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fanfictiondreamscape · 4 years

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First Kisses (Haikyuu - pt. 2)

Title: First Kisses (Haikyuu - pt. 2)

Genre: fluff (possibly even more than the first though I make no promises)

Pairing: Daichi/Asahi/Nishinoya/Tanaka/Ennoshita x reader (separate)

Notes: Though there wasn/t much demand, I couldn’t help myself. Seriously. The lack of immediate continuity actually made me mad. Otherwise, I felt the need to continue the saga with the second and (rest of the) third years!

Anyway, here goes nothing!

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Masterlist

Daichi Sawamura

ok, lemme get this out first

this man would be an amazing boyfriend

and this would be matched with his s/o

someone very responsible and calm, but they aren’t afraid to turn into a momentary crackhead and pull a few pranks

either way, the first kiss would for sure happen on a date

i can imagine that it would be in a movie theater

but not in the back or the very front

somewhere in the middle of the theater

now, you two had decided to go see a movie for the next date

(consider this one your third or fourth. i can’t imagine that he’d do this on the first or second date, y’know?)

you two had struggled on choosing a movie, but you did eventually decide

imagine whatever movie you like, but

i think the movie would be a really cheesy teen drama

something along the lines of ‘five feet apart’ or midnight sun’. definitely something with some big upstanding issue in their romance

either way, when the movie hits a romantic climax (like the first kiss or something)

he looks at you

the way the artificial light from the screen lights up your features makes him question if you’re a human being and not an angel or sparkling fictional being

the way that your eyes are lighting up with an odd mix of joy and sadness

everything fell perfectly

he wanted to kiss you right then and there, and though he had been wanting to kiss you since the end of your second date

sadly, he was doubting whether or not this was the right moment

what he didn’t know (or notice, rather) was that you knew he was looking at you

and you decided to take the initiative

so you turned his head to face you once you redirected your attention and he turned away blushing

you leaned up and kissed him

slow, sweet, passionate and a little shy

it only turned more delicate when he cupped your cheek in his big calloused hand

the feeling made you lean in a little more

once you two had to break away for air, you two stared into each others eyes

you decided to peck his lips once again

he chuckled a little, but nonetheless, he draped his arm over your shoulders and you laid your head on his shoulder

overall, the kiss?

gorgeous. perfect. ten out of ten.

it was very experienced, too, so there were no worries there.

the gentleness of the experience was something that the both of you envied from other couples

and you two achieved that

ahaHA. you thought that dadchi over here would be the first person to initiate the kiss?

think again! he would be too caught up in if his s/o wanted to kiss him, change my mind-

Asahi Azumane

this big teddy bear

he would most definitely go for someone gentle and kind

he is shy bby, so he might choose someone fairly social

but also aware and not overbearing

he just wants love-

as for the kiss, i find that the kiss would probably happen at school

just the one off chance that he got bothered by the gangster comments

sooo

it was getting to be between hours (class and lunch), and he was hiding in a closed off area of the school

he had texted you that he might be a little late to lunch

and the message scared you

this boy hides what he is feeling, so when he sends a text, that was code for ‘come find me in our spot i’m sad and need comfort.’

but like i’m crying just writing that like-

so with that knowledge, you let your friends know that you’re gonna be a little late to lunch

and once the final seconds of the period hit, you were out the door

you immediately ran to the quiet area

and hugged your gentle giant boyfriend

no words needed to be said, but he did lean into your touch

eventually, you knew that you needed to say something

this boy needs reassurance, and you have just that

you tap his shoulder and tilt your head to the floor

and the two of you sit next to each other

you have your hand over his that’s resting on the ground

and though the silence is comforting, you know words are what need to be used here

so you speak

“you know i love you, right?”

cue his nod

“you know that i don’t think you are anything even remotely close to dangerous, right?”

stillness, but a hesitant nod

“so if i were to tell you that what those people are saying isn’t true, would you believe me?”

he nods

silence looms yet again, and he scoots closer to you

you do the same, and grip his hand to which he responds

after a few minutes of calm quiet, you look up at asahi

he has his eyes locked on the old wall

and you can’t help yourself

you lift your hand and tilt his head so his eyes can meet yours

you start to lean up to kiss him with a comforting smile on his face

and as he visibly relaxes, you kiss him

it’s not too long, not too short

but it was exactly what he needed, and he didn’t know it

the kiss itself was very shy, though

as much as you would’ve liked to say that you were 100% confident in your kiss, you weren’t

but that’s okay with asahi and yourself

you two wouldn’t have traded a kiss so loving and soft for the world

you pull away with a slightly bigger smile, and asahi’s face is red

you’re blushing too, but when he flashes you a small smile, you turn even redder

eventually you two settle and go to lunch

so, overall, the kiss is very comforting and soft

it isn’t very long, but it doesn’t border on a peck, but you know that it didn’t cut your breath off too much

it wasn’t very confident, but due to the softness, it was very clean (again, for lack of a better word)

10/10, softest kiss with the softest boi

Nishinoya Yuu

let’s get one thing straight

this boy is whipped for you and everyone knows it

and it’s all due to your personality

so your appearance probably wouldn’t matter much to him

someone kind, chivalrous and very intelligent is who i think he’d go for

otherwise, the kiss would probably happen, yet again

AT A VOLLEYBALL GAME HOLY SHI-

seriously though, whether it was a practice game or not, doesn’t matter.

anyways

i imagine that karasuno is at training camp

(and we’ll just pretend that things worked out better for them in the games)

either way, they are in the second set

they’re riding a deuce, back and forth

tension is high, the players are starting to lose momentum.

the team managers (including you) overlooking the match are on the edges of their seats.

it isn’t until karasuno snags two back-to-back points that tensions drop and the crows start a small celebration

unlike yaku’s though, this is an immediate reaction from noya

he runs off the court and to the bench where he jumps at you and just

BIG romantic gesture, of course

YOUR FIRST KISS!

the kiss was very messy and excitable

just like your upbeat libero!

but it still held a lot of meaning for the both of you

while daichi is trying not to scream, the rest of the team is either watching in disgust, jealousy, or are ‘awwing’ at the situation

(let’s be honest, though - daichi would silently be cheering you and noya on, he just has to keep up the captain responsibilities,y’know?)

it was fast, full of (accidental) teeth, and a little messy, but it was very loving and passionate

and he didn’t want to let go

whenever you tried to pull away he’d giggle a little and pull you back in

it’d take daichi or coach ukai to pry him off you

and they’d be a little angry

but who can be completely angry when the second-year’s ‘it’ couple just had a romantic breakthrough?

anyway, it’d leave you flustered and just

reader.exe has stopped working

but you enjoyed it and noya couldn’t wipe the smile off his face for the rest of the day

general summary: unintentionally rough, but very passionate and very excited (if you know what I mean - nothing naughty)

more messy than the both of you thought, but it was perfect for the moment

ok, but like seriously-

he’d be an amazing boyfriend, change my mind-

Ryuunosuke Tanaka

let’s kickstart this with his s/o

very feminine, but also very brash

someone that knows what they’re worth but isn’t afraid to be a little (again) ‘feminine’

possibly another athlete

maybe a volleyball player...? *wink wink*

this is gonna sound horrible but

i can’t picture him OR noya having their first kiss unless it’s at a volleyball game

like, it’s not as if they go anywhere else, they just seem like the sports-kiss kinda people

ANYWAY

heres the twist

HE is watching YOU play this time

being the ace of your team, the pressure is on when your team is struggling to keep the points up in the third set

it’s a literal game of back and forth, and you’re about ready to lose your shit

but you need to remain calm or else the team morale will drop

you’ve been pushing, but after the rotation, things have been going worse than before

tanaka is watching all of this go down with the rest of the boys volleyball club

and while everyone (excluding tsukishima) is stressed, tanaka is BY FAR the one stressing the most

like-

his baby and their team are losing rapidly at this point

c’mON gET thE ROtAtiON sO MY BabY CaN GeT THe PoINt!

is what he’s thinking, though he knows that’s not going to work

(i mean, maybe it would. if he thinks that thought hard enough-)

either way, the other team calls a time out, and while they are elaborating on what to do

tanaka shouts from the stands

and that little (pfFT WHO ARE WE KIDDING-) action gave you the hope to continue the game

when the game starts back up, everyone is back on track and scoring point after point.

it’s starting to scare the living crap out of your opponents

but the boys watching the game are rooting even louder

as the game comes to an end, and your team is only one point away from the total win

you spike the ball, and the opposing players freeze

EASILY one of your most powerful spikes

and EASILY the action that leads to tanaka trying to prevent himself from running away right then and there

(though he was failing physically, daichi was holding him back by his jacket lol)

as your team lined up and left, that was when tanaka had the overwhelming urge to tackle you

(he didn’t, which you’ll see later, but you found the thought endearing after he told you)

your team is gone, the Karasuno boys team is getting ready to leave

(daichi is still holding tanaka back)

when some of the boys are gone and your team is starting to load themselves into their vehicles, you spot tanaka

you signal that you are gonna go to your teammate

“go for it! i can wait, y/n.”

when you walk over there, you thank daichi and hug tanaka

the hug triggers tears

(”you did so well i-”)

but like, seriously, imagine the inspiration and pure joy he feels - who wouldn’t be crying?

when you realize this you pull away

THIS moment is when he takes his chance

he cups your face when you two pull apart from the hug and just kisses you

passionate, messy, emotional

that and so much more

it is made up of things that can’t be put into words

when you pull away, you two are both super giggly

and hesitant to leave each other

so you spring the suggestion that he joins your team for the celebratory dinner

(he agrees)

anyway, the kiss is very much him

very brash, but very emotional, and very proud (in a good way)

10 out of 10, would recommend tanaka kisses

Chikara Ennoshita

now, this man does not get enough love

and i want to provide for you ennoshita fans

that being said, his girlfriend is most likely someone close to him

laid-back, intelligent, and carrying an amount of grounded energy

you two would probably even be in the same class

(this boy is smart, okay? i feel like he’d be drawn to his s/o’s intelligence)

that being said, the place where the kiss would happen?

ok, get this - study session

the one where he is tutoring noya and tanaka at tanaka’s house

but after that

think ‘hey, i’m hungry - you wanna get some food?’ ‘oh god, please-’

so...

over ramen after a study session

you two had just helped those two lovable knuckleheads with their studies

it was chaotic, it was draining, and you were barely thriving

though you did enjoy tutoring

and ennoshita found that slightly odd

but endearing

and it made him silently gush

‘holy- s/o is an angel. how did i get a literal angel.’

the two of you were making small talk, and discussing the upcoming exams

questions that revolved around arranging study dates and how you think you’d do

no doubt that the both of you were gonna do well, it just happened to come up

and allow the both of you to hype each other up just a little bit

just very calmly

either way, you two had discovered something that

you were hungry

your stomach growled on the walk to your house, and while you were slightly embarassed, ennoshita was gushing at your reaction

he had immediately decided to make a detour

“you can’t go home hungry, s/o. i’ll get you some ramen.”

you were blushing, but you were aware of the fact that your parents wouldn’t want to see you cooking something at 11 pm

you two ran to coach ukai’s shop and, while he was very wary since it was near closing, he shrugged it off

(you two didn’t know it, but he always found you two perfect for each other. he found your relationship adorable, and he left you two to your own business because of that)

you two grabbed some ramen, ennoshita paid (much to your mild chagrin), and you two waved goodbye and left for your house again

eventually, you two decided to settle on a bench after eating and walking became a chore

it was then that ennoshita was able to truly relax

and observe you

and see your adorable chipmunk cheeks as you were eating

and he just knew

he knew that this was the night that he was waiting for

when you were finished with your ramen and stood up to throw it away, he grabbed your wrist

very light, very feather-like, but it was firm in a metaphorical sense

you could tell he was waiting for something so you stopped

“what’s going on?”

he simply stood up and cupped your cheek

and he kissed you

it was soft, it was gentle

with it being under the starry night sky, too - oh my the both of you were in awe

easily an ironically romantic situation when you stop and consider that it was you dropping an empty cup of ramen on the concrete

you were reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck

and once you did, the cup fell and the two of you pulled away

you both peeked down at the ground before chuckling a little and pecking each other on the lips

to conclude: romantic, romantic, r o m a n t i c

this boy is so gentle, so sweet, and so loving and honestly-

the kiss was too

no other words for it except ‘slightly ridiculous’ and ‘beautiful’

#daichisawamura #daichi #daichi x reader #asahiazumane #asahi azumane #asahi x reader #nishinoyayuu #nishinoya #nishinoya x reader #ryuunosuke tanaka #ryuunosuketanaka #tanaka x reader #chikaraennoshita #ennoshita #ennoshita x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons

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tamakeey · 4 years

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there are children present (pt. 2)

doctor! ushijima wakatoshi x doctor! reader

a/n: yeah, there’s probably gonna need to be a part three because I have a lot of ideas and it’s too much to put all into part two sorry :(( but lmk if you’re interested in part three :))

so it's been a little over a year since y/n has been working at the clinic

still as popular as ever with the children due to her caring and gentle nature

ushijima is still ushijima (the same tall, stoic face doctor that scares the children until they realize he’s nothing but a softie)

their feelings for each other: yeah they’re still growing bigger than atsumu’s ego (or at least cutting it close)

the two doctors: still as oblivious as ever, never noticing the subtle hints they throw at each other (it’s mainly y/n throwing the hints though, ushijima never catches them causing his red headed counterpart to slam his head against the wall

the nurse trio continue to pick on their assigned doctors for not making any big moves

and when their doctor refuse to reveal their feelings, what do they do?

of course they rant to one another about their struggles in bringing to two doctors, who were smart enough to graduate medical school and pass residency but cannot confess for the life of them, together

“I swear waiting for them to confess is like watching paint dry” -semi

“SEMI SEMI USHIJIMA REFUSES TO CONFESS AND I SWEAR IM GOING BALD FROM THE STRESS”-tendou

kawanishi truly believes that he may graduate with his nursing degree, pass his board exams, and get his license and a permanent position at the clinic before they can even mutter the words “I like you” to one another

their feelings are so obvious the receptionists, reon and yamagata has caught on and take every second they see two walk into work together to make comments on how cute of a couple they would be

it flusters y/n but ushijima keeps his stoic face and replies with “we’re just friends” (even though he’s blushing internally)

moral of the story is, their feelings are painfully obvious to everyone except the two doctors

so it’s another typical day in the pediatrics center

y/n typing away at her cubicle while semi and kawanishi complains about her lack of courage

“just confess to him please, it’s getting painful for all of us” kawanishi says bluntly while hitting his head against the cubicle wall, already knowing what the doctor was going to say

“no, he doesn’t like me that way, I don't know why you all keep insisting that he does” y/n replies with a semi mouthing the exact words she says after hearing everyday for the past six months

“do you not hear tendou screaming in distress everyday and screeching about how ushijima is as dumb as a brick” kawanishi asks

“I thought he was inferring to ushijima’s lack of social awareness, which is adorable but also very dangerous in this field” y/n replies

“how are you a doctor but you’re so dumb?” semi asks rhetorically

“do you tune out the half where tendou is complaining ushijima’s love life and how he has the chance for it but isn’t taking it. he even shouts your name in there most of the time, what’s not clicking?” kawanishi rants

“look I'm too nervous to make the first move with ushijima and I cannot read his emotional 100% of the time, so confessing is out of the question. now there’s a patient coming in five minutes and you two have to do your typical nurse routine before I go in so hop to it” y/n spews out

typical nurse routine in case it was unclear: take height and weight, check patients blood pressure and ears, and record their temperature and reason for being in the office and such

semi and kawanishi grumble as they sanitize their hands and walk out of the office area

y/n takes a deep breath and slouches down in her chair as she begins to think of the conversation she just had with her troublesome nurses

after a few minutes of contemplating their words, the two nurses return with the file report of the patient, signaling the female doctor’s need in the examination room

as y/n makes her way to the examination room, she runs into ushijima who came rushing into the pediatrics center

“what has you rushing?” y/n asks an exasperated ushijima

“I was almost late since I was coaching shirabu today but it went a little more overtime than how I originally planned the session. also, we spent a good time waiting for his friend to show up only to find out they had to take a raincheck because the kid has a doctor’s appointment today” ushijima replied

“oh I see, well I need to get to a patient right now but I'll catch up with you after” y/n says

ushijima gives her a nod and a pat on the head before rushing to the office to hopefully clock in on time

as y/n knocks on the door, she opens it to find a little boy with a bowl cut sitting on the examination table fiddling with his fingers

if bowl cut did not give it away, it’s our favorite rock lee look alike and if that didn’t help any it’s goshiki :)

the toddler look up upon hearing the door open up and begins visibly shaking because doctor visits are scary

“hello goshiki, my name is dr. y/l/n and I heard you’re not feeling the greatest today, wanna tell me what’s wrong” y/n asked the boy gently, crouching to his height

goshiki hesitates on answer and sits silently while mumbling too quietly for y/n to hear

“I'm sorry sweetie, I couldn’t hear you? could you speak up, I promise I won't hurt you. I’m here to help you feel healthy and strong again!” y/n explains, trying to get the poor frightened boy to open up

“my friend and I were playing volleyball the other day and when he served the ball, it hit my head really hard and everything went black” goshiki says

“I'm just worried if it he may have a concussion so I took him in” goshiki’s mother continues causing the doctor to nod and examine goshiki’s head

I see, so we are going to have to run a couple cognitive tests but from the looks of it, I think it may just be a bruise” y/n asserts causing the poor boy to shake at the word tests

“don’t worry, we do not need to do any shots or blood test. it’s just little memory things, unless you want an MRI scan to be 100% sure. but from what I see, I don’t believe it is a concussion” y/n continues

goshiki looks at his mom silently begging her not to make him take the scary test to which she replies that an MRI would not be necessary to goshiki’s relief

“well then goshiki, you ready to play some brain games. do your best!” y/n encourages the boy causing him to get fired up

because she had him at games

‘OKAY!” goshiki exclaims bouncing on the examination table

y/n begins to grab cards with little picture on them and handed them to goshiki to begin memorizing

she would test him after giving him 5 minutes to study the cards

little did she know, tendou decided that April fools would come early this year and decided to put a picture of ushijima within the cards

just for shits and giggles you know

tendou’s line of thinking you ask why not fluster y/n while she's caring for a patient, that would be hilarious

after five minutes of goshiki studying the cards, he hands them back to y/n

“okay goshiki, can you name at least five of the cards out of the ten that I gave you?” y/n asks, still unaware of the picture of the giant doctor

“blanket, bed, apple, chair, and penguin” goshiki recites

y/n looks at the first five cards to see goshiki had named them in order

“perfect, do you think you can do all ten?” y/n encourages

goshiki nods excitedly and continues

“bear, flower, water, ball, and ushijima” goshiki says, eyes sparkling at the last word

y/n visibly jumps, her cheeks turning red

“wait a minute, dr. ushijima is not one of the card options” y/n questions

“yes he was, his picture was the tenth card I studied” goshiki says innocently

y/n begins vigorously going through the cards she handed goshiki only to see the little bowl cut boy was correct

the tenth card was in fact a photo of the tall, stoic doctor

goddammit tendou y/n thinks in her head, knowing it was for sure his doing

“I'm impressed that you got all ten but how did you know that was dr. ushijima?” y/n asks curiously

need I remind you, y/n’s face is as red as tendou’s hair

“he's my favorite volleyball player in the whole entire world, I wanna be an ace just like him. I was going to play volleyball with him today but mommy said I have to go to the doctors” goshiki explains, his face visibly deflating when mentioning his missed opportunity

“I see, goshiki do you mind waiting in here for like 5 minutes for me. I need to print your papers to take home but my printer isn’t working in here?” y/n asks politely while goshiki nods

y/n takes her leave and makes her way to the office room where she sees ushijima looking at paperwork, sitting in his cubicle

“ushijima-san, can I borrow you for a few minutes?” y/n pops her head in his cubicle and politely asks him

ushijima nods while throwing his paperwork on his desk

“it’s a small world I swear. my current patient was the child you were supposed to coach today. he apparently is a huge fan of you and was super sad that he missed an opportunity to meet his idol” y/n explains

ushijima catching where y/n was going with his nodded and opened the office door for y/n, signaling her to lead the way to the patient’s room

“you don’t have a patient coming in soon do you?” y/n asks, concerned that she’s putting him off schedule

“I don't have a patient coming in for another hour, so it’s fine” ushijima replies

soon they make it in front of the examination room

of course the three troublemaking nurses are staring at them behind a wall thinking what’s going on for them to be going into a room together

I tried finding a reference picture but scary pictures popped up and now I'm scared but basically it’s like one head on top of another, if you can find it lmk I think I'm searching up the wrong thing

y/n knocks on the door to goshiki’s room and then walks in with ushijima following behind her, but he’s hidden by the curtain

“hi goshiki, there’s someone I would like you to meet” y/n says which ushijima took as a cue to come out from behind the curtain

when I tell you goshiki squealed, he screamed so loud, washijou could hear it from his office which was on the opposite side of the pediatrics center

receptionists yamagata and reon can hear him from their little windows

everyone in the waiting area heard it loud and clear, concerned for the child who they believed were screaming bloody murder

anyways after goshiki had his internal fanboy moment, he climbed off the examination table and ran up to ushijima, hugging his legs

“OMG ITS USHIJIMA, HE’S REALLY HERE. I LUB YOU” goshiki screaming, jumping up and down while holding onto ushijima’s khaki colored slacks

“pleasure to meet you goshiki, I heard you also love playing volleyball” ushijima answered

“YES I LOVE VOLLEYBALL, I HOPE TO BE AN ACE JUST LIKE YOU” goshiki exclaims waving his little arms all over the place

ushijima chuckles and y/n swears she’s never heard anything more melodic in her life

“I’m glad I inspire you to be a better volleyball player. I hope you will be able to make it to shirabu’s next volleyball lesson, I look forward to working with you” ushijima replies

“YES SIR” goshiki said bowing repeatedly

ushijima approaches goshiki’s mother to begin working out a schedule fit for goshiki

all while y/n continues to stare at his face with a fond look

suddenly, she feels a tug on her scrub bottoms and looks down to find goshiki looking up at her with a questioning look on his face

“Dr. y/l/n, do you love ushijima-kun?” goshiki asked innocently while tilting his head to the side

this caused the female doctor to turn a bright shade of red and attempt to deny it to the best of her capabilities

waving hands

repeatedly saying no

what you think of, she probably tried it to convince baby goshiki that she had no feelings for the volleyball-playing doctor

“why are you so red dr. y/ln?” goshiki asks causing ushijima to turn around and look at her worriedly

he begins walking over to y/n and places his hand on her forehead to check for her temperature

“are you alright? are you sick perhaps? maybe you should take the rest of the day off and rest” ushijima speaks to the poor doctor who turns even redder by the minute

“no no I am perfectly fine, it’s just that I’m overheating in my white coat, nothing else” y/n responds waving her hands in fast motion

ushijima chose not to question it but goshiki could tell she was lying

I mean who gets hot in a hospital, when it’s the middle of winter

“c’mon goshiki, we have to go. we don’t want to miss your playdate with shirabu now do we?” goshiki’s mother breaks the tense air

hearing his best friend’s name, he shook out of his thoughts and nodded quickly

“dr. ushijima, is it too much to ask for your autograph?” goshiki asks

ushijima turns to the kid and nods as if saying “I don’t mind”

ushijima takes a piece of paper out of the functioning printer and grabs a pen from the cup placed near the computer

he signs the paper, writing a little note for the baby mushroom boy

he hands it to goshiki and as he reads it, he squeals

to my number 1 fan, thank you for your support :)

goshiki grabs his mother’s hand leaving the examination room, waving to the two doctors

not missing ushijima staring at y/n’s smile as she waves happily back to goshiki

“are you sure you’re feeling well y/l/n?” ushijima asks

“I am perfectly fine, thank you for checking up on me” y/n responds

they stare fondly at each other and begin leaning towards one another before a certain red head barges in to tell ushijima that his patient is here

“USHI YOUR 2:30 IS HERE, OH SHOOT! TAKE YOUR TIME :)” tendou screams causing the two to break apart

just a side but semi and kawanishi definitely watched the whole thing, banging their head against the wall while cursing at the stupid red head

before anyone comes for me I love tendou but they’re mad he cockblocked

“I should go see my patient” ushijima says curtly, bowing at the female doctor and making his way to the examination room his patient is currently waiting in

y/n is fanning herself while thinking about the moment she had with the handsome doctor while her two nurses are cursing out the red head

“YOU COULD’VE WAITED LIKE FIVE MINUTES, WE WERE SO CLOSE TO ENDING OUR MISERY” -kawanishi

“TENDOU YOU IDIOT I HATE YOU” -semi

I don't usually do POV changes but THIS IS NO LONGER TAKING PLACE AT THE DOCTOR’S OFFICE BUT IT’S GOSHIKI AND SHIRABU’S PLAYDATE

goshiki makes his way into shirabu’s house

he bows at shirabu’s mother before making his way to his best friend’s room

“SHIRABU, I MET USHIJIMA TODAY!!” goshiki screams

“asahi (god), can you please keep it down” shirabu responds

goshiki then explains what went down in the doctor’s office while shirabu listens intently, ears perking up at the mentions of goshiki’s female physician

“wait, what did your doctor look like” shirabu asks poking goshiki’s tummy with one of his taped fingers

goshiki goes on to explain her appearance and shirabu can suddenly picture her due to...

“oh my asahi, ushijima has her picture as his phone wallpaper and he’s always staring at it during our volleyball lessons” shirabu says to goshiki

“that’s funny because when he walked into the examination room, dr. y/l/n kept staring at him and always turned red whenever he was mentioned. do you think they’re like best friends?” goshiki asks

“no you idiot, they like each other” shirabu says, hitting his forehead at his best friend’s stupidity

“but dr. y/l/n said she doesn’t like him like that” goshiki responds

“but why would she tell her secrets, especially to some kid she just met goshiki” shirabu says, internally questioning his friendship with his fellow bowl cut mate

after arguing about it back and forth, shirabu ended their verbal dispute by throwing a volleyball nearby and effectively hitting goshiki in the forehead

pls stop the goshiki abuse, just praise the poor boy :((

“okay, forget about this arguing. but goshiki I think you know what we have to do” shirabu said smiling deviously, gears turning in his small mind

thus the children begin plotting operation: you should have come to volleyball lessons

a/n 2: hello!! ik it’s been awhile but I’m currently having to deal with getting ready for college so there’s a lot of meetings, stress, and getting all my paper work in. the updates will be kind of slow because I want to make sure all the updates are decent in length but also has a good story line and written well (it’s probably still pretty bad but I'm trying my best) but thank you for your continuous support and I hope you're enjoying the series so far :)) <33

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima imagine #hq x reader #hq imagines #hq scenarios

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clovd-9 · 4 years

Text

fateful findings | ateez

You are the most recent Victor from the 74th Hunger Games and have been reaped for the Quarter Quell. Before your victory many overlooked your abilities—deeming you a lost cause due to your humble beginnings within District 8. With help from your mentor, Jeong Yunho, you proved your worth effortlessly. While your outstanding agility and sharp eye for observation was more than enough to show your true potential, your charismatic persona truly won the hearts of the Capitol. This presented you with numerous sponsors, and during the Game, you continued to win them over. As your death toll rose to the double digits, there was no denying your power. Despite your seemingly cold-blooded act, hints of your benevolence seeped through as you spared and saved the lives of those who were truly vulnerable. This led to you being the hot spot of gossip for fellow Victors and the media alike. However, your charming persona quickly dissolved after your win as you voiced your contempt for the Games. You quickly changed from being the nations’ treasure to the face of an uprising rebellion.

Now, with the Quarter Quell in motion and your sponsors on the line, you must decide how to play and who to play with. Your decision will determine your fate—so choose wisely.

Choi San

From District 1—the District of luxury

Specializes in the use(s) of: throwing knives and stealth

Won when: 12

Current age: 21

San is the youngest person to have ever won The Hunger Games

He is the nation’s bad boy and other competitors worst fear

Due to his early age of winning the games he has had enough time to train and be the most vicious mentor and victor known to date

Given that he lives in the most luxurious district, most would call his behaviors that of a spoiled brat

So when the Quarter Quell was announced and he realized he might lose his life of comfort—the media took notice

While he is known as the Midnight Assassin, many of his fans fear they will lose their beloved District 1 victor

Will you choose to partner up with the nation’s deadliest bad boy—or will you choose someone else to keep you company during the games?

Kim Hongjoong

From District 2—the District of weaponry

Specializes in the use(s) of: daggers and speech

Won when: 15

Current age: 21

Hongjoong is said to be the Prince Charming of the Capitol

Everyone either loves him or wants to be him

Many sponsors placed high bets on him when he went into the Games after seeing what District he came from

And due to his total of 13 kills during his time in the arena he has earned lots of support from the media

As well as being marked as a potential serial killer by fellow victors

Not only that, but he regularly has appearances on talk shows and is painted out to be a total player

The Capitol eats this up, of course

But when the announcement of the Quarter Quell hit headlines,’many feared to lose their beloved red-haired prince

However, he reassured them that he’d make it home by any means possible with a grin and a sinister twinkle in his eyes

So, will you choose to partner up with this killing machine—or will you decide upon another victor to watch your back?

Park Seonghwa

From District 4—the District of fishing and aquatic agriculture

Specializes in the use(s) of: spears, survival skills, and knowledge of numerous environments

Won when: 17

Current age: 22

Seonghwa is the last of the careers, but certainly not the least

Even before his game, many were blown away by his stunning looks and stoic personality

Due to his District being on the coast, his sun kissed skin become something to die for (no pun intended)

This along with his outstanding skills and unexpected deadly nature quickly made him one of the nation’s favorite heartthrobs

His demeanor is rather quiet, yet he is seen as very wise by his fellow victors

He has never yearned for the limelight and is far more humble than his skills allow him to be

However, when the other career from his district was hurt during his game, he dropped everything to nurse her back to health

Many people see this soft spot as a weakness while many people living in the districts see this as a symbol of humanity within the games

The day of the Quarter Quell his face was stoic as usual but those who paid close enough attention could see the clenching of his jaw and fists in what was most likely anger

He has never openly supported the Capitol and declined all requests to be in talk shows or featured in any media streams besides his mentor position

That being said, will you choose this modest candidate to be your teammate—or will you follow in the lead of another victor?

Kang Yeosang

From District 6—the District of transportation

Specializes in the use(s) of: camouflage and stealth

Won when: 18

Current age: 21

Yeosang is one of the lesser known victors given his District and how fresh his win still is within the Capitol

This being said, not much is known about him

However, much is known about his beautiful works of art

He is said to spend his time locked away in his home painting for his collection within the Capitol gallery

And although he’s a massive homebody, that’s not to say he doesn’t have any fans because of his looks

His distinct and charming visuals have placed him numerous modeling gigs from many brand name designers

His performance in the games is rarely a topic, as he won by rather peculiar means

Those being that he stayed hidden for more than half of his game and only had a kill streak of one

When news of the Quarter Quell broke out, very few people had hopes of seeing their beloved artist again

Will you look past the low expectations for this artistic shut-in—or will you take your chances with someone more trusted within the eyes of the public?

Jung Wooyoung

From District 7—the District of lumber and forests

Specializes in the use(s) of: axes, stealth, and agility

Won when: 16

Current age: 20

Wooyoung was an instant fan favorite among the Capitol

“Everybody’s favorite pretty boy” as Ceaser Flickerman would like to call him

With his young age, the cockiness is expected, and the other victors absolutely despise it

His kill streak was only 4 people during the game, but do to his speed and creativity, all bets were almost immediately placed on him

He won his game with axes covered in blood and a devilish grin on his face

What he does out of the media’s eye is a total mystery, though most speculate he tries to woo the ladies of his District and the Capitol

He has also taken up a rather peculiar hobby of modifying himself—whether it be his hair, teeth, eyes, or skin

But when the Quarter Quell was announced, the pretty boy act dropped and was replaced with an unexpected rage

Never had Wooyoung gone against the Capitol, but now, some are unsure of his reliability

Will you team up with this quirky double edged sword—or will you rely on another victor to have your back?

Jeong Yunho

From District 8—the District of textiles and fabrics

Specializes in the use(s) of: intelligence, physical strength, and swords

Won when: 15

Current age: 21

Yunho is one of the most beloved faces in all of the Capitol

The nation’s boyfriend material if you will

He’s a charmer that won the hearts of many sponsors during his game

Hilariously enough, during his game, many of his opponents wrote him off as another pretty boy to be dealt with

However, that proved to be a difficult task as his intelligence levels were above almost every other candidate

He won the games by setting up traps or having unsolvable courses of action

It is said that this raised level of intelligence came from working at his District’s textile factories every day and solving any problems with the machines

His back story is a tragic one—mother and father died due to a fire at one of the factories

And his only sister was reaped into the game with him

Yunho rarely speaks of this, though, and keeps a warm smile on his face

But the day the Quarter Quell was announced, the slight tremors in his hand became unbearably noticeable even though he had a smile on his face

He merely waved at the cameras to wave off any uneasiness from his fans and took his place on the platform

However, some say his smile is a facade, and is slowly breaking with each day gone by

Will you entrust your life with your mentor once again—or will you find yourself alongside another?

Choi Jongho

From District 10—the District of animals and livestock

Specializes in the use(s) of: sickles, stamina, and physical strength

Won when: 17

Current age: 19

Not much is known about Jongho—his District is very small and his win is still fresh in the eyes of the media

Most victors look at him as a child still given his young age

His duration spent in the game was anything but childlike, though

Due to his background as a butcher, his technique of killing was precise and clean

He only killed when he needed to, which seemed weak to some, but smart to others

He didn’t have very many sponsors because he was a mere minnow in a pond of much bigger fish

This did not stop the media from putting him into the limelight, though

After his win, the media, however, has come to fetishize him being the youngest victor

When asked about his views of the Capitol and the Games, he tends to find a way to incorporate its downfall without directly saying he hates the Games

This is written off as teenage rebellion

However, when his silence suddenly shattered during the promotions of the Quarter Quell, many came to see it was not just hormones that led him to have such disdain towards the games

Will you team up with the Capitol rebel—or will you choose another victor to take his place?

Song Mingi

From District 12—the District of coal

Specializes in the use(s) of: herbal medicines, first aid, and survival skills

Won when: 13

Current age: 21

Mingi is that of a gentle giant to the Capitol

He was never as brutal or cold as many other Victors in the games

This image of humanity led to inspire many within the Districts

He did what he had to to defend himself, and even then, he did it by the least harmful means possible

His extensive knowledge of foraging led him to survive the games, as he only ever killed people by poisoning them

He also kept himself alive with the native plants in the arena

The media played him up to be vicious due to his rather intimidating looks, but his shy demeanor quickly struck that idea down

He spends most of his time tending to his family and many people of his District

So when the Quarter Quell was announced, his entire District began to rebel

This has caused a rather dark mark upon his image, leaving him with very few supporters

Will you take this gentle giant as your teammate—or do you have your eyes set on another?

Voting is pivotal to this series. Comment or reblog with the member you decide to create a alliance with. the most voted for member will have their story written first.

Best of luck and may the odds be ever in your favor

#ateez #ateez au #hunger games au #ateez fic #ateez angst #seonghwa #hongjoong #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho

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silkywritesgarbage · 4 years

Note

hello! may i please request a scenario (or hc’s) with fem! reader with the gom + kuroko + kagami, where after a game they find their s/o being flirted with and are obviously uncomfortable? i love the idea of possessive or jealous gom lol thank u!!

Possessive!Main cast is my ISH so thank you for requesting this haha.

WARNING! Profanity, suggestive language, and light violence ahead. Also, creepy creeps creeping up on a pretty gal.

She was waiting for him near the locker rooms, in the spot she promised. As she was texting him that she was waiting, she noticed a shadow step into her line of sight. As she looked up at the newcomer, she was disappointed to see it was a stranger. Looking closer, she recognized his school uniform as belonging to the team her boyfriend just annihilated on the court.

“Can I help you?”

“Hey now, that’s kind of cold. I just wanted to talk. What’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone out here?” Oh. It’s one of those guys. She simply smiled.

“I’m waiting for my boyfriend.” His smile faded a little, but to her shock, he decided to keep going. Fortunately for her, the door to his team’s locker room swung open.

Akashi

“Well, can’t we just be friends? Give me your LINE, we can chat, can’t we? Your boyfriend can’t tell you who you can talk to, right?”

“But I’m telling you that I don’t want to talk to you.” Akashi, who had been walking out of the locker rooms, heard it all. The gentle smile he always wore faded from the redhead’s face as he practically snapped his head in the direction of her voice. His lovely girlfriend had a scowl on her face. The young man had his hand on her phone, obviously trying to exchange numbers. Without another second to waste, Akashi swooped in, grabbing the man’s wrist with a vice grip.

“Excuse me, you’d best not be putting your hands on a young woman’s belongings without her explicit permission.” Akashi ground out. Simultaneously, his other hand fell open (Name)’s, threading his fingers through hers’. “You’d do best to make this your second and last loss tonight. Because the next might be your last.”

The man jumped and scurried away, leaving (Name) with an incensed Akashi. He pulled her close to him, pressing his hand to her head and cradling her against his chest, the other arm circled tightly around her waist.

“Sei-kun, I’m fine.”

“You didn’t look fine. I’m sorry I was late.” A rare grumble escaped his lips. “A shameless man like that shouldn’t ever even consider placing his hands on you.” You laughed, pulling on his cheek playfully.

“Well, he’s gone now, thanks to you and your way with words. Now, let’s forget about it and go get something to eat for my winner, yes?” Akashi’s tensed expression melted away, and he brought her hand up to kiss her wrist.

“Very well, as collateral, I’ll be occupying the rest of your night.”

Murasakibara

He took a lock her hair in his hand. “Wow,” he commented in adoration. “Your hair is so smooth, and it smells good too.” She was so tense that her shoulders ached. She wanted to scream and hit him and act like a child so that he would leave her alone. As she opened her mouth, she heart a shout and the man’s shadow was gone.

“Ew, what’s this loser doing in front of my prize?”

“A-Atsushi!?” Did he just call me his prize? She wondered to herself, but she didn’t have long to ruminate, because the looming purple giant quite literally threw the man away from her. he landed on his but a few feet away. (Name) could do nothing but stare in awe at the absurdity. She knew her boyfriend was strong, but- “Uwahh!”

Murasakibara swept his hands under her legs and scooped her up into a princess carry with ease. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. She felt the heat of embarrassment travel up her nape, through her ears, and up to her cheeks as she felt the astonished stares of everyone around them.

“You’re so light, (Name)-chin. I missed you.”

“N-never mind that! What about this situation!” Murasakibara stared at her blankly for a moment, before he turned to the still stunned young man on the floor.

“By the way, (Name)-chin doesn’t just smell good, she tastes good too.” Both (Name) and the man promptly passed out, cheeks redder than a candy apple. She should have just thrown a tantrum, after all!

Aomine

y’all ever watch Fruits Basket uwu

“Please leave me alone.” (Name) deadpanned, deciding to return her attention to her phone. “You’ll regret it.”

“Come on, now, I’m not trying to do anything weird.” She saw his shadow shift a little closer, so close that the could feel his body in her circle despite her efforts to shift away.She was ready to make a scene, when she felt the vibration on her back of someone slamming something hard into the space above her head.

“Hey dirtbag. Quit trying to touch things that ain’t yours.” (Name) recognized the voice, though not the tone that it carried. She looked up to see Aomine, his expression sharp and dark. His brow was furrowed and his teeth were clenched so hard it sounded like he was speaking through them. He was leaning in so close that she could smell his cologne, which made her heart beat a little faster.The stranger instinctively raised his hands in defense.

“I-I was just kidding...”

“You sure? I don’t mind, I’m a confident guy.” Aomine cracked his knuckles before wrapping a gentle but firm arm around her waist, pulling her close to his chest.

“I could even beat you one handed. If not, quit wasting my fuckin’ time with my hot girlfriend and beat it before you lose a couple teeth along with the game tonight.” As the poor thing sprinted away, squealing in fear, (Name) reached up and pulled on his cheek.

“Since when was my Daiki this cool? Bring back my lame, smelly boyfriend.”

“I am always cool!”

Midorima

The man picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. She cringed and turned her head away, feeling sick. That’s when an orange-clad arm shot out, separating him from you. (Name) recognized Midorima’s back. She couldn’t see his face, but whatever look he gave turned the male’s face pale as he turned tail and ran. Without waiting for him to even disappear around the corner, Midorima had already grabbed her slender wrist with a grip much stronger than he intended.

“H-Hey, Shinar- Ow! Are you mad??” She asked as she staggered behind him with confusion written all over her face. “What did I do?” He didn’t answer as he led her out of the stadium ahead of his team. “Takao-kun will be mad if you-”

“Don’t let another man’s name leave your lips after something like that!” She bristled and glared at his back.

“What? How was that my fau-” He cut her off suddenly, as if his lips had snapped open without his will. He turned around when they were alone and grabbed her shoulders, emerald green meeting (E/C). “Have a little more consciousness when I’m not with you!” She stared at him in bewilderment before the lightbulb suddenly went off above her head. She threw her arms around his waist. He caught her on instinct, his taped hands wrapping themselves around her waist and locking into place in a tight embrace.

“I’m okay. He was just annoying. You don’t have to be so scared for my sake.” She glanced up at him, smiling in that way that he hated, since he was no match for it. He used his hand to press her face into his shoulder. He didn’t want her to see him when he was like this.

“You fool, how could I not worry when every man sees you the same way I do?”

Kise

“(Name)-cchi, your hair is so pretty today. Did you use the hair treatment I brought you? Oh, you smell like the perfume I got you, as well. I knew it would suit you. I know you better than anyone else, after all.” She was just as embarrassed as the young man who had approached her was. She could feel her face turning various shades of red. He had immediately jumped in before the man could even get another word in.

Damn it, all the times I want him to be cooler, and he chooses now-! She didn’t complain when Kise latched himself onto her, resting his chin atop her head. She tried not to get comfortable in his familiar embrace. She was in public, after all! However, she jumped when she felt the hands at her waist travel down a little further.

“R-Ryouta-!” She squeaked. He was always touchy in public, but never this touchy. Kise kept her trapped in his arms, shifting his chin to rest in the crook of her neck as she glanced up at the intruder with a cold look in his eyes.

“Sorry, (Name)-cchi, I just thought I would put someone who doesn’t have any business in approaching you in their place.”

Kagami

hc Kagami is a feminist

Kagami had been the first out of the locker room, because he wanted to grab his lovely girlfriend her favorite drink from the vending machine. Anything to make her smile. He was in a great mood since they won the game, and he had a date scheduled with (Name). Today was going to be great...

...So why am I here!? Kagami lamented from behind the pole he was hiding behind. Granted, he wasn’t hiding well, as pointed out by children passing by with their parents and other players. This guy wasn’t doing anything, but he really didn’t like it. But Coach had said that girls don’t like guys who jump to weird conclusions and point fingers. It made them look weak and insecure, so he tried to be the bigger man. (Name) was always so elegant and mature, after all. She didn’t look like she was in trouble. He believed in her ability to stand without him! Then, he could swoop in and be the cool and suave boyfriend in front of her! Just think rationally...

“You’re so pretty, I bet you’d look really good with earrings, can I buy you a pair? You have piercings? Let me see...”

“H-Hey, don’t touch me!”

....

THINKING RATIONALLY CAN COME LATER.

“Oi! Get your fucking hands off her, dick!”

Kuroko

“(Name). ” Kuroko stood in between her and the stranger. Both of them nearly leaped out of their skin. Even his girlfriend wasn’t used to him appearing out of nowhere. “Are you alright?” Kuroko was impassive as ever, but his gaze remained intently on the man in front of him. It was enough to make the man take a step back.

“W-where did you come from?”

“The locker room.”

“That’s not what I meant!” (Name) recovered first, wrapping her arm around around Kuroko’s and smiling in relief. Kuroko felt his chest tighten with worry. He slipped his hand into hers and walked beside her away from the offending stranger.

“I’m sorry,” he said as soon as they were out of ear shot. “I should have been quicker so he wouldn’t have been able to speak with you.”

“It’s not like you to worry about something as trivial as that, Tetsuya-kun.” She laughed, but Kuroko didn’t find it as amusing. He stopped, turned around and brought her hand to his cheek, leaning into it with a cute, pouty expression.

“I’m normally not, but I might be becoming a little crazy about you, so please let me be a little childish when it comes to you.” Her cheeks warmed as she resisted the urge to cuddle up to him right here. So cute!

#akashi seijuro #murasakibara atsushi #aomine daiki #kise ryouta #midorima shintarou #kuroko tetsuya #kagami taiga #scenario #jabberwock #kuroko no basket #knb #knb scenarios #possessiveness #jealousy #mob character haha

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doing-all-write · 5 years

Text

i’m open

The one in which reader goes to Ben’s soccer game. Fluff and romance ABOUNDS.

Warning: mentions of sex and swearing. And major fluff. Like, so much fluff this thing is made of cotton candy and unicorn wishes.

It’s been so beautiful here and I was watching soccer on tv and really wishing for a soccer playing boyfriend and this is what happened. Hope you enjoy!

Comments, reblogs and likes are always appreciated!

"I'M OPEN!"

Ben's eyes briefly flicked away from the ball as he heard his teammate, Tim, yell. He brought his foot back and kicked the ball as hard as he could toward him.

Tim kept running, keeping the ball caged within his feet the whole time. Keeping an eye on him, Ben, the rest of the players on the field and the whole audience, watched, with bated breath as Tim kicked it toward the goal.

The goalie's thighs tensed and uncoiled as they pushed themselves toward the right, hands splayed trying to prevent the ball from getting into the net.

Time seemed to slow down as the ball sailed over the goalies hands, he could feel the ball brush past his fingertips as it slipped over them and landed against the netting of the goal as he collapsed on the ground, head hung, as cheers erupted.

"YEAH!" Ben threw his arms into the air as he raced over to join the giant dog pile that was getting dangerously close to crushing Tim beneath their excitement.

The bleachers shook under her feet as she jumped up and down, clapping and yelling. She laughed as she watched Ben fling his body on top of the dog pile. She tilted her head up and was greeted by October sunshine that seemed especially brilliant against the cloudless blue sky and the celebration happening around her.

The sun had done nothing to warm her though, the wind buffeting around her and the other spectators doing everything it could to whisk away any bit of warmth the sun might offer. But after moving around she felt herself warming up and judging by the players on the field un-sticking jerseys from bodies, they had worked up a sweat despite the cooler temperature.

She blew on her fingertips, exposed to the chill in the air because of her finger-less gloves, which she knew Ben would give her endless shit for when he saw them. ("Wouldn't it make more sense to buy gloves that actually covered your whole hand, love?" "It's not about staying warm, it's about the aesthetic" "Well quit trying to warm up your aesthetically pleasing fingers on my sides")

Biting back a smile, she accepted praise from the other significant others and family members that lined the side of the pitch every weekend to watch the team play. As she hugged Tim's boyfriend, she saw out of the corner of her eye Ben's team finally disentangling themselves from each other to shake hands with the defeated team.

She loved the community the sidelines had built. When she first showed up, she was worried it would be difficult to get to know the others, but everyone was incredibly welcoming and the atmosphere was always cheerful, even when the team was losing. A couple times, she had brought pom-poms to pass out to willing individuals and they shook them and came up with silly cheers to keep spirits high.

Her eyes tracked Ben as he made his way down the line of players. Even from a distance, she could tell that Ben was feeling immensely proud of himself. He was doing his best to be gracious but from the swagger of his step she could tell he was in the same mood as when they emerged from a bar bathroom after hooking up; cocky and failing to hide it.

As Tim's boyfriend (Kyle she remembered a second too late was his name) talked ad nauseum about how Tim had turned leg day into leg week just in case this exact situation were to happen, she just nodded and made noises of agreement in all the right places but was mainly focused on looking at Ben.

As Kyle gave her one final hug and bounded down the bleachers to go congratulate his boyfriend, she saw Ben, talking to another player who was wildly gesticulating as they recounted a particularly epic shot they had. She saw his blue eyes darting around every now and again. He was nodding and to any other individual it would seem he was listening intently. But she knew better. She knew he was looking for her.

She raised her hand and waved to grab his attention. His eyes locked onto the movement and a smile broke across his face, like the sun appearing from behind clouds.

Without any explanation to the teammate he was talking to, he slapped them on the shoulder and jogged over to where she was, leaving them dumbfounded that someone could leave in the middle of such a great story.

Her smile grew bigger as she carefully stepped down from her spot on the bleachers to meet him. She landed on the last metallic step before the ground and looked up to find herself eye level with Ben's gaze.

"Hello, beautiful." He smiled even wider as her pink cheeks grew even pinker at the compliment.

"Hi, yourself." She muttered back as she found herself smiling wider at the flushed boy before her.

"So? What did you think?" He asked as he held out his hands, palms up to her. She glanced down and laid her own hands on top of his as she giggled,

"It was the best soccer game I've ever been to."

Ben rolled his eyes, "It's football. Honestly. You'd think you'd have learned that by now."

Her mouth dropped open in mock outrage, "Hey! I am trying my best here! You're lucky I even showed up at all!"

Ben chuckled as he cupped her cheek with his palm, "You're right. I'm a lucky bastard to have my beautiful girlfriend come support me on the football pitch." He placed extra emphasis on the last two words, his eyes dancing with mirth as she bit a laugh back.

"I'll forgive you this once for being a dick-sorry a prick- because you told me I'm beautiful."

"Oh so you can't remember the correct term for football but the correct term for dick you've got that one down cold, huh?" He reached a hand down to tickle her side as she laughed and tried to squirm away from him.

"I have way more reason to use prick than I do football! Stop tickling me!" She whined as she tried to get away from Ben's fingers.

Ben just chuckled and grabbed onto her waist firmly, "That's no way to speak to someone who just scored a game winning goal."

She widened her eyes innocently, "Well, technically you didn't score the game winning goal, Tim did."

Ben arched an eyebrow at her, "I'm going to start tickling you again if you don't take that back right this second."

She pouted, "Why are you so mean?"

Ben reached a finger up and tapped her bottom lip, "You know when you do that I just want to kiss you more, is that why you do it?"

Her face flushed crimson as she pulled her chin down and gazed at her feet, encased in the combat boots she had been wearing for the past three winters. Ben always made fun of her when she wore them because he could hear her coming from a mile away. They were heavy and made a satisfying stomping noise with each step. She had primly replied that she wore them so people would know not to mess with her because she was so tough.

(At which point Ben had looked her up and down and pointed out that a woman wearing a shirt with Smokey the Bear on it probably wouldn't intimidate anyone but forest fires. She had walked away with her middle finger held high.)

"Maybe" she muttered as she peeked up at Ben through her eyelashes. His eyes sparkled as he gently tipped her chin up and laid a gentle kiss on her lips.

As he pulled away, they were both beaming at each other, enjoying the late autumn sun and each other's presence when a piercing voice cut through the moment,

"OI! Get a room you two lovesick idiots!" Tim cracked as he gave Ben's shoulder a shove as he jogged past, holding Kyle's hand.

She clapped her hands over her face as her shoulders shook with laughter and Ben cheerfully flipped Tim off and yelled, "Fuck you too, you insufferable bugger!"

Tim laughed and waved at both of them as he and Kyle jogged to their car.

She peeked at Ben through her fingers, "Why are your friends so embarrassing?"

Ben laughed and threaded his arms around her waist, "Not sure, love. But at least they always keep us on our toes, right?" He kissed the tip of her nose as she put her hands on his chest,

"Ugh, keep your distance Jonesy. You're a sweaty boy." She wrinkled her nose at him as he smirked at her.

"You really shouldn't have said anything" he said as he pulled her flush against his body as she shrieked with laughter, "BEN! Put me DOWN!"

He laughed as he lifted her up and spun her around as she flung her head back and laughed. He gently set her back down on the ground as he squeezed his arms tighter around her waist, "Alright, I put you down. But I'm still going to get as much sweat as possible on you."

She squirmed against him as she tried her best to disentangle herself from his embrace, "This sucks Ben, how dare you be so strong and muscular?" She wheezed as she pushed against the brick wall that was his chest.

She finally huffed out a breath and went limp as Ben did everything possible to rub as much of his sweat off on her, "Usually your muscles are a huge turn on but right now I kind of hate them?"

Ben stilled and stared down at her incredulously, "You can't possibly mean that?"

She rolled her eyes, "Of course not. I just wanted to distract you." She pushed away from Ben and took a few steps away from him, shaking herself off in a futile attempt to try to rid herself of the smell of sweaty man.

"How can you be so hot but smell so terrible?"

Ben pointed a menacing finger at her, "Think very carefully before insulting me again. I'll rub your face in my armpit."

She gasped, "You wouldn't."

Ben shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn't but do you really want to take that chance?"

She crossed her arms and mumbled, "I guess not." She looked up into Ben's eyes and couldn't help the smile taking over her face. She looked around and noticed the whole team had cleared out. It was only her, Ben and a few families taking their kids to the playground for one final play session outside before snow and ice covered everything.

Ben studied her. Her silhouette illuminated by the autumn sun shining down, the leaves falling around her, he was struck with the same realization he had whenever he got a chance to look at her; he was incredibly in love with her.

Her eyes slid over to meet Ben's and saw him studying her, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze was intense and caused heat to build in her core as she glanced down and saw the soccer ball next to her boot. She rested her foot on it and glanced at Ben, "Teach me how to play?"

He shook himself from his thoughts, "What? Teach you how to play football?"

She nodded as she looked at him shyly. His face lit up, "Alrigh', yeah. Of course, love." He walked closer to her as she brushed a piece of hair out of her face,

"Well, I figure who better to learn soccer from than the professional who just scored." She teased and he stopped in front of her, holding up one finger,

"FIRST LESSON. It's called football. NOT soccer."

She giggled as she held up three fingers, "Yes, sir."

Ben's eyes flashed as he bent down to whisper in her ear, "Save that for later." He pulled back to see her eyes wide with shock as he winked at her and kicked the ball out from underneath her boot.

He considered himself to be a good boyfriend for only laughing a little bit when she stumbled and had to catch herself before falling into the grass.

She narrowed her eyes at him, "You prick."

"SECOND RULE. Never trust your opponent. Especially when they're as talented as I am." He called over his shoulder as he easily dribbled the ball down the pitch toward the goal as she gawked at him in disbelief.

"HEY!" She yelled in indignation as she took off after him, cursing her clunky boots and shedding the scarf that kept blowing into her face.

Ben laughed as he quickly kicked the ball into the net and turned to face her, cheering all the while as she ran straight into him. Her hair getting tangled and flying into Ben's face, her beanie having flown off in her mad dash to get him, as he made an "OOF" sound and stumbled back a few steps.

"Not fair!" She wailed as she tried to get around Ben and get the ball out of the net as Ben chuckled and grabbed her hand,

"All's fair in love and football, love." And spun her around so he could plant a loud kiss on her forehead as she yanked her arm away from him.

She scurried around him, grabbed the ball with her hands and, carrying it like a football player carrying a ball to the end zone, sprinted towards the goal on the other side of the field.

It took Ben's brain a good three seconds to comprehend what she had done and then for mock outrage to kick in as he heard her giggles getting quieter as she got farther away from him.

His months of practice and training kicked in and he took off like a shot after her.

She was so far ahead, and rather pleased with herself for what she had accomplished. She had tricked Ben, gotten a kiss and now she would score against him as well.

That was when she realized Ben had been unusually quiet.

She risked a glance behind her and saw all five feet ten inches of pure muscle. competitive, high on adrenaline, boyfriend coming straight at her like a freight train.

If Ben hadn't been so focused on getting the ball from her he would have been on the ground, dying with laughter over how quickly her face dropped when she saw him closing in behind her.

A quick calculation and she put on a burst of fresh speed to get to the goal before her boyfriend tackled her. The one other time he had tackled her was when they had been playing touch football with some of their friends one time and they both had gotten a bit too competitive.

After having him apply ice pouches all over her body and give her full body massages (which always led to sex) for a full month, she had just now started to forgive him. She hated to see that streak ruined but, as Ben had just put it, all's fair in love and football.

"You're mine." The growl that came from Ben's mouth had her stomach clenching in a delightful way and she finally understood the meaning of being scared and horny.

She could hear his breath coming out in sharp pants as he put on a final burst of speed to clear the gap between them. She gripped the ball tighter and urged her boot clad feet to move even faster.

The jangling of the metal bits got more frantic as she pushed her body even harder, gasping as she tried to fill her lungs with more air so she could get to the net before Ben could grab her.

She felt the ghost of Ben's fingertips graze her sides as she launched herself into the net headfirst, deciding on a whim that getting the ball into the net was way more important than her physical well-being.

Ben's eyes widened as he felt, rather than saw, her body move farther away from him as she launched herself, and the ball, into the net. Securing a goal for herself as Ben tried to stop before he landed on her.

The ball made impact with her chest and her first thought was, sorry boobs, knowing that they would be sore tomorrow as she hit the ground, bits of grass flying up as she laid there. Catching her breath, she rolled over onto her back to gloat at Ben.

Only to be greeted by Ben's massive form getting ready to land on her since he tried to stop too quickly, had tripped over his own feet and was trying to catch himself.

She squeaked, rolling onto her side, rounding her body around the ball in her arms to try to protect herself and her prize. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for Ben's form to fall on top of her.

When a couple seconds had passed and she hadn't been crushed by her boyfriend's muscles, she cracked one eye open carefully.

Ben laughed as he saw her eye opening up, roving around, trying to figure out where he had gone.

He shifted his hands so they would be further apart on either side of her body and lowered down into a push up to place a kiss on her cheek before pushing himself back up as she smiled and opened her eye wider.

Ben had managed to catch himself before he squashed her by placing his hands on either side of her body, his own body hovering atop hers as she rolled onto her back, smiling,

"That's a goal, I believe Mr. Jones." Ben couldn't help the smile that spread across his face whenever she called him by his "old" last name as he had begun to think of it.

She smiled back and playfully wagged the ball in his face. He scoffed and hit the ball out of her hands as he pushed himself up to standing.

"Hey! That's the game winning ball!" She protested as she scrambled up to grab it as Ben brushed his palms off on his shorts. As she bent down to pick it up, Ben took the opportunity to yell, "Nice ass" to which she promptly wiggled her butt at him as she performed an exaggerated bend and snap move.

"You do realize that even though you were joking around, that was still incredibly sexy, right?" Ben asked as he moved to stand in front of her, tucking her hair behind her ear. She blushed and shuffled her feet back and forth, avoiding Ben's gaze as she became overwhelmed by his direct stare.

Bending down, Ben met her gaze, "Hey, don't be embarrassed, it's a good thing. I meant every word."

A small smile ghosted across her lips as she nodded and shuffled closer to him so she could wrap her arms around his waist. Ben smiled, "Thought that I was too sweaty to be this close to you?"

"Shut up" came the muffled reply as she snuggled deeper into his arms as a particularly chilly breeze cut through their clothes.

The crisp blue sky unfurled before them as the leaves rattled from the autumn wind dancing around them. Ben shivered as her eyes tracked the movement of the leaves as they rained down around them. Covering them in yellow and red confetti as the smell of dirt and decay filled their nostrils as they both took a deep breath in.

"Hey"

Ben smiled, "Hello"

"Want to go home? You smell."

"Oh I smell huh? I think you smell worse than me at this point."

She reeled her head back in shock, "Me? That's only because you rubbed your boy stink on me!"

Ben's nose wrinkled, "Can you please never call it boy stink ever again? That's so distressing."

She sighed, "You have so many rules about what words I can and can't use it's really harshing my groove."

Ben chuckled, "I'm sorry my love. You're dating a picky man, what can I tell you? Words mean things."

"I know but first soccer and now boy stink, I mean, you've left me with nothing. I'm a shell of a woman." She sighed as she pretended to swoon into his arms.

Ben quickly caught her and pulled her closer to his frame, "You have to stop pretending to faint. I've already dropped you, like, three times in the past month alone."

"I know. And each time wounded me more."

"Love, I can't always catch you when you decide to fall-"

She gasped, "Each of those are trust falls and each one you miss my trust in you lessens-" Her sentence was cut off as Ben grasped her shoulders, his face the most serious it had ever looked;

"Please, never joke about that. I know you were just joking but even the thought of you not trusting me-I don't even want to think about it." She looked into his eyes and saw they were shining with tears. She cupped his face with both of her hands and nodded emphatically, "Of course sweetheart. I trust you with my life, Benjamin. You know that. And there's nothing you can do to break that trust."

Ben nodded and pulled her back into his arms for a hug. "Well, that's enough emotional shit for one day." he said brusquely, clearing his throat. She nodded as she tried to say something back but her voice was muffled by Ben's jersey.

"What was that, love?"

She pulled her face away, "Can we go home? I can't feel my fingertips."

"If you bought gloves that ACTUALLY covered your whole hand this wouldn't be an issue!"

"And how many times do I need to remind you Benjamin that I have an aesthetic to keep up!"

Ben scoffed, "It'll be hard to keep up your aesthetic when you have no fingers left."

"And harder to give hand jobs"

"WHAT."

She blinked up at him innocently, "Nothing! Let's go home. I'll make you hot chocolate." She beamed at him and fluttered her eyelashes in what she hoped was a becoming manner.

He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, "Alright. You've distracted me enough with the promise of hot chocolate. Let's go home."

She laughed and threaded her fingers through his, pulling him toward her car so they could go home together when Ben yelped pulling her to a stop,

"Jesus, love! Your fingertips really are freezing!"

She rolled her eyes, "Did you think I was lying?"

"Well, you are prone to great exaggeration-"

"Fuck you and the hot chocolate I was going to make you then."

"Just kidding baby. I love you so much, have I told you how pretty you are?"

She laughed as she pressed her fingers onto Ben's cheeks as he hissed and screwed up his face, "You're lucky you're so cute."

"And I'm lucky you love me so much." He replied softly.

She gently kissed him and they found themselves back in the same position they had been in when the game had ended. Standing on an empty pitch, not even noticing they were alone.

Because how could they be alone when they had the whole world right in front of them?

#ben hardy #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy one shots #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy imagine #ben jones fluff #ben jones oneshot #ben jones fanfic #soccer #soccer!ben hardy #soft!ben hardy #i just want soft athletic ben to be my bf is that too much to ask #ben hardy x reader #ben jones x reader #im open

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a0x0annie · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday, Stowaway.

I shouldn't have drunk so much.

It was three in the morning, or at least that was my best guess, based on the pink clock hanging on the opposite side of my tiny room and my not-so-trustworthy-now eyes. I was laying half-dead on the bed, having no energy whatsoever.

It wasn't the best birthday written in my memory - especially considering the fact that I remembered exactly none of the previous ones - so I decided to treat myself with a little bottle of wine...

...and ended up buying the whole shelf.

But fuck it, after all that happened lately I fully deserved it.

- Happy birthday, thottie - I said under my nose, pouring yet another glass of the driest red wine I could find. It was my "bitter" day, so I was happy that nobody bought me a cake.

In fact, nobody bought me anything, actually. But that's just a little detail. Not that I even told anyone my birth date, either.

All of a sudden, I heard knocking on the door. I had no idea who wanted to meet me at that hour, but I was way too drunk to care enough to check it. Hell, I had no energy to even open my eyes. Maybe someone had a vision in their dream, magically learned what day it was, and wanted to wish me a late happy birthday?

Not likely, but no one would ever stop me from dreaming.

Still staying in the comfort of my bed, I yelled lazily:

- Come on in, lost soul. You can leave the presents in the corner.

For a few moments I wasn't sure if they heard me, but just then the door opened gently.

Was it June? Ryona, perhaps? Better not her, she'd kill me.

- Good evening, Stowaway.

Cal.

Suddenly, all of my energy got restored, and the next second I found myself laying in a more seductive manner, with my eyes fully centered on this fucking giant. And dear God, he was just as tall as he was hot.

- Oh hello there, Captain Handsome. What kind of an urgent emergency is bringing you to me at this lovely hour?

Captain.

Handsome.

Just wow, Cath. You're absolutely the best at handling talking to people while drunk, aren't you.

I couldn't hold back a smirk though, when I saw the confusion mixed with a little bit of curiosity and fake frustration in his honey gold eyes.

- Oh God, not you, too - He whined, closing the door with a loud crack, in which all of the remaining gentleness that had surprised me earlier disappeared. Well, that was quick, not gonna lie.

- And here I thought you would like it. Isn't it cruel, even for you, to break my little poor heart like that? - I leaned back, dramatically covering my eyes with the outer part of my palm. - Though I might have gone a little overboard with the whole "handsome" thing, I agree. My bad.

I loved messing with him. I just believed that this overly proud, self-absorbed prick with a stick up his ass longer than my life line needed a little cutting down to size.

He frowned, unsatisfied.

- Call me that once more and I'm cutting your salary by half. - He leaned against the wall. - What even made you think it was a good idea?

- A tiny, itsy-bitsy bit of alcohol, probably.

He then noticed a few bottles laying on the ground. On the bed. In my empty "presents corner".

And fucking everywhere else.

Calderon started grinning, and I couldn't help but feel the irresistible urge to wipe this little smirk off of his sweet face.

- If anyone asks, it's grape juice.

- What kind of grape juice forces people to make a fool out of themselves in front of the others?

- Well, I should be probably asking you this question - I had to bite my lip to hide the mischievous grin that was about to spread all over my face, seeing Cal's reaction. - What? Did I strike your nerve, Captain?

- When didn't you? - He brought himself back to the straight standing position, and being the classic grumpy Calderon everyone knew so well again. - Well, you're having fun, I see. I only hope it won't affect your presence during tomorrow's duties.

Saying that, he lowered his eyebrows and gave me that firm look he just loved giving everyone.

- It would be a shame if you weren't around, considering that you're starting this week with your first kitchen shift. That would be pretty incompetent, even for you. - He gave me a sarcastic look. - And besides, you wouldn't like to be kicked out of the crew so soon, would you?

I rolled my eyes.

- I'd manage, I'm a smart girl. But wait... - I sat more comfortably. - Was this your entire point of coming to my room? At three in the morning? - I breathed in and out loudly. - Oh my God, and here I thought you couldn't be any more... you.

- I just wanted to be sure that I won't have to starve, waiting for our lovely princess bubblegum to make us all this exceptional honor of waking up and condescendingly serving us a meal. - He looked at me sarcastically. Again. - Also, was that an insult? If so, I feel deeply offended - After saying that, he processed to raise one of his eyebrows to the sky.

I fake gasped.

- Me? Insulting you? Never! Now I am offended. I love your ass-stick so much that I wait for the day when you finally pull it out so I can see it closely - I formed a little heart with my hands.

A part of me didn't buy his excuses, or maybe didn't want to buy them, so I asked:

- Are you sure this was your only motive coming here, though?

- Don't even try to provoke me.

I smiled to myself.

- Don't you worry, sir. I was going to fall asleep soon anyway...

That was a lie.

- ...and at the very least I didn't plan to misbehave.

That was an even bigger lie.

Suddenly, a fun idea crossed my mind.

I smiled and looked him straight in the eye, innocently.

- I mean, unless you order me to, of course. You're the captain here, after all.

That ought to be interesting, I thought.

Calderon realized what was going on, or at the very least that was what it seemed like based on the look painting on his face. Posing myself a little more seductively on the bed again I gave him a challenging look, and after a few moments of what I guessed was an inner fight whether to join me or not, his expression changed, mimicking my own.

Ladies and gentlemen, or whatever other pronoun you prefer, please give a warm welcome to our new Player 2!

Let me see what you've got on you then, golden boy.

I stood up from the bed and tried my best to walk up to him without tripping on one of the dozens of bottles left after my one-guest-only-party. I was doing just great (or so I thought), but then I remembered that one small detail, which was that I was kinda fucking drunk and my legs didn't work that well anymore.

After coming up with some - not gonna lie -quite creative curses in my head, I tripped and started falling off.

Oh yes, breaking my nose was definitely going to make me look incredibly sexy. Good thing I'd look amazing no matter the circumstances - or so I'm told, at least.

Accepting the fact that I was about to lose my own game that I started literally a minute ago, and probably a few teeth as a bonus, I covered my face with my arms and prayed to not fell on a bottle. I had enough shitty scars already.

Just before hitting the ground, I unexpectedly felt a tight grip on my waist that held me back and I sighed with relief. Looks like for a moment I forgot that Cal was, indeed, in the same room as me. And I could say a lot of not exactly favorable things about him, but even he wouldn't just let me break my entire face in front of his feet.

And besides, blood is quite hard to wash off, so here's that, too.

As I was making myself stand on two feet again with a little of Cal's help, I rememberd my first day on the A6 and what I told June when the exactly same situation happened.

Maybe our flirting battle wasn't over yet after all.

Why am I falling so often here, by the way?

- Nice catch! Now you can tell the others that I fell for you. - I winked at him.

This line is fucking brilliant and you cannot convince me otherwise.

Cal didn't look too impressed, though.

- Well, hadn't you before that, already?

...Was I this obvious?

I tried to keep a straight face, ignoring the heat that was spreading all over my cheeks. Wow, I blush so rarely that I've actually forgotten how it felt like.

And I didn't like this feeling at all.

- Aren't you a little bit too confident, dear? - saying that, I tried to keep my balance. I didn't want to rely on him so much.

When I was finally stable on the ground and in (almost) full control of my body once again, I "accidentally" lost my balance and leaned closer to him. Then, I wrapped my arms around his neck like it was nothing; like I was just trying to not fall again.

To be honest, I wasn't sure if he would even let me do that, but he did - and that was the moment when I knew my plan was working.

Our faces were almost touching and I had to hide the excitement of knowing what was going to happen next, because come on, even a child would guess that.

I looked him straight in the eyes with a bold expression.

He then asked me with visible playfulness in his eyes:

- I knew you were quite a flirt before, but... - he laughed shortly. - Do you always mess with hearts of the innocent when drunk?

- Only with the ones that I'm interested in when sober. Very interested in - I said without skipping a beat.

A huge, mischievous grin spread across my face as I saw Calderon's beautiful reaction. It was so obvious he didn't see that coming, and the image of him squirming under my gaze was quite satisfactory to watch.

- Oh, what's that, captain? Caught you off guard? - I was so drunk that I started laughing at my own stupid joke. - Get it? Off guard?

Did I really just cockblock myself like that.

Wow, genius.

After a few seconds, my incredibly dry and unfunny pun hit Cal like a hard rock that must have damaged his head, because he started laughing uncontrollably with me. The sad thing was that, unlike me, he was actually sober. Oh, Cap.

I couldn't tell how long we were in this state, but let me tell you, way too long.

- Okay, you got me here, I admit - he giggled one more time shortly in a low voice, composing himself way faster than I ever could. - What do you want now, a cookie?

- If you insist. - I said that, wiping tears off my face, still smiling like an idiot. - I'm always down for something sweet, ya know.

Like a kiss.

Or something a little more than a kiss.

Just sayin'.

He started looking serious again and I couldn't believe how fast he went from an adorable dork to an ordinary jackass in a matter of seconds.

No, wait. I could, actually. It's Calderon, after all.

- Alright, it was fun and all, but now better wipe that stupid grin off of your face and go to bed.

- Or else? - I asked him, looking from under my long eyelashes, as innocently as I possibly could, and smiling like an angel that I definitely wasn't.

- Or else I'll have to make you do it.

This simple sentence was enough to make my whole body hot, with the desire so powerful that could knock me out any second.

I didn't expect him to answer me like that at all.

Am I horny or am I horny?

- I'd love to see you try - I said, while desperately trying my best to keep my cool. I wasn't going to give him that satisfaction.

But then he looked me with lust in his eyes and my whole plan of not acting like I've lost my mind fell apart.

I felt like a complete idiot, no one has ever made me act like that except for this jackass. I was always the one making other lose their minds, for fuck's sake! How did the roles turn around so fast?

What's more important, why did I even like him this much? He was like every other high-class dick I've met in my life, and believe me, I've met a lot of them.

And yet, there was something... else, about him. Something that somehow made me interested in him.

For the first time in a very long time I was flirting not to gain what I wanted to survive or simply out of habit, but because I wanted to, and because I actually meant it. And I... almost felt like didn't have to keep my mask on.

Almost.

- You know that ignoring the orders of your boss is not the brightest idea, considering your current situation, right?

- Oh, shut up - I tip-toed, waiting for my kiss.

He then leaned down and whispered to my ear:

- Happy birthday, Stowaway.

And just like that, he was gone.

I smiled.

- Well played, Captain. Well played.

---------------------------------------------------

My first fanfic ever, yay! Haha

I'm not a writer and English isn't my first language so I'm sorry for all the mistakes, weird writing etc.

I had fun writing this though, so if anyone likes it I might post my other fics ^w^

Happy Valentine everyone ~

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fairyshuuu · 5 years

Text

wild valley pt5 | chanyeol

.summary. Park Chanyeol; sweat rolling down a naked back mixed with motor oil, you; white sugar sticking to your gums at sunset– ice cream flavored. Drugs, booze, money. He’s everything you’re not, the question is – for how long? .word count. 7.3k (i’ll keep it around 5k she says) .mechanic!au | gang!au | car shop!au. .pairing. chanyeol x reader .genre. angst, romance

.warnings. mature language, alluding to depression ♫ let me set the mood ♫

teaser. part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. part 5. part 6. part 7. (m) part 8. (m)

He lets out a deep breath as he pushes his car into the next gear, and stares out the window on the long stretch of straight road that folds out in front of him. The gentle hum of the car in the silence of the falling day is soothing, lapping at his thoughts with fever. Long strips of clouds color shades of orange this far from the sun, walking on the line between night and day. His one hand is on the wheel, the other hanging out the window to feel the wind play between his fingers. It feels like it’s been so long, since he got the chance to go out on a drive, just burning fuel as his mind calms.

Now, alone in his journey to nowhere, he feels starving. Not in the physical sense, as much as the mental one. He’s needing— though what for is unclear in his mind. It’s always been like this for Chanyeol, his thoughts present but encrypted. He only knows what he doesn’t want, unable to articulate the jumbled mess in his mind as long as he’s floating in the familiarity of life. Days go by without thinking, sometimes. It shouldn’t be surprising that he prefers not to talk about himself, when everything is so muddled. How are other people supposed to know if he’s okay, when he doesn’t know it himself.

Luckily, driving has always alleviated some of the pressure. Watching the road slip underneath the car at the same steady pace brings peace to his mess, a quiet he’s not felt much over these last five years. He looks back at the road to follow the sway of it, lighting a path up the hills. The chill of coming night brings goosebumps to his exposed arms. The street lights flash by the window rhythmically. The car slows as he takes a breath, grabbing the wheel a bit tighter. He must be possessed driving up here, since last time he did he swore never to return.

But the night is cold and his thoughts are still, and when he parks along the side of the road, all feels right. Fate might be on his side for tonight, he thinks. As he opens the door, the last of the sunlight fades behind the ocean, letting the night swallow the earth. He gets out and locks the car behind him as he crosses the street, enjoying only the jingling of his keys as background music. The small patch of grass has gone through multiple cycles of death and rebirth, but it still looks the same since he last saw it. The stone bench is covered in writing, most of his faded or covered by now.

With a sigh he takes a seat, and lights a cigarette— watching the cloud twirl in the rising air. The city looks peaceful from up here, away from the noise and bustle of the garage, the parties, the memories. He used to come up here almost every other day before. Printed into his day like ink into the paper of a novel, mended to the very idea of it. However ironic, without words his days passed by and with them, the love for this place grew. It didn’t need to be said, his actions and touches loud enough to send a message to linger long after he delivered it. Hard, with slaps and punches and bruising kisses he would receive the answer, which always ended in yes.

Yes, I’ll be there with you. Yes, I’ll kiss here for you. If he held on long enough, yes, I’ll lay here with you. It didn’t need to be said. Coming here alone though— he realizes, that’s as far from familiarity as he can get. With his free hand he brushes his unstyled, white hair out of his eyes, and leans back to swallow the impending darkness that will follow if he keeps this going. Enough, he wills, brows pulling together. He feels the need to spit, getting rid of the sweetness sticking to the back of his teeth, though he doesn’t actually follow through. Instead it sits there, mellowing and melting to his greedy tongue.

As hard as he wills not to, sitting with the silence forces thoughts. It pulls at his conscience and drags him out of the shadows by his feet, unwilling to let go. He clenches his jaw as he stares out over the lights, chest moving and swelling and bulging with the weight of the giant muscle between his ribs, painful. Dragging in the smoke doesn’t provide enough, so he drops the half burned roll to the grass and digs it into the ground with his heel. His hand falls limply back in his lap, now having lost it’s function. And as he thinks, the words get louder and louder until he needs to tilt his head up to the sky because the city lights burn his eyes.

Peace for just long enough to make him lace his hands together over his stomach. Without meaning to, a distant sound kindles the small spark that flickers in the back of his mind, pulling it to become a full blown flame. The sound of a car speeding past over a distant road transforms into a giggle, female and while it doesn’t sound much alike, a shiver makes it’s way down his spine. Her laugh, as it echoed down the hill with the heat of a forest fire. Her dark hair clinging to her neck as they ruined their innocence completely, sweat dripping from their bodies and eyes filling with tears.

And suddenly his joints ache, and his teeth crunch so hard that they could shatter under the pressure. For thoughts as heavy as these, should be coated with gasoline and sent up in flames, stewing in a pile until the sun evaporates each layer. They don’t belong in the world, and surely not in this small cage that is his body. He feels small— young in the wake of her, like a child being abandoned by the side of the road and it’s this that he hates most of all. His hands curl into fists automatically, eyes closing. Everyone needs to get out of his head. She needs out of his head.

The cooling air slips between his lips in small swallows, how long he sits in the void unclear. When he finally moves to light another smoke to soothe his eager taste, his bones seem to cackle in displeasure. But the coldness only does so little to soothe. He finishes a cigarette, and another one, disconnecting from the world as best he can, until his fingers are so cold that it gets hard to move. Reality calls— literally, when his phone interrupts the lingering silence that surrounds him, startling him. Chanyeol sighs deeply, before picking up and holding the object to his ear with his shoulder.

“Yes?” he breathes, volume low in the void.

“Hey, Yeol,” Sehun responds, sound of music muffled in the background. “You’ve- uh- you’ve been out for a while. I just wanted to check if you were alright, is all.” He clears his voice, and waits for an answer, and when it doesn’t come right away, “So— are you okay?” A voice sounds out in the pause of the call, from this or the other side Chanyeol is not sure. He takes a deep drag, having the nicotine fill every cell of his lungs, really drowning in it, before he lets out a hum.

“I’m okay. Always am,” he says. It stays quiet for a long while on Sehun’s side, before another voice sounds, this one definitely calling out to the blonde.

“You heading down soon then? It’s no fun here without you.”

Chanyeol smiles a little, unable to help it, and responds in agreement again. “I’m heading down. Though I highly doubt that.” No direct answer follows, so Chanyeol sighs. “I’m hanging up now, see you in a bit.”

“You got it. Drive safe, jackass.” Sehun’s laugh is loud when he hangs up the call, sinking the little bench in peace once again.

The large metal room is significantly colder than the summer shine that coats the piers. You let out a little noise of agreement as you wiggle closer, stretching your one leg over the free part of the couch, and rest your head comfortably sideways. Lou, who is sitting— or more so laying in the couch across from you, sends you a knowing smile and shakes his head left and right, before sipping from his vodka-redbull. A large hand makes soothing circles on your back, which makes you bite back a smile, instead pulling your lips between your teeth.

You can feel his gaze on you as you lay, and press your face to his thigh with a snort. “Stop looking at me~” your voice turns into a slight whine, unable to help it, “it’s embarrassing.” Baron chuckles, moving and while you can’t see him you only hope he looks away. From across the couch, Lou nods, his smile shifting into a slight grimace, and while you know he’s not serious the expression is insanely amusing.

“She’s right. It really is embarrassing, for all of us to sit through your lovey-dovey couple shit.” Before you can refute him, Yoonoh jerks his glass in your direction with a laugh, making the amber liquid spill over a little, dripping down the glass and his fingers. He licks it off, before continuing, unbothered. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his typical Yoonoh behavior.

“It’s only that loser who is head over heals,” he has the smallest grin and points at the redhead as he talks, “shortie here is a baddie! She doesn’t want a boyfriend, I’ve heard. Such a player.”

You lift your head enough to glare at him, and send him the finger. “Who do you think I got it from?”

A bigger smile comes to his handsome face. “I’m the most loyal person here, baby. If you ever want a taste, you’ll have to wait your turn.” You definitely roll your eyes this time, but get rid of the glare as you regard him. Though you don’t believe a single word that comes out of his mouth, you have to admit that you’ve yet to see him bring a girl over. Of course, that doesn’t mean much in a world where people have sex to have sex and no attachments are needed. “What is your excuse for sleeping around, huh?” he grins, enjoying the flush that comes to your cheeks.

All the while, Baron’s hand travel comfortingly over your skin, thoroughly enjoying the conversation. He doesn’t seem to notice your flustered state, or if he does he doesn’t mind it. “You shouldn’t assume things like that, you dweeb!” Yoonoh chuckles a little. You look up to catch Baron’s eyes, scrunched up with the smile that rests there, as he brushes some of your hair out of your face.

“As if those hickeys on your neck got there by accident!” Yoonoh points out, his tongue brushing over his bottom lip as he points his free hand at you again. When your eyes widen, Baron chuckles a little, and peeks out his tongue. The other two boys stay quiet to watch your reaction, which morphs from surprise to understanding, and then to embarrassment.

With a big pout, you look up at the redhead, and wrap your fingers around his bicep. “You said you wouldn’t leave marks! You- you said no one would know,” you bite your bottom lip, watching his smile widen to a beaming giggle. Lou just snorts when you look away, hiding your flushed face entirely in the fabric of his black t-shirt. “I’m mortified. Bury me six feet under now,” you mumble.

“I’m sorry, shortie,” Baron leans in to run his hands though your hair, still laughing between breaths, “I thought you’d have noticed when you looked in the mirror. And I swear I didn’t do it on purpose, it was really an accident. If I wanted to mark you I would’ve done so the other two times too, right?” You look up to give him a light punch in the chest, before dropping your head back. His free hand slips under your top to drag soft figures into your skin, fingers warm on the surface of your back.

“But they’ve been there the entire day, Baron! That means my sister saw them, and she knows I don’t have a boyfriend.” At your sigh, you feel someone plop down into the couch next to you, lifting your legs to rest them over his own thighs, as he pats your calf.

“It’s not that big a deal, don’t worry. You’re hardly the only person who does things like this, the majority of adults in this city have or will at some point.” Yoonoh takes another sip of his drink, before picking out a cigarette and lighting it. You guess he’s right, but still your cheeks feel warm. You didn’t even notice, when you quickly tossed your hair up out of your face, and ran out the door to greet Baron. Which is slightly silly, you also realize, since you could’ve spent the night just as easily, instead of going home to meet up a few hours later.

From across the space, Lou crosses his arms over his chest. “So you guys aren’t together?” he asks, voice low and gravely. You know that he has a girlfriend too, though you’ve yet to meet her. She lives a few hours away, hence the delay. When you shake your head in response, he frowns. “Why not?” Baron’s hands still on your skin, clearly wondering the same thing. You never really gave him a reason after all. And while you shouldn’t have to, he’s a good person, and deserves one.

You push out your lips as you debate it, eventually shaking your head. These thoughts are ones better suited for a late night by yourself, blankets pulled over your face. Not when you’re hanging out with the only friends you’ve made here. “I- uh- I have my reasons,” you bring out, not looking at anyone in particular. “Reasons I don’t want to talk about right now, okay? Let’s not ruin the mood with my depressing inner demons.” Though he doesn’t say anything, Baron’s eyes are soft when he regards you, flicking between the features of his face. The heavy, metal door is pushed open to reveal the rest of your friends, streaming into their personal hideout with too much excitement.

“Hey guys, shortie!” Van says, glancing over in the direction of you four as he pushes past Jacob. “We’ve stacked up on beer for tonight.” He puts the two crates over by some of the empty ones, and looks over his shoulder. “What are your plans for the rest of the week? I need you to keep Wednesday evening free.” Lou frowns, but shrugs, indicating that he didn’t have any plans for the week to come. Van continues as he straightens up and walks over. “We have a job to do, and I can’t have half of you running off making other plans. That goes for you too, Heejun!”

You lift yourself from Baron’s embrace enough to sit up somewhat straight, and pull your eyebrows together in question. “What kind of ‘job’?”

At this, Yoonoh flicks your calf, and grins at you. “Aren’t you a nosy, little monster?” When you put out your tongue at him, he smiles, but goes serious soon after. “It’s nothing you should worry your pretty head about, sugar.” He nods at the oldest then. “You can count on me, I’ll keep time open.” Some of the others lose themselves in conversation as they join on the other couches, enjoying the mixture of alcohols on the table.

When you look around the group, no one seems much surprised at the mention of doing a job, which makes you settle down. Their casual response is somewhat less ominous than the thoughts you are having. Though you’ve spent way too much hours with these boys in the last month or so, you don’t actually know that much about them. You don’t even know what makes them the money they need to survive. Baron lays his arm across your shoulder to pull you a little closer to him, where you gladly melt into his side. He brushes his thumb over your cheek, before smiling softly. “If you want I could take you? We’d be going on a bit of a drive, us two.”

Though the words are clearly only meant for you, Yoonoh catches them. He frowns for a long while, before giving the older a little shove. It surprises you, so much so that you startle out of the embrace. “Baron, are you crazy?” he says, quiet enough not to disturb the conversation of the other guys. You look over at him, but he just gives Yoonoh a round-eyed look, lips pulling into a line.

“What?” the older eventually says, squeezing your arm gently. You take that as an invitation to come back to him, and settle against him once again. “She can handle herself, Yoonoh. I was just making a suggestion in the first place. It’s up to her.”

“Don’t bring her into our mess,” the other finishes, downing the last of his drink and plopping it on the table without another word.

You frown, since this is the first time you’ve ever seen anyone of the boys argue. “Will you two stop talking about me like I’m not here, please.” Yoonoh shakes his head but gets up from the couch without a word, and walks away. You look over at the redhead again, to send him a questioning look. It’s not like Yoonoh to react this way. He’s the one who normally makes fun of everything and everyone. “What kind of drive?” He doesn’t respond right away, instead staring across the room at nothing in particular. “Baron?”

Your gentle call seems to snap him out of his thoughts, because he turns to you to brush a thumb over your cheek and send you a calming smile. “Never mind. I’ll take you on a drive some other time.” He leans over to the table then, and picks out a cigarette from the cutely packaged, pastel box.

Chanyeol stares blankly at the ceiling, feeling his chest move up and down too quick. There’s a panic in his heart that hasn’t been there anymore since he was a young child, veins racing with an emotion he can’t just explain away. Chanyeol feels sick, hating the pressure between his lungs as he tries to take deep breaths. He mentally doesn’t have the brain capacity to process everything right now. The house feels cold, and for once Chanyeol feels like he could burst into tears right then and there.

As he turns his head to the side, the painful sight greets him again. A plain wall, an empty floor. Clean, for all purposes and despite this it feels unsettling. Because that’s where her suitcase used to be. Dara’s suitcase has been there ever since the first weekend they spent together, her never having the energy to clean it and him never wanting the sight to change. It was her way of allowing him in, her little door into her soul. But without a word, he woke up and it was gone. All of her stuff, her pictures, her sweater that used to lay on top of the closet for months vanished. Like she’d never been there at all.

Phone number discontinued. Chanyeol feels dizzy thinking about it, as he stares at the dent in the wall she made one night in a drunken haze. It’s been two days, and he can’t help but think that Dara wouldn’t do this. His Dara wouldn’t just up and leave. But as he thinks it over again and again, he knows full well that she would and it’s this that brings tears to his eyes. The butterfly he so carefully nurtured suddenly flying away with a warmer breeze.

And he feels angry, he does, but it’s overshadowed by the deep and complete self-hatred and the knowledge that if he would have done more, said more— she might have stayed. If he would have been more, she would have stayed. If he would have kissed her better even when she punched him so hard he felt out of breath, if he would have told her he loved her more even when she spit venom at his face, she would have stayed. And he feels guilty, because he promised her he’d save from the pit she was drowning in. He hoped she would save him too.

Baekhyun is gone, having to drive halfway across the country for business and leaving him alone in the process. She left not much after. As he rolls out of bed, a stinging is tangible in the air, cold with the knowledge that he failed. The longer he mulls it over, the more unbelievable it feels that she’d just leave. No, impossible in fact, she couldn’t just have left him. They were good, they were happy. They had their issues but they were happy, and that has always been what mattered. Dara wouldn’t leave, which means something must have happened to her.

He looks around his room for his phone, having discarded it carelessly after calling for hours last night. He picks it up. No missed calls. That’s alright, he convinces himself, focusing on finding another number. “Hello?” he sighs into the receiver, not willing to waste any time. Baekhyun hums on the other side, the sound of his car engine in the background. “Have you seen Dara?”

“No. Why are you asking me if I’ve seen your girlfriend? I’ve been gone for two days.” So has she, he wants to say, though he doesn’t. He just runs a hand through his hair.

“I’m not trying to play around, Byun. You haven’t heard anything from her either, the last couple of days?”

Baekhyun leaves his playful tone for a more serious one. “No, I haven’t.” She could have gone on a sudden trip, and forgot to tell him. Maybe he wasn’t listening well enough. “Chanyeol, are you okay? What’s going on, why are you asking me about her?” Doesn’t matter that Baekhyun hasn’t heard of her, one of the guys would have. She wouldn’t just straight up vanish, she just wouldn’t do that, he convinces himself.

They’ve been together for long enough now, he knows her. “Nothing is okay until I find her,” he mumbles, disconnecting the call to search his contacts for Jongin instead. “She didn’t leave me. She wouldn’t.”

For once, the garage isn’t overflowing with noise. It’s quite calm, despite the fact that almost everyone is here. They’ve all seemed to mutually keep quiet and focus, and he can’t lie, it’s a whole lot more productive this way. As he lies down on the creeper and scoots under the lifted car, someone starts whistling a cheerful melody in the back. He grabs hold of the heavy, metal pipe hanging halfway loose, and starts unscrewing the other bolt holding it in place. The exhaustion pipe is terribly old, and makes a racket any time you drive the car anywhere. He carefully catches the pole, and cleans some of the excess black oil from the threaded bores, and rolls from underneath the car again.

With the same dirty, grey rag he cleans off his hands, before getting up from the floor and putting the rusted pipe aside to replace it with a new one. The door opening catches his attention for a second only, before he turns back to his work. The guys have been stepping out all day to take breaks from the physically straining work that they’ve been enduring. But as he stares down at the new exhaustion pipe, a penny falls. He snaps his head back over to the door and leans back to get a proper look. Sure enough, your face is the one that greets him, though you’re not looking over in his direction.

Baekhyun taps the glass of his office excitedly to greet you, and waves you over. “Hey, sugar cakes! What are you doing here?” Chanyeol watches as the man who came with you loops his arm around the small of your back, clearly aware of the amount of other men gathered in the garage. He vaguely remembers him, though from what he’s not sure. One of the many parties thrown by Exo over the last few weeks, most likely. As Baekhyun talks, you get a small smile on your lips, and Chanyeol has to wonder when you two got so friendly.

But Baekhyun is a social butterfly as colorful as they come, so it’s not really to anyone’s surprise. You giggle, softly— but it sounds loud in the silence between the metal clashes that Jongin is creating from under his own car. “I heard you guys do tattoos. I didn’t know if I had to make a reservation or anything, so I just decided to come over. If you’re busy-” Before you can finish your sentence, Baekhyun hops out of his chair, excited to have something to do besides paperwork, and walks over to you with a cheeky smile.

“You’re getting a tattoo?” He surveys you, before tutting his lips. “I have to say, I didn’t pick you for one to get all interested in body modification.” All the while, Chanyeol has been staring at all of you, only looking away when he realizes. Though his eyes slide to his hands, he can’t help but hear the rest of the conversation. “Did you lose a bet with your boyfriend? Or is he just the one who got you into it?”

“Oh,” you mumble, laughing a little, “he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Sure he’s not,” Baekhyun allows, before clapping his hands, “Jongdae is free right now, you don’t need to make a reservation.” He stays quiet for a few seconds for dramatic effect, before continuing. “But I’m busy so I can’t take you around, sadly. Chanyeol, come show our customers to Jongdae’s lair, please.” At the call of his name, Chanyeol physically feels his stomach turn. He’s never been awkward in just about any situation, but there’s a flusteredness to his actions when he looks over, feeling caught. Baekhyun looks very proud of himself.

The stranger to your side is the first to look over, politely smiling at him. Chanyeol feels the urge to roll his eyes at the situation, both at Baekhyun who so clearly is trying to annoy him, and at the attitude of the other. When he walks over, cleaning his hands on his overalls the best he can, you just look at your feet. He swallows, before sighing. “Right,” he mumbles, taking his sweet time taking you in from head to toe. It’s been a long couple of days without seeing you.

You look different, he notes. He still remembers seeing you for the first time— in your plaid, baby blue dress and a healthy flush to last a lifetime. You’ve exchanged the bright colors for a deep red top and a black skirt now, both not covering enough, with glossy lips and the longest eyelashes he’s ever seen on a person. “Follow me.” As he leads you two past some cars under the amused gaze of Baekhyun, you don’t make eye contact with him once. It’s strange, because he half expects you to burst out into your excited monologue any second.

You don’t. When he looks over his shoulder, you’re looking around at the other guys and even send Jongin a wave, but he can’t get a look out of you. He should have expected this, asked for it multiple times too, but now it’s happening it doesn’t feel completely right. He leads you and your friend up the stairs to Jongdae’s tattoo parlor, holding the door open. You look up at him once as you pass through the door, but look away just as quickly, instead grabbing hold of the hand of the redhead by your side, leaning into him slightly.

Jongdae’s gaze travels from Chanyeol, to you, to the man next to you and then back to Chanyeol again. Though he doesn’t voice the question, it’s readable on his face. The tallest sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as the door falls shut behind him. “Y/N is here for a tattoo. I trust you are free right now?” At the mention of your name, Jongdae’s eyes now glide over you again, taking you in more carefully. He nods, before giving his signature kitten-like smile, and lifting his brow at his friend.

“So you’re the ice cream girl, huh?” You don’t reply with anything but a nod, as Chanyeol leans against the wall of the door. “Well, come up here and we’ll get you started with an idea.” He pats the chair in the middle of the room, turning to his desk to skim through the mountain of designs for some clean paper. You turn to the tall man to your side, and lift your shoulders.

“You know how I said I wasn’t nervous?” you smile, looking up at him as if in search of comfort. When he nods, you giggle. “It’s really catching it up with me now.” He brushes your hair out of your face, and squeezes your shoulder gently with his own smile.

“It’s not as big a deal as you’re making it out to be. It only hurts a little, and you’re not getting a huge piece so it’ll be done in no time.” Chanyeol holds the need to scoff. He’s surely ‘not your boyfriend’, that’s why he’s holding your hand. You nod at his words, and turn back to Jongdae, who is patiently waiting for you. When you hop onto the chair, an excited smile comes to your face, lighting up the room top to bottom. You really look shining when you’re happy, Chanyeol must admit, enjoying the way your joy spreads to others if they get close.

“Where are you planning on getting one?” Jongdae asks, professional as ever.

“I’m not sure,” you smile at him, and then glance at the other man quickly, who also pulls up his shoulders. “You’re the tattoo artist here, not me. I want to start some place that isn’t going to cripple me for days, if that’s possible.” Jongdae snorts as he listens, eyes turning into moons.

He nods. “Places with more fat or muscle covering the bone will hurt a lot less. Arms or thighs are good places to start, or on your lower back.” He hums then. “Even shoulder blades and neck are bearable in plain. I just wouldn’t recommend and hand or feet tattoos as a beginner, because those areas are very sensitive and you have to be very still.” You nod in understanding.

“Can I get one on the outside of my upper thigh,” you ask, “right here?”

When Jongdae nods, you smile again. “Sure you can. Do you have any idea of what you want?”

“I do.” You turn over your shoulder then, really giving Chanyeol your attention for the first time since stepping in and it’s slightly startling. You keep his eyes, and lift one brow at him, smiling softly. “We’ve found our way here now, Chanyeol. Thank you. You can get back to work.” He opens his mouth to respond, only to stop midway and chuckle softly. Right. You turn to the redhead then, ignoring his questioning glance over his shoulder to grab his hand. “You better be staying right here, Baron. I’m not going through this alone.”

“You got it, shortie.” Chanyeol can’t help but slam the door closed a little harder than necessary.

For as much as he doesn’t like going out, he’s been doing a whole lot of it lately. He sighs and tightens the grip on his bottle, watching Sehun and Baekhyun amuse themselves greatly with some twins. He doesn’t know what is being said, but can make out enough on the girl’s faces to understand it’s not the most modest of conversations. The base of the music is loud enough to make his bones vibrate, the flashing neon lights morphing human bodies into a single moving mass with limbs sticking out left and right.

The sight makes him kind of uncomfortable, aware of the huge amount of people pressed into the average sized house, and also aware that he’s one of the only ones not participating, which pulls gazes. He moves past the people sucking face along the wall to squeeze past a group of very drunk girls, one of whom tries to cling to his arm. He’s moved before she even can, which leads her to stumble forward like a limp noodle. As he walks, he is able to make his way to a less crowded area, turning out to be the kitchen.

The counters are littered with tens of opened bottles of strong alcohol, some of them wet and all of them sticky. Though something stronger does sound nice, he’s been hungover too much lately, and decides to stick to beer for right now. Two people are sitting against the cabinets further along, curled up in a ball and sleeping on each other. He doesn’t give them a second thought, instead opening some of the cabinets to search for some food. It’s not polite, but he couldn’t care less, because he doesn’t even know who hosts this party.

He finds some dry cornflakes in one of the cabinets, and picks it out. As he stuffs his hand in the plastic bag, a smaller shape comes into the kitchen from the corner of his eye. It’s only when he turns that he notices it’s you, and you’re staring at him. You’re drunk, clear as day. Your eyes are round and dark and your bottom lip is jutted out into a half pout. When you don’t say anything to him right away, he just shrugs it off and continues eating, not wanting to be bothered by you.

It’s relatively quiet in the kitchen for a while, still surrounded with the loud buzzing of the music in the other room. The door does little to keep out the overwhelming noise. When you clear your voice, he looks over at you. “You’re the most mopey person I’ve ever met,” you mumble, gesturing your hand over to the plastic bag a couple of times to request it. “I’ve been so nice- been so nice to you and you always act like an asshole to me.” For some reason, your tired expression and slurred speech is somewhat endearing.

“You’re the most annoyingly happy person I’ve ever met,” Chanyeol responds, tossing the bag to you, where you almost drop it. “Do you ever realize that people might have their own things going on? Things that keep us from being happy?” You turn around to hoist yourself up onto the counters messily, and lean your head against the wall as you scoot back into a more comfortable position. You seem to think for a while, but eventually just blink twice.

“What on earth could be so bad that you can’t even manage a smile?” you mumble, stuffing some of the cornflakes in your mouth. You stay quiet as you eat, just closing your eyes for a bit. You too, must be happy to be out of the sweaty mess for a bit. When you open your eyes again, Chanyeol looks away from you, instead focusing on the cracks in the wall across from him. You sigh softly. “You’re breathing, you’re healthy. Isn’t that something to be happy about?” When he doesn’t respond, you hum to yourself, and tear open the bag a bit more to have better access. “Well, you might not think so. But that’s something to be happy about to me.”

Truth is, your words hit home. It’s something he’s been asking himself a lot recently, wondering if the clouds above his head are really as dark as he feels they are. But instead of saying that, he looks back over at you with a frown. Giving in to you would mean losing the fight, and he’s not willing to do that. “Are you always this talkative, or did you just see me and decide that I was going to be the one having to undergo your unending sunbeams?” Your blinking is slow, evidence of your exhaustion.

“No, you’ve made yourself clear last time. I’m not talking to you anymore.” You cross your arms over your chest stubbornly, looking at him from under your lashes. Chanyeol looks back, but shakes his head.

“Then what are we doing right now?” he mumbles, brows pulling together more.

You huff. “Not talking! I didn’t even say anything.”

A little chuckle slips between his lips. “Sure.” He could walk away, but the disadvantages of being in a messy room full of sweat outweigh those of being in here, so he keeps his feet planted. Your small shape is dressed in a tight dress that hikes very high up your legs, even exposing the tape of your freshly covered tattoo. He knows he shouldn’t, but can’t help but be aware of the amount of men that would jump to get a piece of you. As he watches you, you blink up at him and bite your bottom lip in thought. Yes, Chanyeol thinks, you’re too attractive to be sent out alone into a world so harsh. “Did you come here alone?” he asks, “where are your friends?”

He doesn’t mean to sound as harsh and scolding as he does, but you don’t seem to care either way. You just pull up your shoulders and look over at the closed door, as if you would spot them through it if you tried hard enough. “I don’t know.” Then you look back over at him, and pull your pretty lips into a tight line. “I lost them pretty much as soon as we entered.”

At this Chanyeol can’t hold a deep sigh, moving from his side of the room over to yours. It feels much like a peace offering, he thinks, since his guards don’t come down easily. You’re vulnerable right now though, and however badly he wants to ignore it, he can’t. He walks over, smoothing out the frown etched to his features as best he can. “Fine, come on,” he says, grabbing you under your arms to lift you from the counters and put you down on the floor. You’re pretty much a child right now, unable to fend for yourself.

You don’t hesitate to grab the his elbow as he starts walking, holding him back sightly with a gentle tug. “Where are we going?” you mumble.

“Outside. I’m not leaving you here alone.” He needs a smoke, and knows that the kind part of his heart wouldn’t let him live if he left you here for the wolves. When you open your mouth to respond, he quickly continues, not wanting to give you the wrong idea. “Not because I want to. You’d get into trouble if you walk around out there on your own.” You don’t confirm or deny anything, and so Chanyeol pulls open the door in hopes that you’ll follow him. You do. He walks to the crowd more easily this time, already having a person clinging to him. He makes it to the back door and tosses it open, relieved to get away from the loudness of the party again.

The back door leads to a little balcony, covered and with a railing to keep people from falling the one feet drop. Once outside, you let go, and lean your entire top half over the railing. Chanyeol leans his elbows there as well, watching you take deep breaths. Fresh air should do you some good. He stuffs his hand into his pocket to pull out a lighter and a cigarette, and slides it between his lips. “So, your boyfriend just left you?” he starts, looking over his shoulder to keep an eye on you. When you frown in confusion, he runs a hand through his hair. “The redhead?”

‘Ah’, you mouth, cutely cocking your head to the side. the frown doesn’t leave your face. “He’s not my boyfriend. And he didn’t come out tonight. My other friend is picking me up in a bit.”

“He sure looks like he’s your boyfriend,” Chanyeol responds, looking out over the garden cast in only the moonlight. Grass sways softly in the slight breeze.

“He’s not,” you say, more sure now.

“Why not?”

“Because!” Your eyes get all sharp as you talk, ready to light him up in flames and he has to hold a smile because he sees much of himself in there, despite all of your differences. You two might not be as polar opposite as he first thought. You’re not done though, voice gaining volume the longer you speak. “If you have a boyfriend, you end up hating that person in the end. You start off in love, but it never lasts. I’ve seen it. And I don’t want to go through it myself, okay?” Chanyeol pauses, before holding his hands up in defeat, and looking away.

You run a hand through your hair, and pull out a pack of Camel from the small purse you have with you, dropping it back to the floor after. Without asking, you fish the lighter out of his hand and light one of the cigarettes, staring at it for a long while. It’s surprising even to him. “You smoke?”

You don’t bring it to your lips yet, instead mirroring his position to look out at the world. A small smile makes it’s way to your lips. “It’s something new too.” If the words are laced with eagerness or disappointment is hard to tell, maybe a mixture of both. “Baron smokes, I guess it kinda rubbed off on me,” you admit, glancing at him for just a bit, before bringing the burning stick to your lips. You handle it like it’s something tender, like you’re kissing the smoke. He looks away.

“It’s bad for your health, you know.”

You snort, the sound too loud in the quiet. “As if you’ve care. I’ve never seen you without a cigarette before.”

“Habits make the toughest enemies,” Chanyeol just says, nodding a little. The wind picks up, making goosebumps appear on the exposed skin of his arms. He imagines you must be cold. When he looks over at you, you’re resting your cheek in your hand, eyelids fluttering closed slowly. “Hey, don’t fall asleep now,” Chanyeol calls, watching as you flinch a little from being ready to drift off, “your friend is gonna be here any minute, and I’m not carrying you.”

You hum softly, and give him a small smile. “I’ve texted him. He’ll find me.” Right as you say that, the door behind you two opens, sound of music rushing back in and breaking the small bed of peace you’d woven for yourself.

“There you are! I’ve been walking around here for ten minutes trying to find you, shortie.” The man that stands in the doorway sounds familiar, making Chanyeol turn. You smile wide as you look over your shoulder, and run over quickly to give him a sideways hug.

“Finally. Everyone else has gone up in smoke, I wasn’t having fun anymore.” The man’s wide smile at you fades as he glances at the second figure. “It’s fine though, because Chanyeol was here to keep me company. Thank you.” Your gratitude falls on deaf ears, too busy figuring out the situation to care. Chanyeol clenches his jaw, frown back fully and to stay, this time.

“Yoonoh,” he says, voice low. You’re friends with Yoonoh. Of course you are.

“You guys know each other?” you ask, eyes flicking between the two men who stand tall above you. Your confused pout is back.

“Something like that,” Yoonoh just says, glaring at the other with lighting in his eyes.

hope you enjoyed this part as well! it’s pretty long, but i think it’s my favorite chapter because they are just so..ugh adorable together and dumb idiots who don’t know what they really need (spoiler: each other). thank you all for the messages and comments, i’ve been reading each and every one and i’m just so happy you’re liking the series.

tag list: i’ll probably not take anymore tags for right now, because the list is getting a little long ^^ thank you for all the love! Please remember to read everyone else’s stories as well, they’ve spent so much time and hard work crafting the rest of this universe!! All my lovelies: @ninibears-erigom @suhoerections @kimjongdaely @kyungseokie @kpop---scenarios @yeoldontknow @baekwell--tart @skjdln @strongpowerhope @i-dont-wanna-kokostop @brie02 @baby-hands-x-x-blr @baek-byunies @shxrl4747 @lucymheng @byunfirstlady @chanyeolol @snowflakesandkisses @you-know-bts @puppykangie @kkpoptrashhh @im-a-special-bebe @joolsreads @i-dont-wanna-kokostop @yoongnysus @itsjustyvie

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multishipperlove · 4 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Caleb Widogast, Bren Aldric Ermendrud Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Transmutation Magic, Starvation Mentioned, zemnian, Since this is pre-canon Caleb is continously referred to as Bren Series: Part 6 of Zemnian Roots Summary:

Bren is barely a few weeks out of the Sanatorium, trying to keep himself afloat while getting as far from Rexxentrum as possible.

Growing up, Bren had heard many stories of the Eisfus River. Springing from high up in the Dunrock Mountains it ran through the Empire like a pulsating lifeline, leaving giant cities and lush fields in it's wake, swamps and trading ports, gouging it's way through the land like only natural elements were capable of. But he'd never actually seen it. As important as the river was to the fields, to the orchards and pastures that sustained his old home village, Blumenthal was too far away from it to justify the time it would take to travel there. And for what reason anyway, as long as it didn't dry out there was no issue. During his time at the Academy, there hadn't been time either. There had never been time for anything, really.

Now it was ten years later, and with a feeling of his mind still only being half his own, maybe it was fate that Bren had ended up travelling along the riverbanks for the last couple of weeks. At least he knew that the river was leading away from Rexxentrum. Away from Vergessen. From everything he knew. Right now, Eisfus was his lifeline. Wandering from one small town to the next, trying to avoid bigger crowds, he was slowly making his way further into the Empire than he ever had, still trying desperately to try and make sense of what his life had become.

For the first few weeks, basic instincts had been enough. From Vergessen he had first managed to flee into the Pearlbow Wilderness, where his frantic mind had latched on to shelter, food, and water, drowning out anything that wasn't immediately needed for survival. It was how he had found his way to Eisfus in the first place, frozen over just thick enough to walk on without leaving any traces behind, but not impossible to break through either for food or water if he needed it. Following it had been a easy choice.

Back in civilisation though it wasn't as easy, he actually needed coin to survive. And while he might not have a lot of morals left by now (he had long proven what kind of person he was) it still didn't feel particularly good to swindle other people of their hard earned money. In every man's face who bought one of his tricks, smiling and not yet realising he'd been duped, he saw his father counting his silver at the end of the month, wondering if they would be able to pay rent. Every woman holding a child's hand turned into his mother, questioning if they could afford to send him to school for another year. Some nights he told himself he didn't need to eat, almost relieved to chose hunger over any painful reminder of his past.

On other days, it wasn't a choice though. He had tried, standing in the same corner of the market place for hours now as he ignored the steady drizzling of rain to give his usual spiel, barely even getting a glance though from the people busily passing by. But just as he turned to leave, deciding he'd have better luck curling up somewhere and saving his energy, he felt a gentle tug on his coat.

“Hey Mister... can you really turn copper into silver with your pot?”

Bren looked down. A little boy was looking straight back, maybe ten years old, buck teeth poking out from behind his lips as he spoke with a thick Zemnian accent. It took Bren a moment to answer, and he stayed in Common in the hopes of not drawing any attention to himself. “Well, it- I mean, once a day, ja. It is a difficult thing to do.”

“And have you done it today?” he asked curiously.

Bren was really wondering where this was going now. Also, children had a habit of making him feel uncomfortable. Too perceptive, sometimes, even if adults didn't tend to believe them. “I have not, no. Why are you asking?”

The boy looked down for a moment, scuffing his shoes against the mud. “I have copper... and it looked like you were 'bout to leave and not sell the pot, so I thought you might not need it today.”

“Ah. And you want me to turn a copper piece into silver for you?” he asked, understanding now. The kid nodded, grinning a little as his expression turned hopeful, and Bren sighed softly. The way the trick worked, he would have to let the boy wander off with one of his last silver pieces. To assure the illusion of an instant transmutation, instead of having people wait ten minutes during a presentation, he had a silver piece in his pocket turned into copper, which he could simply drop concentration on if needed. It also helped that people only realised the scam 24 hours later, instead of less than an hour when he couldn't hold the spell anymore. Usually it was enough time to get out of town.

And of course, loosing a silver piece was well worth the sum he usually got for selling the little bowl he used for his trick. Only that this time, he wouldn't get that. All it would get him was a happy child he would never see again.

With another deep sigh he dragged a hand through his hair, taking the bowl out of his coat pocket. Leaning down a little, he took the transmuted copper piece out as well, showing it to the child. “Okay, I will do it. But you can not tell anyone I did this for you, and you have to help me with the incantation. Alright?”

The smile in front of him grew three sizes as the boy gave an enthusiastic nod. “Yeah! Of course I wanna help, how do I do that?”

“Well, come here,” Bren muttered, motioning for him to step a little closer before guiding small hands to hold the bowl and placing the coin in the middle. “I noticed your accent. You speak Zemnian?”

Another excited nod. “Ja.”

“Very good. If your parents have read you some fairytales before, I'm sure you'll know the magic words that activate this little device,” Bren told him, smiling a little as well as he saw the wonder in the boy's eyes. “I'll start, and you just have to speak them with me, okay?” Another nod, and Bren started to speak, slowly, pronouncing every syllable clearly so the boy could join in. “Sim sa la bim, bam ba, sa la du, sa la bim.”

As they finished the last part Bren dropped his concentration on minor alchemy, and the coin glistened and almost started to vibrate for a moment as the deep copper turned into a lighter, vibrant silver. The kid gasped and immediately grabbed for it, turning it around and in ever direction as if trying to see if any of the old copper was left on it. It wasn't.

“Whoa... this is amazing,” he finally mumbled, looking back to Bren again with obvious awe. “Did we do that?”

“Of course,” Bren assured him. “You saw it with your own eyes, didn't you. And it's all yours now.”

The boy still looked like he couldn't believe it, not taking his eyes off the coin at first, and Bren saw that as his cue to leave. Straightening up he smoothed his coat out, already starting to feel awkward, but before he could walk off the boy stopped him again, pressing a piece of copper into his hand . “Here, this is for you. Because you used one of your coins instead of mine... and I promise I won't tell anyone!”

And with that, he ran off. Not very far, Bren could see him join up with a group of other children just on the other side of the marketplace. Gesturing excitedly, showing them his silver piece. From the sceptical expressions Bren could tell that he had most likely told at least something of the coin's magical origin, and the others didn't seem to believe him. He didn't blame them. Whether they believed him or not, after a few minutes of discussion they seemed more interested in getting back to playing, though the coin did not disappear yet. Instead they formed a circle, the boy in the middle, and started a game that was very familiar to Bren. Everyone held their hands out in front of them, allowing a small item to be passed to them from the player in the middle without being seen, while singing a short song. Whoever could tell where it had ended up by the time the song was over was usually allowed to keep the item, a game more commonly played with pocket change or candy. Maybe the silver had gotten them excited.

Despite it having been decades since he had played anything like it, the words came back to Bren easily as he finally turned away. Pulling the hood of his coat deep into his face he started walking, away from the marketplace and the children, out of the town. Back towards Eisfus to follow the winding path it had freed for itself, leaving the little boy and his silver piece behind.

Taler, Taler du musst wandern, Von dem einem Ort zum andern. Das ist schön, das ist schön, Taler lass dich ja nicht seh'n.

#critical role #cr2 #caleb widogast #cr fanfic #writing #fanfiction #mine #zemnian

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whereisthecd · 4 years

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Magnolia Riders: SuperM/Saddle Club AU✨

Meet the Magnolia Riders, a high caliber Equestrian Club showcasing some of the best, albeit chaotic, talent in the region. As the winter rest is coming to a close, the high intensity training at Sunset Magnolia Equestrian Center resumes in preparation for the first hunter jumper show of the season. While the team of hardworking goofballs is hoping to get their first group win of the season, their competition seems to be internal with the It Rider™️ on their team creating one storm after another. And then there’s the new guy with a not-so-superstar horse, or so it seems. How will the Magnolia Riders do this season? Will the barn aisle drama subside enough for a win? What’s with this new guy and will he find his way as a Magnolia?

Chapter One: First Bloom

Key Terms This Chapter

Gaits: The different paces in which a horse moves, for example (in order of speed) walk, trot, canter, and gallop. Riders usually jump horses at a trot or canter. Each gait has a different rhythm and movement.

Mounting Block: A fancy word for a step stool that riders use to step on which helps them get onto their horses, usually to help riders who have horses much taller than them

Line (for jumps): A set of two or more jumps that a rider jumps their horse consecutively. The spacing between the jumps may be different, but the point is that the rider will jump them one after another before moving on in the course

Taeyong stood outside the crimson barn doors, the arch of his back pressed against the metal hinge, grey crumbs of alfalfa dust rubbing onto his bomber jacket. He looked out onto the pastures, stars reflecting down onto shaved meadows. The soft echo of crickets singing their evening hymn drowned out the uneasy rhythm of Taeyong’s heartbeat. His eyes panned down the dirt path that serpentined past the crease of the horizon.

This is it. Our new home, our last chance. Don’t blow it.

A soft sigh escaped his tiny frame, the gust of his own breath shook his windpipe. Before he had time to inhale, a soft voice sang from behind him.

“Ah, Taeyong!” a small silhouette appeared. A thin man with a slightly bigger build jogged towards him, nearly floating down the barn aisle. His dark eyes lightened through the blonde locks of hair falling over his brow. Now arm’s length apart, Taemin gripped onto Taeyong’s shoulder.

“Thank you for being here. I know things have been rough, but we - I, want you on this team. If you need anything ever, come to me, okay? This is your barn family now, I promise.” Taemin squeezed Taeyong’s shoulder in a quick beat before bringing his arm back. Taeyong’s soft eyes glanced up at Taemin. A few moments passed before he spoke up.

“Um, of course...I mean, absolutely. Thank you, I really mean it. I don’t want anything to clout your -”

“Don’t - don’t worry. Just show up, and again, come to me for anything. You’re going to be a great team member. I know it. Now get some rest before tomorrow.” Taemin smiled, trying to reassure Taeyong after interrupting. Taeyong let out a soft smile, slightly creasing his dimples. Taemin nodded and walked towards a gravel path leading to a quaint cottage-like manor. He turned and waved back before marching forward.

Taeyong let out a breath of relief. He had been holding it the entire conversation, making his cheeks transform into cherry blossom petals. He turned back into the barn, walking slowly down the aisle, soaking in the names of each horse as he stepped forward. They were all too distracted by dinner hay to pay any attention to him, except for one, a gentle mare at the beginning of the second stretch of stalls. At the sound of footsteps, a white head covered in smokey grey blotches popped out the stall window, letting a few stray pieces of alfalfa fall from her mouth. Her eyes widened and ears perked forward at the sight of the thin boy before letting out a soft knicker. Taeyong giggled and picked up the bits of hay on the ground.

“Well, this is it, Flower. Here we are,” he said, laying his hand flat under Flower’s mouth as she nuzzled the hay out of his palm. He ran his hand along the side of her neck, tangling his fingers into her salt and peppered mane.

“I promise I won’t move you again, just back me through this, babe,” he rested his head onto hers for a second before looking back at her. Taeyong stuck his hand into his jacket pocket, fishing around enough to make the wrapper he was digging for crackle. Flower rocked her head back and forth at the noise, suddenly becoming impatient.

“I know, I know. I’m trying to get it….there!” Taeyong fished out a green tea candy from his pocket and popped it into Flower’s mouth. He patted her one last time before slowly walking back to the barn doors. As he pulled it shut, he paused to look back at his girl down the aisle.

“Tomorrow is a new beginning, let’s make it a good one, goodnight,” he said quietly. Taeyong turned off the barn light and closed the door.

___________

Ten pushed off the mounting block and threw his leg around the saddle, his left hand gripping into Frida’s cropped black mane. Sitting upright in the seat, he always looked like a natural extension of his partner. Their slim yet built frames connected into one, both growing more focused as Ten guided Frida into the arena. It was time for work. Mark followed his brother close behind, Annabelle walking at twice the pace Frida was, her little white legs trying to keep up with her taller counterpart.

Taemin stood in the center of the arena. Though he was petite and only a few years older than the lesson boys, his presence radiated discipline and maturity. Next to him sat the barn dalmation, Moon, equally as disciplined. He had been working all day, yet Taemin’s breeches looked unscathed, and the red vest he wore over his long sleeve shirt only tightened his thin frame. Even though his serious tone radiated through the arena, his soft smile always made the brothers feel at ease.

Ten lined up across from Taemin, with Mark following suit. Next to Taemin stood an unknown paint horse, a calico surprise for the boys in the high-caliber jumper world. Atop sat a thin, quiet boy seemingly a bit uneasy standing across from the brothers. Meanwhile, Taemin looked down at his watch before flashing his eyes back at the barn. Someone was missing, and while Taemin never wanted a rider to miss out on learning, he had a strict rule about arriving on time. He peered up at Ten and Mark, expecting them to have an answer. Ten snapped quickly hoping to ensure his innocence.

“I don’t know! Things seemed fine when he got here!” Ten pleaded. Taemin let out a chuckle and shook his head before looking back at his clock. Ten breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at Mark with rosy cheeks, thankful that his name was cleared under Taemin’s standards.

“I’m sure he’ll be here! Let’s just get started, I can feel Annabelle getting anxious and it’s making me nervous,” Mark nervously chuckled before gripping his reins tighter.

“Jesus Mark just breathe, she’s fine,” Ten jabbed before looking back at Taemin. Ten prided himself in being the teacher’s pet, nearly gloating it in front of the stranger in the arena.

“Alright let’s just get started. Y’all this is Taeyong, he’s going to be a new addition to the Magnolia Riders. Please welcome him and Flower to our team, I know they will make us all proud,” Taemin gestured for Taeyong to join the boys in line. Mark shot Taeyong an uneasy yet comforting smile from the other end of the line, but before Ten could add any sort of snarky remark, a commotion exited the barn.

“Come on! God dammit, Gus!” cried a tall muscular figure desperately trying to jog into the arena, using all his weight to pull the giant grey horse behind him. Out of all the Magnolia Riders, he looked the most unorthodox. His football player-like frame seemed to explode in the tight elastic of his breeches and his 20 year old energy, while determined, radiated comedy over equestrian. However, he was still an avid rider, and more than qualified for the Riders a couple years back. The boy pushed his helmet into the proper position on his head before throwing his body over the horse and desperately kicking him forward. Tail swishing, the horse stubbornly trotted into the arena. Ten and Taemin both let out sighs.

“Lucas what could have possibly happened?” Ten asked, his voice slightly raised over Mark’s loud giggles.

“He wouldn’t come out of his stall!” Lucas whined, forcing his horse into line with the rest of them. Taemin noticed one of Gus’s protective boots slightly hanging off his hoof. He leaned down and adjusted it before patting the horse’s neck.

“Well I am glad you and Augustus made it. Next time, text me for assistance. I’d rather you ask for help than be late,” Taemin smiled at Lucas before being introduced to Taeyong. The two boys waved at each other across the line before returning their stares back at Taemin, now walking to the line of jumps in the center of the arena. Moon followed close behind. Taeyong noticed the militant attention given to their instructor, which seemed polar opposite to the energy Taemin expressed to his students. Taeyong sat calmly, relaxing his shoulders to soak in as much as he could.

“Today, we are practicing lines. Our spring show is less than two months away, and we know this was something that made us stumble last season,” Taemin began, now walking towards the boys.

“I want each of you to warm up, put your horses through the gaits each way, trot and canter. Then we will practice some exercises before doing the line one at a time. I want to see heals down, a firm leg, give your teammate their head as they get over the jump. Mark and Lucas, I need you to count your strides out loud. And lastly, let’s have some fun. Happy training season!” Taemin motioned towards the center of the arena before sitting on the mounting block. As Taeyong went to urge Flower forward, Ten briskly moved Frida by.

“You better learn to keep up, I’m not letting anyone ruin our chances this year, especially new people,” Ten snarked. Taeyong could sense the concern and insecurity in Ten’s voice, but he couldn’t help but let the words sting. Taeyong took a deep breath and continued forward, hoping to just keep to himself the rest of the lesson.

Taemin sat admiring his students riding around the perimeter. He was always quick to teach, whether that was encouraging Mark to soften his hands on the reins, or reminding Ten that relaxing his shoulders will make him a show champion. Even though his students were only a bit younger than him, his near-Olympic history gave him the responsibility to bring these riders to greatness.

Taeyong rode comfortably along the perimeter, matching Flower’s stride along Gus’s. He tried not to make too much fuss as to not disturb Lucas, but what he didn’t know was that Lucas was dying to have another buddy in the arena with him.

“Hey man, I heard what Ten said to you. Don’t mind him, he’s easily the best rider here, it’s just...complicated. But wow, I’ve never seen a paint horse in the ring, she seems super cool! Also uh, I’m sorry for delaying the lesson. Gus here is a good boy he just likes to pick on me.” Taeyong laughed at Lucas’s candor, the boys nearly in sync as their horses trotted through the back end of the arena.

“Thanks, Flower’s a great girl, she’s just misunderstood. It’s what drew me to her in the first place,” Taeyong nodded at Lucas before extending Flower into a canter. Ahead of him was Ten managing Frida. He sat so quietly as his mare began to let out little bucks.

“That’s alright, Ten. Just hold your seat and let her figure it out,” Taemin coached from the middle. Meanwhile, Mark flew around the ring with Annabelle, seemingly letting her take the lead. She wasn’t an old lesson pony, but she was seasoned. Mark’s naivety was easy for her to take advantage of, and Mark didn’t seem to mind one bit. At times, Mark could easily be mistaken for a younger rider, even at the age of 20. His abilities were strong, but his confidence got the best of him at times. However, he and Annabelle had the longest history in the group. Luckily for him, his height never outgrew the large pony. After a few minutes of warm up and random tasks from Taemin, it was time to put in the real work.

“Alright one by one, remember what I asked of you. I believe in you all.”

Mark, being first in line, urged Annabelle forward. He gripped onto the reins tighter. Riding wasn’t his profession, but it was a great way to make friends and build confidence, or so he hoped. After a quick circle of cantering to get Annabelle ready, Mark began counting his strides, eyeing the jumps.

“Yes, Mark! One! Two! Three! Four! One! Two! Wait, alright slow her down! Mark, slow her down! Okay pull her in! Mark!” Taemin anxiously urged him, staying calm as he watched Annabelle blow through the jumps and take off down the other end of the arena. Mark bounced back and forth like a toddler careening off course in a PF flyer. Taeyong watched in horror, assuming the worst with nothing but fence in Annabelle’s way. Ten on the other hand, shook his head in disappointment, while Lucas let out giant bellows of laughter as they watched Annabelle skid to a stop at the distant wood fence. Mark hunched over in relief, walking his wild pony back into line.

“Whoa, guys. I wasn’t ready for that,” he said nervously before laughing. Even as an apprehensive rider, he still trusted Annabelle beyond her antics. Taemin smiled and shook his head, relieved his rider was alright. He then looked up at Lucas, signaling his turn to urge Gus forward. This pair may have been a walking circus act, but Taemin knew deep down they both wanted to please. He sat back and watched the two move forward, keeping quiet this time. Lucas squeezed Gus, proving he knew what to do. Gus obliged and set his focus on the jumps ahead.

Taeyong’s impression of Lucas in the first few minutes of the lesson was no match for what he was seeing now. The duality of the athlete on the grey horse nearly gave him whiplash. Lucas was now in perfect form, counting his strides and eyeing the end of the line. Gus’s stride widened, and Taeyong knew when these two were on, they were the smartest duo in the ring. With minimal effort, Lucas and Gus flew over the first jump, nailing the stride coming onto jump two. Taemin was equally as impressed.

“Yes, nice! Lucas that is - oh shit” Taemin’s praise was too good to be true. In an instant Gus’s laser focus was lost as he tripped coming into jump three. Instead of careening over the final jump, the giant grey lug crashed into the poles nearly catapulting Lucas out of his seat, his upper body collapsing on Gus’s neck. His own mistake caught Gus by surprise, causing him to let out a buck before halting immediately, throwing Lucas back into the saddle. All Lucas could do was turn back and look at his instructor with blank eyes and a nervous smile.

“Well, the first two were beautiful,” Taemin uneasily reassured him. Lucas walked his trusty steed back into line. All he could do at this point was give his boy a few reassuring pets and thank Christ that he didn’t fall off.

Before his name was even called, Ten was moving Frida forward. He knew he was the top student in this lesson, and it was known by everyone else. Riding had been his dream since he was four years old. Now, at 23, he was feeling like his dream was overdue. He had been Taemin’s student for a few years now, but unbeknownst to him, Taemin had been Ten’s idol since he was a teen. All he wanted to do was please Taemin, but he also wanted to prove himself to the rest of the horse world. If anything, today was the day to prove to his instructor, and the new kid, that he was the rider to beat. Ten urged Frida faster, her stride nearly floating over the floor of the arena. Ten floated on top of her as well, his legs as strong as a linebacker, but his body poised like a ballerina’s.

“Yes good, keep your shoulders relaxed, eye’s forward. Keep your leg on her,” Taemin shouted. He knew these two were a show-winning match, as long as Ten didn’t let his confidence get the best of him. With nearly no effort, Frida cleared all three jumps. Ten loosened his rein’s in preparation for Frida to throw her head in excitement, he knew his partner too well, and she knew she did a good job.

“Yes, Ten! That is the standard I want to see every time. Nice work!” Taemin came up and patted Ten’s leg, sending him into giddiness only Mark and Lucas could notice. “Alright, Taeyong. Last but certainly not least, show us what you got.”

Taemin’s soft eyes reassured Taeyong. He knew everyone would be watching, whether it was Lucas and Mark hoping for a solid teammate, or Ten looking for mistakes. Taking an extra loop around the arena, Taeyong tried to calm his nerves. Flower seemed unbothered by the new arena and her rider’s uneasiness, competition was fun for her. She picked up her pace hoping to provide some confidence for Taeyong, which he allowed. As they rounded the corner to the line of jumps set diagonally through the arena, Taeyong focused between Flower’s ears at the crimson fence peering past the last jump. Eyes focused, his small legs gripped to the sides of the saddle, they took off.

Flower sailed over each jump with ease, even lengthening her strides into the final jump. What was normally supposed to be three strides, Flower did in two. While not necessary, Taeyong patted her neck with acceptance. He knew his girl could do it.

“Wow! Even shortening the strides! Next time, try to keep her at three, but what an impressive first run. Y’all we have a competitor on our hands!” Taemin cheered. Ten let out a small huff, knowing he wasn’t the top dog of today’s lesson, while the other boys shot thumbs up in Taeyong’s direction. He didn’t want to be the star of the show, but he could at least fit in with his teammates enough to stick around. The boys ran through the line a few more times before cooling down for the day.

“Nice work everyone! We have some things to improve on but I am continuously impressed with you all. I’ll see you for our lesson tomorrow, and we can talk more about the annual bake sale,” Taemin said before sending his riders to the barn. The boys all walked in a group of four back to the stables, taking turns railing Lucas for his stunt with Gus, and talking about the upcoming season. As they entered the barn, they noticed a beautiful blonde boy hovering in the arm of the muscular stable hand, Kai. Kai was the eyes and ears of the barn, and a nice view to admire, but desperately quiet. However he was quite chatty with the polished boy in high-end breeches and a black turtleneck. Before long, the boy noticed the Riders coming into the barn and left Kai’s side.

“Well look who it is, ahh if it isn’t my esteemed teammates. Oh look what we have here. My, it’s a circus pony, never seen one of those in Taemin’s ring before, isn’t that cute,” he sneered in Taeyong’s direction. Taeyong had no idea who this boy was, but he was already turned off by his candor. Before Taeyong could respond, the boy waltzed by, slamming his shoulder into Taeyong’s. As he glided past the boys and out the barn, he turned back and glared at Ten.

“Hello number two, glad to see you’re enjoying your title,” he said before turning towards the pastures out of view. Ten huffed and clenched his fists into a ball. Taeyong looked back at him.

“Who the fuck is that guy?” he asked, seeing no need to filter his words after the rage that came from the blonde boy’s insults. Ten’s face now flushed, he took a pause before responding.

“That’s Baekhyun, our fucking teammate.”

#SUPERM #superm fluff #superm fic #baekyong #exo #SHINee #NCT 127 #wayv #baekhyun #taeyong #wayv lucas #wayv ten #exo kai #mark lee #taemin #slow burn #superm smut

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voicesofchaos · 4 years

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VOC’s Review of the art of Magic The Gathering Core 2021

I an no art expert. Never studied art professionally. But I do consider myself a Vorthros (someone who appreciates the art, story, and flavor of Magic The Gathering). So I have been wanting to this for a while so let’s try it. If this is liked then maybe I will do it again for Zendikar Raising. I’m not going through every card in the set. Just a handful that really stood out to me and I just want to talk about.

Indulging Patrician by Miranda Meeks

Normally I like to save the best for last but this one is so obviously the best art in the set that I need to lead with it. When I first saw this card revealed my jaw dropped. It is purely captivating! It embodies what vampire artwork wants to be. From the powerful dominant vampire woman in the center, to her poor powerless victim, to the beautiful blood moon behind her, to the swarm of ominous bats, all highlighted with blood. Of course the traditional gender role reversal feels so perfect and not forced here. It is a beautiful artwork and you should want to play Magic just to look at this card.

Liliana's Scorn by Josh Hass

We are not moving away from the gothic horror yet though. This is sadly a card that most players will never see as it isn’t in the Core 2021 booster packs but is in the Liliana planeswalker deck. Making this art very easy to overlook but quite impressive when examined. You really feel the struggle of the victim as he fights a losing battle against a horde of zombies. Being in the center you might think he is the protagonist that we cheer on to escape but Liliana even in the backgrounds steals the scene and you know she wins this fight. This is just a great group piece where each individual zombie displays a surprisingly amount of depth which truly makes this piece feel even more hopeless for the poor victim and even more empowering for Liliana.

Basri's Solidarity by Paul Scott Canavan

Basri Ket is a new planeswalker in the set but instead of looking at him directly let’s check out his magic instead. This is a piece that perfectly embodies cooperation and teamwork, Each figure looks quite a bit different, has a different background, and a different specialization. Yet they are all subtlety bonded together through the sand that basri controls. The way it wraps around and protects them all it a cool and powerful effect.

Obsessive Stitcher by Joe Slucher

And we are back to dark and creepy. But I can’t ignore in crazy details in this artwork. On Innistrad, the doctor Frankenstein-like scientists that create ‘zombies’ though alchemy and science rather than straight-up necromancy are called “Stichers”. And this one piece explains all that without any words (except for the 1000 words a picture is worth). The corpses all have different faces showing that this is not simply a construct made from a generic stock but instead were actual living human beings at one point. The ominous green vat behind her is hooked up to them pumping them full of something that can’t be good. Plus we also have ominous test tubes in the background to really hammer in the point of “evil mad scientist”.But then her actual clothes has lots of handy tools to show a devoted craftsman. As she literally stitches thread through not only her diabolic experiment but also her passionate artwork. And finally I did not even notice until seeing the enlarged art but she is missing her right hand! I assume this counts as positive disabled representation right?

Village Rites by Bud Cook

I promise this is the last dark and creepy card (maybe) on the list but I have to give this one a shout-out. It is a throwback and homage to the card Village Cannibals from Innistrad. Even the same artist. Definitely one of my all-time favorite MTG arts so I am very happy to see a remake of that art! It is nice when Magic throws in the little nostalgia winks randomly.

Tolarian Kraken by Svetlin Velinov

Magic will often use what they call “Scale Birds” to show how big something is. These are tiny birds near a creature to show how much bigger the creature is than the birds and give a size comparison. Sometimes birds are too small and they use something like “”Scale Deer” or other mammals. Well then those are still too small we now have a “Scale Castle”! What is more terrifying than a Kraken this big! As if that isn’t bad enough it’s brain is actually visible and has like lightning coming from it or something. This feels like a very epic piece where you can feel the motion and terror from it.

Daybreak Charger by Forrest Imel

The next several arts are going to be under the category of “Things MTG does all the time but needs to make it new each time.” I feel it is most appropriate to start with this unicorn. You see unicorns take occupy a very unique position in both general fantasy genre and pop culture itself. Unicorns are very recognizable so they are very much a great fantasy trope to include. But they also have a reputation of being aimed at “young girls” and in the process made to seem very soft and non-threatening. MTG is a game about combat! You don’t want to summon a gentle non-threatening creature to fight for you but it wants to have unicorn cards. Meaning it wants “badass unicorns!”. Well they absolutely succeed here! But the beautiful thing is they need to over-correct. It wasn’t necessary to paint it all black and cover it in blood. We don’t need to put it on a heavy metal album cover to show its fierce side. Instead bright light is used in a way that makes it seem comforting but also powerful and not to be messed with. This is a unicorn that you are relieved to be on your side and terrified of seeing on your opponent’s side. That takes serious talent to bring it all together!

Chandra's Incinerator by Craig J Spearing

First I apologize that this art is a little cropped from the original. What is another thing that shows up all the time in fantasy art? FIRE! It gets hard to draw fire so often and make it feel different. This is a fire elemental so that is a bit different but still something we have seen a lot. The card Fire Elemental was in the very first Magic set. That card has had 4 different artworks and 3 other cards have some for of Fire Elemental in their name (Deepfire Elemental, Firefiend Elemental, and Wildfire Elemental). This one is clearly meant to be a nostalgic nod to the original art and it works so well! The fire is so detailed and intimidating but the creature is very expressive. It is very refreshing to see yet another Fire Elemental in such a new fashion and perspective.

Terror of the Peaks by Andrey Kuzinskiy

How many times have we seen a dragon in MTG? Over 200 times!! This set alone has 3 dragons! We have seen zombie dragons, skeleton dragons, dragons who breath lightning, dragons that breath frost, dragons covered in metal, and all kinds of other dragons. But sometimes you just need to go back to basics. But basics do not need to be boring. As we see here this is an awesome basic dragon that embodies everything you think of when you think of dragons yet still blows you away with how awesome it is! This is quality dragon art

Shacklegeist by Igor Kieryluk

Ghosts and spirits are again a common trope that gets redone a lot. I really like how this piece can just take a mundane object with some symbolism behind it and just make an entirely new creature from it. This is basically a giant lock with ominous chains attached being held by a specter and it all works so well together! This art style being more watercolors is a nice final touch to give this piece a spooky feeling but also a really cool feeling too.

Rousing Read by Campbell White

I am going to end this with a bit of a weird piece but I didn’t want to leave it out. This is apparently a follow-up to the card Hard Cover from the core set before. This guy has magical wings made from the pages of a book! Like I don’t have anything else to add. That is cool enough by itself.

Special Mentions

Alchemist's Gift, Chandra Heart Of Fire, Garruk’s Uprising, Peer Into The Abyss, and Sanguine Indulgence. All cards with awesome art but I don’t want this post to go on forever (and some of them I couldn’t find good clean versions of just the art). Please tell me what art from Core 2021 I missed that you really liked!

#MagicTheGathering #MTG #Core Set 2021 #Art Review #Vorthros

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violetsmoak · 5 years

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Tabula Rasa [3/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20183281/chapters/47879533

Blanket Disclaimer:

Summary: Tim and Jason have known they are soulmates for years, though neither has said anything about it. Tim thinks Jason doesn’t know, and is just trying to live with it. Jason thinks Tim knows but doesn’t care, which is fine with him, he thinks the soulmate thing is a crock anyway. But one night, a minor mishap forces them to confront the issue head-on, leading to a series of events no one could have predicted.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #danger #enemies to lovers #i’ll protect you #soulmark tattoo #soulmate aversion

First Chapter

Author's Note(s): Low and behold, plot, and not just Tim whump. (Although there's definitely a big hit of that, too)

________________________________________________________________

Jason maintains that he doesn’t run. He just makes a well-timed exit.

Out of Gotham.

He meets up with Roy and Kori who are in Key West of all places and convinces them to do something on the other side of the planet. Somewhere dusty and without reliable communication technology, where he hopes they’ll end up being abducted by aliens again.

It has nothing to do with wanting to ignore the whole soulmate thing, or the nagging flickers of guilt he experiences for having been an epic douchebag to Tim, who he now knows gives a shit about being soulmates.

Which isn’t Jason’s fault.

It’s not on either of them that Tim got stuck with Jason or that Jason had to make clear where he stood on the issue. There’s nothing worse than giving someone like Tim false hope.

“Not even breaking his heart?” Kori asks, cross-legged on the couch in her trailer, hair flickering above her like a crackling fire. She ended up getting the story out of him within a day because she’s Kori and lying to her feels like slapping a kitten or something.

“First, I didn’t break his heart. Second, if I did, he’ll get over it,” Jason insists. “And it’s better it happens now than let him mope about it for the rest of his life. At least this way he can put an effort into findin’ someone who actually cares.” Kori tilts her head to one side and presses her lips together. “I mean, it’s not like I want the kid dead anymore, but I’m not lookin’ to make friends or family or whatever with him. And at the end of the day, he’s a decent person and I’m not, so there’s that, too.”

Jason ruins everything he touches—case point, the soulmate he’s already tried (and temporarily succeeded) to kill.

“It sounds as if you already care more about the mate of your soul than you wish to admit,” Kori remarks.

“He’s not my mate.”

“No, not with that attitude.”

“You think I have an attitude? Because I don’t want anything controllin’ my actions or my destiny? The idea isn’t supposed to bother me?”

“I did not say that. But you are looking at the whole thing from just the one angle.”

“You’re tellin’ me it doesn’t bother you?”

“It does not. But I am not you, and matters of the soul are a subjective issue,” she says and leans forward. “You always have a choice, Jason. There are many who have been linked by fate yet choose not to be together. You have seen me and Richard.” Jason’s eyes flick to the creeping pattern of blues and greens that wrap around Kori’s wrist. “Xhal may have decreed we be together, but we decided it was best not to. We have different values, different understandings of the world and relationship—and we both have deep commitments outside of ourselves. That is why I believe the universe ensured he also has Barbara.” She smiles, gentle but sad. “We choose to be mates of the soul from a distance. And I am content with this. It gives me…freedom, in a way. But that decision was made after a long bit of thought and much discussion. Not because we disliked the notion of fate.”

“That doesn’t mean I need to do the same,” Jason points out, a little stiffly.

“No. It does not. But whatever you feel, you and Timothy have a bond. And you are knowingly cutting it off without giving it a chance, something which no doubt does him harm.”

“Not as much as it would if I were around him.”

“You do not know that.”

“Uh, yeah, I do.”

“Very well.” Kori’s brow furrows. “I will not argue with someone that has set their mind to something. I have given you my views on the matter, or rather concerning your mate and your own self-worth. Do with them what you will.”

And she strides out of the trailer; Jason sees a burst of flame outside suggesting she’s flown off.

“And what’s your take on this?” he grumbles, glancing at where Roy’s been sitting the whole time, fiddling with what might have been a DVD player once but now more closely resembles a miniature drone.

“Not my circus, not my monkeys,” Roy grunts around a screwdriver in his mouth.

Jason rolls his eyes.

“Although,” his best friend continues, putting down his tools, “don’t you think by avoiding Gotham, you’re pretty much letting the whole soulmate thing decide how you’re living your life? How’s that different from fate or destiny or the Giant Spaghetti Monster?”

Which Jason can’t summon an argument against.

He hates it when Roy makes sense.

It’s another day of procrastinating before he throws up his hands and says, “You both suck and I’m never comin’ to you for anything ever again.”

“Just call ahead next time,” Kori hums. “Stella is teaching me to make carne asada and I will require another test subject.”

“We’ve only needed to get the fire extinguisher twice,” Roy adds, and Kori nods proudly.

“You two disgust me with your domestic bliss,” Jason informs them before he leaves, although seeing them has made him feel somewhat better.

His friends are an excellent example of a successful relationship despite not being soulmates. Kori’s embodiment of joy was the perfect balm to Roy’s garbage pile of a life. Rejected by his soulmate, his addiction, losing Lian…

Actually, now that he thinks about it, Roy’s life only really started on its downward spiral after Jade ghosted him.

There’s something worrying about that knowledge, but Jason doesn’t examine it too closely.

He heads back to Gotham, a little chastised and a little wary, but determined to keep giving fate or Xhal or whoever the finger. If anyone asks (and no one does), he’s not back to the city because of Tim, but because he still hasn’t figured out who put the contract out on Johnny Lino.

It’s nagging at him more than the death of one of his informants usually does. The trail went cold almost immediately, nothing beyond the traces of a sniper in the opposite building. He’s calling it a coincidence for now, although he’s mentally earmarked it for potential problems in the future if anything else like this happens.

Maybe Johnny just got too big for his britches and pissed off the wrong mobster. One with access to the quality hitmen he couldn’t afford.

Two nights later, when he stops into a club that’s the front to a high stakes illegal poker game, he decides it’s no longer a potential problem, but an imminent right-the-fuck-now problem.

He’s there to collect his percentage from a few of the guys around the table, but once the door closes behind him, he’s suddenly getting ambushed by a table for people with knives and no qualms about dying.

Jason has never liked killing people; it’s something that occasionally has to be done, in the same way a cop sometimes has to pull his service weapon. Certain people in particular—serial rapists and pedophiles and the Joker—are part of that ‘it needs to be done’ category. Thugs like this are just small-time losers with bad judgment, so he’s not really aiming to kill any of them.

Immobilizing shots and the like.

Which is why he’s a bit concerned when he goes to interrogate the bastards about what’s going on, and the guy he reaches for suddenly starts foaming at the mouth, eyes rolling back in his head.

“What the fuck?” Jason jerks backward, glancing at all the rest and finding that they, too, are now convulsing and twitching as the life leaves their bodies.

Cyanide, he realizes when he leans close to his guy’s mouth and detects the smell of almonds. Again, I say, ‘what the fuck’?

It’s the second time a visit to an underling has resulted in death.

Something’s going on in his house, and he doesn’t like it. Maybe the trip to Florida wasn’t a good idea just now; he needs information, and he needs it now.

Except, when he canvasses the streets between Park Row and Byron, he discovers quickly that his people aren’t talking. The girls that are usually so chatty cross quickly to the other side of the streets, the hustlers on the corners are suddenly all on breaks, and the bodega clerks simply beg him to leave their shops, they have kids, you know?

The only one that will talk to him is Rhonda, one of the prostitutes that has been there longer than the rest. She’s a raw-boned woman with leathery skin and bleached, teased blond curls; once, a john tried to act out a rape-murder fantasy on her and she tasered him in the nuts until they burned off.

He’s not sure how much of that’s true, but if anyone could pull that off, it’s Rhonda.

“Someone put a price on your head, baby,” she informs him when he tracks her down, taking a long drag of a menthol cigarette. “Someone scarier than you.”

“Not possible,” he replies, trying to inject some of his usual cockiness into the words.

“There’s always someone scarier,” she informs him gravely. “Lotsa girls and runners gone to the new player. They says he’s gonna protect us better than Red Hood ever did, offer us a bigger take. More of our money in our pockets. Even gonna keep the kids safe better than you could.”

“Which you don’t believe, or you’d be jumping that bandwagon.”

“I believe what I sees, and I ain’t seen this guy,” she replies. “But he did send those Pike bastards outta here, runnin’ with their tails between their legs. Last I heard, they got picked up by one of the Bats before they set much on fire.”

“Which Bat?”

“Red Robin, I think.”

I guess I owe him for taking care of that particular headache.

“He’s pretty decent for a mask,” she adds. “Always comes down here when you ain’t been seen for a few days. He a bit softer—never leaves anyone crippled—but the alley stays safe when he comes by.”

Jason scowls inside his helmet. He didn’t come here to talk about his replacement.

“What do you know about this new guy, then?” he asks, redirecting the conversation back to his current problem. “The one trying to move in on my turf, not the wannabe Bat.”

“Oh, no, honey, that’s all I’m givin’ you. Anyone hears I told you even that and I’m in trouble. But I hear you ain’t the only one having troubles with him. Penguin’s stepped up his muscle a lot lately.”

“I guess that means I’m going clubbin’,” Jason says, and hands over a few hundreds. It’s more than the information she gave him is worth, but she’s got a kid to feed. “Take a night or two off, Rhonda. Could be a hard few days.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” she replies and pockets the money, slinking into the shadows.

The next stop on his list that night is the Iceberg Lounge. As usual, Penguin doesn’t intend to be helpful in the beginning.

“I assure you I have heard nothing of this newest player,” he croaks after Jason goes through the obligatory routine of threats and a show of violence. “But then, a good portion of my clientele has absconded to the Hungry Ghost these past weeks.”

“The what?”

“A new club—little more than the front for a brothel. But rife with rumors and scandal.” He smiles his oily little smile, the one that Jason’s broken more than once since he was thirteen and has to fight down the urge to do again now.

“It’s not like you to be so calm about this. You’re usually more of a control freak over the information game.”

“The wheel never stops turning, Hood. There’s a reason I’ve been around longer than anyone else in this business. It’s knowing the proper time to stand and fight…and the proper time to move out of the line of fire. I will still be here when the dust settles.” The man grins wide, showing yellowed teeth. “But from what I hear, you might not be.”

“That a threat?” Jason growls, hand moving to his holster.

“An observation. And don’t look like that, do you really think I’d dirty my hands on someone like you?” Penguin sniffs. “I am remaining Switzerland on this issue.”

“Switzerland, huh? So armed neutrality?”

“Indeed.”

His cold eyes following Jason as he takes his leave—and knocks out a few bodyguards that try to make a move on him as he goes.

“What the fuck?” he asks for the third time in as many days, absently rubbing the back of his left wrist. “How does Penguin not even know what’s going on?”

“Since he’s trying to stay alive,” a voice replies, and Jason almost—almost—jumps when he notices the shadow leaning over a nearby fire-escape. Red Robin materializes fully into the light but remains a conspicuous distance away from Jason. “I didn’t know you were back in town.”

Tim’s tone is careful.

“I didn’t exactly put it on MySpace.”

“MySpace hasn’t been around since 2009.”

“Yeah, well, I was dead that year, so sue me for not knowin’ that.”

He expects a reprimand or a bit of tooth-grinding like he always gets when he makes oblique jokes about his death. But Tim just shrugs. Which seems…off, somehow.

“A week ago, all the major players were sent packages,” Tim informs him, going back to the subject at hand. “Heads, hands, and hearts of their top lieutenants, and a warning to wait for orders from the new boss in Gotham.”

“So basically, someone took my schtick and went the extra mile,” Jason suggests.

And is trying to edge me out of my own business.

“B is monitoring the situation. It hasn’t spilled into the civilian sphere yet, so he hasn’t deemed it an immediate threat.”

“Of fuckin’ course not, it’s not his head the new guy wants on a pike!” Jason growls, somewhat irritated by this, but also a bit surprised. Bruce wouldn’t be leaving the matter alone if he thought Jason was in any actual danger; maybe, for once, he understands Jason can handle it.

Doesn’t explain why the kid’s here tonight, though.

“So what are you doing here?”

There’s a slight squeak of leather as Tim shrugs. “Protection detail. We’ve all been assigned to keep an eye out if whoever this is makes a move on one of the bigger names. I’m on Penguin tonight.”

“Capes guardin’ criminals,” Jason snorts. “The irony of that never gets old.

Tim doesn’t answer. No witty rejoinder, no impassioned defense of Batman’s credo.

“Still, at least you’re doing something,” Jason allows, somewhat grudging. “And you’ve been busy with the Pikes, from what I hear. I was savin’ them for a rainy day, but I guess it’s a headache I don’t have to worry about now.”

He expects Tim to display some kind of reaction to that, even if it is dark sarcasm.

“It’s my job,” he says instead, in a way that makes Jason frown. But not as much as he does when Tim shoots a grapple line and takes off without another word.

Well, that was weird. But…okay? I guess?

Tim didn’t mention anything about their soulmarks; didn’t even bother bringing it up. Clearly, he took Jason’s message to heart and is trying to be professional. Which is also good. Not a lot of people can handle rejection with any sense of maturity.

A little cold, but it’s Tim. He’s not as emotive as Dick is, anyway.

Jason puts it out of his mind, ignores that tiny flash of wrong that crops of when he thinks about the younger man’s behavior. Which doesn’t happen all that often, since he’s too busy running down his list of contacts trying to find out who exactly the new player is in Gotham.

In theory, he could go to the other Bats for information—could go to Oracle, if he butters her up a bit. She still has a thing for cinnamon buns from that place on 4th, it wouldn’t even be out of his way…

But he’s not really keen on talking to any of them right now, and not to put too fine a point on it, this is his business. It’s bad enough they’re even on the periphery of the case already.

⁂

Two days later, tracking a snitch that’s been avoiding him causes him to stumble upon a weapons deal going down in Tricorner. No local colors, but from the gear Jason calls mercenaries.

Red Robin’s in the middle of it, outnumbered by a lot and outgunned by more, and Jason throws himself into the fight without thinking too much about it. It’s what anyone in the Family does, after all, no need to ascribe any meaning to it.

Red grunts an acknowledgment—that he sees Jason and won’t accidentally break his jaw with his bō—and they settle into their usual fight pattern. Jason’s always found this all too easy—there’s something about fighting back to back with another Bat that’s just instinctive, whether it’s Dick or Damian or even Bruce.

But with Tim, it’s always been more than that. They work together like gears in a clock.

He always shied away from attributing that to their soul bond, because that would mean having to acknowledge it. Better to think it was because Tim obsessively stalked Jason when he was Robin and that Jason learned everything he could about his replacement’s style when he and Talia were planning his big return to Gotham.

But it’s out there now, isn’t it? They both know, it’s not a secret.

Just like Jason knows after several minutes that there’s something still off about Red.

Half his attention on his own fight with his own portion of the goons, Jason can still observe the other vigilante’s movements. Red is telegraphing his moves more. Nothing these brainless thugs would notice, but someone with Bat and League training could spot from a mile away. There’s a languidness in his movements like he’s not entirely present in the moment, and a lack of care in his attacks.

Jason watches as Tim takes a running jump, kneeing one thug in the chest and knocking him to the floor, then using him as a steppingstone—steps down harder than usual, dislocates the shoulder—twists and grabs the next nearest thug by the arm. Holding him, he hobbles him in the knee, then follows up with a kick to the head.

As the bullets fly, Tim tucks and rolls between two more assailants, sweeping the feet out from beneath the third, who stumbles, allowing Tim to weave beneath his outstretched arm and the gun he has pointed at him. Bowing his back into him, Tim tries to go for an elbow to the solar plexus, but the guy is shooting now even as he struggles with Tim.

Usually, he’d be attempting to ensure those shots remain nonlethal, but this time he doesn’t seem concerned with it. It’s by sheer chance that several of the slugs only hit the fourth guy in the shoulders, at points that Jason dimly recognizes as close to fatal.

Tim’s assailant is still shooting, they’re still struggling, and even as Tim twists and tries to get it out of his hands, bullets nearly hit Jason as he’s in the process of clotheslining his own opponent.

“The hell, Replacement?” he snaps as he ducks the wild spray of gunfire.

Tim ignores him but has apparently lost patience. He digs a birdarang out of his bandolier, slamming it into the meaty part of his opponent’s leg. There’s a shriek of pain and the guy crumples around the wound, then Tim whirls around and brings him down hard on the floor. As the fifth man comes at him, Tim breaks his nose and shoves him toward the sixth man, who he kicks in the chest, then backhands the last guy, using him as leverage to snap a kick at his buddy.

The guy goes flying backward, and Tim throws the final thug down on the floor, smacking him face-first against the hard pavement with enough force that blood pools around his head.

It’s quick, efficient, and merciless, and if it were anyone else the sheer beauty of the takedown would impress Jason.

Except, this is not the way Red Robin fights. Tim is always efficient, yes, but there’s a certain amount of force he always holds back. No matter how quick and brutal the fight, he takes the extra effort to avoid critical injuries.

That wasn’t there tonight; hell, he almost got Jason shot.

“What’s with you?” Jason demands when they are surrounded by feebly twitching bodies and Tim is calling in the GCPD to deal with the remaining contraband.

“Nothing you need to care about,” is the mild reply.

“I fuckin’ care if it gets me killed!”

“Then maybe you’re not as good as you think you are.”

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

The tone isn’t the dry, snarky confidence Red Robin usually uses to deliver a line like that. It’s robotic and toneless and weary. Jason only remembers him sounding like that after Batman’s supposed death, when no one believed him about Bruce still being alive.

Wait. Did something happen while I was away?

“Christ, kid, who died while I was gone?” he demands.

“If we’re done here, I have a report to write,” Tim replies without answering the question, and is already walking away.

“Yeah, fine! You do that!” Jason shouts after him. It’s not like he actually cares for the answer.

And yet…

The whole thing bothers him.

Kid’s going to get himself killed, and it’s not even something I can blame Bruce for.

Mostly because he’s almost certain he has something to do with Tim’s mood. He might have overestimated Tim’s ability to handle rejection by his soulmate.

Which is disappointing, because of all the teenaged clichés he expected the younger man to fall prey to, giving up on himself the first time he faces rejection?

Typical rich boy. Got everything handed to him, so when someone tells him ‘no’, he has an existential crisis. Well, whatever. Screw him. It’s none of my business.

Though that assertion is easier said than stood by.

⁂

The next morning, Jason is still feeling uneasy about the whole thing. He didn’t sleep well, just tossed and turned for four hours before he gave up and went a few rounds with his punching bag. He decides to calm himself down another way and heads for the café he sometimes frequents that does tea almost as well as Alfred’s.

The place looks like a bar, but instead of alcoholic beverages, there are exotic teas and fancy cold drinks on display. It’s early enough in the day there aren’t more than two or three other patrons. Usually he comes in later when it’s packed and bustling and easy to disappear into the crowd; today, he appreciates the silence.

In the back corner, a television is on, broadcasting the morning news. The screen switches to a conference and, of course, it’s Tim fucking Drake front and center. Talking up something to do with his Neon Knights thing.

And it looks like Vicki’s up to her shit again.

The intrepid thorn in the collective side of the Family is needling Tim about his personal life. He’s deflects everything with his usual smile until Vale brings up Tam Fox.

Tim’s face is always so composed when speaking to the press, his smile rivaling Brucie or maybe the Mona Lisa for secretiveness. But as Vale’s questions veer toward the subject of soulmates—and Tim’s apparent lack thereof—it’s as if a thundercloud has taken residence on the teen’s face.

When Vale ignores Tim’s third polite side-step of her questioning, he jerks as if a physical snap takes place inside him.

“The last time I checked, this conference is about increasing funding for underprivileged students, not about my personal life,” he says, tone frigid. “And in case your many years of reporting haven’t drilled it into your head, no comment means no comment. If that continues to confuse you, maybe I should replace it with ‘fuck off’.”

The TV censors bleep it out, but you don’t have to be a lipreader to know it’s what he said. As the press clamor, Tim then stalks out of frame, which—

Shit.

Jason is both impressed—because even he never managed to do that when he had to deal with the press as a kid—and disquieted. Because Tim Drake doesn’t lose control like that, not least of all where the public might see it.

What the hell.

Jason heads back to his current safe house, wondering if maybe this might be something he should tell someone about. He doesn’t have to get touchy-feely about it, but he might drop a hint or two to Dick, or to Alfie, or someone who gives a shit about Tim.

They can have, I dunno, some kind of intervention or whatever white hats like they do in situations like this.

All thoughts of that vanish, however, when he turns the corner and notices a crowd gathered outside the building where he’s been staying. Large plumes of smoke are billowing above it, and there are a firetruck and two police squad cars parked out front.

What the…?

Jason hurries over and stares up, dumbstruck, to see a chunk of the edifice missing.

The spot where his bolthole used to be.

Someone firebombed the place.

Murmurs rise up all around him.

“I heard the guy living there was cooking meth, and it blew up.”

“Nah, there was a terrorist holed up in there. Probably didn’t set the timer on his bomb properly.”

“This fucking neighborhood.”

“I know, right?”

But Jason barely synthesizes the information, so fixated on one thing.

Someone knows.

Maybe they don’t know about him—he’s never come out of here without either a mask on or a hoodie or hat—but someone must have seen Red Hood come to this place. He’s swept for bugs and cameras, so there’s no way they’ve got a visual on him, but somehow they knew that was his apartment.

It’s too precise.

Which means his other places might be compromised, too.

Jason turns and walks away from the building, thoughts racing.

He wonders furiously about who it could be, who knows about his boltholes. Roy and Kori, obviously; he told them in case anything ever happens to him or if he doesn’t contact them for a while. He’s got a list of Roy’s in Star City and the tropical hideaways Kori’s come to enjoy over the years. They all call it insurance, but it’s a way of checking up on each other.

He could see the Joker figuring it out, but the gradually escalating attacks on Red Hood are too subtle for that maniac. Jason doubts they’ve seen the end of him since he made his last disappearing act, but this isn’t him. The clown likes an audience, likes to be noticed. These attacks are being done from the shadows and required a lot of planning.

Could be Talia, since he’s sure she’s been keeping tabs on him even long after they parted ways. She’d see it as leverage, as protecting an investment even if it didn’t give her the returns she expected.

And the Bats, of course, but none of them is the type to send a message with explosives, even when they’re all at odds.

It looks like Jason will have to lie low for a bit, watch his territory from the shadows. Deep surveillance.

He heads for his apartment in Crime Alley, which should be safe enough; he never goes anywhere near it when in uniform. Jason can regroup from there, remote-access surveillance from the moment before the safe house was bombed, check on the other boltholes from afar and—

And run straight into Tim Drake.

The kid’s bundled into a winter coat, but it hangs open, revealing the clothes he was wearing during his news conference meltdown. He’s missing the suit jacket, and his tie is loose under the collar of his shirt, carrying a plastic bag from the bodega down the street. Jason can see what looks like a week’s worth of ramen and TV dinners through the flimsy plastic.

All of which only serves to magnify that expression of absolute defeat on his face. That shifts into careful blankness when he recognizes Jason heading toward him.

The sight of him is the cherry on the top of Jason’s already shitty day.

“No,” he snaps, stalking forward and shoving a finger at Tim. “Fuck you. I’ve got enough of my own shit going on, I don’t have time to deal with your…all of this.” He gestures at the remains of Tim’s billionaire playboy costume. “What the hell are you even doin’ here, anyway?”

Tim sighs, weary. “I live here. Like…a block away.”

And it’s a measure of how messed up this new player in town has Jason that he actually forgot that tidbit. It makes him angrier to have it pointed out to him.

“Of fucking’ course you do! You’re everywhere else, why not my neck of the woods now, too?”

“I’ve lived here for a year and you never said anything,” Tim points out.

“Yeah, well, I never ran into you before, did I?”

He doesn’t add that that was before their whole soulmates thing got yanked out in the open.

“Being off-planet helps with that, I always figured,” Tim says blandly, and shoulders past Jason with all the strength of a sleepwalker.

Which just rubs Jason the wrong way.

He feels like he’s being dismissed, feels guilt that he doesn’t want to be feeling, and is still raring for a fight. Jason snaps his hand out and roughly pulls the other man around to face him; he expects a fist to block him, or for Tim to shove him off. Instead, he simply sways a bit on his feet like he’s trying to find balance.

Wrong, wrong, wrong!

“What the hell is your problem, Drake? Don’t tell me you’re sulkin’ about the soulmate thing? Is this the reason for the lame-ass robot impression you’ve been doin’ lately?”

Tim’s expression doesn’t change. “I honestly haven’t had the time to think about it. There’s a lot of work to keep me busy.”

“Right, forgot, you’ve got to be the perfect clone of B to get him to notice you. Guess that tanked today, huh? Newsflash, kid, you weren’t the first to be replaced, and I’m bettin’ you won’t be the last. Go get a life.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” Tim replies vaguely. “It would be easier to do if you stayed away, though.”

“Yeah, well, my life would have been a lot easier if you didn’t exist!”

There’s a breath of heavy silence in the wake of that sentence.

Jason’s fury fizzles out like a candle doused in water the minute the syllables pass his lips. Right away, he wants to take it back, because of the way Tim nods, his expression slamming into a wall of resignation that gives Jason an uneasy feeling at the back of his neck and a pit in his gut.

He backtracks. “Look, that’s not what I—”

Whatever convoluted explanation he was going to dredge up is lost, because at that moment two things happen near simultaneously: a gunshot rips through the ambient noise of the night, and Tim jerks forward, suddenly in Jason’s space, shoving him to one side.

Blood sprays across Jason’s face, and there’s a searing hot pain on the side of his neck, that experience tells him is a bullet.

Just like experience tells him the kid now slumped in his arms, eyes wide and still trapped in that awful blank stare took the brunt of the shot—to his head.

⁂⁂⁂

Next Chapter

This blog isn’t my primary, so my reblogs don’t show up very well. As such, please reblog the fic, otherwise not a lot of people are going to see it :)

<3 Violet

#jaytimweek2019 #jaytimweek #jaytim #jaytimbingo2019 #fanfic #jaytim fic #batfic #prompt: soulmate #jason todd #tim drake #oswald cobblepot #danger #enemies to lovers #i'll protect you #soulmark tattoo #soulmate aversion #angst #drama #whump

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rememberthattime · 5 years

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Chapter 47. Fiji

I was born on May 13, 1989. I don’t remember much about the day, but from pictures, it looked like a great time. My parents were celebrating, there were balloons, someone brought a children’s Chicago Cubs baseball set.

Today is my 30th birthday, so I’m reflecting … looking back all the way to the very start.

It’s interesting to imagine my mom & dad’s thoughts in that delivery room 30 years ago. They must have been terrified by the responsibility of raising a toddler (I would be), but also excited for their new son’s future. What will he grow up to be? Where will he live? What will he do? Their dreams for me had to be bigger than their 1980’s hair.

In the least dramatic way I can say this: they couldn’t have predicted where I’d end up 30 years later.

Birthdays are important to celebrate, but especially milestone birthdays. This is mainly Chelsay’s influence speaking, but I agree with her: milestone birthdays are ones you’ll always remember. 15 years from now, we’ll think back and ask: “What did we do for your 30th birthday?” ... I won’t let that be an ordinary memory. Life is busy though, so it’s tough to carve out a day for festivities, let alone plan them. Even a month ago, Chelsay and I didn’t know how we’d be celebrating. Chels had plans in motion, but my work complicated things by scheduling meetings in Atlanta the week before. My trip back to Sydney would require 24 hours of flights, so would we still be up for a big celebration? The answer is Yes. I’m not 70, and I just said milestone birthdays were important, so we’re making this happen. Work would pay for me to get from ATL back to SYD via any route, so Chels and I started looking for convenient connecting destinations. Hong Kong, Tokyo, Patagonia, and Hawaii were all considered, but in the end, we found the perfect blend of celebration, relaxation, adventure, and convenient flights in Fiji. Fiji is a county made up of 330 islands, and each island chain has its own unique characteristics. Viti Levu is the main island and home to Nadi Airport, but most tourists don’t stay here. Near Viti Levu are the Mamanucas, small sandy dots amongst the expansive blue. The Mamanucas are stunning, but they’re typically more resort-y and popular with nearby Aussies & Kiwis. Then there are the Yasawas, where Chelsay and I chose to stay. The Yasawas are further from the mainland, and their remoteness means their less touristy.

This is a double-edged sword though, because less tourists means there’s less tourist infrastructre, so finding a comfortable option would take some research. We eventually decided on Paradise Cove, which perfectly balanced vacation comforts (comfy bed, outdoor shower, and excellent food, which can’t be understated on a remote island) with a sense of wild adventure (fewer guests, great snorkelling, and hiking paths around the large island).

I nailed my meetings in Atlanta, so my birthday weekend was off to a good start even before boarding the plane. For the next 24 hours of flights, I had nothing to worry about - just enjoying a few movies and catching up on sleep. Chelsay and I met up in the Nadi Airport after extremely disproportionate flight times (hers was only 4 hours), and caught a ferry to Paradise Cove. Seaplanes were an option, but they were 5x the price and this wasn’t our honeymoon. The other advantage of the ferry is that it allowed us to see the different Fijian islands up close. Viti Levu and the Mamanucas were very nice, but Chelsay and I knew we’d made the right choice as we arrived in the less crowded Yasawas.

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We were in heaven as we stepped onto the sandy beaches of Paradise Cove. A jungle of palm trees lined the beach, at first hiding the resort before eventually revealing a dream island getaway: shaded cabanas, pool-side lounge chairs, and a bar concocting frozen, fruity treats.

The pineapple on top of this pina colada was that Chelsay told the resort it was both of our birthdays, so they upgraded our villa and outfitted it with balloons and welcome drinks. As birthday surprises go, drinks on a beach in Fiji was pretty good.

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After drinks on the beach, scuba diving wasn’t really an option, so we decided to snorkel in Paradise Cove’s house reef. I was really surprised by its color. It was just last week that I wrote about the scale of the Great Barrier Reef... but out in the middle of the Pacific, Fiji’s immense soft coral, highlighter vibrancy, and sea life abundance were incredible.

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Now, it was inevitable that jet lag would catch up to me. Atlanta is 16 hours behind Fiji, and I was mentally nearing midnight. Chelsay was also dealing with severe time zone change (2 hours), so she was equally down for a nap. We gave ourselves 90 minutes but would wake up well before our 6:30 dinner. Apparently we woke up to the alarm at 5:30... I don’t remember. I guess I turned it off and only woke up once Chelsay checked her phone. 6:20. Woof. I say all this only to give you an idea of the mental state I was in over dinner. It was similar to that infamous Innsbruck dinner, where Chelsay and I giggled through our whole meal in a tired haze. After our mains, I asked Chelsay if it was time to call it a night... Despite having sour straws in the room, she insisted we stay at the restaurant for dessert. “Alright, well if we’re going to be here awhile, I need some extra bug spray.” I stumbled back to the room and, as I was re-applying, I heard singing in the distance. “Must be the ‘Kava Social’ by the fire pit,” I thought. ...These resorts always put on a show. Still in a sleepy haze, I leisurely made my way back to Chelsay. As I got closer though, I realized the singing wasn’t coming from the fire pit… it was coming from the restaurant. I turned the corner and could see they were surrounding Chelsay and I’s table... and Chelsay had her hands clasped over her mouth... and they weren’t making eye contact with her... and they had a cake. OH NO! They’d been singing this whole time for me!!!! Ahhhhh-I rushed back to the table, face bright red, and started clapping along as they sang a Fijian happy birthday song. I don’t know what they sang actually... it could’ve been the alphabet. I just tried to focus on Chelsay and not on the fact that the song had been going for at least three minutes. I thought to myself, “Chelsay must be so embarrassed!” And then I thought, “Oh no everyone thinks I was taking a shit!” The song finally wrapped up, and the waiters were laughing with Chelsay and I. They accusingly pointed out that it was the longest they’ve ever had to sing happy birthday… “Guys, I swear, I was putting on more bug spray!” Luckily a nearby couple caught the awkwardness of camera.

The next morning, Chelsay and I had scheduled back-to-back dives. We’ve been diving quite a bit recently, but it was still fun to float around the bottom of the ocean. Much like the local humans, Fijian fish seemed incredible friendly: the sea life was very comfortable with divers, staring back at Chelsay and I from only a few inches away.

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After our dives, Chels and I took a 1.5 hour hike around the island, stopping at a secluded beach for private snorkelling. Along the hike, the resort had set up a few small exercise stations. One station was a tire flip... like what NFL prospects train with. This is probably why all the Polynesian players are so big. Anyway, Chelsay challenged me to flip it and I did so without difficulty. It must not have looked hard, because Chelsay confidently stepped up to try it herself. She bent down, grabbed the tire, lifted from her legs for less than one millisecond, and walked away with nothing but a “Nope.”

At dinner that night, first of all, there were no birthday song surprises. Second, we had phenomenal steak with a spread of beetroot, pea, and garlic purée. It was exceptional, as was every meal we ate at Paradise Cove. This can’t be overstated. I mentioned earlier that food in many Yasawan islands is poor, often limited to rice and fries. These resorts just aren’t prepared to meet all vacation comforts... Paradise Cove was ready though. Over our three days, we enjoyed tasty local kokoda, beef lettuce wraps, coconut crusted chicken, and their many fresh catches of the day.

The next morning, Chelsay and I joined a snorkel excursion through a nearby island channel. In Fiji, these channels serve as a funnel for pods of manta rays, which are probably my favorite non-dog animal. See, ever since our failed hunt for mantas in the Maldives, I’ve had an appreciation for how hard they are to find. Even though we’ve since seen entire pods of mantas, I’ll always jump at the slightest chance to see another. Our boat between the two islands, and the guide jumped in the water. He wore a weight belt so that he could sink down where the mantas swim, which I only mention because I want to remember how easily he descended 10 meters (30 feet), sitting in the dark blue for 2 minutes before resurfacing. This guy is a fish. On the other hand, Chelsay had a less graceful descent. When we scuba dived the day before, we exited the boat by sitting on the ledge, tanks over the water, and just falling backwards. The weight of the tank would naturally fall into the water and 360-degree flip you back to the surface. When snorkelling though, you don’t have the weight of the tank. Chelsay threw herself back and entered the water, but was too buoyant to complete a flip. She’d contoured herself into an arch, with her belly sticking out of the water and fins frantically trying to rotate over. She probably scared the mantas away. It took about 30 minutes of tense anticipation, but while staring down at the blue abyss, we heard the guide yell, “Manta!” Chelsay and I swam over quickly to take in the majestic giant. At around 3 meters wide, this female manta was bigger than me, yet swam with such gentle grace. Its grace is deceptive though, because it’s actually still moving quickly - between our hunt and subsequent chase, I probably swam 3 km that morning.

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Chels and I were tired when we got back to Paradise Cove, but it was our last day so we decided to snorkel the house reef one more time. It was cool to see the soft coral again, but we were pooped. I actually had to tow Chelsay back: you know, when I swim in front and my wife just holds onto my foot.

As I was towing her, we passed over a shallow part of the reef but I kept powering along. Suddenly, Chelsay let go of my foot and started slapping the water. I stopped in my tracks, unsure what she was freaking out about. She swam off, so I followed, and it wasn’t until we’d gotten to shore that she told me what it was: apparently a venomous white-banded sea snake popped out and launched within 1.5 ft of me. That was enough sea life for this trip, so we spent the rest of the day on the resort’s inflated jungle gym. We laughed, played around, and attempted backflips (key word: attempted). Just a reminder that I’d turned 30 a few days before.

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That note actually transitions well into my conclusion…

A lot of people get anxious about their 30th birthday. It isn’t a vitality thing - too early for that - but the anxiety comes more from gauging where you are vs where you thought you’d be. Life isn’t a checklist, but it’s natural to have expectations for when you turn 30, 40, etc. Well, I’m writing this from my villa patio in Fiji, so I’m nailing the “Where you are” part. To answer that question less literally though, I’ll instead consider “Where I am” against Chelsay and I’s life motto, something we wrote in our wedding vows: “We’ll never let age get in the way of our youth.” This is perfect motto for age-related milestones because youth isn’t a concept tied to age. It isn’t chapter in your life that just fades away. It’s a mindset, and it’s one you can measure whether you’re 5, 20, 30, 40, or 80. To be youthful is to be energetic, playful, and optimistic. Now I’m technically 30, but this milestone age doesn’t bother me. “Where I am” is energetic enough to swim with Mantas, playful enough to laugh at awkward cake situations and splash around on an inflatable jungle gym, and optimistic enough to make a celebratory Fiji weekend happen despite all of life’s complexities. I’m not worried about turning 30, because after the past weekend, I know I’m as youthful as I’ve ever been.

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e350tb · 6 years

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Steven Universe: Ruby Stars - Chapter Eight

(Special thanks to @real-fakedoors for proofreading this!)

Red Shift

Sadie stood in an enormous teal plane, surrounded on all sides by inky darkness. It swirled and rippling like a raging sea, and looking into it made her hair stand on end. She felt cold, but there was also a strange feeling of detachment - as if she was there, but she wasn't actually there.

She walked forward, travelling into the darkness for some time, but the room was so expansive and featureless that she felt like she wasn't moving at all.

"Hello?" she called, "Is anyone there?"

A tired, desperate voice called back from afar.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Sadie!" Sadie called back, "Where are you?"

The words tumbled from her lips before she could ask them to return with their own name, but then, she somehow felt like that question wasn't necessary. She knew who it was, like a fleeting dream beginning to disappear, if she just tried hard enough she might just grasp it...

The floor shook violently, and she fell hard on her back. Disoriented, she climbed to her feet and turned around - and jumped, startled, as she saw a figure that hadn't been there before.

She was blue and wore a dress, and she was suspended in the air by dark, warping cables. They seemed to shift and change orientation every millisecond - they made Sadie sick to look at them. It was as if they were a puppet's strings, shifting at phenomenal speeds to control the figure's every movement.

"Sadie..." the figure croaked.

"Who are you?" asked Sadie, "What's happening?"

The figure croaked out her name.

"Lapis… I'm Lapis… please, help me..."

Suddenly, and violently, Lapis was yanked backwards. For a moment, she reached pitifully for Sadie - then, with a despairing scream, she was pulled back into the swirling darkness. The floor gave way, and Sadie was falling, falling, falling...

Sadie awoke with a start, drenched in sweat.

She rubbed a hand over her forehead, panting. She'd had a lot of weird dreams over the last few weeks - the one in which she'd been a circus performer and Clancy had been the ringmaster had been particularly odd - but this felt different. It felt more visceral, more real - like she could feel the blue marionette's strings dance before her eyes, and Sadie was certain she could never have imagined that sort of desperation on her own.

Shaking her head, Sadie rubbed the lost sleep from her eyes and dismissed the silly illusions. Rubies - she didn’t have dream powers, and Steven hadn't turned up, so it certainly wasn't him. It was just a weird nightmare, nothing more.

She sighed and glanced at the dim illumination of time on the microwave, laying back on the couch. It read 1.05, and she had a sinking feeling that she probably wouldn't get back to sleep tonight.

"Alright, I'm teaching you today," declared Amethyst, "Shapeshifting 101, let's do this."

Behind her, Peridot wheeled up a blackboard.

Sadie stood in the middle of the Sky Arena. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and fluffy white clouds glided gently by. Behind her, Pearl and Steven watched curiously - the former's arms were crossed, and her mouth was set into a deep frown.

"Okay, so, shapeshifting," continued Amethyst, "Every gem can change their shape. Like this."

She glowed brightly and her shape changed. A moment later, a purple copy of Pearl was standing in front of Sadie.

Pearl narrowed her eyes.

"Good afternoon, my student!" exclaimed Amethyst, in an exaggerated impression of her fellow gem, "My name is Pearl. I use a sword, and I'm the most elegant dancer in..."

"If you start twerking, you're walking home!" Thundered Pearl.

Amethyst chuckled.

"Shapeshifting's the best, man," she continued, "It's gotta be the most useful power we have, 'part from maybe fusion. You get the hang of it, and you can become anything..." she turned into a border collie, "... and anyone..." she turned into Connie, "... you want."

"Within reason," added Peridot, "Changing your shape uses energy. That's why you can't just turn yourself into a giant rocket and blast yourself straight into the Diamonds' faces."

"I'm telling you, Peri, it'd totally work," said Amethyst.

"... Sure," grunted Peridot, "Your mass is also an important factor in shapeshifting. If you turn into something bigger than you, it'll take up a lot more energy - and if you transform too much or for too long, you run the risk of… incidents."

"Yeah, one time Steven turned into a ball of cats," chuckled Amethyst.

"And a baby!" Pearl added helpfully, "And one time he nearly died of old age."

Steven winced.

"The point is," said Amethyst, "Shapeshifting is fun and good for you - ugh, I sounded like Pearl there - as long as you're careful with it. Other than that, have fun with it!"

She turned to Peridot, who Sadie noticed had been carrying a CD player under one of her arms. She dropped it and pressed the play button as Amethyst shifted back into Pearl's form.

Loud, bassy music began to play, and Pearl immediately turned pale.

"Alright, watch me break it down," said Amethyst, changing her posture and poise to a more - ahem - suggestive position than would be typical for their Pearl.

"AMETHYST!"

"I'm really sorry you had to see that, Steven," said Pearl.

She still looked haunted, her eyes wide and somewhat unfocused as she scrubbed the dish in the sink - the same one she had been cleaning for ten minutes. Behind her, Sadie and Steven sat at the counter, finishing dinner.

Sadie finished her bowl of instant noodles and turned to Steven, holding up her hand.

"Okay, maybe I can do it this time," she said.

Steven nodded, turning to his friend.

The lesson had taken all day, but by the end of it, Sadie hadn't managed even the smallest bit of shapeshifting. Pearl had told her she wasn't concentrating hard enough - Amethyst had responded that she had been concentrating too much. Their teaching styles had clashed all day, and in the end Garnet had had to come out and break up a nasty argument between them.

"Okay, let's try… lizard fingers," said Steven.

"Lizards?"

"I dunno, I'm just feeling lizards. They're cool, you know?"

Sadie shrugged and nodded. She gazed at her fingers and concentrated, trying to visualize her fingers turning into lizards - part of her marvelled at how strange such a thing was.

She stared and stared, but nothing happened.

Steven, on the other hand, had sprouted a small collection of bluetongue lizards from his fingers. He laughed, rubbing one of their heads with a finger on his other hand.

"No shapeshifting at the table, Steven," said Pearl.

Steven gave Pearl a very scaly thumbs up before dunking his hand in his glass of water. The lizards turned back into fingers.

"I just can't get anything to happen," sighed Sadie.

"Well, Kay could have been an Era-2, like Peridot was," mused Pearl, "I never thought to ask her, myself. Maybe you simply can't?"

"Ooh!" exclaimed Steven, "Maybe you have metal powers instead!"

"No, no, you have fire powers," said Pearl, snapping her fingers, "They probably wouldn't have bothered giving Kay those if she was Era-2..."

Sadie released a low exhale and stood up. She knew Pearl and Steven weren't trying to put her down, but their discussion of what her powers might be had started to feel rather dehumanising.

"I think I need to get some air," she said.

"Oh, of course," nodded Pearl, "Oh, if you come back by eight, Steven and I will be making pancakes!"

"I know it's normally a breakfast food," added Steven, "But Peedee sent me a new pancake mix recipe and I wanna try it!"

"Yeah, I'll remember that," said Sadie absently, walking out the door.

It was early evening - the sun hung low over Beach City, and the sky was a vivid purple-blue. A gentle breeze blew over the beach as Sadie walked down the steps on to it, and despite herself, she couldn't help but smile. She sat down against the side of the temple and closed her eyes.

It had been a long day, and she'd gotten nearly no sleep after the strange nightmare she'd had in the morning. Part of her felt like she could have dozed off there and then - but she couldn't. She wondered if a walk might help - she knew Buck was helping his dad with something at the Big Donut, and decided to head that way.

Her face fell as she thought again about her failed attempts to shapeshift.

"Everyone else seems so good at it," she sighed to herself, "I mean, even Steven can do it, and he's half-human like I am. What am I doing wrong?"

She opened her eyes and gazed up at the clouds.

"Maybe I've just got too much on my mind," she mused, "It's just like what Pearl said - I've gotta clear my brain and focus properly."

She yawned.

"Yeah... just like Pearl..."

Buck Dewey stacked the last box onto the pile and walked out of the back room, finding his father trying (and failing) to open the new automated cash register. He beamed at his son as he approached.

"Bucky, my boy!" he exclaimed, "Can you use your powers of teenage technological wizardry to open this thing? I just can't make hide nor hair out of this..."

Buck wordlessly pressed a red button on the register. With a cheerful ring, the cash tray opened.

"... Ah," said Dewey, "Well, now I know. Thank you, son!"

Buck nodded. He gazed out towards the front window, and saw a figure approaching from the beach. His father saw it too - he gasped.

"The Hot One!" he exclaimed.

He licked his hand and rubbed over the patch of hair on top of his head, perming it back. He then turned to Buck and grinned.

"How do I look, son?" he asked.

"It's never gonna happen, dad," replied Buck.

"I know," sighed the senior Dewey, his shoulders sagging miserably.

The door chimed as it opened, and they both regarded the customer.

Despite what Dewey had thought, this was not Pearl. Her clothing was the wrong colour, and her face looked slightly different. Most strikingly of all, her hair was much yellower than normal.

"Hello Buck, hello ex-Mayor Dewey!"

Sadie's tone seemed much more formal than normal as she approached the counter.

"... Uh... Hi," said Dewey.

"You look a little different today," said Buck, "Little taller."

"Oh, it's probably just a trick of the light!" chuckled Sadie, "This planet's sun can do that! Now, let me see..."

She studied the board intently, rapping her fingers gently against the counter.

"Buck," Dewey hissed under his breath, "This is getting weird, say something..."

"So," said Buck, "How's living with Steven going?"

"Oh, it's been delightful!" exclaimed Sadie, "He's such a wonderful boy, you know? And the Gems have been so helpful - especially Pearl, if I do say so myself..."

"Are… you gonna order anything?" asked Dewey.

"Hmm… no, sorry, I couldn't possibly stomach eating," replied Sadie.

"You probably could," replied Buck, "Let your hair down."

"... Hmm... no, I couldn't, thank you," said Sadie, "Well, both of you have a pleasant evening."

She waved and turned for the door, muttering quietly to herself.

"Letting my hair down... Maybe I should..."

The door chimed as she left. For a long time, Dewey and Buck stood in silence.

"... Aaaare you gonna call Universe?" asked Dewey at last.

"Yep," nodded Buck, taking out his phone.

Greg walked down the boardwalk, talking on the phone with Andy. It was a lovely evening, and his spirits were high; he thought he might check in with Steven when he was done, and perhaps see if Sadie was alright as well.

"...well, good to hear you're doin' okay, even if things are a bit weird," said Andy, "You still on for coffee on Saturday?"

"Sounds great, Andy," nodded Greg, "I'll see you around."

"You too, Greg, stay safe. Bye!"

Greg hung up the phone, tucking it in his pants pocket. He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath and smiled. Yep, this was a just a perfect evening.

"Hey, what up Greg?"

Was that Amethyst?

Greg opened his eyes and turned around.

She looked a bit like Amethyst, certainly, but her hair, skin colour and much of her face exposed her as Sadie. She seemed to have taken on the quartz' form, from the long hair to the style of her outfit.

"Uh... Sadie?" asked Greg uncomfortably, "You practicing shapeshifting or something?"

"Nah, dude, I'm just letting my hair down," replied Sadie, "So, what's going on with you?"

"I... um... I was thinking of visiting Steven," said Greg, scratching the back of his neck, "He sent me a message earlier. Something about pancakes?"

"Yeah, good ol' Ste-man!" laughed Sadie, slapping Greg's back (he winced), "Speaking of pancakes, you know if Peedee's still open? I meant to pick up some eats at the Big Donut, but... eh, I didn't for some reason."

"...I think he is?" replied Greg, "Um... just a quick question, but are you okay? You seem a bit... well... off."

"Oh, come on," grunted Sadie, "First Buck, and now you? Why do you all think I'm acting weird or something? I'm fine, Greg."

"I just think you're a bit... uh..."

"Ugh!" exclaimed Sadie, "What is wrong with people tonight?!"

Greg swallowed.

"Forgot it," Sadie continued, "I'm done with this. I'll come back when you're a little less lame, man."

She stormed off down the boardwalk, muttering angrily to herself.

"... Nobody tells Garnet she's acting weird. That must be nice..."

She turned a corner and was gone.

For a few moments, Greg stared at the place she had been, utterly bewildered. Then he heard a familiar shout, and turned to see Garnet approaching, Steven riding on her shoulders.

"Dad!" Steven called, "Have you seen Sadie?"

"I... think so," replied Greg, "What's going on, Stu-Ball?"

"Buck said Sadie had turned into one of my moms," replied Steven, "And I think he meant Pearl, and it's weird because she couldn't shapeshift earlier and..."

"Pearl?" quizzed Greg, "She looked more like Amethyst when I saw her."

Garnet nodded thoughtfully.

"I have an idea of what might be happening," she said, "Greg, tell me where Sadie went..."

Peedee was packing up the tater tot stand. It had been a busy day - he'd gotten all of ten customers, and was therefore doing a roaring trade. But it had now gone six-thirty, and it was time to close up.

He was just cleaning the ketchup and mustard nozzles when he heard someone approach. He turned to the counter.

"Sorry, I've just..."

A tall figure towered over him. Her hair was a square afro, her eyes concealed behind a reflective visor. For a moment, Peedee thought it was Garnet, but on closer inspection, she had a striking resemblance to Sadie.

"... Closed," finished Peedee, gulping.

Sadie leaned over the counter.

"Give me the bits," she said stoically.

A chill ran up Peedee's spine as he saw himself reflected in her visor.

"... Ah-I-I-I-okay, I think I have some left, let me check!"

He ducked down, frantically checking the fryer for any remaining fry bits.

"Sadie!"

Slowly, Peedee peaked over the counter. Steven, Greg and Garnet were approaching - the latter did not look pleased.

Sadie nodded, emotionless.

"Garnet," she said.

"Sadie, what's happening?" asked Steven, "I mean, you can shapeshift now and that's great, but why are you acting like the Gems?"

"I'm not acting like anything," replied Sadie, "And I am not shapeshifting."

"You haven't even noticed?" quizzed Greg, tilting his head.

Garnet stepped forward.

"Sadie, listen to me," she said, "You need to turn back to your original form."

"I am in my original form," replied Sadie, "I-"

Garnet reach forward and yanked her visor off of her face, staring straight into Sadie's eyes.

Unlike Garnet, Sadie only had two eyes - the third was missing, replaced with a tuft of stray hair. That was not what struck Peedee, however. Looking closely, Sadie's eyes seemed somewhat dull and unfocused, and there were dark bags beneath them. She looked incredibly tired.

"Tell me what time you went to sleep last night," ordered Garnet.

Sadie narrowed her eyes.

"None of you understand," she growled, stepping back, "You all act like I'm acting differently. None of you accept that this is who I am!"

She began to glow, and her form shifted.

"Just accept me for me..."

The glow faded. Sadie was now much shorter, and her hair was styled into a tall, triangular shape. She wore a yellow visor and jumpsuit, with a small diamond on the middle of her chest.

"... The great and lovable Sadie!"

She ran off in the direction of the beach, cackling loudly as she went.

"... What?" said Greg, flatly.

Garnet straightened her visor, nodding.

"I know what's happening," she declared, "I've seen Amethyst do this before."

"Is it a new power?" asked Steven, "Maybe some kind of 'personality shifting?'"

Garnet shook her head.

"It's much simpler than that," she said, "Sadie's conscious mind is shut off, and she is being controlled by her subconscious thoughts and anxieties. Most human experience this periodically, as do gems that choose to sleep. Most of the time, the body is shut off while this happens, but in this case, her subconscious has managed to access control of her body and powers."

Greg and Steven glanced at each other, confused.

"So... what does that mean?" asked Greg.

A hint of an amused smirk crossed Garnet's face.

"She's sleepwalking," she replied.

"Oooooh!" said Steven, "So the way she's acting is like... her subconscious impression of us?"

"Good thing she hasn't done Ronaldo yet," Peedee grunted dryly.

Garnet nodded.

"We need to snap her out of it," she said, "I'm going after her. Follow on in the van."

She bounded off towards the beach, leaving the three humans alone. Peedee leaned on the counter and sent Steven a sympathetic look.

"So, family problems?" he asked.

"Yeah, you start to get used to them," replied Steven.

Night had just about fallen by the time Garnet found Sadie again.

She was pacing back and forth on the sand, a few hundred yards from the temple. She muttered angrily to herself, clenching her fists in a fashion appropriately reminiscent of Peridot - Garnet couldn't quite work out the words until she got closer.

"...stupid Garnet, stupid Greg, stupid Buck, they just don't get it," she growled, "They don't get the value I add to this town and to this planet. They need to appreciate me more..."

"Sadie," said Garnet.

Sadie ignored her, carrying on with her rant.

"... Who cares if I can't shapeshift? It's a waste of valuable energy anyway. No wonder they didn't give that power to Era-2 gems - I'm much more significant and important the way I am..."

"Sadie!"

Sadie stopped and turned to Garnet.

"What?!" she bellowed.

"You need to settle down," replied Garnet, "You're not in control of your actions."

"Not in control of my actions?!" thundered Sadie, "I'll have you know..."

She trailed off.

"... I'll have you... oh, who am I kidding?" she sighed, "I'm not in control."

She fell to her knees, her form glowing and shifting once more.

"I'm never in control."

Garnet's eyes widened behind her visor.

The new form Sadie had taken was tall and lithe, with a sleeveless, flowing dress. She looked deeply forlorn as she stared down at the sand - it was a posture and a form Garnet immediately recognised.

But this was impossible.

Garnet shook her head. She'd think about that later. For now, she had a job to do.

She walked over, sitting down next to Sadie and putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Sadie..."

"I don't even know who I am," said Sadie mournfully, "Mom lied to me, Clancy lied to me - even you lied to me. I thought I was Sadie Miller, but... but that's my dad's name, isn't it?"

"It's still your mother's name," reminded Garnet.

"Do I want mom's name? She knew who my real dad was and she was never gonna tell me!" reminded Sadie, "She denied me part of my identity! All the time I lived with her, I was trapped and I didn't even know it. And everyone tells me I'm still Sadie, but who even is that? Am I Sadie Miller? Sadie Killer? Sadie the Ruby? Am I supposed to be a Crystal Gem or a rock star or a donut girl or what?"

Her voice cracked.

"Just... who am I?"

Garnet rubbed her shoulder calmingly.

"You are you," she replied, "You aren't defined by where you came from or what people think you should be. You are your own person."

She smiled.

"And you are very tired."

She closed her eyes and began to hum softly. In her head, she heard Ruby and Sapphire sing the lyrics.

Take a moment to think of just...

Flexibility, love and trust...

Slowly and gently, Sadie's eyes closed. With one final glow of light, her form shifted back into her normal appearance, and she dozed off against Garnet's shoulder.

They sat there for some time, but eventually the silence was broken by a strange sound.

MAY-OR DE-WEY! MAY-OR DE-WEY!

The tater tot van rumbled down the beach, slowly pulling up in front of Garnet. Greg stopped the van and turned off the engine, and the obnoxious sound was silenced. Despite this, Sadie didn't stir.

"Yeah, sorry, I haven't worked out how to turn that off," said Peedee as he and Steven climbed out the back.

"Garnet!" exclaimed Steven, running over to them, "Did you find Sadie? Did you... aaaawww!"

He beamed, pulling out his camera and snapping a photo of the sleeping Sadie.

Sadie groggily opened her eyes.

She was lying on her side on the couch, buried under a couple of blankets. Cat Steven lay on top of her, snoozing peacefully. Steven, Amethyst, Pearl, Peridot and Greg were gathered around the kitchen counter, a large pile of pancakes next to them. She tried to remember how she'd gotten here - she was sitting on the beach, and then... vague memories of Buck and Peedee?

"Sadie!"

Steven stacked a couple of pancakes onto a plate and ran over to her, putting them down on the coffee table in front of her.

"How'd I get here?" asked Sadie drowsily.

"It's a long story," shrugged Steven, "But you shapeshifted! Also you sleepwalked a bit, but you know..."

"I was sleepwalking?" asked Sadie.

"Yep," nodded Amethyst, "And the moment you stopped concentrating so hard, bam! What did I tell you, P?"

Pearl crossed her arms.

"I still think my advice had merit," she grunted.

"No, Pearl, Amethyst was correct today," replied Peridot, "Maybe you can be correct tomorrow."

Pearl frowned.

Sadie rubbed her head, wincing. It throbbed slightly, and she was having trouble keeping her eyes open.

"How are you feeling?" asked Steven, concerned.

Sadie glanced at the pancakes and smiled wearily.

"...hungry," she said.

She and Steven exchanged grins as she picked up the plate.

Long, long ago, before they had re-met Rose and Pearl, Ruby and Sapphire had spent a winter in a small hideout they'd dug in the ground. Back then, they didn't know that snow was harmless, and had thought they'd needed to take shelter for their own safety. They'd long since learned, but every now and then they came back to this little den - it became a hideaway, and if things became to hectic at the Temple, they could retreat here to get their bearings.

Except the den was no longer in untouched wilderness. Two thousand years ago, an empire that was not unlike Homeworld arrived and built a town. Over the centuries, that town had grown bigger and bigger until it covered the whole landscape. In the past two hundred years, the humans had dug underground too, building a complex transport system to bring themselves closer together.

This was London, and Garnet's den now sat behind an iron door in a tunnel of the 'Circle Line'.

Garnet stood in the small, rocky room, studying a chart she had drawn on the wall long ago. It labelled the four diamonds - White, Blue, Yellow and Pink - with a few scribbles and notes about them and their courts. Pink was crossed out and labelled as shattered - perhaps it was wrong, but Garnet couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction about that.

More important were the big, simple words written under each diamond's name. The idea was simple - each diamond had control over one major concept. This was important, as Kay had come from the enigmatic White Diamond. Few had ever seen her - even Sapphire, who had been high ranking, had never so much as glimpsed this most powerful of being.

She read the chart again, frowning.

Blue Diamond - emotion.

Yellow Diamond - form.

Pink Diamond - life?

White Diamond - mind?

She'd heard rumours back on Homeworld about White's court - about a gem named Seraphinite, about strange methods of mental indoctrination, about how White kept her gems in line.

She hoped, for Sadie's sake, that those rumours weren't true...

#steven universe #ruby stars #sadie miller #lapis lazuli #amethyst #peridot #pearl #buck dewey #mayor dewey #greg universe #andy demayo #garnet #peedee fryman

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belladonnaandulriched · 4 years

Text

the artist | chapter twenty-two

Lucky for us, the virus hadn't returned to full force there in the Northwest at the moment which meant I could return home and sleep in my bed that night. Unfortunately, Joey still couldn't go home and Lars wasn't willing to risk leaving Washington state so as to go back to San Francisco. I didn't think it was fair to either of them given so many people travelled throughout the pandemic just so long as they kept their masks on their faces. At least that was according to Dave, whom I began referring to as “red Dave” to differentiate him from my gardener, whom I referred to as “blond Dave.” Tom also said the same thing, but with a caveat.

“All the times I travelled throughout the pandemic, I probably saw more people not wearing masks than people wearing 'em.”

“Yeah, me, too,” said red Dave, “so I think it's best that, if either of us are to travel, we do it alone in a car, or we do it in stints. Which means it'd be a royal pain in the ass to get back to upstate New York or even some place close by like San Francisco.”

Meanwhile, blond Dave and Stone offered to take me home as part of their trip down to Portland to bring in some new seeds. Before we left for Tacoma, I turned to Joey, Lars, and Chris as the three of them stood before me on the sidewalk with looks of concern on their faces.

“Be safe,” Chris told me as he put his arms around me and kissed the side of my neck. I looked over his shoulder right as Joey's face fell and Lars nibbled his bottom lip and shifted his weight. Caught in between three boys.

“Please be safe,” Chris whispered into my ear.

“I'm going to,” I vowed to him as I turned to Joey and Lars. The former put those long Italian arms around me and I wrapped my arms around that slim little body. As soft and warm as ever. I put my arms around Lars and he rested his chin on my shoulder.

I still had yet to pull The Artist on Chris, I realized as I climbed into the back seat behind Stone. I waved at the three of them but before we could pull away, Joey approached the window to catch my attention. He bowed his head for a look right into my face: stray tendrils of inky black curl caressed over my arm.

“Call me when you get back,” he said in a low voice.

“I will,” I promised him, to which he winked at me. I showed him a smile as I put on my seat belt and my mask. Joey bowed out and blond Dave pulled away from the curb. Red Dave and Tom were back inside of the building so I was met with faint waves behind a pane of glass as we headed off down the freeway.

While it was good to finally return home to Tacoma, and although I was close by, I couldn't help but miss them. They were my friends. And moreover, I had made quite the connection with Joey and Lars. It wasn't that long ago I wondered if there would ever be a soul I could form a deep connection with and walk with together to the very end. Now I had three boys who had fulfilled that wish. For me to love and befriend even in the face of a deadly virus as it returned to pandemic levels.

But at the same time, I couldn't help but feel guilty as I was lying to each of them. I was lying especially to Chris. I hated the fact that I had lied to Chris. I lied right to his face, and yet I wanted to make it right. I wondered if I could do a plan of sorts to break it to him, and do it in a way that was easy on the both of us as blond Dave pulled up to the curb. Like before, we were down the block from my house. Headed our way was a burly guy with a buzzcut walking side by side with a pregnant woman, who was also holding a baby in her arms.

“You guys stay safe, alright?” I told them as I climbed out of the car.

“You, too,” Stone advised me; he lifted his mask from his face to flash me a wink. Blond Dave flashed me the sign of the horns before he pulled away from the curb. I stood back and watched them off in the opposite direction: they were going all the way to Portland, a city I hadn't been to in what felt like forever. I was about to turn back towards my house with the mask on over my face.

“I'll meet you back at the house, honey,” the guy was saying to his wife.

“Okay, pookie pie,” she said, which made my stomach turn a bit. He kissed her and then he stooped down for a kiss on the bump. I watched her cross the street with that baby in her arms and I wondered what was going on there. I returned to the guy who had this intense look upon his face. He looked like a baked ham that had been pulverized with a shovel, like that haircut did not flatter his head at all. The fact he wasn't wearing a mask perturbed me a bit.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked me in a low monotone of a voice.

“Um, sure?”

He towered over me, like a giant among us mortals.

“How can I get a girl like you to go to a show with me once live music comes back into fruition?”

“But, I don't know you,” I told him with a bit of a chuckle. I tried to step past him so as to head back to the house but he stopped me right in my tracks.

“Well, yeah, I know that...” His voice trailed off.

“Do you want me to give you some of my art or something?” I suggested to him off hand.

“If you'd like. Unless you're an art dealer.”

“I'm not an art dealer,” I promised him. “I draw and paint stuff and swoon over boys and that's about it.”

“Good to know. So tell me. What can I do, though?”

“You can start by getting out of my way first,” I commanded as I slipped past him. But he held onto my arm as I was about to get away from him.

“I have a boyfriend!” I pointed out.

“I bet you do,” he sneered.

“I really do,” I insisted as I waved him off. But he was too strong. His fingers hurt: even though the fabric of my jacket, I could feel the calluses on the skin. He was a guitar player.

“Go to live music not make it?” I asked him.

“It's one thing to make it, it's one thing to fake it.” I had no idea what that meant so I tried to get away again. He yanked me in.

“I saw you looking at me,” he sneered.

“I was looking past you,” I corrected him.

“Uh-huh, sure. I always wanna nudge girls like you with my boots.”

“Yeah, but you have a wife, though,” I pointed out.

“She's not my wife,” he said.

“Why'd she call you 'honey', then?”

He didn't reply. All I could think about was how he kissed her and then her big protruding belly.

“Who is she then!” I cried out. He shoved me into the bushes. I held onto my mask. I wasn't going to lose it over this. Not this.

“I'm like a shotgun down your throat,” he growled as he loomed over me. I landed on a web of branches, right on my back. He was bigger and fatter than me, like the possessive flesh fusing behemoth straight out of Stranger Things. Melted people together no matter who they were or if they were dead or alive and grew bigger and stronger in the process. Possessed their minds to bend to his will.

And now he was possessing me and eating me alive. He slammed me to the ground and kept me pinned to the hard surface.

“Scream and you die,” he growled; his breath smelled like an old ashtray that had been used as a toilet at some point. I pinched my eyes closed. I could see him on the back of my eyelids. It hurt and not in the way it hurt me like it did with Chris. He didn't go in with ease like Joey or Lars.

His body was hard and bulky, and I missed the comfort of Chris, the delicate softness of Joey, and the boyish sweetness of Lars.

I popped open my eyes to look at him dead in the face. Broad daylight as he ground away at me. Right into those luminous eyes and the indentation in between his eyebrows. Right at that straight nose. Right at that crooked mouth. Right at that cleft chin.

I wanted to punch him in the face, in that big belly of his, but he had too much of a grip on me.

I knew I was going to remember him for the rest of my life for what he did to me, even as he let me go and I was able to run back home. Lucky for me, I was alone. But unlucky for me, I was alone. Alone with that memory and without anyone to talk to.

Or so I thought.

I picked my phone out of my coat pocket and dialed Joey's number.

Everything was a blur after that. All I recalled was Joey's upstate accent and his gentle voice twisted with concern.

“Hahlly! Hahlly! What happened? Tell me. Tell me everything.”

I sniffled. It was so real and so vivid that it was hard for me to even so much as enunciate the words. It was one thing with him and Chris, but I didn't ask for this with that strange man. I was sincere when I told him I would give him a piece of art as maybe a means of telling him to back off, and he didn't listen to me.

“Hahlly?” Joey's voice broke on the other end.

“I—I was raped,” I whispered to him. There was a gagging sound on the other end and I only knew what that meant.

#the artist #the artist fanfic #the artist chapters #chapter 22 #fanfic #fanfiction #tw blood #also on ao3 #coronapocalypse #corona world order #sci fi writing #writing #fan writing #text #triggering stuff

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moreracquetball · 7 years

Text

the star stuff

Dedicated to my Writing Raffle 2nd Place Winner @easeondown who requested Whizzvin with Whizzer as an astrophysicist.

Summary:

Colliding galaxies

A galactic “car wreck” in which two galaxies pass close enough to gravitationally disrupt each other’s shape. The collision rips streamers of stars from the galaxies, fuels an explosion of star birth, and can ultimately result in both galaxies merging into one.

:: - ::

Gravity

A mutual physical force of nature that causes two bodies to attract each other.

Swishing his cocktail around with the neon pink straw, Whizzer sits daintily at the bar and feigns ignorance to the other man’s trained gaze on him. The straw beats against the rim of the glass pointedly, and he hopes that even from across the room, his admirer will notice that Whizzer’s drink looks awfully empty right now.

But he isn’t expecting much to come of it, really. After all, the man—sat at the very corner of the club, bathed in shadow rather than pink strobe light, positioned rigid and alert—seems more like a watcher than a player. He’s the type that tries to remove himself from the context of his visit here, only wants to sit and watch the men and desperately pretend that he isn’t.

It’s pitiful, sure, but exasperating. And Whizzer’s time is far too valuable to waste playing into some insecure man’s fantasy.

But. Still. There’s something about him that makes Whizzer’s eyes flicker every once in awhile to that darkened corner, exasperated and annoyed but nonetheless—curious.

Whizzer has always been curious. It’s the thing that’s always made him look up at the sky, trying to pin down and assert meaning to celestial bodies that of which that seem to defy mortal understanding. It’s the thing that makes him haunt gay bars and pick up men who are searching for the same understanding, for if they could not find it in the stars or arts or words, at least they could find a scrap of it in each other’s own celestial bodies.

Yes, Whizzer is curious—about the dark, the isolated, the unexplored. And maybe that’s why he keeps looking over at the man, wasting his time, hoping against hope that he isn’t all that he appears to be. That maybe he’s the one tonight that Whizzer can find some semblance of hollow meaning within the crook of his neck or crevice of his body.

Or hell—maybe Whizzer’s just a little drunker than he gives himself credit for.

And just maybe, Whizzer muses to himself as he sees the darkened shadow of the man rise from his chair and walk into the light—heading straight for him, I’m not the only one curious and searching for meaning tonight.

The man is all lithe muscles and sharp angles, but it’s the way that he carries himself—confident, imposing, powerful—that makes him seem bigger than the entire room, that makes Whizzer glad that he looked twice.

He doesn’t bother with coyness or romanticism. He sits down in the seat next to him and asks bluntly, fishing out his wallet in an eyeroll-inducing, grandiose performance, “What’s your poison?”

But Whizzer likes the game of it all, so he gives the man a pointed, slow once-over, enunciating deliberately, “Handsome, devastating men.”

The man doesn’t pause in his motion of slapping a crisp five dollar bill on the table, but Whizzer is close enough to hear his breathing stutter and see his adam’s apple bob. And okay—maybe he is the one for tonight.

Whizzer lets the beat of silence settle and simmer before adding, “And a Manhattan.”

The man orders Whizzer a Manhattan and himself a whiskey (a generic “manly man” drink), but by the way his lips always twist each time he takes a sip, Whizzer supposes that even that choice is just part of the performance.

“I’m Marvin.” The man introduces himself finally, and his voice is only a little choked by the way that Whizzer has shamelessly laid a hand on his inner thigh.

Whizzer directs his hand to go even higher and doesn’t introduce himself until he’d made the man turn bright red, “Whizzer.” And then he asks, “Yours or mine?” He only asks to see his reaction, how Marvin immediately moves his hand away as if Whizzer hasn’t already noticed the tan line of a missing ring on one of his fingers.

Surprising no one, he says, “Yours.”

On the walk to Whizzer’s apartment (it being only a couple blocks away from the seedy, gay bar), Marvin stares unabashedly at the exposed planes of Whizzer’s skin while Whizzer tips his head up to the great beyond. He easily paints depth to the sky, tracing the celestial paths of stars and planets and anomalies. Many of his colleagues think of the sky as a window into the unattainable, but Whizzer has always thought of it as more of a map for uncharted territories not yet explored.

Marvin seems to grow agitated by the lack of attention and touches the crook of Whizzer’s elbow, bringing the man back down to Earth.

“The constellations are really beautiful tonight,” Marvin says knowingly, as if he arranged the stars there himself, “You see the Little Dipper?” He points to it, though he’s paying more attention to Whizzer’s facial expression than the stars themselves.

Because Whizzer just can’t help himself, he corrects him, “The Little Dipper isn’t a constellation.”

Marvin’s smug, eager-to-impress expression falters a little, replaced with defensiveness, “Yes, it is.”

“The Little Dipper is an asterism, which is just a group of stars.” Whizzer tells him, “That asterism is part of a constellation called Ursa Minor.”

Marvin doesn’t seem impressed by Whizzer’s knowledge. Really (and it makes Whizzer want to both laugh and sneer), he seems pathetically threatened by it.

His handsome face sours like a dry lemon, “Those are pretty big words for such a pretty face.” Whizzer debates on telling him but, for all the man’s superiority complex, he wonders if Marvin has even heard of an ‘astrophysicist.’

Instead, he plays coy, “What can I say? I’m a spaceman.”

Marvin continues to look unimpressed, even chuckles a little cruelly, “A spaceman named Whizzer, huh? Come on—Is there anything about you that’s real?”

Finally they get to Whizzer’s apartment complex, and Whizzer crowds him against the door, noticing how Marvin stiffens in fright when Whizzer leans in and kisses him right on the street corner—where anyone could see.

“Well, Baby,” Whizzer doesn’t see the harm in playing the role of dumb whore, if that’s what will help Whizzer get his rocks off quicker, “That’s what you’re here to find out, isn’t it?”

:: - ::

Nadir

A point directly underneath an object or body.

Marvin looms over Whizzer, pins his wrists against the mattress, and thrusts even deeper into him. Whizzer buckles and sighs into Marvin’s mouth, pushes down and chases after him and repeats more more more more.

When they’re finished, Marvin collapses on top of him, his ragged breathing tickling the sensitive skin on Whizzer’s neck. Marvin’s position leaves his naked shoulder vulnerable, so Whizzer bends his head down and bites down. He wildly expects to taste something new—something extraordinary. He imagines the taste of a comet’s carbon or a red giant’s gaseous flames, but all he really gets is the saltiness of sweat.

Marvin, ignorant to Whizzer’s desire for meaning, just laughs it off, pulling teasingly at Whizzer’s hair and muttering, “Dick.”

Without warning or care, Marvin dislodges and collapses beside Whizzer on the bed, messy-haired and red-cheeked and bright-eyed. It’s been months since that first meeting at the bar, but Whizzer hasn’t grown bored of this man. Still transfixed in Marvin’s orbit, Whizzer studies the way his chest moves rhythmically up and down in the dim lighting of his bedroom.

He’s beautiful and devastating, and Whizzer knows a supernova when he sees one but he can’t for the life of him break the gravitational pull of their bodies.

“I’m gonna leave her.” Marvin tells Whizzer, after he gets his breathing back.

Whizzer’s heart stutters, but he keeps casual, playing dumb and indifferent, “Who?”

Marvin glances over and gives him an unamused look, clarifying needlessly, “Trina.”

Trina. Marvin’s wife.

Whizzer knows that Marvin is gauging every twitch of his expression, so he keeps his face carefully blank as he says, “Just make sure you’re doing it for yourself.” Not for me.

“I am doing it for myself,” Marvin assures, threading their fingers together underneath the sheets, “But it’s because of you.”

Whizzer rolls his eyes, trying but failing to suppress a smile, “Always gotta share the blame, don’t you?”

“Always, Spaceman.” Marvin confirms cheekily, squeezing Whizzer’s hand as he leans in and presses their lips together. The kiss is slow, easy, without purpose or means to an end. Whizzer finds the ease and tenderness of the contact addicting in a way that frightens him.

The kisses and gentle touches are over too soon as Marvin breaks away and gives him that same old apologetic look, “It’s late. I have to go.”

Whizzer doesn’t tell him goodbye as Marvin lets himself out of the apartment. Instead, Whizzer stares blankly at the ceiling, tracing mythical cosmic paths and asserting meaning into the cracks and waterstains.

:: - ::

Binary

A system of two stars that revolve around a common center of gravity.

After the routinely tense, quiet charade of a ‘family dinner,’ Marvin and Jason migrate to the den for a meek game of half-hearted chess while Whizzer hangs back in the kitchen and rolls his sleeves up. At the sink, Trina scrubs the dishes with the vigor of a sexually frustrated virgin, and Whizzer momentarily thinks of making a joke of it before he realizes that Trina probably wouldn’t laugh. Worst case, she might even cry, and Whizzer is too tipsy on cheap wine to muster up any sort of genuine empathy and comfort.

Even though he’s done this for months and months—even before the divorce, Trina always seems surprised when he joins her at the sink.

With forced casualness (because he doesn’t think he’ll ever be truly comfortable around her, given their history and shared affiliation with a certain maniac), he reminds her, “It’s my turn to wash. You can dry.” He almost thinks he sees a twitch of a smile on her exhausted face before it settles back to stone.

Their routine is one of silence with sporadic attempts at cordial conversation. It’s comforting in a mind-numbing way that soothes the oncoming headache that these tense meals usually give him.

“I have a date with the psychiatrist tomorrow night.” Trina tells him suddenly, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. He wonders if she’s telling him this to make Marvin jealous (when Whizzer inevitably tells him one way or another) or if she’s still searching for any semblance of approval from any man in her life.

“That’s good,” Whizzer says noncommittally, the news unaffecting him, “Are you gonna screw him?”

Trina flushes at his vulgarity, and it makes him feel a little cruel and powerful.

“Yes. Well, I mean. Probably. Maybe.” Trina busies herself with the plate in her hands, “I don’t know.” Her voice has grown curt and anxious, as if she regrets even bringing it up. And for that reason, Whizzer should let it go.

But he doesn’t. Because honestly? It’s just too fucking funny.

“So, Marvin’s psychiatrist, huh?” Whizzer says, laughing a little, “Do you normally run in such tight circles or do you just really want Marvin to notice that you’ve started dating again?”

“This has nothing to do with Marvin.”

Whizzer narrows his eyes at her, makes a skeptical, derisive noise in the back of his throat, “We both know that that’s bullshit.”

Because nowadays, it seems like everything that they do, they do for Marvin.

But strangely, Whizzer wants her denial to be true. He wants to believe that she’s finally doing something for herself and not for him.

He wants to believe that she’s found a new center of gravity, if only for the fact that it gives him hope that he’ll find a new one soon, too.

:: - ::

Chaos

A distinctive area of broken terrain.

Frustrated, Whizzer crosses out another line of calculations and rakes a hand over his face, causing his cheap, wire-framed glasses to mash against his skin. It’s wrong, wrong, wrong. He messed up somewhere, he knows, but he can’t for the life of him find and correct the error. And now he has to wait another three fucking months before the same pattern co-aligns in the sky—just for some stupid fucking paper that doesn’t even matter at all, that no one except withered up nerds even glance over.

Whizzer distantly notices Marvin hovering in the doorframe of their living room, watching him, but he ignores him. He’s already nursing a migraine from the hours upon hours that he’s worked on this wasted trash of a study; he doesn’t have the energy to suit Marvin’s need for a fight or sex.

But Marvin doesn’t get the hint (or, more likely, he just disregards it), and so he says quietly, “Hey, Spaceman.”

“Leave me alone.” Whizzer says flatly, copying down a string of random numbers so Marvin will think he’s working (as if that will dissuade him when he wants something).

“Come on, tell me,” Marvin wheedles, walking over to stand at the back of the couch and massaging Whizzer’s tense, hunched shoulders, “What’s wrong? You still haven’t discovered a new planet yet?” Whizzer notices that Marvin is being extra sweet and doting today, most certainly due to the hours-long, godawful fight that they’d had last night that left glass shattered and doorframes splintered.

It’s a maddening cycle. Marvin or Whizzer will pick a fight, and it either ends with rough, desperate, hollow sex or an icy, numbing silence that’s getting harder and harder to thaw. Used to, back when this whole thing began, their fights ended with the former, but nowadays, they’re losing everything they’ve built together to frostbite.

“You don’t get it, and I don’t want to explain it to you.” Whizzer says, though the real answer is You don’t get it, and you won’t let me explain it to you.

Because Whizzer could never be as smart or, god forbid, smarter than Marvin—oh no, of course not. Because that somehow makes Marvin less of a man, and it’s fine and dandy if Whizzer’s self-concept is shot to hell so long as Marvin feels secure and comfortable.

It used to not bother him—to play the role of dumb whore. But a lot of things get fucking old after a long while.

“What’s to get?” Marvin asks, and Whizzer hates how his words make him tense but his skilled, kneading fingers make him buckle and relax, “I know the basics—stars and planets and comets and blah blah blah. Just start talking, and I’m sure I can figure it out. Hell, maybe you need a pair of fresh eyes on it.”

Whizzer feels a sickening sense of anger and loathing, “You think you’re being cute, don’t you?”

Marvin continues to massage his shoulders and it overwhelmingly disgusts Whizzer when he doesn’t even seem to realize his own inflated arrogance, kissing the side of Whizzer’s neck and mumbling against his skin, “Yes.”

Whizzer finally shakes him off of him, saying briskly, “Well, you’re not. You’re being a condescending asshole.”

His sudden surge of ice and anger seems to surprise Marvin, and he replies after a beat, defensive and hurt, “Whizzer, I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, you can’t, okay?” Whizzer bites out, suddenly so angry and disgusted and tired—fuck, he didn’t even realize he was just so tired of it all, “You can’t fix everything, Marvin, alright? You’re not right all the time, and you don’t know everything. Jesus, you must realize that, don’t you? Or are you that fucking self-deluded?”

The hurt, astonished look fades from Marvin’s face, and Whizzer feels a faint flicker of fear lick down his spine. Whizzer is never one to forget that Marvin is composed of material of which is indicative of a cryovolcano—ice and violence.

And it’s not like Marvin has ever laid a fucking hand on him (Whizzer is gone the second after that happens, thank you very much), but that doesn’t mean shit, right? Because maybe, just maybe, Whizzer just hasn’t seen Marvin at his peak of rage, hasn’t made him angry enough to do it just yet.

But Marvin—blank-faced, dark-eyed—doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move toward him. Instead, like the coward that they both know that he is, he turns around and stalks off, slamming the door on his way out of the apartment.

Whizzer thinks that this was a victory on his part, that he should feel like a winner.

But he doesn’t. He’s frustrated and angry and sad and alone.

:: - ::

Supernova

The explosion of a star.

When Marvin thrusts that suitcase against Whizzer’s chest, the momentum knocks Whizzer off his axis, has him torn out of Marvin’s orbit, has him lost and alone and hurdling into the cold isolation of space.

:: - ::

Apastron

The point of greatest separation of two stars.

Whizzer keeps in touch with Jason. He meets the kid after school every once in awhile at Central Park, toting a baseball and two mitts.

Whizzer likes to pretend that it’s a favor to Jason, to help out his baseball playing because Marvin sure as hell isn’t even bothering to try, but really it’s a favor to Whizzer more than anything. Jason is his connection to the tight-knit family that he had wasted nearly a year of his life on, to the possibility of a family at all, to the what if’s that plague him at night. What if Whizzer had stayed? What if Whizzer had left sooner? What if Whizzer came back?

After the particularly disastrous attempt at catch, Jason offhandedly fills him in on what’s going on—Trina and Mendel are on an exercise and dieting kick, his Bar Mitzvah is imminent, Heather Levin said hi to him in the hallway in passing...

And every time, Jason makes Whizzer swallow his pride and ask, “How’s Marvin?” Because yeah, he still cares about him. It’s been two years, and most days, looking back on it, his time with Marvin just feels like a fever dream—wild and delirious and exhilarating and disorienting.

But. It doesn’t change the fact that Whizzer still cares—will always still care—about him, even if it is just in an abstract sorta way. Even during the horrible, overwhelming everything and the subsequent two years of nothing, Whizzer has always wanted Marvin to be happy. Of course, Whizzer would never exchange his own happiness for Marvin’s, but that doesn’t mean that he wants Marvin to be miserable regardless. He’s not that cruel.

“Weirdly happy, actually,” Jason says, surprising Whizzer, “This whole Bar Mitzvah thing has really excited him. It’s kinda embarrassing, if I’m being honest.”

Whizzer finds himself smiling, only a touch of melancholy and bitterness gracing his tone as he admits, “That’s good. I’m glad he’s—getting better.” Getting over me. But that’s not quite true, is it? Whizzer wouldn’t call this hollow feeling gladness.

Jason apparently sees something in the twist of Whizzer’s mouth because he says quite abruptly, “You should go to my baseball game this Sunday.”

And Whizzer thinks about all those what if’s and nearly chokes on them.

“I’ll think about it.” Whizzer says, even though he’s already made up his mind.

:: - ::

Tidal Force

The differential gravitational pull exerted on any extended body within the gravitational field of another body.

This day is going to be about Jason. This is not about seeing Marvin again for the first time in two years. This is not about looking great and fit and getting silent revenge on Marvin for kicking him out. This is not about casually dropping in and seeing if Marvin is happy, if he’s eating well, if he still misses him at all. This is not about Marvin. This is not about Marvin. Not everything has to be about Marvin.

But Whizzer forgets this mantra the second that he catches sight of the man—horribly dressed, face flushed, hiding behind an unamused woman. And fuck, it’s just like looking at the moon, a looming titan with depth and luminosity and ethereality and tangibility, as if Whizzer could just reach up and touch it—

Inside his jacket pockets, Whizzer’s hands twitch, and he’s thankful that no one notices his momentary weakness.

Whizzer tries to make this visit only about Jason, but then Marvin makes him sit in front of him and he keeps playing with his hair in a way that reminds Whizzer of better nights of soft touches and sleepy laughter. And Whizzer feels himself being pulled back into Marvin’s orbit, kicking and screaming.

Marvin asks, “Would it be possible to see you—or to kiss you—or to give you a call?” And he’s looking at Whizzer like he holds the galaxies at his fingertips, and Whizzer can’t stop staring at Marvin’s lips, wondering if he could ever find new meaning in a familiar body.

Whizzer nods and knowingly sets himself up to implode.

:: - ::

Active galactic nuclei

A region in the center of a galaxy that has a higher than normal brightness.

Weeks later, they’re lying in bed, and Whizzer knows that this is just an average day with the Earth spinning on its axis and the sun being the center of the galaxy, but right now—in this bed, under these sheets, with Marvin pressed against his body—it feels like they’re on another plane of existence.

It’s a lazy Wednesday evening, one that is full of good-natured teasing and soft touches and kisses without a purpose or means to an end.

Marvin’s grip around Whizzer tightens, and he breathes pleading, goading words into his hair, “Come on, Spaceman. Tell me about the star stuff again.” And he isn’t derisive, he isn’t rude. He seems genuinely—curious.

And so Whizzer does. He explains that the iron in their blood and the calcium in their teeth and the carbon in their very genes were produced billions of years ago inside a red giant of gaseous flames. He goes on a tangent about how the water in their skin is that the same of the frozen water which makes up a comet. He theorizes that everything is celestial in its own right, with its own meaning. He describes the star stuff that weaves the galaxy together, just as it threads DNA.

Kissing his neck, Whizzer runs a hand through Marvin’s curled, mussed hair, twisting the strands and listing, “These would be comet tails.” He licks a pocket of sweat from Marvin’s collarbone, continuing, “This is space dust.” He prods at a collection of freckles at Marvin’s inner thigh, naming, “Nebulas.”

Marvin smiles and kisses Whizzer, but rather than doing so just to shut him up (like he wildly expects), Marvin pulls back a little and requests softly, kind and patient, “Tell me more.”

:: - ::

Dark Matter

Matter in the universe that cannot be seen, but can be detected by its gravitational effects on other bodies

Of course he’d heard about it—before it happened to him. Even if he hadn’t been listening to Charlotte’s rants of fear and anxiety and confusion, Whizzer sure as hell noticed many of his friends—once laughing, happy, healthy—soon wither in a way that defies science, that defies humanity.

When Whizzer starts to feel more tired than usual, he blames it on his chaotic work schedule.

When Whizzer begins losing weight, he blames it on his working-too-well metabolism.

When Whizzer collapses on that racquetball court, he blames it on the only celestial body that he doesn’t even believe in anymore—not since he was a kid.

“What does it look like?” Whizzer asks Charlotte, and at her blank look, he clarifies dryly, “My murderer.”

The stone in her face shatters before she hurriedly pastes it all back together again, “We don’t know for sure, really. We just know what it makes others look like.”

“Death.” Whizzer answers, looking at his reflection of hollow eyes and hollow cheeks, “It makes us look like death.”

:: - ::

Event Horizon

The invisible boundary around a black hole past which nothing can escape the gravitational pull—not even light.

He tries to warn them all away, but they all gravitate toward him. Even though all he does is take and take and take.

Trina. Whizzer took her man and way of life away and forced her to live a life of unconvention and chaos where she now comforts the man who took everything from her.

Mendel. Whizzer took his blind optimism away as he now tries to stay up later and later in order to solve a problem that doesn’t have a solution yet.

Charlotte and Cordelia. Whizzer took their bliss and ignorance away as Charlotte now leaves the hospital with a bitter taste in her mouth and Cordelia bakes and bakes only to keep herself from screaming.

Jason. Whizzer took his moment of Becoming a Man away and made it all about him.

Marvin. Whizzer took his…Whizzer took his…Whizzer took his…

:: - ::

Accretion disks

When material is transferred from one celestial object to another.

Marvin stares at him, god-smacked, with a look of horror and despondency, “She told you?” He speaks of it like he’s been betrayed by the doctor rather than his lover.

“Charlotte didn’t have to tell me,” Whizzer says lowly, because if he raised his voice anymore, he knows that it will break, “Marvin, look at yourself.”

The loose clothes, the discoloration of skin, the rattling cough.

“I’m fine. She said that they caught it early,” Marvin says, painting on that stupid, optimistic, fake smile of his, “I’ll be alright.” But Whizzer’s face is already crumbling, and Marvin rushes to his hospital bed, tries to pull him close as Whizzer shoves him away with all the weak force he has left.

“Don’t touch me. I’ve already infected you enough.”

“Whizzer, stop it. Don’t say—“

“I ruined you, Marvin.”

“You saved me—a million times over.” Marvin threads their hands together, and the touch feels hot and explosive—like they’re holding an entire star system together, “Who would I have been without my spaceman?”

Desperate, Whizzer kisses him, and he finally finds the meaning that he’s been searching for.

:: - ::

Colliding galaxies

Marvin wheels Whizzer to the window in his hospital room, and it’s a pretty shit view but Whizzer can still make out a sparse collection of stars splattered across the night sky. Behind him, Marvin massages his bony shoulders, kisses his hairline, and requests softly, kind and patient, “Tell me about the star stuff.”

#if you couldn't tell this followed the events of the musical - bc I chose format over plot #but um yeahh??? I loved this??? A lot??? It's amazing??? thank you so much?? I hope you like it???#will probs post this to my ao3 sometime today too #also i know that i said i was going to do these in descending order but this user gave me their prompt first like an hour #after the winners were announced soooo - yeah i had already started on it #but anyways #falsettos #fanfiction #whizzvin #writing #writing raffle #yikes i am so sorry that i made this so sad #also that's my title right now (the star stuff) but if you think of a better hmu #also tell me what you think of this please - i love validation

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