#there's also a baking class that only meets once a week for like 6 hours into the night ? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

willowbird · 3 years

Note

prompt: aaron had a slight ED that he developed as a kid and is now being noticeable to the rest of the foxes even andrew and nicky kinda knew he forgot to eat but the stress from school and exy makes it worse....

I could easily expand on this and maybe one day I will. It hits kinda close to home tho so I’m going to err on the side of brevity just for my own mental space. Thank you so much for the ask! I hope this is what you’re looking for ❤️ ❤️ Take care of yourselves!

Warnings for depression, eating disorder.

Edit: this has been expanded and can also be found on my ao3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Ao3

-----

Wednesday | 6:04am

The alarm was screaming.

Its cries crashed against his senses like sea-storm waves and Aaron was without shelter. The sound had been crowding him for four minutes now, and he still couldn't lift a hand to make it stop -- even though he was perfectly aware and wide awake. He wanted to stop the sound, he needed the quiet back, but for whatever reason his hand just wouldn't listen to his brain no matter how many times he willed it to move.

Aaron hated days like this.

Wednesday | 8:43am

Nicky slung his arm around Aaron’s shoulders, a grin plastered on his face. His hair was slicked back like a low-budget greaser, halfway between wet and just damp. They’d just finished morning practice and he, Nicky, and Kevin were waiting out in the player’s lobby for Neil and Andrew to finish showering and changing so they could leave.

“Aw man, I am hungry. Please tell me that Andrew and Neil are gonna finish up soon so that we can go get a real breakfast.” Nicky's whining was easy enough to ignore most of the time, but today Aaron was tired and his patience was thin. He had three tests to study for, two essays to write, they had a game coming up on Friday, and Aaron didn't have the bandwidth for Nicky, too.

He shruged his cousin off with a snort. "I'm just gonna hitch a ride to the library." There were still a few hours before his first class of the day, and he needed to use that time for something productive.

"Aww, c'mon Aaron come to breakfast with us! We'll drop you at the library when we're done. It won't take too long!"

"What won't take too long?" When Aaron looked over, he saw Neil and Andrew coming out of the locker room, clean and changed.

"Breakfast!" Nicky announced. "Neil, tell Aaron to join us! It's a family breakfast -- he should be there!"

"You can't just label things "family" events as a way to require people to be there," Kevin said with a long-suffering sigh. Even so, Aaron noticed he already had the menu of their usual breakfast joint pulled up on his phone. The pictures of pancakes topped with glistening syrup and fluffy omelets made his stomach clench in an unpleasant way.

Aaron looked away.

"I've got a shit to do," he said. That would be his final word on it, and to demonstrate, Aaron turned to head toward the doors.

Except Andrew had moved to block him, though Aaron hadn't registered when his twin had circled them. Aaron frowned, lifting his chin in challenge.

Andrew just studied him for a long moment before looking just past Aaron, gaze darting over his shoulder to the others behind him. He lifted a hand and a second later a slim object snapped into it. When Andrew then held it out to him, Aaron saw it was a granola bar.

A quick glance over his shoulder exposed the granola bar thrower as Kevin, who was zipping his backpack shut. They matched gazes briefly and Kevin nodded toward the granola bar in Andrew's hand.

"If you aren't going to come to breakfast with us make sure you get something on your way to the library."

Aaron glared at him, then rolled his eyes and turned back to his brother. Andrew just looked at him, expression blank, and continued to hold out the damn granola bar like he could stand there all day without a care in the world.

A flash of resentment boiled through him. Of course Andrew could stand there so fucking unbothered. Barely anything affected him at all.

With an annoyed huff, Aaron snatched the bar out of Andrew's hand and shoved it into his pocket before stalking out of the building.

Wednesday | 1:15pm

Katelyn ❤️ (13:15): Hey baby! Prof Dixon bailed again ~ you free?

Aa. Min. (13:15): McCallister's?

Katelyn ❤️ (13:16): See u in 5! 😘

Wednesday | 1:23pm

Aaron stood inside the confused cacophony that was McCallister's, an on-campus restaurant that was the love child of a deli and a pub but four times too big, regretting his choices.

It wasn't even the noise that was bothering him the most. It was the smell.

Aaron took two steps into the restaurant and his stomach roiled. It twisted and tightened, curling in on itself in disgust at the sharp, slimy stench of cold cut deli meat cushioned on a waft of double-baked potatoes that filled the restaurant like wildfire's haze. He and Katelyn met here for lunch two or three times a week when their schedules lined up. They both liked the food and they had several corner booths where they could hide in and study together after eating. It was one of their favorite places. But right now, Aaron was fighting not to gag.

“Aaron!” Relief warred with dread at the sound of Katelyn’s voice and he hastily plastered on an imitation of the smile he usually didn’t even have to think about, that always rose to his lips whenever she was around all on its own. It didn’t today, but for Katelyn he could make the effort. For Katelyn, Aaron could do anything.

He turned around once that smile was fixed in place and wrapped his arms around her when she joined him, indulging in a quick kiss that soothed some of the nausea churning in his gut. When they broke apart, Aaron turned to lead them toward their usual booth but Katelyn stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Babe is everything alright?” Worry painted a crease between her eyebrows, her mouth drawn down as she studied him.

Most days, Katelyn’s concern warmed him. It made him feel seen and loved and cherished. Today it put a slash of anxiety through his lungs, breath seeping out through the cut and concaving his chest under the weight of her scrutiny.

Aaron arranged his smile into something tired and unalarmed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a long week, y’know?”

Katelyn hummed like she wasn’t sure she believed him but was deciding to trust him anyway, then she smiled and she released his arm only to take his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “Alright, then let’s get some lunch and shut out the rest of the world for at least a little bit, yeah?”

The smell of the restaurant was still choking him and even his skin felt tight. The absolute last thing he wanted to do right now was stay there another second, let alone the hour he had until he needed to think about heading to his next class.

“I’m so sorry Kate, I’ve got to meet with the TA for my history class. I remembered right after I texted you but I still wanted to see you so I figured I’d just tell you when you got here.” He offered an apologetic smile and did his best to ignore the way guilt was now mixing uncomfortably well with the sick already sloshing around in his stomach. Aaron did not like lying to Katelyn, it felt wrong. But he also couldn’t... he couldn’t explain what was wrong with him right now -- not because he didn’t know, but because he was sure explaining it was going to make him sound crazy and that was just the last thing he needed right now. It was better to slip away, go somewhere he could focus on homework or something and just... wait for it to pass.

Katelyn’s expression fell, flashing disappointment, then a sad understanding as she nodded. “Of course. It’s okay babe, really. I’m just glad I got to see you at all.” She smiled then -- that bright, warm, just-for-him smile that always had Aaron’s heart skipping. A small knot of tension loosened in his lower chest, just enough that he was able to take a small breath and offer a more genuine smile of his own in return.

“I love you,” he told her.

“I love you too, Aaron. Take care of yourself and I’ll see you later, okay?”

He made no promises before he made his escape, just a smile and a wave.

Wednesday | 3:37pm

The granola bar tasted like ash in his mouth. It felt like there were iron weights attached to his jaw, making it impossible for him to chew. A fist of repulsion locked around his throat, and it was a physical struggle to swallow.

This was the worst part about days like this.

Aaron knew he had to eat something, because he knew what could happen if he didn’t and the only thing worse than having to put up with feeling this way, dragging himself through the mud of his own psychosis one step, one mile, at a time -- was doing it with everyone watching him struggle.

So he forced himself through half the granola bar. He knew better than to push for more than that, or all his efforts would be wasted into the nearest trash can.

Wednesday | 7:51pm

Practice had been brutal. It had been so bad that even Nicky hadn’t been able to cheer himself through it and was just as bitter and on edge as the rest of them by the time they hit the showers.

Aaron sat in the lobby and waited for the others, feeling old. He felt tired. He just wanted these stupid pissing contests to stop and everyone to shut up. He wanted the world to be completely silent, completely empty. Emptiness sounded nice. Sounded peaceful. Sounded right.

The sharp scuff of shoe-rubber against tile had him cringing so hard his shoulders ached and he peeled his eyes open to glare at the source. Andrew stood there, hands in his pockets, blank-faced and too knowing.

Aaron snorted and looked away.

The couch shifted slightly as Andrew took the spot next to him. There was the soft shk of a blade cutting into something crisp and when Aaron looked over, Andrew was holding out a small sliver of apple. His brother wasn’t looking at him. Instead, the other Minyard was dispassionately staring at the tv, which was playing some sports channel that Aaron knew very well Andrew didn’t give a single shit about.

For a long moment Aaron just stared at the side of his twin’s face, but it was impossible to know what, if anything, he was thinking about. Finally, he looked at the sliver of apple. It was pale, small, unobtrusive. Aaron’s stomach clenched, a mix between hunger and repulsion. All he’d had today was that half a granola bar -- which had been both too much and not enough. His throat tightened as he stared at that innocuous slice of fruit, but he was almost focused more on the hand holding it. His eyes burned and he looked away, but not before taking the slice.

#aftg #aftg fanfic #tw: depression #tw: eating disorder #tw: ed #aaron minyard #andrew minyard #twinyards #of course i made it a twinyard drabble #because i'm a sucker for the boys supporting each other #going into a small headcanon in the tags here #i hc andrew struggles with food #similar to what aaron goes through here #but more intense #because he has a very complex relationship with food #based on his past #and then the manifestation of his depression does not help #i actually have a wip based on this #from andrew's pov #where we see him dealing with his ed #and the way the monsters support him through it #sometimes his ed crops up due to his depression #and sometimes its separate #anyway #this was an unnecessary a/n in the tags here #but that's why andrew took the approach he did in the drabble #because how he treats aaron in this is how he needs to be handled when he has his own episodes

79 notes · View notes

suzey8888 · 3 years

Text

“I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history. If you remember the plot of the Sound of Music, the Von Trapp family escaped over the Alps rather than submit to the Nazis. Kitty wasn’t so lucky. Her family chose to stay in her native Austria. She was 10 years old, but bright and aware. And she was watching. “We elected him by a landslide – 98 percent of the vote,” she recalls. She wasn’t old enough to vote in 1938 – approaching her 11th birthday. But she remembers. “Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.” No so. Hitler is welcomed to Austria “In 1938, Austria was in deep Depression. Nearly one-third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25 percent inflation and 25 percent bank loan interest rates. Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren’t any jobs. “My mother was a Christian woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big kettle of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.’ “We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933.” she recalls. “We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living. “Nothing was ever said about persecution of any group – Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone in Germany was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back. “Ninety-eight percent of the population voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler. “We were overjoyed,” remembers Kitty, “and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and everyone was fed. “After the election, German officials were appointed, and, like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service. “Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able-bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn’t support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been required to give up for marriage. “Then we lost religious education for kids “Our education was nationalized. I attended a very good public school.. The population was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn’t pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,’ and had physical education. “Sunday became National Youth Day with compulsory attendance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were told that if they did not send us, they would receive a stiff letter of warning the first time. The second time they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third time they would be subject to jail.” And then things got worse. “The first two hours consisted of political indoctrination. The rest of the day we had sports. As time went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free. “We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful time we had. “My mother was very unhappy,” remembers Kitty. “When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn’t do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly

any fun – no sports, and no political indoctrination. “I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing. “Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that time, unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler. “It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As time went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn’t exposed to that kind of humanistic philosophy. “In 1939, the war started, and a food bank was established. All food was rationed and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same time, a full-employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ration card, and, if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death. “Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and often had to take jobs more suited for men. “Soon after this, the draft was implemented. “It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps,” remembers Kitty. “During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys. “They were trained to be anti-aircraft gunners and participated in the signal corps. After the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines. “When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emotional cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat. “Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid attack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service. “When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers. “You could take your children ages four weeks old to school age and leave them there around-the-clock, seven days a week, under the total care of the government. “The state raised a whole generation of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this time, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had. “Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna.. “After Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything. “When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already waiting and, at the same time, the hospitals were full. “If you needed elective surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors left Austria and emigrated to other countries. “As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80 percent of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families. “All day care and education were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tuition was subsidized. Everyone was entitled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing. “We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother-in-law owned a restaurant that had square tables. “Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have additional bathroom facilities. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn’t meet all the demands. “Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control. “We had consumer protection, too “We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essentially abolished. We had a planning agency

specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the livestock, and then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it. “In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated. “So people intermarried and offspring were sometimes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work. “I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others getting into a van. “I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an institution where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a little clause that they could not visit for 6 months. “They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness. “As time passed, letters started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people left in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia. “Next came gun registration. People were getting injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we still had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most citizens were law-abiding and dutifully marched to the police station to register their firearms. Not long afterwards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authorities already knew who had them, so it was futile not to comply voluntarily. “No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up. “Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 until 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, little by little eroded our freedom.” “This is my eyewitness account. “It’s true. Those of us who sailed past the Statue of Liberty came to a country of unbelievable freedom and opportunity. “America is truly is the greatest country in the world. “Don’t let freedom slip away. “After America, there is no place to go.” Kitty Werthmann ***Re-read the part where she says “everything was free” - healthcare and so on. Very much worth reading twice.****

2 notes · View notes

oh-theres-a-woman · 4 years

Text

Blood Doilies; Part Three

A/N: Warnings for mentions of abuse and abusive relationships. Please read at your own discretion. The next chapter will also have the same warning. I understand that such topics can be triggering to some people, this is pure to show what the Female Reader has experienced in married life and her breaking away from that with the aid of the Blinders. Once more thank you for taking the time to read this story, feel free to reblog or comment if you’re enjoying this.

Taglist: @zodiyack , @itsfrancisneptun , @shelbys-we-get-the-job-done, @amy-booxx & @fandom-fucking-shit

Parts: [ 1 ] , [ 2 ], [ 4 ], [ 5 ], [ 6 ], [ 7 ], [ 8 ], [ 9 ]

Pairing: Thomas Shelby X Female Reader

Word Count: 1923

▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫

You set the tea down on the coffee table noticing the children had both fallen asleep on Mister Shelby’s knee. Offering a smile at the sleeping children. Whispering softly that you could take the children to bed, Thomas simply rose to his footing. Carrying both the children upstairs, calmly following him. Showing the beds for each child. Annabeth curled up into a ball with her little dolly looking absolutely smitten and at peace. Leaning down you kissed the little girl’s head, smoothing the messy mop of hair away from her face. Pulling the blankets up to her shoulders, brushing the back of your knuckle lovingly over her cheek.

Repeating the same action for Marcus, knowing that he’d need another feeding in a few hours time. “You’re a good mother, you do so much for your children,” Thomas said observantly from the door watching on with silent awe. Aunt Pol had always warmed someplace in his heart at her mothering but it had been a time since all the Shebly children had ground. Now the mothering seemed like a nagging.

Maybe it was the war that changed him but watching you at that moment. He didn’t see the harshness of his own upbringing. But the solid foundations of nurturing and admiration. Tommy didn’t quite remember the loving gaze of his mother, only her death. It had been the first of many lives that were lost. Charlie Strong had been the replacement when his father walked out of them and Pol took the helm of mothering. Swift in her workings and proved very stern for the young Sheblys’ that were left like orphans before she swooped in.

However, you were a different case. There was something about your maternal instincts that caused Thomas to stop a moment. Admire the qualities of a woman. The way in your wounds and bruises from an abusive husband, no matter the pain. You carried on your task of being a mother never let anything go to chance or mess with you. Easily smoothing a hand over baby Marcus’s locks whose were just like your own. Beautifully soft with a slight wave in the front. Tucking your son in, you watched him for a moment listening to his breathing, the little snores that left his buzzing button nose.

Thomas and yourself wandered back downstairs to the tea. Looking at each other for a moment. The narrow stairs led to you brushing hands in the walk. Causing you steps to falter for one moment. However, the Blinder once more found his seat again. Marking the page he had been reading to the children as if he’d continue that story for them another time. Picking up his teacup, he added some cream and one sugar. Stirring with the provided teaspoon then offering the spoon to you. Carefully, you poured the creamer not adding any sugar. Enjoying the strength of the tea. Lips slightly pursed together, glancing back to Thomas Shelby again. “Thank you for offering my family this safe house for the time until we get our lives back on track,” you said with a warm blush on your cheeks.

“It is alright, Mrs [Y/N],” Thomas said in a swift and noble tone of voice. Leaning back into his chair observing you. “The Peaky Blinders don’t take kindly to men who bash into their women and children.” Thomas’s words sparked a cool murderous rage in him. His eyes were like a cool fire, burning hotter than any red flame you’d seen in your lifetime. Glancing down at the marks that riddled your body and all that was hidden under your clothes. You hadn’t remembered a day where things weren’t thrown or fists were flying. Once upon a time, it was a social norm for a husband to beat his wife.

“I’ve had it happen all my life, my father was a drunk and my mother a prostitute. I don’t really know any better…” You admitted in a defeated manner. Clenching your fists on your legs thinking about the life you led. “But, I want this cycle to end. Because if I let this keep happening, it’ll only happen to my children and they won’t know how to respect each other or their future loved ones.” Deep down you knew this was the right thing, the sudden separation to make sure no more harm would come to yourself or the children if your husband overstepped his normal range of violence.

“Do you need my help in any way of separating from the man, because once you're divorced of him that debt owed is only on him. I don’t believe in wives cleaning up their husband’s debts when they have a family to protect. By those marks too, I’d believe you’ve been looking over them for some time too.” Mister Shelby said, reaching into his coat pocket, procuring a silver cigarette case. Opening it and offering you one with a slight incline of his arm. Reaching out you picked up one of the expensive tailor-made, always used to the harsh rolling without a filter.

Placing the stick of nicotine in between your lips, that were chapped and broken from a hit. Picking up a matchbook from the table lighting up your cigarette, then leaning out to light Thomas’s. He leant into the flame. The small light of the match burning embers of life at the end of the neatly rolled tobacco. Watching the embers eat at the paper when Tommy puffed. The flame licking at your fingertips were lighting the sharper features of the Shelby before you, causing a feeling of enchantment to pull over you.

Tingling burns at your fingertips, causing you to finally shake the match and drop it into the ashtray. Settling back into your seat letting out a calm inhale and sighing softly. The sitting room clouded with an illusion-like smoke cloud. Giving a new atmosphere to the room. Like it wasn’t heavy in the topics of conversation. The stress had been disbursed in to the air, exhaled with the carbon-dioxide and smoke through lips and nostrils.

“I need to find a way to get divorced from him, I know it’d help my case that we’re living separately from one another. It would be a year’s process at the longest, I’d need to find a way to keep the tea house. My own business… I don’t want to lose it to him. Need some form of income to keep a roof over the wee ones’ heads.” You muttered, flicking the ash into the crystal tray on the table. Wondering in all seriousness how much it cost to buy because it was impeccable. Everything in the Watery Lane home was beautifully charming and way out of your price range.

“I’m hoping to get settled then go back to work, have a friend lookout for the kids.” You said to the man, who seemed to offer a small nod. Knowing the modest little establishment in your ownership. By far considered the loveliest tea shop in Small Heath, it had charm and class to the small little shop. He’d remembered Ada gushing over it opening some years ago, by a beautiful young woman that had the dream to do so. Through the proper means, she opened the shop by herself. Even without her husband’s help. This seemed like an even biggest motivator for Tommy’s little sister feminist ideals.

“Given your current condition, I’d recommend your healing before heading back to work. Keeping a low-profile due to your husband’s likely retaliation to your left with the children. For your safety, I’d advise you take a week at the least, then return to work. I or one of the Blinders will be there to escort you home after.” Thomas took a swift to inhale of his cigarette. He didn’t know why he was so adamant to protect you. Normally the Blinders would help get rid of the trouble and then recoil. Yet, deep down he knew it's because he’d seen what the government and church would do if they caught wind of things happening.

You’d lose your children. Thomas didn’t want to see that happen, because you’d taken responsibility for your husband’s debt and tried to clear it up. Even in such a state that you were in. Trying to protect the little family you’d been in. Keeping those well-behaved children in line, working the long hours that he found out on an investigation prior. Where your morning shift could start as early as four-five o’clock in the morning for the baked goods. Then until closing hours in the evening. A short break in between to take your children home, giving the neighbour a break.

Only to have most of the money earnt wasted on your husband’s addictions and there were plenty of them. Never in a million years did he even expect anyone at that meeting today. But, there you were to shock him. Taking time out of your day, to see him and try to make things right. Surprisingly, it gave Tommy a little bit of hope for some of the women in this day and age. So, the patriarch of the Shelby family sat there and discussed with you into the long hours of the night. Things were arranged for your meeting with a solicitor under the guidance of Polly Gray. Moral support. Plus, everyone seemed to be as scared of her as they were with Tommy. Bonus.

***********

The following days passed quickly with everything being prepared. Marks began to fade on your skin and it restored some of your lacking confidence. You felt happier in the safe house. Not because of the fancy layout because your children were happy, they were settling in nicely. The Shelbys’ came to visit enough. John Shelby bought over his children someday and they all played while business and things were attended to. More often than not it meant walking in on the children all snuggled up on each other and napping; after having an argument or fight. Everything was sorted with a simple nap together, then they were as good as rain. It made you often wish that adults were as simple as children.

By the following Monday, you were returning to work. Your workers had been running the ship well and left things in perfect condition. It was nice to see the faces of the customers again. Hours were long like normal, but that’s how you enjoyed working. Things were peaceful and you didn’t feel an ounce of stress because Thomas had promised to come to pick you up after work and walk you home. It was safe… Well, that’s what you thought.

Hours passed by swiftly and you finished the till counting after hours in the office. The last thing was to do the bins. When you were collecting the bins. Wandering in the dark alley, tossing things into the larger bins outside for landfill. You were so focused on your task that the sound of someone sneaking up on you escaped your knowledge. A rough hand, the smell of hard liquor and cigars filled your nostrils. You knew that scent from anywhere. Your husband.

He holds a hold on you, smothering your screams of utter terror and pinning your body against the firmness of his body. “It’s not nice to say goodbye in a letter,” he whispered in your ear with vile intent. Holding out in front of you, the wedding band you letter on the letter. Forcefully sliding it back onto your finger as tears fell.

228 notes · View notes

shes-ddreaming · 4 years

Text

the eyes that lost you ➸ lee donghyuck

✧ destination ↬ best friends to lovers + fluff, angst,,, all that jazz yak

✧ a party of two for ↬ lee donghyuck x reader

✧ duration of flight ↬ 2.5k

✧ in stereo ↬ exo - what if

✧ in which your best friend donghyuck decides to pretend to be someone else’s boyfriend, leaving you to confront the only thing you’ve been avoiding your whole life—your feelings for him.

donghyuck had confessed to you a long time ago. and if you only knew that you’d be hurting like this now, you would’ve said yes to him in a heartbeat. but you didn’t; you had decided that your friendship was more important than anything, rejecting your best friend’s confession.

he took your rejection lightly, telling you that your friendship was just as important to him as it was to you. “look, y/n, i love you not because i had any intention of making you my girlfriend, but because... i love you for .. you. and if you’d much rather stay friends, then i’m all for it. i’ll be your best friend—whatever you want me to be, i’ll be.” he was sincere, and you appreciated that more than anything. you were more than grateful that donghyuck understood your reasoning behind the rejection.

and a day later, things went right back to normal, never a moment of awkwardness. he was still the same best friend you’ve had since you came out of the womb. it was as if his confession never happened.

and that’s all it took for you to make lee donghyuck your best friend for life. he was your constant, the one person in your life who has always stayed by your side. so many of your friends have come and gone, but donghyuck wasn’t one of them.

here you were, not even 3 years later, your eyes were on your best friend whose hair has grown a little longer from how it was when he confessed. he’s a lot taller now, standing a good 6 inches or so above you. it seems like a lot about him has changed, and his feelings for you were not an exception. but there was one thing that could never change, and that was you being his best friend.

the object of his lingering glances is no longer you, but it just had to be kang mina. you weren’t surprised—she was annoyingly pretty, smart, and funny. not only that, she happened to be the class president. donghyuck? vice president. everyone called them a match made in heaven. you hated how you felt when he was around her. you hated how your heart would fall every time you caught sight of him stealing glances at her. it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair to donghyuck. what right do you have to catch feelings for him when you let him suffer from his feelings for you for so long?

the guilt had eaten you up for a long time. you liked to believe that your suffering now was your way to repay the pain you caused donghyuck for liking you without any reciprocation all those years.

he always reminded you that he was alright with the way you two were, that you rejecting him didn’t hurt him as much as you thought it did, that he was glad you two were best friends. but it was hard to ignore his obvious feelings for you. you knew deep down that you were hurting him by staying friends, but he never complained. he quietly loved you until he developed feelings for someone else.

it was your turn to realize your feelings, only now it’s too late. you’re in love with your best friend but he’s in love with someone else.

however, it probably wouldn’t hurt as bad if he hadn’t been fake dating her. maybe then you wouldn’t see him in so much pain. you couldn’t bear to witness seeing him doing anything and everything for her when she doesn’t even feel the same way, just like he did for you.

“you’re a hypocrite,” mark says as you bore your heart and soul to him. these days, donghyuck sits with mina at lunch to continue to play the little charade they’ve been onto for weeks. mark lee has been your rock these past few months, always quietly listening to you and offering—what he would call—words of wisdom. you couldn’t count how many times you’ve gone to him to talk about your conflicting feelings about donghyuck. “be honest with me. is the fact that you’re no longer the object of lee donghyuck’s desire the driving force of what you think are your feelings for him?”

leave it to mark lee to be brutally honest with his stupid rhetorical questions. you sigh, putting your head down on the cafeteria table. you were a shitty person, a terrible, shitty person. you feel your lunch tray being moved away from your head. “do i have lettuce in my hair?” mark laughs at you, slapping your shoulder in the process.

“you did. but, i took it off of your hair, dumbass,” he softly pats your head like one would do to a crying toddler. “look, i’m sorry if that was a little mean. i hope i didn’t hurt your feelings or anything.”

“nah, it just got me thinking. do you think i’m projecting my desires of wanting a

boyfriend onto hyuck? or maybe i’m friend-jealous and i’m mistaking it for being in love with him?” you once again steal a glance at the boy who has been all over your thoughts lately and your heart disagreed. whatever these feelings were, they’re definitely not friend-jealousy or whatever mark had called it. you knew in your heart that you loved him.

“oh god i wanna die, i want to actually fucking die.”

mark has this amused look on his face as he helps you pack up once the bell rings for 4th period. “stop thinking about it for now, alright? we can get ice cream after school, it’s on me. i think i owe you.” he takes the textbook you were holding out of your hands and carries it for you, as he reaches his hand out for your backpack. you roll your eyes, taking it off and handing it to him. this was beginning to be a routine for you two whenever you’re sad. mark never lets you carry anything and always walked you to class.

“what did i do to deserve a mark lee?” you wonder out loud, followed by a kick to your shin from mark. you immediately took back what you said. “suddenly i don’t remember ever being friends with a kid named mark.” you hear his obnoxiously loud laugh and shake your head.

“shut up, loser!”

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: KDKDKD come heRE

[you questioned: “KDKDKD come heRE”]

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: STOP DOING THOSE REACTION THINGS AND REPLY FJDKDKDKD

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: PLEASE Y/N OH MY GOD

you: WHAT

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: pls come down to my floor rn i need sugar

you: what the fuck

[full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖 disliked “what the fuck”]

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: I PROMISE YOU’LL GET TO HAVE SOME OF THE COOKIES I BAKE

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: I RAN OUT OF SUGAR I NEED YOUR ASSISTANCE 😔🙏🏽

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: I HAVE A COUNCIL MEETING IN LIKE 2 HOURS AND I NEED TO HAVE THE COOKIES DONE BY THEN

you: oh shit i just checked i dont have any sugar

[full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖 disliked “oh shit i just checked i dont have any sugar”]

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: god why didn’t apple give the people™ the option to disheart something

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: you had one job

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: ONE JOB

you: KDKSKSKS IM SORRY LMFAO

you: ALSO I DONT EVEN THINK DISHEART IS THE RIGHT TERM FOR IT

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: come to the grocery store w me 🥺👉🏽👈🏽

you: fine 😔

“hey, neighbor!” you hear donghyuck yell from his door as you hold the button that keeps the elevator doors open.

you can already hear mark arguing “you two technically aren’t even neighbors! he lives like two floors below you!”

while donghyuck counters back saying, “yeah but if she lived on my floor then we would live right next door to each other!” you can recall this exact confrontation when the three of you were in 3rd grade.

you and donghyuck have lived in the same apartment building your whole lives—which is also a big reason as to how the pair of you reached best friend status.

“let’s go before the sun starts setting!” he was smiling as he ran towards you and you couldn’t even deny that your heart was doing backflips.

“hurry up before i let go of this button and leave you there,” you threaten him and he laughs, pretending to walk in slow motion. you let go of the button and the elevator doors begin to close in on each other, prompting a loud gasp from donghyuck as he runs as fast as he can to reach the doors before they close completely.

“y/n, what the fuck!” he cries once he reaches the doors and they open back up again. he had his hands on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath and you couldn’t contain your laughter. “i hate you, oh my god! i busted a lung out there trying to catch up to the elevator. i can’t believe you’d do that to me.” you were both laughing now and you watched as he pretended to sob.

the doors of the elevator opened back up once you reached the lobby and donghyuck takes this as an opportunity to run away from you to get to his car before you could beat him there.

he had his payback when he locked the doors before you could even open the door to his car, leaving you there for a good two minutes, yelling “karma, bitch!” before finally letting you in.

“you’re insane!” he just laughs at this, and you two call a truce to stop pulling pranks on each other for the duration of your grocery trip.

“alright, alright. i’ll go drop the sugar off to my house and i’ll meet you at the rooftop,” you nod, waving goodbye to him as he steps foot off the elevator with the grocery bag in his hand and you continue up to the penthouse floor.

you really didn’t know if this was legal. if you were being honest, you had a feeling you were putting your parents’ lease on the line every time you snuck onto the rooftop. you made your way out of the penthouse floor, opening the doors to the fire escape before you were finally met with the stairs that lead up to the rooftop.

you smiled as you looked up to the sky with its various shades of blue, purple, and pink. it was your senior year of high school and you knew you’d miss this once you left home.

you: HURRY UP THE SUN IS SETTING REAL QUICK

you: it’S NOT GONNA WAIT FOR YOUR SLOW ASS

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: FUCK FUCK FUCK WAIT IM PUTTING THE COOKIES IN THE OVEN FIRST

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: TELL THE SUN TO SLOW DOWN 😤😤 damn even the sun has no pATIENCE

you: damn riGHT so if you don’t hurry up you’re gonna miss it 😔

full sun (the best friend) 🌞💖: ALR ALR THEY’RE IN THE OVEN I’M USAIN BOLTING OUTTA HERE

and usain bolt, he did. donghyuck soon opened the doors out of the fire escape, finally getting a glimpse of the sky as the sun started to set. you seemed to have not noticed him, eyes focused upwards onto the sky.

he stopped in his tracks. donghyuck liked to think he no longer had any feelings for you. “not even any residue,” he would tell himself. but he couldn’t lie that there were some moments that he’d wish you had felt the same way as he once did. this exact moment would make it on that list. you looked cute. your small figure was a good ten feet away from him but despite the distance, he just knew there was no other place you’d rather be at the moment.

“finally!” you yell as he made your way towards you. “i was ready to lasso the sun and keep it here until you got your ass up here.”

he was staring at you, a small smile adorning his features. if the word fond could be personified, it would probably be this exact face he was making.

you finally let go of the breath you had been holding when his eyes leave your face and instead focus onto the sky. “god i’m gonna miss this.”

“the sky? i was thinking the exact-“

“no, us.” oh shit. oh shit. oh shit. you couldn’t even look at him. god, you were blushing like crazy and you prayed that he didn’t notice because you knew you were being crazy obvious right now. “i’m gonna miss us sneaking onto the rooftop to watch the sunset, you know? it’s just- i don’t know. senior year ending has made me become more... sad? i don’t think that’s the right word for it. nostalgic? maybe. every moment just has this sense of finality to it and that scares me.”

you were about to reply, but you were immediately cut off by the sound of his phone ringing. “hey, mina.”

and just as icarus flew too close to the sun, so did you heart. and now you felt it falling straight down to the sea. you didn’t bother to listen to the rest of his conversation on the phone. instead, you watched the sun while it painted the buildings a brilliant shade of golden yellow and casted a shadow onto the trees. but the view of the buildings could never compete with donghyuck as his tanned skin glowed in the golden sunlight and his eyes twinkled in a different shade of brown.

“crap, i almost forgot about my council meeting. i have to go pick up mina, too,” he had a small frown on his face and you giggled. lee donghyuck, how could you be so cute? “are you gonna be okay up here? i’m gonna go get the cookies ready. i’ll leave some at your door, as promised.”

you reject donghyuck’s offer of walking you to your door, telling him that you just wanted to stay here for a little while longer.

mork 🤢: damn senior year rly be hitting different 😩😔😫💦

you: MARK WTF JDDJDJ YOUR EMOJIS GTFO

mork ��: y/n i have a story omg facetime me #storytime

mork 🤢: i think my life is starting to become a coming of age movie LMAO

you smile as you read mark’s texts, telling him you’ll facetime him once you get back home. he was right though; senior year really did feel different, and it forced you to confront feelings you’d much rather keep buried, especially in the lee donghyuck department of your heart.

hello! if you made it this far, then thank you 🥺 tbh i was reALLY SCARED TO POST THIS IDK I HAVEN’T ACTUALLY WRITTEN ANYTHING IN AWHILE !! this WILL be continued so stay tuned !! 💖 kjdfakjl also aren’t we all just tryna be hyuck’s best friend 😔✊🏽

#haechan #lee donghyuck #donghyuck x reader #haechan x reader #haechan au #lee donghyuck x reader #lee haechan x reader #donghyuck au #ee.doc

109 notes · View notes

pepperonijem · 4 years

Text

I. Plus One || Count on Me

I. Plus One → Count on Me masterlist

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: none, this is just fluff I guess. Or, pre-fluff???

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: .The beginning of it all. What else is there to say? (College AU)

A/N: I wrote this for @sebbbystaaan‘s 500 writing challenge! Thanks for letting me participate in this! :) My prompt was “Hey, we do what we do best. We improvise, all right?” from Fast and Furious 6. This is part one of a mini series!

“Alright, I’ll see you guys in two weeks,” the professor shouted over the cacophony of laptops being shut and backpacks opening. “Enjoy your spring break everyone!”

Peter let out a sigh of relief, thankful that this was he didn’t have to worry about calculus for the next week. He packed up his notebook and followed the exodus into the halls of the building. Peter paused by the small couch by the elevators, deciding to sit down and wait for the crowd to diminish rather than fight for a spot in the overcrowded elevator.

Unlike most of his classmates, Peter was in no rush to get out of the building. He had no plans to go back home over the week-long break. Happy and Aunt May were on a small vacation of their own and with Ned’s spring break not being until a few weeks later, Peter had made the decision to just stay on campus for the week. Peter’s big plans for the week mostly consisted of seeing how quickly he can learn to solve a Rubiks cube, and then maybe trying out the game he just bought, something about farming?

He passively scanned the bulletin board behind him, trying to pass the time as more people flooded the hall. Guitar classes, babysitting gigs, research studies, the usual. His eyes passed over each flyer but stopped on a sheet of notebook paper, hastily handwritten, with accents of neon highlighters around a phone number.

FAKE DATE NEEDED FOR A WEDDING. RSVP 555-0120. I’LL PAY YOU $50 AND YOU GET A FREE MEAL. SERIES INQUIRIES ONLY!!

Peter let out a chuckle and noticed that the date was this Friday. Figuring he had nothing better to do anyway, he pulled out his phone and began typing in the number, not realizing it was already in his phone.

(Y/N) from class

His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to remember what class he had you in, until a silly memory of a conversation the two of you had about trying to insert as many Spongebob references into your presentation as possible. Oh right, he recalled. She was in that French class I took last year. Your professor had assigned you to project groups at the beginning of the semester based on who you were sitting with, and it just so happened that you were the only two people who sat at the front row.

The first project you and Peter had together was an oral presentation in which you had to have a conversation in front of the whole class. The morning of the presentation, you and Peter noticed everyone else rehearsing and carrying out extensive scenes, whereas the two of you had agreed to wing it, not thinking seriously about the project at all. Funny enough, your presentation went smoothly, scoring high marks for the both of you. By the end of the semester, you two had become somewhat friendly with each other in class, but unfortunately, because you two were in different majors, it was the last class you had together.

Although Peter would never admit it, he was disappointed in himself for not ever asking you to hang out outside of the class. But now, he finally had a chance to do something about it.

Once he got back to his dorm, Peter dropped his backpack on the floor and flopped on his bed. He pulled out his phone and typed out a message, analyzing every word to make it sound as casual as possible.

Hey (Y/N), it’s Peter! We had French together last year. Um, I saw your flyer outside of my class, about the wedding. Do you still need a date? I don’t have any plans this break so uh, I thought why not?

Before he could think too hard about his wording, he hit send and set his phone face down in a terrible attempt to not freak out over a reply, but the thoughts flooded his brain anyway. Oh god, oh god what if she doesn’t remember me? Or worse what if she did remember me and now she thinks I’m a creep? “So I thought why not?” Come on Parker, you sound like you don’t care. Maybe she didn’t even--

A loud ding came from the other side of his mattress and he scrambled to flip over his phone.

4 new messages from (Y/N) from class

Peter unlocked his phone and checked the messages.

Yeah, I remember you! We did that Spongebob presentation! Also, yeah I definitely am in need of that date TBH I’m glad it’s you asking me because I was scared I was gonna get some weird messages. Anyway, if you’re not in class or anything can you meet me at the cafe in 10 minutes?

Peter replied a quick yes before slipping back out of his dorm room and headed towards the campus cafe, trying to let out his jitters before he saw you. Come on Parker, you’ve fought space aliens and literally saved the world, you can do this. He hyped himself up, and let out a deep breath before opening the door. The smell of fresh baked croissants and strong coffee enveloped him in a warm hug as he walked through and he immediately felt a wave of calmness wash over him as he walked over to where you were seated at a table in the back, tucked away from the chatter and sounds of the rest of the cafe.

“Hey,” you looked up from your laptop and smiled at Peter as he slid into the opposite side of the booth and slid his backpack off. “I got us a couple of cookies, but I don’t know if you like coffee or not so I didn’t get you a drink.”

“Oh don’t worry about it,” he waved it off. “Thank you for the cookies though, these are my favorite,” he said as he reached for one of the snickerdoodles. “So, why the fake date?” He asked.

“Right,” you began, taking a deep breath. “So funny story, my cousin is getting married next week, and one day when I was home I mentioned that I was working on a project with a guy, and somehow they assumed that I was talking about my boyfriend, and everyone was so excited so I didn’t have the heart to tell them no, and so blah blah a year later, they’re using this whole wedding to try to meet my… nonexistent… boyfriend. Which is where you come in!”

You grinned sheepishly as you stared at a wide-eyed Peter. Somewhere in your head, there was a voice saying that this was not a good idea, coming to a crescendo until Peter finally let out a laugh. You laughed with him, unsure of what he would say.

“I’m in,” Peter said with an excited smile.

The next couple of hours went by in a blur as you and Peter worked on the details of your fake relationship. From your first date, your anniversary, how Peter asked you out, what he got you for Christmas, for your birthday, you tried to cover as much as you can.

“Okay, well what happens if someone asks us something we forget to cover?” Peter asked nervously. “Or, or, what happens if I say the wrong thing, or we get our stories mixed up--”

“Hey,” you interrupted, flashing Peter a calming smile. “We do what we do best. We improvise, all right?”

Peter nodded, setting his pencil down and grabbed the last cookie.

“The trick is to base everything on as much truth as possible,” you taught him. “The more truth we tell, the less lies we have to remember.” You leaned back, somehow more relaxed than you probably should be in this situation. “We’re gonna do great, okay, Pete?”

With a full mouth, Peter returned your smile. Although he was extremely nervous, he had to admit, he was also excited. It was evident from your days in French class and the last few hours that the two of you had a pretty solid chemistry, as it was incredibly simple and fun to bounce ideas off each other. No idea was a bad idea between the two of you. Just silly ideas and good ideas, but nearly everything ended in laughter.

By the time you had finally finished planning, the sun was long gone. The two of you packed up your stuff and Peter walked with you back to the dorms, still not wanting the evening to end. He was hooked on your company, and the regret he felt from not pursuing your friendship sooner left him with the gnawing desire to have more than just this one fake date with you, to have this arrangement blossom into a real friendship, that goes beyond a classroom.

Once you finally arrived at your door, your conversation came to a slow stop. “This is me,” you sighed. “Thanks for walking me back, and uh, thanks for agreeing to help me with this crazy scheme.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Peter smiled at you. “This is gonna be fun, I can feel it.” Peter felt butterflies in his stomach, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of you or because of his anxiety, but he was excited nonetheless.

You let out a small chuckle. “I’ll see you on Thursday, for the rehearsal dinner?” you asked, still beaming at him.

Peter nodded and extended his hand for you to shake, as you rolled your eyes and gave him a quick hug instead. Oh they’re definitely because of her, he thought.

“It’s a date.”

#Tom Holland #Tom Holland fic #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #tom holland headcanon #tom holland x reader #tom holland x yn #Peter parker #spider-man #spiderman #spider man #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker smut #peter parker fic #peter parker headcanon #peter parker x reader #jem speaks

96 notes · View notes

sokayisaidiot · 4 years

Text

#Longer than Forever Au

Storyline:

Tubbo is sick since he was born. And soon he will Die. Imprisoned in a Hospital he wants to do the things he dreamed of. Tommy is bored, being a troublemaker, he wants a big adventure. He comes to visit his adopted Father Phil, who had a little accident with his other brothers Techno and Wilbur. He didn't expect to meet the sick lonely boy Tubbo.

Shocked, for that faith, that awaits Tubbo, he takes Tubbo, the credit card of his family, some of the coolest Nerfguns and his most fast bike, to do the impossible...

Characters:

Tommy:

he is a known class clown, troublemaker and fight starter in school

likes playing video games

has good grades, despite not even paying attention at school

got adopted with Wilbur and Techno when he was around 5

always has the needs to mess himself with everybody

got his necklace from Wilbur and the earring from Techno

you see him in this outfit probably every day, since he says its defining his character

has the sass from Techno

would give everything to make his small family proud

played Soccer for some years, but went off the team, when they started bickering him

Techno, Wilbur and Phil had a talk with those kids parents the next day

wanted to change the color of his hair too, but Wilbur stopped him at the last second

has a bike with a bee bell

can listen to rules, but doesn't

cuts the hair of Tubbo and gives his family old clothes to him

pizza is probably his most favorite thing to eat

knows the country like his pockets

got super protective of Tubbo

Tubbo:

has a longlasting sickness that will kill him in a week or two

has a older Brother called Clay, but Calls him Clay

always asks if someone is gay

gets the necklace of Tommy

Tommy told him it was to make sure, that they were always together

loves hugs and gives plenty

always positive, despite dying in a week or so

has a way of making friends with everybody

but still can be badass as hell

when he and Tommy get into a argument, he rans away and gets an asthma attack. He is uncioncess when Tommy finds him in Panic. Tommy took care of Tubbo and both hugged each other for good 10 minutes

since then, Tommy is always by Tubbos side and refuses to leave him for the rest of the time

when he saw Tommys earring and said, that he wanted a earring too, Tommy took his arm and went to the next piercing store

never takes the clothes of, that Tommy first gave him

went from Strangers, to good friends to best friends with Tommy

Tommy was very happy to have a “younger Brother”

thanks to Tommy, he also learned swimming, car driving and how to bake finished pizza

already met Techno, Wilbur and Philza at the hospital, when they went on a check on

was surprised to see Tommy climbing outside of his hospital window, to get him in the night

cried when he saw his first fireworks and ocean view

loves the bee on Tommys bike

Techno:

middle Brother of Wilbur and Tommy

loves his brothers to the death and went into many fights for them

but sometimes causes them

has a love for growing potatoes, so for his 16 birthday, Philza and the boys got him a little farmpot

he sometimes makes potatoes for Family dinner

Wilbur said, he can't see potatoes anymore

actually becomes a teacher

knows Dream, Eret, George and the others from High School and still has contact with them

can and WILL tease Tommy about his height and age

takes a liking to Tubbo

helps Tommy and Tubbo going on their adventure without them knowing it

goes on extra jobs, telling his high school friends to help them, packing some obvious stuff extra in Tommys Backpack to survive and taking care, that his other Family members don't get crazy

Wilbur:

was adopted at the age of 6

the oldest son, but one with the most worries and not calming thoughts, while Tommy and Tubbo are on their adventure

first tries to stop those two, but then letting those two live Tubbo´s final moments together

was adopted with Techno at the same time

he found Tommy when him and Techno went grocery shopping in the rain. They saw a boy in alley way on the age of 5. Techno and him tried to talk to him and when the boy hissed at the Techno simply picked him up, threw him over his shoulder and walked home with him. When Philza tried to greet them, he was met with a hissing and kicking boy, red and purple marks all over his body. They agreed to adopt his boy. When they first meet his parents, all of them were full of rage. But Wilbur was the first and only one to punch in that meeting

he loves music and on special holidays, he gives a little concert

has a hate-love relationship with potatoes

goes to a University to study music

was the fastest one to trust Philza

got his guitar with the age of 7 for his birthday and couldn't stop crying for an hole hour

Philza:

happy but tired dad of three chaotic demons

went to various conventions with his sons

telling other parents how much nerds his kids were, but isn't really better

is the father to watch anime

got his sons to watch Bleach completely with him, they fell asleep after a while, but Philza insisted that they watched it

goes to every parent meeting and either brags or protects his kids

makes tournaments with his sons friends

basically every friend of his sons or child he sees, he adopts it

has Dad puns ready and WILL use them

was concerned with Tommy disappearing but greatly understand the reason I´with it

still grounded Tommy with watching an Anime with him

there aren't many ways to make him angry, but when he's angry, he's angry

Supports his children in every way he can

Cried by every theater where his kids played with, even if there were just the trees or musican

has the best advice for everybody

wanted to adopt Tubbo the moment he met him

has a shop called, “24 for Philza” and he lives with the boys over on the apartment

Dream/Clay:

Tommys older brother

a police men in training with Sapnap

comes visit Tubbo every weekend with his boyfriend George

taught Tubbo, Tommy and Techno sass

he learned the sass himself from George

wears a ring as a necklace

wants to ask George to marry him

Tried to stop Tubbo and Tommy and almost went through with it

“bullies” Tommy

but has a close relationship with their family

can hunt like a wolf, but otherwise can't hurt a fly

Tommy learned through him, to take care of his precious stuff

trusts Tommy his brothers life on

is very caring and a little overprotective

killed a men one time with the help of techno, when someone tried to kill George and Tommy, while a raid in a store

you want to mess with him, you need your testament ready

rival of techno

George:

boyfriend of Dream

is a journalist

loves Tubbo and taught him to be more confident

also promised to make an article about him, when they finished their adventure

helped Tommy and Tubbo escape to their rest of the journey

knows that Dream wants to propose to him

helped Tommy and his family, when someone tried shit talking their store, when he wrote a whole article about “24 for Philza being the best store in town”

officially the “better and more intelligent” part of Dream

always visits Tommys family with Dream

they already agreed of making Tommy flower boy and lost his parents so Philza will be walking him down the aisle

when Tubbo was four and his first night alone in the hospital, George gave Tubbo a plush Bee, since then he had a love and fascination with Bees

only one to keep his boyfriend in place

Sapnap:

has a motorcycle and helped Tubbo and Tommy on a part of their journey

loves to make Tommy angry

best man to Dream next to Techno

got Tubbo to watch all the different movies and teacher him about cuss words as well as punching

also learns to be a police men

was a part of the journey group for a while

made many pictures of Tubbo and Tommy

can and will beat anyone up, who is talking shit about the Philza family

wears a bandana with the argument, that he is always ready for a fight

was the one to teach Tommy how to ride a bike

trusts everybody with their life and has some outside connections

Badboyhalo & Skeppy:

22 & 20

a couple who is married and lives on the beach

they don't tell anybody, that Tommy and Tubbo were in a guest room in there house, since they have connections to their family

know Tommy, from when he was younger

Skeppy loves to make fun and Bad scolds sometimes, but he also, is giggling

they have various pets, since they live on a farm

found Tommy and Tubbo sleeping one morning on the beach and invited them in and Tommy remembered them

Skeppy had a similar sickness to Tubbo, but survived

they were the first once to get postcards

Tommy is calling them Uncle´s lovely, even if he says, because there so old

told Tommy when they both could go and washed their clothes for them again

Eret:

just your average business man

a old friend of Wilbur

found the boys wandering in the city lost and gave them something to eat

immediately befriended Tubbo and Tommy muttered something from betrayal

gave the boys two of his sunglasses and train tickets for the rest of their journey

promised Tubbo to come with sunglasses to his funeral, which he nodded along, laughing sadly

Fundy:

boy from the village, where they went watching Fireworks

got them a place in his tree house

spent the rest three days with the two boys

showed them around in the village

wasn't by Tubbos side, when he died, since he didn't know

Extras

Tommy cut Tubbos hair, saying he didn't need to look like rapunzel

Tommy played various pranks on Tubbo, but getting angry, when Tubbo finds it nice

Tubbo and Tommy went at least 5 times to McMonalds or Gurger King for Tubbo to get the taste, what he missed out

they Day when the fireworks came, was Tubbos Birthday, when he saw them he cried. It would be one of the last things he would see in his life

when it was time, Tubbo laid in Tommys lap and looked up in the sky

Tubbos last words were:

“Thank you for this nice Birthday gift. I never could ask for more than you as my best Friend”

then he closed his eye and took his last breath. Tommy just managed a tearful grin, when he said: “Me too, thank you, Double Trouble forever”. Those were the last words Tubbo heard

he still smiled when he died

when the other villager saw Tommy and Tubbo one recognized them and the police as well as the ambulance was called

Tommy went with Tubbo on the ambulance, despite Tubbo being dead

when most of his family and friends arrived they all hugged him. All of them cried

Tommy refused to leave Tubbos body for the first four hours and just with long talking, they got him home

at home he didn't got in any problems, just a quick clap on the head and then a hug from all of them

they told how brave and die it was of him, to give Tubbo his own decisions in his life

On Tubbos funeral, everything he loved the most, was in his coffin: The white Bandana of Sapnap, the sunglasses of Eret, Fundys fox mask, their selfie of Badboyhalo, Skippy, Tommy and himself, the article George wrote about him and his journey, Dreams mask, Technos and Wilburs earring and necklace on his body, the hat of Philza and Tommys bee bell

he wore the clothes he first wore, when the adventure started

the funeral was pretty small and depressive but then came Tommy with his talk about Tommy (maybe another post, if ya wanna)

then when he came back to school, Tommy stood up for children with deadly diseases and became the next year school representation...

15 notes · View notes

neocity-sarai · 4 years

Text

Tattoos Together

❈ main concept: childhood best friends to lovers!

❈ pairing: mark lee x reader

❈ alerts: fluff, angsty angst, language, parties, mentions of drinking/smoking, mentions of the dreamies/other idols

❈ song reference: “tattoos together” by lauv

Vancouver has always been home. Since you were a child, Vancouver has been the place to be. Years of dinners in the city, biking around Granville island, and field trips to the Victoria gardens were the norm, just little secret spots you go to when you want a getaway- an escape from school, work, whatever it is you’re doing. At age 15, the Lees moved into the light blue house next to yours, the one with overgrown weeds in the yard. The one with the crooked, leaning mailbox in front of it- daisies painted on the rusty metal. A young girl, an artist, used to live there until she moved to Paris for her next exhibit- leaving the lonely, periwinkle house behind. That day the Lees moved in, your parents baked more muffins than usual (on purpose) so they could welcome our new neighbors by enticing them with food. The saying goes that a way to a person’s heart is through their stomach right? When dad is done packaging them up into a neat little box, he shoves it into your hands, “Y/N. I hear the Lees have a son about your age, go introduce yourself.”

Glaring at your father, you set the box that was tied with a small yellow ribbon on the table before saying, “I’m sure they can manage just fine without the muffins. Why do we have to go greet them now? they’re probably tired from moving.”

Mom gives you a stern look, her jaw tightening, “Don’t be silly, it’s a nice gesture. Come back before dinner is ready.”

Before you can even protest, your parents are shoving you out the door, still careful not to crush the perfectly wrapped box. Stepping over the stairs, you finally manage to make it to the door. Here goes nothing? The cherry red door swings open lightly after you linger my finger-tip on their doorbell, opening up to a pretty woman- her facial features defined of asian descent. Her dark hair is tied into a loose braid, her pink sweater tucked into the waistband of her culotte pants. The woman smiles at you, the corner of her lips upturned, “Ah- you must be Y/N. I just got a call from your mother.”

You try to hide the shaking of my hands, handing her the box of warmed muffins, “Uh-hi Mrs. Lee. My parents made some muffins to welcome you to the uh- neighborhood.”

The woman’s eyes crinkle until her eyes stretch thinly, “That’s so nice of you! Thank you, I’m sure Mark will enjoy these!”

You question,“Um- Mark?”

Her laugh is light and airy, “My son-Mark! Wait here, I’ll get him.”

You wave my hands at her, motioning my refusal, “No worries, I-I have to get going for dinner..”

She doesn’t wait to listen to my words before turning away from the door to scream Mark’s name. A few minutes later, a boy wearing a dress shirt over his black t-shirt comes stumbling down the stairs, a pair of black headphones hanging off his neck. His glasses rest on the bridge of his nose as his jet-black hair sits as a messy pile on his head. It looks like he hasn’t combed it in days. Mark shouts, “What? What did you need mom?”

Mark’s mother clutches him by the arm, shoving him into my view, “Meet y/n. She’s the daughter of the family next door.”

At first, no words come out of Mark’s mouth, his doe, boyish eyes as wide as saucers. Mark’s mother hits him in the back, causing him to cough abruptly, “Uh-yeah-my name’s Mark. W-what’s your name?”

Mark’s mother laughs again, leaning down to whisper into his ear, “I already said her name is y/n!”

Redness creeps up to Mark’s cheeks, his nose tinted a slight shade of rose as his dark irises bounce everywhere but at me.

You smile anyway, “It’s y/n.”

He gives me a small smile and a nod, eyes set on the ground. His mother speaks up again, “I’m really sorry y/n, my boy’s really shy around pretty girls…”

Mark lightly hits his mom in the shoulder, “Mom! Don’t say that! You’re embarrassing me!”

His face is as red as a tomato, glasses sliding farther down his nose only for him to push them up with the tip of his index finger. I laugh at their cute relationship, holding out a hand to Mark, “It’s nice to meet you. I hope we can be friends?”

Mark stutters once more, his eyes wild with energy, “I-i’d like that very much-h, yeah.”

After you tell Mrs. Lee goodbye, you give Mark a nod before turning back on to their driveway. The both of them stand in the doorway, Mark’s voice reprimanding his mom in the house behind me. Maybe it wasn’t so bad meeting the Lees after all. That night, you go to bed, replaying the vision of Mark’s embarrassed smile in your mind.

Age 18 (senior year)

The next several years breeze by. Ever since Mark Lee enrolled into Everlane high, he wasn’t as shy of a freshman compared to the day you met him all those summers ago. Over the years, he grew a lot taller, his face a lot mature, yet still adorably awkward at the same time. He became a smart student, one favored by many of the science teachers- causing his friends (Jeno and Jaemin) to roll their eyes playfully whenever Mrs. Scofski would praise Mark for solving a chemical equation on the white-board. Mark was a basketball captain along with his best friend Hyuck, the two always tag-teaming during the school’s games. Due to Renjun’s forcing, Mark joined the student body as a reputable member. He became a biology tutor for kids who had found science class difficult or just fooled around without paying attention (Jisung and Chenle being two of those kids). Quickly, Mark was showered as Everlane’s golden boy, your neighborhood’s ideal son. He was doted as smart, popular, and mr. perfect to all the girls in the area- no matter how much he always denied it when you told him so. After your first meeting, your parents would frequently eat together, alternating households. The Lees also force Mark to walk you home from school, in fears that you would be kidnapped by a random stranger. At least he was good for one of many things- telling you that he’d swing his basketball at any person who would come even close to you.

Most days after your homework sessions, you’d plan new adventures with each other. your week went like this: on Mondays, you went walking along the water, skipping rocks on the bay until the sun went down and could see the glitters of the city sky-line. In the spring, the sky would melt from a tangerine orange color into a musty silver. On Tuesdays, you’d get clam chowder at Phil’s on 2nd avenue, Mark always ruined his shirt ( you would forbid him to wear white on Tuesdays) and then you’d sit on this abandoned rooftop above an old department store. Up there, the air always felt cold so that you would have to blow your warm breaths into your hands, lean your heads on each other’s shoulders as Mark let out his high-pitched laughs. On Wednesdays, it was maple waffles before school in Gas town, the steaming clock chiming delicate music by the hour. Thursdays were meant for taking stupid photos, listening to dusty mixtapes, and hanging out with the rest of your friends. Last Thursday, you would all go to the Capilano suspension bridge and sit on a treehouse’s edge- causing Hyuck to scream from the heights. Jaemin always quieted him down with a bone-crushing hug or a playful kiss, earning a look of disgust from Renjun. You always wanted gelato after that. On Fridays, all of you would stay in for a movie night at either Mark’s house or yours- Jeno punching Chenle to stop him from making fun of the ghosts in the horror movies you’ve been watching. It never works. Saturdays were like Mark’s public appearances at Everlane high’s party scene, one call and you all would be at someone’s house party. You’d never really enjoyed them though: too many people, too much dirty dancing, and the burning stench of vodka stung your nose. The only reason you would stay is for Mark and the boys. Sundays, your family and Mark’s get together for either dinner or lunch- switching off every week. Your parents would even play a betting game to choose who gets to wash dishes, Mark groaning every time his family loses rock-paper-scissors. Spending time with the people you loved made the days go by faster as you never particularly had bad days in the extreme. Piles of homework and grumpy teachers didn’t hold a candle to what you’d get to do every day- if it meant spending time with Mark. When you go to bed each night, you would feel content- happy, even.

Monday

You still think back to the moment when the boys were eating lunch in the cafeteria, like you did everyday. Chenle was talking about how he’d earn himself detention because he was messing around with chlorine in chemistry in order to make Jisung laugh.

“You’re such an idiot, Chenle. That’s going on your record, you know?” Jaemin scoffs.

Holding his sandwich in one hand, Jeno sweeps his coffee-colored bangs out of his eyes, “What do you expect? it’s Chenle- it’s like he’s powered on candy all the time.”

Chenle slurps up his gummy worms in an exaggerated motion, “I’ve already been through 6 packs of these since this morning. I feel so sick.”

Narrowing his eyes, Hyuck rests his chin on the palm of his hand as he pouts his lips, “Poor baby, eat more and you’ll be blowing up the toilet in no time!”

Chenle squints his eyes at the blond-haired boy, tossing a gummy worm at him, “Hyuck! Stop it!”

Hyuck continues to laugh as he clutches his stomach, Jisung stealing the candy from Chenle’s fingers before stuffing it into his mouth. I pull Hyuck up from his side, “Hyuck, you’re going to fall, sit up!”

Due to his lack of breath, Hyuck stares into my eyes, his golden irises gleaming, “You’re here to catch me though.”

You push him back down, palming my hand onto his face, “Stop reading cheesy rom-com lines. It’s so not cute, cringey at that.” Before Hyuck can finish whining, we’re interrupted by Mark plopping his food tray on the table. Jaemin says, “Someone’s late. Where were you?”

Mark looks like he’s out of breath, heaving and panting as he cards his fingers through the crest of his raven hair. “You guys aren’t going to believe this but, I think Cassandra likes me.”

Jaemin raises a skeptical eyebrow, “You mean Cassandra as the cheerleader who got kicked off the team for drinking last year?”

Suddenly, you stop paying attention to the conversation anymore. All you feel is the weight of your heart sink, my limbs feeling heavier at your side. Hyuck looks at you, noticing your fallen expression before clutching your hand under the table, giving it a comforting squeeze. It seems like Jeno sees it too because he glances from you to Mark as Mark excitedly explains his story. “Yeah, I was just finishing up some tutoring with Roberto from last period and Cassandra gave me her number after that! Isn’t that sweet?”

Jaemin nods disinterestedly, “Yeah, sweet I guess.”

Among the group, you have only ever admitted your feelings for Mark to Hyuck because he cornered you about it one day. Yet, it seems like Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun have caught on from their pitied faces. Mark drones on about how “totally cool” and how athletic he thinks Cassandra is. The difference is you don’t play any sports and you don’t slap coats of makeup on your face every-day before school, nothing like Cassandra. You shake your head at the ping in your heart- a small glimmer of hope that Mark would ever feel the same about you. By the time lunch is over, classes feel longer than usual. They drag on, your teachers’ words in one ear and out the other. You text Mark that you have to stay over for school so he can walk home without you- a blatant, utter lie. Instead, you opt to put my headphones in and take the long route home. Plopping on to the surface of my comforter, you hear the familiar ring of Mark’s text tone.

[2:55 P.M.] (Marcus Lee <3) Y/n? Did you get home okay?

[2:55] Yeah, I did. Thanks Mark.

[2:56] (Marcus Lee <3) Hey, are you okay? You seemed a bit down today? Like you know you can tell me anything right?

[2:56] Yeah. I know. I’m just a bit more tired than usual. Stayed up last night writing Mr. Gillion’s paper..

[2:57] (Marcus Lee <3) hahahah ewww. That doesn’t sound fun… Do you want to go into town and get churros later?

[2:58] I think I’ll pass today, I got some homework to finish. I hope you have a good day though :)

[3:00] (Marcus Lee <3] hahaha okay. I guess I’ll have to take my mom on a churro date then hahah. See you tomorrow! ;)

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to hang out with Mark. Still, you couldn’t forget about the way Mark’s eyes sparkled when he talked about Cassandra, the way his voice cracked from the excitement of talking about it. How can you expect him to know? To reciprocate? It’s not like you were dating, you have no right to be jealous of Cassandra- a pretty girl, someone who had football players falling at her feet. Even if you had told Mark the truth, what if he didn’t feel the same? It would make these awkward, not to mention with your friend group. You shouldn't.

Tuesday

In all honesty, you had forgotten about yesterday’s lunch conversation. That was until the reminder hits you like a slap to the face when you see Cassandra’s arms wrapped around Mark’s neck as he laughs into her shoulder. Renjun and you had been walking to art class, the crack in your heart widening by the second. They fit so well, the way Mark’s basketball jacket matches Cassandra’s cheerleading uniform, the way his teammates and her friends hang out together in a pack. Renjun whispers to you, “Are you okay?”

You nod at him, trying to conceal your emotions, “Just fine, let’s head to class.”

When you pass Cassandra and Mark along with their cluster of friends, Cassandra’s voice comes out in a squeaky tone, “Hey, y/n.” When you turn to look at the pair, you see Cassandra’s hand daintily resting on Mark’s stomach, his eyes wide as saucers when he realizes you and Renjun are in front of him. You hear Renjun mutter an ‘ugh’ after curtly waving to them. Mark leaves Cassandra’s grasp, motioning towards you both, “You guys going to art? I’ll walk with you-”

Before you can answer, Cassandra wraps her thin arms around Mark’s waist, “We have to go help Felix with the party stuff remember?”

Mark scratches the back of his neck before glancing back at her and you with Renjun, his mind in a state of conflict. To make it easier for him, you smile at him, “You go, looks like you’re busy.”

Walking faster, Renjun drags you by the arm as we breeze past the crowd of athletes and cheerleaders. Renjun rolls his eyes again, “I don’t get why he likes her so much, they haven’t even been friends for that long and you’re right-”

You cover a hand to his mouth, “Renjun, it’s okay. I’ve accepted it by now.” You try to convince yourself at the very least.

After art class is done, lunch time seems to come in a hurry. Everyone takes their usual seats, Hyuck on your right with Renjun on your left. Jeno, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung sit around you three in a circular formation. Jaemin speaks first, “So, what, are Mark and Cassandra dating now?”

Jeno shrugs his shoulders before stuffing a quarter of a cookie into his mouth, “Don’t know and don’t care.”

You say, “Looks like it, they were pretty intimate in the hallway this morning.”

Renjun and Hyuck make disapproving faces, Renjun quips, “I don’t know. I feel like this is happening so fast and he told me that he really-”

“Shut up!” Hyuck screams at Renjun, throwing a limp french fry at him.

“Ew, what the hell was that for?” Renjun’s eyebrows are furrowed with disgust, patting the fabric of his white denim jacket from any salt crumbs.

Hyuck’s eyes go wide as he makes a zipping motion on his lips, his blond hair gleaming under the dim lights, “Don’t say it- she needs to hear it from him!”

Renjun shoots back, “But it’s so obvious, what difference does it make?”

“What are we talking about?” Chenle’s face contorts with confusion, Jisung looking at him for any hints.

Jaemin glares at the pair, “Shh, let’s just all move on.”

You say, “I��m with Chenle, what are we talking about?”

Hyuck places a firm hand on my shoulder, his honey blond hair casting shadows on his forehead, “Nothing, it’s not important.”

As you eat, you spot Mark walking over to all of you, his black backpack slinged over one shoulder before setting his food down. “Hey, guys. We can squeeze in two right?”

Hyuck looks at Mark, his eyes furrowing with bewilderment, “Two?”

“Hey guys!” Cassandra’s preppy figure pops out from behind Mark. She looks more done up than before: red lipstick, long platinum-streaked hair in a slicked pony-tail, and the tightest cheer-leading uniform she could fit herself into. She plops herself down in between Mark and Hyuck, taking off the container of her salad before looking around our table. I sense Renjun and Hyuck give me a look while the other boys continue to eat in silence.

“So what did you guys do today?” Mark asks. Jaemin gives him a short response while Jisung explains how the class pet mouse made it’s escape during second hour, earning a chuckle from Mark. You get an odd feeling in your stomach when Cassandra looks at Mark so lovingly at your lunch table. The boys’ dynamic seems almost disrupted every time Cassandra butts in to say that she doesn’t think Jeno’s jokes are funny. As lunch finishes up, the school bell reverberates through the cafeteria walls- a signal for the next class period.

The next class is statistics with Mr. Midas. Out of the group, Mark and Jaemin are the only ones in the same class as you but it doesn’t help that they’re seated as farway as possible. On the bright side, you’re seated next to Chan, one of Mark’s basketball teammates. Over the course of the year, Chan has always been a kind deskmate by helping you when you’re confused with a problem or sharing his study guide with you. Sometimes you notice he scoots closer to explain a formula and asks you if you’re uncomfortable with his sudden closeness, to which to his relief, you always reply no. Chan is just as handsome as Mark, someone well regarded in the school. No one could resist his flirty charm, the way his chestnut hair curls to one side of his forehead and the way his hoodie falls past his waist a bit. You discover how Chan is really passionate about producing music and running your high school’s channel as a radio dj. When Chan smiles, it makes you happy to see how his eyes crinkle into crescent moons, and how his teeth gleam white when he smiles about the flower you drew him at the corner of his notes.

“Are you doing okay, y/n?”

You give a reassuring nod, “I’m doing okay Chan. Thanks for asking.”

He quirks up his brow, a scar slashing it at the end, “You don’t look okay though. Listen, if you don’t want talk about it, you’re all good, I just-”

Pausing him with the hold of your hand, you continue, “if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk about it.”

He gives you affirmation, you say, “Have you ever felt unrequited love?”

Chan shakes his head no, leaning back in his chair, “Maybe when I was younger but not now? I’m truly sorry y/n. Whoever it is, anyone who doesn’t see how funny and beautiful you are doesn’t deserve you period.”

You hold your tongue for a bit due to the fact of Chan’s comment catching you off guard. Freezing, he realizes the bluntness of his words, “Oh man, you just said unrequited love and I biffed it right? I didn’t mean it that way-no, wait. You are funny and very pretty so, uh-yeah.”

Bursting into laughter, you put a hand to your mouth causing Cassandra and Mark to look at you from across the room. Soon enough, you tear your eyes away from the students staring at you to focus your attention on Chan. He’s laughing too, his voice full of brightness and mirth. You respond, a light cloud of pink floating your cheeks, the room feeling a bit warmer, “I really appreciate that Chan. Thank you for making me smile today.”

A smirk graces Chan’s face as he says, “Happy to do it, whenever you want really.”

Statistics goes by extremely quickly when you’re sitting next to Chan- it’s like he’s telling you a couple of jokes and then it’s over. As the bell rings, Chan nudges you with his elbow as he packs up his bag, “So, I uh-this friday, we’re having our championship game and this party after? I was wondering if you want to come?”

You hesitate, thinking you might have plans with Mark, yet you decide he would probably hang out with his girlfriend over you anyway.

“I’d love to come. On one condition.”

Chan raises his eyebrows, “And what’s that?”

“You have to win the game.”

Chan throws up his hands almost hitting you in the process, “Well, duh! I’m not going to let you down, I promise.”

Friday

For the past couple days, you haven't heard from Mark. No texts, no calls, and no plans out in the city. You were hurt that the boy you’d call your best friend would ignore you just because he got a new girlfriend, your years of friendship overlooked just like that. When Friday rolls around, you attend the Everlane versus Brisbane championship basketball game. You decide that you’re there to cheer on Chan, the boy who’s taller than the rest, his purple jersey hanging against his muscular frame. You spot Cassandra giving Mark a kiss on his cheek on the court, you have to look away at the sight. By the next hour or so, you’re surprised at how long Chenle, Jisung, and Jaemin have been screaming. Each of them held a poster for each Hyuck, Jeno, and Mark- their jersey numbers adorned with dollar store glitter and messy handwriting. When Mark makes a slam dunk in the basket, the crowd goes ear-deafeningly wild, cheering out Mark’s name like a repeated mantra. Shortly after, Hyuck makes an attempt to pass the basketball to Mark; the ball missing Mark’s hands before Chan dribbles it to their opponent’s basket. The cheerleaders dance to the thrum of the crowd screaming Chan’s name over Mark’s, causing Mark to grit his teeth with irritation. For a while, the back and forth of swaying bodies goes on until the Everlane team makes the last shot before the final countdown. When Jeno makes the last point, you’re certain you’ve lost your hearing by then. The cheers ring in the gym, causing the alarm to blare with victory. After everyone exits the gym, you see Mark, Chan, and Jeno being tossed into the air in a sea of fellow players and short-skirted girls as pompoms explode upwards. You decide to wait with Chenle, Jisung, and Jaemin in the empty parking lot, waiting for Renjun to pull his car around. Jeno and Hyuck jog to you all first, their basketball duffels hanging from their hands, bodies are drenched with sweat. Chenle says, “That’s some fine work out there gentleman if I do say so myself.” Hyuck does his signature handshake with Chenle, a reckless grin smeared across his face, “I knew we’d win. Brisbane can’t take down the undefeated.”

Jeno gives him a firm nod, slinging his arm around a pleased Jaemin. You smile at the boys, “Congratulations guys, you all killed it on the court.”

Hyuck and Jeno smash you in a sweaty hug, “Aw, thanks y/n. You did well cheering for us.”

You laugh, “Get off, you guys are sweaty!”

Before Hyuck can smear his sweat onto your shoulder playfully, a voice stops you in your tracks.

“Y/n!”

It’s Chan. A damp towel hangs off his neck, his nike headband wrapping his forehead under his bangs. “You ready to go?”

You shout, “Just give me a second!”

Hyuck and Jeno give you a knowing look, “Where are you going with Chan?”

You reply, “Oh, we’re just carpooling to the party at Felix’s house.”

Renjun asks, “Also, where’s Mark?”

Hyuck shakes his head in contempt, “He’s heading to the party with Cassandra.”

Jaemin mutters, “Of course he is.”

Of course he would. Mark is one of the captains on the team, why would he be excluded from the after-party? The ache in your heart pings again, you feel sick from the thought of Mark making out with Cassnadra at some gross party. You wouldn’t be able to handle the tears. Though, Chan had invited you, not Mark- who he didn’t even mention it to you, the least you could do is be courteous. What kind of person gets invited to something and cancels so last minute?

You say, “You guys get to the party and I’ll meet you there, okay?”

Renjun’s eyes crease his concern, “You do know that Mark and Cassandra will be there though right?”

You nod, “Yes. But we won’t mind them, let’s just go have fun tonight.”

After parting, you jog over to Chan who’s tossing his duffel into the trunk of his silver Lexus, his hair damp from the game. He turns to you, grinning, “you ready?”

You smile at him, telling him yes before launching yourself into the passenger seat. Chan turns the ignition, his car interior smelling like cherries from the air freshener that hangs above his head. As Chan drives, the street lamps glow on the side of the road as the moon peeks between the rainy clouds. He rolls your window down, your skin shivering at the cold chill of the night. “So, there was something I wanted to ask you?”

Turning to him, you face the chestnut-haired boy, “You remember stats class a few days ago?”

You reply, “I do?”

“Mark was looking at you the whole time. When you guys hadn’t texted in several days, he asked me if you and I were a thing during practice.”

You quirk your brows up in surprise, “And what did you say?”

Chan smiles to himself, letting out a breathy chuckle, “I said no. But, I was definitely interested.”

You allow yourself to feel nice, to feel like Chan likes you for who you are around him. Chuckling at him, you flip your hair in a sassy manner, “Well, I’ll definitely keep that noted.”

When you arrive at the party, the small two-story house looks like a sight straight out of one of those coming of age movies. The small house is jam packed with people, some hanging out on the lawn as they sip their drinks as music shakes the walls. You spot Renjun’s car from the side of your eye, meaning that your friends had gotten there before you and Chan. Upon entering the house, it’s like a warzone within it. Some people are peacefully talking by the lounge area as they feast on snacks. Some are in the kitchen mixing a plethora of colorful drinks together while also playing a form of beer pong. Girls run up and down the stairs with their friends, some with boys trailing behind them with a trance in their eyes. Some are grinding on each other on the dance floor, sensual music thrumming at the source of the boombox.

The first thing you see are your friends sitting in the corner by the backyard door, Mark on the loveseat with Cassandra practically on his lap. You instinctively grab Chan’s hand so you don’t break down right there. He gives you a surprised glance, “y/n? What’s wrong?”

Instantly, you let go of his hand as you cast your eyes down towards the floor. When you don’t answer, he sees a view of your friends laughing along with Mark and Cassandra. You feel a large hand cover yours which causes you to look up at Chan, “It’s okay y/n. Just stick with me.”

You nod, leading him to the drink table in the kitchen. When he leans down to sniff a large bowl full of sour juices and cubes of fruit, his nose scrunches in disgust, “ugh, jungle juice.”

Out of random courage, you swipe an empty cup from the tower as you shove the metal ladle of jungle juice into it. Downing it despite Chan’s protest, you feel a surge of electricity light your lungs on fire as the beat of your heart quickens from the liquid courage. He laughs, keeping his hand on the small of your back, “You surely make reckless decisions when you’re bothered by something.”

You giggle back at him, “You drink something too, you’re a winner tonight after all.” Chan reaches from a glittery purple bowl that pops with bubbles, “a toast to that, y/n. A toast to that.”

before he downs the liquid in one go. You feel his body jolt from the energy too, a smirk plastered on his face, “Wanna go play a game with some of the boys? Only if you want to, we can talk upstairs too.”

Shaking your head in refusal, you hang on to Chan’s shoulder, “Let’s go have fun.”

Chan grabs your hand, his metal chain bracelet cool on your wrist as he leads you past your friends, Mark, and Cassandra before opening the backyard door. Mark moves Cassandra off his lap, her eyes as cold as ice before she angrily gets up to get another drink. The rest of your friends sit in their circle in awe, glancing down at Chan’s hand enclosed on top of yours. Coolly waving to them, you say, “I’m outside if you need me.” before you meet eyes with Mark- his lips pressed into a frown, his irises shot with hurt. You ignore the ache that grows on the wall of your heart. You tell yourself, Mark’s ignored you all this time because he doesn’t feel the same way and never will. After being outside on the patio for a while, you meet some of Chan’s radio-club friends as all of you play a game of sorry. For a moment, Mark and the others aren’t on your mind, just the fact that Chan is pulling you into an enthusiastic hug after winning a round. You turn to Chan, “Hey, I’ll be right back. I have to use the bathroom.”

Chan smiles at you before he presses a lingering kiss to the crown of his head, “Sure thing. I’ll be here.”

You’re not even surprised that Chan kisses you, whether or not it’s the alcohol, you don’t mind it. When you head back into the house, you feel an arm grab your wrist and spin you around. Your friends are still sitting where they had when you passed them except Mark is the one boring his eyes into yours as he grabs your shoulders, “We need to talk now.”

Before you can say no, he pulls you to the quieter part of the kitchen, you say with bitterness, “What do you want Mark? I have someone waiting for me.”

Left without any patience, Mark lets out a huff, “Are you and Chan together?”

You sigh, casting your glance at him, “Seriously? It’s none of your business. Second, it’s not like you told me that you were with Cassandra.”

Mark uses his hand to comb back his black hair, making it even more messy, “Y/n. That’s because we’re not together, it’s just complicated and I haven’t had the time to tell you why or how we-”

“Stop right there. You ignored me for days Mark! You never texted or called! What was I supposed to do? Pine after you when you’re chasing Cassandra around?”

Mark’s doe eyes flash with pain, his hand tightening around the sides of your arms, “No! That’s not it! I didn’t mean it that way, I’m just trying to figure out what to do..” You shove Mark off you, his hands sliding off your arms, “Well save it. I’m done with you playing around with my feelings!”

Mark calls after you, tears streaming down your face as you try to make your way to the bathroom without being stared at. It takes all three minutes of some Chris Brown song for you to stop heaving. You feel sick to your stomach, so much for a fun night. You text Chan to meet you outside in front of the house, avoiding the corner your friends were comforting Mark at. Chan finds you leaning against his car, “Oh my god, are you okay?”

Giving him the only smile you can muster, you explain, “Listen, I’m so sorry. You invited me to this party and I just-I’m here being a cry-baby and everything. I’m just going to walk home now. I’m sorry.”

Chan shakes his head in definite refusal, “Nonsense. I’m driving you home. I’m about done anyway.”

You ask hesitantly, “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

The night drive back to your neighborhood gives you peace of mind. Chan rolls all the windows down as soft music plays from his radio, slowing the bounce of your heartbeat. He’s got one hand on the wheel and one hand rested on yours by your knee, you feel comfortable with Chan. It’s the same feeling that flutters in your stomach when you’re close to Mark and right now, you hate the thought of the black-haired boy that consumes so many of your thoughts. Before Chan’s tires screech to a stop in front of your porch, he turns to you with concerned eyes, lips pressed into a pout. “Come here, y/n.”

You waste no time collapsing into the space on his wide chest, his hands stroking your hair down. Resting his chin on your head, you close your eyes to the rhythmic beat of Chan’s heart as the soft patter of the rain is enough to drift you to sleep. You pull away from his chest, looking up at the shadows in Chan’s eyes, his hair falling near his eye-lids while he glances at your lips before looking down to his lap. He says apologetically, “I’m so sorry. I’m not trying to take advantage of your feelings right now. I’m really not-”

You cut him off with your hand pressed to the curve of his cheek, “Can I kiss you?”

He doesn’t waste time to grip the back of your neck, kissing you harshly as he bites the bottom of your lip. You sigh into him, fisting the fabric of his jacket when he moves in even closer to twist a hair behind your ear. When you detach from him, you can’t control the burst of tears that shakes your body. The alcohol blurs the vision of Mark and Chan together as your mind throbs from the effect, leaving you dizzy. You apologize to Chan over and over again, wiping the tears that fall from your eyes. Instead, he kisses his lips to the side of your temple as he urges you to get some sleep. Like the gentleman he is, he walks you to the front door, draping his basketball jacket over your shoulders. Your home is dark- due to the fact that your parents are out of town on a business trip in Toronto so you just flop onto your bed in defeat. Mark’s ringtones shoot off from your phone, notifications of several apology texts and missed calls. Not wanting to check any of them, you toss your cell phone into the grey trash bin that sits by your desk. Going to sleep feels especially difficult when alcohol still surges through your veins and you can’t control the sobs that erupt from your throat. You hear Mark’s car pull up on his driveway, not wanting to see him whatsoever. On your bed, you almost feel him looking up at your window to check if you’re awake- for once, you’re glad it’s curtains are securely shut.

The next few weeks are pretty miserable besides the fact that you’re getting closer to Chan. You don’t acknowledge Mark’s presence anymore. By Hyuck and Jaemin, you’re told he comes by to the lunch table to check if you’re there. You still hang out with your friends separately rather than in your usual group- the web that connects you slowly falling apart. It’s difficult when you have art with Hyuck and Renjun, stats with Jaemin, and ceramics with Jisung, Chenle, and Jeno- as you try to take paths opposite of Mark at the same time. Later on, you explain everything that’s been going on between you and Mark to Chan. He takes it surprisingly well by comforting you and listening to your anger, how he’s willing to let you heal before you two start anything. How could Chan be so patient with you? He says it’s because he really likes you and would rather be there for you as a friend first. When you get home, your parents give you a lecture about starting things with Mark, how they want to have dinner with his family but can’t. Of course, they feel sorry once you explain to them what really happened.

Now, the weather outside seems a lot sunnier, yellow pollen from the peonies float in the air as you make your way out of the double doors. The time is nearing for spring break- a well needed barrier from Mark, from everything. Before you walk your way home, you’re stopped by Hyuck and Renjun. Renjun holds an envelope in his hands before giving it to Hyuck, both of them trapping you, “Y/n. We’ve been looking all over for you.”

You say, “I’m going home now, can we talk tomorrow?”

Hyuck narrows his eyes at me with contempt, “No, of course not. Just hear us out.”

Renjun speaks up too, “Do you have plans for spring break? I’m assuming you don’t because you mentioned a few weeks ago that you didn’t. We’ve got 8 tickets to Victoria island.”

You reply, “And.. your point is?”

Hyuck crosses his arms, rolling his eyes, “The point is to make up. Our group is in shambles because of all this lovesick drama. A trip is a perfect opportunity to mend things.”

Laughing, you cackle at his suggestion, “If you expect me to go then that’s hilarious. I’m not going.”

Hyuck throws up his hands in frustration. “How can you kick it if you don’t even know what will happen?”

Raising your eyebrows defiantly, “Do you remember what happened when Mark and I were in the same room? Hyuck, it’s not happening.”

Renjun grumbles, flicking the envelope in my face, “Fine! We won’t invite Mark then! We just want you to come with us and then we’ll see what happens from there okay?”

Hyuck socks Renjun in the shoulder with a fist before shouting, “How can we not ask Mark?”

In response, Renjun shoots a frigid glare at Hyuck as if he’s threatening him with his eyes, “We’re just not going to ask him! Y/n, will you come?”

You pause for a moment as you stare back at the pair. You raise your voice to make yourself crystal clear, “I will only go if Mark doesn’t. Simple as that.”

Renjun bobs his head in agreement, “Deal. No Mark.”

When you walk away, you still hear Hyuck berating Renjun for his decision only to be shut up by some snarky comment that comes through Renjun’s lips. The sound of their voices falling away.

First day of spring break

By the time spring break begins, you find yourself standing in front of Renjun’s van with your suitcase packed full of your things. You’re greeted by Renjun, Hyuck, Jaemin, and Jeno first. Of course, Jisung and Chenle are seen scampering across the school parking lot with their duffel bags messily unzipped, some shirts hanging out of the top.

“Didn’t I tell you to pack the night before?” Renjun scoffs at the pair.

Chenle pokes his tongue at the older boy, wrapping his arm around Jisung’s broad shoulders. Jeno holds his hands up in the air before bellowing, “shot-gun!” straight into Hyuck’s ear- causing Hyuck to throw a whiny fit. Once our suitcases are in the back of Renjun’s car, he leans on the side of his van as if he’s waiting for something. Jaemin says, “Okay, isn’t that all? Why aren’t you closing it?”

Renjun has a wicked grin plastered all over his face, “Not everything and not certainly everyone.”

You all turn to face Mark, circles under his eyes, his hair unruly as if he hasn’t gotten sleep in 3 whole weeks. Shoot a menacing face at Renjun, you whisper at him, “You told me Mark wasn’t coming.”

Renjun gives you an evil, sinister smile, “I crossed my fingers behind my back.”

Having the extreme urge to strangle Renjun on the spot, you ponder about Renjun’s extreme lengths to reach his goal of making up. Before you can walk away from the car, Hyuck drags your hand back to the door of the van, “Ah-ah- y/n. You’re not going anywhere.”

The whole car ride to the ferry is awkwardly silent due to the fact you’re mercilessly squished between Hyuck and Mark. Personal boundaries don’t exist in the car, your legs are practically on top of each other as Mark steals side glances at you from the corner. Getting to the dock port seemed less stressful than you’d imagine it to be. Renjun had parked his van at the base garage of the ferry before unloading everyone's belongings.

Just as easy as it was to get on to the boat, it was easy getting off too. You’d make your way down to Renjun’s car, Renjun driving it down a ramp and into the pathway that opened into Victoria island. You have to admit to yourself, Victoria island looked even more gorgeous than you had remembered last time you came with your family. During springtime, all the beautiful flowers in Butchart gardens would bloom pinks and purples, the greenery would turn a lush, healthy evergreen, and the city would stay lit for the tourists. It was the perfect place to have a vacation, one with friends at that. Jaemin and Renjun booked a small cottage house for everyone to stay in, one straight out of a fairy tale storybook. The cottage ceiling looked like it was made with hay and lime-green vines, beams of cedar-wood reinforced the walls of the structure. It had a white picket fence that surrounded a small rose garden near the entrance; white lilies floating in an old, peeling fountain. Finally entering the house, you were amazed by the impeccable interior:various paintings of Victoria island, a kitchen that was big enough to seat 10, and bedrooms slacked with ivory/gold wallpaper. Like ants scattering into their units, the boys jumped on their beds that they ‘claimed’ while you and Mark stood in the middle of the hallway. Watching all of them make a clamorous reaction over who got the best room was like watching families seize their buttons during family feud. By observing them, you’ve come to realize that there were only 7 rooms instead of 8. Realizing this, you glance over at Mark who was in turn staring back at you before racing towards the end of the hall- flying to the surface of the bed. Both of you landed on it at the exact same time, faces extremely close together. Hastily, you sit up in an attempt to push Mark off the bed that you claimed first, “Mark Lee, get off my bed now!”

He incredulously stares back at you, “Your bed? This is mine!”

You exclaim, “You’re trying to take my bed now? I clearly jumped on it first!”

“No, you didn’t!”

Bickering back at forth, you and Mark don’t even realize the rest of the boys practically flailing in the doorway, Hyuck saying in a sing-songy voice, “Or.. you could shareee!”

In unison, you and Mark shout, “Hell no!”

You get up first, shoving a pillow at Mark, “Fine, you have it! I’ll room with Hyuck.”

Hyuck clicks his tongue, “Oh no you’re not, y/n. Nada. No bueno.”

Before you can argue with Hyuck or chase him out of the room for that matter, you hear Mark speak up from behind. His voice is shy and quiet, his face a shade of beet red, “You just take the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

You turn to face him as you’re about to reprimand him for such a stupid idea until you realize that it’s probably the best decision to make at the moment.

After dinner that night, everyone had settled into their respective rooms. You had changed into a hoodie and sweatpants after you had showered. You sat on your bed, texting Chan goodnight before shutting it off to charge on your nightstand. Mark had stumbled into your shared room with one pillow and a thin fabric cover-(hardly a blanket) before setting it down on the carpet. Seeing Mark in this state, it reminds you of the old days. The way that his headphones sat comfortably on his ears, his black hair matted with drops of water, and his toned frame covered with black pants and a black tee. The hollows of his cheeks make his face more prominent, his lips the color of a strawberry slice. In one swift motion, he wraps the thin cover around his body before turning on his side, “Good night, y/n.”

Unable to say anything, you shut off the lamp- casting darkness all around you. “Good night, Mark.”

You almost forget that Mark’s there in the room with you until you hear the tick of his teeth chattering and the breathy huffs from how cold it is. You sit up to take a look at his shaking figure, the thin material doing no justice as a blanket. You believe that the air bnb manager hadn’t put extra blankets or control instructions for the ac system as you had all looked for them earlier. Deciding to wrap one of the thicker blankets that’s draped over your legs, you almost trip towards Mark’s shuddering body before patting it against him. Before you turn to go back to your bed, you feel a hand curl around your fingers, Mark slightly opening his half-lidded eyes at you. “y/n?”

Pausing, you touch your hand to Mark’s cheek, “Mark, you’re freezing. You should have told me, this blanket cover isn’t any better than a piece of paper.”

Mark shifts his body closer to face you now, his hands still wrapped around yours, “i-i didn’t know.”

“Do you want more of my blankets? I’m kind of used to the cold.”

Mark says, “No, if I take them, you’ll catch a cold.”

“Mark, I’m fine, really.” You insist on letting you help him, the boy shivering from the icy temperature.

His eyes become stern, his muscles stiffening, “y/n, I said no!”

Pausing, retract your hand from Mark’s as the warmth slowly is replaced with cold air. You give him a gentle nod this time, “I-okay.” Mark sits up from his place, fingers running through his messy hair, an earbud still plugged into his left ear, “What I mean is, I don’t want you to get sick. It’d be my fault.”

Instead, you walk back to your spot on your bed, “Look, don’t take this the wrong way but, you can come warm up for a little. Just before you go back to sleep, I promise- I won’t touch you.”

In the dark, Mark’s eyes glint like swirling, black orbs as he nods at you, getting up to take a spot next to you on the bed. He leans back into the pillow by your head, the coolness of it feeling like a cold cloud. Sighing with content, he submerges his body under the warmth of the comforter, careful not to over step his boundaries with you. When Mark lies next to you, you can seem to shut your eyes. Instead, your heart beats out of your chest when you hear Mark whisper. “y/n?”

“Yes, Mark?”

He says with a heavy heart, “I miss us.”

Propping my elbow on your pillow, you turn to face him, “I miss you.”

You choke on your words, your head throbbing with dizziness when you realize what you had just admitted to Mark. You seem visibly gulp, his eyes tracing the crease where the flowery wallpaper meets the ceiling. His voice comes out shaky, “y/n..I-I like you.”

Mark’s earbud sings the words of a beautiful, familiar tune:

Said I never fall, i’d never fall and then I fell for you mhm

Back against the wall, against the wall, and against the wall, that’s how it felt with you mhm

When those words fall from Mark’s lips, all the oxygen from your lungs makes an exit and threatens to not come back in- you’re left stunned. Mark turns his face to you to see your reaction and you stare back at him, eyes widened. Before you have the chance to say anything, Mark presses his lips to yours, rising from the pillow as his nose knocks against yours lightly. You find yourself kissing him back, harder than when you kissed Chan the night of the party. The kiss is full of yearning, almost full of struggling sadness to trap the right feelings- Mark’s hand snakes a hand around your jaw in order to stabilize you. He keeps kissing you aggressively, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as his tongue swipes your bottom lip. You pull away first, fire thrumming in your lungs as you place your hand on his chest, “Mark, you have a girlfriend. We can’t.”

Mark shakes his head slightly, “I’m not dating Cassandra.”

You make a face at him, “What do you mean? Because if I’m a rebound, I don’t want to be.”

Mark chuckles, a smirk snaking on his swollen lips, “Trust me, you’re not a rebound. And, I meant what I said about liking you.”

“Mark, you can’t just tell me you like me and then kiss me like nothing’s happened. I saw you and Cassandra with my own eyes.”

Mark sighs before gazing back at you with his obsidian-colored eyes, his skin glowing from the moon that shines slightly through the window curtains, “I’ve liked you since the day you brought those muffins to my house. I thought you would never see me as more as a friend and I tried to use Cassandra to get over you. I never wanted to burden you if you didn't feel the same. Clearly, it didn’t work. Not even partially. I’m sorry.”

You press your forehead against Mark’s, pressing a lingering kiss to the shape of his lips as you use one hand to pull the hairs on Mark’s nape- causing him to groan before reciprocating.

You whisper to him, a beautiful sound to his ears, “Why are we so difficult? We’re such idiots.”

Placing your head on Mark’s chest, both of you collapse on to the bed, sleep washing over your minds. You hear Mark giggle before putting his right ear bud into your ear, the sound of a man’s voice humming:

One weekend in Portland, you weren’t even my girlfriend

We were walkin’ and talkin’

Then somebody said.. let's get tattoos together, something to remember

If it’s way too soon, fuck it, whatever

Give me shapes and letters

If it’s not forever, then at least we’ll have tattoos together

Mmm, ‘cause I love you

When you wake up the next morning, you and Mark are greeted by Jaemin and Renjun cooking breakfast in the kitchen as Jeno, Hyuck, and Chenle play mario kart on the old television in the living room. Jisung is setting the table with eating utensils while also stopping to look at his Nintendo switch every few seconds. Aside from reddened faces and teasing, the boys had already suspected of your making-up based on the blush that coats both of your faces. That afternoon, you call Chan on the phone through facetime, letting him know that you and Mark had made up. Chan tells him how happy he is to hear it, telling you that he’s always known how much Mark had liked you and that he didn’t hold a candle to how Mark would talk about you to the basketball team. You apologize out of worry that you’ve hurt Chan but like the gentleman he is, he tells you that you’ll always be good friends especially when he’s good friends with Mark.

The next few days are like dreams. Together, you, Mark, and the boys go gallivanting across Victoria island through the sea towns made of floating boathouses and seafood restaurants. You bring your polaroid camera with you, capturing memories of Hyuck dropping his ice cream, selfies with Jeno and Jaemin, and seagulls chasing Renjun- all in a few frames. Even one morning, all of you had the spontaneous but rather, stupid decision to get matching commemorative tattoos, each of them a different flower on your wrists to commemorate your friendship. Each afternoon meant picnics at the Goldmere Provincial Park or whale watching tours out on the cobalt waters that were foaming with white. Other days you’d all visit the aviation museum or opt to sample the best chocolate fudge at Roger’s after a small hike.

On the last night of your trip, Mark had made sure that he wanted to take you down Tiffany avenue before meeting up with the boys for dinner. He’d told you to dress nicely in which you all did, leading you by the hand down the shopping street as your tulle skirt wavered behind you. When the both of you came to a balcony that overlooked the water, the ocean looked so vast like it could swallow you into the great swirls of turquoise and aquamarine as white ocean spray crashed on the sharp rocks. The sky turned a lavender shade that bloomed into a twilight pink, the sun barely touching the tips of the mountains. Mark had placed an item in your hand from his pocket, a pair of cherry earrings he had bought in a souvenir shop when you weren’t looking. It reminded you of the song on Mark’s playlist from several nights before:

Yeah, your cherry earrings are my favorite

It looks so good I had to save it

I’ve been hopin’, prayin’ we last forever

‘Cause there’s nothing better than you and I

A week ago, you told Renjun that in any circumstance, you would never go anywhere if it reminded you of your feelings for Mark, of your friends, of everything that had happened. Now, you’re glad to be able to let go, you’re able to feel the cold wind on the cliffs- Mark right by your side. Being wrapped up in the tight security of your boyfriend’s arms, (yes, Mark had asked for real this time) along with your best friends, you’re careful to not let go of them now. There’s no place that you’d rather be.

52 notes · View notes

nobunaga-the-warlord · 4 years

Note

Nobu/Hermione

ULTIMATE SHIP MEME!

Send in two (or more) names and I’ll fill all this out about the ship!

General:

How long will they last? - A hundred years or more. Witches can live a long time and Nobu wouldn’t leave her for a moment of it~

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - It was a slow build-up. At first, it was nothing more than lust and taboo running rampant during his classes. Soon enough Nobu kept wanting her to stay longer and taking risks just to be with her.

How was their first kiss? - Passionate. A late night training in his brand of magic had him behind her. Guiding her fingers to the perfect gestures... Hermione turned for a question but Nobu silenced her kiss.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Nobunaga~

Who is the best man/men? - Harry if only for Hermione’s sake

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Luna. Tonks, Cho, and Ginny

Who did the most planning? - Hermione for their first ceremony, Nobu when he took her to his Empire to be crowned Empress

Who stressed the most? - Hermione but her finance was there to help her relax~

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Ron and Remus. Unfortunately, unlike Harry they still held a grudge against the old dragon.

Sex:

Who is on top? - Nobunaga~

Who is the one to instigate things? - Surprisingly both! Nobu is often teasing her in places he shouldn’t but Hermione gives back with surprises in meetings/class

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - Hermione lasts a few hours before having to tag out~ Having his true form being a dragon came with a few benefits of Stamina

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - She tries but Nobu often spends time tying her to the bed making her cum countless times~

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - Nobu will try for as many as possible drakes! But his dragon blood makes births rare so two or three

How many children will they adopt? - They certainly don’t need to but they’d be willing to take one in

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Nobu. He is more than happy taking care of their children while she rests in the next room.

Who is the stricter parent? - Hermione. Often scolding Nobu for doting on them too much.

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Both. Nobu might teach them a few tricks but it swift in stoping things too much for them.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Nobu! He adores cooking for his family.

Who is the more loved parent? - Hermione!

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - Hermione tried to get him to come but he flies off on a ‘diplomatic meeting’ whenever they come around

Who cried the most at graduation? - Hermione is so proud of her O students

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Both~

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Nobunaga! Cooking is one of his passions

Who is the pickiest in their food choice? - Hermione still keeps some of her parent's habits about watching sugary foods.

Who does the grocery shopping? - They go together but Nobu will go on his own to find dinner ideas

How often do they bake desserts? - Nobu often makes them much to Hermione’s annoyance.

Are they more of a meat-lover or a salad eater? - Nobu is meat while Hermione is salad eater.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Is it a surprise when Nobu does it almost every year XD

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Hermione though he agrees to try more dishes

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - Nobu sneezing while cooking lol. With her skill in potion-making Hermione is a good cook as well! Though she doesn’t believe her husband when she does

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Servants

Who is really against chores? - Nobunaga. “Where magic aren’t we? Why should we have to clean...”

Who cleans up after the pets? - Hermione is used to taking care of Crookshanks

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Nobu though his more likely to turn them to ash before sweeping it under

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Hermione

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Hermione since Nobu rarely pays attention to money with his gold

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Both due to sharing for fun times

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - Nobu if one of their kids convinced them to get one. He still misses his old pup.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Hermione often has to remind him before he does so. Even after hundreds of years, he forgets about holidays from his childhood.

What are their goals for the relationship? - Marriage and children~

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Hermione after getting lost in his library again. Nobu hates mornings but wakes early for his training or sex

Who plays the most pranks? - Nobu often does sexy pranks for her huff about later... Even if she secretly loves them~

#betweenthesinnersandthesaints

2 notes · View notes

angelbabylu · 5 years

Text

Man or Beast // LH

pairing: witch!oc x vampire!luke

word count: 7.5k

warnings: smut, fluff, magical stuff, angst if you squint

notes: so last week i posted something wicked, an introduction to this universe where 5sos are vampires. as stated in my note for that fic, the idea comes from this book series. whereas that fic dealt with a lot of witch lore, this will deal with vampire lore. basically digging into luke’s family and backstory and such. this has the barest of allusions to dracula. i hope you enjoy!

title: from this dracula quote: “[S]omething dark stood behind the seat where the white figure shone and bent over it. What it was, whether man or beast, I could not tell.”

Part 1: Something Wicked

The first year in front of her had turned bright red in embarrassment. They were in the greenhouse discussing the life cycle of plants and how magic could be used to speed up that process. Margo, the TA for this freshman herbology class, had grown quite used to her students being intimidated by her. Especially those like the young witch in front of her who’s magic had gone haywire and caused several plants in the vicinity to die. The good news was that Margo was somewhat of a prodigy when it came to herbology. It was one of the few things she could do without incantations.

She ran her hands over the flowering plants as she spoke to the girl. “Like with all magic, it is about manipulating something on a molecular level. With raw power, all you have to do is send your magic into the universe and manipulate it to do your bidding. Like creating water.” Margo whispered a quick spell that had an orb of water forming between her fingertips. She tossed it into the air, and it disappeared into steam.

“Or,” Margo continued, “telekinesis.” After a wink from Margo, the large, round, wire-rimmed glasses that the first year wore wiggled up and down on her face.

“The water and your glasses are both inanimate objects, so I only had to worry about manipulating them to my own will. With plants, you can’t just shove energy at it and hope for the best as they have a will of their own. Listen to the plant and learn what it wants. If you just try to bend it to your will, it will resist, which could lead to. . . ” Margo trailed off.

The young witch had already experienced the consequences of such actions. “This takes a level of practiced magical manipulation.” As if in a show of agreement, the plants began to come back alive around her, sprouting flowers as red as the witch’s face had turned earlier.

Margo was so engulfed in trying to teach her young student how to control horticultural magic, she didn’t notice the slight prickling in her thumb.

She missed the whispering and giggling too. It was not until the young witch interrupted her with a small, yet constrained smile and said, shyly, “Miss Crowley, I think your boyfriend is here,” that she looked up and out towards the doorway. Sure enough, leaning against the door frame to the greenhouse was Luke, arms crossed, a smile on his face.

Margo pursed her lips in mild annoyance, hands coming to rest on her hips. Luke knew that when he showed up to her lectures, it distracted the class. Most vampires didn’t hang out with the Horticultural Magic students–they tended to prefer biological sciences, history, literature, and other such pursuits. And, vampires were also the least prevalent of the magical beings. Chances were many of the first years had never seen a vampire before meeting Luke.

Some of the bolder witches had already made their way over to him, taking his attention away from Margo.

“I suppose class is over?” asked the young witch Margo had been helping. She looked at her students whose focus was no longer on the plants in front of them, but on the tall, looming vampire in the doorway.

“I suppose,” Margo said solemnly.

She went to the front of the greenhouse and called out for attention. “Class dismissed. Please remember that I expect all of you to be able to draw the life cycle of an angiosperm by next Tuesday! There will be a quiz.”

As always, there was a collective groan throughout the room. Margo ignored it as she went to about packing her things. Luke stayed at the door for a couple of seconds saying goodbye to the few students that were friendly with him before walking over to her. When she had rammed all that could fit in the small laptop bag, she slung it over her shoulder, picking up the spellbook and the biology textbook she couldn’t quite fit.

Reaching out, Luke stole the books and a kiss. “Good afternoon, mon cœur,” he said, his native language rolling smoothly off his tongue. “I take it you had a good class.”

Margo refused to smile at him, no matter how charming he was.

When she didn’t return his smile, he turned indignant. “What did I do?” He asked, voice raising an octave.

“Half my class is like in love with you. Every time you show up, they forget I exist.”

Luke laughed at her revelation, placing one arm around her and ushering her out of the greenhouse. “Half your class is in love with you,” he shot back. “That girl you were talking to when I walked in? She has such a huge crush on you, I could hear her heart hammering from halfway down the hall.”

“What?” Margo’s mouth hung open. “No way. Poor thing. It’s too bad for her that I don’t date my students.”

“And that you’re dating me,” Luke reminded, squeezing her shoulder possessively.

Margo laughed; she had known that would get a reaction out of him.

They walked in relative silence, basking in the golden hue of the late afternoon sun. Glancing up at Luke, she watched as the light brushed against his angular features, causing the contours of his face to seem more prominent. She remembered the days she thought vampires would burn in the sunlight. Turns out that, while they preferred nighttime, the sun did little more than irritate their sensitive eyes. Growing up in her small town in Massachusetts, she didn’t have much contact with other supernatural creatures that weren’t witches. It was part of the reason she loved the University of the Arcana as much as she did. The different kinds of people she got to meet were refreshing.

Luke’s Tesla was parked a few feet outside the Horticultural Sciences Complex. The research lab where he mapped the vampire genome and studied evolutionary biology was just a few blocks from Margo’s greenhouse. Their evening routine used to include enjoying a leisurely 5-minute stroll from said greenhouse to the biology complexes. Recently, however, that had not been the case.

“Why’s your car here?” She asked, despite already knowing the answer.

“I went to a few theology seminars today,” Luke said in response.

Along with being an evolutionary biologist, Luke was getting a degree in the history of theism, and, when he was feeling particularly nostalgic, he also attended classes on Romantic-era literature. The thing about vampires was that they had all the time in the world, so getting two or three degrees at once was nothing to them. It didn’t escape her notice, however, that he had been attending these classes more frequently.

Margo tramped down her budding need for confrontation and asked instead, “Do we have any plans for tonight?” In the privacy of Luke’s car, she kicked off her trainers and took her hair from its top knot. Saying goodbye to the day, she relaxed back into to cool leather of the interior, facing Luke only once her legs were tucked firmly underneath her.

Splitting his attention expertly between her and the road, Luke asked, “Would the house be mad if I stole you away for one more night?”

Her house, or rather the Gamma Nu Sorority House, had a habit of misbehaving when it was feeling cheated. Once, a few weeks before, she had spent 6 blissful days sleeping on Luke’s memory foam mattress only to return home to find her room missing. After hours of begging and cajoling, there was still no sign of her scratched up wooden door. Finally, it had taken her promising not to spend more than three days at a time at Luke’s for the house to re-materialize the room in its former spot.

“We’ve got one more day,” Margo informed him, thinking about their Game of Thrones marathon that had lasted two nights in a row. “I can’t watch Game of Thrones tonight though. Your girl’s gotta study.”

“I could cook while you study?” Luke suggested. “Then, we can do dinner and go to bed early.”

“Good food and an early bedtime?” Margo released an exaggerated moan. “Talk dirty to me.”

:: ::

It was 9 PM when Luke entered the study that, over months of dating, had become more hers than his. He was holding a pasta dish, two glasses of wine, and some freshly baked bread. Margo was more excited to see the food than she was to see him.

Luke’s diet consisted mostly of blood, animal’s or hers, and wine. Since becoming a vampire, he had lost his taste for human food, but not his love of the culinary arts. Dating her gave him an excuse to get back into the kitchen where he liked to get experimental with his dishes.

She closed the potions textbook in front of her and held her hand out for the plate as soon as he got close enough. “Carbs!” she cried happily. “You do love me.”

He chuckled and kissed her before handing her the plate. Leaning against the edge of the desk, he watched intently as she took the first bite.

“Any good?” Luke’s culinary inventions didn’t often leave her wanting, and this time was no different. The fork had no sooner left her mouth than she was groaning.

Laughing, Luke said, “I’ll take that as an affirmative.” Perched on the desk, he sipped wine casually and gave her a moment to savor her food. Then, he asked, “How’s potions going?”

“It’s kicking my ass,” was her grumble of a reply. “There are hundreds of potion bases, and I have to memorize them all by next Friday.”

“Do you want me to quiz you while you eat?” He was already reaching for the book she had set aside earlier.

Grabbing his hand, Margo stopped him. “If I see or hear anything about potions for the next 12 hours I might actually die.”

“At least we haven’t resorted to dramatics,” he retorted dryly. After he studied her for a minute, then announced, “Alright, finish eating and meet me in the bathroom.”

Reluctance must have shown on her face because he exclaimed, “Oh my god, just do it!” Then, he disappeared through the office door.

Fifteen minutes later, Margo left the study for the bathroom, which she found with its door slightly ajar, soothing piano music drifting out. She pushed inside to reveal a prepared bath and a few candles burning, tossing soft light off the porcelain of the tub. A small speaker sat on the counter, the source of the sounds that had drawn her in earlier. Luke was noticeably absent.

He appeared behind her in the next second, a couple of large towels in hand. “Ah, there you are.” He said nonchalantly, as if unaware of how romantic this simple gesture was in her eyes. He had seen how strung out she was and had known exactly what she needed. “C’mon, get in the tub.”

Margo was eager to follow his order, but first, she leaned over the stack of towels to press a chaste kiss to Luke’s lips. “You’re getting in with me, right?” She asked while unbuttoning the powder blue shirt she’d been wearing for over 14 hours then.

“If you want me to.”

Margo scoffed, then moved to unclasp her bra. Next went her pants and underwear. While wrapping her hair up into a bun atop her head, she slunk into the tub. She didn’t recline against the porcelain back just yet, leaving space for Luke. He was still standing by the doorway where he had been intently watching her movements.

“You coming?” She asked impatiently.

Those words snapped him out of whatever reverie her naked form had pulled him into. Shaking his head, he deposited the towels next to the tub, then undressed and slotted himself behind her. She relaxed, at last, leaning against the broad span of his chest.

“Thank you so much for doing this for me,” she whispered. Luke’s response was to place three small kisses on the route from her shoulder to her neck. She melted even further into his arms. “Who are we listening to?”

Luke, being as old as he was, preferred classical music to her top 40 pop. Having only taken a recorder class in elementary school, Margo knowledge of music was limited. Luke was determined to change that. Every chance he got, he played his favorite songs for her.

“Chopin,” was his answer, mouth still grazing the skin of her throat. “Nocturne Number 2 in E-Flat Major.”

“Did you know him?” She couldn’t help the slight hitch in her voice when he nibbled gently on the skin of her throat.

“We may have met once or twice.” In Luke terms, that was a yes. In 1795, the vampire who sired him had been wealthy with connections all around the globe. This meant that, for the first hundred years after his rebirth, Luke easily became acquaintances with any one of interest. As little as Margo knew about history, she enjoyed hearing the stories of past historical figures.

But tonight, Luke wasn’t interested in telling her a story. “Luke,” she whined as his bites got rougher, and his hand trailed down past her belly button.

“Is that a ‘Luke, please continue’ or a ‘Luke, stop.’” He asked, pausing all motions.

“It’s an ‘I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep immediately after I come,’” she retorted. A yawn slipped from her in that exact moment as if to prove her point.

“That’s okay.” This time he bit her ear. “You coming is all that matters anyhow.”

Unhindered, his hand slipped between her thighs. It started out gentle, with two fingers pushing against her clit. Almost reluctantly, she pushed her hips up to greet them. Then, as he started to explore her folds a bit more, she ground up against him in earnest. The hand that wasn’t toying with her folds squeezed gently on her breast and toyed with her nipple. She gripped his bicep in response.

Then, he slipped one finger inside her, sinusoidally dipping in and out, setting her whole body alight.

He another added another. Margo’s hips ground against him as she searched for more leverage. When he touched something inside her that filled her with ecstasy and the ravenous need for more, she cried out, and threw one leg over the side of the tub, displacing water in the process.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, God. Luke.” The cries of pleasure rang out throughout the room.

Luke began to finger her in earnest then, index and middle finger slipping in and out of her. He kissed up and down her neck until he was taken by the heat of the moment too. The hand that had been toying with her nipples slid down to her stomach, holding her flush against him as he rocked up against her. His dick was obviously hard between their slick bodies.

It wasn’t until he growled, low and guttural, that she realized just how far gone he was. He rearranged her, so she was seated fully on his lap, dick now positioned between her cheeks. All the tiredness was swept from her mind as she ground down against it.

Then, raising off his lap a bit and reaching back, she wrapped a hand around him. It was an awkward angle, but she made it work. Pumping him a few times made his hips go wild as he bucked uncontrollably.

She said, “I’m gonna–“

The words didn’t quite get out, lost in the haze of lust that made it impossible to think straight. Margo lined herself up with him and sank down. They weren’t going to last very long. The water in the bathtub continued to splash to the floors as one of Luke’s arms wrapped around her body, holding her slave to his motions. He had her pressed up against his chest, fucking up into her and toying with her clit. It was slippery and messy, and Luke had to reposition himself a few times, but neither made any attempts to stave off their lust so they could move to a bed.

Chopin could barely be heard over his growls, her cries of pleasure, and the distinct sound of water sloshing over the edges of the tub. His lips continued their path up and down her neck, bites deeper than before. They were painful, but in a way that made her toes curl.

She knew what he wanted before he said anything. “Please, can I–” He began, but cut himself off and threw his head back, fighting an instinct.

They weren’t face to face, and with the way they were moving, inches from orgasm, neither would want to take a moment to reposition. So, he would have to bite her neck. It was of no consequence to her; it was nothing she couldn’t hide without makeup.

Without really thinking about, Margo responded to his silent plea. “Yes,” she gasped out. “God, yes.”

The next second, she felt the sharp pain of the skin of her neck being pierced, followed immediately by intense euphoria. She buried one hand in his hair, holding him there; the other went down to encourage his motions as he continued to rub against her clit. They came, one right after the other, their hips stuttering to a halt.

“Fuck,” Luke grunted when he pulled away from her neck, head falling against the plaster wall behind them with a thud. As always, it took him a few minutes to get his wits about him after drinking her blood. Margo took that time to pull off of him and catch her breath.

Later, when they were both tucked underneath Luke’s black silk sheets, Luke ran his fingers gently over the deep teeth marks on her neck. Another lore Luke had taught her: Vampires didn’t have retractable fangs, but their teeth were more than sharp enough to pierce skin.

She had marks, like the ones now on her neck, almost ingrained in the skin of her chest. That is where he most often drank from her, as was the vampiric custom when it came to lovers.

“I shouldn’t have done this.” He said, fingers still tracing the indents of his teeth.

Margo couldn’t figure out why he sounded so pained. The healing properties of his saliva would ensure it didn’t leave a mark. Unless he bit her there again, after a day or two of covering it with makeup, neither of them would remember it even existed.

“It’s fine. No one’s going to see it.” Margo insisted.

Luke didn’t respond.

Margo fell asleep with his thumb still tracing the outline of the marks.

:: ::

She woke up to a sharp prickling in her thumb. Shooting to a seated position, she looked at her hands, disoriented and confused by the sudden onslaught of pain. Luke, who had been awake in bed next to her, sat up as well.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice noticeably laden with worry.

Margo shook her head.

“Something is looking for me.” She tried to shake the drowsiness from her mind. Her senses were dulled by it. Whenever a powerful creature came looking for her, a small prickling would alert her to their intent. But this was more powerful than anything she had ever experienced before.

“Three somethings,” she continued as she began to make sense of what she was feeling. “They’re big, and they’re powerful. Unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.”

She saw the exact moment understanding dawned on Luke. He sniffed the air once, then muttered, “Shit.” He was out of bed and at the door to the room in a blink.

“What’s happening?” She asked frantically, trying to figure out what she might have missed. There was some information Luke’s supernatural senses had picked up that hers could not provide. In moments like these, she envied how he was preternaturally attuned to his senses.

“If I asked you to stay in the room, would you?” He asked.

But, she was already getting out of bed and slipping into her slippers and his robe. Even rushing through these motions, she was no match for vampire speeds. By the time reached the front door, Luke was standing there blocking the way of three large, imposing vampires she had never seen before.

They were all dressed in all black. One stood in front of all the rest, his dyed red hair slicked back. He wore a t-shirt tucked into jeans with a leather jacket thrown over it. Margo could see he wore two rings on each hand and his nails were painted black. The man on the left looked much more laid back. His black jeans were distressed, and he wore an ACDC t-shirt. While Luke traded jabs in French with the frontman, this one simply stood back with an easy smile on his face. Finally, there was the man with a slightly deeper skin tone than the others leaning against the door frame. His arms were crossed and the fabric of the plain black t-shirt he wore struggled to cover the entirety of his bicep. If this was some kind of vampire shakedown, he was definitely the muscle.

The frontman noticed her first. He scoffed in disgust and began gesturing to her as they spoke. The other two remained relatively quiet but did spare her a few wary glances. What little French she knew was unhelpful, as they spoke too fast for her to catch any words.

She attempted patience first, trying not to look too indignant as they conversed about her as if she wasn’t there. But that was one of her pet peeves, and, to her displeasure, the conversation did not seem to be letting up any time soon.

Next, she tried speaking up, but not even Luke turned his head at her, “Excuse me.” If anything, they seemed to talk louder. She began reciting the spell before she could think better of it.

Their mouths snapped shut the next instant, and all was quiet for a moment. When they realized something magical was preventing them from speaking, all eyes turned to her. Luke’s baby blues looked more frustrated than she had ever seen them. She released him from the spell.

“What’s going on?” She asked, now that his attention was back on her.

For a moment, he glanced between her and the three men standing at the door. Then, he said, “Let’s go inside.”

:: ::

Ashton, Michael, and Calum.

Those were their names, respectively.

It wasn’t a vampire shakedown; it was a family reunion. They relocated into the uncomfortable chairs Luke had purchased for his dining room in hopes of dissuading guests from overstaying their welcome. It was still relatively early in the morning, so Margo made herself tea. The other four vampires had wine.

She knew a bit about Luke’s brothers from the stories about France and the French revolution that Luke liked to tell. From what she knew, Ashton was the leader of their little clan. He was the one who had sired Luke in the first place. It explained why at some angles they looked similar, when he replaced all the blood in Luke’s body with his own, some of Luke’s features changed.

Ashton had an assuming presence that seemed almost too large for Luke’s dining room. Were Margo more mild-mannered, she might have retreated to the background to let the vampires talk. But that was not her.

“You don’t like witches?” Margo presumed aloud once she was seated across the table from Ashton with her tea. She still hadn’t made sense of the argument at the door. Her witches senses did not lie, they had shown up at Luke’s looking for her. When they found her, it obviously became a point of contention.

Ashton scoffed with a hint of condescension. “Please. We are not prejudiced.”

“Do not scoff at me,” Margo shot back. “Not when you refuse to tell me why you’re here. Looking for me might I add.”

The one in the distressed jeans, Michael, grinned at her and whistled low. “Oh, she’s feisty. Finally, someone that’s a match for Ashton.”

Ashton did not dignify that with a response. Instead, to Margo, he bared his teeth and hissed, “This is not about you, it is about Luke. You need to stay out of it.”

“Well, come on now, Ashton.” Calum, like Luke, had decided to remain standing while the other two vampires sat. Well, Michael lounged, and Ashton perched as if poised to jump off the edge of his seat. From his position behind Ashton, Calum placed a large hand on his shoulder. “It’s a little about her. Luke should decide if he wants to tell her or not.”

At that, every eye turned to look at Luke. He was looming over Margo protectively, but not in a way that suggested he expected his family members to attack. He was obviously not afraid for her safety. It was rather like he wanted her out of the conversation more than anything else.

For what seemed like a full minute, Margo believed Luke wouldn’t share this secret. She feared that months of sharing everything with each other had culminated to this one moment, this one Big Thing that she wasn’t allowed to know.

Thankfully, he sighed and sunk into a seat next to her. “My brothers think you and I have mated.”

Admittedly, Margo’s knowledge of vampire mating was basal. She knew, of course, that Luke had every intention of mating her. You’re it for me, he had told her a few months before. It had terrified her, but she couldn’t deny that her feelings for him, their feelings for each other, ran deep. To her knowledge, however, they hadn’t taken that step yet. Even if they had, she wasn’t sure that was something they needed to discuss with his brothers.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong,” Margo began slowly, keeping her eyes leveled with Ashton’s. “But isn’t whether or not we’ve mated between the two of us?”

“No,” Ashton replied with a bitter chuckle. “No matter what you and my idealistic brother like to think. This is a matter for a clan. Luke cannot handle taking his mate by himself.”

Seeing the look of confusion on Margo’s face, Michael took pity on her and began to explain. “Luke is still very young. He has only witnessed one vampire mating in his lifetime, and even then he wasn’t privy to our procedures. Mating when you aren’t familiar with the methods–well that could have dangerous consequences.”

Michael’s eyes drifted pointedly towards her neck where Luke’s bite marks from the previous night were on full display. With the excitement of the morning, she had forgotten to cover them. She slapped a hand over them; then, her color deepened in embarrassment.

She turned to Luke, expecting him to respond, but he was lost somewhere deep in his own thoughts. When he didn’t, she spoke for him. “It was an accident,” She insisted, even though she had a feeling she didn’t quite understand the repercussions of Luke biting her neck.

Michael leaned forward, voice dripping with a dangerous edge. “When it comes to predators, darling, one small accident is all it takes to kill you.”

Finally, Luke spoke, words coming out in a snarl. “I would never kill her.” Shock and anger registered on his face. He was obviously taken aback by Michael’s suggestion.

“Not purposely,” Michael amended. “But your carelessness could get her killed nonetheless.”

“It’s a good thing then that Margo and I aren’t mating.” Luke snarled. He was out of his chair in an instant, glaring down at his brothers.

“Luke–“ this time it was Calum popping in with an argument.

Luke cut him off. “I’m fine, Calum. Now, if you guys want to do something other than have this conversation while you’re in town, let me know. If not, I’ll see the next time I’m at home.”

Michael threw his hands up in frustration. “This is what you get for siring a vampire amid the French Revolution, Ashton,” he grumbled. But he made no more protest as he walked towards the door.

Calum turned to follow him.

Ashton was the last to leave. “I just want you to be safe,” he said, eyeing Margo. What she had mistaken for disgust earlier was now clearly weariness and reluctance. It was as if he wanted to trust her, but was afraid to.

Luke gripped her shoulder and squeezed. “I am more than capable of taking care of myself. As is Margo.”

They held eye contact for a minute, having a silent conversation Margo couldn’t follow. Finally, Ashton conceded and followed his brothers out of the house.

:: ::

It happened in herbology.

That morning, Margo had woken up in her own bed feeling a little dizzy and disoriented. These spells had been happening more frequently, but she chalked it up to stress and dismissed it. She should have told Luke, but he was prone to worrying over the smallest of things. Plus, it had only been a week and a half since his brothers had shown up at his door unannounced, and, no matter how “good” he claimed to be doing, she could still see something bothered him.

So, she didn’t think twice about chugging her weight in tea and going to work. The dizziness plagued her throughout the day. Two hours into her three-hour herbology lab, she was standing in front of the class explaining how gymnosperms grew and reproduced. It was imperative for her students to understand plant life on a cellular level if they were ever to successfully manipulate plant growth.

The funny thing was - she felt it coming on. She felt herself grow dizzier and heard her words begin to slur. She chose to fight through it. Then, one minute she was talking about fertilization and pollen cones, the next, her feet give way below her, and the world went dark.

. . . . . .

When she opened her eyes the first time, the world was hazy. She clearly made out an IV drip bag and an oddly familiar man standing at the edge of her bed. His arms were crossed, and he looked like he was there as some sort of protection detail. Margo had the distinct feeling he was there for her. Whether it was to protect her from someone or to protect someone from her, she did not know.

“Hey. Look who’s awake,” came an oddly chipper voice from somewhere outside of her line of sight. Margo almost turned to search for it, but there was a pressure on her left hand. She turned to that instead.

Luke. He was staring at her with worry in his baby blues, gripping her hand tightly.

“What,” she opened her mouth to ask what had happened. Then, a cool hand she knew had to be vampiric brushed her curls from her face and shushed her.

“Try to sleep if you can,” it said. “We'll explain everything later.”

She knew that voice, much like she knew the man standing at the edge of her bed. Before she could search her mind for their identity, something pulled her under, and the world went black again.

. . . . . .

The next time she came to, the man was still at her bedside, arms crossed, watching her intently. Her brain felt less foggy this time, and she instantly recognized the man as, “Calum.”

With the tiniest of motions, Calum quirked his lips upwards in the ghost of a smirk. She wondered if he was comfortable standing ramrod straight like that. He looked like he hadn’t moved since she last opened her eyes.

It took him snickering for her to realize she had said that last thought aloud. “I like this position.” He said. “I’ve got clear eyes on everything in the room.”

“Not the door,” Margo pointed out obviously, gesturing to the large door looming behind him. That was what it took for Margo to realize that, despite the drip IV, she was not in a hospital room. This was someone’s house.

Calum shrugged. “That’s what Mikey’s for.”

She noticed Michael then, sitting in a loveseat underneath a large window. It was nighttime, and heavy blackout curtains were pushed aside to reveal what looked like deep woods. He had a Nintendo DS in his hand and was obviously more focused on the game than the other two people in the room.

“Don’t let Calum fool you,” he said, fingers still moving furiously on the buttons of the game. “I do not give a rats ass about security and espionage. At least, not as much Calum and Ashton do.”

He said all this without ever looking up from the small device in her hand.

“Espionage?” She croaked out.

Michael nodded, blissfully unaware of Calum’s glare. “Calum’s the family spy.”

Margo eyed Calum. When she had first seen him, she had believed him to be the muscle of the group. The way he exuded danger made Michael’s words seem less like a joke–as if Calum really was some vampire spy. She didn’t have time to think on this, however, because the dark mahogany door swung open to reveal Luke with Ashton flanking him.

Luke rushed immediately to her side. She didn’t miss how haggard he looked. Briefly, she wondered how long she had been in this bed. However long that was had obviously taken a toll on Luke. Vampires, as far as she knew, did not get tired, but there were unmistakable bags under his eyes, and his pale skin seemed lighter under the harsh overhead lights. She reached out to him, and he knelt at her bedside and slotted his hand into hers.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked as his thumb gently rubbed circles on the back of her hand.

“I could ask you the same thing.” She tried to shit up, but a palm came to rest on her shoulder, stopping her. “Don’t try to do too much too quickly,” Ashton warned, gently pushing her back down.

She obeyed, hoping that it would make them more agreeable with what she was about to ask next. The question had been on her mind since she awoke the first time. She had to know, “What happened?”

She remembered feeling dizzy in her herbology class, but not much else.

Furtive glances were exchanged around the room as everyone, even Michael, turned their attention to Luke. Luke’s focus was on her. He looked as if those were the last words he’d wanted to hear from her. The longer everyone took to acknowledge her question, the more she wondered if she should have waited. Perhaps this was something Luke was uncomfortable talking about around his brothers.

She slipped her hand out of his so she could brush his hair out of his face.

“It’s okay.” Despite how weak her voice was, she tried to convey all the love she had for him in those two words. Whatever it was, they would work through it.

He leaned into her palm. “You tell her Calum,” He eventually said, shifting all attention to the 6 ft vampire looming over her.

Calum uncrossed his arms and braced them against the foot of the bed. Dark brown eyes told her the story would be emotionally exhausting.

“I came to UoA a month ago to visit Luke.”

Margo’s brow furrowed. She hadn’t heard anything about this visit.

“He didn’t know I was coming. I got into town then tracked his scent.”

“It’s a kink of his,” Michael interrupted with an easy grin. He had abandoned his DS in favor of paying attention to the story. With everyone in the room on the wrong side of somber, she welcomed his quips. “He likes to pop up out of nowhere and scare the holy hell out of people.”

Calum ignored him and continued on. “I followed his scent straight to the Gamma Nu house. When I got there, I assumed that perhaps he was just inside with some witch. We’re all aware of Luke’s. . .”

He trailed off as if afraid of offending her, and she laughed. “Propensity to be a hoe?” She finished for him. When she had first met Luke, he was slipping out of her housemate's room with no shirt on. She was no stranger to his promiscuous behavior.

Calum smiled, amused at her choice of words. “Propensity to be a hoe yes. But, when I listened in, he didn’t seem to be anywhere inside. Instead, I found you. You were sitting at your desk buried in some book about potions and muttering to yourself. I watched you for hours trying to figure out how Luke’s scent was so intermingled with yours. I couldn’t find where your scent ended, and his began. I knew, of course, but I didn’t want to accept it. I didn’t think Luke would be stupid enough to take a mate without contacting one of us first.”

At that, he shot a look at Luke. Luke grimaced, ashamed. Margo ran her hand through his hair again in a gesture of assurance, then looked to Calum to continue.

Ashton did instead. He was still at her shoulder, looking down at her as he spoke, “Margo, what do you know about vampire mating?”

“I know that it’s instigated with a mark, like the one on my chest.” The hand that was not in Luke’s hair came up to rest on her chest, touching the mark through her shirt. “That’s the physical aspect of it. There is a mental and emotional aspect to it as well.” Margo trailed off. She didn’t know much about said mental and emotional aspects. She figured Luke would explain those to her when they decided to take the next step.

Michael spoke next, now at the edge of his seat. She remembered Luke’s mention of his bond with someone named Crystal. Perhaps he was their resident expert on bonding. “This is how a bond works. If a vampire has the intention of mating someone, and that person has the intention of accepting said bond, when he bites that person, he’ll be able to feel the bond form from inside him. If he lets it, the bond will wash over both parties like a wave. Then, it is up to the bitten to accept the bond. This act deepens the mental and emotional connection of a couple. In rare instances, the couple will be compatible enough to hear each other's thoughts and feel each other’s emotions. Even when they aren’t as compatible, these bonds are nearly impossible to break. That’s why bonds can never be between strangers and can never be nonconsensual. It’s kind of like your magic in the way that it senses what both parties want, and creates that for them.”

“Luke,” Calum picked up, “has wanted to mate you for a very long time now. And judging by the way his biology is behaving, I’m guessing you wanted to mate him as well. Yet, every time he bit you and that bond began forming, he would suppress it.”

Margo glanced over to Luke, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Which ended up confusing his biology.” Calum continued. “Driving him to want to be near you, to be in you, to bite you, to complete the bond by any means necessary. It’s why he was drinking from you every time you had sex. It’s why you fainted. He took too much blood too quickly, and your system couldn’t handle it. Instances like this are rare, and usually lead to obsessive behavior on the part of the vampire.”

“But Luke wasn’t obsessive,” Margo pointed out. She had dated wizards more obsessive than him.

“Not where you could see,” Calum said.

Luke dropped his forehead to the bed, perhaps to avoid feeling the eyes on him. He was ashamed of whatever Calum had to say next.

“I followed you both for days before calling in Ashton and Michael as reinforcement. On the nights you spent apart, Luke spent them standing outside your window. He started making up theology classes because he didn’t want you to know he had spent your entire TA period sitting in a car outside of the greenhouse, straining to hear your heartbeat. Worst of all, he stopped hunting and started getting all his blood from you.”

“What?” Margo croaked out. Luke looked up then, and she couldn’t miss the welling of tears in his eyes.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” He said solemnly. “We have only been dating for what, almost a year now? It is way too early for us to mate. I was hoping that if I ignored it, maybe it would go away.”

“The bond can be suppressed, Luke. But not as long as you keep drinking from her.” Ashton grumbled. Then, with a pointed look at Margo, he added, “If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” Luke answered for her. “She’s young. She hasn’t even finished her degree yet. I can’t just shackle her to me forever.”

“Let her speak, Luke,” Calum ordered.

With every eye on Margo, she wasn’t sure what to say. Luke was the love of her life, and she wanted more than anything to be mated to him. She tried to tell herself that it didn’t make a difference if it happened that moment or in a year when she had her degree.

You are but mortal woman. Time is now to be dreaded - since once he put that mark upon your throat.

She bitterly remembered the words of Bram Stoker. Time moved differently for her and Luke, she had always known that. Where she wanted to rush, he took his time. This was no different.

She tried to remind herself that, as Luke said, it was forever. Repeated exposure to his venom through a mating mark would expose her to super-powered vampiric proteins, probiotics, and antibodies that would stop her aging and make her impossible to kill. She wouldn’t be a vampire per se, but something else. A hybrid between what she was now and what he was. These were rare, she knew, as vampires and witches were not used to coming together for more than politics and sex. Perhaps an extra year of normalcy was what it would take to give Luke the peace of mind about changing her.

“It’s fine,” she finally said. “We can wait.”

She brought her hand down to where Luke’s rested on the bed and squeezed gently. “What about Luke, though? What’s going to happen if we don’t bond?”

“Nothing,” responded Calum with an easy shrug. “So long as he starts hunting again and stops drinking from you.”

“Like forever?” Margo asked, then blush at how dejected she sounded.

Michael laughed, but said, “Until he’s ready to mate you, yeah.”

That made her stomach sink. It was fine. As much as she liked the biting, she could go a year without it. “Is that going to be hard for you?” She relayed the question to Luke this time.

“It’s fine. The boys will take me hunting. It will help.”

“How long are you guys staying?” As she asked this question, Margo took note of how the air in the room lightened. Ashton left her side to stand by Michael’s loveseat under the window, Michael picked up his game, and Calum’s shoulders relaxed just a little. (She was beginning to think that relaxed shoulders were all she would get from him.)

Ashton answered her question, still staring out into the darkness outside the window. “Not sure. I’ve accepted a position teaching classic Greek literature, so quite a while I think.”

“What?” Margo asked, surprised. Ashton didn’t look like the scholarly type. “Are you qualified to teach that?”

Ashton scoffed in response. “I sure hope so. I was there.”

Margo’s mouth dropped. “Wait, how old-”

Luke cut her off. “Don’t ask a vampire how old they are, babe. They’re not fond of that.”

Margo gave Luke a look that let him know she would definitely be asking that question again, but she would at least do Ashton the courtesy of asking at a later date.

She was almost all caught up now, but there was one question still on her mind.

“Where am I?”

All four vampires laughed.

“Oh!” exclaimed Calum, remembering that he left out that little detail. “It’s our house. It’s in the woods behind UoA. Hospitals kind of cause sensory overload for vampires, so when you fainted, health services allowed Ashton to bring you here.”

“What, just like that?” asked Margo, confused.

“Well, Ashton has a medical degree, so it’s not like you weren’t in good hands.”

Of course. Vampires were fond of their multiple degrees.

“So y’all thought ‘lemme buy a house, so we don’t have to go to a hospital.”

Calum snickered at that, but Ashton was the one who answered. “I’ve owned this house for years. Since a little after the school was built. I thought it would be nice to have if I ever decided to come and get another degree. For all intents and purposes, it belongs to the clan now.”

“It belongs to you too,” Michael added. “You’re family now, whether you like it or not.”

Margo matched his grin. Raised in a household that was always just her and her mother, she dreamed of having a big family. As far as family went, Calum, Ashton, and Michael seemed more than perfect.

end notes: i can’t believe how obsessed i am with this series lmao! i’ve already started writing part 3!! anyway, i hope you like cal, mikey & ashton in this one. let me know what you think!

tag list: @5sosnsfw / @bloodmoonashton / @lukescaboose / @5sex-of-summa / @deviantnines / @halcyonnhood / @gh0st-0f-y0u-95 / @aspiringwildfire / @cal-pal-cuddles / @sweetcherrymike / @hereforlukescruff / @softforcal / @ohhmuke / @fratcalum / @calumamongmen / @ashtonandcalslefthand / @asht0ns-world / @colorful-queen-of-the-roses / @heavenlydrarry / @slowlyelectronictragedy / @myemptywallets / @pagesuponstpages / @fallfrxmgrace / @thefireisgone / @michaelorwhat / @dammitbands / @sugarcoated-pain / @sublimehood / @cal-puddies / @singt0mecalum / @irwinkitten / @myloverboyash / @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles

203 notes · View notes

marriedthedark · 5 years

Text

Ladybug Week: Day 8 - Free Day

A/N: Wasn’t able to contribute for days 6 and 7 unfortunately, but I had a lot of fun with this shipping week nonetheless. I saw this stupid AU that was all “imagine your otp pretending to be engaged for two hours to get free wedding cake samples” and then this happened.

Modern AU, 1.4k words

“I can’t believe you made me agree to this.”

Ruby led her girlfriend down the busy street by her arm, a cheeky grin plastered across her face.

“You’ll thank me once you get a mouthful of delicious cakey goodness!”

“We could’ve just gone inside and ordered like normal people.”

“But this is way more fun! And free. Besides, I declare the both of us enjoy some free cake together!"

Blake felt the corner of her mouth turn up in a small smirk in spite of herself. She couldn’t remember having done anything this objectively silly before, and yet a small part of her was undeniably excited for what this outing could hold for her and Ruby.

“With what authority do you make this declaration exactly?”

”My authority as your girlfriend!” Ruby stated with glee. She finished her teasing with a quick sticking out of her tongue.

Soon the pair arrived at Black Flower Cake Shoppe in downtown Vale. Before entering, Ruby immediately locked arms with Blake, prompting the other girl to stare at her questioningly.

“We gotta make it convincing. Our cover story is you proposed to me by a waterfall outside the city. Oh and we’ve been together for three years now with our pet cat Tulip.”

“Ruby, we don’t even have rings-“

Blake’s observation was cut short by Ruby planting a simple silver ring on her left ring finger.

“I came prepped,” she said proudly.

Blake raised a brow as she examined the ring sitting on her finger. Her inkling was confirmed as she noticed the matching ring displayed on Ruby’s hand.

“You stole these from Yang didn’t you?”

“Shhhhhh she doesn’t have to know,” Ruby pouted in annoyance. Sometimes Blake was too observant for her own good.

Blake hid a giggle behind her free hand.

“Don’t worry, I won’t say a word to Yang,” she assured her.

Satisfied with Blake’s promise, the duo finally entered the bake shop. Blake inhaled deeply as the scent of sugar and fresh pastries filled her nostrils; the prospect of free cake suddenly sounded all the more appealing.

Once at the counter, Ruby prepared to ask the lady at the register about free samples. Much to her surprise however, Blake ended up speaking first.

“Hi, I know this may seem a bit abrupt but my lovely fiancé here just couldn’t wait,” she shot Ruby a playful, pointed look as she spoke. “Would it be possible for us to sample wedding cake flavors today?”

Put off by her girlfriend’s unexpected dedication to her role, Ruby felt her mouth open and close hopelessly as she desperately tried finding words to defend herself. She didn’t get a chance however, as the woman behind the counter smiled warmly at them.

“Of course! It shouldn’t be a problem at all. If you have a seat at one of those tables I’ll have someone bring out some of our best flavors.”

Blake smiled in return as she thanked the woman. Ruby meanwhile pouted all the way towards the back of the bakery where they seated themselves at one of the tables they had been directed to.

“What happened to my cover story and everything?” she harshly whispered to Blake once they were out of earshot.

Blake shrugged innocently. “We didn’t need it,” she said simply followed by a mischievous wink.

Ruby stuck her tongue out at Blake again. Despite the early embarrassment, she couldn’t help but feel giddy over Blake taking initiative with her “plan.”

After a few minutes had gone by, another woman arrived at their table with a large tray in hand. After placing it on the table, Ruby fought to contain her excitement at the various slices displayed before them.

”Our signature flavor is our lemon summer berry which is a simple vanilla cake filled with our homemade lemon mousse and fresh raspberries, over here we have our classic red velvet with cream cheese frosting…

The women’s voice faded to the background as Blake observed Ruby in amusement. Her large, silver eyes clearly hung on to every word that came out of the baker’s mouth as she pointed to and explained each of the slices.

Blake was snapped out of her pleasant observation session when she felt her ankle kicked under the table.

”How did you two lovebirds meet?” the woman asked. Judging by Ruby’s kick, this was likely a repeated question.

”Oh! We met in college actually. We had a literature class together and we-“

”Actually it was an art class,” Ruby interjected. Blake couldn’t conceal her look of confusion as she stared at her girlfriend across the table, a smug look on her face.

”How could you forget how we met?” Ruby continued in mock offense. Blake felt her cheeks beginning to burn as she again became aware of the woman continuing to watch the exchange.

The woman laughed. “Well I’ll leave you two to sort that out. Let me know if you have any questions or would like to arrange a formal consolation.”

With that, Ruby and Blake were left alone with four small slices of cake between them. Blake narrowed her eyes suspiciously as Ruby snickered.

“You deliberately tried to embarrass me,” she stated to her girlfriend.

”Only because you embarrassed me first!” Ruby cried out in defense. She quickly covered her mouth after noticing several people had turned their head to see who was talking so loudly.

Clearly, you don’t need me to embarrass you,” Blake coolly observed as she bought a forkful of cookies and cream cake to her mouth.

Ruby scowled before working on a slice of blackberry lavender cake. Even with her girlfriend’s quips, she couldn’t help but lighten up once the delicious taste of dessert filled her mouth.

”Here, since we’re clearly already bickering like a married couple, let’s try eating like one too,” Blake laughed as she offered Ruby a fork topped with red velvet. Ruby pursed her lips in a playful pout before allowing Blake to feed her the tasty bite.

“Mmm red velvet is always good,” Ruby hummed happily. She then took a piece of the lemon summer berry and held it over the table.

“Your turn,” she grinned.

Blake playfully rolled her eyes as she leaned forward to accept Ruby’s forkful of cake. She bought her hand to her mouth as she felt several crumbs threaten to fall.

“Oh that one is the best easily,” Blake said while pointing to the cake Ruby had just fed her. “Though if I had to guess, you’d probably want the cookies and cream.”

“How did you know?”

Blake smirked in satisfaction as Ruby finished off the slice she had just mentioned.

“Call it a hunch.”

After several more minutes of sharing and deliberating, all four pieces of cake had been consumed. Blake quickly surveyed the bakery to find that they were the only customers inside.

”I guess we can just leave. The tastings are supposed to be free-“

”I say on three we make a break for it,” Ruby cut her off, her eyes glued to the door.

”Ruby, I don’t think we have to-"

”Three!” She shouted in a whisper before grabbing Blake’s arm and making a beeline to the door. Against her better judgment, Blake allowed herself to hastily follow Ruby out the door and down the street from which they came.

Ruby started to laugh once the pair was a safe distance from the bakery. Blake tried to glare at her goofy girlfriend only to find herself laughing alongside her.

”You are an absolutely terrible influence on me,” Blake lightly admonished Ruby as they continued back to the car.

"Don’t act like you didn’t just have the best time ever,” Ruby said lightheartedly as she skipped ahead, still holding on to Blake’s hand.

"Oh, I’m not denying,” Blake said thoughtfully. “I was just going to mention that, since we’re already out, there’s another bakery across town that also does free wedding cake sampling.”

Ruby’s skipping halted as she turned around.

”Blake Belladonna, suggesting we go do the same fun and dumb thing we just did again? I’m in!” Ruby quickly closed the distance between them as she threw herself around Blake in a great bear hug.

Blake smiled as she returned Ruby’s embrace.

"Actually, if we’re going to continue this scheme you started, it’ll soon be Blake Belladonna-Rose to you,” she laughed before bringing their lips together in a sweet kiss.

#rwby #ladybugweek2k19 #rwby ladybug #blake belladonna #ruby rose #my writing #ladybug

50 notes · View notes

brokenmusicboxwolfe · 4 years

Text

Day 6 without sculpting...

In a way it’s weird I miss sculpting so much. This near daily sculpting is actually a relatively recent thing for me.

Actually, for about the first 20 years of my life I can count every time I sculpted on my fingers.

My father inspired my first sculpting. Before I was born he’d dug some clay out of the river bank and sculpted a little baseball sized head with marbles for eyes. It facinated me, so at about four I dug some clay out of a ditch and tried to sculpt two full figures. I let them dry on a plank in the summer sun....and they crumbled. Amazingly, one of the heads survives to this day.

In kindergarten we had a cool teacher with his own kiln. Technically he had us making little pots. I used the scrap and made a little alien head with big almost Mickey Mouse ears that he glazed for me and a little alien with loops for arms that I colored with crayons. He left at the end of the year, takng his kiln with him.

In second grade the new teacher had us make dough art angels. This was an “everyone copy the teacher” deal, so no real self expression. Let me tell you, dough art does not last in this climate. That angel no longer existed within a year.

My parents gave me some plasticine type clay for my 10th birthday. Unfortunately that sort of clay never can be made hard, and I really wanted something that would “stay”. I barely used it.

When I was in 9th grade the art class had a paper mache project. Or at least they called it that. Really it was a structure out of wire, newspaper and masking tape covered with plaster bandages. I made a dragon, Lockheed from the X-Men in fact, but that was that. No way could I get the plaster bandages myself, and I didn’t care for the rough surfaces.

And that was that for growing up.

The weird thing is, I actually was always drawn to sculpting, but it never occured to me I should sculpt. I loved physical objects that depicted living things and always noticed when stories included sculpting. Heck, I even started writing a fantasy story involving a sculptor and magical sculptures. But actual sculpting wasn’t even a daydream.

And then one day my hands got bored. It was an unusual day, a day off while Pop was away. Free time meant I could do what I wanted. In this case it was to watch a movie (The Brothers Karamazov), read a book (don’t remember what), read a magazine (dunno) and listen to music (forget what)....all at the same time...

Yeah, I’m like that. Always wanting to do several things at once.

There I was, sitting on the floor, all these things around me, and I noticed my hands were bored. Because hands do get bored. Mine do anyway. Just ask them! Pop had some boxes of clay he’d bought for a project but ended up with some left over. On a whim I decided to try sculpting with this “proper” clay.

I made a little bust, a woman with a flower in her hair and a beastie lying round her shoulders. If you look up pics of it (all my sculpting that exists is on my blog) you will see how crude it is, but at the time I was pleased. I’d expected sculpting to be hard, but this was easy!

But we didn’t have a kiln. Well, Pop had one somewhere out in the shop, but he didn’t know where, didn’t have time to look, and wasn’t keen on me pawing around when it was probably behind some unmovable things.

So that was that all over again, the old problem of wanting to sculpt something that would stay.

And then I discovered sculpey!

Now you would think this would kick off constant sculpting, but it was more fitful at first. The trouble was, I did not want to be watched sculpting. I just wanted to goof around with it, stress free. So what I did was sculpt every time I was guaranteed a solid hour to myself. I’d usually go stand on the ramp outside, sculpey in one hand and an old dull pairing knife in the other and sculpt.

This is probably why I sculpt so quickly even now. Back then I just wanted to do it unseen, baking as soon as there was anything at all I liked about it. Now fast sculpting is just secnd nature.

After a bit I branched out, making ornaments and getting roped into making a dollhouse doll for a cousin. I also made several dolls that scale for fun and gifts for my family. I also pleased the four year old me by making a Sleestak from memory. I experimented with gluing a face on one of the boxes I’d painted. (Painting boxes was a thing for me for years) I started running out if space for the busts so I started making magnets and lining all the metal bookcases in my bedroom with faces.

But during all that I could go weeks, even months, without sculpting. I’d paint boxes. I’d write. But all these things shared a little space of free time.

We were busy. The fiberglassing business took a heck of a lot of work. There were all sorts of organizations, causes, meetings I tagged along to, obligations to my family. Making takes time, even if it’s just an hour, and back then I never had insomnia so working after everyone went to bed wasn’t an option.

Still, I made things right along until the weirdness happened. For a several years I had a creative block.

Totally.

Completely.

I didn’t sculpt. Didn’t paint boxes. Didn’t write stories. I didn’t even dream at night.

It was hellish.

I can’t tell you why it happened. I can’t even tell you why it ended. All I can tell you is was if my imagination started to reawaken in 2012, a year that at that time I thought was one of the worst in my life. It started with a painted box here and there. Slowly.

Then 2013 happened, the terrible year of Pop’s illness that made the bad things of 2012 seem pale in comparison. Suddenly I was dreaming, dreaming in overdrive in fact. The dreams I was churning out boxes as fast as I could paint them to “exorcise” those dreams. The dreams occupied my mind constantly. At night they were like serialized stories night after night, during the day I was like an obsessed fangirl disecting and rerunning her favorite show that just happened to be created by my subconscious.

This frantic box painting lasted until the last stages of Pop’s illness, when it stopped. I haven’t painted a box since.

In mid to late 2014, the year Pop died, the cousin I made the Beast doll for sent me a letter. Actually, now that I think about it, it was the last time I heard from her. She said she’s shown the doll to someone she knew that had a dollhouse collector store and they said I had talent, that in fact it was as good as many professional dolls. The cousin suggested, now that our fiberglassing business was gone I should take up doll making.

It sounded reasonable, though I completely doubted that “talent” part. But there were problems with this plan. I hadn’t sculpted in several years and didn’t know if I still could. I wanted to make fully jointed dolls, but making them by hand out of sculpey would be tricky to master. Everything I made (and make) is one of a kind and feels like a part of me, so parting with them would be painful. I needed to figure out how make it easier on myself.

I mean, there is a reason I jokingly call my sculpting “making friends”.

And so I got to work. I decided to use my werewolf box as inspiration, figuring that with these wolf people I could make them enough alike it would be easier to part with them, but enough different I wouldn’t get bored. I could learn to make mold from them, and then selling wouldn’t hurt.

This is when I think my sculpting addiction really began. Instead of sculpting occasionally I was sculpting most nights, and would stay up late when making the bodies.

This period of experimentation lasted for a few months, long enough for me to suffer the disapointment of being an outsider exhibiting at an art show with my odd fantasy dolls. I actually WAS making progress. I liked a few of the dolls snd thought in a few more months I’d be ready to go to the next stage, I even bought molding and casting materials to learn to use...

And the floor collapse happened. This started an ever increasing cascade of disasters that continues to this day.

At first I thought the interuption was temporary. By the end of 2015 I’d be back at learning to make dolls...

Obviously this didn’t happen. For months I kept making heads for future doll experiments, complete with metal loops for stringing them on. I even built a storage box to keep them all in. Eventually the room with the box started to go, so I “temporarily” moved it to the other house. It’s there still.

By then I had a sculpting habit. I needed to sculpt. My fingers would twitch around sculpey. Mom would laugh at how on nights where I didn’t sculpt my eyes would dart to the sculpey every few seconds. She would tease me about it calling to me, but it’s sort of right. In 2015 sculpting had become something that I constantly felt I should be doing.

To be honest, the addiction aspect has only gotten worse with time.

When Mom was here there were more nights I didn’t sculpt, and if I started sculpting as she went to bed she’d remind me not to stay up late. Since her stroke and her going to stay with my brother I’ve been alone. Alone to watch movies and sculpt, with no socializing to distract me and no one to tell me to stop.

Now the nights I don’t sculpt are rare (see last November when I sculpted more faces than there even were days in that month because I sculpted more than one a couple nights). The faces stick with me less though, to the point that when I post pics a month later I have actually forgotten many of them already.

I don’t do anything with these faces. I sculpt them quickly, photograph them, wrap them in tissues and throw them into one of the storage boxes I have for them. Those boxes have literally hundreds of faces by this point.

I shouldn’t NEED to sculpt.

I have spent more days of my life not sculpting than sculpting. I have sculpted more faces in the last year than most people do in a life time. Ignoring the fluke of the one face I sold, I don’t profit by it in any way.

The sculpting is a compulsion, an impulse I can’t resist. I feel a weird guilt and unease when I don’t sculpt. It hasn’t even been a full week without sculpting and it’s driving me nuts. Believe me, I know it’s ridiculous!

#sculpting #artists on tumblr #art

5 notes · View notes

sope-and-shine · 4 years

Text

Christmas Special: Day 12

-> Pairing: Jin and Reader (ft. Taehyung) -> BNHA!AU // Hero!AU // Fluffy -> Word Count: 2.7k -> Summary: When your costume design for your winter suit isn’t what you asked for and no one is answering your requests to have it made correctly, at least you have a friend to protect you from the cold. -> Warning: Minor Character death // catcalling // suggestive and mild language

A/N: Taehyung’s girlfriend in this story is definitely not Admin Belle. Not at all. You’re crazy.

Ever since you were little, you dreamed of becoming a hero just like your brother: Tidal wave. He’s one of the current Top 10 heroes in the country - Top 50 in the world - and has saved over thousands of people! You remember when he was starting out as a hero in training, the days where he would come home and practice in the backyard and break another vase your grandmother kept lying around on the porch. Even with the training he received he still had a long way to go, but overtime, you saw the skills he acquired to become a better version of himself for others, and you watched him grow into the hero you know today.

And that one summer evening when you were 10, and he was out on patrol for the night, he had become your sole guardian without even knowing until he received the call from the hospital. You were finishing up your homework in you room when you heard the banging on the stairs, and when you got up to see what it was you’d found your grandmother lying at the bottom of the stairs. You called for an ambulance with tears in your eyes as you willed her to wake up and just hold on until help could arrive, but she passed before they could get her into a hospital room. You had been heartbroken and almost completely cleaned out of tears when your brother had turned up, but seeing Taehyung rush in with his hero costume on in the same panic you had been in, you couldn’t help but burst into tears once more. You remember throwing yourself into his embrace in an attempt to comfort yourself, but you can also remember how he held you just as tightly in an attempt to comfort himself as well.

It’s been 5 years since then, and the both of you have grown a lot. Taehyung secured his spot on the Top 10 list, he’s enrolled in college, he learned how to bake 4 batches of cookies in 2 hours without burning your house down, and he met a girl. You were surprised when he decided 3 years ago he still wanted to continue his education in case the situation should occur that he needs to retire from hero work, and you completely supported his decision since he’s always been supportive of you.

What you never counted on was him meeting Ara.

Admittedly, you were skeptical at first, being nothing that you would have expected from Tae’s previous relationships - then again, that’s probably why they’ve lasted more than 6 months at this point. She wasn’t mean or anything, but she was much different than any of the other girls. See, most of the girls Taehyung has ever dated have been a bit ditsy, to say the least; Ara was blunt and to the point about what she wanted. Most of these girls had super flashy powers that locked your brother into their grasps; Ara had nothing special about her except for her wit, charm, and her strange obsession with comics and video games that also captured your brother’s heart. The other girls treated you very kindly when they would meet you, but they were just too caught up in his looks to actually pull you into the equation. They wanted his attention to always be on them, and they usually left after they realized they wouldn’t be Taehyung’s main priority while he had you.

But Ara was a total 180 from them.

When he mentioned he took care of his younger sister to her, she immediately demanded to meet you. And when she showed up before you had decided to leave your Toothless onsie from How To Train You Dragon with the ears and tail attached, she vowed that she’d only continue dating him if she got to cuddle you - his “precious and adorable little sister” - when she came over to visit. Dates to the amusement park became a group trip where he was the third wheel instead of you, because his girlfriend loved both of you - but you always teased that she loved you more. She took on the role of a female figure in your life that Taehyung couldn’t fill after your Grandmother’s passing, and that’s probably what made Taehyung fall in love with her even more. They’d seen you off to your first date together, they’d watched your first heartbreak together, and they were there to celebrate your graduation from middle school together.

And when it came time, they helped you prepare yourself for your first year at the Big Hit Academy For Bulletproof Youths.

This academy was for the big leagues, and it was the same school your brother had attended at your age to become the amazing superhero he is today. Everyone you knew wanted to go to school here, and almost every Top Hero in the country studied at this prestigious school to get to where they are. You had every intention to be just like them, and you spent everyday training with your fellow classmates to ensure that you’d make your brother as proud as he made you.

You excelled in the classroom, always studying when you got the chance and even texting Ara for help with anything you were unsure of. In training, you always made sure to take note of your surroundings and study your opponent before you made a move, and that wit and quick thinking you have are what keep you at the top of your game. But most importantly, you always made sure to keep in the good graces of your fellow classmates. You could get as far as you wanted, but if you didn’t keep connections, then you wouldn’t get anywhere in this world. Taehyung was very specific when he gave you tips to stay above water in a school like the one you were attending, and he was very specific that this was the one piece of advice you couldn’t ignore. As always, he was right to do so.

Now, as the summer turns into fall, it’s time that everyone gets their upgraded costumes for the winter. You remember designing these costumes with Ara. She insisted that she be the one to help you, and that Taehyung would be no fun about your creative desires since he insists on a “dress check” before you leave the house every morning. Taehyung himself was not thrilled to be locked out of the room while the two of you worked on the designs, but something Ara said to him while you were working was enough to get him to sit on the living room couch with a pout as he angrily watched Finding Nemo instead. His pink hair and childish ways would make anyone think that he were the child of the house instead of you, but with Ara’s baby blue hair and her own childish attitude to go with his, there was no doubt they were a match made in heaven.

The costume you wear now was one that made everyone turn their heads. Not for its beauty or intricacy, but because you looked like a volleyball player with a tool belt and a stick taller than you. Unlike your brother, you had a genetic mutation with your quirk. Instead of the water manipulation that your brother had, you could manipulate anything; You had telekinesis. Nothing new, but powers weren’t always something special. It was how you used said powers that made you a good hero. The simple shirt and shorts concept made sure you were comfortable and wouldn’t be constricted by your costume. Your tool belt gave you extra tools in case you found yourself in a situation where you couldn’t manipulate anything else. Your ‘stick’ as everyone referred to it was actually retractable, and you kept it on you much longer than just at school. Whenever the situation came that you would manipulate yourself to float for a few seconds, you could extend your stick to push yourself or the danger away with a distance in between. But should it fail, you had your knee and elbow pads to take some of the damage.

Even so, you had faith that your costume design for the winter would be a hit compared to the one you wear now. So when you pull it out to find that it was less clothing than what you wore now, you were shocked. Your new costume was supposed to be a pair of black harem baggy joggers with pockets on your thighs, white knee pads to go on top, and a chain long enough that you could also use for long distance attacks. Your shirt was supposed to be a white short sleeve with a black cropped jacket with a fur lining, and a pair of white elbow pads to go with it.

What you pulled out was nothing that you would have ever put on your design sheet, and you know for a fact you didn’t. They had made you another pair of black shorts with a chain connected to it and mint green knee pads, your shirt was nowhere to be seen - only the cropped jacket with fur - and red elbow pads. Your more conventional snow boots weren’t even in the case you received, just a pair of dainty heeled boots instead. To say you were mortified was an understatement, and you were not about to put the monstrosity on.

You raise your hand and gain the attention of your half asleep teacher, “Mr. Min! They’ve made my costume wrong! I can’t wear this for winter, I’ll freeze faster than water!”

“You can file for them to replace it with the correct one, but you’ll have to wear it for training in the meantime.” He sighs, pulling the forms out of the top drawer of his desk without even blinking an eye,

Now, almost two weeks into December and snow lying on the ground, you were still stuck with the same costume you’ve filed to be replaced 7 times already. Your friends had been entertained the first few times you were forced to wear the monstrosity during your classes, but as the weeks drug on and you’d be starting your internship at an agency in a few days, they started to feel bad that nobody was answering your requests for the costume change. They were starting to get as upset as you were, and Taehyung was probably the most upset by this. He saw your costume during a festival, and he was ready to beat your ass and Ara’s for keeping it from him.

“How could you let that go?!” Taehyung demands, gesturing to you and your provocative costume while glaring at his just as equally confused girlfriend.

Ara was not about to go down for a crime she did not commit, “I didn’t do this! I helped her design a wholesome costume that God, Jesus, and Mr. Rodgers would approve of! This is blasphemy!”

The two continue their conversation, Ara swearing on God and doughnuts that she would never let you wear anything like that until you were at least 18. You’re classmates are left in confusion, “These are your care-takers?”

“Yeah...they are…” You sigh, your arms wrapped around yourself.

But now you were at the point where you just had to suck it up, no matter how much you hated it. Thankfully, you had at least one friend joining you in the field, even if Jin did make dad jokes at the worst times.

“How do you get a squirrel to like you? Act like a nut!” Jin says, bursting into his laugh that sounds way too close to a windshield wiper. He was a gravity manipulator, so you both thought interning together would be a good chance to help each other expand on your quirks. Only now, you regret having his bright demeanor when you just want to curl into a ball. “Wait wait wait, I’ve got another one...Why don’t eggs tell jokes?”

“Why don’t egg-“ “They’d crack each other up!” He yells, interrupting you before you could ask why. He laughs at himself until he catches your bored expression, “What’s wrong? You usually like my jokes.”

You sigh, “Don’t get me wrong, Jin. I love your jokes, but I’m not exactly in the best of moods right now.”

“That’s why I started to tell you my jokes!” He defends. When you just shrug, he takes a look at your dainty costume compared to his own long sleeved, long pants, and large coat that still allowed him to move freely as he needed to. You looked ten times more miserable than he did. “Your costume must really be uncomfortable.”

“It’s below freezing and I’m wearing shorts with a crop top. What do you think?” You spit with no regard for his feelings.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, looking away to the path ahead of you. You sigh, “No, I’m sorry. You were only trying to help and I was rude for no reason.”

As you both get back to your patrol, you turn the corner and approach a shop that’s crowded by a group of men outside. One of them catches sight of you, “Hey, cutie! You looking to warm up with someone special this year?”

“Such a pretty thing~ Why don’t you come inside and I’ll buy you a nice warm drink?” Another jests, looking at every piece of you except for your face.

“A drink for me? You boys are really something else nowadays~ I hate to break it to you fellas, but I’m spoken for already!” Jin calls back with an award winning smile. He shrugs off his coat and throws it over your shoulders, followed by his arm that pulls you as close to him as he can manage without breaking the happy facade he’s putting up, “Good luck finding someone more beautiful than me!”

The men look disgusted and confused, but they decide to ignore the both of you as Jin leads you far away. You’re almost back to your agency when you finally speak up again, “Thanks Jin.”

“It’s the holiday season, and all they can think about is shouting obscenely at women. If I saw anyone shout at my mother or my future daughter like that, then I would have decked him square in the mouth.” He admits, sounding like a completely different person than you had just witnessed, “I just figured you would like it better if there wasn’t any confrontation at all.”

“Well, you were right. I can’t wait to get out of this costume and into my sweater.” You sigh, already seeing the agency doors at the end of the block. You look up to Jin out of the corner of your eye, “But I did enjoy the looks on their faces when you thanked them for their offer.”

“And I gave up that offer to continue our patrol together. Honestly, I think someone owes me a meal.” He suggests. He turns to you with a shy smile and squeezes your shoulder a little, “Maybe I could take you out after this?”

“I’d love to, but I have dinner planned tonight with my brother and his girlfriend.” You say. Jin looks a little disappointed, and you can’t help but smile, “But I know Ara wouldn’t mind feeding an extra mouth.”

Jin looks happy, but a sudden thought has him looking concerned, “And your brother?”

“He’ll get over it when I tell him about the date you gave up for me.” You shrug.

And you were right about that indeed. When you showed up at your door with Jin next to you - both of you wrapped in your coats and his arm over your shoulder - Taehyung was ready to brawl if you wouldn’t have sent a warning text to Ara. She had her arms wrapped around your brothers torso to keep him from moving without her, effectively slowing him down enough for you to get Jin inside and showing him the house. (You would have shown him your room where you kept your gaming PC, but Taehyung would actually murder both you and Ara if it meant no more boi.) By the time you got to the dinner table, Taehyung had calmed down enough to listen to your day and warm up to Jin just enough to have an actual conversation instead of an interrogation.

He liked him. You could tell.

And you weren’t surprised when they became the best of friends at the next dinner you invited him to.

13 notes · View notes

kratikasaxena · 4 years

Text

Is your health and fitness routine broken? 10 things to do and stay in shape

How to build a “system” that helps you get back on track.

A healthy lifestyle is never effortless. Only for many of us, it feels unusually hard right now. Shockingly so, perhaps.

Yes, stress, overwhelm, and depression may all be contributing factors and to cope with all these factors now you can find 3meds online medicine service available for 24 hours medicine home delivery .

The pandemic just broke your “system.”

More importantly, we’ll help you build a new health and fitness system—one that’s better designed for your current situation.

But only when you’re ready. Because it’s also okay to grieve for what you’ve lost before even considering taking steps to move forward. You have lots of systems already like.

a.Regularly exercise

b.Eat appropriate amounts of nutritious foods

c.Engage in other healthy behaviors

In fact, you probably use systems to organize just about every part of your life. Systems help us prioritize what to do and when to do it—so we can complete the actions efficiently and effectively.

Take grocery shopping. We all do it our own way, but most of us have a method—such as planning meals, compiling a list, shopping on a certain day, clipping coupons, or navigating the passageway in a specific order.

And that structured step-by-step process? It ensures we don’t run out of essential items when we need them.

Before COVID-19 turned our lives upside down, these systems helped many of us fit workouts and nutritious meals into incredibly busy schedules.

Then everything changed.

As a result, our systems were disrupted.

And that’s causing many of us to struggle to maintain certain actions.

A. Like exercise.

·B Like meal prep.

·C Like sleep hygiene.

·D Like any semblance of productivity.

Building new health and fitness system

So take a moment to consider:

Take a moment to think about how your daily life looked pre-pandemic.

Lay out your fitness clothes before bed (to prompt you to exercise first thing in the morning)

Connect with friends over video (since you can’t meet them out)

Make your lunch the night before (even though you’ll be eating at home)

Sound sleep (Getting seven to nine hours of sleep each night)

Create a workout space in your garage, basement, or bedroom—and exercise at the same time you used to go to the gym..

System you need

Before the COVID-19 pandemic, your need to go to work, staying active, eating nutritious foods, restful sleep, and other priorities easier and more automatic they were.

Just think about your entire day from beginning to end.

Consider your need and here are 10 things to do and stay in shape you will be back on track:

1. Don't turn the relapse into a moral issue. You're not a bad person or destined to be fat just because you slipped up. Think of the setback as a way to develop coping skills. Lean on people around you for motivation, accountability, get their support and help.

2. Learn from your experience. If you don't recognize what led you to fall off the diet wagon, you'll probably react the same way the next time the situation arises. Write down a list of the situations that trigger you to overeat, and plan an alternative for each. For example, if parties are your downfall, have a healthy snack beforehand to keep your appetite in check.

3. Don't try to make up for the slip with a punishing regime of diet and exercise. You may lose weight this way, but you're almost sure to gain it back. This will only set up an unhealthy pattern of gaining and losing, and create anxiety about your relationship with food.

4. Look at the big picture. Realize that weight loss requires a decrease in calories over time, but it doesn't matter what the exact time period is. So consider your food intake a week or a month at a time instead of every day. Chances are you'll have good days and bad days, and slipping up once in a while isn't that big of a deal. You can always make up for it later in the week, or at the next meal.

5. Renew your motivation. Going off your diet is a signal that your motivation has veered off track. So sit down and take stock: When you were following your program, how did you feel? What was motivating you then? Recreating those feelings can help you get your incentive back.

6. Plan ahead to keep��hunger at bay. When you let yourself get too hungry, it's all too easy to overeat. To avoid that, plan nutritious snacks into your day. When you're away from home, carry a "snack pack" filled with healthy options: things like dried and fresh fruits, baby carrots, nonfat yogurt, trail mix, whole-grain cereal, nuts, and baked chips.

7. Don't deprive yourself. Cutting out all your favorite foods is a sure-fire way to trigger feelings of deprivation that can lead to a binge. Instead, choose healthier options: have a half-cup of low-fat frozen yogurt instead of a pint of ice cream, a bite-sized candy bar instead of a whole one.

8. Don't stop moving. Even if you can't make it to the gym, duck out for a 20-minute walk. Exercise not only helps you burn the extra calories you took in while you were off your plan, but it also relieves boredom and stress that can trigger overeating.

9. Find an "accountability partner." This can be a fellow dieter, or just a friend or family member who'll provide encouragement for your efforts. Tell your partner, friends and family about your intentions and goals and check in regularly to help keep you on track.

10. Change your routine. Use starting anew as an opportunity to try a new exercise class, aerobics -- maybe belly dancing -- and add some new, healthy foods to your regime (visit your local farmer's market for inspiration). It will add spark to your routine and keep you from getting bored.

Concerns are growing that being cooped up indoors all day due to the pandemic-induced lock-downs have created greater risks for high blood pressure, hypertension, coronary heart disease, stroke, diabetes and mental illness. Keeping these things in mind 3meds@doorstep best medical online shop in India just few clicks away.

#stayhome #stayhopeful #staysafe #fitnessgoals #eatinghealthy #nutritiousfood #balanceddiet #healthcare

1 note · View note

1989dreamer · 4 years

Text

In Your Little Werewolf Oven

On AO3

Summary: Danny moves to New York City and ends up opening a bakery called Little Werewolf Oven and most of his clientele ends up being supernatural.

As his reputation grows, Danny finds himself overwhelmed, so he advertises a position and gets not one, but two blasts from the past in the form of Derek Hale and his boyfriend, Stiles Stilinski.

Things work out great for Danny because now, not only does he have more time to do the things he wants, but he also meets his future husband through Derek and Stiles.

Life couldn’t be greater, Danny thinks.

Note: Andrew Erickson would be played by Aldis Hodge if on screen.

Main relationship: Danny/Andrew

Background relationship: Derek/Stiles

~ * ~

Danny makes his break with Beacon Hills when he chooses colleges. He graduates high school a semester early and then heads out.

No one even notices that he’s gone.

Well, no one except cousin Miguel who asks if he feels safe, if he thinks he needs help with the supernatural, and if he wants to keep in touch.

Yes, no, and not really.

Derek Hale is simultaneously the kindest and most fearsome person Danny knows. Mostly because there was a rumor floating around school before he left that Derek had killed both his uncle and a junior at the high school, Vernon Boyd, the third. Well, the uncle was still alive, but Boyd wasn’t, so Danny kindly turns down Derek’s offer of protection and then promptly fucks off to the other side of the country, hoping the distance will be enough.

And it is. For seven years. Long enough to get two bachelor’s in science, physiology and computer science, and to accidentally walk into a cooking class and end up in culinary school just so he can open his own bakery.

He is a bona fide business owner now.

He has no one working for him, so he is only open five hours a day and the rest of his time is spent baking.

It is, in a word, exhausting, but it is his work and it makes him happy.

Business is good for about three months, and then some big name celebrity comes through, orders some of his haupia—which he only made because it was easy and he could set it aside once it was done and not worry about it—and raves about it online.

After that, there is no peace.

Danny can’t get anything done aside from baking and making haupia, and he becomes despondent, trudging from one minute to the next, not even enough time or energy to swipe right on his dating app.

Yes. While Danny was in college, he had also taken time to create a new dating app for LGBTQ+ people. He has gone on a few dates using the app, and the experience is far superior to Grindr or just meeting someone at a bar. But now he doesn’t even have time for that.

He is horny and tired and he really needs help.

Well. Online applications are a thing. So, all he has to do is find three minutes to post something. He finds the time the next morning during breakfast, so he types up a job requirement and application and posts it.

By that afternoon, he has sixty-some applicants.

Okay. So it will take more than three minutes this time.

Great.

~ * ~

Three weeks later, Danny still hasn’t sifted through all the applications. He is desperate, yes, but also too busy. It would be nice if he can just point at someone and assign them to work with him.

He has, however, managed to make an update to his app, and has received favorable feedback. So, while he is still unable to take a moment to breathe, at least he has money to hire someone to go through the applications for the bakery.

It’s a selkie named Ryliegh, visiting her cousin who lives in the apartment across the hall from him, and she is fantastic at everything except baking.

Danny feels a little more at ease with her watching his back. His store, while crowded with humans of every shape, size, and color, is also filled to the brim with supernatural beings who like to take pictures with the bakery’s sign, get something to go, and then hang out on the minimal furniture Danny had grudgingly added a few months back to compete with the Starbucks two blocks away from him.

Why he is a supernatural draw, Danny doesn’t know. Could be the sign.

There are very few things Danny has kept from his life in Beacon Hills, but a stage-whispered conversation between Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall made the list, and his bakery is named Little Werewolf Oven.

Anyway. Danny views the supernatural as closeted. They don’t want the world to know they exist because the world would respond negatively. Hell, the first week he’d been open, a hunter had stopped by to ask him about the sign, and Danny had pretended to be obsessed with Jacob from Twilight—not that Taylor Lautner isn’t a hotty-mchotty who Danny had actually crushed on for a quick minute.

After the hunter left, it had taken everything in him to 1) not call Derek Hale to come make sure he was okay (not having Derek’s number helped) and 2) to remain open. What if the hunters came into his bakery all the time? They seemed set in their ways, and he knew it wouldn’t just be the supernatural population that was in danger. He himself might be targeted for “being different.”

Anyway. That hunter hasn’t come back nor has he told his friends about Danny, and so the supernatural and LGBTQ+ populations have claimed him.

And then Danny made haupia and never has peace anyway.

~ * ~

Ryleigh corners him a month after he hired her and slaps a stack of papers into his chest.

“What’s this?” he asks, amused if a little sad that they had reverted to this non-technological way of doing things. It’s so much easier to look at his phone than to read physical texts.

“Reviews,” Ryleigh says. “And an application. I suggest you hire him. He’s perfect.”

“Reviews of what?” Danny flips through the stack quickly. Ah, the bakery. It is now officially on some site that directs tourists around. Great. He is going to be swamped.

Then suddenly, in the middle of the stack is a job application, generic, hand-filled. Pretty script. Neat words. Derek Hale.

Danny drops the papers.

“What?” Ryleigh demands. “What’s wrong?”

“I know this guy.” Danny picks up Derek’s resume. On paper, Derek does sound perfect. And he even has work experience in a bakery. Who knew?

“Is he bad?” Ryleigh asks.

“Not exactly,” Danny replies, still studying Derek’s skills. “In fact, why don’t you give him a call, see if he can make it in for a test run soon.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Ryleigh wanders away, phone already on her ear. Danny picks up the rest of the reviews and sticks them in his office for when he, maybe, will have time to read them. Some of them look so sweet.

For now, though, someone’s gotta make more haupia because someone announced, on their social media no less, with about 10,000 followers, that tomorrow is the official day of the week that they will have it.

Well. At least it’s just one day a week. Danny can deal with one day.

~ * ~

Derek Hale returns Ryleigh’s call by the following afternoon, and she patches in Danny so they can talk.

“How soon can you start?” Danny asks, prepared for anything from a week to a month.

“Is tomorrow too soon?” Derek asks instead, and Danny can’t believe his good fortune.

“Sure, yeah,” he says, and then realizes he sounds desperate. Well he is, so fuck it. “Okay, Derek, you’re hired. Just bring in your social security card, driver’s license, and a bank account number with routing information so that I can direct deposit your paycheck.”

“Wonderful,” Derek deadpans. “See you tomorrow.”

Ryleigh gives him a thumbs up before she heads out for her night class. She’s taking computer science because she likes designing mobile games. Danny supports her wholeheartedly except he never downloads her apps. He doesn’t need the distraction. He still doesn’t have any time for dates, much less wasting time on his phone.

Derek will be such a relief. Too bad it isn’t tomorrow yet.

Whatever. Sleeves up. Maybe if he gets done before 9:00 pm, he can treat himself to that new Italian fine dining restaurant that opened around the corner from his apartment building.

~ * ~

Derek is already at the bakery by the time Danny rolls in at 6:00 am. The Italian was delicious last night, and Danny’s in a good mood which only gets better when he starts showing Derek the ropes. Derek is easy to train and easy-going. He has a bit of sharp wit that comes out when he’s not guarding it, and Danny feels honored that he gets to see it.

Derek’s smile is quick and easy. Danny doesn’t ever remember seeing it in Beacon Hills.

“So why’d you leave Beacon Hills?” he asks once he’s made up an employee file for Derek, noting that although it’s good, his license is fake. “And how old are you anyway?”

Derek rolls his shoulders. “Beacon Hills got too small,” he says, tightly. “The Argents no longer have jurisdiction over hunters there, so another hunting regime moved in. And I’m 28.”

“Yeah? Why does your I.D. say you’re thirty then?”

Derek refuses to make eye contact when he says, “Since my birth certificate was destroyed in the fire, Laura added two years to my age so that she could leave me on my own while she worked. I haven’t changed the I.D. yet because I don’t want to lose that part of her.”

“Understood,” Danny says. “Well, do you have a new I.D.? ‘Cause this one’s about to expire.”

Derek smiles, relief evident in his eyes. “Yeah. I’ll get that done in a couple of days when Stiles gets here.”

“Stiles is coming here too?” For some reason, Danny thought that if Derek left Beacon Hills, he’d leave everything behind. To bring Stiles is to bring the essence of Beacon Hills.

“Yeah, well, it’s kind of rude to leave your boyfriend behind.”

“Boyfriend?!” Danny can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him. Derek glares at him. “Sorry. I just. I didn’t ever think Stilinski would get a boyfriend. Or laid, for that matter.”

“Yeah, well, he’s excellent in bed.” Derek stiffly turns back to the breads, kneading just a little too hard to be human.

“Easy on that,” Danny warns him. “I don’t need to replace these counters.”

“I don’t need you to hassle my boyfriend,” Derek returns, but he does lighten his touch.

“So, Stiles is coming here. Cool. What’s he going to do?”

Derek shrugs. “Beats me. He got his degree in anthropology and zoology. He’s trying to prove that certain supernaturals evolved as a missing link between humans and some older species. It’s really fascinating, but he loves talking about it, so you’ll probably get a rundown on it if you see him.”

“That sounds cool actually,” Danny says. “Now. Have you ever heard of haupia?”

~ * ~

Stiles does indeed arrive within a couple of days and Derek takes an hour to run to the DMV to update his license.

Then, when they get back, Stiles asks Danny if he still needs help.

Danny looks at the sea of people and then back at Derek and Stiles. “Yes,” he says, and Stiles hands him the same documents he’d asked Derek for.

“All right, you’re hired.”

Stiles grins, tying on an apron and jumping on the register. The line moves quickly, and suddenly the bakery is empty, for the first time in what feels like years.

“Cool,” Danny says. And then heads into his office to read the reviews from Ryleigh.

By the time he surfaces, the bakery is closed, Derek and Stiles have cleaned up, and Derek is prepping for tomorrow while Stiles sits on a stool and chats at him.

“Hey, thanks for coming out here,” Danny tells them. “It’s really awesome that you’re here.”

“Yeah, well,” Stiles says, “Beacon Hills kind of imploded on us. Did Derek tell you about the new hunter family that moved in? Right bastards, the lot of them.”

“He’s mad because they saw my eyes and decided that I needed to die.”

“Aren’t you mad about that too?”

Derek shrugs. “Yeah, I mean, that’s where I grew up. But Beacon Hills itself hasn’t been kind to me in a long time. I’ve got friends out here from before I followed my sister back. We’re actually going to meet one of them today.” Derek shares a look with Stiles. “Do you want to come with us?”

“You realize that I’m gay, right?” Danny says. He can’t help giving Derek a knowing look.

Derek snorts. “So is he. Do you want to come with us?”

Danny thinks of his lack of love life and lets it influence his answer. “Yes. I’d like to meet him.”

“Settled then,” Stiles says. “We’re meeting him at that deli on 23rd. His name is Andrew.”

“Are you going to tell me anything else about him?”

“He’s six feet tall, likes to dress well,” Stiles says. “He works as an analyst for a company close by. And he loves your baked goods.”

“So I have already met him?”

“Yeah,” Derek says. “And he thinks you’re cute. He hopes you think he’s cute too.” Then, Derek dusts off his hands, puts away everything, and washes up. “We have about an hour before we’re supposed to meet Andrew.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Danny says, waving them away. They leave, exchanging knowing smirks. Whatever. It’s cool.

It’s a stretch to think he’ll get laid today, but the potential of meeting someone makes Danny a little giddy. He needs a quick shower, a touch up of his cologne, and then maybe he’ll have some time to clean out his inbox.

Oh wow, he has time tonight! Who knew that having employees would make his life so much more manageable.

Anyway. He doesn’t want to be late to meet—or rather, re-meet—Andrew.

~ * ~

Derek and Stiles are standing outside on the sidewalk when Danny comes running up. He’d gotten wrapped up in his emails, unused to having even five minutes to do something like that instead of being too tired to function when he got off work.

“Andrew is already inside,” Derek says, pulling Danny close so he can run a hand over his back, something Danny used to watch him do with his pack before they were forcibly disbanded. Danny shivers under the touch. No lie, if Derek wasn’t with Stiles, Danny would be climbing him like a tree. As it is, he still has to will away a boner.

Derek smiles like he knows what just happened, and Danny shrugs him off.

Then, they walk into the deli. Derek leads the way, heading for a booth tucked near the back, a tall, suited man already sitting there, phone in one hand, the other resting on his head, fingers tangled in his curls. Danny stutters to a stop. He recognizes this man. He was one of the first people to visit the bakery. He’d made some mention of the name, something like, “Reminds of my best friend,” before winking and buying a dozen cookies.

Yeah, he was definitely cute.

“Andrew,” Derek is saying, “this is Danny. Mahealani. I think you’ve met before.”

Andrew looks up, taking in Danny standing there and nods. “Yeah. He’s an awesome baker.”

“And he’s gay,” Stiles remarks, sliding into the booth across from Andrew. Derek waves Danny to the table, and Danny sinks down next to Stiles. Andrew stands up and lets Derek sit so that he’s across from Stiles.

“Danny,” Andrew says, extending a hand, “Andrew Erickson.”

“Pleasure,” Danny says.

“Yes,” Andrew remarks, eyes sparkling. “It is.”

“Shall we order?” Stiles asks. “I’m starving.”

Danny doesn’t know if he’s hungry for food or for affection, but he knows either way, he’ll get what he needs tonight.

~ * ~

The sort of date goes so well that Danny and Andrew walk back to Danny’s apartment together and then spend most of the night talking.

They don’t have sex, but it’s a near thing. Instead, Andrew spends the night on Danny’s couch and they exchange numbers and kisses.

Then, they both drag themselves to their respective jobs the next morning.

Stiles cracks a joke about the walk of shame, and Derek smacks him.

“Go well?” he says, as if he can’t tell. He’s a werewolf. He’d be able to smell if Danny had done anything.

“Yeah, it went really well. I think we could really work out.”

“Good. I’m glad.” Derek hauls Stiles into the kitchen.

Danny is thankful, but Derek and Stiles must have gotten in early because there in nothing for him to do.

Wow. This is going to give him so much time.

“Hey, you realize that you don’t have to do everything, right?” he calls out as he walks into the kitchen. Derek shoots him a blank look accompanied by a thumbs up. “Seriously, you can leave stuff for me to do.”

“Hey, werewolf here,” Stiles says. “He moves at two speeds: fast and faster.”

“Yeah well, you’re making me feel lazy here.”

“When’s the last time you had time to yourself?” Derek asks. When Danny doesn’t answer, Derek points at him. “Exactly.”

Danny looks to Stiles for help, but Stiles just shakes his head.

“Hey, you hired him,” he says. “Which reminds me: do you want me to do anything other than run register?”

Derek shakes his head, so Danny says, “Uh, no? That’s okay, Stiles. You did awesome yesterday. It’s probably going to be that busy again today.”

“That’s good, right?” Stiles asks. “I mean, it means that people like your business.”

“It also means that I can pay you.”

“And go on dates with Andrew,” Derek adds. “By the way, he really enjoyed last night. I think he’s definitely going to ask you out again.”

“Are you going to be okay with me dating your best friend?”

“Yeah. I mean, you and Andrew deserve to be happy. What kind of friend would I be if I got in the way of that? Maybe you’ll break each other’s hearts, but you won’t know unless you follow your path.”

“He’s gotten really Zen lately,” Stiles says. “Sometimes it’s really helpful.”

“Unless your name is Stiles and you don’t like to listen to your boyfriend.”

“I listened, honey. That’s why we’re in New York City.”

“Okay,” Danny interrupts before Derek can respond. “I’m going to go open now. Stiles, you wanna come with?”

“Yeah, sure. See ya, honey-baby-love-of-my-life.” Stiles throws an exaggerated kiss at Derek, who mimes catching it and tucking it into his pocket. It’s cute. Far cuter than Danny would have given either of them credit for seven years ago.

Maybe one day, he and Andrew can be like that.

It’s a goal. But first. Get through today. He needs to do an update for his app, reinforce some firewalls that keep out the bigots. If Derek and Stiles can handle the bakery, then he can get a head start on it. And meet with Ryleigh about financials.

It’s so nice to have employees.

~ * ~

Andrew calls him two days later, on a Sunday, and asks to see him again.

“Been thinking about you a lot.”

“Me too.”

“Can’t wait. Can we meet now?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Cool, let me in.”

“You’re here already?” Danny looks around his apartment, but it’s neat. He’s clean—showered after a run with Derek this afternoon. He even changed the sheets on his bed.

And he remembered to buy condoms when he was at the store earlier.

“Um, sure. Let me just.” Danny throws on a light jacket and jogs down to the street. Andrew grins at him when he pushes the door open for him. They walk back up to Danny’s apartment in silence.

“So, I know this is kind of out of the blue, but do you want to have sex with me?” Danny asks once they’re inside again. Andrew pauses mid-step, shooting a puzzled look at Danny.

“Sex, on the second date?” he asks.

Danny shrugs. “We’re both adults. As long as it’s consensual, why shouldn’t we?”

“Do you think we’re even compatible?” Andrew asks.

“If you’re asking, you’re already thinking about it. Now, I’m vers. How about you?”

“Vers too. I prefer to top with partners on the first time. Is that okay?”

Danny nods. “I was going to play later,” he admits. “So, I’m ready to go. I’ve got lube and condoms in the bedroom. Will you join me?”

Andrew nods, reaching out for Danny’s hand.

He’s reminded sharply of Derek grabbing Stiles’ kiss. “Are we going to be cutesy and couple-y?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” Andrew says. “I mean, some partners like it, some don’t. I know I like pet names, but I’m not much for showing affection in public.”

Danny understands. As a gay black man, it has to be harder for Andrew to show his feelings or who he is without being attacked. “We won’t hold hands in public if it bothers you,” he says, “but I do like to call partners sweetheart and love. But not out in public.”

Danny isn’t under any illusions that Beacon Hills was an anomaly and that homophobia is still the norm in many places. He doesn’t like endangering either his partners or himself unnecessarily.

They sit on the bed, and Andrew studies Danny with kind eyes. “So, we’ll be cutesy and couple-y but only in private. Is it okay to walk with you, to stand near you?”

“To be caught looking at me, you mean?” Andrew nods. “Yeah, as long as it’s okay for me to do the same to you.”

“Definitely. So, this lube?”

Danny laughs, pushing at his chest. “Get undressed and I’ll give you a show.”

It certainly is a show when he gets down to it, and the sex is fun, messy, and only sort of good because they need to learn each other, but he doesn’t hate it, and he actually likes the way Andrew curls around him after they’ve cleaned up, and they sleep.

Danny wakes up in the middle of the night, sees Andrew still in his bed, and smiles before going back to sleep.

~ * ~

Derek obviously smells when their relationship changes, but he doesn’t make a big deal out of it, and he doesn’t let Stiles do it either.

In fact, they go on a lot of double dates, and Stiles tells horror stories of the first time he bottomed for Derek.

“Never again,” Stiles sing-songs. “Derek doesn’t mind, do you, honey-bunches?”

“I mind you discussing our sex life,” Derek retorts, “sugar-sweet-on-top.”

They jibe each other often and throughout the day. The customers love it. They also seem to love it when Andrew manages to come in for lunch and he and Danny usually hide in the office.

The bakery does so well with the extra help that Danny hires an additional four people and extends the hours. He also starts making more traditional Hawaiian goods, which go over just as well as the haupia.

Then, suddenly, he looks up to find that he’s been dating Andrew for a year and he knows that he absolutely wants to marry this man. Andrew has already moved in, and his suits don’t look out of place in Danny’s closet.

Everything fits.

There’s some small fights. And once Andrew spent the night at Stiles and Derek’s apartment while they cooled off and reconciled.

But, still, 365 days. Danny definitely knows he wants to plan a proposal, plan a wedding, and spend the rest of his life with the beautiful creature that sleeps in his bed.

To celebrate their anniversary, Danny enlists Derek and Stiles’ help.

Derek whips up more than baked goods, and Danny is thoroughly impressed by the spread he prepares. Everything is on the table, literally. Way too much food for just two people.

Derek sees him eyeing the table. “You know how you’re thinking about implementing a donation of unused foods to the homeless shelters nearby? Yeah, this is the test run.”

“That’s wonderful,” Danny says. “Thanks, Derek.”

“Hey, I helped,” Stiles says, jabbing himself in the chest. “I made some of the dishes.”

Derek nods. “He did. They’re good too. Traditional Polish dishes, like pierogi, pączki, żurek, and naleśniki.”

“Andrew’s had them before,” Stiles points out. “I’ve never cooked for you, so I don’t know if you like them.”

“I’m sure I will.” Danny gives them both grateful hugs. “Thanks so much for doing this for me.”

“It’s not a problem,” Derek says, grabbing Stiles and tugging him along as he heads for the door. “Let us know how it goes, yeah?”

He nods and then they’re gone.

Danny swallows hard when he’s all alone. He’s suddenly nervous even though he and Andrew have been together for a year now.

An anniversary dinner is nice, but is it what Andrew wants? Should Danny have purchased a ring? Should he be proposing tonight?

Before he can do much more than worry that he’s not doing this correctly, Andrew steps into the room.

He takes in the table and whistles lowly. “They really know how to cook, eh?” he remarks. “They really support us, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” Danny agrees. He hugs Andrew and then pulls out his chair for him. “I haven’t tried Stiles’ cooking, but Derek says it’s good.”

“It is,” Andrew confirms, “although, I can’t pronounce half of what he makes, so he makes fun of me. We can’t all be secret linguistics, like Derek.”

“I’m going to come right out and say this,” Danny says, “I don’t have a ring. I meant to get one, and then I lost track of time.”

“You’ve been really busy,” Andrew agrees. “So I guess it’s a good thing I did get a ring.” He pushes back from the table and drops to his knee, holding a ring box in front of him. “Daniel Mahealani, I love you. I don’t want to spend another day without you, so will you accept this token of my affection and marry me when the time is right?”

Danny slides out of his chair so that he can kneel with Andrew. He picks up the ring and slides it on his finger. “Andrew Erickson, I do accept your ring and give you my promise to marry you when the time is right.”

They stand and sit back at the table.

“Twelve months,” Andrew says. “One whole year. It’s been a great year. And I can’t wait for the rest of the years too.”

“Yeah. That’s.” Danny blows out a breath. “That’s what I want too. I can’t wait for tonight, tomorrow, next week, the rest of our lives.”

“But right now, we have to do something about this spread. Certainly we can’t eat it all.”

“No, the plan apparently was to donate what we don’t eat down at the shelter.”

“Oh,” Andrew says, his smile slow and steady. Danny’s stomach flips a little, anticipating the celebration already even though they have dinner, donating the leftovers, and heading back to the apartment before they can even entertain the notion of sex. “That sounds wonderful.” He studies Danny with a knowing look. “How about we pack something up for later, drop the rest off at the shelter, and head home?”

Danny has to go around the table to kiss him because there’s too much food to lean over the table. But, hey, that’s good. So much food that won’t go to waste.

“I’ll grab some containers. Why don’t you pick out the things you think I should try from Stiles and then we’ll take care of the rest?”

“Divide and conquer,” Andrew says. “That’s why I love you.”

“That and I swallow,” Danny shoots back over his shoulder with a wink.

Andrew lets out a startled laugh. “Just go before you kill me with your quips.”

“I live to please,” Danny returns. “Just you wait.”

It’s hard to wait the two hours it takes to box everything up and deliver it. But somehow, they both survive right until they get into the apartment and the door is locked. Then they crash together, locked at the lips as they put away the food they kept, trying to undress as they move like some awkward, two-bodied creature.

They fall into bed without any injuries, and then proceed to make love at the slowest pace they have ever done so. It’s nice, but Danny is glad that the second round sometime around midnight is faster and more their pace.

Danny falls asleep afterward, sated and beyond happy. He’s got a wedding to plan with his fiancé.

~ * ~

Stiles and Derek get married around Thanksgiving. Danny and Andrew both attend as best men.

It’s the first time in eight years that Danny has seen anyone from back in Beacon Hills, and he is surprised that it isn’t as awkward as he’d thought it would be. For one, Scott doesn’t come. Stiles makes some bullshit excuse, but Danny can see how hurt he is. And another thing, everyone has grown up and matured. Sure they all have a few more scars than he remembers, but for the most part they seem happy.

After, once the vows are exchanged, the grooms kiss, the toasts are done, the food is eaten, the bouquet lovingly handed to Danny by Derek, and the guests gone with the couple departed to their honeymoon, Danny sits with Andrew on their balcony, watching the moon rise over the rooftops.

“That was a beautiful ceremony,” he says. Andrew nods in agreement. “If you don’t mind, none of those people aside from Derek and Stiles will be at our wedding.”

“Obviously,” Andrew says. “Do you want something similar?”

“Small, intimate?” Andrew nods. “Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

“How about New Year’s? All we need are a few suits, witnesses, rings, and some of your haupia.”

Danny laughs. “I knew you were only marrying me for my prowess in cooking Hawaiian desserts.”

“Oh sure, yeah, that’s what attracted me to you in the first place.”

“Yeah? And what attracts you now?”

“Hmm,” Andrew pretends to think about the question, before sobering quickly. “Everything,” he answers honestly. “I love everything about you. I love the way you are so smart, the way you cook, I love how you treat your friends, and how you’re not afraid to let someone know when they’ve hurt you. I love the way your face lights up when you laugh, and most of all, I love the fact that you’ve let me share your life with you.”

“Aw, babe, you’re going to make me cry.” Danny rests his head on Andrew’s shoulder. “I love you too. I love the way you always know what to say in any situation and how you know to give me space when I’m mad. I love the way you always hang up your clothes. I love the way you hog the covers at night. But most of all, I love that I get to share your life with you.”

They share a few sweet kisses.

“Shit, we should have recorded those,” Andrew says suddenly. “They would have made the perfect vows.”

Danny laughs again, sure his face is a bright beacon in the cold November air. “Yeah. We should have. How about we go write them down instead?”

“That works too.” Andrew stands up, offers a hand to pull Danny up. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too. Now move, I’m freezing.”

~ * ~

New Year’s day dawns bright and cold. The perfect day for a quick wedding.

Danny stands in front of the courthouse, Stiles to his right, fluttering about like a nervous moth. Ryleigh would have been here too, but she’s off visiting some of her others cousins, back in Ireland. She sent her love and congratulations in a confetti- and glitter-filled envelope that Danny had the foresight to open in his kitchen on the linoleum instead of his fully-carpeted living room. He’s still finding bits of glitter even after a deep clean.

“Why are you nervous?” Danny asks. “You weren’t this nervous when you and Derek got married.”

Stiles shrugs. “You realize this is the longest I’ve been apart from my husband since we first got together, minus the time he flew out here to get the job at your bakery. I’m just.” Stiles sighs. “Sometimes I think I’m going to turn around and he’ll be gone. Do you ever feel that way about Andrew?”

“No,” Danny shakes his head, “never. I trust him to come back to me, even when he leaves mad. Do you not trust Derek the same way?”

Stiles nods, but it’s clear he doesn’t.

“Why don’t you talk to your husband about it? I’m sure he’ll explain things better than I can.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Danny. You’re a great friend. Andrew is so lucky to be marrying you.”

“And I’m lucky to be marrying him,” Danny says. “Thanks to you and Derek for introducing us.”

“Oh hey, I think I see them.”

Indeed, it is Derek and his fiancé walking toward them. Andrew has the bouquet from Stiles and Derek’s wedding.

“Something old,” he murmurs as he comes astride of Danny.

Danny pokes his tie. “Something blue.”

“All right,” Stiles directs, “let’s get you inside and married before I lose any more feeling in my toes.”

Derek holds the door for them, and Danny swears he hears him hum “The Wedding March” under his breath.

Well, he and Andrew did pick out a playlist for the reception at the bakery after this, and they’ll dance to their song then, but it is nice to have some form of acknowledgment for what this day is.

Well, that is aside from the fact that this building is only open for the purpose of filing marriage certificates today and only for about two hours.

Six other couples have already been here. And now it’s Danny and Andrew’s turn.

“Got the rings?” he asks Stiles as they line up before the justice. Stiles nods, tossing one to Derek while Derek hands Stiles a folded piece of paper.

And then it’s off to the races. Vows exchanged, rings exchanged, kiss exchanged, paper signed, objections null and void, and it’s over.

Danny stands on the steps again, Andrew next to him, matching rings on matching fingers.

Derek and Stiles wave streamers of crepe paper in both his and Andrew’s favorite colors, clapping, and in the case of Stiles, whistling loudly.

As Danny surveys the mostly empty sidewalk in front of him, standing next to the love of his life, two good friends sharing this moment with them, he thinks life can’t get any better than this.

~ The End ~

#Teen Wolf Fanfiction #Danny Mahealani #OMC #OFC #Derek Hale #Stiles Stilinski #My Story/My Writing #Danny-centric

4 notes · View notes