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junghelioseok · 3 years

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heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

#hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kpop scenarios #hoseok x you #strangers to lovers!au #strangers to lovers #lia writes #gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL #my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening

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halfabreath · 3 years

Text

Holster goes on Survivor after graduating, part 2

here! we! go! part one here, tag here

so Holster's got a strategy to update and an ex lover to deal with and like. He and Esther didn't end great.

I feel like we don’t talk enough about why Holster’s chirped so much for hooking up with Esther in canon? Like there’s mention of a rash and a saga that requires an email but we don’t really know?

but essentially Holster likes Esther and is made fun of for it and I can’t imagine that feels good for her? And they probably didn’t do it in front of her but surely that’s not great for anyone’s mindset

Holster and Esther start dating after Winter Screw and she’s so enamored with this sweet dork who sings to himself while he brushes his teeth but the second he’s around his friends she feels like he doesn’t change per se but he showcases such different parts of himself and she likes what he doesn’t show! She’s into that! But that’s Holster like a large percentage of the time and Esther’s got a life of her own so they’re on again off again, Esther doesn’t come to kegsters or games and things fizzle and reignite a couple of times until Holster becomes a captain

Esther knows in her bones Holster will never ever ever ever ever ever choose her over his team (especially Ransom, like what’s the deal there?) and honestly Esther Does Not Enjoy having intimate conversations about how things make her feel and she’s really good at talking her way around her problems so when They break up Esther’s trying to articulate how she feels around SMH she says “I hate who you are when your uniform is on” and for Holster, who’s entire identity rests on being on A Team (literally his position on the team is being part of a tiny two person team within the larger team) this is his life this is what makes him happiest this is how he feels most himself so Holster hears “I hate the thing that makes you you”

So yeah! They broke up and then avoided each other and didn’t really get closure but also neither of them are bitter, it just felt kind of like “man I miss hanging out with them but yikes who was I at that point??”

of COURSE the first challenge involves the exes having to work together in pairs for their tribe and it’s a clusterfuck and Esther is downright cold to him. She’s sending him all the bad vibes in the world and Holster’s now legitimately worried he destroyed her life with their breakup because there’s some tangible animosity there and then they lose the first challenge and Holster’s wondering why he even got out of bed this morning when Esther pops up behind him and says “come with me, I need your long ass arms for coconuts”

The SECOND they’re out of earshot from the camp Esther‘s like “I’m really sorry I was so mean but I think it’s a huge advantage for the rest of the exes to think we hate each other so they don’t suspect an alliance”

Holster: So you don’t hate me? We’re good?

Esther: Good isn’t the word I’d use, Adam

Holster: That’s fair, I wasn’t a very good boyfriend. But I’ve got your back and we’re going to the top three, you good with that? Here, have a coconut wait let me open it for you

Bada bing bada boom, alliance

Don't get me wrong, it's awkward. Like, really awkward. The vibe of this island is uncomfortable and the near-constant rain for the first five days certainly doesn’t help and their tribe loses three immunity challenges in a row so this alliance is TESTED but Esther and Holster always surreptitiously check in by having lightning fast strategy sessions by the well or when everyone has left camp and they’re SO careful to maintain the illusion that they hate each other when they’re actually earning back trust day by day

Holster’s SUPER helpful around camp. He always offers to carry heavy things and makes people laugh and always knows exactly where the machete is and delivers coconuts to people when they’re resting but it’s miserable

There’s this SWEET moment where, after watching Esther shiver for three days straight Holster takes the machete to the woods and cuts off the bottom half of his sweatshirt to make a scarf/towel/wrap for Esther and they pretend like she did it out of spite and honestly? It’s a power move that helps Holster gain access to this smaller faction of people so they have more intel because the other contestants are like this helpful strong idiot need someone to look out for him

It also means Holster’s running around this island in a cropped sweatshirt and compression shorts

The Himbofication of Adam Birkholtz is complete

And even though Holster’s constantly surrounded by people, hungry, wet, participating in incredibly strenuous physical challenges, and at Tribal Council every night it’s still better than having to hear Ransom say they’ll never be together

Esther can fully tell Something Is Up. At first she just thought it was the stress of the game and the circumstances but then during a challenge she and Holster are on a platform way out in the water waiting for their turns on a relay race and they’re actually completely alone for the first time in days and she absolutely uses that time to interrogate Holster because she’s efficient, damn it

And Holster’s annoyed she’s taking his head out of the game and he’s exhausted and hungry and he’s the last leg of their team which means if he loses they all go to Tribal AGAIN and he can’t let his team down, he really can’t so the whole thing bursts out because he just wants her to stop and it goes like:

Esther: Look, I know you’re annoyed but you’re not telling me something and I think you can see why that would be concerning to me given the fucking context

Holster: It doesn’t have anything to do with the game, you know I’d never jeopardize this for us

Esther: No, that’s not what I think it’s just -

Holster: Holy hell, all I did was tell Ransom that I’m in love with him, are you happy?? NOW SWIM, SHAPIRO

Esther, while diving: I FUCKING KNEW IT

Holster, under his breath: that makes one of us, you could have told me. saved me a lot of time. Rude.

So now Holster’s just admitted this before his ex and 7 million viewers and oh yeah he’s gotta swim through an obstacle course so he and his team can eat today

And finally, FINALLY, their tribe wins. Holster gives it everything he’s got to gain ground (water?) and win it for the team and he’s just laying in the sand, trying desperately to catch his breath, Jeff Probst screaming in the background, while his whole tribe swarms him and if he closes his eyes he swears he can feel the ice under his feet and hear the clack of the sticks and pucks and it’s the first celly he’s earned in years and it feels incredible but it makes him ache for Samwell

Jeff notices that he’s tearing up and of COURSE asks what it’s all about and Holster’s swallowing back tears when he says “I’ve spent my whole life playing on one team or another and after graduating from college I suddenly wasn’t? And I didn’t know how much I missed it until I was on a team again and I even though I love my friends I think this is the first time I’ve let myself admit that things aren’t like they used to be and that I’m not, either”

So Ether’s watching her ex cry on national television and for the first time she understands exactly how deeply he loves his team? And how hard he tries to make them proud of him? And suddenly a lot of their relationship makes a hell of a lot more sense

After the challenge Holster’s laying in a hammock and Esther rolls into it with him and just says “We’re good. Top three?”

Holster, beaming: Bro! Top three!

Esther: What did I tell you about calling me bro when we’re cuddling

Holster: I thought that only applied to post-coital romantic cuddling? Unless of course you’re trying to tell me that you’re ARDENTLY in love with me

Esther: shut up

Holster: a heart full of LOVE a heart full of SONG NO FEAR NO REGRET A NIGHT AS BRIGHT AS DAY -

Ether: Hi, guys?? can someone vote me off this island please?

Part 3 coming soon!! This is so much!! But I fuckin love it!!

#survivor!holster #adam birkholtz #Adam holster Birkholtz #holster #holster af #omgcp au #Esther Shapiro #holsom au #HOLSOM

199 notes · View notes

screamingatanemptyroom · 3 years

Text

Please Fix the Story pt 23 - Sci Fi

Here is the next part! There is at least one more part in this world. Getting really close to the end!

Masterpost Linked Here

Enjoy!

_______________________

Life moved on, and despite the growing anxiety I had after my encounter with Chris, things moved smoothly. Chris had disappeared after that night, leaving his resignation from the academy laying on his desk. Liam was busy with wedding plans, occasionally checking in to make sure I was happy with his choices.

He was honestly much more thoughtful about it than I would have been, and I was happy to have his help. My father arranged his leave and was on his way. We also heard from Liam’s parents that they were going to arrive soon as well.

When Liam received the news, he became perfectly still for a few moments. I watched him, concerned at the obvious change.

“Liam, are you okay?”

“I – I don’t know.” His eyes were unfocused, as if staring off into space. “Why… are they coming?”

“Because they’re your parents? I doubt they would miss the wedding of a royal family member, no matter how bad your relationship is.”

“Parents… it’s… all wrong.” Liam seemed to be struggling against some invisible bind. His dark blue eyes flickered, and seemed to almost glow in the shadow of the resting area we sat it.

WARNING. World destabilization detected. Attempting forced conformity… Failure… host and partner soul strength too high.

Unable to see the bright blue words hanging in the air, Liam continued speaking.

“This… isn’t right. I don’t have family." His face was becoming more certain. “It’s not my fate. All I have is…” He glanced at me, his eyes filled with pain. “Bel..?”

WARNING! Stabilize world story immediately or face destruction and mission failure.

I reached out quickly, holding Liam’s hands in my own. “Liam, take a deep breath. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation.

“I know it seems wrong, but for now I need you to go with the idea of having parents and family.”

“But…?”

“Trust me. “

“Okay.” He leaned back, sighing. The glowing dark blue of his eyes faded, and he closed them for a brief moment, before seemingly returning back to normal. “I trust you.”

We don’t belong here.

The uncertainty in this world grew each day. Liam, whoever Chris had become… me… we weren’t from this world. But if we deviated to much, the world could destabilize, and I could fail the mission.

I just needed to keep my head down, blend in and complete the mission.

Try not to rebel too much against the role I’d been given in this world, except the ending.

Simple, right?

_______________________

…

“We’ve talked the last few hours about our lists, now it’s your turn! What do you miss most about Chris, Alaira?”

Maybe world destabilization, mission failure and soul destruction aren’t that bad after all.

I stared at the group of young women in front me, wondering for the hundredth time in the past hour how I had been roped into this... harem support group?

Allie, Ilene and Wen stared back at me, waiting for me to answer.

“I… miss kicking his butt in mock Mech battles?” I winced as I spoke, realizing they would probably take offense at that, but to my surprise they all smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, you were a very important rival to Chris.” Ilene patted me on the back.

Allie spoke up, “He was always talking about how he wanted to beat you and have you accept him as a fellow Guardian. “

“Yeah… he… I…” Wen started to chime in, but then her face crumpled as she sobbed into her hands. “What are we supposed to do now that he’s gone?! What am I supposed to do without him?! What if he never comes back?!”

“I miss him!”

“Me too!”

Soon all three girls were crying, leaving me in uncomfortable silence in the corner.

Blend in, don’t make waves, don’t try to change things….

“I can’t live without him!” Ilene’s dramatic cry broke something within me.

SCREW THIS!

“OKAY GUYS, SHUT UP!” I stood up, placing my hands on my hips as I stared at them. “You are a group of highly intelligent, talented women in the most competitive military academy in the known universe! And you’re nothing without some guy?”

“He’s not just some….” Wen started to interrupt, but was shushed by me.

“No. No matter how much you care for him. He is a guy, and you are all your own person. You have talents, dreams and stories beyond his existence.” I turned to petite girl beside me first. “You! Wen, you’re one of the top engineering students in the program! With your skills, it would be a cinch to improve upon the current Mech design!” After all, she had ramped up Chris’s Mech in the story, surely she could do the same without him!

“And you!” I pointed at Allie. “You’re a Guardian! You're a level B one at that! That's an even higher level than Chris!”

“But I don’t have his drive…”

“You can have his drive! You can have more than his drive! He spent half his time complaining about how people didn’t take him seriously or how people were trying to force him to be a Connector. You can be TEN TIMES the Guardian Chris was!”

I ignored her startled sputterings and turned towards the dark haired girl on the other side. “And you… Ilene.”

She stared at me warily. “What about me?”

“You’re a freaking Princess! And a super talented Connector! How can that become nothing if Chris isn’t around?”

“…I thought you didn’t like me?”

“I don’t.” I answered bluntly. “You treat your brother like trash, and that’s enough for me to want to kick your teeth in.” I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “That being said, just because I hate you doesn’t mean I don’t respect you as a talented Connector. You just have a crappy personality.”

“Um… Thanks?”

“Don’t mention it.” I opened my arms. “You three have top-notch talent all gathered here in one room. What do you need Chris for?! You could be a force to be reckoned with!”

Wen jumped to her feet. “You’re right! I should design a Mech, one stronger than anyone’s ever seen.!”

“Yes!” I pumped a hand in the air.

“And I’ll fly it! I’ll terrorize the Hive until they go running back to their home planet!” Allie stood up as well.

“You’ve got it!”

Ilene joined in. “If I remember, Allie, you and I have a decent resonance match. How about we partner up?”

“Let’s do it!”

The girls high-fived each other while I watched approvingly.

“Let’s destroy the hIve!

“We’ll save humanity!”

‘...And then we’ll find Chris!”

I groaned.

They were so close… but I guess this is better than nothing.

The girls plotted the formation of a new team, surprisingly accepting the team name “Harem” (my suggestion). As they filed out, chattering excitedly, I prepared to escape this mentally exhausting group.

“Alaira, wait.” Princess Ilene stopped me before I could walk out the door.

“What is it?” I kept a neutral expression. I hadn’t been joking when I said I didn’t like her.

She hesitated. “Are you really marrying my brother?”

“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”

“…No… it’s just…” She rubbed her face. “He’s… different. And I feel like you should know. “

Sitting back down, I crossed my legs and prepared to listen.

“Since he met you… William is a different person. He’s kinder… gentler… even goes by a different name. He’s never gone by Liam.”

That caught my attention “What was he like before?”

“Angry. Vicious. Hurt people just to watch them suffer.” Her face was blank, as if remembering things she didn’t want to. “He was so mad at the world for not allowing him to match, he spent all his time plotting to take down talented people who could.”

A villain. Was that who he was before Liam stepped in? Like how Alaira was before I took over? Or Chris before… whoever it was… took his body?

“I’m not pretending that I’m perfect, either. You’re right, I treated my brother like garbage, instead of trying to help him. I thought he was a monster. Honestly, I thought his hanging around you was some new scheme…. I was kind of hoping he would take you out so your couldn’t bother Chris…”

“So nice of you.” My tone was sarcastic

“At least I’m honest. Anyways, this doesn’t appear to be some trick… I think he’s changed… he actually seems to care about you. But I thought you should know who he was before he met you.”

“Thanks.” My tone was slightly better than before. “Don’t worry, I know exactly who I’m marrying.”

Liam. Not your villain brother.

“Good Luck.” Ilene seemed relieved, as if a burden was off of her shoulders with the confession, and hurried out.

I stood in the room alone silently for a few moments, processing.

There’s too many questions, and no answers in sight.

I left to find Liam. I missed him.

_______________________

I arrived just in time to see Liam and Alaira’s father facing off.

“She is my precious daughter.” The tall middle aged man with close cropped hair and a scowl made scarier by the scar running from his left eye to the corner of his mouth, towered over Liam. His disapproving air was evident.

“Yes.” Liam smiled and nodded, seemingly fearless.

“No man deserves to marry her.”

“Agreed.”

“So who do you think you are?” General Gladus poked Liam’s chest with a finger.

“The luckiest man alive to be able to stand in the same room as Alaira, much less stay by her side all my life.” He held out a plate in front of the angry man. “Cookies?”

“Well, you should know I don’t approve of this fast courtship…” He picked up one of the cookies and bit into it angrily. “You both are so young…” He took another bite. “And I don’t want you to hold her back…”

“I completely agree. I will do my best to support all her goals in life.” Liam handed the general another cookie as he finished the first.

“Good…” He chewed slower. “Is this chocolate? How did you get it so soft but chewy at the same time?”

“I developed the recipe. Would you like more?”

He picked up another one. “Just know this doesn’t mean I fully approve of you.”

“Of course not… Would you like some cake…”

“….”

“I also have homemade hot chocolate.”

“… As long as she likes you, I guess.” He finally muttered, his hands full of baked treats and dessert drinks.

Liam overwhelmed him with support spouse abilities. I laughed in the doorway, attracting the attention of both men.

“Anything for me?”

Liam nodded with a bright smile. “I saved you a plate.”

General Gladus cleared his throat as he saw the large platter filled with cookies.

“Don’t worry, Sir, I saved an extra plate for you.”

“… Don’t think you can bribe me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So I can have your plate, then?”

“The hardened general clutched the plate of cookies to his chest. “Don’t you dare! The boy made them for me out of respect for his future father-in-law!”

“…” Liam and I smiled at each other.

“How is the front line… Dad?” The title felt a little rough as I spoke it. I was still acutely aware that he was Alaira’s father, not mine.

“Stable, for now.” He frowned. “Fortunately we have an elaborate defense system, to give plenty of warning. But they’ve been retreating more and more lately. The higher ups seem to think that they might be admitting defeat, but I just don’t think so. I think they’re preparing for something… big.”

He’s right.

I knew the ending of the original story. Around the time Alaira was supposed to graduate, they had attacked in the largest numbers ever seen, necessitating all senior students being recruited to help fight. Even Alaira, who was without a Connector and would have normally been left behind was brought in. They couldn’t afford to leave any powerful guardian out.

I still have a little more time, though. I can train with Liam, maybe get Wen to help upgrade our Mechs, train up some of the students… We can have a chance to really face off against the attack.

There’s still time…

“Don’t let down your guard. You’re the best general we’ve got.” I patted Alaira’s father on the shoulder.

He crushed me in a big hug. “Don’t worry, your dad will protect the galaxy! You just get married in peace.” He leaned in and whispered. “See if he can make a few more of those chocolate cookies, okay?”

“I will, Dad.” It came much more naturally this time.

I’ll protect you too. I added silently.

_______________________

As the wedding drew closer, we were notified that the king and queen were on their way. Liam ignored the news, continuing to work on seating charts and music for the ceremony.

“We have to welcome them when they arrive. They are due any minute.” I finally spoke up, slightly exasperated with his head-in-the-sand act.

“…If we have to.” His voice was cold, his dark blue eyes flickering between fear and annoyance.

I held his hand. “Don’t worry. No matter who they think you are, or what they say about you, just know that you’re my future husband. Don’t worry about anything else.”

He reached out, pulling me tightly against him. “ Thank you.”

“Just play along with them. I held his face between my hands. “You’re Liam. Not Prince William. Not their son. Not Ilene’s brother. Liam.”

WARNING. DIRECTLY CONTRADICTING STORYLINES IS FORBIDDEN.

Liam tilted his head and studied me with a worried expression. “… Are you okay?”

“Just follow my lead. Please.” I looked away from the bright blue words in annoyance and moved.

We went to meet the Royal Family, each of us nervous for different reasons.

The King and Queen looked slightly like Liam and Ilene. The king had curly dark hair, severe features, made worse by the frown as he studied Liam. The Queen had the dark blue eyes that both siblings had, and a beautiful, delicate face… but the overall sense was ruined by the terrified light in her eyes as she almost hid behind her husband.

“So this is the girl you tricked into marrying you?” The king looked at me with morbid curiosity.

Liam took a deep breath. “This is Alaira, Grade S Guardian, my resonance partner and my future wife…”

“What game are you playing, William?” His father snapped, interrupting him. “If this is some ploy to ruin General Gladus, you should stop now.”

“This isn’t…”

“You should stop this now.” The Queen squeaked out nervously at me from behind the King. “He might be my son, but you can’t trust him…”

“…”

“This wedding is a farce.” The king snapped finally. “He’s a monster.”

_______________________

“Why did you follow me?” the mournful voice called out as I entered the dark room.

“Do you want me to leave?” I looked up at the large dark blue eyes curiously, barely able to make out the large form in the darkness.

“I didn’t want you to see… didn’t want you to know…”

“Know what?”

“That I’m a monster.” The whisper was filled with so much pain it made me cry.

_______________________

BAM!

Before I fully came out of the memory, I had punched the King.

“…”

There was a moment of stunned silence from everyone present.

“You dare…!” The King finally spoke up, rubbing his red cheek with a furious expression. “I can have you executed!”

“Just try, Barry.” General Gladus walked in, his hand holding a drawn weapon. “I’ll shoot you in your precious Royal Ass, and then what are you going to lounge on while I fight your wars for you?”

"..."

The room processed his words in silence for a moment, before the king burst out angrily.

“Gladus, are you threatening me?!!”

“Oh shut up Barry. " He waved dismissively with his gun. "It wouldn’t even be the first time I’ve shot you. Probably won't be the last." You won’t arrest me, you need me to protect your country.”

“You are willing to let your precious daughter marry this… this… “ The king trailed off, glaring at Liam, who stared calmly back.

“Yes.” General Gladus shrugged “I heard the rumors. Even with the 100% match I wasn’t about to let him hurt my daughter.”

“Then why…?”

“I’ve sat down with your son, Barry. I shook his hand, looked him in the eye. I asked him the hard questions. I’ve observed him around Alaira.” The General stepped forward, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I know a good man when I see one. And I see one. One who loves my daughter. Maybe you should try looking closer.”

“But he…”

“Plus he makes delicious cookies.” He muttered.

“…He what?”

I stepped forward, blocking Liam behind me. “He’s not a monster. He’s my future husband. I honestly do not care about your opinion. But if you want to try to hurt him, just know… you won’t have to wait for my father to shoot you. I’ll do it first.”

“… Control your child, Gladus.”

“She even threatens you just like me!” He reached out and placed an arm around my shoulders. “So proud.”

“…Fine. “ The King frowned “I won’t try to save you from yourself. Marry him, if you want.”

“I plan to.”

“Whatever you’re plotting, William, you better stop now.” He glared. “You might have fooled them, but you won’t fool me.”

“I don’t have to fool you.” Liam’s eyes were dark. “You mean nothing to me.”

“I’m your father.”

“I have no family. I… I can never have family.” Liam turned away.

“William…” The Queen called out softly.

“I AM NOT William.”

WARNING. World Destabilization detected!

“Come on, Liam. Let’s go.” I grabbed his hand and walked away, calling over my shoulder as we left. “You’re free to attend the wedding, but stay away from us otherwise.”

“You’ll regret this!”

I laughed at his bitter words. “Enjoy the disappointment.”

Liam and I left.

_______________________

We sat in my room, and as soon as my hand left his, he curled up, holding his arms over his head.

“I don’t feel right.”

“Liam.” I reached out and touched his back, feeling him trembling beneath me.

“Who am I? I don’t think I’m William. The things they said… the things William has done… He’s not me.”

Warning!

"He's not me... he can't be... He's not..."

WARNING! World destabilization... Bright blue words and a mechanical voice appeared again.

“SHUT UP!” I yelled, drowning out the voice. I pulled his arms down, looking straight into his dark blue eyes. “You are Liam. And you’re my partner. And tomorrow you’ll be my husband. Nothing else matters..”

“But…”

“I can’t explain things right now. I don’t even know everything right now. But I know there’s a reason we’re here together. I’ve found you, and I won’t leave you.”

He held me close, both of us kneeling on the floor. He was clutching me as if I was the only thing anchoring him. I felt lost myself. I was frustrated at my lack of answers, angry at the pain Liam was experiencing, afraid for the future ahead of us.

“Alaira… no… Bel?” He whispered. “... I love you.”

I smiled at the unfamiliar but familiar name, pressing my face against his shoulder. “I love you too, Liam.”

“Marry me tomorrow.”

“Definitely.”

“Don’t leave me behind… please.”

“I won't... No matter what.”

A long silence fell between us. Finally Liam sat back, his face slightly red. “I wish we were getting married tonight. I can’t help but feel something terrible is going to happen to prevent our wedding.”

Foreshadowing.

Ignoring the ominous word that appeared in my subconscious, I smiled reassuringly. “Nothing is going to happen…”

“ALERT! CODE LEVEL RED. PLEASE REPORT TO EMERGENCY STATIONS. ALERT!”

I sighed. “I take that back.”

We headed to the Command Level in the main Academy.

_______________________

“Dad, what’s going on?” I called out as we passed the main doors.

“Alaira…” General Gladus’ face was uncharacteristically serious. “It’s not good.”

I stood beside him, looking up at the large holographic display at the center of the command room, feeling the blood drain from my face. “The Hive.”

“They’re past our defense systems.” He slammed his fist against the table. “This doesn’t make any sense! How did an army this huge get past us without starting any alarms!”

I stared at the countless red dots on the screen, feeling lost.

This isn’t right. In the story I should have had YEARS before the Hive attacked in such large numbers. Even then they were caught immediately in the defense systems and gave the military time to prepare. How could they get past us… unless…

“Chris.”

He said he was going to end everything. Is this what he meant?

Alaira’s father was confused. “That male student who disappeared? How would he have access to defense system information?”

Chris wouldn’t… but whoever was controlling Chris might have more information.

I let it go for now. “What do we do?”

“There’s too many… and they’re headed for a defenseless planet in this system.” He hung his head. “I don’t have the manpower to defend it.”

I stepped forward, giving him a grim smile. “You’re not alone, Dad. I’ll help.”

“We! We’ll help.” Liam stood beside me. “We’re a powerful combo. You can’t afford to turn us down.”

General Gladus sighed. “Even if I recruit top senior students from the academy… the numbers we have… it’s a suicide mission.”

Warning! Mission Failure Imminent!

Your mission: Prevent destruction of the human race by the alien monster race known as The Hive.

The Hive are now attacking in large numbers. Your estimated chance of success against them in battle is 0%.

“If you’re not gonna say anything helpful, then shut up.” I growled quietly.

Liam turned towards me. “Are you okay?”

If you fail your mission, you will face soul destruction.

“It’s not like I’m swimming in options.”

You have one option.

“Who are you talking to?”

“What is it?” I whispered, holding Liam’s hand and squeezing it. I have to save him.

...

ACCEPT YOUR FATE.

...

I stared at the blue words silently for a few minutes. “Liam, what if I said we have an 100% chance of dying if we went on this mission…”

“You don’t know that…”

“...and I had a fool proof way to protect you… But we would be separated forever?”

I didn’t know what my fate was. But I did know in the deepest part of my soul one thing:

Liam was not my fate.

“I don’t plan to survive this, Liam… but if I could save you…”

“I would rather die by your side.” He didn’t hesitate.

“But…”

He grabbed my other hand, holding them both tightly. “We’ll face this together.”

_______________________

“It’s hopeless.” I whispered, holding him tightly. “What if fate is stronger than us?”

“I don’t need hope, Bel.” He leaned closer, his breath warm against my neck. “If fate is going to separate us, then we’ll destroy it.”

“Together.”

“Always.”

_______________________

I looked at the hologram, at the countless numbers of enemies that awaited us, and leaned against him with a sigh.

“Together.”

He smiled in return.

“Always.”

#writing #please fix the story #fantasy #world hopping #amnesia #the world is breaking #Getting close to the end.

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scxrlettwxtches · 3 years

Text

love me, love me not | bang chan

genre: angst, humor, fluff, college!au, female!reader

warnings: slight swearing, not edited ahhh

prompt: argument leading kissing

description: when chan rejected you, you never expected that it would become the catalyst for your love story, rather than the end of it. but, life and a few welcome matchmakers have a way of playing with fate.

word count: ~6.5k+

a/n: hi, anon! im so so sorry for the wait. i totally had a writer’s block while writing this, and im super sorry if this isn’t exactly what you wanted...i tweaked the prompt ever so slightly, but i hope you still like it! >.< it’s also wayyy longer than i’d predicted haha oops. as always, my ask box is open if anyone wants to be friends! love you all! <3

It took a total of three days and five hours for Chan to realize he might've fucked up.

When the thought first appeared in his head, he dismissed it out of indignation. How could it have been his fault?! He didn't know you were going to confess. He didn't know he was hurting you by jumping around from girl to girl.

"You... you're what?" Chan stuttered, his pace faltering to a stop as he tried to process your words.

"I'm in love with you," you repeated, stopping in your tracks as you turned to face him, your hands gripping the straps of your backpack tightly.

"I have been for years," you said plainly, looking into his eyes with a simple gaze.

Chan stammered, and for the first time, his mouth worked before his brain and he blurted out the stupidest response he could've conjured up, "I already have a date tonight."

You flinched as if he’d slapped you hard across the face, showing visible hurt at his careless words. You were always the collected one, always the person that could flash a smile even in the most uncomfortable circumstances. It felt weird, uncomfortable even to see you waver.

When you replied to him, you had already recovered, your face passive and your voice steady, "I know. I helped you set it up, dipshit," you said with a dry smile.

"Then, why would you say this now?" Chan felt churlishly ungrateful. How dare you tell him now? Right when he finally scored that girl he'd been secretly pining after for days. It had taken so much effort, and you'd know because it was only through your shared internship with her that this date even became possible.

Oh, he was being so callous, so insensitive. And yet, you showed nothing more than a flash of hurt in your eyes, a sign he had clearly missed while he was too busy worrying about himself.

“Because you asked me if I liked anyone, and I didn’t have any reason to lie to you,” you shrugged indifferently before checking your watch, “Oh, you’re going to be late. I’ll walk the rest of the way by myself.”

And without waiting for another response from him, you turned on your heels and walked down your street without the one companion you’ve had all your life. It was lonelier than you thought it would be.

Ever since that day, Chan’s relationship with you had irrevocably changed. He still saw you every day, still walked you to your classes and spent his lunch period with you at the nearby cafe, but a large chasm had opened in your relationship, a divide of unspeakable topics after you’d so bluntly confessed to him and unknowingly sent him into an existential crisis.

“How was the date?”

Speaking of the devil, Chan choked on his chocolate milkshake as you interrupted his thoughts, "I'm sorry, what did you say?" he wheezed, hitting his chest to catch his breath.

You gave him a strange look, clearly sensing his discomfort, but making no moves to resolve the situation as you looked back down at your notes.

“I asked how the date was,” you repeated, scribbling as you jotted down some of the main points from your textbook, “Didn’t you have one? Two days ago?”

“O-oh, right,” Chan nodded, clearing his throat deliberately, “Yeah, it was good, I guess.”

Truthfully, Chan did not remember the date very well. What was her name? Miyeon? Mina? Fuck, was he suffering from early memory loss already? She was quite pretty; he remembered how she looked very vaguely, dressed in a prim and proper manner and carrying herself with grace.

And yet, the one thing that Chan clearly did remember was that he felt nothing.

There was no spark. No instant realization that the girl before him was the one. No dramatic eye contact or k-drama OST to make up for awkward silences.

All in all, it seemed like it was another fail.

You sensed his dejected mood as always, and nudged his still hand on the table, “Hey, it’s alright. Not all dates are supposed to go well. You’re bound to have a few misses.”

“That’s the thing! It hasn’t been just a few misses! It’s been all misses!” Chan bemoaned as he let his head slump onto the table, and he couldn’t ignore the wry smile that crossed your face.

“You just haven’t found the right person yet, and that’s okay,” you chuckled, petting his soft hair. Chan let out an appreciative hum, his eyes automatically closing at the soothing sensation. Your hands felt nice, your pets were always comforting. It would be even better if you’d run your hands through his hair while he--

Wait, what?

Chan shook his head quickly, messing up his soft hair and causing you to pull away, much to his disappointment. What was that? His brain was traveling a mile a minute and the image that flashed in his head--his head on your lap, peaceful and domestic as you pressed kisses to his face while you carded your fingers through his hair--

“Oh, by the way. I’m going on a date tomorrow.”

It was like his dream shattered before his very eyes as you glanced at your nails, the scratching off another fleck of your black nail polish. Chan was genuinely caught off guard by the weird, sickly emotion in his gut as the words you uttered finally processed through his thick brain.

“W-what?” Chan failed to hide the surprise, but he somehow managed to hide the faint sense of disappointment. He shouldn't feel that, right? Friends should always support one another! Friends should always want them to be happy and find someone, right?

He didn't exactly feel those two things at the moment, and the guilt only added to the sickly feeling.

"Who?" Chan asked, trying not to sound bitter.

If you heard the unusual emotion in his voice--which you probably did--you didn't comment on it, "It's the school dance captain, Minho? He asked me out yesterday."

An image of the unfairly handsome, sharp-eyed, dashing dance captain, Lee Minho, appeared in Chan's head. He was the perfect man, of course. Literally Adonis of the modern age. Chan didn’t even know that you and him were friends, much less close enough to schedule dates.

“How do you know him? You’re not exactly the cream of the crop when it comes to dance, or anything physical for that matter--ow!”

You rolled your eyes as you pulled your hand back, watching as he rubbed his forehead dramatically, “We have computer science together, asshole. And he’s a good friend of Jisung.”

“Everyone’s a good friend of Jisung’s,” Chan muttered under his breath, still reeling from your harsh attack, “Why does it have to be Minho?”

He hadn’t planned on you catching his latter question, but seeing the raise of your eyebrow and the immediate change in expression to something slightly more guarded, you asked, “Oh? And what’s wrong with Minho?”

Chan stiffened at the defensive question, feeling his blood grow hot. Of course there wasn’t anything wrong with Minho. He was surprisingly warm-hearted, smart, funny, and a phenomenal dancer. There was nothing wrong with him, and yet, Chan felt a red hot jealousy and anger bubble out of his lips as he blurted out:

“I just don’t want you going with him.”

Oh, that came out wrong. That came out so very wrong.

“And who are you to tell me what to do, Christopher Bang?” your voice was cold and closed off, using his full name as you only did when you were furious.

Chan flinched at your tone, feeling more hurt than he thought he would. But, at the same time, he bristled in frustration. You didn’t understand what he was feeling. (He didn’t understand it either.)

“He’s not good for you, Y/N,” he lied, avoiding your piercing gaze as you scoffed.

“Oh?” you sounded rightfully furious, absolutely fed up with the constant back and forth and utter indecisiveness that was Bang Christopher Chan, “And who exactly do you think is good for me? You?”

It was scathing, meant to hurt, and hurt it did. Chan recoiled at your burning words, “That’s not what I meant!” He snapped defensively, his temper rising unusually as your argument began to draw the attention of other customers in the cafe.

Your hands shook as you clenched them into little fists, “Then what did you mean, huh?” You asked softly, eyes lowered to the table.

Chan opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out as he struggled to dictate exactly what he was feeling. What even was this? This burning pain in his heart at the thought of you with another, this fear in his mind that he will no longer be your first priority?

You took his silence as acceptance, and you scoffed, trying to ignore the prickly feeling behind your eyes, “I see,” you spoke with an air of finality, and before Chan could speak, you pushed out of your seat, beginning to walk away.

“W-wait!” Chan’s motion was frantic and unthought of as he grabbed the edge of your soft cardigan.

“Channie, it’s fine,” you said simply as you refused to face him, and he was unable to see your expression. Your voice gave nothing away, perfectly neutral and closed off.

“This isn’t goodbye or anything, dipshit,” you continued, standing still as you spoke, “I just have something I have to do. Text me when you need me.”

With that, you yanked your arm away, and the fabric of your sweater slipped through his fingers. Chan was frozen in his position, half ready to stand up and half still sitting. It wasn’t a goodbye, he told himself. You said it yourself. It wasn’t a goodbye.

But why did it feel so much like one?

“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

Chan looked away from the window, his eyes wide and startled as the woman in front of him gave him a merciful smile as she rested her head on her hand, watching him inquisitively.

“So you are,” she confirmed, absently twirling the pasta around her fork as she continued to study him.

Chan felt his face flush with shame and guilt. It had been almost a whole day since your fight with him, and--unable to study because of it--he decided to drown his sorrow the only way he knew how: by setting up another date. He called the girl he went out with two days ago, Mina, and to his utmost surprise, she agreed to a second date.

But now, Chan was sure that the chance of a third was completely out the window, especially since he was spending much of this date daydreaming.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he stuttered out an apology, and truthfully, he was ashamed that his mind wouldn’t stay in one place no matter how much he willed it to, “I’ve just been really busy with work, a-and it’s been weighing down on me.”

Mina smiled at that, a gentle, knowing smile that send to pierce through all of Chan’s clumsy excuses, “I see. So it wasn’t about anyone in particular?”

Chan felt his heart jump in panic. This was probably one of the most mortifying moments in his life, “I don’t believe so?” He said in a questioning tone as he stabbed at his ravioli, playing with it more than he was actually eating.

Even as he lied, his thoughts travelled to another date that was supposed to be happening right as this time. He’d heard through the grapevines that you were going to a cute dinner date with Minho on the other side of town. The two of you haven’t spoken at all since the fallout, which was very uncommon. Not a single text, call, or meeting was exchanged.

Chan wanted to tear his hair out from the frustration. How was it? Were you having fun on your date? Was Minho treating you well? Of course, he would; that was a stupid question. Minho was always known to treat his dates well, even if they didn’t turn into anything long term. He was just kind like that, and--at this moment--he was definitely doing a much better job making you happy than Chan was.

“Hm,” the girl mused carefully, twirling her fork a couple more times before asking innocently, “Are you sure you’re not thinking about your friend, Y/N?”

Jackpot. Chan’s eyes grew comically wide as he choked in his fancy ravioli dish, his face turning red as he quickly tried to drown his throat with water so he didn’t die from asphyxiation, “Y/N?” he stammered, and the image of you from the last time you spoke with him--your face of hurt and betrayal as he snapped at you for no reason at all--flashed in his brain, making him feel yet another coil of burning hot guilt.

Mina nodded serenely, eating as she watched you carefully, “So, I was right?” She asked knowingly, and Chan wondered how long it’s been she’d figured it out.

Nevertheless, he winced and dipped his head respectfully, “I am very sorry,” he said solemnly, and he truly was sorry, “I just...we had a falling out yesterday, and I’m just worried that I might’ve accidentally lost a friend.”

“Oh? Was it that bad of a falling out?” Mina asked, and Chan was almost dumbfounded by how casual his date was at the notion of him thinking about another person during their dinner.

But at the same time, he’d been aching for someone to confide in, aching to sort out the jumbled mess inside his heart, “It was bad,” he admitted, “She was trying to tell me that she got a date, and instead of being happy for her, I sort of blew up in her face.”

“Oh. So it’s bad.”

The blatant honesty was enough to make Chan put his head in his hands, “Yeah, it was bad. Looking back, I’m surprised she didn’t get even more angry at me.”

Mina let out a soft chuckle at his self deprecating words, which made Chan felt just slightly better, “Why did you get so angry?”

Chan blinked, looking up at the question, “H-huh?” If anything, he’d expected Mina to get angry, not for her to start questioning him like a lawyer.

“I mean,” Mina continued, shrugging as she sipped at her champagne, “is Minho a bad person?”

“Not at all. He’s a great guy,” Chan said, almost immediately getting defensive. Minho was a great guy, and he deserved someone wonderful by his side. Someone like you.

“Do you think he and Y/N won’t get along?”

“No!” Chan huffed, growing frustrated by the interrogation but also understanding that he was the one at fault here for ruining a perfectly nice date.

“Then why did you get angry?”

Chan opened his mouth to speak, but as obvious as the reason seemed to be just then, he couldn’t actually pinpoint a direct reason. Why was he so angry? Why was he angry at the prospect of you being happy? Was it because he was just a bad person?

Or, was it because you were going to be happy with someone other than him?

Mina smiled slyly as she watched the poor, unknowingly besotted boy come to one of the most important revelations of his college life, “Well?” She asked, tilting her head expectantly.

Chan swallowed, and his palms felt unnaturally sweaty, as if he were about to perform with his friends on stage. The very thought of it scared him a little, not because it was so undesirable of an outcome, but because of the growing guilt that he didn’t realize it before, and the prospect of fulling understanding how much pain his obliviousness might have caused you.

“I was angry because I wanted it to be me,” he whispered, softly enough that he hoped Mina wouldn’t hear it, but from her smile, she definitely did.

“You wanted to be Minho?” she clarified, almost relishing in the way she was forcing Chan to cough up the buried feelings hidden so deep inside his heart that even he himself wasn’t aware of them.

Chan nodded, feeling as if the ground had been pulled out from under him again, but this time, it was a light, airy feeling rather than a terrifying plummet.

There was a moment of silence before Mina suddenly began to giggle, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. Chan looked up, flustered by her actions as he felt his face burn. He was still a little nervous that he’d insulted her by basically confessing to be in love with another person on their date.

“Oh, you’re actually adorable,” Mina smiled, wiping at the corners of her eyes before she took a deep breath, “Do you know, the first time we went on a date, a couple days ago, I actually thought you were cheating on Y/N.”

“W-what?” Chan sputtered, his cheeks growing bright red at the very thought, “Why?”

“Well, I’ve seen the two of you around, and your relationship is almost a known secret around campus,” Mina explained, “Especially once when I saw the two of you at a cafe studying together, and the way you were looking at her...it made even my heart flutter just watching you stare at her. I doubt you were even listening to what she was saying.”

Chan thought back to your study sessions, thought back to every time he’d have you explain a difficult equation or problem. Bizarrely, he didn’t remember a single concept at all, but he did remember everything about you as you were speaking. The way a single strand of hair traced your face and you always had to brush it behind your ear. The way you’d pout if the question stumped you, too. The way you’d sometimes get lost in your own explanation and start talking about a topic so high level that Chan had been lost for minutes already, but he couldn’t bear to stop you because you looked so adorable.

Oh, shit.

“Then,” Chan swallowed nervously, “you agreed to go on that date with me because you thought I was cheating on her?”

“Well, first off, she helped put us together, which diminished the possibility of that being true,” Mina shrugged, continuing to eat, “Also, if it was true, then I’d be able to catch you right in the act and tell her directly.”

Chan felt a little ashamed and unfairly blamed. Of course he wouldn’t cheat on you! He’d never cheat on anyone, much less you of all people. The very notion of hurting you in such a way was practically unbearable.

“But, as we talked that night,” the girl continued nonchalantly, “it became clear to me that the two of you weren’t together, but you also were totally oblivious to how in love with her you are.”

The back of Chan’s throat was completely dry at this point, despite the copious amount of water he’d been chugging throughout this date, “I-I’m not in love with her,” he stammered defensively, “We’ve been best friends for years!”

Mina leveled him an unamused glare, “Oh? You’re not in love with her, but you feel pain at the notion of her being with someone else. You’re not in love with her, but you can only remember every good thing about her. You’re not in love with her, but you look at her as if she’s your whole sun, moon and earth combined.”

Chan felt cornered, his eyes wide at the revelation as he choked out, “B-but if I love her, t-then all this time--haven’t I been hurting her over and over?”

“How so?”

“S-she confessed earlier this week--b-but I didn’t know!” Chan said helplessly, beginning to panic. If this was all true--and slowly, his mind was beginning to process that it very well could be--then he’s caused you unimaginable pain for no good reason. Then he’d rejected you in the most brutal, uncaring way possible.

Mina sighed, rubbing her eyes, “Oh, dear god. You’re actually an idiot. What are you doing here? Go apologize! Don’t turn up empty handed. And don’t expect anything from her. Just ask her sincerely for her forgiveness.”

Chan nodded, already scrambling out of his seat and fumbling as he placed a few big bills on the table, “I’m so so sorry about this,” the apologies spilled out as he bowed respectfully towards Mina, “If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you…”

“Just don’t be an idiot and try to date the entire student population when the one for you is right beside you,” she retorted dryly, smiling at him, “And good luck.”

Chan ran faster than he ever had before. He ran faster than when his high school class had made him the final runner in the school relay. He ran faster than when he was late to his first job offer in his second year of college. None of those things felt nearly as important as this: the notion of losing you for good.

He rushed to the flower shop that you always spared forlorn glances at, but never spent money on. Apologizing profusely for barging in right before closing time, he bought a small bouquet of your favorite flowers, a collection of roses, lilies, and orchids.

Oh gosh, what if you weren’t home? What if you didn’t come home for the night, but rather stayed with Minho? The very thought caused his stomach to turn.

By the time he made it to your house, his lungs were burning and gasping for air as he rushed to your door. His heart plummeted as he glanced through the window and saw that none of the lights were on, but nevertheless, he pressed your doorbell urgently.

Of course, there was the possibility of saying sorry tomorrow, or saying sorry the day after, but for Chan, they didn't seem like options at all. He had to tell you now, beg for your forgiveness now. If not, he had a feeling that everything between the two of you would be unsalvageable.

No, no, no! You weren't home. Chan peeked into the window again, but the inside was pitch black. You should've been done with your date by now. You should be home, but you weren't. Chan’s heart was racing with fear as he fumbled for his phone. What if calling you made it worse? Oh god, what should he even do?

He just couldn't lose you. Not as a friend, not as a soulmate. He didn't care if he lost his chance with you, he needed you by his side. He needed to see you, he had to fix things—

“Channie?”

Whirling around, his heart seemed to falter as he saw you standing on the street, looking at him with a confused expression. With the dim street light behind you, Chan swore at that moment, you looked like an angel. You were so pretty, dressed up for your date with your hair half up. He swallowed his pride, his guilt, his fear, and he walked towards you clutching the bouquet in his hands.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

Your eyes widened a fraction as you glanced to the side, where Minho was currently walking with you around the pier. His jacket was draped over your frame, even though the night was only slightly breezy, and you relished its weight on your shoulders.

Still, your expression dropped at his question, “I don’t want to talk about him today, Minho.”

“Why not?” He asked, looking around at the sun slowly setting behind the vast ocean as the sky was colored with vibrant reds, purples, and blues.

“Because we’re not exactly on good terms right now,” you muttered, looking down, “Also, isn’t this supposed to be our date? How are you so comfortable with the idea that I’m thinking about someone else?”

Minho laughed, turning to gaze at you fondly, “Well, I can’t exactly change the way you think, can I?” he smiled, ruffling your hair and making you complain with a loud whine, “So the best I can do is to help you get through it.”

You fought the smile tugging at the corner of your lips, and you gently squeezed Minho’s hand, feeling touched, “Thanks.”

“Whatever, dork,” Minho rolled his eyes, “So what happened? Did that idiot say something stupid again?”

“Sort of.”

“Y/N, you are being really unhelpful,” he frowned at your vague answers.

“It was just confusing,” you finally confessed. You’d barely gotten a wink of sleep that night, Chan’s words, his outburst of anger, replaying in your head like a broken record. Why was he so angry? Hadn’t he told you flat out that he had absolutely no feelings for you, crushing your dim light of hope so completely that you’d secretly sobbed your eyes out after walking home?

“Well, if it was confusing for you, I’m sure Chan was just as confused with himself,” Minho chuckled dryly, “What did he say?”

“He...was visibly upset. About this,” you gestured to you and Minho in a helpless manner, almost begging for some sort of clarification.

“Ah, this. You mean us two?” Minho asked, stopping at an empty bench along the pier and deciding to sit down. After all, the two of you had been walking for the latter half of the hour, trying to digest the delicious lunch he’d treated you to.

“Yeah, said something about not liking me being with you, or whatever bullshit he was spitting that day,” you muttered, feeling your blood grow hot just thinking about it.

“Wait, he said that? Chan?” Minho fought the urge to laugh as he tried to make sure he was picturing the scenario correctly. His plan was going better than he’d expected, and Chan had fallen into it without even being slightly aware of it.

You nodded, kicking your feet back and forth as you rolled your eyes, “It was ridiculously uncalled for. You didn’t do anything that warranted that sort of reaction.”

“I can be a bit of a sleeze when I try to be,” Minho pointed out, chuckling when you lightly punched his arm, “So, he said I wasn’t good for you. What’s the big deal? He’s probably just being protective, right?”

“He’s always protective, this was different,” you shook your head. Chan was always the self-sacrificing, putting other people before himself type. He was inherently protective of you just by the virtue of being your friend, whether that meant walking you home every night or trying to make sure that you didn’t forget to eat meals. But that, the anger and almost fear that you felt from him, it felt too raw to just be his protective instinct.

“How so?”

You hesitated before elaborating, “Well, it felt almost like...he was jealous, but that’s ridiculous.”

Minho had to contain the almost giddy laughter that threatened to bubble out from his chest. You two were so oblivious, he felt like a conniving witch trying to put the two of you together. And boy, was he enjoying it.

“Why would it be ridiculous?” he asked innocently.

You leveled a glance at him, immediately sensing something strange about his tone, but not quite being able to identify it, “Of course it’s ridiculous. He rejected me earlier this week.”

“Wait. What the fuck?” Minho snapped, sitting upright immediately, almost like a cat that heard something dangerous nearby, “He rejected you? Outright?”

“Is there something called a lowkey rejection?” You laughed bitterly, “Yes, he full on rejected me. I told him I loved him and he just said he had a date that night.”

Suddenly, this game was significantly less fun. Minho wanted to jab his own eyes out in frustration before going to jab Chan’s eyes out for being so fucking stupid. You confessed, you literally told him outright that you loved him, and he was still stupid enough not to realize his own feelings?! What was it going to take? A good ol’ bonk to the head?

“Okay, Y/N. I’m going to drive you home right now,” he said seriously, and you turned to him, almost alarmed by how urgent his tone sounded.

“Um, why? Did something happen?” You asked, glancing at him in concern.

Minho shook his head, “Nothing, it’s just Chan being a fucking idiot and screwing everything up again.”

Your eyes narrowed, “What are you talking about?”

“Chan loves you,” Minho said, plain and simple, sending your head spinning as you tried to process the three simple words.

In the end, all you could do was laugh, a harsh, bitter sound as you rolled your eyes, “Very funny, Minho. Unfortunately, it’s not a very well thought out prank. He already told me otherwise.”

“He doesn’t even know it, goddamnit!” Minho spit out and you jumped at his aggressiveness, “Look, Y/N. I know this sounds crazy, and I know why you’d probably think I’m just being mean. But it’s true. I know it is. Chan loves you.”

Feeling unfairly placed on the spot, you lashed out at him, a sneer across your face as you retorted, “Oh? How are you so sure, huh? If he loves me oh so much, why is he going on a date with another girl for the twentieth time?”

“Because he’s a fucking idiot, okay?!” Minho groaned, running a hand through his hair, “Y/N, he’s probably beside himself with guilt right now, and I bet you he’s finally come to the realization himself.”

You scoffed bitterly, “That’s a bit late, don’t you think?”

“It is,” Minho agreed, wanting nothing more than to smack Chan’s forehead for being such an idiot. He glanced at you, his expression growing softer as he asked, “But you still love him, don’t you?”

“I shouldn’t, right?” Your voice was shaky as you laughed, feeling the green monster of envy and jealousy coil in your gut as you thought about all the times Chan had unknowingly broken your heart, and all you could do was cheer him on.

“It’s stupid, idiotic, unreasonable,” you continued, kicking your heels against the pavement as you glared at the ground so hard that you were probably burning holes into the cement, “and a waste of my fucking time.”

“You can’t force yourself to feel differently,” Minho pointed out, lowering his temper along with you as he spoke softly, “None of us can. If we could, why would unrequited love or affairs happen?”

“When did you get so wise, Aristotle?” You scoffed, fighting a smile as you ruffled his hair.

Minho swatted away your hands, “I’m trying to be serious here. Look, I bet you Chan is at your front door right now with a bouquet of flowers, anxiously wanting to apologize to you. I would bet ten dollars on it.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your smile was almost predatorial, never shying away from a chance to make some fast cash, “Seriously?”

Minho’s smile faltered ever so slightly, and he hoped to whatever god who was listening that Chan was actually getting his fucking act together, “Hell yeah.”

You grinned, shaking his hand as you laughed, “You’re an idiot.”

“Whatever. Now let’s head back to the car so I can collect my ten dollars.”

Your dumb smile faded as you stepped out of the car in front of your driveway, eyes widening as you caught sight of a familiar figure standing on your porch. It couldn’t be. But yet, if your eyes weren’t playing yet another cruel joke on you, it was indeed your best friend, frantically knocking on the door with a bouquet of flowers in the other.

How could this be? How could he have done everything that Minho had predicted? Wasn’t he supposed to be on a date?

All the doubts, the questions, and the fears bubbled over as his name got caught in your throat, “Channie?”

For a moment, Chan genuinely thought that you were merely a figment of his imagination. Why would you be here? Especially with Minho standing beside his car a little ways away and with his jacket draped over your shoulders. Why had you returned?

His eyes widened as you walked closer, and the glow of the lamp light shifted in accordance to your movements. You were real. You were looking at him, albeit with a hint of caution laced with concern, but you were here.

“Channie, what are you doing out here?” You asked, and his heart began to pound with fear and guilt. You were worried about him. Even after everything he put you through, you still cared about his wellbeing.

Your eyebrows furrowed at his lack of response, and you walked cautiously closer, “Chan? Chris? Are you okay--eek!”

Chan’s feet grew a mind of their own, and he rushed towards you in a fit of desperation, crashing into you as he wrapped his arms tightly around your shoulders. It was a bit of an awkward position, since Chan was much bigger than you, but he managed to bury his face in the crook of your neck, hugging you as if it was his last chance.

If you weren’t concerned before, you certainly were now. Chan was never the clingy one. Yes, he liked cuddles and he never shied away from a good hug, but he was never like this, holding onto you for dear life.

“Chan, what’s happened? Gosh, you’re freezing. Why are you out here in the cold--” you froze as your ears perked up to what Chan was mumbling, repeating like a mantra.

He was apologizing.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry--” He whimpered, his fingers tightening around your coat as he hugged you tightly, “Please, forgive me. I was so stupid. I didn’t know.”

You sighed, and you felt the residual bitterness bleed out of your body. Of course you knew Chan wasn’t purposely being malicious, and if it ate him up with guilt so much that he waited by your door to apologize, then that was enough punishment for you to be more than satisfied.

“Channie, I need you to look at me, okay?” You instructed with a hint of sternness, trying to pull away in order to face him. Chan shook his head, but complied all the same, pulling away from the safety of your arms in order to look at you.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Minho rolling his eyes as he got back in his car, mouthing the words “don’t fuck it up again.” Chan grimaced in affirmation. He didn’t plan on it; not in a million years would he ever want to hurt you again.

You gave him a small smile as he finally met your gaze, “Good boy,” you praised, and Chan was unfamiliar with the tremor in his body that your words caused. When was the last time he’d gotten that from anyone? Oh right, it always came from you. Words of affirmation always came from you, and you always knew when he needed it.

The apologies clawed their way up his throat until he could no longer stay silent.

“I’m so sorry--a-about yesterday,” he sniffled, his shoulders trembling as he hiccuped, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to be overbearing. I-I just--I realized how stupidly jealous I was about the whole situation, a-and I didn’t want you to leave me…”

You sighed, reaching up to pet his hair gently, “It's okay, I forgive you,” you said simply, and you did forgive him. There wasn't any point in holding it over his head like you were better than him, “Everyone says stupid things they don't mean, and you had a bad date the night before.”

Chan stared at you, his eyes glossy with unshed tears as he unabashedly admired your beautiful face, your kind eyes, your perfectly kissable lips. He shouldn’t be thinking about this. You were clearly giving him a way out. “Stupid things they don’t mean,” was what you called it.

But he meant them. He was truly jealous. And it wasn’t the right emotion to feel, but they were real. He wanted you. He wanted you beside him.

He shouldn’t be greedy. He shouldn’t bite off more than he deserved to have. It was a miracle in itself that you were willing to forgive him. But at the same time, Chan knew you were as lonely as he was. He wanted to try and fill that hole for you, damned the consequences.

And just like that, Chan made up his mind.

“W-what if I meant it?” He blurted out, studying your face for any micro expression you could give off that indicated you were uncomfortable.

Instead, you looked only puzzled, “Meant what?”

“I was jealous,” he confessed plainly, stepping just a hair closer, and to his astonishment, you didn’t back away. You allowed him into your personal space, slowly and cautiously.

“Why in the world would you be jealous?” You asked softly, ever so perceptive, “It’s not like you love me or anything.”

Chan winced at the reminder of his hurtful words, but he couldn’t avoid them. He could only make up for them by proving that he was an idiot, that he actually loves you so, so much, “I spent all my time trying to find my perfect other half,” he whispered, his words only meant for your ears.

“I was always looking, always feeling incomplete. But, maybe I was looking in the wrong place,” he said, slowly reaching his hand up to cup your cheek. He could practically count your eyelashes he was so close.

“Maybe, the reason I could never find them was because they were beside me the entire time,” he finished cautiously, his thumb brushing against your soft cheek. You let out a soft, shaky breath, and for a moment, Chan feared that he’d ruined everything all over again.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” You said finally, but Chan felt like almost sobbing with relief as you leaned into his touch. Acceptance. Tentative, but true.

Chan smiled, “That’s because you have all the braincells in this relationship, my dear,” he said solemnly, and his heart fluttered as you giggled. Ah fuck, he really was in love with you.

“I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you,” he said again, holding you close as his forehead rested against yours, “I’m not at all experienced with this...dating thing, but I’ll make it up to you. I’ll make everything up to you. I’ll make you happy. I promise.”

You chuckled softly, and let your eyes flutter shut, “We can both learn along the way,” you said before your lips were pressed gently against his, and Chan’s brain quite literally short circuited. the kiss was chaste, innocent, gentle, and it swept him away like the warmest ocean breeze. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you ever closer.

That’s right, both of you had all the time in the world to learn. And everything would be alright, as long as you did it together.

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rhan-hastur · 2 years

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17 and 19 :)

Answers below the cut!

17: What do you love getting compliments about? Listen, if you compliment anything on my art I'll be happy - the only thing you shouldn't do is comparing it to something already existing, no matter how well intentioned you are it's never a good feeling to be told that my character is a copycat of some random blorbo I've never even heard of. Although! Something I found odd but weirdly fascinating is when several people collectively decided, across different platforms, to compliment me on one single bit of detail that I really thought would get lost among the rest. Here you get a full-on body horror artwork with... a lot going on, even in the cropped version. Of all things, people focused on the braids connecting the hair - no idea why, this was merely an afterthought when drawing it but this is what caught their attention (to a point where the obvious grossness I spent hours on was mostly ignored. ;-; ) Unexpected, but thank you?

19: How often do you draw? Honest answer: not nearly enough. Ideally I try to find at the very least 1 hour to draw everyday, though a lot of the time I have no motivation to do so after work, or I am so bad at multitasking that I get too focused on another task and completely forget about everything else planned. Other times I'll get super inspired and do an entire artwork in one sitting, but these are few and far between. I shaded some hair strands and half a jacket today, not very impressive but that's better than nothing I guess - getting there slowly but surely. Embrace the snail pace.

#to all the thirsty monsterfuckers in the tags I salute you #love you all thanks for keeping me entertained #asks

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stormcrawler75 · 4 years

Note

Bad Things Bingo request: Memory Loss with the Sides as a pantheon of gods.

Warnings: Memory Lost, description of scars, Virgil not having a good view of how he looks.

Notes: Dude, guys, I accidentally deleted the last few paragraphs and had to rewrite them. I finished this tonight out of spite.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil fucking hated snow.

There was no good thing about snow. Not one damn thing and Virgil was willing to stake his life on that claim. In fact, every good thing about Virgil’s life slowed to a stop when fall ended and the snow started to fall. Snow was cold, killed all of the crops that Virgil spent all year growing, and made travel into town a damn bitch. And, on top of everything else, it made the scars surrounding Virgil’s eyes and temples ache to no end. The only thing that helped with the aches and pains was the medicine that his friend Elliott sold. And where did Elliott sell the medicine?

All the way in town. So, yeah, Virgil hated snow.

He sighed as he climbed out of his bed, the cold from outside seeping into his bones. Virgil’s home was a small one-bedroom house with a small fireplace, a bed that he had pressed against two walls, small knickknacks and gifts placed on shelves that Virgil had built himself, and a small rug in front of the door to the outside. The fire that he had built the night before had gone out, with only glowing embers left in Virgil’s tiny fireplace now. The bowl with half of Virgil’s leftover dinner was left beside his bed, which Virgil immediately grab to slowly pick at.

Virgil glanced over at a small mirror on the wall that Elliott had given him, gently wiping at his eyes and trying his best to avoid his scars. There were deep and rough scars around Virgil’s eyes - as if someone had tried carving them out with a knife but never truly committed to the idea - and two identical thin, deep scars on each of his temples. Virgil’s nose was crooked like it had been broken many times before and one of his eyes didn’t open all the way. He wasn’t the prettiest man ever but, as Elliott had once said, he was just lucky to still be alive. Not that Virgil cared about the scars or how he looked. He honestly just wished that he remembered how he got the damn scars.

Or any part of his life before waking up in the town’s local Doctor’s office. He had woken up nearly five years ago with no memory. Elliott had found him on the outskirts of town, caught in a bright bronze net and left for dead, and had immediately brought him to the town’s Doctor. The town had been gracious enough to provide Virgil with a small house and some land to make a living off of. Virgil had been given far, far more than a poor, ugly man like him ever deserved and he had tried his best to pay the town back ever since. He gave deals to the town folks on his carrots and beets, he did odd jobs in the winter for half the price he charged for out of towners, and when the town announced that they would be making a temple for the God of Family and Safe Havens, Virgil went out and chopped down as many of his own trees that they would need.

Even if Virgil wasn’t sure what he thought about these Gods, he would give everything and anything to the people who had given him a home, their food, and the clothes off their back.

Though, it wasn’t like what he gave was anything special. Though the farmwork he did was hard and backbreaking, the corps flourished under Virgil’s hands. It wasn’t like he ever did anything special. He just did what every other farmer did. Maybe it was just that Virgil did what he loved. Waking up early and going out to work with his vegetables and his two little fruit trees were hard but Virgil loved it so much that anyone who happened to walk onto his land had a good chance of hearing him sing as he worked. As long as what he did made the town happy, Virgil was happy.

Virgil was startled from his thoughts from banging on his door, the excited voice of his best friend calling from outside, “Virgil! Virgil, wake up, wake up!” Virgil yawned shuffled over to the door, opening it with a tired smile. “Hey, Elli. What’s up?”

Elliott beamed at him and surged forward, grabbing Virgil’s arms and making him shiver from the snow and frost on their mittens. “It’s finished! The builders, you know the ones who said that they wouldn’t be able to finish until Spring? The mayor paid them double and they finished! The Temple is opening up tonight and they’re going to be putting out a feast!” They let go of Virgil, stumbling over to the spot on the floor where Virgil’s damp coat, mittens, and gloves had been dumped.

Virgil could only gawk at them, feeling like his brain was having trouble catching up to what Elliott was saying. “It’s finished?! How, when- I haven’t heard anything about the builders starting up again! When did this even happen?!”

“They worked through the night for the last month,” Elliott squealed, practically throwing Virgil’s winter wear at him. “And, dude, I can’t believe I’m even gonna be saying this,” Elliott took Virgil’s hands and said with forced calmness, “the God Patton himself might actually show up.”

Virgil swore that his heart stopped right then and there. Full on, dead stop. “A God?! What the hell are you talking about?! He’s coming here?!”

“It’s this new thing,” Elliott babbled, gesturing at the clothes in Virgil’s arms frantically until Virgil slowly started pulling them on. “It only started in the last few years and only in this country but, recently, whenever a Temple is built, whichever God the Temple is for shows up! They usually mingle for a bit and insist on looking around. I heard that even the God of Logic and all that other stuff showed up in a town a few days away about a month ago! He blessed the town’s teachers, looked around, and then left. People are thinking that the Gods are looking for something or something and that’s why they’re showing up everywhere!”

“Holy shit,” Virgil whispered, pulling his hat on hurriedly. “Holy shit, are you serious?! That’s fucking - we gotta check it out!” He grabbed his boots and practically jammed them on his feet. “We gotta get going now! If we head out now then we can make it to the town by lunchtime! Wait, no, we gotta get an offering! Do you have something to give him? I killed a deer yesterday and I still have its pelt so I’m covered but what about you!?”

Elliott grinned at him and flashed a bright pink ring on their left hand. “I’m good! My Grandma gave me this ring just in case something like this happened before she died years ago. Now come on! We can wait in my house until tonight but we gotta get going!”

Virgil laughed and grabbed Elliott’s hand, pulling them out of the small cabin. “You better have brought your horse and buggy because if I have to walk through all of this snow, I am going to lose it.”

“Of course I did,” Elliott laughed, climbing into the buggy. “And you know that that you could buy a horse of your own from old man Jerry. After you helped him and his wife with that problem they were having, they’d probably give you one for free!” They eyed Virgil’s rising blush with a grin. “And Miss Kitty would give you three buggies for how you helped her with her girlfriend. Heck, she’d give you a carriage!”

“It’s not my fault that I give good advice,” Virgil muttered, ducking his head and trying to get comfortable in his seat. “Besides, Miss Kitty and Jessica’s problem was easy. They just needed to talk, that’s all. I just pointed it out.” He batted Elliott’s arm when he saw them open their mouth to continue talking and - most definitely - continue talking about how Virgil kept getting when it came to giving advice about people’s love lives. “Shut up and get us to town, Elli!”

He ignored Elliott’s laugh and settled back as the horse started making its way back to town. Elliott was just overexaggerating. It wasn’t like Virgil went out looking for people who needed help with their love lives. Just... whenever Virgil was talking to people, the topic of love happened to come up a lot and people always seemed to ask for his advice. Virgil honestly had no idea if the advice he was giving was good, per se. It was just that Virgil seemed to know what he was talking about. People theorized that Virgil had been a Matchmaker before he had come to live here. Virgil wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Besides, it wasn’t just romantic things that people came to Virgil to ask advice on. Virgil had helped with the two orphan boys that had come from the city, the year-long fight that two local sisters were having, and a fight between two best friends. It seemed that Virgil was just good with advice. It wasn’t like it was anything special.

“So, all of the Gods have been showing up lately,” Virgil asked Elliott as the buggy went down the dirt road.

Elliott nodded but then paused. “Well, almost all of them. One of them hasn’t shown up recently. The God of Love and Beauty hasn’t appeared in almost five years now.” They shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I mean, I heard that he was super active before so he’s probably just taking a break. I heard that time passes really quickly for the Gods. I’m sure that he’ll be back sometime soon.

“I mean, what’s the other option? I mean, what kind of bad things can happen to a God?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Temple was beautiful.

Virgil knew that it was nothing compared to the Temples in cities or the Capital. He had heard rumours of those Temples being made from solid gold, with sparkling rubies and sapphires embedded in its walls, and rich offerings given by Kings and Queens stacked through the halls. Compared to those Temples, this little one was nothing. It was barely as big as the local schoolhouse with one room. From looking through the front window, Virgil thought that it looked more like a very cozy and comfortable family room than anything. There was a beautiful fireplace roaring with fire, beds pushed up against the walls, and food stacked on the table. Virgil’s offering of a deer’s pelt was lying on a table along with several others.

“I can’t believe that this is the new Temple,” Virgil whispered to Elliott, both of their eyes wide with wonder. The two of them were at the front of a large crowd in front of the Temple, waiting for entrance. This whole thing was so exciting that Virgil was barely aware of the dull sting from the wind hitting his scars. “I mean, it’s great but it’s... not what I thought it’d look like.” While it might not be what they were expecting, it was still the most wonderful place that either of them had ever seen.

Elliott grinned at him, bouncing up and down in excitement. “Me neither but this is the God of Family and Safe Havens. I bet that this Temple would look a lot different if this was a Temple for the God of Beauty and Love or for the God of Self Preservation. I hear that the God Patton lets people use his Temples as Safe Havens, just like the God Janus.” They gasped when a soft, warm blue light glowed from the inside of the house, bathing everything inside with its light. “Oh my gosh,” they whispered, gripping Virgil’s arm tightly. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this, I can’t believe this! He’s actually coming, he’s actually showing up!”

The crowd of people immediately quieted and no one made a single sound. Virgil could’ve dropped a pin and it would’ve been the loudest sound in the entire town. Slowly, the light coming from the Temple died down. Though, and maybe this was just Virgil seeing things, the inside of the Temple seemed warmer somehow. It seemed homier. And the large man standing in the, just minutes before empty, Temple seemed completely right there.

Virgil watched through the front window with wide eyes as the man slowly looked around. He was huge, almost six feet, with curly blond hair and big round glasses that were perched on top of a small bottom nose, covering big blue eyes. There were freckles on each and every inch of the man’s skin and there were laugh lines around his eyes. He was wearing comfortable clothes and had the air of a person that you could trust. The kind of person that you would run to if you had a problem or no one else you could turn to. He looked... like a Dad.

He looked familiar.

The God slowly walked through the Temple with a small smile, gently touching the walls and taking a minute to look at the food. Virgil watched him kneel by the fireplace and gently stroke it for a few seconds, glowing embers jumping from the fire and onto the God’s skin only for the God to brush them from his skin with no sign of injury. And Virgil watched as, slowly, the God stood and made his way to the door leading outside to the crowd waiting outside.

Virgil hurried to kneel with the rest of the town, breath catching at the God stepped outside. Most, including Elliott, had their heads bowed respectfully but Virgil could only gawk dumbly as the God looked out at them with a smile. For almost a second there, it looked like he was looking for something and he had to hold back his disappointment when he didn’t find it. But he kept a smile firmly on his face as he went back to looking through the crowd. He had just opened his mouth to say something when his gaze landed on Virgil’s ugly scarred face. Virgil felt a pit of terror settle into him as the God’s face went from gratitude and forced happiness to an expression that Virgil didn’t have the time to fully understand at before the God was almost running at him.

“Vergilius!”

The crowd scrambled away from Virgil, Elliott being pulled from him from someone, and Virgil felt frozen as the God landed in front of him. Distantly, in the back of Virgil’s mind, he remembered a mean rumour that had circulated when Virgil had first been found. That Virgil had somehow offended a God and, in punishment, the Gods had scarred him and stolen his memory. Virgil had never believed these rumours but now, Virgil thought that it might be true. And if they had stolen Virgil’s memory the first time, Virgil found that he was utterly terrified to discover what they might take this time.

Virgil jumped as large, calloused but gentle hands cupped his cheeks, tilting his head up so he was staring right in the watery eyes of the God of Family and Safe Havens. The God’s glasses were slightly crooked and had slid down right down to the edge of his nose. Tears were making their way down his cheeks and the God’s lips were turned up in a bright, slight disbelieving but so relieved grin. The God was rubbing a thumb into Virgil’s cheek gently while the other was hovering frantically around Virgil like it didn’t know where exactly it should settle. “Oh, Vergilius,” the God whispered, voice cracking. “Oh, you’re here. You’re safe.”

“Vergilius?”

“As in the God Vergilius?!”

“The God of Love and Beauty!?”

“Virgil, our Virgil?”

“What is a God doing living in a cabin on the edge of a poor little town?”

“I,” Virgil licked his suddenly dry lips, staring at the God in confusion and a bit of fear, “my name is Virgil. I’m sorry but, I think I you got the wrong person. I’m, I’m not,” his words trailed away from him, not sure what to say. He found himself leaning into the God’s hand and had to jerk away. Had to jerk away from the feeling of ‘finally-I’m-finally-home-I-was-so-scared-but-I’m-home-and-I-was-so-scared-but-I-knew-that-you’d-find-me’.

The God laughed, but it sounded more confused than anything. “Kiddo, Vergilius, what are you talking about? Oh, Sweetheart, what happened?” Virgil’s breath caught as one of the God’s huge fingers gently brushed against one of the scars surrounding his eyes. “Who did this to you,” the God asked, his voice darkening and full of power. He looked up and he seemed like a God for the first time since he had arrived as he demanded, “Did these Mortals do this to you?!”

Almost a full year ago, Elliott had told Virgil that there was a reason that Patton was the God of both Families and Safe Havens. Because no one would dare step into one of the God’s Safe Havens and try to hurt someone who had hidden there. Because those who stayed there were the God’s family and no one would risk Patton’s wrath. Virgil hadn’t been completely convinced if Elliott wasn’t exaggerating back then, of the God’s terrible wrath on those who had hurt those who he had deemed family.

But now, as the ground started to shake and the sun started to burn impossibly bright, Virgil knew that Elliott had been under-exaggerating.

“Wait,” Virgil cried, lurching forward and grabbing Patton’s arm desperately just as the God had started to rise. “Please, don’t hurt them! They saved me, they didn’t hurt me,” he pleaded. “Please, please don’t hurt them, please.”

The God stared down at Virgil, one hand still cupping his cheek. “You’re sure,” he asked softly, the shaking ground slowly calming and the sun’s harsh beams dimming slightly. “Are you sure, Sweetheart? They’ve helped you?”

“They found me in a bronze net,” Virgil babbled, keeping a tight grip on Patton’s arm like he could single-handedly stop the God if he tried anything. “Elliott did. They found me without my memories and brought me to a Doctor and healed me. They gave me a house and land and fruit trees and seeds and they never hurt me, I promise, I swear!” His chest was burning with the love he had for this small town and the people in it and he was honestly afraid that his chest would burst from just how much of it there was.

There was a long pause before the God slowly pulled Virgil up until he was standing, paying attention only to Virgil and giving none of it to the townfolks watching with bated breath. Both of Patton’s hands cupped Virgil’s cheeks and he asked softly, voice almost unhearable, “Do you know who I am, Kiddo? Do you remember me?”

Virgil blinked and the tears that had been building during his frantic plea starting slowly trickling down his face. “You’re Patton,” he whispered softly, “the God of Families and Safe Havens. The Creator of Janus, the God of Self Preservation and, and a lot of other things. The Father of the Council of Gods.” He let out a shaky breath as the God bowed his head, letting his forehead rest on Virgil’s. “Am... am I wrong?”

The God let out a shaky, pained laugh. “No, Kiddo. No, you’re not wrong.” He looked up at the pale, terrified Mayor and gave him a wobbly smile “Thank you for the Temple. It’s beautiful. I love it.” He turned back to Virgil and gently petted his hair. “I need you to come with me, okay Darling? I know this is all probably very scary and overwhelming for you but I need you to be brave, okay?”

“You... you won’t hurt them,” Virgil asked shakily, looking over his shoulder at the townsfolk. Even though they looked terrified, many of them managed to give Virgil weak and encouraging smiles. One of them, an older lady named Miss Julia, looked like the only reason she wasn’t beating Patton away with her cane was her partner, Hannah, gripping onto her arm tightly. “Right? They protected me. You promise you won’t hurt them?”

The God smiled at him gently, pressing a kiss onto his forehead. “I promise, Sweetheart.” And, with that, Virgil was pulled into a gentle hug and his face was gently pushed into the God’s shoulder so he couldn’t see what was happening. Virgil was about to pull away, terrified that he’d look back to see that his town had been wiped off the map, but he found himself falling limp into the God’s arm when a warm, safe feeling flooded into him and the ground was whisked out from under him. The harsh winter wind disappeared and, for one brief moment, there was only Virgil and the God.

And then, Virgil stumbled as a floor reappeared under his feet. Even without looking, Virgil knew that it was the most expensive floor that he could remember standing on. It was smooth and felt like it had been freshly waxed. He pulled back away from Patton and looked around, eyes widening. Now, this was a Temple.

They were in a large room that wouldn’t look out of place as a King’s throne room. Nine empty thrones were placed around the room, all of them looking completely different from each other. And, for some reason, Virgil felt drawn toward the smallest, almost dainty looking one on the far left side of the room. Like it was meant to be his.

“Does this room seem similar to you at all,” the God asked gently, keeping one hand on Virgil’s shoulder. He seemed to deflate a little when Virgil shook his head. “Okay, that's okay, Kiddo. Now, I want you to wait here, okay Hon? I’m going to get our friends and we can talk this whole thing out.” He leaned forward and gave Virgil a gentle kiss on his forehead before leaving the throne room and leaving Virgil alone.

Virgil swallowed and looked around slowly, trying his best to get his bearings. The room was gorgeous but his eyes kept getting drawn to the small, purple and black throne. It was deceptively dainty looking almost like the throne of a Queen that Virgil had seen once in a book Elliott had given him. But, even from halfway across the room, Virgil could see that the metal was sharp and there were two small, detachable knives on the arms of the throne that would’ve been perfect if the person sitting there suddenly needed something to throw. And there was a power simply radiating from the throne, like if the wrong person sat in it then they’d simply cease to exist.

It was beautiful.

There was a sudden flurry of noise and Virgil spun around, tensing up defensively. The noise was coming from a doorway and Virgil could hear one voice rising above all the others, “You can’t be serious, Patton! He’s been in a dirt poor farm town this entire time?!” There was the soft of Patton answering back, though Virgil couldn’t make out exactly what he said, and the same voice from before snapped back, “No way! Vergilius wouldn’t stay away from us, we’re his family! Whoever you brought back is an imposter, it has to be!”

Virgil stepped forward nervously, walking up to the doorway and standing right beside it but still not be seen. A new voice jumped in, low and suave. “We don’t know that, Roman. We should meet him, just in case it really is Vergilius!”

“But what if this is some evil monster who tries to put us under his spell?!”

“Roman - hes’s not a monster!”

Virgil jumped at a new voice snapped out, “Enough!” Roman, Remus, Emile, Remy, you four stay here. Myself, Patton, and Janus will meet with... whoever Patton has brought here.”

“It’s Vergilius,” Patton cried, sounding close to tears. “Logan, I promise-”

“I know, Patton, I know. We’re just going to check that this is Vergilius for certain, okay Sweetling? And if this truly is Vergilius, we’ll want to make sure that he’s okay first before bombarding him all at once. This is just to be safe.”

“And if this is an imposter, then me and Roman will stab him to death and push him into a vat of boiling poison!”

“For once, I agree with my brother.”

Virgil felt a cold stab of fear before it was overwhelmed with the feeling of hot, harsh anger. He was basically dragged here, taken from his home because apparently, some God thought that he was the God of Love and Beauty - fucking ridiculous - and now some other God decided that if he didn’t look enough like this missing God than they were going to be taking Virgil’s life as punishment. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Before Virgil even knew what he was doing, he was already halfway through the door and spitting out, “Well I fucking don’t!”

The hallway was filled with eight people, all who turned at the sound of Virgil’s voice, but Virgil turned all of his attention to the one with a sword drawn and glaring daggers at Virgil. He didn’t half to be a genius to know that this was the guy who had called him an imposter and jumped right on board with the ‘Killing Virgil’ plan. Virgil decided that he didn’t like this guy.

The guy - he had to be God - puffed up and stalked up to Virgil, baring his teeth at him. “How dare you wear the face of my friend, you imposter!”

“I’m not a fucking imposter and I’m not your fucking friend,” Virgil snapped, planting his feet and glaring up at him. The God glared right back at him with bright red eyes, gripping his sword so tightly that his knuckles were turning bright white. “So don’t go yelling at me!” He pushed at the God’s sword arm so hard that the God nearly dropped his weapon.

There was a moment of tense silence before one of the others cleared their voice, stepped forward with a raised finger and said, “Just so you all know, I’m on Pattycake’s side. That is definitely Vergilius.” They stepped back with a smirk as the God with the sword turned his glare at him. “Hey, just saying, Roman.”

The God - Roman - huffed and turned his snarl back to Virgil. “I don’t care what you say, Remy. I know Verglius and he wouldn’t hide out in some random town while we’re all looking for him!”

“My name isn’t Vergilius,” Virgil snapped, feeling the urge to stop his foot. “It’s Virgil! I don’t know any of you guys and my name is Virgil!”

Roman spread his arm and nodded firmly. “See!? Even the Mortal agrees! This was just a mistake.” He sheathed his sword and offered Virgil his arm with a sharp smile. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll escort you back to your home and we can go back to looking for the real Vergilius.”

“Wait,” Patton cried, stepping forward and shoving himself between Virgil and Roman. “Roman, I know that this is Vergilius, I just know it! He told me that he had no memories, he told me this! Logan,” he turned to a short man who was staring at Virgil with dark narrowed eyes, “Logan, you believe me, don’t you?”

“...He does bear an uncanny resemblance to Vergilius,” Logan hummed, stroking his chin with thin, boney fingers. “And if he did indeed lose his memories than that would explain why Vergilius never sent word and how he gained those scars. Though, we have had many imposters in the last five years that you were also sure was Vergilius, Patton,” he continued gently.

“It’s Virgil,” Virgil said sharply, straightening up and glaring at the God.

Logan sighed in frustration and opened his mouth but was cut off by that same suave voice from before. “Well, then, there really is a simple way of solving this, isn’t there?” Virgil turned to look at who was talking and froze.

Staring back at him was a man with sharp golden eyes and bright green scales going down the left half of his face, staring down at Virgil with an unreadable expression. He tilted his head and said smoothly with a shrug, “Make him sit in Vergilius’ chair.”

One of the Gods who hadn’t spoken yet - a God who looked very similar to Patton but with bright pink and blue eyes, long brown hair instead of blond, and an outfit that wouldn’t look out of place on a scholar - stepped forward with a frown. “But, Janus, that’s not fair to the Mortal! Patton brought him here, he didn’t come here claiming to be Vergilius! If it turns out that he isn’t Vergilius then the power will overwhelm him and -”

“Wait,” Virgil cried, throwing his hands up in the air. He tilted his chin up and glared at the intimidating God, Janus. “Sitting in that chair will prove whether or not I’m this Vergilius?” Janus had barely nodded before Virgil was turning back to the throne room to sit in the stupid damn chair so he could go back to his farm and sleep until fucking spring.

But Janus’ hand snapped out and grabbed Virgil’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks. “As a favour to Emile here,” he said, nodding at the God with pink and blue eyes, “I will warn you to what the chair will do if you’re not Vergilius.” His lips quirked up. “Unless you’d like to just charge in and sit in it without knowing.”

Virgil wanted to scream, he really did. He could be told what would happen if he wasn’t Vergilius - which judging from what Emile had been saying was probably nothing good - and lose his nerve. Which might just prove to these Gods that he was an imposter and Virgil would be in for a world of pain. Or he would just go in to sit on the throne and damn the consequences.

Virgil blamed the decision he made next on how angry he currently was. There was no way for any anxiety or common sense to peek out and make Virgil nervous enough to take a second and really think about what he was about to do. Before he could fully think about what he was doing, Virgil ripped his wrist away from the smirking God and turned back to the Throne Room, stomping across the hall and ignoring the calls of Patton and Emile to wait and let them explain first before trying it.

Instead, he hoisted himself upon the Throne and sat back, closing his eyes.

It was the most comfortable chair ever. It was like someone had studied Virgil’s body and had shaped the Throne around him. The pillow on the throne felt like it was stuffed full of duck feathers and was made out of velvet. Velvet. Virgil had never even seen velvet before. It was the most comfortable Throne in the history of Thrones. Virgil didn’t know how he knew that and he wasn’t going to think on too closely.

“Okay, so, I sat in the stupid chair,” Virgil groaned as he leant forward. As sad as he was to get out of the Throne, he really wanted to go home and check-in with the rest of the townsfolk. “Can I go home now?” He froze though when he opened his eyes and saw all eight Gods standing around him and watching him with various expressions on their faces.

“I knew it,” Patton whispered a large grin on his face and tears gathering in his eyes. “I knew it.”

Roman was staring at Virgil in numb shock, tears running down his cheek. “Oh... you’re really him,” he whispered. His hand twitched like he wanted to pull Virgil into a hug but he couldn’t commit to the action. “Vergilius.”

Virgil twitched backward, leaning back into the throne. “No, I told you. My name’s Virgil. I’m not -”

“You are,” Janus said, stepping forward. He was smiling at Virgil with tears in his eyes, looking so happy and relieved. “That throne was made specifically for Vergilius and your atoms would’ve melted if you weren’t truly Vergilius. Even if you don’t remember your life as Vergilius or don’t remember us, you are our Vergilius.” His smile grew into a large grin. “Oh, Dear One, I’m so happy that you’re safe.”

Virgil blinked dumbly, feeling like everything he knew had just been turned upside down and nothing made sense anymore. He didn’t want to believe it. He just wanted to go back home, visit with Elliott, and then sleep in his own bed. He didn’t want to believe it.

But he did.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered, tears of confusion pricking at his eyes. “If I... if I really am Vergilius... then what happened? How did... where... What happened?”

Janus pulled Virgil into a tight hug, holding him so tightly like he was terrified that if he let go than Virgil would disappear. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t. But we’re going to find out. And until we do, we’re never going to let something like this happen again. I promise.”

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@the-v-gees

@tiredfluid

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@trust-me-i-just-get-weirder

@radioactivehelena

@max-is-tired

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@alsoyouremischievous

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@imjustawibba

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@fandoms-winkitywonk

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@angels-and-dreams

@europa-bear

@pumpkinminette

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@ravens-rambling

@felicianoromano

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#Storm Writes #Bad Things Happen Bingo #Tw Memory Loss #tw scars #Virgil Sanders #Patton Sanders #Janus Sanders #Roman Sanders #Emile Sanders #Remy Sanders #Elliott (Cartoon Therapy)#Remus Sanders #though Remus only has one line and isn't mentioned by name directly #Anonymous

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troped-fanfic-challenge · 3 years

Text

JATP ROUND TWO FICS!

We received seventeen (17!!!!!) Fics for the Second Round of the JATP TROPED Event! These fics were fluff-filled and super fun, and we loved to see how you all challenged yourselves with the theme, tropes, and pairings!

Please try to read as many fics as you can! Take some notes, leave some kudos/comments for the authors, and help us vote on the winners!

Voting will be open until May 14th at 11:59pm EST! Vote here:

https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/BZ3W5FT

Please rank ALL the fics in each question based on the USE of each trope, the theme, the fics overall, and the two bonus polls (best setting + most unique pairing)! Your #1 spot should be the best answer and your last spot the least likely answer for the question. The Best Overall Poll will determine who will be writing in the Final Round! We ask that you please rank EVERY fic, so we can avoid technical difficulties! A reminder that you must include a Tumblr or AO3 username/URL, and you may only vote once, we will NOT count multiple votes by the same person.

————

Okay, Campers, Rise and Shine! (Rated T) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: When Reggie launches a particularly ill-advised prank war at HGC Ranch, Luke's fully prepared to take it in stride.

When the days start looping, though, he begins to suspect that this might all be a little bit above his head.

In other words, he's at least 78% sure that the time loop isn't a direct result of Reggie's pranks.

Maybe 77%.

Oh, well.

At least he's not in it alone.

(The Groundhog Day meets Gravity Falls meets Summer Camp meets The Author's Own Distaste For Prank Wars AU that no one asked for. Ever. At all.)

Starting To Forget (Just What Summer Ever Meant To You) (Not Rated) [Flynn x Carrie]

Summary: Last summer didn't end on a positive note for Carrie Wilson - she and her girlfriend broke up on the last night of camp, and she's been miserable since. But it seems that the universe is intent on having her fix that this summer. Even if that means she has to live through the same day over and over and over again until she does.

Creative B.S. Was No More, Was No Less (Look Around, You're Gonna Miss What You Found) (Rated T) [Alex x Luke, Flynn x Reggie]

Summary: The midnight men move again

Don't know when

Best friends forever

In trouble again

Here's to you, here's to me

Over the rafters and we're free

--- Over the Rafters, Rick Schiffman

***

Alex and Luke go undercover on a mission to a summer camp in order to find a talisman that could endanger the camp and all the kids. While there, they bond with the kids and make peace with the fact that they broke up.

While Alex and Luke are away, Flynn accidentally fucks with time.

bitch but like romantically (Rated T) [Flynn x Carrie]

Summary: The dining hall’s exactly the same as it has been for two mornings now, and Flynn doesn’t hesitate to poke Willie twice on the nose and whisper “pancake” on her way past their seat.

His eyes widen and he whips his head around to follow them, excitement glimmering in their eyes.

“Really?” they blurt. Flynn rolls her eyes and nods.

or: flynn gets stuck in a time loop. {for troped jatp round 2}

down by the bay (Rated T) [Alex x Willie]

Summary: Over time, Camp Phantom has simply become known as a selective summer camp: one that took only the kids that Caleb saw promise in. And Caleb wasn’t exactly lying. He really did take only the ones he saw promise in, he simply looked for different traits than others might.

For example, say, hypothetically, a boy who could see the future. Or, hypothetically, a girl who could interact with ghosts. Or, hypothetically, a boy who could summon objects to him with a simple thought. Or, and this is completely hypothetical mind you, a boy who could manipulate time.

Those might be some traits that Caleb saw promise in. Just, like, as examples.

Time will tell (But only if you do it right) (Rated T) [Flynn x Carrie]

Summary: Carrie had been acting a little off for a week or so, but Flynn was pretty much known for seeing something in nothing, and that was probably what they were doing then. If something was going on, Carrie would tell her eventually.

Who knew all it took was a little bit of miscommunication to mess up time itself?

and so it begins (Rated T) [Bobby x Reggie]

Summary: It’s the first day of their second week at Camp Carolling (they’re spending an entire month, and they’re getting paid to be there!) when Reggie gets a little lost in the woods. During this misadventure into the woods, he finds an egg shaped rock, an inhabited cabin that may or may not be riddled with signs, and something that might be magic. He probably doesn't get paid enough to discover magic.

or, when they were thirteen years old, four boys met at camp carolling and eventually became a band that almost became something legendary. now, all four boys are coming back as counselors, three boys in one band and one boy in his own solo act.

so begins the reunion, though it doesn't go how any of them imagine.

Porcupine Day (Rated T) [Bobby x Ray x Rose]

Summary: It’s been fifteen years since Trevor broke up with Ray and Rose and they’re... not fine, but managing. But when Trevor to adds insult to injury and buys the camp across the lake from the one they once owned together, the two camps become locked in a bitter rivalry. With neither side willing to set aside their pride and work out their issues, the universe decides to settle their fates itself.

Day After Day (After Day After Day) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie]

Summary: When Alex met Willie just after their senior year of high school, they spent a wonderful three months dating before their relationship ended in a blaze of glory. Now, four years later, they meet again as counselors at a summer camp. The only problem? Alex keeps reliving their first day together. The day that Luke had declared "Prank Day."

This is not how Alex pictured his summer going.

clocks move faster (it's all we're after) (Rated G) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: Julie likes it when her friends are happy, so when she realizes she's stuck in a time loop, she uses her knowledge to make sure everything works out for everyone... except she conveniently forgets to factor herself (and Luke) into the mix.

Touch of Magic (Not Rated) [Alex x Luke]

Summary: When everything stands in Luke and Alex’s way of getting to be with the people they love, they have to repeat the day over and over until they can get the happily ever after that they want.

The play's the thing (that goes wrong) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie]

Summary: Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day for Macbeth, but not so for Alex and the production of Hamlet that he is directing and starring in. And while he's stuck repeating the day of the performance over and over, mishaps of all kinds befall the cast.

anything, anything (for another run with you) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie]

Summary: The moment Alex steps foot in Camp Greenwood, he knows that this summer is a bad idea.

He knows it as soon as he sees tan skin, long hair, and a tie-dyed crop top at the check-in table.

Willie.

the camp counselor/exes/prank war/time loop fic of your dreams (unless you read all of the other troped round 2 fics lmao)

there’s a glorious sunrise, dappled with the flickers of light (Rated T) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: What comes next happens in slow motion. Luke’s foot catches on the last rung of the ladder. Julie watches as he stumbles a step forward, barely catching himself before falling on his face. The ladder clatters to the floor below. The trapdoor, no longer propped open by it, falls closed with a loud thunk, the lock clicking into place. They’re stuck.

“Luke!” she exclaims loudly. “Look what you did!” Julie drops to her knees in front of the trap door, desperately trying to fit her fingers between the wood and the stone to pry it open again. Of course it doesn’t work.

“What?” he snaps back. “I wouldn’t be up here in the first place if it weren’t for you trying to fuck us over.”

or: ex-best friends Luke and Julie, working as camp counselors at rivaling camps, find themselves stuck in a time loop

the daughter of apollo (Rated T) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: (the JATP x Camp Half Blood AU that nobody asked for)

maybe the world isn't ending (maybe it's been postponed) (Rated G) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: Alex runs his fingers through Willie’s hair. “I think it’s best to just leave them to their own prank war at this point. Let’s not forget that time Julie put hot sauce in the coffee pot and my mouth was on fire for an entire hour.”

“You’re exaggerating, Alex-”

“I most certainly am not,” Alex cuts Reggie off.

“Or how about the time Luke tried to put glitter in Julie’s bed,” Carrie joins in, “but got my bed instead? I can appreciate some glitter, but even I know when enough is enough.”

“Suffice it to say,” Willie finishes after they’ve passed around a dozen or so more memories of pranks from the summer, “we’re all done being your collateral damage. Whatever Julie has planned for you tomorrow, Luke, you’re on your own.”

It's the last day of camp and Julie has one more prank planned for Luke. He just doesn't know what it is.

Here We Go Again (Rated T) [Julie x Luke]

Summary: Julie blinked as she stared at the place Euterpe had disappeared. What did that even mean? What journey? Old places and lost faces? What was she talking about? But before she could dwell on the questions swirling around in her mind, the sky full of stars began to move, shifting in place and descending until they were all around her. Julie felt her feet leave the ground as she rose up and up. One star in particular was burning brighter than the others, growing bigger in front of her.

It grew and grew, until the light was blinding and Julie had to throw a hand up against the harsh light. She closed her eyes as the light surrounded her and then she was falling. Falling down, down, down.

#troped: jatp #round 2: fluff #jatp fanfiction #submissions #round 2 submissions #round 2 voting #troped: voting

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youngerdrgrey · 3 years

Text

love me wilder (love me more) // scenes from Ryan and Sophie’s relationship

about: Mary starts all of this. They’re on comms one night, and Mary asks, “Would I be Maid of Honor, or would it be Luke?”

and other questions about Ryan and Sophie's relationship. + you can read this on ao3 too.

Who asks the other on dates? Once they’re dating, it’s pretty even, but Sophie does get the credit for their first official date. It happens on the third time that Ryan bails on plans with Sophie and Jordan. They’re supposed to be seeing an art installation for their self-proclaimed ‘Black girl date night.’ But Sophie shows up to The Hold Up to pick up Ryan, and Ryan’s tending bar with an apologetic and frustrated grin.

Sophie stomps over to the bar. “Again, Ryan?”

Ryan slides a drink to the customer beside Sophie. “Yes, again. Patrice is sick and—”

“And nobody else can cover? You’re the manager.” Sophie says. “Call someone in.”

Ryan takes the credit card from the customer, who unabashedly watches Ryan as she swipes the card in the reader. Her work tank’s tied into a crop top like always, and she’s pulled her hair back in a way that really draws the attention to her neck.

Ryan says, “I don’t abuse my power.” It’s the sort of dig that a few months ago would’ve started a fight, but today it just makes Sophie groan and dig her elbows into the bar top to get closer to Ryan.

“You don’t do anything,” Sophie corrects. At this point, Ryan's either working as Batwoman, or working at the bar. She has no social life, which kind of screws things up for the one person who's actively trying to spend time with her.

Ryan snorts. “Okay, choice words from the lady going on a date with her sister on a Friday night.”

Sophie levels Ryan with a serious stare. “I’d go with you, but you’re too busy.” Ryan rolls her eyes, but Sophie isn’t joking. There’s no hint of a smile, no hitch in her voice. Ryan rewinds the last few minutes in her head.

“Wait —” Ryan circles her hands backwards in front of her. Rewind again. Reprocess the fact that Sophie used date and Ryan in the same context. “—are you serious? You’re... you’re actually—”

Sophie chuckles, and there’s a bit of a nervous shake under it. “And I thought I was the inexperienced one here.”

“You are,” Ryan says. That gets a glare from Sophie. Ryan plucks the receipt for the customer off the printer and slides that to them before turning her focus fully back to Sophie. “But I’m game.”

Sophie grins. “Really?”

Ryan flashes a full smile back. “Yeah. As soon as Patrice gets better.”

“Let me make her some soup then, damn.”

Who is the bigger cuddler?

Ryan. She’s very affectionate, and she loves snuggling up anywhere she can. Mary complains sometimes about how often she comes home to find Ryan and Sophie on the couch.

Luke cringes when Mary says it. His eyes jump from the Bat screens to Mary in the chair beside him. “Like on the couch?” Mid-deed?

“Ugh, I wish.” Mary quickly shakes her head, as a quick disgusted look passes her face. “Not like I wish, just like…. I come home, and they’re not even doing anything. They’re asleep on the couch, just wrapped up in each other’s arms and happy and comfy and….” She sighs.

Luke drums his hands on the keyboard. “And you want that?”

Mary slumps into her chair and lets her head roll onto her shoulder. The lights paint her softer, or maybe it’s the open vulnerability now that she doesn’t have to be the perky sidekick she usually is. It’s actually one of the good things about working with Luke; he doesn’t expect her to be happy, perfect Mary.

“I want something. We spend all day living our normal lives, then rushing away to help save Gotham, and it’s totally worth it. It is. But before, when the work was done, I went home to my best friend in the world.” Mary glances up at the monitors where the two dots tracking Ryan and Sophie rush across the Gotham map. “Now she has someone else. And no offense to you, but we’re not exactly swapping secrets and having sweet potato pancakes.”

Mary does love Sophie and Ryan. She loves that Sophie is moving forward after losing Kate, and she loves that Ryan has someone other than Angelique to care about. But Mary has also spent so much of her life begging people to care about her. It’s hard not to feel like this is Kate and Beth and her dad all over again. She’s getting really tired of being replaced.

Luke clears his throat. He even sits up straighter in his chair when he turns it. The monitors behind him almost make him look like an angel. Or whatever.

He says, “I can’t make sweet potato pancakes,” like it’s an apology, or maybe a concession from someone else who knows what it’s like to be the odd one out. “But I do make a mean crab cake. If you’re in the market for more friends.”

Mary can work with that. But at the risk of this feeling entirely too sentimental for a mid-mission chat, she adds, “Fine, but no cuddling on the couch.”

Luke smiles. “You wish.”

Who initiates holding hands more often?

Ryan cannot get enough of Sophie’s hands. She’s constantly reaching out during team meetings, or across the bar at The Hold Up. She believes in the reassuring squeeze. At the same time, Sophie’s the one who actually initiates the hand holding and interlocking fingers. She claims it’s her way of keeping track of Ryan, reminding her that “you’re stuck with me, and you trust me.”

“There are other ways to show that, Sophie,” Ryan taunts. Sophie uses their linked hands to tug Ryan over to her.

“Show me?”

Who remembers anniversaries?

Ryan smiles up at Sophie on the couch.

“Aww, babe, three years ago, you arrested me for the first time.”

Sophie rolls her eyes. “That’s the anniversary you remember?”

Ryan laughs. “It truly changed my life.”

“Okay, well, remember that when you want an anniversary present in three weeks—”

“Four,” Ryan corrects. “Three weeks is when the date should’ve happened, but you got a flat, then Black Mask attacked—”

Sophie nods, “Right, and we didn’t actually go out until after he was in holding. I stand corrected.”

Ryan preens until Sophie pushes her away.

Who is more possessive?

Ryan used to think she was possessive. She would do anything to keep the people she loves by her side. But then Kate Kane comes back into their lives, and suddenly Ryan’s on the verge of losing everything that she’s built for herself. She keeps jumping between being incredibly self-sacrificing and hoarding away her minutes with the rest of the team like Kate’s coming to snatch them away.

One particular night, Ryan drops down onto Sophie’s fire escape in the suit. Her feet barely hit the level before she spots Kate inside Sophie’s apartment.

Sans jacket, Kate’s tattooed arms look great in the moonlight. Her everything looks great. Ryan can’t see everything, but she can see the playful smirk on Kate’s face as she crosses the living room. Sophie’s not visible, which means she must already be in the bedroom. Is she waiting for Kate? Is she --

Ryan stumbles back. Sophie wouldn’t cheat on her. Ryan knows that, but if there was ever a reason to break up, it’s definitely the love of Sophie’s life wanting to start over again. And who is Ryan to stand in the way of that?

So, Ryan grinds her teeth and jumps back off of the balcony.

She gets halfway back to Wayne Tower before the comms buzz in her ear. She pauses on top of a random roof to answer the incoming call.

“Ryan, get back here.”

Of course Sophie saw her. The grappling hook isn’t exactly the quietest way to move either. Though, Sophie had certainly taken her time to reach out.

Ryan lets a bit of bitterness slip out. “Your plans with Kate fall through?”

“I don’t have plans with Kate,” Sophie says. She sounds tired and frustrated, like whatever conversation she’d had probably took a lot out of her. Or maybe just reuniting with her one true love did that. Who’s Ryan to know?

“Sure looked like it to me.”

“And if you’d looked any longer, you would’ve seen her grab her things and go. I don’t want to do this over comms, Ryan.”

“What, break up with me?”

“Why would you even —” Sophie sucks in a deep breath. “Kate was here to clear the air. She wanted to know if there was a chance that we could try again.”

Ryan needs to sit down. She needs to lean against something. Her eyes dart across the roof, but there’s nothing up here but spider webs and deflated balloons.

“Oh.” Ryan circles her jaw to try and stop herself from crying. She’s not going to cry over Sophie. She should’ve known better than to ever think that Kate Kane’s ex would choose her over—

“I told her no.”

What? The air rushes out of Ryan’s lungs.

Sophie repeats herself. “I told her no. Now can you please get back here before I have to drive all the way over to wherever the hell you are?”

“It’s faster by roof.”

“Give me the grappling hook, and I’ll try it out.”

Ryan clicks her tongue. “Can’t do it, that’s mine.”

“And you’re mine, Ryan. Nobody’s changing that, okay? Trust me.”

Ryan glances over at the long way back to Sophie’s place. The trek across the city that they help keep safe. “I do.”

Who gets more jealous?

Sophie really wishes she weren’t this jealous. She’s not super familiar with the feeling. With Tyler, her emotions never went this high. With Kate, there either wasn’t competition, or well, the guilt of how things went overshadowed everything else. But with Ryan — hot, flirty bartender Ryan — the opportunities for jealousy keep building.

It doesn’t help that Imani shows up from time to time for different fundraiser events. Sophie watches Imani and Ryan from across The Hold Up. Her eyes narrow, and she zones out of her conversation with Mary so completely that the young medical professional ends up waving her hand in front of Sophie’s face.

Mary steps over to block Sophie’s view of them. “You do know Imani’s not a threat, right?”

Sophie nods. She taps on the side of her head. “Up here, yes. But in here….” She rubs her hand over her heart.

“Ryan’s so into you, and you know that. Any jealousy is completely ridiculous,” Mary says.

Sophie nods. Again. “I’m gonna go over there.” She knocks back the drink in her hand and hands it to Mary, who mostly just clinks that cup with her own.

Mary mumbles to herself, “’Gee, Mary, thanks for being such a great friend. Let’s keep talking together instead of rushing over like a jealous lunatic.’” Her face perks up as she plays herself. “Of course, Sophie, so glad you’re being super reasonable. Love you too.”

By the time Mary finishes her own drink, Sophie’s leading a very amused Ryan up the stairs towards the loft. Mary sighs. She really may have to move out soon.

Who is more protective?

This one’s a tie. Ryan tries to protect Sophie by sidelining Sophie on the Bat Team. But Sophie is used to being in the field, or at least calling the shots. She doesn’t do well in the Bat Cave where she can’t physically assist. That back and forth goes on for months, but it comes to a head when Ryan needs to get on a plane again to try and catch their latest bad guy of the week.

Sophie hates the idea. She refuses to let Ryan go alone, and the more that Ryan tries to fight it, the more emotional Sophie gets. Ryan assumes that Sophie’s upset because the last private Kane plane ended with Kate in Black Mask’s clutches. But Ryan’s not about to go missing. She doesn’t have enemies like that, and most importantly, as Ryan yells, “Sophie, stop treating me like this! I’m not Kate.”

Sophie sputters before rasping out, “I know that. But the last time you flew, Ryan, you almost died too. In my arms, mind you. Forgive me for not wanting a repeat of that.”

Who is more likely to cheat?

No one’s cheating, but Ryan does have a particularly handsy customer who tries to kiss her once.

Who dislikes PDA the most?

Sophie’s still getting used to the idea of actually having PDA with a woman, but she’s coming around.

Who kills the spider?

Both of them, but Sophie does it more often. Mostly because she doesn’t want to hear Ryan taunting her that “Sophie freaking Moore can’t handle a spider?”

Who asks the other to marry them?

Mary starts all of this. They’re on comms one night, and Mary says, “Would I be Maid of Honor, or would it be Luke?”

The question makes Ryan stumble on her landing, and Sophie crashes into her since they didn’t exactly space out on the wire as they slid from one secret warehouse to another.

Sophie catches her footing first and says, “I’m sorry, what?”

Back in the Bat Cave, Mary ignores the glare that Luke gives her. She leans closer to the mic. “Hypothetically. If you two get married, it’d be a really small ceremony. We’re not inviting Alice. And Jordan will probably be Sophie’s Maid of Honor, so I just wanted to make sure that I get to be Ryan’s.”

Luke huffs. “Then why did you ask a question if you’re calling dibs?”

Mary turns to face him. “Because you can’t call dibs. It has to be her choice.”

“But you’re leading her to pick you. It’s not fair. You were already roommates—”

“Which is exactly why it should be me—”

“But we had to work on our relationship. The growth that we had is just—”

“But you had to work on it! We clicked immediately!”

“You click with everyone!”

“I do not!”

“You do—”

Sophie and Ryan yell into the comms, “GUYS!” Mary and Luke freeze.

Ryan chances a glance at Sophie, who has not actually moved since their friends started this conversation. They’ve been together for nearly two years at this point, and honestly, they’ve both been avoiding having to talk about this. Neither of them have their moms — for very different reasons — and Sophie’s already got one failed marriage under her utility belt.

Sophie readjusts the cowl on her super suit. “Could you wait until after we’re engaged to plan a wedding?”

Ryan does a double take. “After we’re what now?”

Sophie freezes. “Well, I just mean — if things keep going well, because they’ve been going really, really well…?” The damn cowl blocks off most of her face, but Ryan knows Sophie well enough to know that her eyebrows are halfway to her hairline. That higher lilt in Sophie’s voice means she’s reaching, and nervous. Ryan’s thankful that her own mask can cover the way her eyebrows drop as her nose scrunches up. Ryan is not about to cry on this roof.

Ryan goes for the joke. Makes her voice as teasing as she can handle. “Aww, you wanna marry me?”

Sophie crosses the few steps between them to take Ryan’s hand. “Are you asking?”

Ryan interlocks their fingers. “Not officially. Luke hasn’t made a Bata-ring yet.”

Everyone groans. The deep one from Luke is enough to get Sophie to smile, and it finally breaks some of the tension in the air. Ryan brings their linked hands to her lips and kisses them. She makes sure that Sophie’s focused on her before mouthing, Marry me.

Sophie leans in to kiss her, and they both get carried away. Lost in this moment of possibility before —

“Um, guys?” It’s Luke. “Are you working or making out?”

Ryan pulls back from the kiss and says, “Just for that, Mary, you’re Maid of Honor.”

“Ha!”

Who buys the other flowers or gifts?

It’s a trade off. Ryan loves bringing back little things from missions. Sophie is the reigning gift champion though. A few weeks after she joins the team, Sophie shows up at the loft with a plant for Ryan.

“It’s no desert rose, but well, Mary said how much you loved taking care of your old one.” Sophie holds it out for Ryan to take, but Ryan just keeps staring at her. Sophie shifts her weight from one foot to the other. She cringes inwardly. She’s probably tipping her hand too much by doing this. She can’t just show up at a cute girl’s place in her casual clothes and give her a plant. It’s… well, very gay, and probably invasive, given the fact that the last plant Ryan cared for was literally the thing to bring Ryan back to life.

Sophie groans. “Please don’t make me take it back.”

“No! You don’t have to.” Ryan reaches out with both hands to take the plant. She curls it to her chest, hugging it close. She stares down at it for a bit, and when she does look back up, a teary rim frames her eyes. “Thank you.”

Who would bring up possibly having kids?

Ryan really wants to be a mom one day. She’s fine not doing it now. But one day, she wants to do for someone else what her mom did for her.

Sophie gets weird about the idea once Ryan brings it up. Like, ducking out of rooms and coming up with all kinds of excuses as to why she can’t go on missions for a week. She even stays at Jordan’s place for a few nights.

Ryan has to go to Jordan’s apartment just to talk to Sophie alone. She barrels straight into the little two bedroom and plants herself next to the kitchen island. Sophie closes the door behind Ryan, but doesn’t step any closer to her fiance.

Ryan says, “I get it. If Batwoman can’t have a girlfriend, then she sure as hell can’t have a kid. But—”

Sophie cuts her off, “It’s not about Batwoman. It’s about me.”

“Oh.” Does Sophie not want kids?

“Before I came out, the thought of having kids and a family, it all felt so… not me. I told Tyler that I didn’t want kids, that I thought having kids in a city like Gotham was irresponsible and not something I would ever want to do.”

Ryan leans back into the island. Closes her eyes and tries to let the cool feel of the granite calm the pain of those words.

Sophie wrings her hands together. “But I honestly didn't want to do any of that, with a man. And you're right. It's completely irresponsible for Batwoman to have a kid. But maybe… maybe Ryan and Sophie Wilder-Moore could consider it. If we can help clean up a city, we can probably raise a pretty cool kid.”

Who is more nervous to meet the parents?

Sophie is literally shaking when they meet up with Diane Moore for the first time.

Thanks to Jordan, Ryan technically met Diane the week before. Ryan and Jordan were hanging out when Diane FaceTimed Jordan. Once Diane saw Ryan in the background, Jordan casually said, “That’s Ryan, Sophie’s girlfriend.” Then Diane’s entire face caught on fire, and she made an excuse to hang up. Fast forward five days, and Diane called Sophie to say she was “stopping by” for brunch. Reservations were made for four, and now Sophie is going to vibrate into another dimension from shaking so much.

Jordan and Ryan split a sympathetic look outside of Grits and Bear It, one of the best brunch places in Gotham.

Jordan tries to help. She says, “Just don’t mention the ex-con thing, and you’ll be fine.”

Sophie groans. Ryan steps up to Sophie and slips her arms around Sophie’s waist. “Babe, chill. I am a successful manager of a great bar—”

“A gay bar,” Sophie corrects.

Jordan winces. “Don’t mention that part either. Or Batwoman.”

Both Sophie and Ryan freeze. Sophie turns wide eyes up at Jordan and asks, “Why would we…?”

Jordan looks back at them like they’re five. “Because all you do is talk about how Batwoman’s the one person doing anything to help Gotham. And Mom still won’t say her name without gagging in her mouth.”

Sophie drops her head back down on top of Ryan’s. With their height difference, she can press her forehead to the crown of Ryan’s head. Hide away from the world for a moment. Whisper, “We should run. Now. Before she sees us.”

Ryan kisses Sophie on the cheek. “Maybe it won’t be that bad.”

(It is.)

(But thankfully Jordan takes one for the team and brings up her graffiti to take some of Diane’s fire. Ryan’s able to get one of very few smiles when she reminds Diane that Jordan’s working at the youth center now. Saving lives and what not. Still, nothing is enough for Diane. Ryan holds Sophie’s hand under the table.)

(Sophie doesn’t relax until they’re back at her place. Until they showered away the tension and curled up on the couch with Sophie wrapped around Ryan and a cheesy action movie playing on the TV.

Sophie holds on a little too tight. Sits a little too stiff. And she sniffles during a chase scene, which is really the final straw.

Ryan has to tuck her head under Sophie’s chin to look up at her girlfriend. “It’s her loss, you know? I’m pretty damn amazing, and you? You’re Sophie freaking Moore, and anyone who chooses not to love you is making the worst mistake of their life.”

Sophie sniffles again. “What if she never comes around?”

“Then you still have me, and Jordan, and Mary and Luke. You can even have Alice if you’re that desperate for a high head count. But you don’t need her to be happy.” Ryan wiggles out of the hold to sit up on her own. “And whenever you start worrying about what your mom thinks, just remember what the great poets once said.”

Sophie’s eyes narrow, and Ryan does her best to keep a serious look on her face.

“‘All I need in this life of sin—’” Sophie shoves Ryan away from her, and Ryan uses all of her strength to pull Sophie into her arms and sing right into her face, “‘is me and my girlfriend.’ Come on, baby, you know it.”

Sophie sings back, “‘It’s me and my girlfriend.’”

“See.” Ryan pecks Sophie on the lips. “That simple. Trust me.”

Sophie says, “I always do.”)

a/n: if only it were actually that sample. but hey, we can hope, and we can keep trying, you know?

so, what'd you think? any other random questions y'all would like answered? any prompts?

#batwoman #ryan x sophie #wildmoore #ryan wilder #sophie moore #mine #batwoman fic #headcanon #ship meme #luke and mary are also here because I love them #luke fox #mary hamilton #luke fox x mary hamilton

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okskz · 4 years

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A New Mia.

Mia + Elsy

elsy knows mia is going through a tough time with her break up, so elsy helps her through it by getting mia a little change up.

hope you guys enjoy! please feel free to leave some feedback because it is always appreciated!

[9th Member of Stray Kids]

Mia was laying down. face up as she scrolled through tik tok. She was only on the app to distract herself after going through her photos. It was a stupid idea she did, making her own self upset when seeing all the photos she had of her and Changbin.

And now, the girl didn’t even want to get out of bed. Although she knew she had to, knowing she had rehearsals with Elsy soon. But Mia just wanted to stay in bed all day, with her break up and lashing out on the boys, Mia definitely wasn’t feeling herself lately.

And now the only person she did talk to was Chan. Even though Minho was the cause of it all, she was still upset with the others for joining Minho and his laughter.

There were three knocks on the door before Elsy opened it. “Good morning.” She smiled. “Ready to go?”

Mia groaned just a little as she rubbed her eyes. It caused Elsy to frown as she looked at the younger girl with concern. “Something wrong?” She questioned.

“I just have a lot going on.” Mia admitted. She sat herself up, sighing as she did so. “And it’s making me not even want to go to rehearsals. I just want to stay in bed forever.”

“Mm.” Elsy pouted. The girl knew everything that was going on in Mia’s life and she knew she wasn’t doing too good. Elsy did applaud her for continuing to go forward even thought she was hurting in the inside. Mia always was great at hiding her feelings. And as Mia’s best friend, Elsy knew she had to help Mia out somehow. And the girl began smiling when a couple of ideas popped into her head. “Let’s cancel rehearsals today.”

“What?”

“I said let’s cancel! We basically know everything now. What is cancelling one day going to hurt? We’ll make plans today.”

“What type of plans?” Mia questioned.

Elsy smirked at the girl as she grabbed a piece of Mia’s hair, twirling it in her fingers. “Ever thought about changing up your hairstyle? Maybe adding a fun color to it?”

“Um, well when we debuted I had some red on the bottom and a little after Miroh I had blonde hair.”

“Hmm.” Elsy smiled which only began scaring Mia. The girl knew anything was possible with her around.

***

Spending more than half the day at the hair salon, Mia was finally done fixing up her hair. The hairstylist turned Mia around in the chair to face the mirror and both her and Elsy as well as the hairstylist stared at Mia’s new hair. Elsy’s mouth dropped as she began smiling, and Mia couldn’t stop looking at herself. It was a big change for Mia but she liked it a lot. “What do you think?” The hairstylist questioned, she too was smiling at the younger girl.

Mia nodded her head as she turned her head side to side, staring at the bright pink color that was now on her hair. It was still black on top, not wanting to ruin her roots but then it transition into hot pink for the rest of her hair down, and the stylist also curled it for her. “I love it so much!” Mia exclaimed, looking at Elsy. The older girl began clapping her hands, reaching over to touch Mia’s hair.

“I love it too! You look super cute and it suits you a lot.” Elsy complimented. “Very different, but a very good different.”

“How much is it going to be?” Mia questioned the stylist but she only laughed, grinning at Elsy.

“Don’t worry about it, your friend over here already paid for it.”

Mia turned to look at Elsy who had a huge grin plastered on her face. The older girl shrugged while continuing to smile. “It’s on me, don’t worry. I just hope you love it and want you to be happy.”

“I am-“

“Good.” Elsy said, grabbing onto Mia’s wrist. “Because we have other things to do.”

“Like what?” Mia questioned Elsy once the two girls were out of the salon. She wondered what else Elsy had up her sleeve.

Elsy looked over at Mia, eyeing her up and down while smiling. “Ever thought of a wardrobe change?”

Mia looked down at herself. She wasn’t much of a fashion person, shoes were really the only thing she admired. “Not really.” Mia replied. “But my style is basically street wear.”

“Hm.” Elsy thought. “Is there any designer brands you own?”

“Uh, I have a Gucci shirt that I bought for myself.” Mia smiled, sounding proud of herself. “But that’s kind of it.” She shrugged.

“Okay, well we’re going shopping. And it’s all on me.”

“No, Elsy I cant let you do that.”

“Oh but you will.” Elsy grinned as she began to drag Mia again until they were at a clothing store. Mia didn’t even know where to begin, almost everything was the complete opposite of what she’s comfortable in wearing. But that didn’t mean she didn’t like it.

“You need a dash of Elsy in your style.” The older girl giggled as she skimmed through the clothing in front of her. “Do you like skirts or dresses?”

Mia nodded. “Yeah, but I’m not a fan of them. I’ll only wear them for special occasions.” She laughed. “Also don’t you remember that black dress you got me?”

“Oh yeah!” Elsy exclaimed. “But that one was kind of simple but cute. Something that fits your style. So how about something like this?” Elsy smiled as she took a black shimmery mini skirt. “This is cute! And you’d look great in it.”

“I don’t know-��

“We’re taking it.” Elsy interrupted.

“Wait! What about this one?” Mia suggested, taking out a black leather mini skirt.

Elsy only smiled, taking the skirt from Mia and put it against the other skirt. Mia got the signal that Elsy was going to get both of them for her.

Elsy continued to pick out clothes for Mia even the ones the younger girl disagreed on. Elsy knew Mia was definitely someone who could pull anything off without even knowing.

Mia had her hands full with nothing but shopping bags with a whole bunch of different clothing. From shirts to blouses and crop tops that revealed more skin than what Mia was used to. She even had a bunch of new jean shorts as well as new skirts. And of course, Elsy had to buy her some expensive clothing from a whole bunch of top brands. Overall, it was a pretty successful shopping day for the two and they weren’t even done yet.

“You said you like shoes, what kind? Heels?”

Mia was quick to make a face at the thought of heels. She knew how uncomfortable it was wearing them. The only time she ever did wear them was when they were going on red carpets to award shows. Other than that, she only liked wearing boots that had heels on them.

“I take that as a no.” Elsy laughed. “Do you even own a pair?”

“Like two maybe.”

“Well you’re about to own another one.” Elsy smiled.

“Elsy, I love you and all but I think it’s time you stop spending your money on me. Really, thank you but I have so much stuff now. I think this is enough.” Mia slightly smiled.

“Nonsense!” Elsy exclaimed. “You can never have enough of shopping.”

When Elsy turned to look at Mia, she noticed the girl had stopped walking next to her and was staring at a window of another clothing store. Right when Elsy got next to her and noticed what Mia was staring at, the older girl began smiling. “Like what you see?” She questioned. On display was a short,rose gold, shimmery dress that had a slit on the side.

“Yeah, but-“

Mia was cut short again as Elsy dragged her inside the store. She was quick to grab an employee, telling her that Mia wanted to try on the dress on display. And while Mia was in the dressing room, Elsy had found some cute heels to match with the dress.

“Here.” She said, giving Mia the box of heels. “I want to see you wearing these when trying on the dress.”

Mia had no other choice and grabbed the box from Elsy. And when she was fully done, Mia opened the curtain of the dressing room, causing Elsy’s mouth to drop and her eyes widen. “Oh. My. God.” Elsy gasped.

“You look so pretty!” Elsy squealed, causing Mia to become shy. “How do you feel?”

“Well, it’s very bright than what I normally wear.” Mia chuckled. “But I really love this dress. And I actually really like these heels too.” She said, shaking her foot.

Elsy only smiled. “Good, we’re taking all of this!” She said to the employee.

***

Finally arriving back to Elsy’s, the two girls fell back on Mia’s bed, having all of the shopping bags scattered around the floor. “This was fun.” Elsy laughed. “So much better than rehearsals.”

“It was.” Mia agreed. “But I feel bad that you spent all this money on me.”

“Don’t even stress it. I just wanted you to feel special today. I know you’ve been going through some stuff but I hope I helped you a little to take your mind off of it?”

“And I know these stuff won’t really help the heartache you’re going through but like I said, I wanted today to be all about you and of course adding some Elsy in you.” She chuckled, causing Mia to do the same.

“You’re the best, Elsy. Thank you really, for everything. For being my best friend and even sister. And of course for being there for me when I need someone the most.”

“Aw, Mia!” Elsy cooed. “Honestly, you’re going to look so great in these new outfits and this the new hair of yours adds the touch.”

Mia smirked to herself as she was facing the ceiling. “In a couple of days, everyone’s going to see a new Mia.”

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tinderboxofsillyideas · 4 years

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ARTISTS! COMIC DUBBERS! ATTENTION, PLEASE!

I have a story for y'all and this story is not so bright and beautiful. I thought I would not talk about it in public, but I can't leave the situation like this, because it's important. I just have to do that, because I don't want people get in the same situation.

I will talk about you @undertalecomictv. No offence.

One year ago I get a message from David - owner of "Undertale Comic TV” and "Sans Comic TV" on YouTube. He asked me about promotion and using my videos (animations and memes) on his channels. I had a terrible headache at that day and this offer was a little bit strange to me. I asked to clarify how it supposed to work and for some reasons I said "yes" at the end. That was a dumb decision, because I didn't realize what I'll get and why I even said yes. But I don't have any regrets, because I can say a lot of things now. This how our first dialogue looked like:

I have to mention – we DID NOT talk about comic dubs as well, I just made a suggestion like "It will be cool to see comic dubs from you in the future, but that's just a thoughts". We did not talk about any agreement, I just said it and that's all. After half of the year, I got a message with dub of one of my Kustard comics. I was happy to see it, because this dub was very cool and this was the first time when somebody made a dub for me. I was too happy and did not see what I missed. I just… enjoyed. They leaved a links on me in the description and in the video too, so that was totally fine and I shared this dub with my followers in both communities – foreign and Russian.

All was good, I got a couple of more dubs, and I loved them really much, but in one day I saw something what made me feel like "???". I saw a video on SCTV with a frame from my animation (Bloom meme). It was used as a thumbnail, with erased reply from echo flowers. This video contained comic of my friend @nsfwgarbagedump

The most important – there was a several pages what me and @hakkids has colored. In this video was no credits in description. Only nicknames of Crude and me (Hakki was not even included but we worked together on coloring and we're still making colors for the rest of the pages). I was confused, because frame from animation was cropped out of my video (I did not post this pic anywhere, I remember that). When I gave a permission to use my videos I did not think they will be used in this way. That's just not nice.

I saw a part two and there was my art again, but none of my content in the video. There was rest of b&w pages and I can't understand why my art was used for the thumbnail if there's none of my stuff in the video. They could use one of the pages or frames from comic for a thumbnail, but they used my stuff because it looks good? That's a clickbait, you know?

Crude had a conversation with them and after that they deleted their comic, both of the parts. I was sad about the fact they did not leave the credits on us like LINKS, because some of the people having a problems with searching artists, and that would be better to leave the links, not only nicknames:

I was too disappointed and had a thought about ask them to stop making dubs on my stuff. I messaged them with this offer, even if I loved their dubs before – there was no way out. I got an answer like this:

After that, I was confused a bit more. They made a dub of our modified Kustard before in one of the compilations. I was happy to see that at first, but Hakki told me one thing, which turned all the tables. They messed up with voices and some specific details, includes the fact they DID NOT asked about permission from Hakki about using Ras (modified Red) in the dubs. Yes, those comics was made by me, but Ras belongs to Hakki and I got a permission to use him in my stories, because hell – we are friends, so we allowed to use our boys in our comics.

If somebody giving you a permission to make comic dubs (but they did not get a permission from me on this either if we look at the situation a bit closer) you have to ask again before using Fan-Characters/Original Characters in dubs. They can have some specific differences and it's always better to ask. Much better to send SAMPLES too, because some people can be picky. If you don't want to make all those "difficult" stuff – just do not touch FC's and OC's. And ask ALL the artists if you want to make dubs with two (or more) characters which belongs to different people. The first one can say "yes, sure!" and the second one can be against it. Respect people! Ask them about their characters!

I asked to delete all the videos with our modified Kustard (or at least cut out the fragments with them), and when I told this was not only my desire, I got a message which made me super confused and angry at the same time. I got an excuse like "we worked so hard, give our permission to keep your videos". I was triggered about it, because I'm already told about the reasons why I asked to delete those videos.

I told about that again and said about I worked hard too, because that's true. Artists spend a lot of time when they working on one picture, so that's no need to talk about making comics or animations. So I had to ask to delete the modified Kustard, OR I'll ask to delete ALL my stuff from the channels. If they'll refuse – I'll strike them down. You can see my full answer below:

And who knows what I will get on my simple ask to delete only modifications…

I don't know, maybe I'm cruel piece of garbage or what, but I HATE when people use excuses like family and stuff. That's super lame and I can explain why I think in that way. You know, all of us have families, somebody has children too but people didn't use this fact as an excuse to make shit and break the rules. If you have a sweetheart and babies – how can you use them like this? It looks like you're only worrying about yourself, and did not want to pay attention to feeling of the artists which works you're using in dubs. I can understand all those things, because I have a family too, just like other artists do. I even have some ill people in my family and we have to pay big amounts to help them, plus bills, buying food, etc. BUT! I DID NOT use all this stuff for this kind of situations! I just continue to work and that's all!

That's the same situation like ask the artist to make you an art for free because you're poor little creature and you have no money to pay for your bills, clothes, etc. NOBODY have to work for free and nobody have to break the low to get something what they want! That's an awful shit, don't do that!

About monetization, huh? You know I don't like liars, I disrespect them, but I disrespect the greedy ones liars even more. My videos was monetized on those channels and NOBODY WARNED ME ABOUT THAT. I just got an excuse like "I asked some artists in the past and they was okay with monetization". Well duh? If one person said "yes" that doesn't mean you can just being a sly shit and don't ask people about monetization their content ever again. You HAVE TO ask artists about that! Somebody can be against it! This content is NOT YOURS, so that's terrible to make moneys on works of artists who probably get NOTHING for their works. Nothing but love and appreciation, and sometimes they even doesn't have this too. And that's sad.

I can understand you have to pay dubbers for their voices and work, David, but you had to ask about monetization anyway. That's just not cool. I don't know about people in your crew and I don't know are they even know about that, but I'm really disappointed. I can say thanks to Jordan Woollen for his voice. Btw – he's good in voice acting and I can be grateful to him for those minutes of happiness. I don’t think that is his fault.

If keeping of these channels is too hard for you – maybe you should find something what will fits you more? Something where you will not need to lie to people or making something like this. I dunno, maybe you can be a better person? Or you just like to make people feel bad or thinks about they're cruel with you… Who knows? You told my stuff has been deleted from your channels, but you didn't. Some of the videos are hidden, and I can see that because I have links. So why are you lying to me again? Just delete them, I'll not allow to bring them back. Because I can't trust you now.

Limited is not the same thing as deleted, my friend.

That was heartbreaking. I LOVED those dubs with all my soul and I couldn't even imagine all will end like this. I just disappointed and this story was broke me on a couple of days. But after I recovered myself, I decided to make this post. I just can't hold it in my soul anymore…

If I got a true apology with something like "yes, I understand how hard to be an artist and how much strength you spent to make arts and comics, so I'm sorry. It was my mistake that I did not tell you" maybe I could allow you to continue to make dubs. But you started to feed me with excuses about how hard that was for you. You totally forgot about my feelings. I don't have any hate to you, David. And I don't call people to hate you for what you've done. I just told them my story. Maybe you lied some of them as you done with me, and now they will decide what to do by themselves. But think about it and stop acting like this to people. Please.

Dear voice actors, I begging you – please, ask permissions before making dubs, talk with artists about all the issues. Ask them about monetization, about their characters, credits, etc. Please, respect their feelings and make a good things! I love dubs and I'm always want to support good dubbers, so don't play with feelings of people. We're doing are best to make a cool stories which you could dub. And some of us ready to pay you for this. Because you’re bring some good vibes with your dubs when you making them with love and desire.

Dear artists – be careful with some kind of offers. Talk with dubbers and ask them about everything. Do not be shy to make it, and if you don't like something – tell them about it before it's too late. Don't be such a softie like I was.

Guys, do not be a dicks, respect each other and try to become better on the next year. Artists, comic dubbers – y'all great while you respect the work of each other. We all have hard work, so be good people and don't lie to anybody. Thank you for your attention, Marry Chrysler and happy holidays!

#long post #signal boost #text post

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neurodivergentnecessity · 3 years

Text

The big brother AU was made by @petrichormeraki and Djali was made by @siren07tucker

Ok so last time I showed you guys what I thought Grumbot, Juni, and Tizzy would look over time. In that post I mentioned that I was in the process of drawing and writing the rest of the kids and because it's almost Christmas for me I decided to post this so let's get going with Djali! Merry Christmas

Djali as we all know had a very rocky childhood because they lived on a server where mob hybrids were heavily discriminated against. It left them living on the streets fending for themselves and constantly being beaten and abused by others. That changed when Doc and Xisuma were visiting the server, the two immediately adopted Djali as their own and took them to Hermitcraft. Doc mostly took care of Djali; he helped them learn how to defend themselves properly and to respect The G.O.A.T. Djali was overall closer to him. Every once and a while they would visit Xisuma and during that time showed an interest in coding and being an Admin. So Xisuma taught Djali how to code and he also gave them free therapy sessions to go with. As they became older they started becoming more comfortable with people around them. They even started making some friends, some of them being Grumbot and Juni due to being closer in age, and they became best friends with Aislin despite their age difference. Also due to him hanging out with Aislin a lot they’ve also become close to his sisters, although not super close. As a young adult Djali is a well known activist for the mob hybrids equality movement. They are also an Admin of a server that accommodates, helps, and shields mob hybrids. They are still close to Aislin despite the complications with living on two different servers, often sending letters to each other asking how the other is.

Next up is Aslin he was born after an incident regarding a magical potion and some Vex intervention. After some panicking on Bdubs’ part he decided to keep Aslin a secret for a bit until he was caught after coming clean Bdubs decided to still keep it a secret that Scar was the other parent. Unfortunately Scar caught on and after some shenanigans the two ended up together and raising Aislin. As a toddler Aslin became very interested in almost everything, especially plants, whenever he saw one he would become very quiet and simply look at it. His fascination with plants didn’t stop there; he had an odd habit of talking to them the weirdest thing, the plants seemed to be listening and responding to him. It unnerved Bdubs a bit until Scar explained that it was normal for a young magic user to communicate with specific items, in Aslin’s case plants. He also loved whether unintentional or not was annoying his older sisters. It was hilarious to him when they would let out an annoyed scream at his antics. As a child he calmed down a bit and wasn’t as obsessed with plants as before, he also annoyed his sisters a bit less mostly because he had become best friends with Djali and spent a lot of time playing with them. Unfortunately for him his sisters decided to take advantage of Aislin stopping annoying them and decided to get some revenge. So whenever Aislin would be hanging out with Djali they would strike butting into the conversation, stealing something of his, and generally being annoying, this would always cause Aislin to stomp off and tell on them. As a teenager nobody knows what happened to Aislin including himself. Djali also unfortunately left to become the Admin for a new server they had created, the two stayed in touch though. Also during this time he became obsessed with the band Swords N’ Arrows. He loved how cool they were as well as their music and style. Soon as if a switch was flipped inside of him and he adopted Swords N’ Arrows’ “cool” look and attitude, his sisters found his transformation hilarious. Once a young adult Aislin’s personality seemingly did a full 180 and changed from his old “emo” one, and to quote him “No, I don’t want to talk about it... Atalanta put the photo down. No! Come back! They don’t need to see it!” He’s also been practicing his plant magic and is getting pretty good at controlling it. He's had no incidents in 5 “oops” 0 days. Also with the ability to travel he’s been able to visit Djali every so often which is fun for the both of them.

Now next is the twins which, quick disclaimer up until teen hood their stories will be very similar because up until then they were basically attached at the hip, so yeah. Let’s start with Atalanta after Scar accidentally cut himself on two of his magical crystals Atalanta and her sister were born several weeks later. Scar decided to take some time off from being the mayor to get a handle on being a parent, that is until he was informed of a very important meeting that he couldn’t skip so with not many options Scar decided to bring his daughters to the meeting. Nothing got done and it would have been better if he had not come. Many people were very surprised to find out that Scar was a papa and even more surprised to see how competent he was with caring for them seeing as he wasn’t the best at caring for himself. As a toddler Atalanta was fairly social and enjoyed taking to others, but she could be a bit shy at times. She and her sister loved playing with others one of their favorite people to play with was Tizzy and she liked playing with them as well. Also during this time they got a brother, Aislin after Scar and Bdubs started dating. The two loved him and would try to play with them despite not fully understanding that he was a baby and couldn’t really do much. Childhood was exciting for multiple reasons, one of them being that she and her sister got to be the flower girls at Scar and Bdub’s wedding. They were also excited to keep Aislin permanently. Of course that excitement quickly turned into annoyance when he discovered that he loved pestering and annoying his sisters. Atalanta still loved him but could he be just a little more quiet. She also started tapping into her stamina ability and relished in the fact that she could beat anyone in a race just by using it slightly. In her teen years she became a bit rebellious one of her acts of rebellion included getting a nose ring. Which backfired slightly due to Scar saying he was happy that she was starting to express herself. She also started spending less time with her sister which wasn’t a bad thing they just had different interests. Of course they weren’t completely separate; they had decided to take their revenge on Aslin for annoying him for so long by interrupting his play time with his friend, Djali, who Fortuna seemed to enjoy being around. As a young adult she got to witness Aislin transform himself into a emo wreck which she found absolutely hilarious and took as many pictures as possible to later use to embarrass him. She also added to the nose ring she got as a teenager with a piercing to her bottom lip and some on her upper ears. She also found her papa’s old jacket and totally didn’t steal and cut it to make a cropped jacket. Once she was old enough to join MCC she absolutely did and started a bit of rivalry with Tizzy. It wasn’t that intense due to Tizzy being better at hand to hand situations then her and Atalanta being better at speed and agility situations then Tizzy.

Last but certainly not least is Fortuna after Scar accidentally cut himself on two of his magical crystals Fortuna and her sister were born several weeks later. Scar decided to take some time off from being the mayor to get a handle on being a parent, that is until he was informed of a very important meeting that he couldn’t skip so with not many options Scar decided to bring his daughters to the meeting. Many people were very surprised to find out that Scar was a papa and even more surprised to see how competent he was with caring for them seeing as he wasn’t the best at caring for himself. Fortuna was a bit more reserved than her sister but she still enjoyed talking to others. She and her sister loved playing with others one of their favorite people to play with was Tizzy and she liked playing with them as well. Also during this time they got a brother, Aislin after Papa and Bdubs started dating. The two loved him and would try to play with him despite not fully understanding that he was a baby and couldn’t really do much. Childhood was exciting for multiple reasons, one of them being that she and her sister got to be the flower girls at Papa and Bdub’s wedding. They were also excited to keep Aislin permanently. Of course that excitement quickly turned into annoyance when he discovered that he loved pestering and annoying his sisters. She would still play with him though. As a teenager Fortuna loved whenever Aislin would hang out with Djali for two reasons one that meant that she and her sister could go over there and annoy Aislin the other was she developed a huge crush on Djali and loved being around them. Besides annoying Aislin the sisters didn’t really hang out a lot, but she did accompany her sister when she got her nose ring, there was a lot of... no crying. During this time she also started experimenting with her luck ability trying to figure out if she could direct it towards anyone, during her experiments she noticed that her luck ability was directly linked to her mood, good mood good luck, bad mood bad luck. As a young adult Fortuna started experimenting with the relationship with magic and science. In her studies she’s discovered that though magic to others is just science they have yet to understand it’s actually it’s own individual thing. Magic as she has found it has a sort of sentience to it that can be channeled through different beings, some beings are bound to a certain type of magic while others can expand and grow upon it. She has also increased her own magical abilities and can now sense other peoples magical aura, which has made her studies much easier.

#my art #my artwork #big brother au #atlanta #fortuna #djali #aislin

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barbasbodaciousbeard · 3 years

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IF You Love Someone, Let Them Go: Part 5

Summary: Since starting with SVU, Sonny hadn’t kept much terribly close to the chest. The squad knew about his family, growing up on Staten Island, the classes at Fordam. What was hidden was why he didn’t date. Sonny Carisi was also separated from his childhood sweetheart, a separation neither ever took to divorce. They had the same haunts. They’d grown up neighbors. Their paths crossed every few months, and divorce talks would turn into reminiscing would turn into a night spent together, sometimes sex sometimes just talking until the early morning. It always ended with one of them waking up alone however. How will that change when the squad finds out?

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Original Character,

1 - 2 - 3 - 4

March 2015

“You’ll see me two times in three weeks,” Victoria smiled, wine in hand as she settled in the seat beside Sonny. It was Tommy and Bella’s engagement party, which Gianni was treating as a bridal shower. The whole engagement would only have been three months, and it seemed the two younger Carisis had cost her the months of parties and planning Gina and Teresa had given her. At least Sonny and Victoria had gotten married in a church a year after they eloped. Tommy and Bella would be getting married outdoors, while she was pregnant. Everyone pretended not to notice the slightest bit of a bump, easily confused for weight gain if you didn’t know, when Gianna was around before fussing over Bella the minute she left.

“I’m a lucky bastard.”

“I hope you told your squad.”

“We’re all going out the Saturday before. I’m doing it then.”

“Really pushed it off, huh?” she asked, and he didn’t like the hurt she was trying to hide.

“The cases got heavy during the holidays. And then we busted up a sex ring and I was undercover. That also felt like a weird time. I kinda realized there wasn’t going to be a good one.”

“Yeah. Tommy and Bella inviting them kinda twisted your arm, huh?”

“Yeah. But it’s good. The last step.”

“They all coming?”

“Olivia for sure. I think Rollins and Amaro are coming together, and then honestly? Barba will when he finds out there’s gossip. He’s kind of a dick, but an amazing attorney. I really wanna shadow him sometime, but I’m too green to ask, y’know?”

“Yeah. I’m sure it’ll be nice when the time comes. And I think it’ll make Bella and Tommy happy. If it weren’t for them, it coulda been bad.”

“I got brother brain instead of cop brain, so yeah. I still can’t believe she’s having a baby.”

“It’s wild. And I know you don’t like Tommy, but he’s got a good heart.”

“And got locked up.”

“Everyone has their own problems.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Same deal as Gina’s wedding? No marriage problems talk. Just have fun and be sentimental.”

“Deal. Though if your squad asks, I’m not ignoring it.”

“Fair. But also tell the cute stories.”

“I’ll bring the photo albums.” He laughed, arm settled around her shoulders. When they’d moved out, she’d taken to collecting all the pictures of them and adding them to a photo album. She’d gotten copies of dozens of pictures from his mom, who had always kept them organized by year in boxes. When she left, Victoria took them, and he missed being able to thumb through the pages. There were multiple volumes at this point. The pages got harder to find. She didn’t scrapbook. Instead, she used the pages with four slots each, keeping them up as time went on. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were pictures from Gina’s wedding in the most recent. Maybe there were even pictures of them separate from each other to bridge the gap.

“Please don’t give Rollins and Barba that ammo. They’ll steal the really bad ones.”

“I like the ones from prom the best. Could we look any more 2004?”

“We looked damn good.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not super dated.”

“True. It’s okay. We got the pictures from Gina’s wedding. We don’t look like we’re separated in them.”

“True. You got the dimples on full display.”

“I seen the dresses Bella picked. I know you hate it. You won’t like this one so much.”

“I love it.” He raised a brow at the feigned enthusiasm. “Dom, that pink is gonna be so bad on a pale red head.”

“I like you in pink.”

“You like me in anything.”

“Because you look good in anything. Dark green’s my favorite though.”

“Mine too. Thank God for Gina. I’ll wear that dress again.”

“I’m sure I’ll have to go to some fundraising thing…”

“You asking me to be your date before you even know?”

“You’re always who I ask to be my date.”

“I better be. We’re married.”

“Gettin’ awful territorial, Mrs. Carisi.”

“You put your ring on your hand today.”

“And you put them both on the right finger.”

“It’s almost like we’re making progress.”

“I want to tell you. I’m ready. But not until after the wedding.”

“Why then?”

“In case you don’t look at me all happy anymore.”

“Literally nothing you could tell me could make me not want to work on it. Unless you cheated on me.”

“You’re the first, last, and only.”

“You are too.”

“We oughta stop being sappy. People are coming and we got put with people we don’t know.”

“Gross. It’s like ma is mad at me.”

“I’m just glad she knew better than to try and make us sit apart. I’m sittin’ with my wife.”

“You two aren’t even pretending to be awkward,” Bella teased, leaning to hug Victoria and then her brother. “This nonsense almost over?”

“Butt out,” Sonny warned, but he was still smiling. “Strictly married talk.”

“Two weeks and ya can’t use that excuse.”

“Then it’ll be strictly talks with my wife.”

“Stop, Dom,” Victoria laughed. “You look beautiful, Bella. How you feeling?”

“Kid’s making me tired as hell. I’m excited though. Tommy talks to her every night. It’s been hard, after what that bitch did. But he’s doing so good.”

“I can tell. I’m just glad you’re so happy.”

“I really am, T.”

“You look beautiful. I like this dress a lot.”

“Thanks. I like feeling all bridal.” Sonny was content to watch Bella and Victoria catch up. Over the last year, he’d come to realize every time they talked came around to when Victoria was taking him back. He probably hadn’t helped that any, constantly acting like he didn’t know why she’d gone. Thanksgiving had changed that. He stood up to his mom more, told her he was in therapy, and openly defended Victoria. The last part wasn’t new, but this time it was specific to her decision to leave. He’d told his family in no uncertain terms that, while he thought she should’ve told him earlier instead of letting the hurt fester, he had done something wrong and he was trying to fix that so they could start over. His mom and dad didn’t like that. Generationally, bottling up feelings was more acceptable to them. His sisters, on the other hand, hugged him tight and told him they were proud of him.

Their table filled up quickly as guests arrived, and Sonny was happy to help Victoria keep conversation moving until his parents spoke. That was the plan for tonight. Appetizers, speeches from the bride and groom’s parents, dinner, dessert, and finally dancing and cocktails. It was quickly apparent all the family’s required-but-barely-liked invites went to the table they’d put Victoria and Sonny at, a sure sign Gianna was over dealing with their drama. He was thankful his sister wouldn’t be having assigned seating at the reception for anyone, the bridal party included, though the thought of having Victoria joining his squad at a table made him nervous.

“I thought they’d never go dance,” she said softly against his ear, and Sonny smiled more from the closeness than the sentiment. Damn, it felt good to have her on his team. She wasn’t there day in and out, so these events felt more valuable to him now.

“Right? He’s from dad’s work. Known each other forever. I don’t know why the hell they invited him.” Her hair tickled his cheek as they gossiped, watching the people around the room and nursing their drinks. He decided they didn’t have a heavy case, so he’d tell the squad the next day, that way the giddiness of the evening would still be fresh. When they’d both finished their drinks, he took her hand, pulling her towards the floor.

“I was comfy,” she protested half heartedly before she realized he’d pulled her up for Sinatra. One hand on his shoulder and the other in his, she let him lead the few moves they’d learned in a ballroom class they’d taken. It had only been a couple years into their marriage, and they took it because it made them feel older and less like imposters. Now, all either could really remember was a boxstep, and their frame was terrible. That didn’t matter though. What did matter was Sonny resting his temple against hers to sing softly against her ear. When one swing tune melted into another, she was grateful Gianna had picked the music for this wedding event.

“Looks like we get to dance all slow again,” he teased, giving her a spin before holding her close.

“For someone getting mad when we get along, your ma worked real hard for us to get along.”

“She’s just mad it isn’t like when we were kids. If we fought in middle school, she’d give us a pizza, and we’d be over it.”

“Very true,” she grinned, looking up at him. He looked handsome, and after what came out to two years of seeing him deteriorate, she was grateful he was actually getting back to himself. She wasn’t sure if therapy, the job, or the slow progress they were making was the reason, but he was her Sonny again. He kept his hair cropped, face shaved, and smile present.

“You’re staring,” he teased before tightening his grip to dip her.

“You look good. Like not just handsome. Happy.”

“Thanks,” he smiled softly when he pulled her up again. “I’m learning to process stuff better.”

“That’s good.”

“It sounds messed up, but thank you for leaving. It made me go to therapy. I really wasn’t being good to you, Tor. And I’m sorry for that.”

“I forgive you, Dom. I wasn’t doing a good job talking to you about it. I’m sorry for not pressing until we hit the point of no return.”

“It’s okay,” he said, forehead resting on hers. “I think we’re gonna be okay.”

“Me too.”

“Can we get somebody to take pictures of us?”

“Bella got a photographer, and he has definitely taken several.”

“This camera shy Sonny or detective Sonny noticing?”

“It’s Sonny seeing Gina tell him to.”

“You ever feel like the kids are trying to get us back together?”

“All the time, doll. You know how often Gina or Teresa go after me? Then Bella meddles. But Mia? She’s 17 and bound and determined she’s going to be the one to talk sense into me. And she kind of is. She actually talked to me about therapy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She doesn’t know why but knows my brain shuts down when I try to open up. Heard me tellin Teresa. Said it’s toxic masculinity makin’ me feel like talking about feelings is girly and I gotta get over that if I wanna stay married and making you happy.”

“I ever tell you Mia’s my favorite?”

“She’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

“How long until we can run away and go to a bar?”

“Anybody else left yet?”

“Your cousin Lauren and some of Bella’s friends.”

“What bar you thinking? Because you look too pretty to not take to some classy wine bar.”

“That works for me.”

“Then let’s go tell Bella and Tommy bye.”

“What about Gianna?”

“It’s not her engagement.” Victoria almost felt like they were back in high school and cutting class as they said their goodbyes and got their coats. Why the hell his sister was getting married outdoors in winter was beyond Victoria, but she was grateful for the fact they’d probably end up rained out and inside for the ceremony. Sonny hailed a cab, waving when he saw his mother watching them from a window.

“She’s pissed, Dom.”

“Too bad. Taking you to a nice wine bar. Ordering a cheese board.”

“You’re making it sound like a date.”

“I been shit and ain’t taken you on one in two years. Can it be?”

“I’d like that.” She was nervous, but it had become apparent he was trying. From what he said, in a couple weeks he’d be willing to open up. He was also communicating with her as it was. Maybe treating the next two weeks as a trial run could be good. Ease into the heavy discussion. He’d mentioned being afraid how she’d react. Maybe if she was always there again, he’d realize she wasn’t leaving.

“C’mon, whatcha thinking Tor?”

“Just that I’m happy we’re making progress,” she fibbed, lacing their fingers. He looked to their hands and smiled, squeezing her fingers gently.

“Me too.” Soon enough they were settled at the bar, and Sonny, true to his word, had ordered a bottle of wine and a cheese board. She was turned to face him, legs carefully crossed. He had the leg towards the room on the footrest around the base of her stool. She was boxed in, but it felt reassuring when paired with his hand on her leg.

“So what’s this new squad like?” Sonny had never quite settled in anywhere since he’d become a detective, and he seemed smitten with his spot in Manhattan.

“So Barba is the ADA. Covered him. Liv is Lieutenant. Nobody ever really gave me a shot before. Apparently I can be abrasive.” He threw the hand not on her leg up in mock affront, and she laughed.

“You? Never.”

“I know,” he said, ignoring her sarcasm. “Rollins is cool. She’s been through a lot. She’s from Georgia though. I know you mostly grew up here, but you get that same Southern catty as her. Means it doesn’t get to me, because I know the secret. That she doesn't really mean it. Amaro is cool too. Had some problems too. Come to think of it, I don’t know why I’m acting like they won’t understand or accept our marriage. Fin’s been there longest, other than Lieu.”

“They treating you well?”

“They are. I think I’m finally not just a newbie. Barba gets mean. He’s not southern snarky though, so I think he means it.”

“I’ll fight him.”

“You’d win. He’s got a big mouth, but I don’t think he’d be scrappy.”

“I’m just real proud of you.”

“That means a lot to me, Tor.”

“You worked real hard. I watched that. And you’re going to be an amazing attorney.”

“I think I wanna try for the DA’s office if I pass the bar next year.”

“You’ll pass the bar.”

He rolled his eyes, pouring her another glass of wine as he topped off his own. When the night was over, he walked her to her door, kissing her goodnight and going to his own apartment. Sonny had decided that if it was going to be a date, he’d be a gentleman. Things were still delicate, and he had to leave early when she had a day off. He did text her the next morning to say he’d enjoyed their date, not wanting to have the wedding be the next time they talked. When he arrived at the precinct, he went to Olivia’s door, knocking.

“What’s going on, Carisi?”

“Since the squad’s coming to my sister’s weddin’ now, I felt like I gotta tell everybody I’m married and it’s really confusing.”

“Since you hadn’t mentioned it, I assumed you were getting a divorce.”

“You knew?”

“I did get sent your file when you started here. You know, I do read those.”

“I messed up bad, y’know? She’s a baker, right? And I’ve known her since I was five. Got married when we were eighteen. It was all good until I got to homicide.” Oliva gave him a sympathetic, knowing smile. “What I told you guys? How the women got to me? I was scared if I told her, I’d, like, tarnish her. Make her see all the bad stuff we see. It’s amazing talking to her, Lieu. She never stopped seeing the best in people. And I stopped acting like her husband because I thought just being close to me would transfer all of it. She left me, but we’re in a weird limbo. She’s in the wedding, and we act married when we see each other. This’ll only be the sixth time in a year and a half. But I don’t want her to meet everyone and they’re all like who the hell are you.”

“This job can make that part of life incredibly difficult, Carisi. I feel the same way sometimes about Noah. What if they take him? What if I’m so paranoid he grows up paranoid? Or god forbid he sees pictures? I try to refocus it. I think about how he can make light in those bad times. I don’t know much about her, but I’m guessing she does too?”

“She does.”

“Tell her, Carisi. If she knows something is wrong, she’ll be able to get through it.”

“I’m telling her after the wedding. My therapist said it might make it less stressful. I’ve been afraid she’ll change her mind when I tell her.”

“It’ll work out. It is a smart idea to make sure everyone knows. Barba’s coming with me, so I’ll make sure he knows and keep him in line.”

“Thanks Lieu. For this whole talk, but also giving me a shot.”

Tag List: @cycat4077 @fear-less-write-more

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x oc #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #writing

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Galactica, Chapter 48 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Aiden threw a tantrum when he found out he’d be assisting at the holiday show, and Courtney tried learning more about her best friend’s sister.

This Chapter: The Galactica Holiday Show very nearly goes off without a hitch...but not quite.

***

There were times, in this job, where Courtney couldn’t help but be extremely grateful to Violet for all the binders full of detailed instructions that she’d left behind.

Today was one of those times.

Courtney had never been to a showroom show, had no idea what to expect, and hadn’t even known they existed before Ivy had told her to put it in the calendar.

However, between Violet’s checklists and Ivy’s lead, Courtney felt like she stood half a chance of, at the very least, not fucking up too badlfy.

She’d spent last week pulling together everything they needed for the gift bags, from sponsors as well as Miss Fame’s preferred vendors, and made sure that she’d written everyone attending personalized notes as usual, thanking them on behalf of the company and Miss Fame for coming.

A last-minute change with the look books meant that they weren’t going to be ready until 6:30 am, so she’d been up at the crack of dawn to get to the printers in Queens the second they opened, now arriving at the venue holding the two heavy banker’s boxes, mind racing with everything she still had to do to make sure the day went smoothly for Miss Fame, calculating exactly how much time she needed to have her breakfast and coffee so that it would still be hot when she arrived later.

Courtney was so deep in thought that she almost missed seeing Tatianna, her friend standing at the elevator, bouncing nervously in her tennis shoes.

“Courtney!” Tatianna smiled. She was wearing a pair of tight fitting yoga pants and a white boxy t-shirt, a backpack over her shoulder.

“Tati!” she cried. “Hi! I would hug you but-” She motioned with her chin to the banker’s boxes.

“Here, let me help.” Tati took one of the boxes before she could protest, kissing Courtney on the cheek in the process, her lips silky smooth on Courtney’s skin.

“Thank you! I wasn’t expecting to see you so early.” Courtney was pretty sure that the models all had a 9:30 call time, and it was barely 8.

“I know, but I was all freaked out about the train being on time,” Tati explained, shrugging her shoulder.

“Well, I’m super relieved to see you.” It was true, Tatianna’s familiar face looking even more beautiful than usual. “I’m kind of panicking.”

“Why?”

“There’s just so many things that can go wrong, and I feel like I’m kind of over my head, and-”

The elevator doors finally opened on the showroom floor, revealing the bustling space that was formerly an extremely posh apartment, Ivy speaking to the event coordinator over by the bay windows, a lighting technician climbing a ladder nearby and a contractor stapling the last of the runway carpet to the floor so no one could slip.

Courtney had only been at the showroom once before, briefly, to pick up a suit for Miss Fame, but it had been totally renovated since then, nothing looking familiar, especially not the rows of white chairs set up for their guests.

She spotted the gift bag boxes that her and Ivy packed up and sent over on Friday, all stacked under a large folding table, and hurried over to set her banker’s box down, Tati on her heels.

“Thanks so much for your help. Let me try to find out where-”

“Court!” Ivy called out, walking over to her. “Hi, glad you found the stuff! By the time you’re done setting up the bags, I’ll have the names on all the chairs so it should be easy to put them out. And that door-” she pointed, “leads to the room we’re using for Miss Fame, so check it out and let me know if you’re missing anything.” She then noticed Tati putting down her box, and stuck out her hand. “Hi! I’m Ivy Winters.”

“Ivy, this is my friend Tati. She’s one of the models-”

“Of course! I should have guessed!” Ivy exclaimed, giving Tati her typically charming smile. “Come with me, I’ll show you where you can hang out until they’re ready for you. You’re a bit early, but that’s okay, because that means you get first choice at the craft service table!”

Courtney smiled, happy that Tati was being taken care of, praying that everything today would go smoothly.

***

“Feeling nervous?” Sutan looked over his shoulder as he made his way up the winding staircase to the Galactica showroom apartment.

The showroom was placed in an older building, Fame purchasing it when Galactica had finally started to make actual money, a proper showroom something she refused to pinch pennies on, and since they were still in business, it seemed like it had been the right decision.

“I’m not going to shit my pants if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Ha,” Sutan smiled, Symone two steps behind him, her long hair in a braid. The gorgeous girl was one of his newest hires, her 19th birthday only just ticking around. He still remembered the text he’d gotten from the scout, who had been scoping out some regional teen beauty pageants in the south. He’d seen her picture and instantly instructed the scout to book her a flight to NY. He hadn’t meant to keep her, hadn’t intended to put her on his roster, but he liked her, her fighting spirit lighting up any set she walked on, and so far, even though she’d proven to be a fast learner, he still felt mildly protective of her.

“Not what I asked,” Sutan waited for Symone to catch up, “But good to know.”

They had almost made it to the showroom, Sutan giving her one last look over before they made it to the door. He had picked her up at the modeling apartment she was staying at, making sure she had a light breakfast and plenty of water, her black jeans and white crop top close enough to approved that he hadn’t bothered to ask her to go back inside and change.

Sutan knew it was probably nepotism to make his sister take Symone on so soon after the holiday fittings, but showcases were a good way to test drive newer models, to see if they were ready to do bigger and better things, and Sutan had every hope that Symone could be big.

“Okay, so,” Sutan turned to Symone. “Remember what I taught you. Shoulders back, chin up, back straight. Be polite, be nice, do as you're told.”

Symone nodded, her eyes resting on Sutan’s face, taking in everything he was saying.

“And most importantly.” Sutan smiled. “Have fun.”

***

“Okay, so has everyone found their models?”

Violet smiled as Trixie was standing in the middle of what probably used to be a smaller living room, holding his little clipboard, Alaska, Kim and Amy set up for makeup and hair at the side of the room, Raven already in one of the chairs, a magazine opened on her lap.

“Yes coach!” Maxwell yelled back, the man with Yuhua from tailoring who was making the final adjustments to one of the models. On one hand, it was a little unnecessary for Violet to be there, her holiday gown done and ready to go, the finished styling of the models not a task that fell in her hands at all.

Still, she was happy to be there, happy to get to experience this, but most of all, she was happy she wasn’t Courtney.

Courtney had been running around, trying and almost succeeding in making sure that Fame was in a good mood. They had never had a chance to test run a showroom show, but Violet knew she had left behind a binder with instructions for Courtney, keeping Fame level one of the harder tasks on a day like today, since a large portion of Galactica’s budget depended on impressing the rich and powerful that walked through the door.

Violet had been backstage at several shows, but this was the first time she was really paying attention to the models. She never used to think about what agency models came from, or even the models themself. At Parsons, no one had been able to afford them, and as Fame’s assistant, she only needed to give a single call to have every agency in town jump at the chance.

“Violet!” Violet paused, the sound of her name coming from a voice she didn’t recognize. “It’s so good to see you!”

Violet turned, coming face to face with the angel she remembered from Halloween.

“Oh,”

Tatianna was just as gorgeous as she had been the last time she saw her. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, her brown eyes, golden-tan skin and bright white teeth apparently just how she looked.

“Hello-”

“I didn’t know you worked here!” Tatianna grinned, a cup of coffee in her hand.

“I do-” Violet cursed on the inside, the answer absolutely lame. “I haven’t seen you here before. Who are you with?”

“With?” Tatianna looked confused for a second. “Ah! You mean who I work for? So it’s actually kind of a funny story. I don’t really have a manager yet, but Courtney got someone named Max to take these headshots-”

“Violet!” Violet’s head snapped to attention as Tatianna was cut off, Trixie calling for her. “One of the model management models needs a robe. Can you find one for her?”

“Yes coach.” Violet nodded, thankful for the escape as she made her way towards the rolling clothing racks at the back of the room, Ivy stuffing them full of everything anyone could possibly need, the things toppling over if anyone breathed in the wrong direction.

***

Over the weekend, Aiden had taken the time to look deep within himself, tried to figure out the actual source of his discontent. Maybe it was silly to focus so much anger on Violet, just because she was brand new and already getting more chances and support than he’d gotten over a year. After all, it wasn’t her fault that she seemed to fall ass-backwards into every possible opportunity. Maybe she wasn’t the actual enemy.

Of course, the second he saw her on Monday, he realized that all of that was garbage: he hated her, and her face, and her stupid high ponytail and impractical heels. She was a stuck-up brat who didn’t appreciate how easy she had it. And besides that, her dresses were overworked and reductive.

Aiden had tried to stay calm, had tried to do what he was supposed to, which was assist and support.

Holiday was a smaller collection, which Aiden knew because he had been at Galactica for forever, unlike Violet, so there wasn’t that much to do, tailoring only sending them fully finished garments which didn’t always happen during the mad dashes that were fashion weeks.

Aiden had helped Kiara, and had even taken a trip downstairs to get a box of shoes, but he had quickly faded to the back of the room, standing amongst the racks with a cup of coffee, watching everyone else work.

He heard her before he saw her, Violet’s heels clacking on the floor as she made her way towards the racks with her stupid little scissors, the gold glinting in the light. She was probably going to go over the final check of the garments, snipping any and all loose threads, once again acting like she was better than everyone else.

Aiden was about to say something, but Violet didn’t notice him, didn’t even see him as she walked up, didn’t acknowledge his existence.

And that was the final straw.

It was an impulse. A whim. A passing thought. After a glance around the room to make sure nobody was watching, he did it--shoved the rack as hard as he could, causing both Violet and the rack to crash to the ground, Aiden not hearing the sickening crunch of Violet’s foot that got caught on the bar.

***

[So, any takers on when her majesty will lose her shit today?] Sutan smiled at his twin over the rim of his glass of mimosa. They were standing on the outskirts of the showroom, Ivy walking from white chair to white chair as she put showcards down, a big box under her arm. The showroom was set up in the classic style, a black carpet in the middle of the rows with several smaller circles on the corners so the models had time to twirl and really show off their garments.

He had tried to catch a glimpse of Violet when he had dropped off Symone, but he hadn’t been able to spot her, Raven chatting his ear off before he had made his retreat to go look for his twin.

[Don’t even joke about that asshole.] Raja smirked, her arms crossed, her own glass about half empty. She was looking absolutely stunning in one of her suits, her long hair up in a high ponytail, jewels hanging from her ears. [Also, I think we need a new nickname. Fame is catching on to majesty.]

[Ha,] Sutan snorted. He loved being able to speak Indonesian with his sisters, the language like their own little secret, the perfect way to gossip without being discovered. [We could workshop the upcoming storm?]

Raja laughed, just about to open her mouth, when they both heard a loud crash.

[What was that?] Raja turned around, Fame’s little assistant rushing by them as she ran backstage.

[It sounded like something falling?] Sutan hadn’t heard a scream, and even though he could clearly pick out commotion backstage, he couldn’t make out the sound of anyone crying. [I’ll go check.]

Sutan drowned his glass, giving his sister a smile before he started walking, hoping that it wasn’t anyone from Elite who had fucked up.

***

“Is everyone okay?!”

Courtney could feel her heart in her throat as she ran into the backstage area. She had been at the front, practically dropping the box she was holding the minute she heard the crash.

Several racks at the back of the room were toppled over, clothes everywhere in a gigantic mess. Courtney ran over, a circle of people blocking her way.

“Everyone!” Courtney heard Trixie, a surprising note of authority in his usually gentle voice. “Back off!”

They all did, Courtney now able to press her way forwards, forcing her body past Max, when she heard the last name she had expected.

“Violet.” Courtney made her way towards the front of the row, and there she was. “Violet. Are you okay?”

Trixie had a hand on Violet’s knee, and Courtney had never seen her look like this. There were tear stains on Violet’s cheeks, her normally perfect appearance frazzled and broken.

“Oh my god,” Courtney threw herself forward, scrambling to get on the floor next to Violet, her only thought being near her friend. “Violet, are you-”

“Courtney-” Violet looked at her, her brown eyes practically black, her mascara smudge. “My foot, I can’t- It got caught-”

Courtney turned her attention to Violet’s foot, easily telling which one it was since her shoe was strawn to the side.

“This one?”

Violet nodded. A bruise was already beginning to form, visible through her sheer stockings, her skirt around her knees.

“Kandy-” Courtney searched the group for the design assistant, finding her watching the scene with frightened eyes. “Go to the bar and ask for a bag of ice.”

“Okay!”

“Violet!”

Courtney turned to see Raja’s brother racing in, coming directly towards them. All she could remember was how, months ago in Fame’s office, he’d made Violet cry and forced her to leave -- and Courtney was in no mood to deal with some macho bullshit when there was a medical emergency.

“Don’t look at me!” Violet held a hand up in front of her face, clearly trying to shield herself from him.

“Lovely eyes-”

“Mr. Amrull.” Courtney tried to step between them, to help her friend, everything in her burning to protect Violet. “Please stay back, we’re trying not to-”

“That’s my fucking girlfriend!” Sutan exclaimed, ignoring Courtney completely and rushing to Violet’s side, crouching down by her head. “Violet. Please-”

Courtney opened her mouth to argue, but when she saw Violet reach toward him, Sutan grabbing her hand, Courtney realized that maybe his presence would be comforting to her, in spite of the bad taste he’d left in Courtney’s own mouth.

“Vi…” Courtney said gently, still kneeling at Violet’s feet. It was too early to see if there was any swelling. “Can you put any weight on it?”

Violet tested it, wincing deeply and then shaking her head no. “I’m sorry-” Violet’s voice broke, sounding almost embarrassed.

“Okay,” Courtney swallowed, trying to stay calm, “I think we need to call for an ambulance.”

“No! No no.” Violet exclaimed, holding up the hand that wasn’t clasped in Sutan’s. “I don’t need an ambulance. I’ll just ice it and take a cab after the show-”

“After the show?!” Courtney almost wanted to hit the other woman. “Violet, you are not staying here when you’re hurt!”

“I have to do my job.”

“Lovely eyes-” Sutan tried to cut in, the panic in Violet’s voice rising.

“I made a huge mess and-” Violet reached for her throat, her fingers scratching her neck. “I can’t just-”

“Violet.” Trixie cut in, Courtney genuinely forgetting that he was still there, his tone leaving no room for arguments. “We’ll take care of this. All I want is for you to be okay. Kandy is calling an ambulance for you and-”

“No, please-” Red splotches had shown up on Violet’s cheeks. “No ambulance, I can’t afford that, I’ll-”

“How are you even going to get yourself downstairs to a cab?” Courtney sighed. She’d never been able to get used to the fact of how expensive everything related to healthcare was here, how people had to worry about money when they were lying on the ground with a possible broken bone. “You can’t go to the hospital on your own-”

“I’ll take her,” Sutan said gently, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, and Courtney smiled slightly. Maybe she’d misjudged him.

“But what about your-” Violet looked up at Sutan, the man taking most of her weight.

“That’s not important. I’m coming with you, even if I have to carry you out of here.”

“Please,” Violet snorted, her panic forgotten for a moment as she smiled. “Don’t be ridiculous,”

Just then, Kandy rushed back in with the ice, and so Courtney decided to give up the fight, helping to find Violet’s bag and coat, instructing Kandy to take them down the service elevator, knowing that Miss Fame would be furious if they interrupted the party, even for an emergency.

***

Violet couldn’t remember ever feeling this embarrassed in her life. She was leaning against Sutan who had said a few words to Raven before taking off, the man supporting her like it was the most natural thing in the world as they entered the service elevator.

Violet had never been more grateful for how overprepared she was, the pair of foldable ballet flats she always kept in her bag almost making it bearable to move. She had no idea how she’d face her coworkers when returning to work, thick shame curled up in her belly, the pain in her foot the only reason she hadn’t fought harder to redirect the attention, everyone staring at her without a doubt showing up in her nightmares.

Violet had no idea how the entire accident had even happened. One minute, she’d been ready to do the final check Trixie had asked of her, completely in her own world, the next, several racks had taken her down.

The only explanation Violet could come up with was that she must have accidentally kicked the rack, that her foot had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, that this was her fault.

Violet didn’t know if her dress would be okay, if her coworkers could salvage the mess she had made, but she hoped that she hadn’t ruined anything, and that she still had a chance to keep her job.

***

Bianca strolled into the Galactica showroom, impressed by the renovation that had apparently taken place since she was last inside. At least one wall had been knocked down, opening up the space and allowing the light to pour in through the bay windows, and all the furniture was brand new, what appeared to be lovingly restored antiques. She looked around, finally spotting the bar and walking over. It was only halfway through the workday, but since it was a holiday week, she figured it was fine to indulge.

As she waited for the world’s slowest bartender to make her cocktail, she turned around again, surveying the room. Most of the guests were high-end buyers, socialites, people known for spending big bucks on couture. Bianca knew a few in passing, socially, but this really wasn’t her crowd. She sighed, annoyed, wishing she’d just asked for a glass of wine.

Just then, there was a stir in the room as Miss Fame appeared, making her way graciously through the crowd and finally greeting Bianca with a delighted smile.

“Bianca! Darling!” Fame was a vision in white, the creamy fabric hugging her hips, the short cape sleeves and the knee length her signature silhouette, gold glittering from her fingers and ears. “So glad you could make it!”

“Of course, blondie, I wouldn’t miss it!” Bianca gave her friend a couple of air kisses and a hug, careful not to crease her clothing. “So, will I be impressed?”

“It’s my most fervent hope,” Fame said, sounding so drily sincere that Bianca couldn’t help but laugh.

“How’s your jaw?”

“My jaw?” Fame raised a perfect eyebrow.

“You know, days like this...it must really ache from sucking all this metaphorical dick.” Bianca gestured towards the clientele around the room, then turned slightly to pick up the cocktail that was finally ready for her.

“Ugh, really Bianca,” Fame scolded, nose wrinkled distastefully, but she couldn’t keep up the act, soon letting a smile pull at her mouth, giving Bianca’s arm an affectionate squeeze.

It was then when Bianca noticed a petite blonde hovering timidly by Fame’s shoulder, shifting from foot to foot. Courtney was obviously trying to get to her boss, but afraid to interrupt.

She looked absolutely adorable--a short, classic black A-line dress with a starched white Peter Pan collar, hair held off her beautiful face with a narrow black headband, clipboard in hand like a dutiful little assistant. Bianca caught her eye, dimples appearing in her cheeks as she smiled.

“Hi Courtney.”

“Hi.” Courtney returned her smile as she stepped closer. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, I’m-”

“It’s okay, do your thing. Nice shoes.” Bianca gestured to her Mary Jane style Gucci heels, knowing that they were probably procured second-hand and even then, probably a prized possession to someone on Courtney’s salary. The delighted expression on Courtney’s face at the compliment confirmed that she was right, a smile that made her glow from the inside.

“Bianca,” Fame said. “How on earth do you know my assistant?” Her face was still smiling, but with slightly gritted teeth now, her eyes telling a clear story.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Bianca winked at Courtney, whose cheeks began to turn a charming shade of pink.

Fame turned her head and flashed Courtney a dangerous look, causing her to stammer out, “Oh um, I’m just… Bianca’s sister is my best friend, Miss,” cheeks reddening even more.

Letting out a mildly terrifying laugh, Fame responded, “How very delightful! What a small world we live in. Courtney dear, is everything alright backstage? On track?”

“Oh yes! That’s what I came to tell you. The situation has been handled and they’ll be ready to go in twenty minutes as planned.”

“Good.” Fame turned back to Bianca, dismissing Courtney with a little wave and, “That’s all.”

Courtney nodded, taking the signal and hurrying away. Bianca watched her go, and Fame watched Bianca, her eyes narrowing.

“Bianca Del Rio…”

“What?” Bianca turned back to Fame, batting her thick black eyelashes innocently.

“Do not. Even. Think about it!”

“Come on, I’m only human…” Bianca flashed a dimpled grin.

“I am serious. Leave her alone. Or I will end you.”

“Ooh, I’m so scared! You gonna nag me to death?”

“Bianca…” Fame’s eyes narrowed again. “I am telling you. Do not. Especially not this week when I already have my in-laws to deal with, and-”

“Alright, alright. I’ll wait until next week.”

“Bianca!” she huffed, and Bianca let out a loud cackle at her enraged expression.

“Would you calm down? Angel face over there is straight.”

Fame shook her head. “Yes well…So’s spaghetti until you get it wet. ”

Bianca laughed again, raising her class. “Cheers to that, blondie!”

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #tatianna x violet #vitan #bitney #courtney act #tatianna #raja gemini #symone #violet chachki #trixie mattel #aiden zhane #bianca del rio #miss fame #lesbian au #m/f au #fashion au

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parkersharthook · 4 years

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Fashion Headcanon

the fashion hc that no one asked for... (think college age)

Aang

Aang is all about comfort mixed with practicality and a hint of fashion/trendiness

Most days you’ll find him in athletic shorts or sweatpants in neutral tones like gray or white, with a plain tee

He also lives in his yellow high tops that are more dirt than yellow at this point. They’re super worn in and comfortable for him now, but it’s unusual to see him without them

But when he needs to dress up for events or dates or whatever, he likes to look nice but still casual

His idea of dressing up would be khaki pants (maybe joggers for casual dates) with a white button down/polo

One time he showed up to an event in his yellow converse so Katara got him some nice brown dress boots so he has /options/

You’ll also never find him in any cool tones, he loves warm colors (yellows, oranges, reds)

He’s overall a pretty happy and chill guy and that reflects in his clothing but he still has a grasp on what is acceptable in certain situations and definitely dresses appropriately

For the most part he just looks really snuggly and soft

Katara

Katara also really values comfort but she takes a little more pride in her appearance

For everyday wear she’ll usually wear jeans of some kind (usually distressed and mom style) but she’ll still look put together

If she’s wearing her blue jeans, she’ll pair them with a loose band tee that’s either cropped, tied in the front, or tucked in precisely (she loves showing the waist of her pants)

If she’s wearing black/white jeans, she’ll wear a blue shirt. She prefers navy and darker tones of blue but she has a quite a few in pastel as well

Sometimes the shirts are just tshirts, but sometimes they’re a little tighter and trendier to help her dress up the outfit

For the most part she lives in her doc martens, and she finds them to be both practical and adorable

However for fancier events she pops off

She’ll dress up in satin dresses that are navy and fall just below her knee or will wear white corduroy skirts with cute flowy tops

She has platform sneakers for when it’s not too fancy but she also has a lot of heels and sandals in neutral colors

Even though Katara does like to look good, because it makes her feel good, she isn’t too overly worried about her appearance

However in most people’s eyes, she never looks bad and walks with an effortless beauty that makes all her outfits look great

Sokka

Sokka lives for practical clothing

He wears basketball shorts almost every day (unless it’s cold and then he wears sweatpants) with a hoodie or plain tee

While he’s not out naked, he definitely doesn’t really put that much effort into his day to day look

But honestly he doesn’t really need to because Sokka is a hottie who wows everyone he meets

But he also works out a lot and works with his hands, so practical clothing is generally the only thing he thinks is appropriate

When he’s working on something a little more hands on, he’ll wear denim to protect his skin and he doesn’t really care if they get ruined, because they’re his work pants

However when he dresses up… he is a stunner

He’ll wear form fitting pants that show off his toned thighs and butt. They’ll usually be either dark blue or black dress pants

He pairs that with a usually white (occasionally a lighter blue or black) dress shirt that is typically rolled up to his elbows but that’s good because his forearms

Despite the fact that he usually wears sneakers or boots every day, his shoe collection is pretty impressive because he’s a prepared man. So he wears nicer polo shoes or low cut brown boots to pull together the look

People never really expect Sokka to look as fine as he does at those events, because they’re used to seeing him very casual and comfy

But even though people think Sokka doesn’t care about his appearance, he does… he just doesn’t like to waste time on work/school days when he could sleep a little more

But when he can actually get dressed up, he kinda lives for it

For the most part, Sokka dresses how he pleases and doesn’t let others tell him what to do with himself

But he’s comfortable in his style and in his skin which makes him confident

Toph

Toph grew up with overbearing parents who dictated how she dressed, and so when she began to live on her own she really wanted to explore other styles and options

For a while she experimented with casual fancy styles like sundresses and skirts and such. And honestly she really likes them and thinks they’re cute, but not for day to day

She then evolved into more of a skater, tomboy look which she really rocks

She has a wide range of jean, khaki, and athletic shorts that she pairs with simple shirts

Her shirts are usually band tees, or plain colors and she really likes earth tones

She has likes oversized outerwear, like big flannels, hoodies, or bombers that kind of swallow her frame

She prefers shorts but when she wears pants, it’s usually sweatpants or yoga pants. She doesn’t like her bottoms to be too tight and restricting because she likes to have full range of motion, so if they’re tight they have to be stretchy

Also she kicks the bottom of all her shoes out so she can see (yes bending exists here and she’s blind bc I say so), but she mainly wears canvas sneakers like vans or low converses

Because she experimented early on with her outfits, when she has to dress up she really likes casual sundresses

Sometimes she’ll wear a jean skirt, but none of her dresses or skirts will be tight

She’s not necessarily trying to hid her body/curves but she’s just so much more comfortable in loose/flowy clothing and it still looks really good on her

Even at fancier events, she’ll wear sneakers because sandals don’t really work without bottoms and heels are a fat no

She has “nicer” sneakers that she keeps clean for those events but for the most part she has an excuse and a comeback to anyone who tries to diss her shoes

Like Sokka, she’s pretty comfortable in her clothing and doesn’t put too much effort into it

However, because of all the years she spent with her parents where she had zero options, it isn’t uncommon to see Toph trying the newest trends as soon as they come out, to see if she vibes with them or not

Zuko

Like Toph, Zuko was also forced to dress in a certain way due to his familial upbringing

In contrast though, he found a way to express himself through his clothes while still fitting into the expectations placed on him

Zuko lives in dark clothes. The only sense of color he has are dark red shirts/hoodies, one pair of grey sweatpants, and a deep navy shirt he stole from Sokka

Everything else is black

But that doesn’t mean they’re all boring and the same

A lot of his clothing has small details woven into the seams which shows that Zuko puts a lot of effort into the clothing he puts on

He mostly wears black jeans but he has a huge range of styles including skinny, distressed, boyfriend, baggy, and straight legged

He tends to focus on the bottom half more, styling his outfit around his pants and then pairing a simple tee

Kinda imagine an eboy vibe but more chill

He wears converses, vans, or other flat sneakers for the most part

When he needs to dress up, he still sticks to dark tones

His go to is black dress pants that are pretty tight and either a black or red button up

He has a few suits from growing up but he loathes them with a passion and prefers to look casual when dressing up

Zuko likes to put effort into his appearance because it helps channel his energy and he thinks that if he looks presentable, people will be less likely to judge him on his past or his scar

He gets pretty self-conscious and insecure when he tries new things, and it’ll take him a while to expand his closet into other styles

He’s comfortable with his look and he isn’t too keen on trying new things but he isn’t completely opposed

Suki

Suki, much like Katara, has this look of effortless beauty

However for her, she does put effort into her outfit pretty much everyday

She also wears earth tones for the most part, but her closet does have a large variety

On the day to day she’ll wear skinny jeans, yoga pants, or athletic shorts with a cute top

Though her clothes aren’t that fancy, she matches them all really well and her makeup is always impeccable

Her top selection is bigger and is made up of mostly cropped tees and tighter crop tops

However, her guilty pleasure is large sweaters and hoodies that she’s stolen from her guy friends and it’s pretty common to find her styling those with jeans and cute shoes

She also has a pair of red high tops, that much like Aang, she has worn down to the point where they’re more dirt than anything

And while she doesn’t wear them every day, they’re definitely a staple in her closet

But suki honestly lives for platform sneakers, they don’t have to be super tall but anything that gives her a little lift makes her that much more confident

When she dresses up, she shares a lot of the same styles with Toph

She really likes sundresses with sneakers, or rompers with sandals

However when she really has to get fancy, she’ll wear longer dresses that fall below her knee or all the way to the floor with a pair of heels and she’ll be feeling herself

Suki is overall pretty adventurous with her outfits, but she also knows what she likes

She’ll try the new trends and take suggestions from her friends, but she’s also not scared to say no and go comfy yet put together for a day

She’s one of those girls that kinda looks great in everything and people really wish they had her closet but half the time she’s borrowing things from friends to piece together outfits

Yue

Yue loves clothes

Simple as that

She grew up with money, but without the overbearing parents and she’s always had an affinity for dressing up and following the new trends as well as the older ones

She finds that waking up and making herself look good, gets her ready for the day and helps put her into the right headspace

She also lives for light pastels, typically of the cooler hues but sometimes she’ll venture into the pinks and reds

On the day to day she’ll wear either light blue or white bottoms (you name it: skirts, shorts, pants, whatever) and a plain shirt

A lot of her clothing has lace on it, it’s just something that Yue really likes

And all the light colors look amazing against her dark skin

She wears chunky sneakers or flats mostly, because they’re cute but also comfortable to walk in

She also usually has an accessory, whether it be a purse, sunglasses, or a cute bandana, she likes to add little things that pull her outfit together

She definitely looks better than most on the day to day because she really enjoys looking nice

However she still has the skill of not looking overdressed

When she dresses up, she looks ethereal

Like Katara, she likes satin and silk a lot because it’s comfy and soft and often falls effortlessly

She tends to wear dresses that are just at her knee or are tea length, and doesn’t really like floor length dresses

The only really short stuff she wears are her skirts and shorts

She also really likes heels when she’s dressing up, and a slit in her dress to show off her legs

She’s super confident in her style and definitely loves finding inspiration from her friends, strangers, magazines and wherever she can find it

She also always looks amazing, even when she is dressed casually

Azula

Surprisingly, Azula isn’t really that flamboyant with her style

She likes simple looks like jeans and tshirts or a simple dress

She, like Zuko, wears darker colors but has a plethora of pink in her wardrobe because of TyLee

On the day to day she’s often wearing simple black jeans, a band tee or just a hoodie with doc martens

People find it surprising because Azula comes across as a big personality, and she definitely is around her friends, but she just isn’t that interested in fashion

She prefers to focus her energy and time on self-care like her nails, hair, and skin

Both Mai and TyLee are into fashion so Azula does let them dress her up and down for fun, but for the most part she’s pretty simple

For dressing up, she’s very simple

She’ll wear either a black or red dress, usually that falls just above or just below her knee

She likes a straight neckline but has few options (strapless, halter, etc)

And she’ll pair the dress with a simple black heel, not too many straps

She does like tall heels, it helps with her confidence, but they aren’t very flashy

Despite her basic style, she does understand the importance of looking presentable and doesn’t usually wear baggy clothing

She’s found a pretty good balance between casual, basic, but still presentable

basically she doesn’t need a boisterous closet because she is very talkative and loud with her friends, so she doesn’t feel the need to overcompensate with her clothing or anything

Mai

in complete opposite to Azula, Mai LOVES showing her personality through her clothes

she isn’t very talkative and instead likes to show her mood with her outfits

though she does wear dark colors, she’ll experiment with others

when she’s feeling sad, she covers up. She likes long sleeves, even if they are mesh or transparent, and long jeans with boots

She’s a slut for peasant sleeves (but I mean… me too)

when she’s happy, she’ll wear red or pink. She’ll stick with either jeans or a jean skirt that’s dark but she’ll pair it with a baggy dusty pink or vibrant red shirt that she tucks in. she’ll also wear trendier sneakers on those days (but they’ll probably still be boots)

when’s she’s feeling really good or adventurous she’ll dress more colorful. The style itself is pretty basic: jeans and a shirt, but she’ll wear her blue mom jeans. She’ll pair it with her purple doc martens and a white shirt with a different colored jacket

however it’s the days that she wears sweats, leggings and hoodies that she receives the most attention. The attention is always from her friends because on those days, she’s either feeling very comfortable in her surroundings and they want to talk to her, or she’s had a shit day and they want to help her feel better

when dressing up, she likes to wear black with fun accents like buckles or ribbons or fun sleeves or zippers or lace or anything like that

she’s pretty tall, so she doesn’t often wear heels but she’ll wear fishnet tights and tuck them into some boots or she’ll wear flats

she does tend to wear clothes that are tighter and then pair them with baggy outerwear to offset the outfit

she does wear a lot of boots but she has them in a bunch of different colors for every emotion and outfit

people are pretty envious of her wardrobe and while she doesn’t really talk and isn’t that confident in herself, she’s always been sure of her style

she also really enjoys dressing her friends up and swapping styles to try to make new outfits

TyLee

TyLee also loves clothes

she’s pretty girly and used clothing from an early age to set herself apart from not only her sisters but also from society

in today’s terms she’d be a soft girl with a hint of vsco

there’s a lot of pinks, reds, purples, whites, and other pastels in her wardrobe

she tries to avoid dark tones because she thinks they wash her out

she’s also very bubbly and upbeat for the most part and likes to convey that in her outfits

she wears a lot of tennis skirts, plaid skirts, paper bag shorts, and other stuff that kinda looks like it came from a teen movie

she doesn’t really like pants but if she does wear them, they’ll be loose and typically have a paper bag waistline

and they’ll definitely be high waisted no matter what

her tops are typically crop top tanks or fuzzy sweaters that are just a tad too big

she also really likes to wear long cardigans and sweaters that fall below her hemline

every day she wears a white shoe

they’ll either be chunky sneakers, vans, sandals, high tops, or something else but they’ll definitely be white

people really don’t know how she keeps them clean

when she dresses up, she’ll wear tighter clothes but then offset them with a long or bigger jacket and sneakers

she hates heels

she thinks they are so uncomfortable and prefers sneakers or sandals

TyLee does like trying new stuff but she’s also really comfortable with her current style and isn’t that interested in trying a whole ton of new stuff

she also really likes dressing other people up, both in her own style and in theirs

she’s pretty confident in her clothes but her insecurities definitely bleed through sometimes, but she always tries to be happy no matter what and that definitely comes through in her clothes

hehe that’s it :)

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