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ellemfaoh · 2 years

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Pinball, Hair, and Detention Pt. 1 | Vance Hopper x Reader

Part 1 (here) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Word Count: 2.9k

Categories: Enemies to Lovers (eventually lol), Rivalry, Angst, Fluff, mentions of past Bruce X Reader

Content Warnings: Swearing, Bullying, Mentions of Blood, Fighting, Female Reader implied

Summary: Reader and Vance have some sort of ongoing rivalry. You accidentally spilled your drink on his hair and he in turn gave you a “fresh cut.” You both end up getting detention together due to fighting. On the walk home one day— where you both live merely a block away, he barely misses your abduction and watches as you helplessly get carried away in a black van.

A/N: let’s pretend the grabber decided to start grabbing like a year or two later or smth cuz high schooler Vance and Bruce seems more plausible to me personally

A/N 2.0: Please excuse weird formatting like spaces behind paragraphs n shit. I wrote this on docs because my personal laptop is broken and my school laptops block tumblr—so all this uploading is done from my phone lol

——————————————

You never figured that walking into the Grab ‘N Go on a hot Denver summer day would have catalyzed as big a domino effect on your life as it did—and yet it did.

It was the middle of a Denver summer in 1977, the year before high school; and everyone was dealing with a week hotter than satan’s armpit. Most kids were either in their houses with the AC on full blast, in stores and the local theater, or away to go to the beach with their family. It explains why the town was just a little more empty this week. Both of your parents worked full-time jobs down in the city around an hour away, so you were confined to either your house or local entertainment attractions—the same ones you had been using since you could open your eyes. It was kind of old by the time you were twelve and stuck in your small town for yet another summer.

You were currently situated on your bed, reading last week’s edition of the Teen Beat magazine, flipping through the pages of celebrity interviews, dating tips, and latest fashion trends—which eventually got old, especially considering this was last week’s magazine. You checked the time. 12:53 PM. Probably the hottest part of the day. You only lived three blocks from the Grab N’ Go though, so if you biked or just walked quickly you probably wouldn’t get heatstroke just from being outside.

“Ugh.” You groaned, peeling yourself from the comforts of your bed. You had to change. “All of this for a magazine and some cola.” You muttered to yourself, sliding on the nearest (and hopefully clean) pair of jean shorts and exchanging your spaghetti strap pajama top for a plain white tee.

Getting out of your room and down the hall, you picked up the shoes you kicked off in the hallway yesterday and slipped them on, grabbing the $5 bill your parents left on the counter for you to order lunch with—which you were deciding to use for snacks. Maybe you’d pick up a small lunch thing on the way home. The money’s use was ‘to be determined,’ you decided.

Leaving your house and out into the Denver summer air, any amount of chill you felt on yourself before was wiped away completely. You needed to make this trip quick. What was a little jog compared to the instant relief of the too-cold Grab N’ Go?

Walking into the small convenience store was instant relief. Not too many people were around—and those that were wouldn’t bother you, the lady at the counter looked less bothered too, which was surprising since Vance Hopper was stationed at the pinball machine as per usual. Maybe it was because no one who would piss him off was there. Then again, anyone who bothers Vance must have a death wish.

Grabbing a soda and the new edition of Teen Beat, you walked over to the counter and slid the money over, opening the drink and quenching your thirst for a cold drink. Taking the return cash the lady gave you, you walked over to the exit, flipping through some pages absentmindedly. It was this exact moment where life seemed to have changed forever. An excited kid—probably an elementary schooler if you had to guess, ran into your arm, causing your soda to splash out of the bottle. You definitely had a death wish now, because your soda got all over Vance Hopper; the sugary drink now in his hair and on his back.

When the losing chime of the pinball sounded around the store and the blonde went still, the air in the mart tensed. Everyone was waiting. Watching. You didn’t bother to wait either, quickly speeding out of the store. Maybe he wouldn’t remember your face. You had never really talked with him before, the most you had done was look at him a few times in classes you had previously shared.

You had drank a little more soda and tossed it in the nearest trash. Sure you were running away from what was probably certain death, but you already bought the soda. Might as well finish what’s left before running away. You rolled up your magazine and tucked it into a pocket before moving into a slight jog to go back home. Or maybe you should go get something from a restaurant. Usually when you commit an unsaid crime hiding in unexpected places could benefit. You barely made it a block away before you heard Vance shout at you, his footsteps getting increasingly louder.

“Hey dumb shit! You just got your soda shit all over me!”

You sped up, breaking into a run and not responding to him. If you made it home in time then maybe he’d leave you alone. But what about school? You’d have to change your name and face and move across the country.

“I’m going to kill you!” Now he was running after you. He wasn’t unused to running after kids who fucked with him, so he was pretty used to this kinda thing. And he was fast at it too. “Gotcha!”

You yelped when you were grabbed and thrown down onto the grass next to the sidewalk. At least you were next to a park. Maybe God would be a little more merciful today, considering you could’ve been thrown onto the pavement. You really hoped that the next thing that would happen would be you getting saved right before he starts beating your head into the ground. You really didn’t feel like going to the ER today, and your mom would be pissed about how you knew you shouldn’t start shit with ‘Vance fucking Hopper.’ Your dad would probably beat you for a second time over the medical bills.

“I swear it wasn’t on purpose!” You pleaded, choosing to explain yourself as he straddled your waist, keeping you in place between his legs as he grabbed at your shirt collar. Maybe he’d punch you softer? “Some kid ran into my arm! I promise I’d never bother you ever, Hopper!”

Vance just started down at you, fist by his side, assessing your words. “Huh.” He said, letting your shirt go as your upper body fell to the ground. Now you were winded. Better than the alternative. “Guess I’ll just get a similar payback then.”

You watched in horror as he pulled out a pocket knife. What was he gonna do? Carve his name into you? Cut up your face? Oh god, he was gonna murder you. With a not-so-gentle hand, the blonde boy pulled your hair, hands threaded firmly in your locks. “What…?”

Vance cut off a good length of your hair, and you watched in horror (as best you could) at the hack job. What previously used to be your clean-cut hair was now resting on the floor or cut in the most uneven way possible. Maybe a bright side would be the fact you had the layers all of your hairstylists could never give you. After he was finished, he stood up and looked at the hair in his fist while you sat there crying. “Now we’re even.” He said, tossing the rest of your hair into the grass next to you.

That was the start of your burning hatred for Vance Hopper.

——————————————

High School had finally started a few weeks after your and Vance’s incident. At least your hair could grow into its new form for a little bit. To say your mom was angry when she came home that night to find your hair hacked up was an understatement. She was livid—ranting about, ‘how could you let this happen?!’ And, ‘We need to schedule you an appointment with Shelly immediately.’ You had to hand it to your mom and Shelly though; cuz they got your hair not looking as horrible as it did. Hell, they even kept the layers, which was actually really nice. As you walked through the halls, you could tell there were a few people talking about your hair. It made sense though, considering you ended school with longer hair.

You walked up to your friend, Bruce Yamada, leaning against his neighboring locker as you let out a quiet groan of exhaustion and annoyance. He just chuckled and closed his locker, slinging his bag over his shoulder and gave you a light punch in the shoulder. “Spur of the moment decision, or did you get caught in something?”

“Does Vance Hopper count?”

“Yikes.”

You quickly socked him in the shoulder, lips turned into a frown as you looked at him. Bruce just gave a light chuckle and apologized for the remark while rubbing his shoulder. You weren’t by any means a crazily strong badass, but you can pack quite a mean punch. Just not against Vance Hopper, or Robin Arellano. Though, after your run-in with Vance this summer, you did practice your swings and basic attacks—just in case, you thought,

“Whatever, let’s just go to class.” You sighed, grabbing Bruce by his backpack strap and pulling on him. You two were lucky to have three out of your six of your classes together, and they were in every other class period, so it wouldn’t be horrible.

Rolling into your first period, which was Biology, you were relieved to not see a certain blonde-headed dickhead anywhere around. Bruce chuckled at you when you let out a sigh of relief and dragged you to the last available seats that were next to each other. You both would be damned if you didn’t sit next to each other. Bruce wanted someone to help keep his ‘crazy fans,’ as you dubbed it, away from him. You? You just didn’t really wanna sit next to someone you didn’t know well. You really hated the awkward silence when the teacher asked you guys to do the ‘get to know your classmate’ activities.

“Class one cleared.” He whispered to you, getting a giggle out of you. That was the nice part of being friends with Bruce, is that he always knew how to keep the mood light. Previously, a few summers ago, you both dated. It wasn’t anything big, and it just felt like being friends. You both decided to just keep up with the friends thing, considering there was no romantic chemistry there. Now you were both the other’s special person. Bruce’s break-ups, your family issues, no secret was kept between you two.

——————

After Biology ended and you started heading toward English, your stomach lurched up your throat. Vance Hopper was right in front of you. Luckily he was walking forward so he didn’t see you, but you almost bumped into him for a second time. You didn’t need to be re-acquainted with his pocket knife again. You saw a small space in the hallway clear out and give you a direct ‘in’ into your English classroom, so you quickly ducked your head and hurried into the classroom, finding a seat in the back of the class next to the windows. Thank god this spot was still open.

You set your bag down on your desk and laid your head on top of it, listening to the buzz of kids talking with their friends as they entered the classroom. What was a short 5-minute power nap gonna do? Just before you could relax fully though, the buzz turned into a quiet hum suddenly. It was weird. Did the teacher walk in? Was it Mr. Manning? He was the worst teacher to have. You lifted your head up to see what the quietness was about, expecting to see a balding middle aged man at the front of the class, but you were met with Vance Hopper.

“Fuck.” You mumbled, watching him walk up to you.

“Hey dipshit, you’re in my seat.”

The kids in the classroom visibly tensed as he spoke to you, watching as you gave him a tired look. You knew the easy path would be to relinquish your seat and move, but you were particularly pissed at him. You didn’t want to give him the right to walk all over you. It was the middle of a school day—what was he gonna do?

“No I’m not. I’m in my seat.”

Vance gave you an angry look, standing right next to you. “Do I need to cut off your tongue next? I’m telling you to–”

“Everyone sit down and be quiet. I’m taking attendance.” Your teacher walked in, and what did you know? Mr. Manning. “Also, these are your seats for the rest of the school year, so enjoy.” Everyone looked up at him, waiting for him to finish with whatever paper he had in his hands. Please look up. Please notice Vance. “Hopper! I know about you. Sit your ass down.” He said, pointing at the seat next to you. Fuck. That wasn’t occupied?

Vance gave you one more angry glare before dropping his stuff and sitting down begrudgingly in the uncomfortable plastic chair. Well, at least Vance wouldn’t be able to torment you too much here. When you looked up though, he slid his finger across his throat. A warning.

You’re dead.

——————

“I’m telling you Bruce, he kept kicking my legs during class! It hurt like a bitch too. Have you seen his boots? I’m gonna die.” You finish telling Bruce, sitting at your table and chewing angrily on your sandwich. It was Friday, the last day of the first week of school, and you were just hours from 48 hours of freedom from Vance Hopper. “And I have to deal with him in history next.” Yes, you had Vance Hopper in two of your classes

“Wow. Good luck.” He says, trading you his apple for your peach. “I mean, good luck with getting through high school. With Vance in your classes and all.”

“Your support speaks volumes.” You say flatly, laughing along with Bruce. You couldn’t ask for a better friend—he just always made things feel so much better.

That was until you felt a cold substance coat your head entirely, slowly dripping in your hair to your clothes. Vance fucking Hopper just poured his milk all over you. Bruce just stared at you for a second, standing up instantly as you took a moment to process what happened and wipe the milk off of your face.

“What’s your problem with (Y/N), man?!” Bruce shouted at Vance, the blonde walking away with a cocky smirk.

“I mistook her for a trash can, my bad.” He chuckled, kids turning to look at the commotion building. “Maybe you shouldn’t hang around her so much, you wouldn’t want me to have to—“

Vance was met with a right hook to the face, not expecting you to fight back ever. The first time you had cried over a simple accident, but now you were swinging at him? Oh were you getting bold. He blinked in shock for a moment, pressing a hand to his face and looking at you. Maybe now would be a good time to back down and accept what you had coming, but you were feeling really stupid today.

He seized you by your collar, holding you close as he growled out, “You’ll regret that when you’re six feet under, you bitch.”

You spat in his face, kicking at his knee to get him to let go—which he did, and you fell back to the ground with all your body weight, watching him wipe the spit from his face as he wound back and gave you a good kick to your legs, a yelp caught in your throat. Now the entire cafeteria had eyes on you both, kids watching in horror, shock, and excitement. You’d love to see these kids go toe-to-toe with Vance Hopper the way you were now.

After a short while of fighting, you and Vance were on the floor. Scratches, bites, punches, hair pulling. Blood, and bruises, and welts. Vance’s arms were for sure fucked to hell and back, but he did a large number to your torso. You would totally believe it if you were told you broke a rib. It wasn’t long before Bruce had run back in with security and staff, watching the two of you get pulled apart.

Vance had a bruise already taking place on his cheek and his arms were visibly harmed—hell, you even got a hold of some of his hair. The previously fluffy but somewhat tamed mop on his head was now a mess of tangles and abuse. You meanwhile had a bloody nose, and you were holding an arm around your stomach, knees wobbly. While you managed to get back at Vance in your own way, you definitely took the brunt of the beating, and not to mention the milk in your hair was still there.

Vance fought against the grip on his arms like an angry restrained dog, while you stared at the floor, walking to the office with the teacher who was next to you. Looking over at Bruce, he mouthed a ‘sorry’ and you just gave him a small smile, shaking your head. You could always count on Bruce to somehow end up a hero in a sense. With a last look back at Vance, he also walked in defeat to the office, refusing to look at you. What a fucking asshole.

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rickriordanfandam · 3 years

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opinions on riordanverse ; my edition

a lot of people have been doing this so i decided why not right. probably gna lose some followers or smth but anyways. pls respect my opinions! if u disagree, thats fine, but please be polite. unless any of my opinions strikes u as morally wrong then pls point it out to me respectfully. thanks!

- i actually liked drew. im so sorry to everyone who hates her but full offence, why. think about it this way ok, first of all drew became hc because silena died. silena was the traitor, the one who betrayed chb, yet after she died campers celebrated her as a hero? and then drew suddenly has to replace her and live up to idk that legacy she left behind,, when all of a sudden this girl named piper swoops in and takes her place. idk abt u but i wld be salty abt that too. not only that, but as an asian, the chances of drew having faced racism/bullying as a child is pretty high (she studies at brooklyn academy). which means that when she finds out shes a demigod, and arrives at chb where most of the campers are white (this is an assumption btw), she’d obviously be scared of being bullied for her skin color right?? so the first thing she wld do before the campers get to bully her is to bully them before they can do so. (sentence structure here is wack i apologize) ofc this might not even have happened, drew could have had a perfect childhood && was a b1tch for no reason, BUT EVEN THEN HER ROLE AS A BULLY WAS PRETTY VITAL BECAUSE THAT FURTHER SHOWED THE CONTRAST BETWEEN HER AND PIPER,, HIGHLIGHTING PIPER AS A HERO//GOOD CHARACTER,, AND THEREFORE MAKING READERS LIKE PIPER MORE. anyway stop hating on drew please. ALSO WHY IS THIS SO LONGA SDFJHG

- jason isnt bland, the fandom just kinda erased his backstory (thanks to @pjohoo-memes for the phrasing lol)

- reynabeth wouldnt have lasted/would have broken up several times. idk i just see them as two extremely powerful characters who have firm opinions and will definitely clash at some point. in a platonic relationship,, i can see them as really good friends but as lovers? idk i just think theyll break up

- PIPABETH

- i dont really like jercy,, i see them as better friends than lovers. also idt jason and percy were that close..?

- the dam and not my type jokes are srsly cringey and were never funny. ik that seems hypocritical since my username literally makes use of the dam joke but honestly i dont actually like the joke. its not funny to me and has never been funny

- the seven were not best friends. they definitely argued,, and honestly probably werent as close as the fandom makes them seem. like ure dumped with 6 other people, out of which u only know a few. my introverted ass would have jumped off the argo 2 quicker than leo valdez could bomb camp jupiter up. also leo was a dick to frank. so what if frank is bigger sized?? thats not a valid reason to tease him

- the fandom needs to stop hating on octavian while worshipping luke. if u hate luke and u say u hate octavian too, then okay. but if u tell me ure a luke stan but u despise octavian?? imma disagree w u. luke was worse than octavian im sorry. first of all, octavian being a dick was kinda justified. hes been after the praetor position for so long, and everyone keeps saying to “wait for jason” when suddenly this dude, whos a son of NEPTUNE (neptune wasnt liked much by romans), and the camp decides to make him praetor?? dude i would be pissed off big time. and then afterwards, he finds out that greek demigods are real and the dude they made praetor is greek. AND THEN GREEK DEMIGODS COME TO CJ AND ONE OF THEM BOMB IT UP?? octavian has been told all his life that greeks are scum and this dude called leo valdez attacks cj. sure it was an accident, but did octavian know that? no. so it was honestly justified that he was such a salty prick im just saying. also some of yall be hating on octavian for cutting a teddy bear open and thats the funniest shit ive ever heard i swear

- luke didnt go to elysium

- travis and connor stoll r way too underrated. the two have been head counselors of the hermes cabin since luke was revealed as a traitor, can u imagine the stress? luke, the person they probably looked up to as a brother, betrayed them. and they didnt even have time to process this when they were thrown the roles of being hcs. that would have been so stressful and i would probably have broken down if i were them. the stoll brothers taking turns to wake up at ungodly hours because a new camper is crying and homesick and terrified, the stoll brothers having to comfort and take care of new campers, having to deal with the amount of people in that cramped space because not enough campers are being claimed fast enough. having to resolve issues between campers in the hermes cabin all the time. the stolls arent just comedic relief, and we need to stop treating them as such

- tratie shldve been canon idc idc

- demigods of the demeter cabin arent talked about enough and i love the fact that meg was demeters kid. like she isnt the child of one of the big three yet shes so powerful.

- we need to hype clarisse up more her character arc was phucking amazing

- rachel is overhated. sis found out greek gods exist and regularly come down to earth to fuck around and went “ok cool”. queen shit behavior methinks

- the floor 19 crew of mcga is srsly underrated. like do u even remember halfborn gunderson, mallory keen, tj, etc??? bc i feel like we only remember samirah, magnus, alex, and sometimes blitz and hearthstone

- sadie (tkc) was kinda annoying at first. i like her more now tho but i rmb not liking her for a phat while

- tkc and mcga need more love

- carter kane and jason grace arent boring. theyre just really sweet boys who are too good for this world and yes yes yes

- hazel and frank (especially frank) need to be hyped up more. i hardly ever see anything about them. also yall seem to forget that frank was literally made praetor and that even hecate admired hazel and was willing to fight beside her because of how powerful she was

- frazels age gap is kinda sketch but i still think theyre really cute

- nico definitely had trauma from going to tartarus on his own

- GROVER IS PERCYS BEST FRIEND

- annabeth isnt smarter than leo but neither is leo smarter than annabeth. ive seen a lot of discussions about who is smarter and heres my hot take on it: neither. theyre equally smart, just in different ways. leos a genius mathematically speaking. he has no issues solving math problems meant for people much, much older than him. annabeth on the otherhand, is great at strategies etc. she can make an army of 1000 more powerful than the enemy, even if theyre outnumbered. so in my opinion, both are equally as smart//u cant compare their intelligence, because their talents lie in two different areas.

- while i do agree rick riordan isnt a god and that hes bound to make mistakes,, AND that hes given us a lot of representation,, if the representation offends the people its sposed to represent, then theres a problem. im talking about piper as a poc and wearing feathers in her hair. im not a poc, so i cant speak for them on whether or not its wrong, because i dont know either. HOWEVER, i have seen multiple posts BY pocs talking about how they didnt really like rick’s representation of piper, and thats an issue. pocs have been and are still oppressed and discriminated against by many. as a white cis man, we cant really blame him for not knowing (tho he could have done a research,, asked some pocs,, idk), but by representing pocs in that manner, hes influencing impressionable kids/teens into thinking “oh pocs wear feathers in their hair all the time” etc, which isnt true. the pjo/hoo series is extremely successful, and kids who read the books will probably start forming inaccurate opinions on pocs. the amount of fan art that depicts piper with feathers in her hair dont help either. “but rick said so in the books, so its canon” yeah well rick isnt a god and he can get some things wrong at times. im not saying we should cancel him, im saying we should start educating ourselves and not spread false info like pocs wearing feathers in their hair all the time. also that snake song shit where she sang Summertime was just- yeah. bc heres the thing you can be racist, and still include minorities, but portray them in a racist way. And even then, ignorance isn't a thing to admire. Getting those facts wrong still has a major impact. It continues to perpetuate racist stereotypes.

“ With the feather thing, I looked it up myself; it takes less than five minutes to figure out that Cherokees don't braid feathers into their hair. I didn't grow up in the country where my parents are from. I have many other first/second generation American friends who have also been through that, with a bit of a disconnect from their culture. But something that most of us have in common is that when we didn't know something, and when our parents weren't that big of a help, we looked it up. We sought out resources online and through other people from our culture to be able to connect more with where we came from. Some of that took a Google search. So I find it hard to believe that Piper, a girl who Rick's trying to portray as someone who is attempting to connect with her culture and is totally against racist stereotypes, wouldn't know that eagle feathers aren't supposed to be braided into your hair casually. She may be disconnected from her culture, but she's also shown to want to connect back to it. Piper wouldn't be casually braiding feathers into her hair while also telling off people for being racist. It makes no sense.” - reddit thread (down below)

for those of yall who wanna know more please please read this, it has a lot of things i wanna add in here : https://www.reddit.com/r/camphalfblood/comments/gy3gl2/piper_mcleans_portrayal_is_innacurate/

as well as https://finding-my-culture.tumblr.com/post/189422373260/maxie-ratties-and-cattie-finding-my-culture

i will be posting screenshots of these in future posts so if ure viewing this on ig and u dont have tumblr,, dont worry

- the fact that most of the strong female characters in the series refuse to be “girly”, and ngl i dont really like that. just because ure girly doesnt mean u cant be strong.

- piper would have been a great way for him to start making the strong characters act girlier, but instead he went with the “I’m not like other girls” trope which is quite obnoxious to hear constantly, and I don’t think it’s necessarily great for younger girls to read that idea growing up. the closest we've ever had to a strong female character who was also into "girly" things was Silena. when I was younger I admired Piper's "I'm not like other girls" thing, but then I got older and realized that the whole mentality of "not like other girls" is super obnoxious, and a little bit toxic

i have a heck load more that i cant rmb rn but yeah feel free to add more

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chocosvt · 4 years

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⚬ pairing: seungcheol x reader. ⚬ word count: 4865. ⚬ warnings: drinking / smoking. ⚬ genre: mostly angst, fluff, some suggestive/borderline nsfw scenes. a casual life!au? (meaning he isn’t an idol)

✧✎ synopsis: seungcheol knows you’re no longer together, that he should’t be thinking about you as often as he does, and yet, you keep appearing. his heart doesn’t know how many times it can afford to split.

✧✎ a/n: i really wanted to write smth as i work toward finishing that other massive fic. so HERE. bc i miss seungcheol ;-; and idk i just like angst lol.

Seungcheol doesn’t know if it’s right for him to be looking at you like this. It doesn’t necessarily feel wrong, but there’s a distinct craving in his gaze that spots him with doubt. You’re not together any more. The chapter where your lives were once romantically intertwined was coldly shut months ago, leaving little room for reconciliation or even the most surface-level of acquaintances. Yet, Seungcheol is struck with a sudden pining as his eyes inspect you from top to bottom across the room, finding it pure luck you were both at the same new year’s party.

There’s a doorway from the living room that leads into the kitchen. Seungcheol is sitting on the sofa with a jade-tinted bottle in his hand, though the amount of alcohol he’s consumed since first arriving has greatly subsided. He’s too distracted by you to even raise the bottle to his lips, nor does he adequately listen when Joshua attempts a conversation. You’re talking to some people he doesn’t recognize, your eyes rather milky and a shiny can in your hand. He stares at the side of your neck and thinks it would be nice if he were giving you a hickey right now.

“Hey.” Joshua bumps Seungcheol’s shoulder and the boy finally turns his head.

He sees Wonwoo and Hansol as well, who give Seungcheol a warm glance. He notes that Hansol is carrying his signature black lunchbox.

Joshua then leans toward Seungcheol’s ear in order to whisper over the music: “We’re going outside to smoke, you coming or not?”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “Pass,” he says, “I don’t really feel like it.”

He pays attention to the beer in his hand, titling his head back as he gulps down a significant amount of the tangy, bubbly flavour. It doesn’t taste that good, and the bottle’s not even cold at this point, but Seungcheol figures he should just finish it anyways. Joshua sees you in the kitchen, leaning generously against the sink while you attempt to smile at the strangers who converse with you. It was worth a try to get Seungcheol off the couch and away from lamenting at your lost relationship, but he’s unimaginably stubborn when he wants to be.

“Okay,” Joshua replies, patting his shoulder, “don’t get too hung up or anything.”

Seungcheol watches the small crowd weave their way through the congregation to reach the patio door, the last he glimpses of Joshua being his bright blue hat before he slips into the chilly night. Quickly, Seungcheol polishes off the remaining alcohol inside the jade bottle, heavily swallowing the deep burn that melts down his throat while deserting the glass on the arm of the couch. He senses a distant thrumming in his cranium, knows he’ll regret every sip by morning, but for now he cares so very little.

As he leans back in his seat, Seungcheol comes to focus on the body that’s suddenly standing right in front of him. It’s weird, who would do that? However, the breath instantly whisks from the boys’ lungs when he realizes that it’s not just some intoxicated, fucked up stranger who isn’t even cognisant of what room they’re in. It’s you. You’re standing in front of him, to which Seungcheol poorly hides the stupor that colours his face. Before he can stumble out a single word, you’re straddling his lap and settling your hands against his firm shoulders.

Evidently, Seungcheol doesn’t know what the hell is happening. Neither of you are in a sober headspace. Furthermore, he hasn’t touched you (let alone been this close to you) in almost three months. Out of habituality, he grabs the familiar warmth of your waist, the simple contact with your skin igniting an emotion that was once wholly repressed. Staring into your eyes, he sees how foggy they are. He knows his can’t look much different.

“W-What are you doing?” Seungcheol stutters, his cheeks hot and sunset pink.

At first, you don’t speak, only crack a small smile while wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing your faces in close proximity until you’re practically breathing the same air.

You blink at him heavily. “Kiss me.” You whisper against his mouth.

Seungcheol doesn’t believe he’s capable of ever denying you.

The next few hours seem to seamlessly blend together. Seungcheol remembers the intense make-out that ensued on the couch and the little regard he carried for the environment around him. Once he tastes the sharp liquor from your lips, he completely submits to that catastrophic buzz you give him. Feeling your weight push down against his lap, how your fingertips slip through his soft, onyx hair, the way it feels morally wrong to welcome your tongue into his mouth, but so physically right that Seungcheol can only pull your hips closer.

He remembers the warm, open-mouthed kisses he nipped to your sensitive neck, murmuring in a slurred, gritty tone: “let me take you upstairs, baby.”

Joshua might throw the remainder of Hansol’s stale bong water over his head if he discovered what you and Seungcheol did. Somehow, there’s an empty bedroom available at the end of the dim corridor. After falling onto the sheets, you hastily pull the white top over your head and fling it toward a dusky corner, reaching for Seungcheol as he climbs over top your body. While pressing more heated kisses against your throat, already bruising and marked with indents from his teeth, Seungcheol’s hand rubs a sweet friction between your thighs, right over your jeans.

He hears you release a small cry of his name, your nails dragging down his back.

Nothing has ever made his heart shake more.

ii.

Seungcheol is confused as to what time is it. There’s no alarm clock on the bedside table, and his phone is buried within the pocket of his navy green jacket slumped at the end of the bed. He can’t hear much from the level beneath him. Looking toward the blinds, he can only gauge slits of the night sky. All of a sudden, there’s a sickly coughing noise from behind the shut bathroom door, to which he views a small sliver of yellow light underneath. Seungcheol notes the empty space beside him. He hears another cough, followed by a pained and irritated groan.

Damn – you have to be hungover.

Stumbling drearily out from the bed, Seungcheol brushes away the black strands of hair that flop before his eyes. He almost topples over trying to get his boxers back on. The pounding in his head isn’t unbearable, and he figures he’ll be fine after getting some water in his system and dozing off to a few painkillers. Seungcheol taps his knuckles against the bathroom door.

“Hey,” he calls out, his voice still thick with sleep, “how bad is it?”

There’s a moment of silence. Seungcheol assumes it must feel bizarre to have your ex consoling you through a hangover, especially considering the history of last night.

“I don’t know…” comes your weak response, “I think I’m dying.”

Seungcheol leans his head against the wood and laughs. “You’re not dying, honey. Can I come in?”

The door swings open, and Seungcheol sees you half-dressed in your white t-shirt and underwear, a watery film in your eyes and a look of pure exhaustion draining your countenance. Then, you’re immediately collapsing back to the cold tiling, leaning your head against the side of the bathtub while the toilet sits across from you. This doesn’t feel like an unfamiliar scene. Seungcheol used to always nurture you through your intoxication, and at least this time you possess enough strength to stand without your legs trembling.

“You want me to get you anything?” Seungcheol asks. “Water? A wet cloth? Some pills?”

He doesn’t know where he’ll get the pills. It’s probably three in the morning, but he figures the convenience store in town might still be open.

You swallow tightly and wrap your arms around your knees, the fluorescent lights gleaming against your balmy, flushed skin. It seems as though you won’t look him in the eyes. Seungcheol understands. This isn’t supposed to be happening. Neither of you should be in this bedroom.

A poignant sigh escapes your chest. “What’s wrong with me?” You ask, the water glimmering bright in your eyes. “Why did we do this?”

Seungcheol stiffens. When he catches a glimpse of his body in the mirror, he can read the hazy extent of your night together. The bruises are tinted like cherry and violets, smudged against his chest, his collarbone and neck. Even now, as he really concentrates, Seungcheol can feel the cool air sting dully against his back, which he can only hypothesize is decorated in long, deep scratches that will possibly burn like hell in the shower. His body hasn’t looked like this in months. There’s a clandestine part of him that wishes the marks will never lose their vibrancy.

He doesn’t know how to soothe your conflict.

Instead, Seungcheol takes a seat on the edge of the bathtub and stares down at you tenderly.

“I don’t know,” he replies, “we don’t always make the right decisions.”

You tilt your head back and meet his eyes. Seungcheol’s chest flutters.

For a moment, you look like you want to say something; however, an immediate grimace wrinkles your face and a tight hand is curling around your stomach. You scoot close to the toilet, holding onto its rim while a heavy cough burns acrid against your throat and suddenly, you’re upchucking the potent, venomous liquor from last night. Seungcheol collects your hair in his hand, pulling it back from your face. Once the surges calm for a few minutes, you’re too energy-depleted to do much apart from hang over the toilet, Seungcheol rubbing your back.

It’s three in the morning, but he feels like he would do anything for you.

iii.

Seungcheol opens his wallet and forks out the bills necessary to cover his lunch. He slides out from the booth first, accompanied by Seokmin and Jeonghan who suggested they go out to eat after their basketball game. Seungcheol trails behind them on his phone as they walk down a slim corridor toward the front of the restaurant. He’s texting Joshua about what their fridge looks like, and if it’s necessary to ask Jeonghan about making a stop at the supermarket. The afternoon light is dull as they enter the front house, and Seungcheol sees it’s raining outside.

“Wait—,” Jeonghan stops them before they can leave. “Let me try the gumball machine. Does anyone have ten cents?”

“The gumball machine?” Seokmin laughs. “Are you a child?”

“Shut up.” Jeonghan tuts in response. “I want a pink one. Now do you have ten cents or not?”

“Sheesh, give me a second, I’m checking.”

Seungcheol has developed the skill of tuning out their innocuous banter. He looks through the windows and into the downpour, which ripples unforgivingly against the glass and slicks the pavement. For their sake, he’s glad Jeonghan was able to find a parking spot across the street. As the boy gets down on his knee and crams the small coin into the slot, cranking the handle, something manages to catch in Seungcheol’s peripheral vision. His heart skips a beat. You’re looking out the window while nibbling worrisomely upon your bottom lip.

“Are you freaking kidding? Orange? That’s the worst.”

“Why does it matter?” Seokmin quips. “They all taste the same.”

Jeonghan huffs petulantly. “But I wanted pink! Do you have another ten cents?”

Seungcheol hasn’t seen you since your wicked hangover at the New Year’s party. Though it’s a moment of the past, he remembers the situation so vividly, even more so how restless he felt afterward. He was unable to remove you from his mind, and he thought about you so often that he felt the ache with his whole chest. You haven’t noticed him yet. Seungcheol wants to approach you, though he’s not sure how kindly you’ll react or if you’ll brush him off.

“Awe, yes! Pink!”

Jeonghan stands triumphantly from the gumball machine. He holds the pink candy between his fingers and gets ready to pop it straight in his mouth, and yet, the slippery thing flings from his grasp at the last second. The gumball hits the floor, rolling outside into the rain just as someone runs indoors with their umbrella. Seokmin starts cackling, and Jeonghan just looks like he wants to go home. But Seungcheol can’t leave right now. He decides he has to talk to you.

“Meet you guys in the car,” he says, “I have to do something first.”

Seungcheol taps you on the shoulder. You jump slightly, and he feels bad about scaring you, but he’s relieved to see that your expression is cordial rather than aggravated. It blatantly feels strange. You don’t resemble a stranger, yet you’re not extremely clear to him either.

“Seungcheol? Did you eat here?”

The boy nods. “Yeah, I came here after basketball with some friends”

“O-Oh,” you stutter, looking off to the side, “I’m just waiting.”

You then gesture out the window, toward the grey, heavy rain. Seungcheol spots Seokmin and Jeonghan walking across the street, sporting their jackets pulled over their heads, looking somewhat like imbeciles who he has a soft spot for. At one point you were close with both of them, but now Seungcheol doesn’t even know if you still keep in touch. When you broke up, your worlds started floating apart, and that included contact with each other’s friends.

“Right,” Seungcheol snaps his fingers, “you’re still doing the tutoring thing at the library, huh?”

A timid smile pulls on your lips. “I’m tutoring someone today, but it’s so rainy out. I don’t think it’s gonna pass very soon.”

Seungcheol finds that he doesn’t even process what comes out from his mouth. There’s a sudden rush of giddiness in his veins, and he feels like his nervous, sophomore-self that once crushed on you before your relationship even started. At the same time, it’s an offer he used to make without thought when you were dating, and it warps into a conflicting, emotional mess.

“Do you want my windbreaker?” He asks, plucking at the black and white fabric. “It’s waterproof and stuff.”

Your mouth hangs open for a little bit.

“Uhm… I just—I don’t know, you don’t have to—,”

“It doesn’t matter, seriously.” Seungcheol replies, staring into your wide eyes with a soft expression. “Just give it back whenever we see each other again, okay?”

You lick your lips, swallowing tautly before nodding your head. Seungcheol removes his jacket and helps you slip into the material. It’s a little bit big on you, and the hood droops down far over your face, but, god, seeing you in his clothes engenders Seungcheol’s heart to beat so unbelievably fast. He experiences a concoction of different emotions, different memories. He remembers how it felt seeing you wear his t-shirt after the first time you slept together, how he felt when you’d set up a long distance skype call and you’d be dressed in his old hoodie.

Everything comes rushing back. He doesn’t want to walk away from you, but he knows it’s wrong to linger. You don’t belong to each other anymore.

But at least he’ll get to see you again.

iv.

Seungcheol bounces the basketball a few times against the lacquered floor, feeling the leather texture brush beneath his palm. Then, he takes a deep shot, watching the ball suction perfectly into the hoop just before it echoes against the ground. He was the sole person occupying the gym after a late-night practice. Seokmin was with him about ten minutes ago, but he ended up packing his things and heading off to shower stalls, wishing Seungcheol a goodnight. Even though Seungcheol said he would be leaving shortly, he didn’t know why he was still here.

He picked the ball up and tossed it again, hearing the satisfying swish of the net.

The gym doors suddenly squeak, loud and metallic, to which Seungcheol takes out an earbud assuming that maybe Seokmin forgot something. However, the face that smiles at him doesn’t belong to Seokmin at all, and Seungcheol feels his heart soar. You’re holding the windbreaker that the boy let you borrow during the downpour last week, and he hears a relieved sigh.

“I figured I might catch you here.”

Seungcheol smiles and sets his earbud back in. It astonishes him that you can recall the days he has basketball practice, though Seungcheol supposes it makes great sense considering you used to attend all his warm-ups and games. He grows oddly fond seeing you from the court again.

“Just put in next to that black bag on the bench.”

“I never got to thank you for letting me use it,” you explain while returning the windbreaker to the rest of his belongings, “it was really pouring out, but I was definitely less wet than if I had nothing. I wasn’t too sure if you would still be here. Of course, I knew when I saw Seokmin.”

“It must’ve been weird for him to see you coming back here.” He replies. You would never come to the court unless Seungcheol was there.

“He said hi to me,” you admit, scratching your arm, “he looked kinda nervous though.”

Seungcheol can’t help but note that you seem a little saddened by the interaction. The break-up between you two was all but civilized and pretty. There was shouting, tears, bitter and cold words shanked through the thick air with infinitesimal regard for the other’s feelings. Seungcheol remembers you pushing a picture frame of you two together off the shelf, how the glass cracked, different shards scattering far across the floor. He remembers storming into his bedroom and throwing all your clothes into one heaping pile, demanding that you leave, swearing that he hopes to never see you again. Now, everything feels so pointless and stupid.

The falling out crumbled an entire web of ties between you. Seungcheol understands why Seokmin would be nervous to see you, but he hates to know how it’s upset you.

“Hey,” Seungcheol calls out, attempting to lift the depressive mood, “Wanna shoot?” He bounces the basketball.

You immediately tense. “Uh – no. I haven’t touched a basketball since we were dati—I mean, well – you know. I haven’t played at all.”

Seungcheol smiles, rolling his eyes. “Just come here.” He beckons. “I’ll remind you.”

“I-I don’t know, my friend is in the car. I shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

“It’ll take two minutes.” He reasons. “I promise.”

The boy is delighted to see you comply, even if you are hesitant and approach him with bleeding apprehensiveness. While he shows you how to hold the ball as well as the correct motion to make with your wrist, there’s a smile blooming from one corner of your mouth to the other. Sometimes the past feels exactly like it should: the past. At this moment, a warmth ignites between you two, a spark that feels passionate and ever-lasting. Once he gives a few examples, the ball is suddenly in your hands, and he watches brightly as you sink a basket.

Seungcheol collects the ball, smirking. “You wanna play?” He then asks, checking the ball straight into your chest.

“No,” you respond, sending it back harder, “you know I just said I have someone waiting.”

“It hasn’t been two minutes yet.”

“There’s probably thirty seconds left. We have no time.”

“Fine,” Seungcheol shakes his head, “be a loser.” He doesn’t wait for you, and flicks the ball through the hoop.

It hits the glossy wood, bounces a couple times, and proceeds to roll slowly across the ground. You look at Seungcheol, and Seungcheol looks at you. There’s a small moment of silence.

Until you’re both racing across the floor with arms extended, practically throwing yourselves toward the basketball. It just ghosts under your fingertips, and somehow you manage to secure it against your chest, though you’re unable to even rise from the floor as Seungcheol straddles your waist and attempts to whack the ball out of your grip. The chime of your laughter echoes loudly through the entire gymnasium. You’re too slippery and end up weaseling away, scrambling haphazardly to your feet and using your last breath to sail the ball toward the net.

Seungcheol is too late. He reaches for you, but the ball has already gone through.

As the boy wraps his arms around your waist and hugs your back against his firm, hard chest, you cry out triumphantly, pumping your fists in the air. To anyone who observed from the outside, you wouldn’t exactly paint the image of a broken relationship. You were laughing, celebrating, making harmless mockery pertaining to the other with stupid grins on your faces.

“You’re such a cheater.” Seungcheol says.

Wriggling to face him in the comfort of his grasp, you slide your arms around Seungcheol’s neck and scrunch your nose.

“How did I cheat? That was fair!”

Seungcheol grabs your hips tight, pulling you in close against his body until he can almost count the individual sparkles in your eyes and smell the sweetness of your hair.

“Uh? You said you weren’t gonna play.”

“I wasn’t!” You giggle. “Until you called me a l—,”

The metal doors squeak again. At the speed of light, you and Seungcheol detach from each other, the playful mood disintegrating as the girl who’d been waiting in the car comes looking for you. Seungcheol sees the light drain from your eyes. He watches your shoulders slump, and the deep lump you forcefully swallow upon being interrupted. Seungcheol is utterly disappointed too. His heart doesn’t quite beat the same when you bid him the tiniest, quietest goodbye before running over to your friend, apologizing to her for the unexpected wait. The doors rattle once more, and then the gym is completely empty. It stings worse than anything.

Seungcheol doesn’t understand why he can’t just have you back.

It’s sometime after ten-thirty when Seungcheol finally leaves Hansol and Wonwoo’s house. It’s not a long walk back to his miniscule apartment complex crammed in the middle of town, and he loves to soaks in the calm beauty belonging to the clear, star-speckled sky. He only went over to smoke after a tiresome day at his job, but he ended up staying much longer after Wonwoo revealed his game console. They took turns playing Portal and Grand Theft Auto. It was fun, a perfect way to unwind, and now Seungcheol is ready to wash up and go to bed.

He’s wearing his earphones while walking through town, listening to old songs that remind him of you, a playlist actually, one he started making before you were even together. No matter what happens – Seungcheol is always thinking about you these days. He misses you in a way that aches deeply, like his heart has been split in two by a sharp and jagged stone. In fact, while standing at an intersection, waiting for the light to glow in a walking man symbol, Seungcheol almost mistakes someone sitting at the bus bench across the street for you.

A moment passes, and he squints through the meagre lighting. Wait—that is you.

Your gaze keeps flitting nervously from the lurid phone in your hand to the dimly lit area that surrounds you. Your knee is quickly bouncing, and Seungcheol can sense at a distance how nervous you’re feeling. He doesn’t know why you’re sitting alone in the dark, but he can’t just leave you there. Instead of walking his usual route back to the apartment complex, Seungcheol approaches you, calls out your name softly as to not make you afraid. At first you respond to him with a moonfaced expression, but then you recognize his face and your heart quiets.

“Everything okay?” Seungcheol asks, taking out his earphones.

You gulp thickly and reflect a jittery smile. “Um, kinda. My boss made me stay late for closing. I tried texting my friend to pick me up, but she’s not responding.” A frozen breeze rifles through the air and you shiver. “I-I just, I don’t want to walk home alone.”

Seungcheol doesn’t hesitate to extend his hand.

“C’mon, I’ll take you.”

A grateful smile warms your face. Standing up from the cold bench, you grab Seungcheol’s hand and interlock fingers. Your address is still fresh in his mind, to which he easily navigates the streets with you beside him. At one point, a loud dog starts barking from a few blocks over and you nearly jump out from your own skin, though Seungcheol just slides his arm around your waist, gently pulling you further into his solace. He feels you instantly relax against him. An indescribable light fills his chest. To be able to make you feel safe, like he used to, it’s aweing.

“This is it, right?” Seungcheol asks upon approaching the house porch. He knows it’s right, but he waits for you to confirm it.

“You’re right.” You tell him in a tiny voice.

His hand grazes the small of your back as you walk up the steps together, stopping before the door and its weathered, white paint. A bitterness stings against Seungcheol’s throat, a truly horrible bitterness. He doesn’t want to say goodbye – he wants to stay. He wants to take you inside and wait on your bed as you get ready for the night. He wants to experience that beautiful fluttering in his stomach when you crawl into his arms and shut off the light, his hand stroking your spine as you fall asleep, your soft, slow breaths fanning against his neck.

Why does it have to hurt like this? Seungcheol hates that he’s so in love with you, but he’d never want it any other way. Even if he has to endure this pain, it’s better than never getting to know you, touch you or love you. He swallows the hot salt and gets ready to bid his goodbye.

“Sleep well, okay? Maybe I’ll see you agai—,”

Suddenly, you’re hugging Seungcheol. Your arms wrap securely around his waist and you bury your face in his neck. He takes a slight step backward, caught off guard by the blitz of affection. He hears you suck in a trembling breath, and then he feels wet, cold droplets slide against his skin. Instantly, he holds you, one hand dearly cradling the back of your head while the other passes up and down your back. You shake in his arms and he doesn’t know why. Seungcheol just hugs you tighter. If he has to, he’ll hold you for the entire night.

“S-Seungcheol,” you release his name in a sob, lifting your head from his neck. His heart beats wildly as he looks directly into your teary eyes. “I’m s-sorry.” You cry to him. “I-I’m so sorry…”

“What?” He cups your face, collecting a few thick tears with his thumb. “For what, honey?”

“E-Everything,” you hiccup, grabbing his waist tighter, “for the st-stupid fights, the p-picture, all those h-horrible things I yelled at you – I hate my-myself because of it.”

Seungcheol shakes his head and brings your face in closer to his, brown eyes glistering. “I don’t care about that. I don’t. I said horrible things too, sweetheart. I yelled at you, I told you to leave, I made you so upset, and I know exactly how you feel.” He rubs his thumb tenderly below your damp eye, and you ease into his touch. “But that was a different time. No matter what, I’m still in love with you. What happened months ago doesn’t change that. I promise.”

You sniffle back the new pearls that nearly stain your face.

“Really? Y-You still love me?”

Seungcheol leans in. He presses his forehead against yours, his fingers delicately framing your wet, warm cheek. And then he’s kissing you softly, pouring every ounce of his heart into the contact. Your hand curls around the back of his neck. You respond passionately, keeping him as near as possible, nipping gently at his bottom lip while stealing each other’s breath. Seungcheol peers directly into your gaze. It’s glassy from the tears, but also sincere and welcoming.

“I never stopped.” He says earnestly.

He feels your fingertips thread through the black silk of his hair. You kiss him again, and his grip finds the familiarity of your hips, leading you backward until you press against the door.

“I love you too.” You admit to him between every peck.

In the rising heat, you whisper against the boy’s pretty mouth, “I want you back,” to which the words engender Seungcheol’s heart to positively melt. Seungcheol knows you already have him. It doesn’t take long before you’re unlocking the door with the key beneath an ancient flowerpot. You hop into his arms, and Seungcheol catches you like it’s nothing, sitting you on top of the corridor dresser while his kisses wander further down your neck. Every whimper he hears turns him fonder. You admit again that you love him and he smiles against your skin.

Seungcheol will always need you. He hopes he always has you.

#svt scenarios #svt fanfic #seungcheol scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #seungcheol angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #svt smut #s.coups scenarios #TIME TO CRY!

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radio-ha-ha · 5 years

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tagged by the wonderful @httprjxp , and probably some other people, i’m sorry, i can’t recall, but i appreciate you a lot <3 thank you, lovies <3

Rules: answer 21 questions and tag 21 people you want to know better!

nicknames: Fidanka, Frodo, The Meme Queen, just Queen, Onion (by a good friend whom i call Garlic, we’ve been calling each other those since the 1st year at uni), there also was FaiFai

zodiac sign: Capricorn & Aquarius cusp! yes, such thing exists

height: the shortest in the fandom i reckon, 4′11″

hogwarts house: Slytherin (with some Ravenclaw influence)

last thing i googled: desert rose lol (bc of the latter reply, i wanted to listen to that song for real)

fav musicians: Queen, Muse, The Police, Royal Blood, Arctic Monkeys, Nothing But Thieves, The Last Shadow Puppets, Hozier, smth else too, i can’t remember now but the first three are my current ultimate faves. kinda gonna dig deeper concerning Pink Floyd.

song stuck in your head: nothing atm, but when i just thought of music now, Desert Rose by Sting played there

following: 1336 (HOLY CRAP, but i gotta say that i am in several fandoms, y’know, and i think about a half of those blogs i follow are inactive)

followers: idk how but 5399

do you get asks: not too many, usually when i reblog an ask game, i rarely get random asks. i get genuinely happy when you guys send me stuff, anything, a question, seek for help/advice, when you need to vent, a story, smth fun that happened to you, anything basically

amount of sleep: usually, 8-10 hours if i’m not restricted by uni and shit, but it can rly fluctuate between 2-3 to 12 hrs

lucky number: i don’t rly think i have one lol

what are you wearing: bright blue t-shirt and thin sweatpants, but i’m gonna change into my pj soon

dream job: i don’t know, but something creative. i do want to be involved in music u know, but i am not sure about that yet. medicine is also an option, i wanted to become a doctor since i was a kid. and huh i study chemical engineering. -_-

dream trip: a tour across Europe. second choice: Japan

instruments: violin and a lil bit of drums (but unfortunately i don’t play anymore)

languages: Russian, English, Azerbaijani, and a very very little bit of French, but that mustn’t even count lmao

favourite songs: don’t ask me that please they change pretty often, i am not stable about this. but okay, i am just naming random songs i reeeaally love: “King Of Pain”, “Wrapped Around Your Finger” by The Police, “Space Dementia”, “Darkshines”, “Guiding Light”, “Pressure” by Muse, “Spread Your Wings”, “Drowse”, “White Queen”, “Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy” by you-know-who, “Cherry Wine” by Hozier, “Amsterdam”, “Itch”, “Forever & Ever More” by Nothing But Thieves, “Think” by Kaleida, “Mad About You” by Hooverphonic and damn so many more

random fact: i am a sour cream maniac, i can eat everything with it. i am serious, i once tried strawberries with sour cream and loved it. oatmeal cookies too. i can eat just sour cream all day, too, just gimme an opportunity

aesthetic: the smell of rain (aka ozone), lightnings and thunder, stargazing, meadow flowers, particularly lavender, kissing hands, a lake by a forest, purple-red sunsets, opening a new book, decorative small colourful LED lights in a dark room, deep blue hair, geometric patterns idk what else tbh

thanks so much for tagging, i think imma pass this torch to @moviestorian , @bran-loaf , @littledarlingwellaway , @discoastrophysicist , @meddows-taylor , @meddrowse , @tanya-is-dead , @xox-talia-xox (certainly if you haven’t done this and if you weren’t the ones who tagged me in this before lmao [and in that case i’m so sorry and so embarrassed] ) and anyone else, who’s eager to do this! I am serious, if you wanna do this but no one has tagged you yet, consider me! i’ll be very glad to ♥♥

#tag game #thank you very very much #i haven't done any tag games for a while #i rarely do honestly #big big apologies to those who tagged me before and didn't get a response #i honestly get so many notifications i might've just not seen it

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emptynarration · 4 years

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Verses and AUs (Long Edition)

All these AUs can work with either Host or Author. I’ll write down only the Host option, though in the Human AU Author’s human name is also stated.

Most of these verses have been made from my old version of Host. Said Host is small, sort of depressed, pretty sad and soft. So the opposite of the new revamped Host. There might be differences in how I write Host due to having those two versions of Host.

I’ll make a second page for verses keeping my old version of Host in mind, which will be linked with every AU that has it.

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

Human AU [Second Version]

Host is named Markus Barker. Sometimes uses Host as nickname.

He is either: Born blind (sclera/pupil milky). Blind due to a disease (Neuromyelitis Optica).

He lives on his own with his pets. He either: Lives in his cabin in the forest. Lives on the outskirts of town with a garden.

He has an older brother (Arthur, world-wide known author).

He works on a rather popular podcast as main-narrator. He also either: Works at a radio station. Stays at home (financial help from his brother).

Can also go with human Author, the aforementioned brother of Host.

Both can also exist without brother.

Human Slave AU:

Host is named Markus Barker. Host is his nickname though

He is either: Born blind (sclera/pupil milky). Got his eyes gouged out by an owner.

He had been sold as slave when he had been a young child (around 4 y/o?).

Medieval AU: [Second Version]

Host is named Markus Barker.

He’s a servant for a noble household, with bad eyesight. He hates it there, but there’s nothing he can do if he doesn’t want to end up on the street. Even if that means being treated like dirt.

Royal AU: [Second Version]

Host is named Markus Barker.

He’s a rather young king (20-25) because his parents died in a tragic “accident”.

He’s rather strict, but very open-minded and protective of his kingdom.

He is as good as blind, only able to see colours and shapes, due to an accident as child.

in case of magic, his situation with Alden is pretty much the same, though they keep it hidden.

Neko AU: [Second Version]

He is named Host (by his mother)

He is 2'4"

He was born blind (sclera/pupil milky).

He is biologically female but identifies as male.

He was taken away from his mother from a very young age (too young to be taken away from his mother).

His first real owner mistreated him terribly.

He’s angry at the world and hates people, not afraid of them even with his very small size.

Broken Host AU:

This Host is based on the old fandom interpretation after MarkiplierTV:

Dark is at cause for taking Author’s eyes, in exchange for power.

Due to that Host is one of Dark’s “pawns” and is forced to tell him about visions and things in the future as soon as possible.

Due to basically abuse he was mentally broken by Dark.

He is extremely obedient to Dark.

He’s covered in scars and brandings (burn scars).

He doesn’t speak a lot.

He gets lost in his head, and especially in his narrations, a lot.

Angel AU:

Host is named Markus (he was once human).

His pupils are white (eyes usually covered up by a cloth)

He is a collector of souls from dying people.

He can see the souls of living beings with his eyes uncovered (but not allowed to do so technically).

His wings are white, the feather-tips golden.

Knows English more or less.

Mermaid AU: (other versions depending on size!)

Host goes by the name of Host.

He had almost been caught once by humans, which resulted in the loss of his eyesight, and thick scars over his eyes.

His scales are golden. His fins are slightly see-through, and tipped green. His ears are fins. He has fins on his underarms. He has scales on his shoulders and arms.

He has scales that glow in the dark, and markings on his face which also glow in the dark (not visible unless glowing)

He’s a siren, and thus can speak and understand English.

Underwater mermaids communicate via clicking sounds (kinda like morse code, but different).

Fairy AU: (Basically an OC shhh) (More extra info here)

Host is named Rhosyn, but may go by the name Host as well.

He is a (flower) fairy.

He can change his size, between 0.5 inches and 3 feet.

His wings are large and slightly see-through. Golden in colour, with intricate swirls covering them.

(The rest of his looks)

He lives in a small flower field he takes care of by himself.

He is blind, but has learned to see magic.

Every living thing (from humans, to fae, to plants) have magic to some amount, which he can see and tell what he is looking at.

Harpy AU

Host has no name he goes by, but will let anyone name him

He is 8 inches tall

He’s a brown thrasher harpy

He has slightly darker skin (than Mark), short, like brown fuzz on his head resembling hair; white feathers with dark spots on his chest and hips down his thighs, where his legs then turn into bird’s feet; dark brown, almost black eyes. His wings have light brown feathers.

He mainly eats fruits, berries, nuts and insects

He isn’t afraid to attack anything larger than him, going so far as to attack humans if he has to

Forest Deity AU (It’s basically an OC shh)

Host goes by the name Elvin, since the forest he lives in is called Elvin Forest (Elvin means friend of elves)

He’s 5'3 tall

He has long dark brown hair, reaching his mid-back. His eyes are the color of tree resin/amber, the colour looking different depending on the light. He has “antlers”, long branches growing from his head and upwards. They change with the season; growing leafs and flowers; but are always decorated with little trinkets. He’s always bare-footed.

He is “bound” to one tree, which would hurt and kill him if it were chopped down. But he is also the heart of the forest, feeling with it, and it feeling with him

He has magical powers, and can talk to plants, trees and animals

For the people he is something of a myth: some people pray to him, some people ask for help or advice, some don’t believe in him

Fused AU:

Host isn’t a regular ego but also is an ego

TBH I’m uncertain about the lore of this either I’d say all egos are fused or this is a punishment made by Dark or smth

Host is “fused” with his recording equipment

Headphones always on his head, microphone in a metal mask strapped over his mouth

A rig on the back of his chair connected to his arms and hands which controls his movement. He can’t stand up

(Inspired by this drawing, and how he looks like in the AU)

Little Demon AU:

Host is a demon, still called Host

He is 7 inches tall

He has dark purple horns and two tails, and no bandages, but keeps his eyes closed

Looking into his eyes will cause the looker to be pulled into their own mind and be faced with their deepest and darkest fear

Host will be able to see that and interact with the person there, but also leave them there alone to suffer

He can “teleport” short distances, mostly through shadows

Doll AU: / It’s basically an OC shhh

Host is called Benjamin

He is a porcelain doll, 20 inches tall

He is typically asleep, and only comes to life and awakens after 4-5 days of constant care and love towards him

He stays alive through the love and care and want to have him alive from his owner, but also needs to be near them

If left alone and too far away from his owner for too long, his energy will slowly vanish throughout a few days. Making him tired, sluggish, and slow, until he can’t manage to walk anymore, and then can’t keep his eyes open

He was made in 1667 and has been with 19 different people/families throughout his life

A/B/O AU: [Second Version]

If human, Host goes by Markus Barker, Host as a nickname.

He’s a little feminine looking, but due to his height, no one suspects he’s anything but an Alpha.

He’s an Omega. Takes suppressants and scent-blockers to hide this status though.

Child Host AU:

Normal Host technically, but Host is a child now.

He’s 3'3".

He looks the exact same pretty much.

He doesn’t have any memories of being an adult.

Alden is also affected by this, and is brought to a more child-like state.

Asylum AU

Host goes by the name The Host

He is locked in a cell because of hallucinations and unreliable behaviour

Eyes AU

Host still has his eyes

Author was actually more timid and nice and not lusting after power

Dark absolutely hates him because Host doesn’t let himself be manipulated

(Inspired by this picture)

Swap AU

Host is swapped with Dark

He is monochrome. He wears a black trenchcoat and black tights, as well as knee-high black combat boots. He has a bright strand of hair, no eyes, and bandages around his eyes.

Here’s some info about the swap AU and Host’s backstory

He is called Darkiplier in this AU (pronounced Dark-eplí-er? sorta french lol)

He talks in third person as a comfort mechanism

He doesn’t really have a goal like normal Dark (getting revenge on Actor) but he takes care of the other egos and keeps them safe and in check

He does his radio show still, but has no narrating powers

Forest Creature AU

Host had died in the forest wishing to be a part of it

He is still humanoid, but he is covered in moss, leafs, plants, etc, growing all over him. Flowers grew over his blind eyes.

He fell in love with Edward Iplier, but he died in his arms. He is alone.

Banished Author AU

Author was banished into the void by Dark due to Dark believing Author would grow to become very dangerous towards himself and others

He had been stuck in the void, all by himself, for years

Being stuck in the void, he doesn’t physically age, and has no bodily needs

The void seeped into him, mixed with him, changing him

While he still has his powers of writing, and they are still primarily that, the void is a part of him now in a way

Little Space: (nsfw-ish)

Normal verse Host

In headspace he’s either around 1 year or around 4-6 years old

He usually is alone in his room to be little on his own

He largely prefers to be diapered and wear soft clothes

#the other is speaking #blog rules

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