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nights-flying-fox · 7 months

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Mystic Sickness Part 1

This is based on @turtleblogatlast 's post about mystic sickness idea :D Hope you like it!!!

Word Count: 2178 ☆ Fandom: rottmnt ☆ Warnings: a brief mention of throwing up, nothing else i can think of ^^ ☆ AO3 Link: N/A

Raph has had his bad mornings. He had been sick from overworking too. With how he felt today, he could tell it was a mix of both.

Except it turned out there was more than that. It must be, or else why would a clone of himself stare at him like that?

Raph yelped as he fell from the bed. "What the-?!"

His copy didn't seem to care. It lay on his bed, not even looking at Raph. The turtle blinked in confusion. That was definitely his own ninpo copy. Why was it here, and why was it moving like that? Raph tried to focus and control it, just like he always did, but he failed. The copy still lay on the bed.

He stared at him. Raph was too tired for that, not to mention how early it was-

"AH-"

Raph turned around. "Leo?"

There was nobody else in his room though.

"Is this some sort of joke?" Raph grunted. "If so, Raph's going back to bed and leavin' you to deal with today's plans alone. All day."

"RAPH NO-"

He turned around again, looking everywhere searching for his brother. Again, nothing.

"I am really not in the mood for pranks-"

Suddenly Leo appeared in front of him, "RAPH HELP I-" and disappeared.

Raph looked at the empty spot where a second ago his brother stood. First his own copy, now Leo. What was going on?

"RAAAAAPH!!"

Raph groaned, “WHAT IS IT DONNIE?”

“WHAT THE HECK ARE YOUR COPIES DOING?!”

His copies? Raph glanced at his copy on his bed before leaving his room and heading to the living room. He had many ideas, most of them nonsense considering his tired and hazy mind. But nothing could’ve prepared him for this:

Many copies of himself running around, accidentally breaking some stuff, some sitting in random places... Donnie was standing at the other entrance, looking tired and angry. Pissed off even.

He noticed Raph looking. “Dear brother, may you explain what is going on during such an early hour that you have decided bring out a whole army of yous?”

“It is not me...” Raph mumbled as he walked towards Donnie, not being able to look away from the chaos going on in the room.

“They are your copies though. Can’t you control them?” Donnie pointed out. “Genuinely asking. I am too tired to be salty.”

“I tried but it is not working.” Raph tried again, failing. Then gave his full attention to Donnie, “You are tired too?”

“I suspect I have caught a cold.” He nodded.

“Me too. I’ve been feeling down since I woke up.”

“Groan. It better not be some sort of illness.” Donnie said.

“As long as it is not rat flu, it will be okay.” Raph reassured.

Donnie shuddered. “Rat flu. Let’s forget about the failure and move on to our current problem.”

“Cold or them?” Raph asked.

“...” Donnie stared at nothing before answering. A usual sign of Donnie being sick. “Yes.”

“Okay, okay. Sickness. Leo has the most knowledge about this.” Raph said out loud. “I’ll go and ask him.”

“Mhm.” Donnie had already begun walking towards the kitchen.

Raph started walking towards Leo’s room, ignoring the messy hallway. Since when did they have all that stuff and who was responsible for this mess? Probably his clones... When he reached to the room, “Leo?” he called. He received no reply. Raph didn’t bother asking again. He walked in, not caring about Leo’s upcoming protests. Except there was none because Leo wasn’t in there. “What?..”

Oh. Right, he had seen Leo for a second in his room for a second. He had appeared and disappeared as if teleporting. But Raph didn’t remember seeing his katanas. He glanced around and saw the swords near his bed on the ground. He was right.

What did this mean?.. What was going on this morning?? Raph began getting annoyed with whatever was going on. Not to mention how anxious he started feeling not finding Leo in his room. Where was he?

Maybe he was with Mikey. Maybe they were doing some stupid prank.

Raph a bit faster from before left the room and began walking towards Mikey’s room. Normally Mikey would be up, making breakfast. But if he and Donnie were right, he should be in his room resting. As he stepped into Mikey’s room, he hopped to see him and Leo doing some sort of mischief.

Instead, he found Mikey levitating, golden chains around him, asleep.

“What the shell?!”

Mikey yawned, blinking. “Mmmmmorning Raphie!” He smiled, being the morning person he was. “Is there any possibility you let me sleep a bit more?”

“Mikey, you are flying.”

“What?”

“Look around, Mike.”

Mikey did. In a second his expression shifted from confused to shocked to excited to panicked. “I AM FLYING!”

“THAT’S WHAT I AM SAYING!” Raph yelled. “GET BACK TO THE GROUND NOW.”

“I DON’T KNOW HOW TO!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW?!”

“Boys, what is all this yelling for?..” Raph heard Splinter’s voice come from behind. Then he heard a gasp. “ORANGE WHY ARE YOU LEVIATING?”

“I have no idea.” Mikey answered. He noticed the chains around him, “Oooh I also have no idea what these are but cool.”

Raph took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. First things first. Pops, have you seen Leo?”

“Uh- no. No, I haven’t.” Splinter turned his attention to Raph, less surprised and more worried.

“Mikey, did you see him?”

“Nope!”

So Leo was lost. Don’t panic Raph. He is probably somewhere around here, he thought. “I’ll text April.”

“Red, is everythin—”

Suddenly, just like how it happened in Raph’s room, Leo appeared in the room. He looked very puzzled, tired, annoyed, and a bit panicked. Before Raph could be sure, Leo disappeared again.

His voice, however, was heard from another room. “COME ON!!”

And then from another room, they heard him again. Raph couldn’t make up the words but he sounded irritated.

“Was that Leo?” Mikey asked.

“Yes.” Raph answered, still very confused.

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know.”

“Boys, what is going on?” Splinter sounded serious.

Raph sadly didn’t have a proper answer. “That’s what I am trying to figure out.” He sighed. “Can you check Donnie? He is in the kitchen and said that he felt sick too.”

“I will be waiting you two there.” Splinter nodded. “I’ll look around for Blue on the way.”

“CAN SOMEONE—”

Leo’s voice came from his room.

“—HELP ME—”

This time from somewhere closer.

“I think I can handle him.” Raph said.

Splinter smiled, “I’ll make you chicken soup.”

“Thanks Dad.”

As Splinter left, Raph reached for Mikey. Grabbing his blanket, he pulled him closer to him. Mikey watched him with sleepy eyes. “Raphie, can we sleep more?”

“No, Big Man. We need to help Leo first, and then we need to eat something.” Raph said softly, walking out of the room meanwhile. Mikey huffed but didn’t protest. Raph decided to find Leo following his voice: “Leo? Where are you?”

“RAPH! Bathroom—” Suddenly his voice was cut. Then continued from somewhere else, “Never mind. I-” Another pause. The Leo calmly yelled, “I’ll go insane.”

“What’s happening?” Raph shouted.

“I keep teleported-” “-without wanting-” “-to every second.”

“That sounds bad.”

“You don’t say-” “DONNIE IS THA-” “THAT WAS MY MUG!!”

At least Leo didn't teleport out of the lair.

"I think we should call Draxum." Mikey hummed, somehow unbothered.

"Wha- why?" Splinter's reaction hadn't changed even after everything.

"He knows about mystic stuff." Mikey said lazily. It reminded Raph of how he was when he had eaten one of the poisoned pizza puffs.

"You think this is because of a mystic problem?" Raph asked.

"I know it is because of a mystic problem." Mikey confirmed.

"How?"

"Can't you feel it? Hm?"

Raph wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel. Donnie leaned towards them, goggles on his eyes. "He is right. There is something wrong with our mystic energies."

"I'm calling Draxum." Raph announced.

"Already on it." Donnie interrupted. He, from out of nowhere, had found his phone and was calling the yokai.

"Please tell me you're solving this." Leo appeared next to Raph, not looking good.

"We're calling Draxum." Mikey smiled.

"Oh good, because I- hrk-"

Luckily before he could throw up, he disappeared.

"We need you here. No, we didn't put the world in danger. We aren't dying either. No, we aren't calling you so you can cook us your new abomination. Abomination as a strange creature made of food, i.e. Sloppy Joseph. No, I'm not talking about your food. Yes. There's a problem with our ninpo. Okay, goodbye." Donnie put the phone on the table. "He'll be here soon."

"Good… Donnie, what's that?" Raph pointed at the tech that wasn't on the table a second ago.

"Ah. A piece for my new project. Why?"

"When did you bring it here?"

"...I didn't."

"What do you mean I didn't?"

Donnie raised a brow. "I didn't bring it here. I was thinking about it and it appeared."

"Appeared?"

Donnie shrugged.

"Since when do things appear when you think of them, Dee?" Raph questioned.

"That's a talent of mine, dear Raphael. My ninpo is very unique in comparison to yours–" Donnie began explaining.

"Since when do they appear without you controlling them?" Raph corrected his own question.

"Ah. Yes, that would be… since last night."

"And you didn't think of telling us?" Raph was losing his patience, to be honest.

"I didn't think it would be a problem." Donnie admitted.

Raph wanted to break the table. "You thought it wouldn't be a problem." He repeated. "And what if you accidentally create something deadly?"

"Come on Raph, he creates something deadly all the time." Mikey chimed in. "Like pipe bombs."

"Mikey, don't!" But Raph was too late. A pipe bomb was formed next to Donnie's mug.

"None of us is dumb enough to use a pipe bomb, we will be fine." Donnie stated. Then took a sip from his tea.

Raph wasn't sure about that. He trusted his brothers, but he also knew how much of a trouble they could be.

Leo appeared among them again. "Dee, I'd suggest you not enter your lab." He said tiredly.

"Nardo, what did you do to my lab?" Donnie looked at him with a mixture of horror and anger.

"Adiós." He made a peace sign and disappeared again.

Donnie immediately opened his phone to check the cameras inside his laboratory. Raph could see the fury in his eyes. Maybe Leo was lucky to be teleported every second, now that he got on Donnie's hit list.

Splinter put bowls of chicken soup in front of them, "You boys look terrible."

"Thanks." Raph sighed.

"You'll feel much better after my delicious soup." He said. "Now, only if Blue could join us…"

The soup was warm and smelled delicious. Raph couldn't wait to taste it. He would already, if he hadn't noticed his copy coming in. Ninpo Raph walked towards them, stood by them, then took the pipe bomb and ran.

"What the-?! HEY STOP!" Raph got up and ran after him, leaving Mikey to float again.

He chased his clone back to the living room, but it was hard to catch yourself. Especially in a room full of yourself. He stopped, trying to find which one was the right clone. When he did, he was leaving towards the bathroom. Raph didn't waste time following him. Before he reached him though, someone made his copy trip and fell.

"This yours, Boss Man?" Leo asked.

"Yep." And with a punch, poof the copy disappeared. "Thanks."

"Save me some soup." Leo said before getting teleported again.

"I will." Raph sighed, taking the pipe bomb from the ground. He could hide it in his room for now. Then go back and drink some soup so he can focus on the situation better when Draxum arrives. Perfect plan.

He quickly walked to his room, found a nice place to hide it, and proceeded to grab his mask and stuff. Then he remembered the transceivers Donnie had put on their gear. They could use this to communicate with Leo! If only Leo can stand in a place for a moment. Raph still thought it was worth a try, so he went to Leo’s room to get his stuff as well before returning to the kitchen.

Donnie had dozed off on the table with a few weapons and tech things that Raph didn’t know their names around him. Mikey was still floating, also sleeping. He seemed to be fine though. Splinter was enjoying his own bowl of soup. Raph sat down and finally tasted the soup. It was delicious, as always, even though it wasn’t warm anymore.

“Did you boys mess up with somebody evil again?” Splinter asked Raph.

“No, we were training and patroling the past few days.” He answered. “That’s what I don’t understand too.”

“Hmm...”

“Don’t worry, Pops. I am sure it is something Draxum can explain. Then we can fix it all at once and then rest.”

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l223m0nade · 2 years

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Chill

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I wrote a thing! A Bucky-With-A-Cold scenario bc that is my favorite thing in this life, in which he is pretty Winter Soldier-y but not in an angsty way, and Steve is all tender for him.

Canon-ish, post-WS, Steve Bucky and Sam are going on missions against Hydra while Bucky/the Soldier recovers his memories & self.

IDK about this title but I'm stoked I finished this so it's goin up :D

———————————

“…Hey Buck. You wakin’ up?”

The Soldier cracked his eyes open. Took stock of his surroundings: bare wood, high windows looking out onto cold gray sky and earth, unfamiliar lumpy couch, scratchy wool blanket, tall blond man hovering with a cup of something steaming in his hands— Steve. He was with Steve.

He relaxed as the rest came trickling back. Safehouse. Northern Canada. A mission: chasing down a small Hydra cell that had gone to ground in this remote area. Then… helicopters…

“How are you feeling?” Steve liked to ask that question. The Soldier had come to realize it wasn’t a taunt or a deliberate attempt to confuse him or make him feel weak, but it was still hard to answer most of the time. He grunted vaguely, then frowned at the scratchy ache in his throat. Had he been screaming in his sleep? There wasn’t the tight misery on Steve’s face that usually resulted from that.

He was actually smiling a bit, managing to look concerned but also the slightest bit amused. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Helicopters.” Big ones. “Three of them. You, me, and” the man with the wings— “Sam. He was fine. I took out the crew on mine. You fell,” he finished accusingly. Talking scratched at his throat and resonated oddly in his nose, which felt sort of cotton-wool-stuffed and sensitive and increasingly tingly.

Steve’s eyes went to his leg and he finally noticed the splint and bandage engulfing his right knee. “…Then what happened.” He still forgot to put inflection into his voice sometimes, to make his words a question instead of a flat statement. Steve didn’t mind, anyhow.

“You went jumping right after me, ya goof.” Steve suppressed a chuckle as Bucky’s eyes narrowed further at the suggestion that he and not Steve was the goof. “Threw me clear of the hole in the ice while the damn helicopter crashed on top of you.” It hadn’t been funny at the time, but Bucky lying safe on the couch, bundled in blankets, and giving him that accusing narrow-eyed glare that was so familiar, was making him feel giddy with relief and happiness.

He was also starting to scrunch and wrinkle his nose a little —Steve had a guess why— and it was a little, well, cute. “A rotor hit your leg, not too hard but hard enough for a fracture and a pretty bad wound, and you sunk with the chopper, so you were under for a few minutes before me and Sam could get to you. You were hypothermic. I was worried.” He knew his face was doing something very soft and tender but he couldn’t help it. Bucky looked exasperated as he often did in response to Steve’s worry. He was also getting a hazy, confused little expression on his face.

The Soldier wanted to roll his eyes, a recently discovered expression Steve often inspired, and snark back at the big blond idiot, but before he could, the building tingling itch in his nose crested, seized his breath in a series of hitches, and— “heh…hih-ehschoo!” it only abated for an instant, and then returned. “hitschoo! …heh-heh, adt—” the last one fizzled away and left him blinking and shaking his head. The cotton-wool feeling was still there, even more than before.

Steve looked more sympathetic than surprised. “Bless you. This is for you to drink, if you want it—” he put the cup of tea on the coffee table within arm’s reach. “It’s good for sore throats, which I think you might have right now.”

The Soldier squinted at him suspiciously. How did he know that? He sniffled. The feeling that had made him sneeze had backed off, but felt like it could return any second.

Steve did his concerned smile thing. “I think you might be a little, well, sick. There was a mention in—in a file I found” now he was glaring at the floor like he’d like to murder it. “Something about immune sensitivity to severe cold temperature. And even though the serum’s supposed to stop us ever getting sick, I’ve gotten a little under the weather when I was healing from an injury before. You might be dealing with a cold, pal. Might not have had one since the last one you caught off me in the ‘40s, or, I guess, you might not remember.”

The Soldier didn’t remember much from Before, though things came back once in a while. Did he remember feeling like this? He had to sniffle again. His head and face were starting to feel big, and heavy, and a soft pounding had started up behind his eyes. His leg hurt, but that was more familiar than this other —just feel crummy, Stevie—feeling.

He shrugged uncertainly in lieu of answering, sat upright just enough to reach the cup of tea and take a few cautious sips. It hadn’t been an order, but he could tell Steve wanted him to drink it. It did feel good on the soreness in his throat. But the steam rising from the cup, despite being a barely perceptible sensation, felt like a feather tickling his nose, and suddenly the sneezes were back.

“hdtsch, h-h-hitsch!...hitshiew!” He turned toward the back of the couch and managed not to spill the tea, sniffled a few times in a row, but his nose wasn’t done: “huh…huh-ISHhhoo!”

“Bless you, Buck! I think that’s a ‘yes’ on catching a cold. Let me get you some tissues, or find something in this place that’ll work…” Steve moved off with purpose as he spoke. It was a safehouse: well-stocked with non-perishable food and basic medical necessities, but not much else. He waffled between bandage cloth and toilet paper for a few seconds and then grabbed both. As he returned to Bucky on the couch he heard another soft but itchy-sounding sneeze— “hih-etssch!” followed by a series of urgent sniffles. “Here you go, pal. Couldn’t find tissues but you can blow your nose with either of these.”

Bucky grabbed a rectangular piece of cloth meant for bandaging wounds, clearly needing to tend to his nose too much to freeze over the decision as he still sometimes did with minor choices offered to him, and blew his nose with an expression of relief.

“Sorry I don’t have any handkerchiefs. I carried one for a while after I woke up, but people don’t use them much anymore and I got tired of getting looks like I was insane or getting called ‘Grandpa’ every time I pulled one out.”

Bucky blinked up at him. His nostrils were already pink and sensitive-looking, and there was a slight flush showing on his cheeks as well. “I don’t remember…this,” he said, gesturing at his face with the makeshift tissue. His voice was getting a bit rough and congested. He cleared his throat. “S’not too bad.” He rubbed his nose itchily, turning it more red, and gave a soft cough. His eyebrows turned up and he gave a shivery inhale like he was about to sneeze, but then it deserted him and he sunk back onto the couch cushion with a sigh. He looked like he was feeling pretty miserable, whatever he might say.

“Not too bad, but not too much fun, either. I sure remember how it felt for me.” Steve said softly, putting his hand on his friend’s warm forehead. Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut, and on instinct Steve put the back of his hand to Bucky’s cheek, and watched as he leaned into the soft cool touch, vulnerable in a way he so rarely was. Something clenched in Steve’s chest. “You definitely have a fever. I’m sure you’ll be better before long, especially if you rest. Get some more sleep; I’ll heat up some soup when you wake up.”

“What ‘bout you,” murmured Bucky sleepily, followed by another soft sniffle.

“Don’t worry about me, Buck.” Steve could feel how sappy his expression must be, and was grateful Sam was sacked out in the back bedroom. “I ain’t tired yet, I’ll be on watch.”

“You were—snfff—in the water too” said Bucky accusingly, fighting sleep as he tried to turn the tables of fussing onto Steve.

“You tossed me outta there so fast I barely had time to get wet.” Steve’s eyes twinkled as he smiled. “Too worried about me, as usual.” Bucky scowled at that like Steve knew he would, scrunching his red nose.

“Like hell. Just didn’t want you to go getting yourself…fro—frohoze…huhh…HUH—USHchoo! Ugh. Frozen againd.” Bucky replied, interrupting himself with a heavy sneeze into the cloth in his hand. He really sounded like he had a cold. He lifted the cloth again just as he shivered into a tiny soft “hih-tishh” and blew his nose tiredly.

“Sleep, Buck.” Steve gave into the urge to stroke his hair and Bucky gave a little sigh, eyes finally sliding closed. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

#snzfic #captain america #cute sick bucky #cute sneezy bucky #snz kink #snzblr #mcu #bucky barnes #winter soldier #steve rogers

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suttttton · 2 years

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vampire fic made me realize i never commented about ghost jon so i'm gonna use your askbox to avoid the energy cost of swapping sites. I! have been thinking! about jon curled up in his sad lil corner ever since i read it. Also thinking about a variety of one shots and aus related to it. what if elias DID get jon a lil friend or marry him or etc etc. About Jon being dropped on the hard cold floor when he's so desperately sick and seeing elias walk away and leave him in the dark AGAIN. it made me fully cry, tears running down my cheeks, as your work so often does

(ghost jon context)

i am so glad you brought up elias leaving jon to die alone because that was my favorite part of the whole thing. i rearranged the whole story like twenty times trying to figure out the right time to reveal that detail, and I'm really proud of how it turned out where jon is thinking about it constantly but the reader doesn't find out until he's deep in the revenge 🔪🔪🔪

that scene also made all of elias' whole deal so funny to write. man could have easily avoided the whole haunting if he had simply stayed with jon (or even just left him alone in the comfy bed!) instead of being The Worst

elias in general was really fun to write in the fic ESPECIALLY with his lil fantasies about marrying jon and moving to some picturesque cabin somewhere. elias literally all of your friends and business partners know jon as a) your nephew and b) EXTREMELY mentally ill. like. i think someone would have objections, or at least questions??? idk maybe it would be an "official-in-elias'-mind" marriage where there are no witnesses or officiant or documentation, but we're married now trust me <3

thinking about jon as a tragic ghost is making me want to get the olivepilogue finished (fingers crossed for halloween??) but as a teaser here's the blog post gerry wrote after his interview with elias (under a cut because it's p long):

On June 5, in a series of events that I'm sure my readers are by now very familiar with, Elias Bouchard turned himself into the police for the crime of kidnapping, falsely imprisoning, and eventually murdering Jonathan Sims.

On June 6, Jonathan's remains were recovered from the Bouchard estate and taken to Westlake Mortuary Services for cremation. Westlake is a mortuary company that specializes in identifying psychic activity in their deceased clients, and every member of their staff is a certified medium. In their official report, they found no unexplained psychic activity or spiritual manifestations, and Jonathan was officially ruled a departed spirit.

Because of that, none of the journalistic coverage of the Elias Bouchard trial has made any attempt to contact or interview Jonathan, despite substantial evidence that Bouchard experienced psychic activity in the months after Jonathan's death.

On July 1, I obtained an interview with Bouchard. However, if you're looking for more juicy insights into the leech, you'd be better off checking the tabloids. My purpose in going was to look for signs that Jonathan is not departed at all, and after my experience, I can say with absolute certainty that Jonathan is very much still here.

Before all the skeptics jump down my throat, I know better than anyone that being clairvoyant is not the same as being a true medium. I'm not claiming to have spoken to Jonathan. I do, however, have an eye for psychic activity and spiritual anomalies, and Jonathan was making no attempts to hide his presence. He spent most of the interview leaning over my shoulder, presumably looking at my notepad. I felt his mood lighten whenever I said something rude to Elias, and I felt him darken at times when Elias said things I can only assume he disagrees with. When my interview ended (early, because apparently Bouchard is the easily-offended sort), Jonathan followed me all the way to the door.

I don't know if he heard me, or even knew I was speaking to him, but I told him to keep up the good work.

Manifesting a haunting is no easy task for a spirit. From this side of the veil, it seems like the simplest thing in the world—wouldn’t we all choose to keep living, rather than die? It’s important to remember that the dead belong to the beyond. The moment you die, your soul, your very essence, longs to be gone, longs to rest.

Imagine you’ve been awake for forty-eight hours straight. Finally, you’ve lain down in bed, beneath your most comfortable blankets. Your white noise machine is playing soothing ocean sounds, and just keeping your eyes open feels like a monumental effort. Is there anything that could pull you away from your rest?

Now imagine you’ve spent the past four years being tortured by a psychopath. You’ve long since given up on rescue or escape; it’s all you can do to make it through every day with your mind halfway intact. Then, finally, for the first time in four years, the pain ends. You don’t hurt, you aren’t trapped, and your tormentor is far away.

Would you go back?

I am so sick of the narrative everyone seems to agree upon that paints Jonathan as a tragic, helpless victim of a monstrous man. All of these articles and podcasts and numbered-list breakdowns of the evidence stacking up against Elias Bouchard treat Jonathan like his imprisonment and death were an inevitability of the kind of person he was.

At the time of his kidnapping, Jonathan was taking a semester break from working on his Master's degree. According to his academic advisor, he'd taken time off for his mental health. The rigor of the program was causing him considerable stress.

I keep seeing this fact brought up in articles about Bouchard. If I were being generous, I would say that the authors of those articles were trying to humanize Jonathan, to make the audience see him as a real person instead of an abstract. But I'm not being generous. Over and over again, Jonathan's mental health issues are at best held up as potential reasons he was particularly vulnerable to attack. At worst, they are used to explain why he never managed to escape in four years of imprisonment (as if Bouchard hasn’t admitted that Jonathan tried to escape multiple times).

Of course, it isn't just Jon's leave of absence that gets utilized in this way. It's every goddamn thing about him. It's statements from his ex-landlord saying that Jonathan always seemed a bit nervous when putting in work orders and his ex-boss saying that she tended to worry about him because he struck her as a bit naive. It's quotes from Elias fucking Bouchard himself saying that Jonathan was simply "an easy target."

Well, thank god the rest of us aren't easy targets!

This systematic evisceration of Jonathan's agency makes me furious. Jonathan could have left this plane as soon as he died, and none of us would have known what happened to him. Elias Bouchard would not be facing trial; he would still be living it up in his lavish estate, feeling absolutely no guilt for the things he's done.

Maybe he'd even have found another "easy target" by now.

But Jonathan stayed. He stayed, and he made sure that Elias Bouchard paid for his crimes. He made sure that we learned the truth. He made sure that justice was served.

This story is a tragedy, not because Jonathan could do nothing to fight against Elias, but because he fought with everything he had and it wasn't enough to save him. Jonathan died, and then he kept fighting anyway.

Just one more thing before I sign off:

I hope that fucker rots in prison.

#asks #the haunting of elias bouchard #my fic #inklingofadream

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mrpenguinpants · 3 years

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Xiao: String of Fate [Soulmate AU] HCs

Hey anon! Okay, I’m just gonna level with you. This request? This request right here? Probably one of my favourites. I went feral over this at 3am and my monkey brain fabricated an entire life story for Xiao when he’s not even out yet.

I sorta combined this request with my feral plot idea (which is honestly a 20k word fic at this point), but ahem, I hope you like and np^^ gotta make so many offerings so Xiao hopefully blesses me. Have a lovely day anon!!

--- Xiao Semi Series

[ Friendship ] [ Falling in Love ] [ Cuddles ] [ Protective ] [ Affection ] [ Jealously ] [ Opposites Attract ] [ Fainting ]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @sunnshiii @hanniejji @snowy224 @mayumintsu @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki @legionqueensav @youaskedfurret

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Xiao: String of Fate [Soulmate AU] HCs

The red string of fate is a concept that those who are connected by a red string are destined to meet and fall in love. Regardless of place, time, or circumstances. The red string can never be broken unless one connected passes away.

Alatus

For the past few days, Alatus would wake up early and scale the mountains of his small village to pick Qingxin flowers. The morning dew would still be on the petals before the sun came by and evaporated everything. It became a bit of a small joke that the elders used to make, that a earth spirit would appear at the break of dawn to place the flowers for harvest. Not that Alatus minded, he was grateful that whatever celestial spirt was out there made sure to replace the ones he took. Remembering to always offer a prayer of thanks and a small offering, you would scold him if he didn’t.

He quickly scaled and vaulted over the wooden beam and slipped into your room. He winced at the sound of his shoes landing on the wooden floor but you didn’t seem to stir. You were still sleeping peacefully as Alatus took the fresh flowers to add to the ones already in your small vase beside you. They were your favourite flower after all. He reminisces about when you were both children and how you would drag him to mountains and tell him all about how at the very top there was his beautiful white flower. But you were both too young with small limbs to even attempt to climb it, plus if you somehow managed to do it, it would take too long and both your parents would be worried. It never seemed to deter you as you reasoned that a wind spirit would help your journey. Come to think of it, you always put a lot of faith into celestial beings. But he goes along with your plan, never one to contain your desire to explore.

He’s suddenly snapped out of his memories when he hears a soft knock on the door. It quietly opens to reveal your mother. She gives him a small smile as he looked a bit guilty for getting caught breaking in before waving him over to hand him something. You left him with a small bamboo package that you had wanted to give on his birthday. On top of the bamboo, you had wrote a short but warming message that you were worried about him always running off outside and that he might catch a cold. He smiled softly at your words, ingraining the way your ink brush flowed down the bamboo sticks into his mind. He offer’s a small thanks as she gives him a comforting hug. Whether for him or her he doesn’t know and she leaves.

He carefully untied the brown string keeping the package together to unravel a blue, white, and gold sleeve. He silently marveled at how beautiful it was and held it up to the light, it almost seemed to shine with subtle highlights. He has no idea how you managed to create this, he had never even seen the dye of red or gold used in clothing before. Perhaps the celestial beings decided to bless you for your prayers and devotion. He gives one small squeeze of your hand as he ties the sleeve to his arm and he slips out through the same window he came from. He looks up at the mountain’s he’s scaled before setting on the tallest one. One so tall the elders say that it could reach celestia.

As he scales the mountain he can feel a taint tug on his thumb, before it slowly disappears. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, breathes in deeply, and continues upwards.

The Golden-Winged King

One of his first adepti duties was to investigate the place he once knew as his home. There had been a dream eating demon that had been spreading curses onto unsuspecting youths. Putting them into eternal sleep before they bodies finally succumbed and they passed away. It was horrible and Alatus swore he would do everything in his power to make the dream demon suffer. Unfortunely, seeing as this was his first time venturing out back into the moral world and still recovering from his trials, he was assigned to work with a senior anemo adepti. One who was well-versed in using polearms that could “show him the ropes” as mortals would say.

This other adepti was too loud and erratic for his tastes compared to the calm and peaceful friend he once knew. Always getting side-tracked and flying around Alatus like some overgrown pixie. Never taking anything serious even though the both of you were tasked to destroy evil. But he held his tongue since this was his senior, gripping his sleeve when he was especially annoyed. This only seemed to spur the other anemo adepti further and inquire about the sleeve. Naturally, Alatus was hostile and guarded. That was first time he ever raised his voice which instead of becoming offended or angry, the other adepti was impressed.

From then on the other adepti seemed to want to interact with Alatus at any given moment. From checking in with him on his latest mission or if he heard about how the delicious flowers tasted. Who even ate flowers? Either way, every instance of communication was brushed aside, he would always make some weak excuse that he needed to train. Which lead to the other challenging him. The both of you were the same element so it would be a good time to see who was the best at wielding it. Overtime he began to look forward to your weekly spars. Even finding a bit of joy out of them. Ever since he had climbed up the mountain it had been constant training and hardships but when it came to these spars. It was fun. Alatus began to open his heart a tiny bit, let’s himself relax and fall into amusement when he see’s his partner’s face pop over him as they hovered over him.

He even began to feel his locked up heart start to beat a bit faster whenever he saw his partner perk up and wave at him. Whenever you threw your arm around him he never brushed you off like he used to, just basked in your presence as you rambled about how this stuck up bird was running everyone through the ground with her demands. It was amusing for fresh adepti’s to see you both interact. The ever stoic and aloof Alatus that taught them through strict rules loosen up immediately and smile whenever your head popped up to scold him for his training methods.

It was fun. Until the day he became possessed and killed you with your own weapon.

Guardian Yaksha

Guizhong was concerned. Ever since Rex Lapis had saved the poor adepti man from his possession, he had locked himself in. He still fulfilled his duties with alarming accuracy but it seemed that he completely on auto-pilot. He could stand in the pouring rain without realizing it or he always seemed to be in such a rush. Asking to do anything that needed to be done rather than relax. He was going to end up running through his long years at this rate. She brought it up to Rex Lapis and his fellow Yaksha but none of them had the time or want to check in on him. It was a time of war after all. Except one.

You watch him stand in the rain. Any attempts from you or Guizhong to ask if he was better always failed and you didn’t want to push. But this was already past the point of simple concern. So the next time you saw him relapse you walked over and embraced him. He usually carried himself as stiff as possible but you swore you were holding one of Rex Lapis’s pillars. You braced yourself to get thrown off or at the very least be questioned but none of those things happened. He just stood there and to be honest, you weren’t sure if that was even more concerning. You both didn’t say anything even when the rain stopped until Rex Lapis had summoned you both over.

You and him never developed a close friendship but he never seemed to brush you away whenever you sat beside him ever since you hugged him in the rain. A bare acknowledgement on good days but that was alright. Just sitting in each other’s presence when the war wanted to be quiet somedays was nice. On harder days when fighting took too much of a toll on your body you would lean your head on his shoulder. He never shrugged you off or seemed bothered by it, in fact, it almost seemed as if he leaned back against you. You both never spoke during these moments, just a silent understanding looming over you both.

Then when Morax announced that Guizhong had passed away, you felt as if you somewhat understood how Xiao felt. You didn’t even register that you had walked back to the same place Xiao was standing back when he was in the rain. The war was finally over but after everything that had happened to get to this point, it was hard. You knew that a few of your other Yaksha’s were ready to return to Jueyun Karst or return to earth. You blink quickly as you feel two arms wrap around you and you realize how funny fate seems to be. You choke out some unintelligible noise that’s a mix between a laugh and a sob as you cling onto him and let your bottled up emotions pour out.

He’s the last person you see in the newly established Liyue, wishing him luck in the rest of his journey, as you return to the earth. You aren’t sure what you’ll turn into but you hope that the peaceful atmosphere you both created will remain.

Xiao

It was completely out of the blue when you asked if he wanted to come on an adventure with you. You were both sitting under the tree that held the Wangshu inn up when you suddenly sat up and pointed in some far off direction across Liyue. Asked if he wanted to come with you after the lantern festival was over. He was a bit taken aback, you were a traveler first and foremost but you never asked if he wanted to come with you. You had always assumed that he wanted to stay as a protector of Liyue but after what Morax, now Zhongli, had said and how it was time to him to step down. You decided to ask him. It didn’t have to be far, you both could go to the stone gate if he wanted, just if he wanted to come with you anywhere.

His first instinct is to decline but you end up cutting him off before he can say anything.

“I know you have your reasons and loyalties to stay as Liyue’s protector. That’s why I’m not asking for you to accompany me across Teyvat. But I don’t know when I’m going to be back and after what happened in Liyue, I thought it would be nice to just, take a break, and go anywhere. You don’t have to accompany me if you don’t want to but I think it’d be nice to wander together,” you say as you continue to look across the land from the balcony. He can’t see where you’re looking at exactly but he ponders your words.

To wander and go anywhere. Just the two of you. He’s never even considered leaving Liyue even after all the demons were replaced with weak hilichurls and slimes. He gazes up at the tree’s leaves, looks further to see celestia, and even further back to his home. Guizhong always said he needed to relax and live in the moment of now rather than running past everything but was he really ready for that?

“Ah, sorry was that a bit too forward? I really didn’t mean anything ba-”

“Yes. Let’s go,” Xiao cuts you off as his eyes shine in a new light of determination, “Wherever you want to go, I will come with you.”

You blink once, twice, before a bright grin stretch's across your face as you quickly ask if he’s joking. He’s not, and you cheer excitedly as you list off different places you’ve wanted to explore. Perhaps the shoal? Maybe even further into the chasm? Actually wait, the electro archon has closed that area off so maybe not there. Xiao patiently listens to you ramble as he smiles softly. Your excitement is addicting and he can feel his heart flutter just a bit. How long has it been since he felt this way? He can feel a small tug on his thumb, he looks down but he can’t see anything, but there’s a comfortable weight that he’s felt has been missing for a very long time.

---

If this seems interesting and people seem to enjoy it, I can post the actual fic when Xiao banner drops as a bit of a catalyst. It’s basically the same idea. Though it’s kinda long so I have no idea when that’s going to be finished. It might turn into a thank you gift instead. (or ahem, you know, if you wanna commission me and see it earlier there’s that haha just kidding;;).

Honestly, I took a lot of liberties. I read the lore on adepti and Xiao but most of this is my monkey brain and previous semi xiao fics (which you don’t have to read but it would be helpful to see extended parts). Phew, this took a lot of time. It’s not as cute as my other fics but hopefully you all enjoyed it^^

Actually, nevermind. I hate this. I’ll keep it up since I haven’t posted this week yet but I hate this.

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pitaparka · 3 years

Text

when he’s sick headcanons

note — can you tell i was in a francisco morales mood when i wrote this? also, i’m incredibly soft. i just wanna hold them :’( also also send me your own headcanons!! i wanna hear ‘em!! big love <3 - nat

MANDO

- he doesn’t know how he survived all those bouts of sickness alone when you step in to help him for the first time

- his body aches, and not the usual after-bounty-capture either

- his head is foggy, he can feel the sweat in his helmet, and his breathing is hard

- he can’t tell if it’s coming through the modulator, but when you bring soup up to the cockpit for him, he knows you know

- he takes it gratefully, knowing that if there was nobody else here he would have just gone to bed to sleep it off, dinner vetoed for the night

- your cold fingers wrap around the back of his neck, moving his cape as you do so, and he melts into you

- he doesn’t know that he lets out the smallest whimper when you do this, and it makes you want to tear off his helmet, pull him into your arms, and hold him until he’s better

- but you can’t, so you settle for a hand on his neck, and the tilt of a helmet when he drinks the soup in front of you, as requested

- he definitely has a fever, and maker knows what else

- so you tell him to get some rest, that you’d watch the ship and get him if anything went wrong

- you supervise him down the ladder, just in case, which he finds funny and sweet

- you wish you could squish into his bunk with him, but you don’t want to invade on his personal space, especially while he’s hot and sick

- you you settle into the cockpit, the ship on cruise control, and you check on him every once in a while, keeping grogu occupied and quiet while he gets some well deserved rest

EZRA

- you knew he would get it

- right after you recovered from your illness, he started displaying symptoms of the same one you had just gotten over

- shortness of breath, fever, aches, lethargy

- he had taken such good care of you, so it was only fair that you’d do the same in return

- resources were sparse and quarters were cramped on the green, but you did what you could to make him as comfortable as possible

- his feverish back was pressed up against your chest in a cot designed for one after he’d stripped down to his underwear to avoid overheating

- he really enjoyed you being the big spoon sometimes, and now was one of those times

- when he got too hot from your shared body heat though, you would sit on the floor next to the cot and stroke right behind his ear to get him to fall asleep

- you made sure he ate as much as he could keep down, and you gave him all the fluids you could spare for his speedy recovery

- it broke your heart to see your usually verbose boy so quiet and in pain

- he muttered fever nonsense to no one and whimpered in his sleep

- you moved your cot directly next to his in order to keep a close eye on him

- but you knew that with time he would heal, and that as soon as he started talking to you again he was getting better

FRANKIE

- he sweats through the sheets next to you in the early hours of the night

- you’re the one who wakes up first, and you honestly thought one of you had wet the bed because of how much liquid there was

- but you realize that it’s frankie, back drenched and sweating out whatever flu he had acquired from whoever he had gotten it from

- you wake him from what seemed to be a not great dream anyway, and when he realizes what happened, he apologizes, groggy from sleep and illness

- “no, no! i’m not mad, frankie, you just can’t sleep in this sweetheart. you’ll get more sick. how are you feeling?”

- he curls up deeper under the covers and you get out of bed to kneel next to him

- your hands card through his matted, sweat soaked hair, and you wipe the drops from his jaw

- “do you want a cool shower, baby? you’re soaked.” you suggest, but frankie is so out of it

- he was fine last night, you remember

- sure he didn’t eat dinner, and went to bed early, but you thought maybe he had a late lunch and a long day

- now, helping him out of bed to the shower, you understand that it was early onset symptoms of whatever he was battling

- he pressed heavily to your side and you’re nervous as you strip him down and get him into the tub

- he sways, and you’re not sure what you’ll do if he passes out, or hits his head, so you sit him down, take off the shower head, make sure the water coming out is room temperature, and you run she showerhead over his overheating body

- you’re careful not to get any water in his face and ears, and you don’t wash his hair, just his body with a gentle soap

- you figure this is one of the only times frankie will let you take care of him like this, so you milk it for all it’s worth

- you blow dry his hair on a low setting, just in case he has a headache, you change the sheets of your bed, you lay him down on his side and you bring him close to your chest

- which is how he falls asleep for the next few nights until his illness eventually subsides

WHISKEY

- he curls up in your lap on the couch as soon as he gets home from work, which is how you know something’s wrong

- but you ask him anyway

- “i don’t feel so great, sugar,”

- which scares you, because did he get drugged? is this just a regular illness? is this like a biowarfare mission gone wrong?

- you leave him to get the thermometer, and when you come back, he’s got sad eyes looking up at you that just break your heart

- turns out, it’s not biowarfare. just a fever of 100.4

- you slip your hands up the back of his shirt and it’s so warm, along with his forehead

- he moans weakly at your touch, worn and tired from his extensive mission that day

- he’s definitely been overexerting himself

- as you settle back onto the couch, he settles into your lap again

- you let him rest for a while, but not after long, you realize he’s fallen asleep, and you’re stuck there for god knows how long

- you turn the volume down on the tv just in case, and you stroke behind his ears and you play with his fingers

- it’s best to just let him sleep it off, and you're not opposed to letting him do it on your lap

- you imagine there are statesman resources you can use to help him, but if he’s feeling better after he’s slept it off, then maybe you won’t need to misuse them

JAVIER PEÑA

- you scared the shit out of him, knocking on his door like that

- in your blinding rage, filled with thoughts like “how dare he take the day off to bang hookers, to recover from his hangover, to generally be a hindrance to the fucking DEA,” you had not pondered the possibility that THE javier peña, was sick

- he’s pulling on a t-shirt just as he opens the door, wearing pajama pants, and it startles you to see him so disarmed and casual

- his eyes and nose are red, his hair is disheveled, and he looks... exhausted

- “wow, you look like shit."

- “i feel like shit,” he says, walking away from the door, sniffling

- you take this as an invitation in, and close the door behind you

- he collapses back onto his couch, where you assume he’s been all day, and wraps himself up in a thick afghan blanket

- his hands shake the slightest bit as he opens his lighter to ignite his cigarette

- you take a seat next to him and help him with his lighter, and he nods his thanks to you

- “you’re gonna be late,” he mutters, taking the cigarette from his mouth and blowing out smoke into his apartment, coughing it out halfway

- “i’ll call out,” you offer, eyes wandering up his blanket clad body

- he closes his eyes and lets his head rest on the back of the couch

- “go in. i’m just gonna sleep it off anyway,”

- you lean in close to him and press your hand against his forehead and he freezes, staring at you

- you run your hand down his neck and feel his warmth, and he melts into your touch just a little bit

- you offer to only call out for a few hours to get him settled and make sure he doesn’t die or something, and he lets you, simply because he knows his illness will only get worse

- when your time is up and you have to go back to work, javi’s eaten, gotten some fluids in him, and taken some pain meds

- you let him know that he can call you if he needs anything, and before you even walk out the door is sleeping contently on the couch

MARCUS MORENO

- you find out he’s sick when he calls you, and asks for a favor

- “hey, can you do me the biggest favor ever?”

- he’s super congested. at first you think it might not be him because of how grainy his voice is

- “i hate to do this to you on such short notice, but would you be able to pick up missy? i’m not feeling too hot right now.”

- when you make it back to their home, it's very clear why he thought he wouldn't be able to make it

- he's curled up in bed, tissues piled on his nightstand, trying to get some sleep, but clearly failing

- he notices the two of you come in, and you quietly usher missy away to her own room to entertain herself while her dad tries to get some rest

- he thanks you for picking up missy, and you tell him you'd be there for him whenever he needed you to be

- you make a special phone call as you care for marcus, keeping his curtains closed and running your cool hands up and down his back and shoulders until he felt like he could fall asleep

- you let him know that you'll be right back, that you were going to pick up a few things for him and that if he needed anything at all, just call

- knowing your chicken noodle soup skills were rusty, your special phone call had been to marcus' mother's house, where she had tupperware containers full of soup waiting for you to pick up for him

- when you get back to his house with pain meds, gatorade, and the soup, marcus is passed out in bed

- you don't want to wake him up, but you have a hunch that he hasn't eaten all day, so you whisper his name softly and lightly shake him awake

- he's so grateful and only eats a portion of what he normally does, but anything is better than nothing

- and you don't want him feeling even more sick as a result

- you end up eating the incredibly nostalgic and rich soup with missy at the table and talk to her about your day while marcus gets some sleep

MARCUS PIKE

- it's only when you get home from work that you realize something's wrong with marcus

- he's asleep on the couch

- which would have been fine, if you had worked overtime, or had gotten out late, but it was only four thirty

- plus, you two had planned on going to see a movie you he was excited about tonight in theatres and maybe grab dinner after

- the tv plays lowly in the background, and he hasn’t changed out of his work clothes yet

- he startles when you close and lock the door, and rubs his temples, eyes squeezed shut in pain

- "marcus, are you okay?"

- "yeah, i'm fine." he tells you, and when you mention the date, he looks shocked that he forgot about it

- "oh my god, you're right. i can’t believe i forgot, i’m so sorry babe, i'll get ready right now."

- you tell him it's no biggie, but he insists

- after you've taken off your work clothes and showered quickly for your date, you realize the two of you are most definitely staying in

- he's promptly fallen back asleep on the couch, and he looks adorable

- you put on your pajamas and he does too, and you settle into the couch behind marcus, flipping through channels with him

- he says he doesn't care what you watch, as long as it's not too bright or loud

- so you choose some old black and white movie with the subtitles on

- normally you're the one between his legs, as he rubs your shoulders and plays with your hair

- but this time, he's curled up into you, his back pressed up against your chest, his head tucked into your shoulder using it as a pillow

- you figure you didn't really want to see the new movie anyway, and decide takeout and casablanca was a better way to spend your time with your sick boyfriend

MAX PHILLIPS

- a big baby

- but he IS a vampire and DOES NOT get sick, which slips your mind completely when you come home after some overtime and find him paler than usual on the couch, his head in his hands

- you try to get him to tell you what’s wrong, and he refuses, but he caves when you sit down next to him and start stroking his head, and playing with the hair at the base of his neck

- he tells you that after the whole vampire fiasco with the company, he was set for a while, and has been feeling great, but he hasn’t had human blood in so long that it’s made him weak

- he gives you a sad puppy dog look, and you know he’s being an asshole about it, but you hate to see the dark circles under his eyes or the color his skin turns when he’s like this

- so you oblige, but you give him STRICT instructions to follow, otherwise you won’t do it again

- don’t take more than a pint, don’t leave unnecessary bruises, if you use your safe word he has to stop immediately, and he has to make it as quick and painless as he possibly can

- he nods enthusiastically, and pulls you into his lap

- he nuzzles into your neck, and grabs your chin, anchoring himself to you

- he blows softly on your skin, and presses hard kisses to the area to get your blood flowing and disarm you

- which isn’t fair because he knows your neck is so sensitive

- it’s a sharp prick when he ejects his fangs into your body and you stop moving completely, your hand fisting at his shirt, just listening to your breathing and his soft moans echoed against your skin

- out of habit your rub soothing circles into his back, more to sooth yourself then anything

- minutes pass, and you start to feel light headed and are about to tell him to stop when he pulls away, grinning ear to ear at you

- he’s back on your neck in seconds though, licking and sucking the leaking blood from the small holes he’s left in your skin

- now that, that feels much better than the bloodsucking that was going on originally

- you jump when he presses soft kisses to the sensitive area along your throat and dives a hand between your legs

- looks like someone’s feeling better already

MAX LORD

- tries to power through it as much as he can with pain killers and cough syrups, but after he almost passes out at dinner after a week of symptoms, you beg him to take at least a day off to recover

- that morning, his hair is a mess, he missed a button on his shirt, and his tie was uneven

- he was about to put on two different colored socks when he begrudgingly obliges

- you unbutton his shirt and help him take off his tie

- it’s easy to bring him back to bed after that, and you let him hold you from behind like a teddy bear, no matter how uncomfortable his arm is shoved under your neck

- usually he likes to be held, but he can feel his own back burning up, so he decides to hold you instead

- he whimpers in his sleep, plagued by fever dreams and his traumatic past

- so when he wakes you up in the middle of the night, something he so very rarely does, you’re concerned

- “i’m sorry, for waking you, i just... i just need... you... i want—“

- it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out he needs a hug

- you hold him and rub his back until he falls back asleep again, in your arms

- when he wakes up with a killer headache, you fight to keep him in bed again, rubbing his temples and pressing kisses to his forehead

- he falls back asleep in less than five minutes

- needless to say, one more day off couldn’t hurt

OBERYN MARTELL

- it’s not often than he gets sick, surprisingly, considering how close he gets to so many different people

- when you arrive at his chambers that morning, the guards seem keen on not letting you in

- you argue with them, but they insist oberyn didn’t want anyone in there

- you call them out, obviously upset and visibly frustrated when his doors creak open and you see him, in a robe, hair messy and pressed down to his forehead

- he quietly tells the guard to let you in, and you’re a little confused

- he sits down on his bed and looks up at you with guilty eyes

- “apologies, my love, but I don't want you to see me like this”

- you scoff and roll your eyes at him, moving in front of him

- you take his head in your hands, and he stares up at you

- “apology accepted, but i’m offended, my prince.”

- he scrunches his eyebrows and presses his chin to your stomach

- you run your hands through his hair and he brings his hands to your waist

- “you think mere illness could keep me away? keep me away from you?”

- his confusion melts into a small smile, and he lets his head rest against your belly as you pull him into you

- “can i get you anything, oberyn? wine, medicine?”

- “no, my love. just you is enough for me.”

PERO TOVAR

- wants to be left alone for the most part

- grumpy in general, and it doesn't get better when he's sick

- he'll let you wipe a cool cloth over his forehead and neck, and doesn't complain

- he says he doesn’t want you there because he doesn’t want you to catch what he has

- you know, survival rates are low for things like this at this point in history

- but really, like oberyn, he doesn’t want you to see him weak

- he’s afraid it’ll ruin your image of him in your mind

- william asks you to get some rest, as they can’t afford to risk more days at the campsite with sick travelers

- so you oblige, keeping your distance from pero, but you stay vigilant

- you stand guard for him for most of the night, listening to him breathe, watching his chest rise and fall, until you eventually fall asleep too

- but you’re up early, with the rest of the men, except pero, who sleeps well into daylight

- the rest of them take off, desperate to find something for dinner, but you stay back with him, stroking his forehead, a gentleness that’s rarely ever been afforded to him, listening to him ramble half in english, half in spanish, but he has your full attention

- it would be a rough few days until he recovered, but his muttered thanks and appreciation for you was more than enough for you to do it all over again if he ever needed you to

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twelfth-harbinger · 3 years

Note

Hello, I hope you're doing great! ^^ Could I request a Kaeya x male Reader, where the reader is a thief and Kaeya cathes him and teaches him a lesson (nsfw)

A/n: I live for this shit. This is...kind of kinky so.. & I wrote this at 4am. Listening to: Throat babyyyyyy

Mentions: Blowjobs, Denial, Teasing... blowjobs.

Warnings: Nsfw Face fucking at its finest, A very dominant Kaeya.

The King of Thieves

Kaeya left Angel’s Share for the night. Dark cheeks tinted a dusty deep red from a night of indulgence. Diluc was there, tending the bar coincidentally.

“There have been a plethora of incidents revolving around thieves as of late. I suggest you be mindful when leaving for the night Kaeya.”

His younger brother’s light warning drifted back into the depths of his mind as he strolled the nearly vacant streets of Monstadt’s city. Of course, on his way back to headquarters; the Knight took the long way around. Cutting through a specific alleyway that lead to a patch of grassy plains above a stone stair case. Out the corner of his eye he saw a shadow zip by and over the short roof top of someone’s home. As he moved to take a precautionary step backwards the shadow figure landed behind him. Assuming Kaeya was drunk enough to one up, the figure moved in to grab Kaeya’s shoulder in efforts to flip him onto his back and steal his vision. Kaeya, in a rebuttal too quick for this thief’s skill set. Side stepped and ducked, only to elbow his assailant in the chest cavity and then reappear behind them with his sword drawn.

“Why is Diluc always right?” Kaeya sighed, a frown on his face as he stared at the person in front of him, whom he had knocked the wind right out of. He wasn’t sure who the person was, given they were covered from head fo toe in all black. When Kaeya saw that they were recovering he twirled his sword, knocking them unconscious with the hilt of his blade. When the thief dropped, Kaeya looked down at them. He moved to uncover their face and saw a young man. He saw, you? His eye went wide, you were not much older than Diluc. The young Knight couldn’t help but think it was a shame to see such wasted potential resort to something of a scoundrel at best. He threw your arm over his shoulder, picking you up with a deep exhale. Effortlessly carrying you off back to one of the empty confinement cells within the knights headquarters. The one he picked out had been out of use for quite some time, given Klee had blown it up rendering the cell unlivable (for her). — It was a perfect place for a thief, especially one that tried to steal his vision.

Kaeya sat on the edge of a small table in the corner of the room, arms crossed and a light frown on his face. He waited until you had come through and regained consciousness. In a panic, your dark eyes darted across the room. Something Kaeya found quite amusing.

“Where..am I?” You huffed out, there was a draft in the room and you visibly shivered. Kaeya stayed seated looking at you.

“In the Knights of Favonius’ HQ, a confinement cell to be more precise.” He replied nonchalantly and as you tried to move, chains rattled against your wrists and ankles.

“Let me out of here, else you’ll be sorry—“

You were cut off by Kaeya’s abrupt laugh, it made you frown and your brow crease. “What’s so fuckin’ funny?” Kaeya’s chuckle faded into a sigh, his finger tapping idly on the bicep of his crossed arms.

“Nothing, it’s just you are in no position to talk. In fact, I bet if I did away with you right here I could get away with it.” His smile may have been playful but his eye hinted at something much darker.

“You.. can’t do that, you’re an honor bound knight it would be a disgrace—“ Kaeya smiled, this time it wasn’t playful but it still held amusement.

“Relax I’m not a barbarian. Why don’t you tell me why you tried to rob me in the middle of an alleyway and most interestingly... try to take my vision.” After Kaeya stated his questions there was a stagnant silence that sat in the stale air of the confinement cell. Kaeya looked down at you, who shifted uncomfortably. “Oh? No answer? Are you sure that’s what you wish to do?” Your eyes drifted over to look up at Kaeya. Who moved from his spot on the table to walk towards you. In the dim light of the cell his features illuminated, it may have been the full moon that peeked through the barred window that made him look so appealing. The sound of his boots tapping down on the stone floors of the cell sent a slight chill down your spine. He towered over you as you sat on the floor. A light smirk threatened the corner of his lips, as he stared down at you with a quizzical eye. The air around him was cool and it seemed to get even colder as he knelt down to eye level. “I think I’ll give you until the count of say- three.” He held up three fingers before putting them down.

“What?”

“One.” He moved his hand behind your head almost as if he was cradling you. Unbeknownst to you his sword appeared in his palm. Your side profile reflected off the blade as it drew near your head. “Two.” His voice was deep and melodic and his tone evermore serious as he counted down. He wasn’t smiling anymore, seeing him this serious started giving you second thoughts about keeping your mouth shut. He was so close you could smell him, eye half lidded as he stared down at you and a crease in his brow. Against the back of your neck your hair brushed against the blade that dangerously kissed the skin of the nape of your neck. He leaned in and as he drew near, a light grin forming at his lips. Was he enjoying the reaction he was getting out of you? Or the interrogation process? Your hand pressed against his chest to try and move him back you couldn’t stand to have him that close. He paused for a split second, his eye dropping down to your hand, it was warm. “Thre-“

“Wait!” You say, your dark eyes shifting up to peer into his. Staring at him this closely, being able to smell him. It was hard not to think about the things you wanted him to do to you while sitting helpless on the cell floor. He was ridiculously attractive and equally as intimidating when he wished to be.

“Hm? Did you change your mind?” He asked, flashing a cold smile. Your cheeks flushed, he smelled like the first snow fall of winter, shamelessly it made blood rush to where you didn’t need it to. His eyes drifted down briefly before he looked at you more closely. “Or maybe you didn’t?” He purred lightly and a smile crossed his face again.

“I-I..I was just.. curious as to what it’s like to have a vision I don’t have one.” You spoke out, Kaeya didn’t sense a lie from you. Even as you continued to try and make him feel sorry for you. “I haven’t been blessed by the Archons. I’m poor and I...I can’t do much of anything let alone use a vision. Being a thief is all I’ve ever known. The only way I know to survive. I wasn’t going to hurt you.” His brow creased as you babbled that last part, you caught yourself and spoke sheepishly. “Not..that I could’ve anyway—“ Kaeya laughed again, he moved back but not very far. His sword disappeared in one swift movement and he took a minute to look at you. Your hands moved over to your lap, you didn’t think he noticed.

“What am I going to do with you hm?” He pondered aloud as he stood up, a hand resting on his hip. He stared down at you, “You assaulted me in an alleyway, tried to rob me and now..” You couldn’t help but think it wasn’t much of an assault, you were the one who got hit square in the chest and knocked unconscious after all.

“Kaeya-“

“And you know who I am? You’re quite the bold thief. Tell me if I let you go, how do I know you won’t do it again?” You shifted uncomfortably, nothing he was saying was arousing but, truthfully you fell victim to his charm the moment he began questioning you, not to mention the count down and intimidation attempt. Kaeya noticed, he was quite observant but he was doing his job- for the most part.

“I won’t.” You lied, he saw right through it. Kaeya crossed his arms again, if he felt any remorse for you before it was gone now. You avoided eye contact with him even as he stared down at you.

“Do you like being chained up in a cell, you’re excited.” He asked genuinely, his voice was soft and curious. It made you twitch uncomfortably. You shook your head and Kaeya tilted his. “Really? Your as hard as this stone floor, I wasn’t going to tease you about it but it only...fed into every words I’ve said to you thus far.” You could hear him smile, you made the mistake of looking up at him. He was gorgeous and the blush that crossed your face made his smile widen.

“I..can’t help how you’re making me feel. You’re just-“

“I’m just what?” He cut you off, moving his hand to rest on the top of your head. He gently ran his fingers through your hair with his gloved palm. Idly moving his hand down to the back of your head before gripping the ends of your hair between his fingers. “Were you going to say charming? Sexy, hot?” He asked, his grip on your hair wasn’t that tight or painful it aroused a light whimper to fall from your lips. Kaeya noticed your hand palming your growing erection — your pants were growing tighter you couldn’t help it. With his boot he kicked your hand away and stepped on the back of your hand, causing the restraints he had you in to rattle against the stone floor. “You did something bad why should you gain pleasure after committing a crime? As I see it I’m the victim here. You assaulted me in an alleyway.” His grin was wide and with his free hand he moved to unzip his pants. Immediately your mouth began to water as he slipped his hand inside to touch himself right before your very eyes.

“I-I won’t do it again..” You lied once again and he saw through it yet again. His grin only widened, he was going to enjoy this.

“I don’t believe you, therefore...” His grip tightened in your hair and he pulled your head back. “I think I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget.” The weight he had on your hand increased when he saw you try to move your other hand to slip inside your own pants, it was a warning not to try and relieve yourself. You moved your hand away with a whine as Kaeya freed himself from the tight confines of his trousers. His thick member prodded against your cheek before he let it rest on your lips. He let out a light and playful hum as he stared down at you, almost as if he was beckoning you to open your mouth.

“Kaeya I-“ As soon as you opened your mouth he pushed himself inside, the taste of his pre made you shudder and your eyes flutter. He held your hair and head firmly in place as he thrusted deeper into your mouth. He was genuinely surprised that you were able to take him all the way to the back of your throat.

“It’s not polite to speak with your mouth full.” He teased. “Go on, keep stuffing your face thief.” As you struggled to swallow his cock, you couldn’t stop your hand from reaching down to palm the hard tent in your pants. Kaeya caught wind of your actions and knocked your forearm to the side with his other boot. The deep groan you let out reverberated against his shaft, Kaeya had to bite back his own moan as he pulled your hair again which inevitably moved your head back so your lips wrapped around his tip. “If you do it again you’ll regret it.” He wasn’t smiling when he spoke, it was a threat you weren’t going to see through to the end. Kaeya chuckled lightly and moved his free hand down to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing sweetly against your cheekbone. “You’re so obedient...”

He mumbled, his touch was gentle as he moved his hands up to tangle in your hair. It was almost too gentle and had you questioning his motives. You made eye contact with him and a sly grin spread across his face like wildfire. Without warning his grip tightened to hold your head in place. He slammed hips against your face, bottoming out completely in the back of your tight throat. He groaned out quietly and under his breath, as the ridges of your throat and mouth constricted against his thick shaft. Your soft lips tickled the underside of the base of his cock. His pants sagged and his balls pressed against the stubble of your chin, which only edged him on and reflexively urged his hips to thrust against your face. He exhaled with a light chuckle that sifted through the quiet air of the confinement cell.

You whimpered, drooling all over his cock as you squeezed your eyes shut, it took everything in you not to milk and pump your shaft. Your balls were heavy and full and you ached for a release that you didn’t think you’d get. Kaeya looked down on you to subconsciously check to see if you were okay and to see the sight of his dick disappearing down your throat. He pulled back by a few centimeters and you successfully breathed in through your nose. The taste of his pre on your tongue reminded you of a fermented apple wine. None too surprising to say the least and all the more enjoyable.

Kaeya rutted into your mouth again, you choked and he chuckled. He felt your tongue swirl around his shaft against a prominent vein that curved up from the base of his cock. Your leg twitched in need as he moved, beginning a rough and steady rhythm. He noticed the bulge in your throat, it only made him move faster. Kaeya let out deep exhale and a light moan that was simply music to your ears. His head tilted back as you took him, he glanced down at you for a moment and his lips curled into a smile seeing you hard at work.

“If your mouth is this tight, I wonder how your ass must feel.” He teased you, moving one hand down to wipe away that inevitable tears that formed in your eyes. His other hand loosened in your hair but still rested in place idly. He pulled back completely, giving you a chance to breathe. As you caught your breath Kaeya looked down at you, the blush that stained your cheeks inflated his ego a bit. He arched a brow, waiting for you to keep going.

You gave into that cute, suggestive stare and moved your hand up to stroke him; something you wanted to do for yourself since he started fucking talking. You dragged your tongue along the thick length of his member before taking him into your mouth. What you didn’t choke down, you pumped with your hand. Kaeya finally let out a proper moan it was deep and breathy, he started throbbing in your mouth and palm; biting down on his lower lip in ecstasy. In the midst of milking him dry he took hold of your hair again, only to push himself right back down your throat, he needed that tight fit to finish him off. You were going to swallow it all, not that you minded; he was as inebriating as Everclear. As he filled your throat and mouth, he pulled back his warm cum dripping down your chin. He watched you reach up to wipe it away and lick the back of your hand.

His eye drifted down to your continually throbbing erection, he noticed a dark spot where your own pre had ruined your trousers. He stepped back and moved his hand away from your hair, shifting as he pulled his pants up only to zip them up. Your expression was absolutely priceless in his eyes. You opened your mouth to speak to find that your jaw was already sore from his earlier actions. Kaeya moved to sit on the edge of the table again with a light smile on his face.

“What?” He says like he didn’t just pump his seed down your throat. He made an ‘O’ with his mouth as he looked at your disheveled and needy appearance as if he had forgotten. He didn’t. He moved to toss you a key to the restraints you were in. “You’re free to go and...do something about that.” He smiled with a teasing glint in his eye, you looked at the key in front of you. Picking it up with a frown on your face as your freed yourself. “I told you I’d teach you lesson you wouldn’t forget.” He chuckled moving to cross his arms over his chest. You looked at him and he smirked.

“Asshole.” You mumbled, moving to stand up, Kaeya looked your way not feeling remorseful in the slightest.

“You do realize you tried to assault me and steal my vision. I think I let you off rather easy if you ask me. Going straight to Jean just didn’t feel right.” He quipped, and stood to walk over to the door opening it up for you to go. “I don’t want to see you here again, I’d rather the Cat’s Tail or Angel share preferably. Maybe then you’d get a proper..reward and the aftercare I so graciously give to those who listen.” He said, completely insinuating he wanted to see you again under the right circumstances. With a pout you exited the cell, there wasn’t really much you could say to that. You were indeed happy you didn’t have to spend the night in a dingy unlivable cell. Kaeya leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms. “Till we meet again King of Thieves.”

Bonus

A week went by, you were at Sara’s sitting down to a late night meal before heading off to Springvale for a few days to visit family. You poked at the fisherman’s toast you ordered, thinking about the Knight who left you thoroughly frustrated. You wanted to beat his ass in all honesty but, apart of you just wanted to—

“Well if it isn’t The King of Thieves.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact kaeya #genshin impact kaeya x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin kaeya #gi kaeya #genshin impact imagines #kaeya imagines #kaeya genshin impact #kaeya x reader #kaeyagenshinimpact #I love Kaeya lmao #sooo I’m writing something called the contract with Zhongli anddddddd 👀

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talkfastromance4 · 3 years

Text

stuck with u-- calum hood oneshot

a/n: hii! so this came outta left field but I went with it. based off of ariana grande’s song with justin bieber. very loosely edited, but yeah, I hope you like it :)

word count: 4,111

warnings: mentions of quarantine, a break up, sweet moments, male receiving oral, female receiving oral, spitting, unprotected sex, funny sexual moments

Masterlist

Feedback is always welcome and enjoy! :)

• • • •

She came over to return his box of things, giving herself a pep talk before she did. It’s a few days before their new album releases and two weeks before touring begins. They always had an expiration date, this she knew, but she hadn’t put into consideration how badly it would sting.

Like any normal couple, they had their ups and downs with minor arguments here and there, but their stubbornness was the same. Neither one of them wanting to give in first left them each brooding in their separate corners until the bell struck for another round of heated words then they’d stalk off to their respective corners again.

It was a cycle that kept cycling until her eyes filled with tears or the steam finally sizzled out from them both. In exchange of heated words were the remaining apologies, words of kindness, and a conclusion to whatever their fight had been about.

She’s at a stoplight, Halsey’s magical voice surrounds her in her car, and she glances to the box in the passenger seat. A small notebook lays on top that holds small poems or songs he wrote for her, about her. It was given to her on her birthday, but she couldn’t keep it now, not when their time is up. Next to the notebook is his green Empathy hoodie she stole awhile ago and on top of that is a small stuffed bear he won at a fair.

A car horn pulls her from her reverie, and she continues the familiar roads to his house. After dropping off his things and getting hers back from him, she was heading back home to spend time with her family so the back part of her car was full of duffel bags and her pillows.

She stares at his house, suddenly it seems so daunting as memories swim in her head. Countless nights of wandering through the front door after a night out or at Michael and Crystal’s for a small party. Mornings of coffee and breakfast created by him filled with whipped cream and syrupy kisses. Her eyes sting with tears and she shakes her head quickly. She promised herself she wouldn’t cry another tear over him.

She checks her phone to see a comforting message from Crystal of good luck and a safe drive home with many heart emojis.

“You can do this; you can do this. In and out and he’s behind you,” she mutters to herself then grabs his box of belongings.

Before she can ring the doorbell, he opens it and Duke is barking at his feet, jumping up on the glass trying to get to her, his fluffy tail wagging joyously at her return. Her heart falls, she’s going to miss Duke a lot. Calum opens the door.

“Hey,” he greets, his voice gruff and scratchy. She hopes he’s not starting to get sick; he needs to rest—

She stops herself short, it’s not her concern anymore.

“Hi,” she says quietly and enters the house. Her shoulder brushes his chest, they both tense and his aftershave invades her nose. The smell of him and him alone brings back more memories of cuddling by the fire, snuggling on the couch, walking up behind him while he’s making dinner and burying her face between his shoulder blades.

Duke continues to vie for her attention as she moves into the kitchen. The news is on with the volume down low, numbers and the word ‘China lockdown’ traveling across the bottom of the screen. She sets the box down on the counter with a thump then squats to her knees to give Duke a proper hello and goodbye.

“I’ll um, go get your stuff. Help yourself to something to drink.”

“I’m gonna miss your cuddles, Dukey,” she whispers to the old dog and kisses his nose. He licks her chin in return.

She stands and waits, not even bothering to get a drink because she doesn’t plan to stay long. Why does he want to prolong their goodbye? She leans against the counter waiting for Calum’s return and she realizes she’s in the same spot from months ago where she tried to prepare him dinner for once.

He was being exceptionally affectionate, lifting her arm so he could press his lips to her wrist then slowly down to her elbow—

“I think I have everything,” his voice startles her from the good memory. “I made sure you didn’t leave any of your books behind.”

“Thanks,” she gives him a grim smile taking the box from his hands. Their fingers brush, his heat always made her forever cold fingers warm. A shock ran through her fingertips.

The pair stare into their boxes respectively, shuffling through memories of their relationship.

“This isn’t mine,” Calum holds up the small notebook of songs and poems. “I gave this to you as a gift, Y/N.”

She stares at the book of words in his hand, words of love and light reserved for her only.

“I can’t keep it, Cal,” she whispers, eyes pooling with tears. She tries to blink them away and on instinct Calum moves forward. She backs up into the corner of the counter. “No, don’t. Please.”

“Y/N…”

“It’s hard enough, Cal, all right? I know our time was limited,” she crosses her arms over her chest, “but I’m still hurting and I’m probably going to hurt for a while longer.”

“You think I’m not hurting, too? This was—is the hardest breakup. I’m hurting, Y/N, I am.”

She risks a glance up at him to see the wounded look in his eyes. Calum shifts forward, his hands cradling her face gently in his palms, his forehead pressed to hers. She dares not to move, because once she touches him then it’s all over. There’s no way she could recover from that.

“Look at me,” his lips kiss her forehead, another stab at her heart. She shakes her head. “Baby—”

The news anchor’s voice interrupts their moment declaring the state of California has issued a lockdown effective immediately. No one is to leave their homes for any reason, no going to other houses, no contact with anyone. The world shut down and now they’re stuck together.

It’s awkward at first, moving her things from her car into his house. She decided to stay in the guest bedroom, no matter how badly she wanted to crawl into his bed and never leave. He was on the phone with the guys and management discussing what this means for their album release and tour well late into the night while she contacted her family.

She could do two weeks with her ex, nothing tricky about that, right?

She was wrong. The first week was rough, they bounced around each other like meteorites trying not to collide. When he’d walk around the house shirtless she had to force herself not to stare. More memories and the ache to run her fingers over his tattoos was too strong. They ate in separate rooms and tried to remain separate as much as possible.

She watched the live he did with the band for their album release, listening along with them and crying at songs she knew Calum wrote. Small nods to their relationship tugged at her heart.

The second week things were looking up because she would be leaving soon. The smell of him would linger on all of her clothes a lot longer now, but she needed to get out. She needed to get over him and that’s hard to do when you’re stuck under the same roof.

Plans had changed yet again, and she’d be with him a lot longer. Tour has been cancelled and in the process of being rescheduled as much as it can be. Calum has been stressed; she feels it radiating off him one morning while he’s sat at the kitchen table. His coffee cup is still full, his shoulders hunched to his neck from stress.

Without thinking, she moves behind him and rubs at his shoulders. He jumps at her touch but then relaxes into her touch, letting her remove the stress that she can from his muscles.

“D’you want to talk about it?” she asks softly.

“Not really,” he shakes his head then sighs. “There is something I’d like to talk about though…”

“Yeah?” her thumbs rub up his neck into his hairline, his blond hairline that he re-dyed for the wildflower music video that never got filmed.

“Can we talk about us?” he asks. Her hands still their motions in his hair.

“What about us?”

He spins around, her hands falling from his warm skin. He takes her hand in his, fingers linked together like so many times before, his brown eyes captivating her. He swallows harshly.

“We’ve got all this time on our hands, might as well cancel all our plans we had and spend it together,” he says.

“Even if it’s just you and me?” she strokes his cheek with the backs of her fingers.

“I can’t fight it anymore,” he shakes his head. “I thought it was hard before but it’s even harder now with you here. I don’t want to let you go.”

“So…what does this mean exactly?”

“It’s just you and me,” he rises to his feet taking her other hand in his. “It means whatever we want it to.”

“Let’s have a date night, a new start,” she offers.

“That sounds good,” he smiles.

At around six o’clock, they meet in the kitchen wearing comfy clothes. Something they both agreed on to make the night even easier and more comfortable. She had on one of his shirts with shorts and socks that went up to her knees. He had on basketball shorts and a blue t-shirt; he remembers how she likes him in blue.

They were making dinner together, homemade pasta with sauce to match. A bottle of wine was opened, and their glasses were filled with the sweet nectar.

“Remember when we got poured out at the festival with Mike and Crys?” she laughs while stirring the sauce.

“We were so muddy,” he joins in her laughter. “Your hair was sopping but you looked adorable all muddy.”

“You wouldn’t join me in the puddle,” she nudges him.

“Because I didn’t want to get sick and guess who was in bed for four days with a cold?”

“Yeah but you took care of me,” she grins.

Calum takes her hand that doesn’t have the spoon in her hand and lifts it to his lips. With his eyes trained on hers, he kisses her fingers, kisses the center of her palm, then her wrist.

“I’d do it again, you know,” he murmurs on her skin. Goosebumps rise on her neck and all the way down her body. “Take care of you.”

Their eyes lock and the mood changes, the sauce bubbles as they lean in closer, closer, and closer still until—

The timer on the oven buzzes signifying it’s ready for the garlic bread. Calum sighs, gives her wrist one more kiss then returns to his task at hand. She’s left flustered and warm while she stirs the sauce then adds the noodles into the boiling water.

During dinner they had another glass of wine and joked about more memories together, dreams they wanted to do with one another. Unlike the first week she was there, their chairs were pushed as close as they could be at the table. Their plates were empty, and his arm was on the back of her chair.

“We should just rent a small camper and travel along the coast,” he says rubbing her neck with his thumb.

“Maybe we can afterwards,” she chuckles wiping off pasta sauce from his cheek. “When we can leave the house again.”

“Good point. So, since this is a first date, now it’s time to dance.”

She quirks an eyebrow up. “Dance? I’m in a t-shirt and knee-high socks.”

“Perfect dancing outfit come on. Up you get, little lady,” he tickles her neck as he rises from his chair. She giggles at his touch then is pulled from her own chair by his hand.

“There isn’t any music,” she laughs falling into his chest.

“Oh shit, hang on. Hey Alexa, play the Y/N playlist,” he says.

“Playing Y/N playlist on Spotify,” Alexa responds, and Ariana’s voice fills the house.

“You have a playlist for me?”

“Of course,” he grins then dips her down. She squeals from the sudden rush to her head as she’s tipped backwards, but Calum would never let her fall.

He pulls her back up, both of them giggling as they dance in the kitchen. Her fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, it’s getting longer and shaggier by the day. His curls are coming back, and she’s been itching to play with the soft twists.

“I’ve missed you,” he confesses.

“I missed you, too,” she whispers. Their eyes meet just as Justin Bieber’s voice croons in the speakers.

“My plan when you came over was to try and get back together, you know. Even before all of this happened, I was going to ask if you’d wait for me to come back from tour. I wasn’t going to let my stubbornness push away the best person that’s happened to me.”

“Cal…”

She cups his cheek the same time he leans down and presses his lips to hers. An electric surge courses through them as their kiss deepens. He grips her waist then lowers his hands to her ass giving her a hefty squeeze. She gasps at the contact and he slips his tongue in her mouth. Calum spins her around, lifting her up so she’s seated on the counter.

Her legs wrap around his waist, accordingly, pulling him as close to her as possible. The song changes to Lover of Mine just as his hands creep under her shirt. His fingers skim her skin, thumbs brushing over her soft nipples that turn hard upon his touch. He groans, giving her breasts a firm squeeze before lifting the shirt from her body.

Their eyes lock, lips red from their kiss. She traces his lower lip and he’s quick to duck his head down to suck on her neck. She gasps when his hand cups her sex, his thumb rubbing her core through the fabric while his mouth descends to her breasts. She bites her lip, but a small moan escapes her as he sucks on her nipple, his thumb moving in tantric circles.

“Calum…Cal…please…” she begs in a whisper, her fingers tightening in his hair.

Getting her message loud and clear, he lifts her in his arms, lips assaulting hers as he makes his way to his bedroom. He kicks the door shut so Duke doesn’t interrupt then drops her to the bed. She giggles and he laughs along with her yanking his shirt off. She removes her shorts and panties the same time he drops his shorts to the floor.

She’s quick to grasp him in her palm, stroking towards herself, looking up at him. He touches her cheek affectionately; it’s been so long since they’ve had each other this way.

“Love the way you look at me like that,” he mumbles, his thumb rubbing under her eye.

A smile flickers on her lips before she suctions them around his tip. Calum’s eyes close sequentially but he forces them open so he can watch her, another love of his. Her tongue swirls and rolls the only way she knows how to do before taking him further in her mouth.

Calum groans at the warmth of her mouth, he brings his other hand to her cheek, watching her eyes close as she concentrates. Flashes of her like this flood his mind, from their first time, to the time they snuck away at Ashton’s house because he was wearing that suit she loved him in so much she had to have him right then.

When he reaches the back of her throat, he snaps back to the present and moans from the sensation. She takes him that deep again and he holds her face tighter.

“Up, up, up, up,” he orders pulling her off him. As much as he loved getting head from her, he loves returning the favor more. “Lie back, baby, legs up.”

She licks her lips, swiping her thumb over leftover spit which is insanely hot and pushes herself to the center of the bed. He follows her hungrily, pushing her ankles up and to the side so she’s open and pliant for him, only for him.

He keeps his eyes on her as he kisses her thighs, nibbling his teeth every now and then with his thumbs rubbing her ankles softly. She situates the pillows behind her head so she can have a better angle to watch him. She loves to watch as much as he does.

“Ready?” he asks, and she giggles, nodding quickly.

He flashes her a wink before closing his mouth on her clit. She moans on contact while he sucks then transitions to flicking his tongue at the nub, teasing the tip of his tongue in her hole sporadically. He loves pleasuring her with his mouth, he can feel her moans on his tongue as she drips for him. Her hands fly to his hair guiding his mouth to where she needs, and Calum lets her use him.

He pulls away a fraction so he can gather his saliva then spits it on her core, watching it dribble to her entrance before he slurps it back up with her arousal. Her moans are sinful at the action, her hips moving with his motions, moans getting louder and louder until she gasps out his name in one breath. Her legs go rigid in his hold as her orgasm crashes into her.

“That’s my fucking girl,” he grunts, swiping his tongue up and down, up and down until her body relaxes. He looks up already meeting her gaze, chest heaving from the bliss. “Ready for me?”

“Always,” she nods.

They move quickly, situating themselves in the right way. He holds her ankles until he’s hovering above her, then lets go so he can grab hold of his shaft then slaps it against her pussy in a teasing manner. She moans at the contact, her legs falling open wider. Calum rubs her temple with his thumb nearest her head as he nudges himself between her folds.

Her mouth opens like it always does when he inserts himself the first time, he slips right in and they moan together at being connected once more. He rests his other hand on his bed, and she lets out a squeak.

“Ouch! On my hair, move, move, move!”

He lifts his hand spewing out ‘sorry, sorry!’ quickly as she readjusts herself. They’re giggling and he bends down to kiss her, she wraps her arms around his neck. She shifts her hips slightly underneath him in a rocking motion, but he wants more of her lips.

“If I’m going to do all the work, I should have been on top,” she teases jutting her hips up once more.

“Yeah? You want to be sassy right now?” he hums pressing himself into her more, she lets out a choked moan.

“You going to fuck me right now?” she hums in the same tone, smirking against him.

Calum growls then pulls himself out of her only to plunge with force right back in. She screams out his name as he starts a rapid rhythm, hips snapping against hers, the bed shifting with his movements. Her head tilts back as her back arches so she can take him even deeper.

Calum sucks onto her breast, fucking into her swiftly, her wetness has him moving faster and faster until—

“FUCK!” he groans when he slips out of her entirely and thrusts into her thigh. She’s laughing above him, and he curses lowly to himself again. He glances up to see her giggling behind her hand. “Think it’s funny, huh?”

“Am I that wet?” she laughs poking his nose. “That’s your fault you know.”

“I take that as a win, baby,” he sighs teasing her hole once more with his cock. He grins up at her. “No one makes you as wet as I do.”

“Hmm, you’re not wrong,” she smiles then wiggles beneath him.

“You want more?” he teases pressing his tip in slowly, she bites her lip.

“Please,” she whines.

“You have to keep your legs still, so I don’t slip out again,” he breathes then pushes in once more.

He finds his rhythm from before, her body arching the way he loves but he feels her legs shift. He growls then pushes them up to her chest, he plants his knees to the mattress, her ass cheeks resting on his thighs.

“What’d I say?” he pants, and her eyes roll at his tone and the angle he has her body in. he jack hammers into her, his balls slapping her thighs.

She squeezes the pillows next to her head until her knuckles are white, her cries of pleasure are music to his ears as he feels her clench around him. Sweat builds on his brow and his chest and he’s damned to have her orgasm as many times as he can. Her eyes close as her second orgasm hits, she’s pulsing around him in such a good way it makes him ache.

When it’s over, he releases her legs so he can pound into her with his waist. He holds her to his body, face buried in her neck so he can leave marks on her skin. She’s coming once more, chanting his name in his ear and he groans at the sound. She kisses his ear, teeth grazing his lobe as a new orgasm rolls into the next.

Feeling his own release approaching, he shifts again. This time he moves backwards pulling her with him so they’re in a sitting position. He wraps her legs around his waist, her body is heavy against his from the tumultuous pleasure he’s giving her. Calum’s arms snake around her back, it’s sticky with her own sweat and he licks into her mouth the same time he starts thrusting again. Her ankles lock behind his back, she hides her face in his neck at the new angle.

“Look at me, baby, please,” he begs tugging at the hair by her neck. He holds her in place, their eyes meeting, her mouth falling open with their thrusts.

His movements slow to a more tenacious speed, still full of passion but with a layer of love and adoration. Calum moves his hand from her waist so he can anchor himself to the bed, thrusting his hips quicker. She helps as much as she can, her body is nearly spent but she wants to feel him cum inside her, hear his moans and see the bliss in his eyes.

“Come for me, Cal,” she pants, “come for me, baby…”

His hips jerk and he releases his orgasm inside her, his hips move lethargically, milking his climax for as long as he can but their eyes stay locked. When he’s finished, they both let out a long sigh, knocking their foreheads together. Their breath is hot on each other’s faces, sweat beads roll onto each other’s skin, a mixture of him and her.

They stay in the position, legs crisscrossed, arms wrapped around one another, heartbeats slowing from a rapid pace to syncing together. After a few more moments, they disentangle, and Calum has to help her walk to the bathroom. She can already feel the soreness in her lips, but she’s missed the pleasured ache.

They brush their teeth, she uses the toilet, then crawl into bed together. She’s already passed out as soon as her head hits the pillow and Calum draws designs along her back until he falls asleep as well.

The next morning, they wake later than intended but give light kisses in the morning sun.

“I love you, you know,” he tells her caressing her face. His eyes litter over the small marks on her neck and breasts he gave her.

“I love you, too.”

“Are you all right being stuck with me?” he grins pulling her leg over his hip.

“Lock the door and throw out the key,” she grins capturing his lips between hers.

“It’s just you and me.” He moves to roll on top of her, but she pushes on his chest lightly so she’s on top.

“I’m stuck with you,” she whispers, kissing him as she grinds herself on top of him.

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#calum hood oneshot #calum hood smut #calum hood angst #calum writing #calum hood writing #calum smut #calum 5sos writing #calum 5sos #5sos writing #calum angst #calum fluff

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anarcoqueer1994 · 3 years

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So I wrote this and I'm pretty proud it. Some pre-serum 1930s Stucky, period accurate homophobia. If you like it I linked my ao3 for the other two chapters. Am I cringy? Probs but whateves

It is probably one of the coldest winters Bucky could remember. He was thankful that the end of the day was finally here. The biting temperatures were amplified by the air off of the cold water. More importantly though, going home meant he could go check on Steve, his tenement mate, and long-time best friend. Steve have come down with a bout of pneumonia a couple weeks back. He is still fighting to get his strength back, still breaking out in coughing fits and struggling to get around. His weak immune system made sure that it was not going to be easy to get over this. Honestly, Bucky hated that he had to leave him alone all day to work, but they needed the money to afford the rent, even if their tenement was too small and the heat wasn’t the best. So Bucky just spent the day going through the worse possible scenarios in his head. What if Steve got worse while he was away? What if Steve fell somewhere in the apartment because he is too stubborn to stay in bed, and now couldn’t get up? Was he laying their freezing not able to get back to his bed? What if he…dies because I am not there to help him? But now he could get home and check on Steve.

“James!’ Bucky turned around to hear Bill calling after, as he walking away for the day. Bill was another one of the grunt workers at dock. Nice enough guy, kind of rough. Probably his closest “work friend.” Bucky waits for him to catch up.

“Yea?” he says casually, trying not to show the impatience in his voice for the man that is unknowingly delaying him from getting to Steve.

“Want to go get a drink with some of the guys? Maybe we’ll run into some dames desperate enough for a good time to give your ugly mug a chance?” He wiggles his eye brows jokingly.

“No thanks, I’m good, actually.” Bucky replies, turning to leave.

“Oh come on, you never come out. Let loose a little, pal.” Bill pushes.

“I just need to get home…” Bucky responds, a little annoyed at this point because of the hold up.

“What’s the rush?”

“It’s just Steve is at home and he’s expecting me.” Bucky lies. Steve wouldn’t care if he went out. He would tell Bucky he deserves it. In actuality, he was too worried to go out and have fun, not when Steve was at home, miserable.

“Come on then, invite him out too. You guys can meet us at the bar.” Bill offers.

“Maybe another night, Steve is pretty sick. Getting over pneumonia.” Bucky goes to turn away again.

“Then why are you in a rush?” He laughs. “If he’s sick, he’s probably just laying down in bed. No need to babysit.”

Bucky ignores he question and just repeats, “Like I said, maybe another night.”

Bill lets out a little amused huff. “Interesting.”

His tone of voice gets the better of Bucky. “Interesting? What is that supposed to mean?” Bucky interrogates.

“Nothing, man. Forget about it.” Bill half-heartedly replies.

Bucky of course will not forget about it. “No, what did you mean?” His voice a little more irritated sounding then he intended.

Bill shakes his head and lets out a sigh. “It’s just some of the guys…”

“Some of the guys, what?” Bucky urges.

“Some of the guys say you’re a little funny, you know.” Many of the guys on the crew have grown up in the same neighborhood as Steve and Bucky and as such have known them, or at least seen them for a long time.

Bucky feels a sudden weight on his chest but does not let it show. “Funny how, Bill?” though he is terrified that he know what he means.

“You know, you and that roommate are pretty close and have been for a long time. Sometimes it just appears…” he hesitates, thinking about how to say it. “It appears like you treat him how you would treat a dame you were into. It just seems a little queer.” From behind Bill, he could see some of the guys eavesdropping. Some are smirking, and a few other are snickering. Some even are shooting disgusted looks at Bucky.

Bucky stops his face from faltering from the apathetic look he has put on. He replies loud enough for those assholes who are listening in to hear. “Well, I can assure you Bill, that Steve is my best friend, and that’s all, okay?” In reality, his heart is beating through his chest. Had it been that obvious that he liked Steve? How long have they been passing stories about this.

Bill cracks a smile and slaps Bucky on the shoulder. “Yeah, okay. I knew those guys had to wrong about you. Come out and join us later if you change your mind.” Bill gives Bucky the name of the bar they’ll be at, as he politely listens, not intending on changing his mind. As he leaves, he can tell a lot of the guys do not seem to believe him.

Walking home, Bucky was stuck in his head. He didn’t think people could tell how he felt about Steve. Did he act more like Steve’s fella than his friend? How could they tell? To be fair, he hadn’t been lying about Steve just being his friend. Just because Bucky was a little “light in the loafers”, did not mean that he feelings for Steve were requited. Steve was such a good guy and a model Catholic. No way was Steve into him the same way.

Probably for the best since guys liking other guys that way wasn’t looked on very favorably. The anti-sodomy laws made that clear. Plus, he didn’t particularly like the idea of having to get into fist fight with guys who may make a remark at him…or god forbid Steve.

He shakes his, getting himself out of his own thoughts. He didn’t want to think about these what ifs anymore. Maybe he would try harder to act less like a boyfriend to Steve and more like his super manly, non-homosexual, best friend. Its’s not like he didn’t like women, he just preferred Steve more. But he could be less doting. He didn’t need to babysit his best friend. Bill was right, Steve was probably just sleeping and didn’t need him. Maybe he would just stop at home, check in momentarily, and then take them up on his offer to drink with the guys. He hypes himself up in his head as he reaches the steps leading up to his door. These thoughts left his head as soon as he opened the door.

He could hear a pretty bad coughing fit from the bedroom. The place was freezing. The shitty radiator must be on the fritz. It was warmer than outside but not by much. It couldn’t be more than 40 degrees in that house, the paper-thin walls doing little to keep the heat in. Bucky makes his way to the little gas stove. The tenement was only 3 rooms, the front room that consisted of a little seating area and a modest kitchen (if you van call it that. It was a little sink and gas stove, with one cupboard), the bathroom (the only room with a door), and their share bedroom. He turns on the oven, and leaves it open so the heat could radiate through out the place. He discards his shoes and jacket in the front room. Then he quietly makes his way to the back bedroom, not knowing if the previous coughing fit indicated if he was a wake or not. If Steve was asleep, he didn’t want to wake him.

When he walks through the doorway to bedroom, his friend is huddled under some the blankets. He notices that Steve is still covered in his own blanket, as well Bucky’s blanket that he had laid on top of him this morning when he left for work. Steve’s face sticks out slightly even though he pulled the blanket over his head. He is definitely not feeling great. He is awake but kind of staring off in the distance. His usual pale features somehow look paler when punctuated with the dark circles under his eyes. Of course, he hasn’t slept well in a while, constantly being woken up in fits of coughing and wheezing. He hasn’t noticed that Bucky has walked in. There is no way Bucky can leave and go to the bar though after seeing this.

“Hey Stevie.” Bucky puts on a smile, knowing that Steve hates when Bucky stares at him like some pathetic sick thing. Steve looks up and for a moment it looks like a light entered his eyes that wasn’t there a moment ago. Bucky likes to think he did not imagine it and Steve genuinely lights up because of him. Probably wishful thinking but it’s a nice though.

“Hey Buck!” He tries to sound stronger than he felt. He hated making Bucky worry but he knew his friend, He inevitably is. He pushes himself up lamely to rest his back against the wall behind his mattress. He is still wrapped up in the blankets, still shivering faintly. “So how was work?” Steve asks, just kind of wanting to talk to Bucky. He would never admit it to Bucky, but he hated feeling alone all day while the other man was at work.

Bucky makes his way across the room, sitting on the little wooden stool by Steve’s bed so he could face his friend. His smile had disappeared momentarily when Bucky thought back to conversation he had right before leaving. But he recovers quicky to reply. “Nothing special. Cold as hell though. And this damn apartment is freezing, not making it any better.”

“Yea, I think the radiator is busted. Tried to tell the sup, but I couldn’t get out of bed. I’m sorry Buck.” He gives a sad smile. Times like this made Steve feel so useless, couldn’t even make sure the heat was working so Bucky was cold after working outside all day.

“No problem, pal. Tomorrow’s my day off. I’ll handle it.” Bucky smiles before realizing how sad Steve still looks. He leans over and puts his hand on Steve’s blanket covered shoulder. “Buddy, I promise it is not a big deal, you cannot help that you are sick.”

Steve sighs miserably. “Doesn’t mean, it doesn’t make me feel pretty worthless. For god sakes, look how pathetic I am. I have both blankets and am still shivering like some babe.” He averts his eyes to his lap, avoiding Bucky’s gaze.

This breaks Bucky’s heart, to hear how little Steve thinks about himself. Steve Rogers had the biggest heart out of everyone he knows. He has gotten into so many fights (that he could not win) just because he saw some in justice. Steve was the best person he has ever met so hearing this from him is difficult. “Stevie…” the familiar nickname instinctively causes Steve to look back at Bucky. “I hate to tell you this, bud, but you are wrong. You are pretty great and all this stuff about being worthless or pathetic, is bullshit.”

Steve lets out a nervous huff before quietly whispering “Thanks, Buck…”

“Anytime.” Bucky smiles back at him.

“But, umm hey Bucky…”

“Yeah?”

“Here...” Steve starts to shimmy out the outer blanket belonging to the slightly older man.

“Hey no…” Bucky puts up his hands to signal to stop. “You need that, it is freezing in here and you are sick.”

“Yea but we can’t have you getting sick, either Buck. You may not have my immune system but you can get still get sick.

“Steve.” Bucky says firmly. “I will not take that blanket from you.”

Steve sighs, sometimes Bucky can be as stubborn as he is. “Fine but I can’t have you freezing to death. Come up here. We can share the blanket,” Steve says it so matter-of-factly, like nothing he said was weird. And I guess it wasn’t it is not like they haven’t shared a bed before. Except, in light the conversation at work Bucky can’t help but to start to over think it. Luckily for him, Steve clears his throat to get Bucky’s attention when he notices him staring off. “Hey Buck…did you hear me? Come on, get up here.”

Bucky wants to get up there, god knows he does. To Steve it seemed to be a very practical thing, cold apartment, limited blankets, two bodies make more heat than one, etc. But to Bucky, it felt like so much more. He loved being that close to Steve. And that was his problem. Thinking fast he says “I should start supper. I’m going to heat up the stew for us that Mrs. Andrews dropped off yesterday.” Mrs. Andrews being the nice widow from upstairs.

“Oh…” Steve says before letting a smile come back to his face. If Bucky didn’t know any better, he would say Steve almost sounded disappointed. He did not allow himself to dwell on it too long. Instead, he quickly stands up and makes his way to the kitchen. He throws the small pot of stew on the stoves so he can warm it up.

After a few minutes, he hears Steve shuffle into the room. It really was much warmer in that since the oven, and now the stove, have been on. Steve takes a quiet seat at their modest table.

“You didn’t have to come out. I would have brought you dinner, Stevie.” Bucky says, eyes on the pot in front of him.

“S’okay, I needed to stretch my legs…” No sooner did he say that, did another coughing fit came on. It sounded almost painful, and Bucky could only imagine how raw Steve’s throat must feel. He made his was to his friend, carrying a handkerchief to help with the mess of snot and flem coming from the other man. He stops in front of his friend, crouching down to be on his level. Bucky patiently waits for it to pass before handing his friend the little piece of cloth.

“Thanks Buck…” Steve said almost like he was embarrassed. Bucky instinctively squeezes Steve’s knee reassuringly, before smiling softly and getting back up. He walks back to the pot on the stove. Okay, he thinks to himself. I may be a little too doting. What Bucky did not see when he turned around was Steve smiling at him.

The rest of dinner is uneventful, give or take a few coughs and shivers. When they finished eating, Bucky has to turn off the oven He doesn’t want to leave it on all night, doesn’t want to risk a fire. It is still pretty early in the evening, only about 7:30 but he can see Steve is exhausted.

Steve stands up, but momentarily loses his balance. Bucky, overreacting, stands up and catches Steve before the smaller man can even try to catch himself. They find themselves in a precarious situation. Steve is leaning is weight against Bucky’s chest, as Bucky’s arm is wrapped around the skinnier man’s waist. Bucky’s cheeks turn red as Steve stares curiously at him.

After what felt like years of silence, Bucky lets go of Steve, realizing his friend must be confused. “Uh sorry, thought you were going to fall.” Bucky nervously rubs the back of his neck.

Steve yawns and says “Thanks, I almost did.” He actually flashes bucky a warm smile that honest to god gave the brunette butterflies. Get it together, Barnes. He thinks to hisself, as he watches Steve walk away to their room. He follows noting the apartment temperature going down again.

When Bucky gets to the room, he finds that Steve has set his blanket on his bed. “I told you Stevie, you need this more than me.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” Steve says between shivers under his own blanket. “Can’t have you getting sick too. And you are being weird.”

“What do you mean by weird?” Bucky cocks his head to the side.

“Well, it would make more sense to share a bed, two blankets and two bodies would be warmer, and we have done it a thousand times. But ever since you got home from work, you seem off. So take your blanket, punk.” Steve stares at his bewildered friend.

Bucky hates that Steve is so observant. He hadn’t meant to be weird. But now his stubborn friend was going to freeze tonight because he refused to not let Bucky have a blanket. He lets out an exasperated sigh, plays up the drama of course. “Fine. You win. Sharing a bed it is.”

Steve beams at him. Bucky should of know Steve would win this out. With Bucky, Steve could have anything he wanted. He had to face it, he was wrapped around the younger man’s finger.

Bucky makes his way to a pile of books on the ground, grabbing his copy of The Hobbit, before stepping out of his pants, leaving him in a shirt and briefs. He takes the book and his blanket over to Steve’s bed. He scoots into bed with Steve, both men adjusting so that the blankets now cover of them, their bodies inevitably touching on the small, twin size bed. Bucky sets his book on the nightstand, knowing Steve will fall asleep first and he’ll probably do some reading.

Bucky suddenly freezes when he feels Steve lie his head on Bucky’s chest, his arm thrown over the other man’s abdomen. Bucky’s arms are currently under his own head. This is new. Usually, they only got in this position through accidental readjusting while they are sleeping. Stuff that Bucky could just brush off. But now an awake Steve Roger’s is cuddling with an awake Bucky Barnes. He hopes that Steve cannot feel his heart racing in his chest. He continues to look up at the ceiling, hoping to nullify the blush creeping up his face.

Steve doesn’t seem to notice the other man’s reaction, or if he does, he hides it well. He whispers “Is this okay? I’m really cold and I guess I am trying to steal your body heat.” Steve’s voice sounds shy, almost embarrassed.

Of course, when Steve puts it like that, how can Bucky say no? He internally scolds himself for reading more into it. He tries to let out a casual laugh, though it sounded way more choked then intended. He lamely jokes. “That’s why you were trying to get me into bed. To use me?” He finally looks down at his chest, trying to see if his friend laughs. Instead, he is met with questioning blue eyes, genuinely concerned if this was alright. Even with only the dim light of a small bedside lamp, he can’t help but notice how those eyes sparkle. Bucky lets out a small, controlled, sigh and quietly whispers, “Steal away, buddy.”

“Buck?” Steve’s voice sounding even smaller this time. Bucky can’t remember Steve sounding so nervous about anything. He begins to panic internally even as he tries to stay cool externally.

“Yea Stevie?”

“You can say no, okay?” Steve whispers nervously.

“Steve what is it?” His voice more audibly concerned this time.

“Will put your arms around me? I feel like I just can’t get warm.” The way Steve asks is heartbreaking to Bucky, like he was worried Bucky would be upset.

For the first time, Bucky notices that Steve is still shivering. He had been so wrapped up by the way he felt having the smaller man so physically intimate with him, that he didn’t realize that the cold really was getting to Steve. He can tell by the way Steve was acting, he was embarrassed to make these requests. He knows Steve could be a proud man and to be in the position where he had to be so vulnerable was probably hard for him. So Bucky didn’t want to make it a thing, where Steve would feel obligated to have to say more. This was obviously tough enough. So without a word, he wrapped one arm around Steve, as the other fell over his own chest so that he cook connected his hands, locking Steve in, and trying to pull him as close as possible, trying his hardest to warm his sick friend.

Steve didn’t say a word, just flashed a tiny appreciative smile. They laid there in silence for a while before he finally heard Steve’s breath steady in a way that indicated that sleep finally overtook him. Bucky frowned because even in his sleep, the other man’s breaths seemed labored and congested. He hated that this was Steve’s life, that he couldn’t fix this for him. But at least he could help him for tonight. Bucky would be content spending the rest of his life as Steve’s best friend, even if it broke his heart know he could never be with Steve the way he wanted to be. This could be enough.

~~~~

A few hours pass by. Bucky had fallen asleep a little bit ago, still with his arms wrapped around the blonde. It is around 1 am when Bucky is disturbed from his sleep. He had become alarmed when he realized that Steve was no longer beside him. He sits up and desperately looks around the dark room, unsuccessfully scanning for his friend. That’s when he spots the soft glow of candlelight through the doorway coming from the front room. He notices both blankets are still in bed with him, so he worries about the offending temperature in the other room where Steve must be.

He makes his way out of bed, wrapping one of the blankets over his shoulders, and walks to the front room. Luckily, he found when he got in there, that Steve had turned one the oven filling the tiny front room with warmth. He spotted Steve sitting on their tiny old couch, kind of staring off. Bucky clears his throat, but Steve doesn’t seem to notice, still lost in his thoughts.

So, Bucky steps a little closer, stopping when he is a few feet away from his friend. A candle sits on the little crate they use as side table, the dim light barely illuminating his friend’s face. “Hey, bud. Couldn’t sleep?” Bucky says softly.

Steve doesn’t bother looking up, just keeps staring a head. He mumbles. “Was woken…up by something. You can go back to bed.” Steve looks visibly shaken and Bucky was absolutely not going to be able to just go back to bed.

Bucky instead takes a seat next to his rigid friend. Something was definitely not right. The way that Steve was sitting so stiffly, his face was distorted into a broken frown. At this level, Bucky can also tell his friend had been crying, blood shot eyes lit a glow from the candle. “Steve…buddy what’s wrong?” Bucky instinctively goes to rest his hand on the other man’s boney knees. To his surprise, Steve pulls his knee away, repulsed, still not looking at him.

Fear flashed through Bucky’s head. Had he done something? Had something happened while they were sleeping. Had Steve realized the way Bucky looked at him was wrong. He was trying to panic but that seemed fruitless. “Stevie…did I do something wrong?” Bucky didn’t recognize the voice that came out of his mouth. It seemed so broken and pathetic.

Steve let out a pained sigh, before momentarily pressing the palms of his hands over his eyes, like he was forcing back tears. Finally, he turned and looked at Bucky. He sounded frail; his voice laced with sadness. “No Buck…never. You could never do anything wrong. Its me…I am the something wrong here.”

Bucky immediately got defensive, worry coating his words. “What are you talking about? You didn’t do anything wrong? Please tell me why you would say something like that?” He may have been a little louder than he intended, as he felt terrible as he watched Steve recoil at his tone. He lowers his voice before softly placing his hand back on Steve’s knee, this time the younger man letting it rest there. “I’m…I’m sorry for yelling, Stevie. Can you please just tell me what happened. I am sure you didn’t do anything wrong.”

He watches as a tear starts to well up in Steve’s eye again, as he obviously tries to will it to stop before it falls defiantly down his cheek. The dam is broken and Bucky watches helplessly as his best friend falls apart in front of him. Without thinking, he throws his arms around Steve pulls him into a hug. Steve buries his head in Bucky’s shoulder, repeatedly whispering “I’m sorry.” Bucky quietly shushes him, while running his hand over the back of Steve’s neck, trying to sooth his friend.

After what seemed like an eternity, Steve pulls away, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Bucky’s eyes are still riddled with worry, his eyebrows scrunched together trying to figure out what could be wrong. Steve whispers “I might as well show you; you will see eventually anyways.”

Bucky feels his chest tighten. What could be so bad that Steve would be this freaked out. He tentatively nods his head, preparing for whatever it could be.

“Buck?” Steve questions.

“Yea, buddy?” He replies automatically.

“Thank you for being my friend and …” There was a sad hesitation in his voice before he continues. “And I get it if you don’t want to be my friend anymore after tonight.”

That thought breaks Bucky’s heart in two. A choked breath escapes him. “Trust me…that’s not going to happen. “

Steve can only give a disbelieving, sad smile in reply. Bucky is now terrified at what could have caused this all.

Without saying a word, Steve picks up the candle and walks to the door that leads outside of their tenement. Bucky gets the idea that he should be following him. When Bucky catches up with him, he notices Steve’s hand shaking as he reaches for the doorknob. Bucky does not rush him, knowing that whatever this was, it was hard. Before long though, Steve opens the door and steps outside. Bucky follows close behind. For as cold as it was inside, the outside was colder. Steve didn’t even seem bothered though, too consumed with grief about something to care.

Steve stopped a few feet away from their door and turned back around to face it. For a moment, he thought he was turned around to face Bucky. Bucky starts “Why…why are we out here, Stevie? It is freezing.” Bucky still only in a shirt, underwear and a blanket. Steve had been a little better dress but not sufficiently enough. The only thing that left Steve’s mouth was. , “Look.” As he pointed behind Bucky at their door.

Bucky turned around and he felt like he got punched in the stomach. On the ground around him were a few broken glass bottles, but that wasn’t the issue. The pale light from the candle illuminated 7 angry red letters, painted sloppily in red on their door. Bucky reads the word out loud, simultaneously deflating with each syllable. “FAGGOTS.” He feels like his world is spinning. Did someone know…about him? Was this the guys at his job? Had to be, after the way they looked at him earlier, knowing he was lying. Worse yet, they are throwing Steve into this. Steve didn’t deserve to be taken down with him.

He was broken out of his thought by the weak voice coming from the man slightly behind him. “I…I was woken up by the sound of these guys laughing outside. They sounded drunk…and you know how much of a light sleeper I am. I thought they were going away but then it sounded like they were at the front door. They were still laughing and I heard glass breaking. You were out.” Bucky silently curses that he was such a heavy sleeper as he continues listening, eyes still fixed on the door. “So, I got out of bed to see what was going on. By the time I get to the door, they are running off, and one called me…this before disappearing down the steps. I tried to go after them.”

“Of course, you did…” Bucky replies, not processing it all.

“Yea, well it was too icy and I am too sick, so I couldn’t catch up to them. When I turned to go back inside, I seen this. And…and I am so sorry Buck.” Steve’s voice crumbles, sounding pathetic and sad, and full of hurt.

That’s when Bucky finally turns to face Steve. “Sorry? Sorry for what? None of this is your fault.” His voice is soft, only focusing on his hurting friend, ignoring his own hurt and panic.

Steve lets out a sniffle, Bucky unsure if from the cold or from fresh tears. “That’s where you are wrong. They did this because of me…”

“What are you talking about?” Bucky stares in confusion.

“These guys…they must have found out…found out that I …I am one.” Steve looks to the ground, terrified of Bucky’s reaction. Tears falling to the frozen ground, his skinny body shaking.

Bucky is overwhelmed with emotions. The most prominent of these emotions though was sadness for his hurting friend. Understanding the irony, he was still heartbroken that Steve thought he had to keep this his dirty little secret. This is why Steve thought they wouldn’t be friend anymore. He was lost for words but needed Steve to know that He was there for the long haul and this wasn’t going to change anything. For the second time this evening, he found himself pulling the younger man into a hug, the candle dropping, putting itself out. “s’okay Stevie…it’s okay. I promise…” He keeps repeating as his arms threaten to never let go of Steve again.

After a few moments though, he noticed the blonde shivering. It was still the middle of winter after all. Without saying another word, Bucky pulled away from the hug(reluctantly) before grabbing his hand and dragging him inside. He drags him to the bedroom where the warm bed wait, Steve not putting up much of a fight. When they get to the room though, Steve pulls his hand away and quickly makes his way to his bed. When Bucky makes his way to Steve’s bed, Steve puts up his hands to make the other man stop in his tracks.

“Buck, thank you for not kicking my ass.” Bucky puts on a hurt look, not believing that Steve actually thought he would. Steve explains himself. “Most guys would have knocked someone out if they found out their best friend was a fairy. So, um, thank you for not doing that.” Steve nervously puts his hand on the back of his neck before continuing. “But you don’t have to lay with me anymore. I get that can be weird now knowing…” Steve still refuses to meet his eyes.

Bucky lets out a huff. He can’t let Steve sit here and feel like he is alone. After what Steve confessed, he thought it was only fair. Ignoring, Steve’s protests, Bucky walks to the bed and sits on the edge, facing Steve. The streetlight out the window dully lighting their faces. He rests his hands on his own thighs, suddenly clammy despite the freezing temperatures. He says “I know…” He stutters “I know… who did this.”

“Who?” Steve sounds surprised despite himself.

“Some guys from the job.” Bucky says sadly.

“Why would they do that?” The smaller man responded, confused.

“Today…they asked me if I was that way you know? They thought that I treated you differently then how a guy should treat his friend.”

“Oh…” is all that escapes Steve’s mouth, Bucky watching an “O” form on the other’s lips.

“I…um of course…told them they were wrong but I guess they didn’t believe me. I’m sorry Steve. I guess…um…” Bucky stops, unsure if he wanted to finish.

“You guess what?” Steve asks, curiosity getting the best of him as he finally locks eyes with Bucky.

“I guess I was too obvious, Stevie. Look, I…I don’t know if I am that way. All I know is that I only got eyes for one person and that person is a fella.” Bucky’s face turning pink with the admission.

Steve stares, visibly confused, unsure exactly what Bucky is getting at. He dumbly asks “Who?”

Bucky gives an uncomfortable laugh, obviously apprehensive. “Are you that oblivious, pal? You…Stevie.” As the other man’s name slips from his mouth, he finds himself trying to look anywhere to avoid the gaze of the blue eyes staring into him.

All Steve manages to choke out is “Really?” His voice sound apprehensive and shy But to Bucky’s surprise, it also sounded hopeful. Yea, he already knew Steve was queer but that did not mean that he automatically like Bucky back. But maybe…he did?

It was this hopefulness that gave Bucky the courage to look back at Steve, his own light eyes staring into Steve’s. He can tell his friend was blushing hard, It was adorable, and pretty impressive for someone who was so pale moments ago. Without thinking about it, Bucky reaches his hand across the bed, and rests it on Steve’s shoulder, still safe in the platonic zone if they wanted to turn back. He whispers almost too quietly for Steve to hear. “Yea…really. You know how much I love you, Stevie, Always have. And for a long time, I thought that love was just because you were my best friend, you know? But overtime, I came to accept that the love I felt for you went way beyond that of a friend, even a close friend.” He looks down before looking back up, sporting a small mischievous grin. “Plus, I think you are really fucking hot.”

Steve somehow manages to blush eve harder, Though he was blushing, Steve was never one to back down from something he wanted. With the knowledge that his best friend was just as into him as he is to him, He scoops forward down the bed, so he very close to Bucky. Bucky’s hand had made its way off Steve’s shoulder, to now gently rest on his hip. He moves his head close to Bucky’s. The older man could feel Steve’s breathe on his face as he replies with a nervous smile “Good, because I’ve had eyes for you since were teenagers. I always got jealous when I seen you with a random skirt instead of me.”

Now Bucky was turning as pink as Steve, red hues covering his face and ears. He made Steve jealous?! He couldn’t believe it. Steve really wanted him. He takes his free hand and moves it to the back of Steve’s neck, wanting so bad to kiss him. He whispers “Can I kiss you?” It sounds so silly coming out of his mouth but he doesn’t want to push Steve.

Unfortunately, to his dismay, Steve says “No, Buck…”

Bucky looks down, suddenly feeling defeated. Had he read the signs wrong. Was Steve admitting he loved him too but did not want to pursue such a risky relationship. His head began to spin as he pulled away. “Oh, I/m sorry.”

Steve lets out a little laugh, grabbing his hand as he went to pull away. “I said no because I am still sick, jerk. Trust me I want to kiss you.” Bucky can’t help but laugh at himself too. Steve continues, “But I would like you to stay in bed with me tonight, if that is still okay."

“Of course, it is...anything for you.” He beams.

A few minutes later, they were laying down, Steve’s head on Bucky’s chest like earlier. Except it wasn’t just like earlier. The action was the same but the feelings were different. Earlier, there was tense atmosphere of secrets they were both hiding. But now it felt like it should have always been like this. Like they were complete more complete. Something that had always been there could thrive. Bucky lazily runs his fingers through Steve’s hair as they begin to drift back to sleep. “Buck?” Steve sleepily asks.

“Yea?”

“So you are my best fella now, right?”

Bucky chuckles to himself that Steve would even worry enough to ask. “Right, Stevie.” only getting a soft okay in response. Bucky lays there, waiting for Steve to fall asleep first. Thoughts run through his head, uncertainties about what to do tomorrow about those asshole, and how this is all going to work. But the one thing he doesn’t worry about is the fact that Steve is his and he is Steve’s

Other two chapters, poorly written smut in the second half of chapter 3.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30749381/chapters/75892694#workskin

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #steve x bucky #pre serum steve #1930s stucky #captain america #fanfiction

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laraplisetski · 3 years

Text

Dating Oikawa Tooru.

A/n: So I wrote this because I love Oikawa Tooru. Yes. Also I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while. Please send in requests.

Words: 1345

Tags: @imthatchishiyasimp

(also Oikawa with this hairstyle is immaculate)

Okay first of all pda.

Like have you seen this man, he thrives off of it.

He likes to have his arm around your shoulders or waist

(depends on your height)

He's the jealous type so if anyone stares at you for too long or they give you a compliment he’ll call you by your nickname

(which is probably something very cheesy and just yk how people call their s/o’s something like pooh bear or sweet pea- I'll stop I'm cringing so much while writing this.)

Continuing on he’ll also pull you in for a kiss to make the person staring uncomfortable.

It'll be like really long and sensual to the point where you'll get embarrassed because

tOoRu we’Re iN puBliC

After he's done he'll whisper like a light ‘I love you’ in your ear. Grab your hand casually and walk away like nothing happened.

Three minutes later you recover from that and you're like

‘Why did you do that’

‘Because your my s/o’

‘It's not like you to randomly kiss me- ohhhh’

‘What’

‘Were you jealous’

And this bitch just straight up says no as if he wasn't being jealous like 5 minutes ago.

Then hell distract you with something like a ice cream shop or a café or something

(I'm sorry Tooru. I love food just a bit more than you.)

This isn't all when ya’ll are at your house.

This boy, he can't keep his hands off of you.

Cuddles are like a big thing

If you start cuddling with Oikawa Tooru there's no getting out of it.

Like he wants cuddles after school, after practice, after everything

Also back hugs!!!

My love for back hugs is back again but like yes

You would be getting water in the kitchen and he would come up behind you and just give you a back hug

Beware Tooru isn’t letting go after hell just cling to you after that.

Also when he gives you back hugs he just like to smell your hair and like take in your scent

(it's not creepy I swear)

Also he loves trying out new hairstyles on your hair.

Sorry people with no hair or extremely short hair.

So you guys have movie nights or nights where you both sit down and analyze an opponent's game.

Usually the latter is more serious so for dates you go with movie nights.

Movie nights with Oikawa Tooru are amusing to be honest

He has this habit of adding his own comments to a movie your watching and it can be really annoying at times but sometimes his comments are really funny and they make you laugh

Also you guys invite the team over and put on some live volleyball matches and then bet on whos gonna win

You side with Iwa cause Tooru’s guesses are wrong most of the time

He gets really pouty after that but Iwa just like slaps the back of his head and then he's fine

Also side note, you both are simps for Iwa.

He takes you on dates which isn't really surprising since yk you're in a relationship but there's a catch.

He drags Iwa with you guys on like 1.5/10 of your dates.

The point five is when Iwa leaves in the middle.

But its not annoying it's actually really fun

Also did I tell you that you both simp for Iwa because oh ma god.

Anywaysss

Couple outfits!!!!

Like if you refuse to wear couple outfits boi will be sad

But you agree to wear them after he gets very sad ;-;

After you wear them get ready for like a fuck load of selfies cause Oikawas gotta show you off right

You guys usually go on dates on the weekends or a Monday cause there's no practice if I remember correctly.

I personally think that Tooru loves shopping so you guys will walk around a shopping mall, Tooru buying some trinkets or clothes from here and there and since Tooru paid for the clothes and stuff you pay for the food!

And you certainly don't mind feeding your boyfriend or buying food for him but Tooru please eat less. Imma go bankrupt.

If your dates aren't on the days there's no practice then you usually take a walk around town after club activity ends.

You guys go get ice cream and you have a ritual that you have to pay for ice creams in turns.

If you leave your jacket at home or at school and your feeling cold in one of your walks, he doesn't give you his jacket without getting a kiss or hug

Also i just thought of something

He would totally bear hug you when you were feeling cold.

Ps. He would also ask for your jacket if he left his

Tooru would definitely be the type of person to send goodmorning and goodnight texts.

Beware they contain a fuck load of emojis.

Like Goodmorning _____-chan 😍😘😍❤🥰😘

He would also come pick you up from your house and have a small chat with one of your family members.

One time he didn't come pick you up cause the club was starting early that day and you didn't mind.

You knew that Tooru doesn't eat breakfast usually when his club starts early so you made something for him to eat and you went on your way.

Now dating Tooru is like the best thing because he's so caring and kind but it also come with his fangirls *sigh*

So you walked into your school and as you were about to turn towards the volleyball club they cornered you

Lucky you there was no one in that hallway as well.

‘Why would Oikawa-senpai choose you? You're pretty ugly aren't you.’

‘I mean I don't really understand why the whole volleyball club would like you as well’

One of them gasps and points a finger at you

‘You dont think shes sleeping with all-’

‘Shut up’ ,a voice comes from behind them.

It's Iwaizumi, Thankgod.

He pushes through them while giving them glares, gestures you towards the volleyball club and walks you there.

He proceeds to tell Tooru about how his fangirls were acting.

After that incident Tooru never let you out of his sight and if his fan club did something that made you uncomfortable he would scold them right there and then.

But enough of story time.

Before going to games he would give you a kiss on the forehead and he would have a whole monologue about how your love will help him win and all that shit but before he can start you give him a kiss on the lips and tell Iwaizumi to drag him away.

Cheeky bastard would point at you before doing a serve and when you're attending his energy would be 120% and he would be on his a-game.

If Seijoh loses a match the team would all come to your house and have a little sleepover.

That would be one of the times when you would just lay with Tooru in your bed and you just let him bury his face in your shoulder and let him cry his heart out.

Okay I have to stop I'm making it too angsty.

His team would be so grateful for you like 1. You can deal with Tooru and knock some sense into him 2. You bring them food. 3. You're just a really good person.

First time Tooru introduced you to them they asked you if he had bribed you lol.

You have inside jokes and secret handshakes with the team and someone's jealous.

Bonus points if you play volleyball yourself, you can help them with practice then.

Like set to Kindaichi or toss him a ball and let him try to improve his line shots.

Or block against Kunimi and tell him ways to evade the block

Maybe you could spike some balls Tooru sets for you as well.

Enough rambling tho

Honestly Tooru would be too much practice/10

#oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyū!!#hq oikawa #oikawa fluff #i really enjoyed writing this #anyways #bye😃

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iridescent-petrichor · 4 years

Text

100 bad days

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Steve gets into a fight

Words: 1.2K

A/N: holy SHIT I haven’t written anything in so long. I’ve been swamped with schoolwork but this is very very loosely based off 100 bad days by AJR because every AJR song gives me Steve Harrington vibes // also if this is bad i apologize it’s really late and i wrote this all in one without proof reading

“Remember last year when you invited Tommy and Carol over and we all got super drunk?”

Steve let out a loud laugh, throwing his head back against the bathroom wall. “God, and I broke both of my thumbs!”

You shifted your spot on the floor so you could face him better. “I still don’t know how you managed to do that, I mean Carol and I left so she could throw up and I was gone for five minutes!”

He groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Oh my god, I felt so dumb.”

When the laughter died down the only sound around you was the bass from the music playing at the party outside the room. Steve looked up from his hands, smile still wide on his face.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just like hanging out with you.” He muttered. “I’m glad we went to this party.”

“We’ve barely been out there.” Steve laughed, and you took the opportunity to admire him. It was no secret that Steve Harrington was attractive. “I like hanging out with you too. And I’m glad we dropped Tommy and Carol.”

“God, yeah. A lot less drinking too much.” He nodded.

“A lot less throwing up in your bathroom.”

“Yeah, that’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me in a bathroom.” Steve laughed dryly, and you sucked in a breath.

Right. Nancy.

It had been about four months since they’d broken up, and you still didn’t know if he was even over her.

After a short pause, Steve stood up, holding his hand out to you.

“Wanna get back out there?” He asked, hoping to relieve the sudden tension in the room.

With a nod, you took his hand and followed him out of the bathroom. Your hands lingered for a moment once you left the cramped bathroom, before they both fell to your sides. You held back a frown at the lack of warmth in your hand, smiling up at Steve as you moved through the crowd to get to the punch.

You grabbed two cups, filling them and handing one off to Steve before moving towards the makeshift dancefloor in the living room of Stacy Thompson’s house.

“Y/N-”

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” You had to raise your voice over the music, not caring to turn to see if Steve was following you. You knew he was.

By the time you reached the dancefloor, the song changed to a song you knew. Excitedly, you turned to Steve, grabbing his free hand in yours. He jumped back, raising his drink in an attempt to keep it from spilling on the expensive carpet.

“Whoa!” He says, a smile growing on his face.

“Dance with me, Steve!” You pull him towards the middle of the room, haphazardly taking a sip of your punch.

Reluctantly, he set his drink down on a nearby table and began to sway along to the music with you. You downed the rest of the punch and tossed it behind you with a grin. Steve sighed, mimicking the smile on your face as he took your other hand.

The moment was nice, and you prayed to anyone listening that nothing would ruin it.

Evidently no one was listening, because it wasn’t long before you felt cold liquid spill down the back of your shirt followed by all too familiar laughter.

“Fucking- shit!” You shrieked, reeling back and nearly falling into Steve’s arms.

“Oh, whoops. I think you got a little something-” Tommy’s smug face made you want to scream, but you stood stock still as the punch seeped into your shirt.

“Tommy, what the hell?” You don’t hear Steve get angry often, so the sternness in his voice makes your gaze snap from Tommy to him.

“It was an accident, Stevie-boy!” Tommy sneered, and you couldn’t help but notice that a couple people were staring. You suddenly regretted wanting to be in the middle of the dancefloor, sinking closer to Steve.

“I’m sure.” He muttered, placing a protective hand on your arm before stepping forward.

“What’re you gonna do Stevie, hit me? You couldn’t even take the Byers freak.” His voice was low, and you felt Steve’s grip tighten on your arm.

When he didn’t react, Tommy laughed loudly, turning to the kids around you that were paying attention.

“Would you look at that, King Steve really has turned bitch! Next thing you know your little girlfriend over here won’t be able to stand you either-” Steve’s fist connected with his face before he could say another word. You jumped back, eyes wide, barely registering that Tommy called you his girlfriend.

The world felt like it was in slow motion as you watched Tommy stumble to the ground, hand clutching his cheek. He was quick to recover, jumping back up and throwing a punch Steve’s way. You cringed, reaching out and grabbing Steve’s shirt gently to try to pull him from the fight. Tommy looked your way, his smile turning into more of a grimace.

“What, do you need your little pet to protect you from the big bad bullies of Hawkins High?” He reached for your arm, and before you could react Steve had Tommy on the ground.

“Don’t fucking call her that.” You heard before Steve threw another punch.

It didn’t take an idiot to realize Steve was clearly winning the fight, keeping Tommy on the ground as he hurled insults you didn’t care to listen to. While he wasn’t actively hurting Tommy anymore, you didn’t know how long it would be before someone like Billy would come along and decided to defend the shitbag.

“Steve!” He finally looked up when you spoke. You grabbed his arm, pulling him up onto his feet and towards the exit. He let you drag him outside of the house, only stopping in front of his car. “Jesus, Steve.” You muttered, folding your arms and sighing.

“Sorry, I uh, think I got a bit carried away there.” He kept his gaze on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets now.

“Well, thank you for defending my honor I guess.” Despite how worried you were about the growing bruise on Steve’s cheek, you cracked a smile.

“Yeah.” A ghost of a smile made its way onto Steve’s face before he fished his keys out of his pocket and unlocking his car.

When Steve started to drive back to your place, you glanced at his fist. A sigh escaped your lips as you realized you’d have to clean Steve up after recklessly getting into a fight again.

At least he won this time. You thought, remembering all too well the day Jonathan rightfully kicked his ass.

Steve put the car in park, and you looked outside to see that you were already at your house.

“Come on.” You said, getting out of the car. He gave you a strange look before complying.

“Why?” He asked as he followed you up the driveway and into your home.

“Well, someone’s gotta clean you up.” You grabbed his uninjured hand, pulling him up the stairs to the bathroom.

“Funny how we always end up here.” Steve smiles, taking a seat on the ground

“Funny how you keep getting into trouble.” You retort, grabbing the first aid kit under the sink and getting to work.

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader

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sundimus · 3 years

Text

Doki Doki Literature Club Secret Santa gift for the @ddlcgiftexchange for @maxcaulfield! Can also be read on my ao3. /// - - - ///

Monika missed Sayori. It’s not like she’s clingy or anything, and it’s not like Sayori is dead - god forbid. But she hasn’t shown up to school at all today, and being surrounded by people whose names and personalities belong to a wind Monika has no right to drift along with makes Sayori’s absence seem much more prominent. She wonders if her girlfriend - wow, that’s still so weird to say - is sick. It’s the middle of Winter and there’s been snow every day for the past few weeks. She’s surprised that she herself hasn’t gotten even a hint of a cold yet, considering how prone she is to seasonal changes. Best to not look a gift horse in the mouth, she thinks. She makes a plan to visit Sayori after school today. If she is sick then it can’t hurt to visit and keep her company while she recovers. Maybe she’ll have enough time to stop by the small cafe that’s a few blocks down the main road and pick up a small drink to bring over to Sayori’s place for her. A salted vanilla cream iced coffee topped with whipped cream and sprinkles, if they have any. Sayori’s favorite. It’s not her business to question her love’s taste in drinks, although she can’t help herself and questions it anyway. As long as she’s happy then that’s what matters in the end. Two fingers snap in front of her face and she looks up to see a slightly disgruntled Natsuki in front of her face and a curiously worried Yuri in behind her. “Earth to Monika,” Natsuki says as she leans back. “Yuri called your name like seven times.” “Actually it was five,” Yuri corrects. “If it wasn’t for the intense stare you were giving your desk I would’ve thought that I was being purposefully ignored, if I had to be honest. Are you feeling alright?” Monika feels a bit flustered at being caught in her thoughts. She didn’t realize how unaware she became of her surroundings. “Yes! Yes, sorry, I’m fine. I was just thinking -” about Sayori. “I was just thinking.” A beat passes, and the looks on both of the other girls’ faces tell her all she needs to know about how obvious her thoughts were to them. “Thinking... about Sayori?” Natsuki finishes for her, her question coming out more as a statement. Of course it’s obvious. She’s always thinking about Sayori. “Am I that predictable?” Natsuki bluntly replies “yeah” at the same time Yuri apologetically says “kind of.” Yuri puts a thread of her hair behind her ear and steps closer to sit in the desk next to Monika’s. “It’s just that... since you two have started dating two months ago you’ve been really... close?” she offers. Natsuki nods. “You guys have been filthily in love.” “Natsuki!” “What? I meant it in a good way.” Yuri sighed. “Of course.” She shifts her attention back to Monika. “Despite Natsuki’s unique description, she’s correct. You and Sayori had been almost inseparable since you’ve gotten together.” “Not like it’s a bad thing,” Natsuki assures. “As much as I complain about you two making constant kissy-eyes at each other, I gotta admit that it’s pretty sweet.” Yuri nods in agreement, and while Monika’s stomach gets riled up with thousands of embarrassment butterflies, her friends’ encouraging words fill her with giddiness. She reaches up and playfully pokes Natsuki’s right cheek, right where her single dimple lay. She’s both surprised and not at all shocked at the softness of it. “Funny how you two call us cute when you guys are downright adorable.” Both Yuri and Natsuki blush, the latter jerking her head back from her finger. “Yeah, yeah,” she mumbles. She points her own finger back at Monika. “Don’t try to change the subject! Sayori isn’t here and now you’re feeling all gloomy and stuff.” “Is she feeling unwell?” Yuri asks. “It’s quite unusual for her to miss a school day, but then again it’s also very cold and muggy outside now, and the weather has been getting worse these past few days.” “She might be feeling sick,” Natsuki says. “If she is sick then tell her to stay home and get better. I don’t want to get sick too.” “I’ll be sure to inform her of your concern, ‘Suki,” Monika promises. “I’m going to see her after school today to make sure she’s fine anyway.” “Good plan, but my warning extends to you too. Don’t come to school if you get sick.” “I won’t, I won’t.” “Make sure Sayori stays hydrated and washes her hands often,” Yuri also speaks up. Monika feels like she’s being talked to by two parents. “And make sure she’s eating properly, maybe something light and not too heavy, and -” Yuri pauses, trailing off for a second. “... Are we sharing poems today?” Monika thinks, resting her face in the palm of her hand. “Hmm... I think Sayori would want to read our poems with us. We could read it today and show her when she comes back, but I think she’d want to be here with us when we read it for the first time, so I’d hold off on it for now. If that’s alright with you two, of course.” Natsuki shrugs. “Fine by me. Honestly, it’ll give me time to look it over and see if I wanna change anything about it.” “Yes,” Yuri agrees. “I worked hard on my poem. I would prefer if all of us had the chance to read it together.” The school bell rang overhead, signaling the end of the school day. Monika got up, stretching her arms above her head. “Then we are in agreement. We’ll wait to share our poems until Sayori can join us. I’ll see you two tomorrow!” She slings her book bag over her shoulder and begins walking toward the classroom door. As she pushes the door open Natsuki’s voice rings through the classroom. “Can’t wait to read the love poem you wrote about Sayori, Moni!” Monika leaves, blushing hard, wandering what she did to deserve friends like this. So what if her poem may or may not have been about Sayori? She didn’t use her name. It could’ve been about anything. It could have been about a deer, or a pond, or the sun. Ah, well. As long as Sayori likes it then it doesn’t matter. /// - - - /// Monika walks down Sayori’s street, the cafe she wanted to stop by having been closed earlier due to bad weather. She bundles her scarf tighter as the snow crunches beneath her feet with puffs of frozen air escaping from her nose. Her face felt numb and cold by the time she moved her scarf to cover half of it, but she’s glad she thought ahead enough to take her mittens with her. Her ears already feel like they’re about to fall off, she doesn’t need her fingers to feel the same way. She walks faster when she spots the clear distinction of Sayori’s house in her vision. She opens the gate and walks through it, careful as she goes up the porch stairs to the front door. She knocks once, twice for good measure, and waits. ... There’s no answer. She knocks a third time, waiting a bit longer, but the result is the same. No answer. She looks to her right at the small potted, and now dead, succulent on the railing next to the door. She lifts it up to find the spare key to the house underneath it and picks it up to unlock the door. “Sayori!” Monika yells out in the house to make her presence known and not scare her. She slips her shoes off on the shoe rack next to the door, and shrugs off her Winter attire - putting her mittens in her coat and putting both her coat and scarf on the coat rack. “It’s Monika! Are you awake?” She hears a thud from somewhere upstairs with Sayori herself appearing at the the top of the stairs a moment later. She’s still in her pajamas and it doesn’t look like she brushed her hair yet today, but the smile she gives when she lays her eyes on Monika completely outshines any of her disheveled appearance. “Moni!” Sayori shouts, her voice crackling a bit. Monika guesses it’s because she either just woke up or because she hasn’t used it in a while. She rushes down the stairs to give Monika a hug, which was gladly reciprocated. “I didn’t know you were coming over today! I would have... cleaned up a little... heh.” The house is spotless. “Did I wake you up?” she asks, patting her back. “Nah, I’ve been awake since this morning. I was just laying in bed all day...” Sayori trails off, her embarrassment opening a deep form of understanding between the two of them that they both know too well. Today must have been one of her low days then. They don’t talk about her depression too often, and while some days are still off for the both of them, their recoveries - especially Sayori’s - have made remarkable progress. Monika leans back to look at her, having to look slightly down, and wraps her arms around her neck. “I just wanted to check up on you since you weren’t at school today.” “Thank you.” Sayori rests her palms on the small of Monika’s back. Her large green eyes started making her slightly flustered so she focuses her sight on a beauty mark close to one of the eyes, high up on her cheek. “I wanted to,” Monika repeats. She gently pushes back one of Sayori’s arms so she can hold her hand. “Besides, if I didn’t come here then Natsuki and Yuri would have forced me to. They think you have a cold or something.” Sayori looks down at their intertwined fingers fondly. “Nope! I’m perfectly healthy, except for the occasional sneeze. But other than that I’m okay.” She squeezes Monika’s hand and notices how her nose is still slightly red from the chill outside. “It’s chilly outside, isn’t it? Do you want some cocoa?” “Sure.” Monika’s relieved that Sayori isn’t actually ill - though the idea of taking care of her sick girlfriend isn’t awful. She knows a good mushroom soup recipe. Maybe she can be her taste tester one day. Sayori leads her through the house to kitchen located in the far back of it. Although the outside of the house is cloudy and gray, the kitchen window is shining enough light to considerably brighten the room. Sayori takes out a small, decently sized pot along with cocoa powder, sugar, chocolate chips, vanilla extract, and a bag of peppermint candies out of a neighboring cabinet while Monika grabs the milk out of the fridge. “Going all out, huh?” Monika teases. She knows that the vanilla flavoring is for Sayori while the peppermint candies are for her. She’s touched knowing that she keeps a bag of her favorite candy at home - especially since she herself doesn’t particularly enjoy the taste of it. Sayori smiles at her after pouring some milk in the pot. “It’s Winter! We gotta celebrate it with the most Winter-y drink known to mankind. Plus going “all out” means it’s just gonna be more delicious to drink.” Monika slides up behind her and wraps her arms around her stomach as she whisks in the cocoa powder and sugar, playfully moving both of them side to side slightly as she does so. “You’re right. Hot chocolate shouldn’t be served any other way.” Sayori moves with her, happily whisking away. She thinks that she should put a radio in here sometime so that they could dance together to some music. “Could you reach over and put some chocolate chips in here for me?” She does just that, moving over to open the bag and pouring some of the contents of it into the warm pot. After seeing them start to melt, she goes to grab the whipped cream out of the fridge. “Okay! It’s done!” Sayori announces. She helpfully pours the chocolate into two cups for them, adding the vanilla extract to her own while Monika takes a spoon and scoops some whipped topping onto both cups, putting the spoon in the sink and the cream back in the fridge afterwards. “Thanks,” Sayori says gratefully. She takes a couple of peppermint candies out of the bag and puts them on the table. “Now for the fun part!” “The best part,” Monika agrees. Both of the girls raise their hands up and immediately slam them down on the candies, crushing them into pieces. Monika picks up the remains and sprinkles them on her cup, completing her drink. With everything finished and the kitchen clean of their messes, they both start heading up towards Sayori’s room, carefully holding their drinks as to not spill it on the carpeted stairs. “I can’t wait to drink this,” Sayori says, pushing open her bedroom door with her hips. “It smells delicious.” “Be careful, though. Remember when we burnt our tongues on it last time?” “You mean when we dared each other to drink it without blowing on it or waiting for it to cool down?” “Yeah. I couldn’t taste anything for about three days.” “Do you wanna do that again?” “No.” Sayori laughs. They both move towards one side of the bedroom where two gigantic green and purple beanbag chairs rest against a wall and sit down them. The bags have seen some use, but they’re still nice and comfortable to sit on. They both spend a quiet moment sipping their drinks, Monika playfully knocking her feet against Sayori’s in a lazy game of footsie. Sayori smiles at her and pushes her own foot back softly. “Why didn’t you come to school today?” Monika asks as politely as she could. It’s not the best conversation starter, but she’s been curious and worried the entire day. Based on what Sayori said earlier she can easily guess, but she doesn’t want to make assumptions. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Sayori’s smile dimmed, though more out of embarrassment than displeasure. Monika feels a bit bad for asking, but she rests a comforting hand on her shoulder, giving her a soft and reassuring smile in return. Sayori leans into her touch, taking another sip of her drink before speaking. “I just had a bad day today.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.” She remembers never being able to talk about her feelings this easily. Her bad days and her sad days - she couldn’t talk about them without feeling guilty, like she did something wrong by not being constantly cheerful or happy. She remembers the first time she tried to open up to Monika about her feelings, way back when they were “just friends” unknowingly longing to be closer, and she could barely speak past the rock in her throat and the tears stinging her eyes. Monika had been patient though, and kind, and Sayori had slowly grown confident and comfortable enough to talk with her about her depression and anxiety without feeling judged or lonely. Sayori runs her finger around the rim of her cup idly. It’s almost empty. “I woke up this morning and my limbs felt like there were anvils laying on them. My bones felt heavy and I couldn’t get up.” “Did you go back to sleep?” She nods. “Yup! When I woke up I felt a lot better.” Monika grins. “Sounds like your medication is working.” “Yeah! It’s giving me a lot more energy. A year ago I probably would’ve just stayed in bed.” Monika tilts her cup and pours the rest of her drink in her mouth, finishing it. “Progress is progress, and I’m really proud of you for sticking to it. It makes me happy to see you getting better more and more each day.” “Really?” Sayori asks softly. Her own drink is empty by now and sits on her floor abandoned. “Really.” Sayori feels bashful, the corners of her mouth turning upward with incredible shyness. She scoots over in her beanbag chair to lean against Monika’s beanbag instead so she should lay her head on her lap. Monika herself wraps her arms around Sayori comfortably, one arm laying lazily on her stomach while the other one rests around the broad of her back, effectively cuddling her. This is a nice time for a nap, Sayori thinks as the minutes tick by, blinking her eyes slowly. The steady breathing of her girlfriend soothes her to tiredness, a beat constant and safe and real. A faint and noticeable tune matching the steady rhythm of her own small breathing. She almost thinks she can hear Monika’s heartbeat even though her head is on her thighs and nowhere near her chest. “Are you comfortable?” Monika teases. Her voice is a bit softer, perhaps because she’s also being slightly lulled into sleep. “I can’t replace your bed, you know, but I don’t mind being your pillow.” Sayori hums. “Sorry, I was just enjoying how warm you are and how our breathing almost seems in sync.” Monika huffs a laugh. “Almost sounds poetic.” “I got a lot of practice. Speaking of which, how was the clubs’ poems today?” “Actually we decided not to read our poems today. Everyone wanted to wait for you to come back before sharing them.” Sayori stares at her, surprised. “What? Really?” Monika pokes her cheek playfully. “Of course. Sharing our poems wouldn’t be the same without you there. You make them feel special.” Sayori feels flattered, a warm swarm of butterflies pooling in her stomach hearing that praise. “I can understand that. I couldn’t imagine not sharing my poems with one of you guys.” “Good thing we’re saving them for tomorrow then, hm?” Sayori still looks at her, taking in her slightly heart-shaped face and freckles scattered across her face like a constellation. Monika closes her eyes again, once more falling asleep. The walk all the way to Sayori’s house from the school made her a lot more tired than she realized. Seeing Monika like this, so peaceful and soft, fills Sayori with such fondness that she makes the quick and brash decision to lean up and place a swift kiss on her lips before she fully fell asleep. Unsurprisingly, she tastes like peppermint and chocolate. How fitting for someone like her. Monika cracks one eye open at her and smiles. “Now that’s not really fair, is it? Kissing me when I’m not even looking at you.” She leans down to place her own sweet kiss on Sayori. Kissing can’t magically fix everything, but it’s a start.

#doki doki literature club #sayonika #sayori #monika #maxcaulfield #Q #ddlcgiftexchange2020 #shay writes

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thekidultlife · 4 years

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Through the Seasons | Seungcheol (COMPLETED)

Author’s Note:

Please read this before continuing on to the fic! 😊 If you’ve read the first part of this story which I posted in a rush during my birthday, please. scrap. all. your. thoughts. about. it. Having completed it now, I truly regretted rushing to post it just to meet a deadline; that won’t happen again lol. 😂 I plan to write more slowly and carefully from now on because I want to be able to look back and read my stories without too much regret over how I could have written them better. I hope that you enjoy this one, and please look forward to this series! My plan is to alternate writing “The Return Of Superman”, “The And” and “Through The Seasons” during the coming weeks/months.

Birthday Greetings: This fic is one that I wrote as a gift, not only to our amazing SVT leader and my ultimate bias who deserves THE ENTIRE WORLD, Seungcheol (🥺❤), but also to my good friend, @peekabooseoksoon! Belated Happy Birthday! 🙆‍♀️ I hope you get to love this fic!!! 😄

Tags: I’d like to mention @coupsiekkuma, @minkwans, @eclvpe, @haven-cove, @nrhfzh, @iwalktheline97, @woozisnoots, @shoshishua, @toxicsocial, @elcie-chxn, @yslmingyux, @gostickywombat, @uglyratlmao, and @starlightshua!

Plot: Two people form memories, navigate through hardships and—most of all—learn to love each other more through the seasons of their relationship.

Warnings: Marked 18+ for suggestive content

Word Count: 10,386

1 | summer, as the night wind whispered

Bright lights flooded the town square through the colorful lanterns that hung in lines and swayed idly. The air was filled with the smell of mingling perfumes, food and beer. The cobbled streets were packed with people, of different ages, walking through the stalls that sold native handicrafts and trinkets. Tables that were laid out in the center of the square kept getting occupied as the twilight dissipated into a dark sky full of stars. Music from guitars, bagpipes and dulcimers wafted around, competing with the blare of jukeboxes playing songs from eras long past, classics that everyone still loved to sing and dance to.

One month ago, no one would have thought that this town would be celebrating like this.

A violent storm had hit and destroyed almost everything in its path, and a sense of despair had engulfed the people living there. The winds and the heavy rain had been bad, but the landslides really made things worse. Even at present, as the town held its celebration, helicopters could be seen hovering above the mountains that surrounded the town proper, their searchlights flashing here and there, aiding rescuers who made their way around the dark, slippery terrain, looking for missing people or houses that had vanished underneath mounds of trees, dark rock and soil.

Despite the tragedy and the uncertainty that hung in the air, however, the townspeople had been resilient. Pooling their resources, and seeking help from neighboring towns and cities, they managed to recover most of their losses and found cause to celebrate as houses, businesses and landmarks began to be restored.

Sitting on one of the tables, watching the merriment all around them, were three men, sipping on their beers, wearing jackets that identified them as university students hailing from a city five hours away. They, along with a group of other volunteer workers from their uni, had come to help and were now celebrating the last day of volunteer work. Just across the street, by the small parking lot of the town’s only hotel, vehicles were lined up, readied for the departure in the early morning. These three men expected to be on the first bus going home tomorrow.

The first two sitting across each other kept commenting idly about how hectic the day had been, but the third guy, nursing his drink close to his lips, was scanning the flow of people, his huge, sparkling eyes flitting to and fro. He could not process what his friends were talking about. He was too busy watching who came and went as the festivities rolled on.

“Choi Seungcheol, have you found her yet?” Yoon Jeonghan asked, lazily grinning. His dark brown hair fell down his eyes and he raked them back with his fingers. He glanced at his friend before turning back to the buoyant scenery. A crowd seated on the table next to them roared with laughter.

“I haven’t,” Seungcheol replied lightly, taking another swig. “But I will.”

Seungcheol’s seemingly dogged determination made the guy sitting across Jeonghan chuckle. “This will be a very interesting night,” Hong Jisoo said softly, smirking at Jeonghan’s direction. “Cheol won’t let up finding this mystery woman.”

“I, for one, think that we’ve had an interesting day already,” Jeonghan answered dryly, leaning back on his metal chair, “and an uncomfortable one at that. I didn’t like the fact that we had to follow someone for a whole day, all because some guy couldn’t just walk up to her and ask her out.”

At that, Seungcheol turned to Jeonghan and glared at him playfully. “Shut up.”

“Cheol is acting funny,” Jeonghan teased. “Isn’t he, Jisoo-ya?” Jisoo laughed and clinked bottles with Jeonghan in agreement.

“I have my reasons,” Seungcheol said defensively, turning back to the crowd. “I couldn’t find the right timing.”

“Oooh,” Jeonghan cooed. “The right timing.”

“I said shut your trap, Jeonghan. I think you’re drunk.”

“I will be if you still don’t find her.”

“You could dance with some of our other friends out there while we wait.”

“You know I’m too tired for that.”

Jisoo laughed again. “You could not find the right timing? After all the days you’ve spent here?”

“Complete bull.” Jeonghan grinned.

Suddenly Seungcheol stood, setting his beer bottle down so hard on the wooden table that Jisoo and Jeonghan could not help but complain in unison about the abrupt movement. However, they quieted down when they saw Seungcheol’s expression.

“That’s her.” Seungcheol pointed somewhere in the throng of people, his eyes wide, his countenance suddenly alight and stone-cold sober. The night breeze blew on his close-cropped hair as he looked on.

His words were almost drowned out by the cacophony of voices and music all around them, but Jisoo and Jeonghan looked at each other knowingly, hearing his words perfectly.

`“Well?” Jisoo brought his drink to his lips, eyeing Seungcheol with a devious glint in his eyes.

A few moments passed, with Seungcheol simply standing there.

The right timing.

He broke off into a run.

He ran past tables and stalls and dancing couples, startling people along the way. His feet took him flying across the cobbled streets lined with lanterns, towards a spot by the exit of the square where stalls sold summer flowers. His heart pounded within his chest as he sprinted, his eyes never leaving what they had been watching for throughout the young night.

As he ran, he forgot how silly he had felt when, exactly five nights ago, he had hopped onto one of the buses leaving campus for the volunteer program. His only reason for joining had been his need for an adventure away from the city. He would have no other time for anything extracurricular in the months to come. The bar exam was looming over his mind, and before he poured himself solely to the task of preparing for it, he wanted to get away.

He remembered how you had stretched out a hand to greet him even before sitting down beside him.

Hi. You had smiled and he had felt like he was staring at the sun as you told him your name. Classical composition. You?

Non-music major, he had replied with a quick, albeit apologetic smile to return yours. I got on this bus by mistake.

Oh, that’s okay, you had said good-naturedly, winking at him, you don’t have to worry. We’re very good company.

And you were.

As he ran, he forgot how tired he was. He had followed you and the other volunteers around all day, up and down the mountains, giving out boxes of food and clothing to the families that had been affected by the calamity. The first four days hadn’t been as grueling as this last one. But it had been worth it.

He forgot, too, how sorry he felt for his friends, who didn’t know what they had signed up for when they followed him to this town to check up on him.

All he could remember was the flush on his cheeks when he had watched as your fingers strummed at a guitar, and how he could not help but hang on to the sweet lilt of your voice when you opened your mouth to sing.

"Deep breath and wipe those tears // Take heart and face those fears // We'll find a reason, // something to cling to; // We won't abandon // you. // There's hope in this season, // too."

All he could remember was the comfort that washed over the faces of the people who were listening, back at the orphanage in the mountains, where evacuees had taken up temporary residence.

He forgot about everything else and just ran, ran, and ran towards the only thing that mattered in his mind.

He had found you.

There you were—your hair rustling in the wind, wearing a billowing white dress that came down just beneath your knees and a knapsack that hung loosely on one shoulder, laughing with little children who were selling what looked like different sorts of flowers. You bent down to reach for a bouquet, and then lifted it to your nose, closing your eyes as you inhaled the scent.

Seungcheol drew to a stop as he neared you. His breaths slowed into pants, but his restless heart still fluttered faster than it would normally do.

Before he could lose his courage, he walked slowly to you.

He didn’t know what to say to you yet. After the bus ride, he only saw you every now and then, among the hundred volunteers that had joined. And all day long today, when he knew that he could not put off speaking to you anymore, he had been thinking about how he could approach you without scaring you off. There was one point this evening, after a little bit of beer, when he had felt like he could be brave enough to speak to you the moment he finds you.

But now, standing before you, he was tongue-tied, unable to say anything at all.

Sensing his presence, you turned, looking directly at him, still laughing, your hands holding a bouquet close to your face.

For precious brief seconds, the both of you just stood there, the night breeze beckoning as it made its sweeping touch upon both your clothes, trying to unchain you from where you both stood—whispering, it seemed, as it touched skin, Closer.

It was you who broke the ice.

“That was quite a run,” you commented humorously, your eyes filling with a gentle light. “Did I drop my wallet or something?”

Seungcheol laughed, blushing at the same time before scratching his head. He didn’t know that you had noticed him running. “Uh, no. Sorry. I must have startled you.”

“You told me during our bus ride that you came just to have some fun,” you said softly, your eyes taking in this handsome man before you and the jacket he wore. “But I saw how you worked hard, especially today. Thank you for coming with us.”

“And thank you for your songs,” Seungcheol replied, smiling. There was no flattery in his voice when he said this to you, only interest and admiration and another emotion that he himself could not clearly define at that moment.

Your eyes widened. “You listened?”

Seungcheol cocked his head to the side, hands in his pockets, still smiling. “All three songs, the whole afternoon.”

You grinned. “Ah. I didn’t know that I was in the presence of a fan. So…” one corner of your mouth turned up playfully, “…you ran all that way—” you motioned at the brilliant lights of the festival that was behind you both, “—not because I dropped my wallet somewhere around the bazaars and you picked it up by chance…but because—you loved my songs,” you grinned as you said this, “and you wanted my autograph. Was that it?”

He stifled a laugh, but it still bubbled out of his lips. “No. To be honest, I was going to ask you something else.” Seungcheol’s kind, hooded eyes smiled along with his lips. Courage surged inside him, just when he needed it. “Would you like to dance with me?”

Your slow smile answered his question before you even spoke.

“Yes.”

Closer, the wind whispered as you ran, laughing, with Seungcheol, back into the bright lights where the lanterns swayed, his hand not letting go of yours. And as Seungcheol pulled you close to him by the waist, your body arched up against him, and you threw your arms around his neck. You danced to the slow music, with Seungcheol’s eyes lighting up like the lanterns and his delighted laughter as melodious as the strings that strummed soulful tunes through the night.

Not far from where you danced, watching and making funny but adoring commentaries about how Seungcheol sucked at dancing, Jeonghan and Jisoo clinked bottles.

“It did become an interesting night.”

The town, in the morning, was greeted by blue skies and the young heat of summer. Business went back to normal, with the townsfolk reverting to their quiet, slow-paced lives in the fields and the mountains where their houses and livelihoods were nestled. The square held its usual number of regulars, some laying on the soft grass and others spreading colorful cloths around for picnics. Bicycles and occasional cars passed by.

There were no more buses that lined outside the tall, eighty-year-old hotel that was the pride of the town. No more guys wearing university jackets, no more stalls that lined the cobbled sidewalks.

Everything had gone back to how they were.

But traces of the festival night still popped up here and there in that sleepy old town.

High up the mountains, in the orphanage, children sang your songs and your words lingered on their lips. Some of them still had chocolates and candy from yesterday, leftovers from what their volunteer friends had given them as treats before heading back to the city. A plaque commemorating those who donated and came to help could be seen inside the town hall. And the gratitude people felt in their hearts as they watched their town being rebuilt made them remember their friends who had left in the early morning.

Some traces, too, weren’t just found in town. Some you brought home with you.

In that morning, you and Seungcheol were already five hours away, on a bus terminal, getting woken by the driver, who told you that you were now back in the city.

You had both missed the bus rides back to campus, but that was okay.

With your bags slung on your backs, you talked about Seungcheol’s upcoming bar exam, your major and getting breakfast somewhere. The impress of his touch on the small of your back as he gently guided you through the crowded streets reminded you of how you had felt when you danced with him all night. You blushed as he playfully protested about how his arms had gone numb when he woke up with you in his arms. Laughing with him as you both strolled along the hectic streets of the city, you found that you liked how Seungcheol’s voice sounded and how he would look you in the eyes intently whenever you would start to tell him something, no matter how interesting or uninteresting it would be. There was something intuitive and perceptive about him, something that you don’t normally see with guys that you had tried to get to know before. You liked that uniqueness in Seungcheol.

Sitting across him, eating your burger as you watched him type his number on your phone, you felt something new begin. And when he unconsciously reached out to take your hand while inside a cab that morning, you just knew, that you had both found in each other a memento from that summer night up in the mountains, in a town slowly recovering from a calamity, a town of cobbled streets and music and the wind that had teased and whispered, Closer.

2 | autumn, beneath the glowing streetlamps

Almost every sunset since the leaves started falling and the sky started to become painted in reddish-golden splendor, as people hurried along sidewalks or streets or in their bicycles and cars before rush hour set in, you would find yourself racing, racing and racing into Cheol’s waiting arms, warm and safe from the dropping temperatures and the cruel life of being an assistant producer for a crueler entertainment company.

There would be times when you would immediately look up from burying yourself in the warmth of Seungcheol’s embrace, smile sweetly up at his face and say in cute tones, “Hi, baby!”

There would be times when you would wrap your arms around his neck and stand on tiptoes to treat him with kisses as he laughed and whispered, “I missed you” in your ear.

And there would also be times when you would linger beneath his coat, shutting out all the bustling noises around you, eyes closed, and your words an almost unintelligible murmur on his chest. “Let’s stay like this for a while, please?”

You would then feel him kiss your hair, nuzzle your face, replying softly, “Bad day?” before hugging you tighter and tilting your head up so he could give you one of his infamous pep talks. He would then be kissing you with a laugh when you would start to complain that he sounded like a lecturer you had back in your uni days.

It had been three years since you danced with the wind during that summer night, and your sunsets during this third autumn season with Seungcheol by your side usually consisted of these sweet embraces and small but meaningful whispers of affection.

But today, the sunset was different.

You are still racing through the streets, running, running and running, your coat and hair flying in the wind. But Choi Seungcheol—always standing out anywhere he went with his height and broad shoulders, huge coats and quick smiles—was nowhere among the crowd. And you now halted to a stop, catching your breath, eyes frantically searching for taxis as the dark blue and violet shades of the nighttime sky started to replace the golden sheen of the sunset.

Once you could get on one, you immediately gave out the address, telling the driver as nicely as possible to step on it. Then you leaned back on the plush leather seat, sighing loudly, looking through the car window as you sped past the city’s grey skyscrapers and its lights and the rush of commute. You listened to the noise of cars honking, of motorcycles zipping past your cab, and chatter from commuters as you sometimes halted at crosswalks. You observed these people rushing to and fro, eager to be where they needed to be. You engaged in pleasant talk with the driver, complimenting his choice of music, even confiding in him that you had helped make the second song that played.

Soon, you came to a place where the pulsing, white and yellow lights of the city softened into golden hue as the skyscrapers were replaced by townhouses and apartments, homey restaurants, little shops and an occasional clinic here and there. Passersby were not rushing in this part of the city. Rather, families were walking hand in hand, dads sometimes carrying their kids on their backs, laughing as they entered diners and restaurants. Old women in flowery dresses shuffled up the steps of their apartment, with their husbands or cats following closely. Lovers and students with their friends laughed softly as they quietly strolled down the sidewalks, amazed at the beauty of the coming night and the sighing of trees as their leaves fell. You smiled at a woman you knew as the cab slowed. And when it stopped, you got out, blinking as your eyes adjusted beneath the glowing light of the streetlamps, looking around.

This was your neighborhood. This was your world when five o'clock came and you were released from the pressure of work. This was your safety net when you felt like drowning. This was your home turf.

And there he was, just as you knew he would be. He probably went straight home after court. He probably thought he could mask everything that had happened when he had rested enough. He probably didn’t want you to worry.

Yes, there he was. Walking slowly to his car, shoulders slumped, his phone in his hand, probably going to shoot you a message that he was on his way to pick you up, he just ran a little late today. His head was bent down as he scrolled through his phone. His other hand was holding his briefcase, his most prized possession as a criminal lawyer. He didn’t see you coming towards him yet. But as he looked up from his phone to open the car door, his eye caught sight of you and he stopped, his hand on the door handle.

Immediately, Seungcheol’s despondent expression changed. His face lit up into a smile that almost didn’t look tired, his shoulders straightened up and he cocked his head to the side like he always does when he sees you looking at him, his now ash-blond hair touching his forehead. “Baby!” he called out endearingly, his free arm wide open.

There, beneath the glowing streetlamps, you ran up to him and wrapped him in a tight embrace, your feet on tiptoes, one of your hands raking through his hair, the other caressing his back, whispering his name over and over in relief. He’s here with me. Everything’s going to be alright.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, worried about you even at this time when you knew that he needed you more than you needed him now. “Did something happen at work?”

“No,�� you whispered in his ear, still smoothing his hair, holding him close. “And let’s not talk about my work tonight.” You leaned back so you could look into his face. Your hands ran through the soft, ash-blond locks on his forehead. Now that you looked at him closely, you saw that he looked pale and drawn, utterly exhausted with his day. “Oh, baby.” You touched his face and he held your hand close to him like that, closing his eyes as he let out a huge breath.

Standing on tiptoes as the streetlamps glowed brighter and brighter in the night, as the trees shed red, gold and brown leaves and as people passed you by, each off to their respective evenings, you gave Choi Seungcheol a tender kiss.

He sighed shakily as your lips touched his. He trembled underneath your touch; it was as if all his carefully put-up defenses might fall apart in that moment.

And they did, right when you whispered against his lips, as gently as you could, “It’s not your fault.”

Tears fell from his closed eyes like the trees lining the sidewalk, weeping away their precious foliage. You felt his body heave into choking, unmanly sobs as he buried his face down your shoulder, his hold on you so tight that you felt just how much pain he was trying to release. The briefcase lay forgotten at your feet as his arms pulled you as close as he could to him.

Seungcheol couldn’t say anything, but you knew about everything already; the city may be vast and diverse, but news travels fast. There was no need for him to explain. You knew enough, and that was all you needed.

“Shhh,” you whispered, tears falling from your face as well, your chest aching at the sight of your man—this man who liked to look okay in front of you all the time—bent, broken, and crying. “You’ll be alright.” Your arms tightened around Seungcheol, and you closed your eyes. “You’ll be alright.”

There was a comforting lull as you both stayed that way for a while, not minding who saw you, not minding the time. Tonight, he needed you, and you wanted him to know that he could hold you for as long as he wanted. For as long as he needed. When you had felt like he had calmed a bit, you asked him, “Bad day?” Even though you already knew the answer, he wouldn’t be able to talk about it freely if you didn’t ask.

You felt him smile sheepishly on your neck. “Yeah.” He sighed and buried his face onto your shoulder. “Bad day.”

“Oh, baby.” You hugged him tighter.

“I’m sorry. I know that I’m not usually like this—”

“—I like it better when you lean on me, too.” You patted his back comfortingly, over and over. “I know that you don’t want to talk about it yet, at least, not right now, but I’ll always be ready to listen, okay?”

“Okay.”

“No rush. But you can tell me everything when you feel ready.” You pulled away to stare into his puffy eyes. “I must say, though,” you commented with a bit of humor, “that red does not suit your eyes when it’s like that.” You smirked at him as his expression softened and his laughter came. You took out a handkerchief from your coat pocket and dabbed it underneath his eyes and his cheeks. “Doesn’t matter anyway,” you muttered lightly, knowing how much your nonsensical words would make him smile, “you still look good even when you cry.”

Seungcheol groaned. “Stop.” Then he kissed your forehead. “Thank you.” For making me feel better. You saw the words in his eyes, which began to sparkle again with a gentle light. He grinned at you, and a little bit of the sadness painted on his face seemed to dissipate.

You grinned back at him, and you held out a hand.

“Can we go home now?”

Seungcheol grasped your hand tightly and smiled. “Yes.”

The streetlamps glowed brighter as the dark ink of the night swallowed the brilliant colors of the dusk, and you both blended in with the people who were around you, walking towards whatever lay ahead for them in the coming night.

Seungcheol didn’t tell you about what happened that day in court. He didn’t tell you about what had made him cry like that when you found him. He didn’t offer any explanation.

And you let it stay that way. You watched him from your perch on the duvet in your living room. He sat on the couch, poring over binders that held one-inch-thick documents and every now and then scribbling something on a legal pad. You watched him whisper to himself as he typed incessantly on his laptop. Paraphernalia from whatever he was working on was scattered on the floor in an order that only he could understand. You watched him for a time as he kept on working. This was how he was whenever something from his work would haunt him: he would meticulously go over where he went wrong (or where he thought he went wrong), and he would passionately redo that area until he was satisfied. He would anxiously (and sometimes even a bit obsessively) review each argument, each line, over and over again.

Judging from his expression and from how he couldn't seem to stop doing this cycle of reading/writing/whispering, you knew that whatever piece of courtroom action he had brought home with him had truly gotten to him.

You watched and watched, and then you gave up watching him. You hated seeing him become so immersed into a case because you've seen him like this before, and you hadn't liked how it affected him physically and mentally.

You wondered about what you could do for him. Nothing came to mind.

Sighing, you rose up from your seat, a bottle of beer in your hand. You padded softly towards the other side of the room, where an unvarnished upright piano was.

You lifted the cover and you let your fingers run across the ivory keys. You sat down. As you stared down at the keys, a melody you’ve never sung before formed on your lips. You found the right key, and you began to play the melody that you hummed.

Slowly, scenery came to life in your mind, along with the words that painted its description beautifully.

“Autumn days of glory // autumn days of peace // red and golden splendor // in the sky and trees…”

You didn’t know where the words would lead, but you let your hands and your heart take flight. You let them come straight home where they needed to be. You let them express what you couldn't do in any other way.

“Fall is often like // a season of pure bliss // But fall is also when // change happens to things.”

You remembered the moment you shared with Seungcheol a few hours ago, outside. You let your hands play on as more lines went out of your lips, giving voice to the emotions you had felt and painted the picture in your mind with.

“Let me touch your face // let me dry those tears // let me help you brace // for the colder winds…”

You heard footsteps behind you, but the song still flowed out of your lips as your heart poured out what it wanted to say through the music's timeless language.

“Autumn days of glory // autumn days of peace // let me stand on tiptoes // let me give you a kiss…”

You felt his arms around you, and you felt the touch of his lips on your neck.

You found the last chord, and you leaned against him.

You stayed like that for a long time.

Your hand caressed one of his arms as you sang softly, “I will hold you close // I will dry your tears // I will help you brace // for the colder winds…”

You felt him breathe deeply, and you felt his arms tighten around you. And when he turned your face to him to give you his most tender kiss, you knew that he had chosen to leave his books and legal pads and that case that haunted him. You knew that he had chosen, no matter how hard it was, to put the bad day behind him.

As he carried you up from that hard, unvarnished piano bench where you sat and onto the soft satin comfort of your bedroom sheets, you just knew. You just knew that no matter how bad days in the future might get, as long as you had each other, there would always be peace at the end. That both of you would always choose peace at the end.

That night, as the last of the leaves on the trees fell, and as Seungcheol's bare skin cleaved to yours, he bared his thoughts to you. You both stared at the naked truth of his anxiety, his worries. Hesitantly, at first, he let you in on his deepest fears.

That night was the beginning of honesty at its purest between you two. That night, you treated each other like the Bible where you had seen Seungcheol swear the truth and nothing but the truth countless times. That night, you both found safety in each other as you unmasked the pretenses that you both still put up for the sake of looking brave.

That night, too, you both decided that there was no other way to overcome bad days, except to overcome it together.

When the streetlamps stopped burning brightly and another day came around, you both stepped out of the apartment, hand in hand, the warm glow on your faces obviously not coming from the sun, which had risen in a useless effort to bring warmth against the cold.

You both went your separate ways, disappearing amongst the thousands of people who rushed about as the sleepless city burst with renewed life.

Well, bad days, fire away, you thought to yourself as you tightened your scarf around your neck. After that night, the impending doom of a long day failed to break your spirit.

You had Seungcheol, and Seungcheol had you. Everything would be okay. You both just knew: everything would be okay.

Later that day, another golden dusk settled across the skyline. You raced down the busy sidewalks of the city again, looking out for a cab. The holiday season was almost upon you, and the air already had a festive spirit to it. As you glanced up and down the lanes of vehicles halting at the red light, your eye caught a figure to your left, among the crowds.

Waving his hand, his eyes alight, his smile as bright as it was during those first few days that leaves fell from trees, there was Seungcheol, wearing his huge coat, holding his briefcase and waiting, as he had always done, for you.

Smiling jubilantly, you ran to him, pushing against crowds of people, eager to become enveloped into his safe, warm embrace.

You were tired. It had been a very busy day: meetings, songwriting sessions, planning music video sets with other staff, and doing final checks on a concert stage took up most of your energy. But in Seungcheol’s arms, the fatigue you felt slowly washed away.

"Baby," you whispered, closing your eyes as you leaned against his chest. You felt his kisses on your hair and you smiled. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but does that smile mean that you helped save the world today?"

At your words, you felt Seungcheol drew in a sharp breath. You felt his teeth sink into your shoulder playfully as his body reverberated with giggles.

"Please stop making me blush in public, babe!"

The forecast had said that temperatures would be at its lowest yet, but as you kept making jokes while basking in the music of Seungcheol’s laughter, you never felt the cold during that last sunset of autumn.

3 | winter, by the hearth

“And everything in time and under heaven finally falls asleep // Wrapped in blankets white, all creation shivers underneath.”

Like magic, the words you sang out perfectly described the hushed, dreamy landscape that unfurled before Seungcheol's eyes. Snowflakes in their different designs fell softly on the ground and on your nose as you walked, hand in hand, wrapped in your warmest, heaviest winter clothing. You were walking towards the huge family house that belonged to your maternal grandparents, and you were both enchanted by the frozen beauty of the vast garden you were walking through. And as if the sight of imposing life-sized statues and the creaking, barren trees lining the footpath wasn't enough, the series of mountains to the left of the property also peeked out from the stone walls, revealing their snow-covered peaks and adding a magical feeling to the scenery.

It was the first time that you would bring Seungcheol to a dinner with all of your extended family, and Seungcheol knew from the way that you smiled at him a lot that you were excited.

Excited, and something else.

Despite the mixed expressions on your face that he could not quickly decipher to get a clear understanding of, Seungcheol returned your smiles. “How long has it been since you came here?” he asked, stepping over a mound of ice and snow that had formed along the pavement.

“Years." You looked up at him again, and you smiled wider. "It shows on my face that much, huh? How thrilled I am at having my whole family meet you?"

Seungcheol smirked. "I don't know how to get my family together like this. Do your grandparents hold gatherings like this often?"

"Not really. But they've been missing their children and us grandchildren, so…" you cleared your throat and paused. "Baby, do I look like Christmas lights are strung up on my face? Because my cousins tease me about my smile whenever I get excited.”

The brightness in your voice had dropped a notch, and Seungcheol examined your face again. “Well you do look excited, but I wouldn't worry about your face. You always look beautiful…"

You probably did not hear him, because you had let go of his hand to run ahead, towards the widespread arms of a very handsome old man who seemed to have the same light like yours in his eyes and the same humor on his smile like yours.

Seungcheol hurried towards you and your grandfather, and he bowed respectfully.

"So this is the lucky man," your grandfather commented humorously, shaking Seungcheol's hand heartily. "Come in, come in! Best to get out of the cold." Your grandfather shivered animatedly, and you laughed, leaning against him as you walked in.

You seemed fine. Seungcheol smiled and entered the double doors after you.

The house was spacious and welcoming, designed with warm wood tones and bursting to life with patches of greenery here and there. The wooden beams and pillars that supported doorways were intricately carved with floral swirls and patterns, and the furniture style accentuated the vibrant yet homey tones. The smell of food and wine and the sound of logs being thrown into a fireplace filled Seungcheol's senses. Holiday music played in the background, and soft laughter from one of the rooms to the far right of the hall made Seungcheol guess that some family members have already arrived before you did.

As he walked on, straightening his clothes, he ran smack-dab into a woman who looked a lot like you but was very much unlike you either. Seungcheol would never see you wearing a power suit in bold colors like this woman. The man behind her smiled at Seungcheol and offered a hand.

"Oooh, so this is my cousin Y/N's boyfriend!" The woman grinned. She held out a well-manicured hand. "I'm Sana, and this is my husband, Minhyuk. You’re Seungcheol, right?"

"Yes. Very nice to meet you," Seungcheol answered, his face lighting up when he saw you with a smile on your face, walking towards Sana. Sana is one of my favorite cousins, you had told him earlier. She's the loudest among all of us, but she's a really good person who took care of me a lot when I was younger.

Sana leaned close to Seungcheol, and he was once again struck by how her brown eyes looked a lot like yours. But hers, he observed, had a mischievous glint, while yours always had a gentle light in them.

"You'd better be prepared for this family dinner," Sana whispered conspiratorially, "and don't let your guard down. Watch your manners--"

"--oh, come on, Sana," you groaned, pulling Seungcheol away, laughter in your voice. "It won't be that bad!"

"Don't say I didn't warn you! And sit beside me during dinner!" Sana's red-lipped smile made Seungcheol suddenly wonder what you both were talking about. You were both inside the parlor now, where drinks were being served and the people inside were more formal: quieter and older members of the family were either seated or standing around, wine glasses in their hands, conversing as they studied the portraits that hung around the room. A young man sat by one of the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of the parlor, his fingers flying across the ivory keys of the grand piano. The fire crackled as a man added more logs. Your grandfather was nowhere in sight.

Seungcheol wondered why your smile did not reach your eyes once these people started to come and greet you with their hugs and kisses. He wanted to ask if you were okay because you had grown quieter. Occasionally glancing at you as he introduced himself to members of the family, he noticed that your whole countenance had changed.

The smiles and the laughter coming from you still rang true in his ears, but as your hands clasped before you as you engaged in conversation with an aunt of yours, you showed him a side of you that he had never seen before: very composed, very somber, very careful. The only relief that seemed to show on your face was when your parents finally came in, and Seungcheol was glad for the respite from your strained expressions and gestures. Your smile at them as they embraced you warmly was the only smile that reached your eyes throughout the whole introductory phase of the gathering.

"I'm so glad you're here, Seungcheol!" your mother said cheerfully, adding a warmth that Seungcheol hadn't felt in the room since you had both walked in. In fact, of all the people he had greeted today, nobody he'd met in this side of your family eased the tension he had been feeling since your voice changed on the way in. "My family has been waiting to see you for ages!"

Seungcheol kissed your mother's cheek and shook your father's hand, engaging in pleasant small talk with them. He had spent a lot of holidays and vacations with your parents, and they had been very enjoyable ones. In this fifth year of your relationship, though, you had quietly asked him if he wanted to go see your grandparents with you. He had known from the expression on your face that seeing your grandparents was an important family affair; and he knew now, too, why you had looked so anxious.

Everyone walked into the dining room once the clock in the parlor struck six o'clock. A long table heaped with food and beverages on glassware greeted all of you. Seating yourselves, Seungcheol held your hand underneath the table, squeezing it reassuringly. You squeezed his back.

Seungcheol's eyes caught Sana's on the far side of the room. She was sitting on the opposite end of the table with Minhyuk, and she cocked her head to the side, mouthing words that looked like, "Sit here, you two!", gesturing at a couple of seats beside them that soon got taken by another cousin and his parents. Sana made a face, and Seungcheol grinned. You were busy talking with another cousin, Samuel, who had also brought his partner with him. Seated at the far end of the table, near the empty seat of your grandfather, Seungcheol waited for dinner to begin.

Clinks of glasses and forks and knives slicing through meat and spoons ladling soup were the background music to the words that this huge family exchanged. Laughter rippled through the room, and slowly, the tension and formality that shaped conversations a while ago stopped.

"Is that Counselor Choi from the City Prosecutor’s Office?"

The matronly voice made everyone's heads turn, and all laughter died down.

Seungcheol saw your grandmother for the first time.

Dinner had long since started, but the way she gracefully sat down and the way her shoulders were set back made everyone excuse her for being late. Your grandfather silently took his place beside you, and you exchanged sweet smiles with him. Seungcheol watched as your grandfather leaned towards you, and he heard words like, “…talk to her…” come from his lips. Nervous energy engulfed the dinner table, and Seungcheol's ears must have been fooling him, because every clink and scrape of knives, and even the music, seemed to stop.

Your grandmother, beautiful despite her age, laid her eyes upon Seungcheol. Her eyes were neither kind nor cruel. The aloofness there could have thrown any stranger off, but the spark of interest that lit up her eyes compelled Seungcheol to return her gaze and to answer.

"Yes, ma'am." He could have called her something else, but this aura she exuded seemed to ask for something that formal. "Thank you for inviting me."

When she smiled, her expression was guarded as well. "My granddaughter is very fortunate to have met you. And you're welcome. Please, eat."

After greeting the other girlfriends, boyfriends, husbands and wives seated around, the rest of the conversation was directed at other members of the family. Seungcheol learned that this side of your family was involved in medical and tourism careers. You were the only one he knew that had a different path from the rest of them. This hadn’t been obvious when he spent time with your parents, but on this table, careers and what you are doing to succeed in that career seemed to be very important. Careers steered the conversation.

"Ahyoung is planning on setting up a pediatric practice, Mother,” one aunt said as she set down her spoon. “She wasn't able to come because she had to tie up some loose ends with the clinic renovation."

"Working through the holidays? Ahyoung must be wanting to surpass my record as a workaholic." Chuckles around the table could be heard at this amusing remark from Grandmother. "The president of the hospital in that town is a friend of mine who could help her establish her practice. Tell her to give me a call so I can help her get in touch with him. How about you, Jaemin? I saw you on TV a week ago. You announced the opening of a...what was that...a museum?"

"A shrine recreation, Grandmother. We're currently in the process of recreating an entire temple from the Silla era. My archaeology team hit a huge find down south when they found the remains of what we initially thought was a hidden metropolis in the mountains. Turns out that was this temple where priestesses tried to read the stars—”

“—if you need a priestess to make your shrine look more realistic, you can hire me." Sana broke in as she winked at Jaemin, who immediately looked flustered. Younger cousins of yours immediately began doing their best to hold back their laughter and Seungcheol felt you giggle quietly beside him, too, as you drank your glass of wine.

"Sana, instead of ridiculing your older brother, why don't you tell us about the latest findings of your research? And congratulations, darling. My former colleagues in Gynecology have been telling me that your research will be of a huge benefit to their practice.”

"Well, we are still working on developing this fertility treatment, as you know already, and we have the goal of obtaining a much higher success rate than in vitro fertilization. So, for example, if the success rate of a thirty-five-year-old woman is only at thirty-nine-point-five per cent, we would try to raise that bar by giving her a fifty per cent threshold of success. It’s still at a very experimental stage at this point, Grandmother, but the labs have been working on it incessantly...”

Seungcheol stopped listening at that point. He focused on his food and on not letting go of your hand. Their topics were interesting and he would occasionally get roped into the conversation, but Seungcheol couldn't help but despair about the fact that there wasn’t talk about anything else except work and their different professions and future plans for their businesses or companies. It was the holidays, for goodness’ sake. There weren't many other stories shared aside from work life. Everyone seemed to be comfortable with that kind of setting, but it cut through Seungcheol deeply. Especially when he noticed that the questions didn’t get to you.

The dinner passed like that.

Grandmother rose from her seat, her height, willowy frame and white dress making her look even more imposing. Silence once again reigned, and she spoke.

“Y/N, may I speak to you in private for a moment?” It wasn’t a question. She spun on her heel and left.

Seungcheol knew that she expected you to follow. And you did, whispering, “I’ll be back” before rushing out of the dining room. When his eyes roamed around the table, he saw that everyone was looking at him, and he put his fork down. He didn’t know what to think of what just happened. Your mother followed you out soon after.

"Don't worry," Samuel said reassuringly. "Grandmother may look like a very hard woman, but she's actually soft on the inside--"

"--and she has the softest spot for Y/N." Sana smiled. "She would never admit to playing favorites, but we all know in this table that she loves Y/N the most."

At a later time, while relishing dessert, your history with your grandmother began to unfold from the table, where only your closest cousins remained, and Seungcheol listened to them intently.

They told him the story about a grandmother who wanted nothing but the best of life for her family. A grandmother who had done her best to live a life that she knew would become a good example to everyone who followed her. Despite her stern appearance, she wasn’t the rich and evil grandmother who forced everyone to do things her way. Surprisingly, she was one who encouraged her family members to pursue what they loved to do.

“You see, even though most of us work in the medical field, we didn’t get these jobs because someone told us to, or because the woman we look up to in this family. We became doctors and businessmen because we wanted these jobs. Our paths turned out this way, and we’re enjoying ourselves.” Sana paused, letting her words sink first. “All our parents and our grandparents asked of us was that we pursue our dreams intending to succeed. And that was where she and Y/N took a bad turn.”

“Everyone in this family had turned out to be exactly who they wanted to be.” The unspoken words after that sentence held weight. All except one: you.

“Grandmother just couldn’t understand why Y/N did not choose to become the singer that she wanted to be. And what made her more furious was the fact that she doesn’t see how good she could be.”

Music from the piano drifted into the dining hall. Someone was singing carols, and Seungcheol was jolted from his reverie when he heard soft laughter coming from the parlor as well. It was then that he realized that most of the family had gone back to the parlor, where it was evident that they all loved to spend time together.

“Only one person plays beautifully like that,” Jaemin remarked. Seungcheol noted the ring of envy and admiration on his voice as you all listened to the strains of a piano. “You’re a very lucky man. My cousin isn’t just someone you meet out there.”

“Which is why she’s the favorite,” Hyorin, another cousin of yours, commented. “In a family of doctors and business magnates, she stands out.” Hyorin stood up, bringing her glass of wine with her. “I’m going there to listen.”

Sitting on the piano, fingers making music in a way that spoke to the soul, was you. It was one thing to just play music. It was another thing when that music communicates with its listeners, making them feel something. People were humming the carols that you played, but you didn’t pay heed to them. Seungcheol knew that once you were seated on that bench, you were in another world entirely. You smiled at your relatives as they all sang out songs and gave her requests. Music tied you all together and brought out the beauty of the human inside. Work was forgotten as you sang together. From the corner of his eye, as he joined the men in belting out “Smile Flower” by a classic boy group from more than fifty years ago, Seungcheol saw your grandmother smiling—genuinely—and nodding with your parents, who were also looking at you.

A change of key quieted the room, and everyone tried to figure out what the song you were playing. But nobody could tell what it was, only that it was in A minor. They waited for you to sing.

And when you did, a song they’ve never heard before, a song Seungcheol had never heard before from you, rose from your lips.

“Tossing out the lines that were never truly mine // Throwing to the fire what was never truly fine // I am in a place where no doubt and fears can get me // I am safe tonight with lover and family // by the firelight // by the firelight // I could be me.”

Later, when you and Seungcheol had gone home and you were both staring into the hearth which served as the only light in the living room and warmed you both from the cold of the night, Seungcheol mustered the courage to ask you what your grandmother had told you when she pulled you aside right after dinner.

You smiled and said simply, “She doesn’t want me to become an assistant producer anymore.” Your hand laced with Seungcheol’s underneath the pale blue quilt wrapped around you both. “She wants me to get my music out there to the world. She said she wanted me to stop hesitating about my future.”

“And what do you think about her advice?”

You turned to him, and your eyes were moist, your lips trembling with emotion as you smiled. “Baby,” you said gently, leaning on his shoulder, “it’s not that simple.” You sighed. “And I know I might sound like such a coward to you, but I have a reason for not pursuing a singing career. Besides, I think I’m already too old for that kind of life.”

“Yeah,” Seungcheol playfully acknowledged, “twenty-seven is too old for that kind of life.”

You laughed, but your eyes remained sad. “Consider that a sub-reason as to why I don’t want to be a singer. I know that I’m breaking my family’s heart by choosing not to become one because they want to see me actually doing something that I love. But you see, I’m not really in that bad a position. I’m doing something close to what I truly love. And for me, that is enough.”

Seungcheol held you closer with his one arm. “But what is the reason why you don’t want to be a singer? I’ve always wondered why, too. I didn’t ask you before about this because I didn’t want you—”

“—I don’t want a life where my most beautiful escape—my music—will most likely end up being my darkest prison.” You weren’t looking at him, but Seungcheol knew from your voice that you meant your words, and you wanted him to understand. “I’ve seen it happen. Every day, I work with talented people who were brave enough to let the world see their lives and listen to their music. I help them shine like the stars they are, but I always witness them burn too brightly and die out too fast in the end. And I don’t want that kind of life for myself. I want my music to be mine alone and to whoever I want to give it to. I don’t want my art to be pressured by people’s expectations and desires. I don’t want that kind of life.”

“Tossing out the lines that were never truly mine,” he sang. “Throwing to the fire what was never truly fine. I am in a place where no doubt and fears can get me. I am safe tonight with lover and family. By the firelight, I could be me.” Seungcheol looked at you. “Is that why you sang this to your family? So that they won’t worry about you being miserable because you haven’t fulfilled your ultimate dream?”

You looked at him humorously. “My ultimate dream is to be your wife and the mother of your children, dummy.”

“Oh.” Seungcheol blushed. “I forgot about that part.”

You let out a huge breath. “But you’re right. I just wanted them to know that I’m okay with my life. At the same time, though, I can’t stop wondering if I am missing out on something that I know I want to try deep in my heart.”

“So try doing it.”

It was when you hesitated when he said those words that Seungcheol knew.

He kissed your temple gently. “Baby, I think you should at least try.” Seungcheol stared at you as you pondered what he said in your mind. He knew that a million thoughts, pros and cons and other factors were probably racing around in your head at this point, and he didn’t want you to do that. “Come on. On the count of three, answer my question: do you want to sing your songs out there in the world or not? One.” You didn’t budge. “Two.” You gripped his hand tighter. “Thr—”

“—yes.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and you looked at him, staring deeply into his eyes. “But I’m afraid of the cost it would ask of me.”

“The greater the risk, the greater the joy,” Seungcheol commented casually as he laid you down on the couch, smiling as he kissed you. “Try it.”

“Don’t you think I’m too old? Or that I look too—”

“—This is not about what I want. This is about what you want. Your life. Your future. Your dreams.” He gazed at you again, and he felt the same flush that had crept on his face when he first heard you sing, up in the mountains, in an orphanage. So many things had happened since then. And he pictured you in his head, living your dream, casting the same spell that you had enchanted him with on thousands of people.

A performer, not a producer. That’s who my granddaughter is. Your grandmother’s last words before you both went home lingered on his head as he kissed you. Making music and performing that music is what she does best, and what she has always wanted. Help her get to her dreams. Don’t let her give in to her fears.

By the hearth, as he made love to you—his hands planted on your hips, his painfully delicious rhythm bringing tears to your eyes—he could not get over the truth that, with or without the spotlight on you, you were an amazing woman already. And he knew that he would continue seeing you grow into someone he will always be proud to love and to be with. But in his mind, he could not shake off the image he saw of you, of who you could be if you just became brave enough to.

“What does your heart say?” he asked you, his hand running up and down your bare skin, your limbs tangled together. The fire in the hearth had gone down into sizzling embers and the quilt barely covered you both, but your skin pressed against each other was warm with the afterglow of your lovemaking. “What do you truly want to do?”

You looked up at him with no hesitation, his heart stopped to beat for a moment that felt like forever: because there, in the sparks of light that burst to life in your eyes, he could see the woman you are, and the woman you could be, evolving into one.

“Baby, I want to try.”

4 | spring, and through the seasons after

The train of your dress fanned around you in its lacy magnificence, and the sun could not help itself but touch the beautiful, delicate material with its glorious beams. The soft grass underneath your feet sighed as you passed, and bursts of color from the petals strewn by your nieces gave a beautiful contrast to the peaceful green of the grass and the muted white tones of your dress. You hear people’s voices as you pass them by, their whispers of congratulations and the flashes of cameras. You looked to the horizon, on the sleeping waters of the early morning ocean, which reflected the rosy blush of the first dawn of spring.

You heard the piano start its music, and you hear the viola and the cello in their sweet duet. You smiled at your friends and your family as you passed them by. The crown of flowers in your hair rustled as the wind blew, and your veil flowed along with your hair as that touch of breeze passed.

One more step until you reach him.

When your eyes locked with the man that you will vow to love and to cherish and to be with forevermore, flashes of seasons past appeared in your mind: summers where drops of sun would scorch your skin, and where the smell of petrichor would linger after brief showers of rain; the crunch of leaves beneath your boots, and the colder winds that you would brace against during autumn; the calming hush when everything falls asleep and shivers under blankets of ice and snow; and the first days of spring, like this one, wherein what was frozen through would turn back to healthy shades of green, awakening with a new purpose.

As more memories came to your mind, a song formed in your heart and became written on your mind as you took in Seungcheol’s smiling eyes, brimming with tears as your hand touched his.

“Hold me close, darling // never let go // make this feeling last forever and a day // let’s stay.” These words, for that one summer night, in an old town, where you slow-danced to guitar and dulcimer strings as lanterns swayed with the wind. “Run your fingers through my hair // say you won’t care // if this feeling lasts forever and a day // let’s stay...”

“I love you so much // that I couldn’t keep it in anymore. // I need you so // like the air I breathe to live one more day, so stay…” These words, for that time when you remembered yourself frantically running across sidewalks as the golden glow of streetlights blended with the colors of an autumn dusk, and crashing into the safe, strong arms that will continue to hold you for as long as this life lasts and after.

“You keep setting my soul on fire // you make everything worthwhile…” These words, for that winter night when you felt the blazing sparks of the fire by the hearth of your house, where you decided to take the risk of burning brightly like the stars with your music. “You’re the sun that made me shine like this, // you’re the love that I just can’t resist, so please stay…” These words, for all the moments that you had doubted and he had believed in you as you made your dreams come true. These words, because from the privacy of the firelight by the hearth to the adulation of thousands as you stood beneath spotlights, he had been there.

“Love, let’s stay…Stay this way.”

Each memory and each turn of the seasons that passed through your mind evoked a variety of emotions within you. And you know in your heart that the reason why you could recall them so vividly and feel them so profoundly is that you did not create them alone.

Your eyes take in the man whose companionship had completed the scenes in your head. Through the seasons, he had been with you. He had laughed with you. He had cried with you. He had grown with you. And unlike the seasons which come and go, he stayed.

And he never left.

As you said your vows and exchanged rings and as you sealed the promises made with a kiss, you knew: through the seasons, he had truly, and sincerely, loved you.

- Super-Late Leanne. ⏰

#seventeen #svtcreations #caratwritersclub #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #svt fluff #svt angst #seventeen choi seungcheol #svt choi seungcheol #svt scoups #seventeen scoups #cheol #seventeen hong jisoo #seventeen yoon jeonghan #HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY!!!

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kpophours · 4 years

Text

a very necessary guide to The Boyz

➥ basic information

debuted on December 6, 2017 with Boy

currently consisting of 11 members (they used to be 12 members, but Hwall sadly departed from the group in October 2019 due to his ongoing ankle injury)

signed under Cre.ker Entertainment

their official fanclub name is “THEB” (aka deobi)

no official colors yet (we’re waiting, Cre.ker)

they have an official YouTube, Instagram, Twitter and vlive

they had their first win with Bloom Bloom in 2019

discography: four EPs (The First, The Start, The Only, Dreamlike), two Singles (The Sphere, Bloom Bloom), a special Single (White), one full album (Reveal), one Japanese release (Tattoo)

recently won mnet’s Road to Kingdom and should have participated in Kingdom this year, but sadly, the show has been postponed indefinitely

currently preparing for a comeback (September 2020)

... now onto the members!

➥ hyung line: Sangyeon, Jacob, Younghoon, Hyunjae

▸ Lee Sangyeon - leader, main vocalist

born on November 4, 1996 (a Scorpio and the oldest member of tbz)

(not your typical) leader - he’s not really “the dad”, but truly more of an older brother to the others

often teases and pranks the other members and is one of the funniest members according to their “Who’s Who” video (see: video recs)

writes own songs - super talented and dedicated, a really hard worker

has a beautiful deep, soul filled voice (we’d LOVE to hear more of it @cre.ker) - check out his performance on King of Masked Singer

according to Eric, he’s the member with the best body - really likes to work out and is stacked™

he really, really loves mangos

says he’s not cute but is obviously very wrong about that

has a super cute smile and adorable laugh

looked too beautiful with pink hair (deobi will never recover)

super bad at literally any game - always, ALWAYS loses when it comes to rock-paper-scissors (would be hilarious if it weren’t so sad)

some fun facts: his mbti is ESFP-T (he doesn’t believe in those kind of tests though), he’s good at impersonating others (especially Eric), he has an older sister (who has two sons, Sangyeon is a super cute uncle to them which he recently showed in his BOYLOG - WARNING: extreme cuteness!)

▸ Jacob Bae - lead vocalist

born on May 30, 1997 (a Gemini, but he very rarely shows it)

his Korean name is Bae Joon Young

kinda the mom of the group, but his official title is the angel™ (he literally never gets angry, he doesn’t even curse! how does he do that even his older brother says they never fought while growing up)

is from Toronto and therefore ½ of Canadian and ⅓ of English line - so he’s obviously fluent in English!

really improved his dancing skills over the years and it shows (unofficial member of dance line, fight me cre.ker)

beautiful soft vocals, amazing high notes (see their Mirotic cover)

plays the guitar and composes/writes his own songs

an MC for Simply K-Pop together with Kevin

½ of the superior “MoonBae” ship (aka married to Kevin - they’re super cute together, truly just two halves of the same idiot)

used to play volleyball and basketball and is really good at both, has apparently been working out a lot recently (rip his stans)

some fun facts: his mbti is INFP-T, his family adopted a new dog and named him after him/gave him the nickname “Cobi” ("your family replaced you... with a canine” - Kevin Moon, 2020), has an older brother, is left-handed, used to be the biggest fan of cereal (literally stocked boxes of it inside his room)

▸ Kim Younghoon - vocalist, visual

born on August 8, 1997 (but the most untypical Leo ever - only shows he’s a Leo like, once a year)

tallest member and ⅓ of the so called “Bermuda line” (aka the visuals™)

an under appreciated vocalist - his performance on King of Masked Singer more than showed how amazing his voice actually is (LET HIM SING CRE.KER)

has a “cool/cold look” at first, but is actually the softest, shyest, most precious squish on this planet (and has super soft puppy eyes)

kinda bad at life - needs to be protected because he’s just so clumsy, pouts when he’s about to cry (me, immediately: *cries with him*)

sometimes just randomly zones out and dissociates for a bit

fell down the stairs and injured his collarbone (I TOLD YOU HE NEEDS TO BE PROTECTED) before their Europe Tour and the Reveal promotions and therefore didn’t participate in the choreography

loves loves loves LOVES dogs so much and (his family) has a poodle (we stan Bori in this household)

the softest™ when trying to speak English (I‘m not crying, I‘m just really allergic to his extreme cuteness)

was a model for the Seoul Fashion Week in 2017 (together with Juyeon)

some fun facts: his mbti is INFP-J (there are four (4) introverts in tbz and they all share the exact same mbti), has an older brother, appeared in I.O.I’s Whatta Man music video, was recently cast as the second lead for the drama Love Revolution (his first ever acting role! the world should look out for actor!Hoon), is a BTS fanboy (his bias is Taehyung/V)

▸ Lee Jaehyun (aka “Hyunjae”) - lead vocalist, lead dancer, visual

born on September 17, 1997 (a Virgo)

also one of the tall members and another third of the “Bermuda Line”

an amazing dancer and a great vocalist (had like, 98% of the lines in No Air, so he’s pretty much an undercover main vocal)

an allrounder

seems quiet and chill at first. DO NOT BE FOOLED!!!

he is: l o u d . a bit annoying but also very cute without trying (actually really dislikes doing aegyo). hear someone loud in the background (especially laughing)? yep. that’s him! you found him, congrats.

also very caring and soft, takes great care of the younger members (when he’s not behaving like one of the younger members himself, that is)

also nags them a lot though (at least according to Eric)

the biggest Iron Man fanboy (like, legit wrote a fan letter to Iron Man when he visited the Marvel studios in NYC he’s just so cute)

l o v e s, no, ADORES kids and dogs

also really loves fried chicken

the biggest IU fanboy! very recently covered her song When Love Passes By for their A to BOYZ cover series

MWOHASEYO (don’t ask, just watch)

some fun facts: his mbti is ENFJ-A, he has an older sister, he’s really close with Pentagon’s Kino (they had some very cute interactions during Road to Kingdom), he can spin literally any object (a very weird, random talent tbh), has very skinny legs (so... literally a skinny legend)

➥ middle aka ’98 line: Juyeon, Kevin, New, Q

▸ Lee Juyeon - main dancer, vocalist

born on January 15, 1998 (a Capricorn)

the last third of the tall and “Bermuda line”

an amazing dancer - he trained very hard to be where he is now (went viral as “the bucket hat guy” from their Bad Guy dance practice with the 1MILLION dance studio)

has a very soft, beautiful voice needs more lines

has very sharp features and beautiful eyes - his personality is very different from his cold looks though, he’s actually very soft, caring and thoughtful

he’s very gullible and innocent (also needs to be protected), therefore often the victim of jokes - most people think he’s a bit dumb thanks to that, but he’s really not: he likes to read, watches a lot of documentaries, and is just more on the quiet side in general, he likes to think before he speaks (unlike Hyunjae for example, no shade)

also very clumsy (never leave him and Younghoon alone together, please)

booked and busy! had like, a trillion photo shoots just this year, and was also a model for the Seoul Fashion Week 2017

very bad at taking selfies but he tries and we love him nevertheless

can speak Japanese and English, is also a really good cook

an MC for The Show (aka the “JuShow”)

some fun facts: his mbti is ENTP-T, is very flexible (especially for his height), he likes to work out, has a younger brother, was on the show Law of the Jungle (he really likes nature), biggest U-Know (TVXQ) fanboy (legit cried when he met him), likes to play basketball, has gigantic hands (20.5cm a bit excessive but okay)

▸ Kevin Moon - main vocalist

born on February 23, 1998 (a soft Pisces boy™)

his Korean name is Moon Hyung Seo

the other half of Canadian line aka MoonBae (therefore, married to Jacob)

is from Vancouver and fluent in English (⅓ of English line)

yes, he’s the living meme you probably know from all the “funny kpop videos” compilations, quotes vines on a daily basis

SO much more than just the meme-ber though, he’s extremely talented - BIG BRAIN ENERGY, his creativity legit knows NO LIMITS

has amazing drawing skills (that he often shares with deobi on Twitter) - actually designed the group’s logo tbz use for their official Twitter account

can play the piano and guitar (he’s truly just so talented and amazing - STAN KEVIN MOON Y’ALL)

HAS ONE OF THE BEST VOICES EVER AND WE’D ALL REALLY LOVE TO HEAR MORE OF IT ONE DAY, CRE.KER

can cook really well

also writes his own lyrics/songs

an MC for Simply K-Pop together with Jacob

undercover visual (have you seen his cheekbones?! almost made me cry with his beauty when he had long wavy hair)

“I have no lips” - Kevin Moon, 2020

some fun facts: his mbti is INFP-T, has an older sister, his parents named him after watching “Home Alone” (iconic behavior right there), has a kinda embarrassing past (some of the pictures and videos… uh well, let’s just say he was born a meme legend), he participated in the show K-Pop Star before becoming a trainee

▸ Choi Chanhee (aka “New”) - main vocalist

born on April 26, 1998 (a Taurus)

literally the prettiest human alive

legit looks like an angel (how is he not an official visual?!), but is a savage (and extremely funny, lowkey judges his members 24/7)

a bit of a drama queen but he’s so cute it’s okay

amazing vocal skills, does most of the ad-libs

looks too cute in a beret, that should be illegal

gets bullied by the other members, which is kinda fair but also a bit (too) much sometimes (#letChanheelive2020)

is a math genius, can calculate extremely big numbers inside his head and FASTER THAN AN ACTUAL CALCULATOR (this is SORCERY)

½ of the other iconic duo beside MoonBae aka “NyuKyu” (together with Changmin aka “Q”) - you heard of dumb and dumber, now get ready for New and Q!

takes the best selfies, holds the official title of Selfie King (according to the others, he takes the most selfies - according to himself, he doesn’t even take that many but just takes them in a very obvious way, so the others always notice him doing so)

almost breaks his neck taking selfies

used to have a lot of half-time jobs before becoming a trainee

one of the members in charge of cooking (idk why, he managed to melt a spoon once)

doesn’t know how to swim (because - and I quote - ”he’s a CEO’s son”)

puts MILK FIRST, AND THEN CEREAL it’s over, he’s cancelled

some fun facts: his mbti is INFP-T, he really hates tomatoes, he has a tattoo (a cross on his left pinky), has an older brother, lowkey looks like a Volturi, dropped Younghoon’s new sunglasses TWICE which Hoon will never let him forget, he once accidentally ate a plastic fork (don’t ask)

▸ Ji Changmin (aka “Q”) - main dancer, vocalist

born on November 5, 1998 (yep, another Scorpio)

one of the best dancers in the industry (everyone can fight me on this) - went viral for his improvised dance to the Mario music

STAGE DEMON, has one of the best stage presences EVER, goes from 0 to 100 in literally no time

so cute it HURTS and takes the best boyfriend aesthetic pics (all moodboard makers thank him for this)

has dimples he likes to poke when saying “music cue (q)” (me: *cries*)

has a veeeeeeeeeeeeery long neck

can impersonate a giraffe and a pigeon

½ of NyuKyu aka dumb and dumber (WE LOVE BFFS) - they have some very iconic (cooking) vlives together

he’s very - and I say this with all my love - weird

or, to say it more diplomatically, “unusual”: LOVES horror movies and has had Annabelle as his iPad background for the longest time now (according to himself, they apparently recently broke up though rip our favorite otp), says his favorite beverage at Starbucks are the napkins (???????), literally BEGGED Kevin to let him buy a stuffed pigeon plushie when they visited New York, says the creepy nun from The Conjuring is cute (again: ?????? *whispers* is he okay)

dolphin screams™ (you’ve been warned, turn down your volume)

got lost in New York City together with Kevin (never let them take the metro ever again, at least not... unsupervised)

has a poodle named Ghana and adores him (see this BOYLOG where he just hangs with his puppy, 10/10 recommend watching that)

some fun facts: his mbti is ESFP-T (same as Sangyeon, doesn’t believe in those kind of tests either), has two older sisters, is ambidextrous (but mostly uses his left hand), is really good at playing the piano (won a price in elementary school), his English name is James aka the most generic English name ever (no shade, no hate)

➥ maknae line: Haknyeon, Sunwoo, Eric

▸ Ju Haknyeon - lead dancer, vocalist, rapper

born on March 12, 1999 (another Pisces!)

he is half Chinese, half Korean and lived in Hong Kong for a while

speaks some Mandarin, a bit of Cantonese and also some English

also one of the allrounders of the group (I SAID WHAT I SAID)

an AMAZING dancer! is really good at freestyling

taught himself how to b-boy

such a rich, amazing, stable voice (*bass boosted* more lines for Hak)

one of the funniest and most random members

very loud, randomly bursts into songs all the time even sings when sneezing

just generally really, really sweet and nice

before debut, he participated in the second season of mnet’s Produce 101 (was eliminated in Ep. 11 and ranked #19) - The Boyz were actually often referred to as “Juhaknyeon’s group” before/shortly after their debut

he’s a very good eater and eats A LOT (FINALLY A RELATABLE IDOL)

his family lives on Jeju Island and owns a pig farm - because of that (and because he eats a lot), one of his nicknames is “pig/piggie”

has a blindingly bright smile and is such an underrated visual

yes, you can probably drown in his beautiful, deep chocolate eyes

he and Hwall accidentally became thieves in NYC (they forgot to pay for their food, but went back later to do so so no jail time!)

some fun facts: his mbti is ENTJ-T, he’s really close with Seventeen’s Seungkwan, he has two sisters (one younger, one older), NOT a morning person AT all (relatable), really good at organizing stuff (as seen during the Battle Trip to Jakarta episodes with Hyunjae), really good and fast at peeling tangerines

▸ Kim Sunwoo - main rapper, vocalist

born on April 12, 2000 (an Aries and his fire sign nature shows)

a flawless rapper, just... truly superb. also an amazing dancer !

actually auditioned to be a vocalist (so he has amazing vocals, too), but became a rapper instead

tbz’ unofficial stuntman (as seen during Road to Kingdom), even though he’s actually really scared of heights

can play the guitar

on the other end of the “lip spectrum” - because unlike Kevin, Sunwoo has a lot of them (lemme just *smooch*)

literally one of the wittiest, most savage people on this planet (GOOGLE SEARCH: HOW TO BE SO FUNNY)

used to drink a lot of juice to keep himself healthy

is really good at soccer and used to play when he was younger

beautiful deep brown eyes that hold every star and galaxy in them

Mr. Coconut Hair™ (really makes it work though - still, every deobi screams when we get to see his forehead (which is like, once a year if we’re lucky))

a real stage demon but in reality an actual baby™ + scaredy cat needs to be protected at all costs

had a mental breakdown when he had to eat a bug after losing rock-paper-scissors

always yells “GO AWAY ANNA” whenever someone knocks on his door (especially if it’s New)

some fun facts: his mbti is ENTP-A, has a younger sister (who’s taller than him, he’s really salty about that), he’s really close to some of the other ‘00 liners in the industry, he understands English quite well but doesn’t really speak it, also contributes to a lot of tbz’ songs

▸ Eric Son - maknae, lead dancer, lead rapper, vocalist

born on December 22, 2000 (another Capricorn)

his Korean name is Son Young Jae

he was born in South Korea, but grew up in Los Angeles and is therefore fluent in English (⅓ of English line)

a great dancer (knows soooo many choreographies, it’s insane)

an amazing rapper (deserves more lines!)

hyper 24/7 watching him makes me tired, where does he get all that energy from

talks fast and a lot. never shuts up. you can’t make him. he tries to tell you one (1) story, but ends up telling 10 different ones along the way.

really good a baseball and loves to watch games

super close to Juyeon and used to go to Ju’s place during holidays as his own family lives in the US (my JuRic heart)

really neat and tidy, loves to clean maybe almost a bit neurotic about it

just generally really, really cute ???

a huge GOT7 fanboy (RELATABLE)

a thot on stage, should not be left unsupervised

close friends with Stray Kids’ Felix (his best idol friend according to himself)

also close to GOT7’s Mark (they’re also really cute together)

performed CPR on a watermelon once (it sadly still died, Eric gets an A for effort though)

some fun facts: his mbti is ENFJ-A, he has an older sister (who lives in New York), does NOT look like the maknae which often confuses people, really good and fast at solving Rubix cubes

➥ former member: Hwall

Heo Hyunjoon (aka “Hwall”) - lead dancer, lead rapper, vocalist

born March 9, 2000 (yet another Pisces!)

from Busan

such a good dancer, truly incredible

very soft rap tone

looks a bit like a cat

is very acrobatic

has a “cool” persona, but is actually just a certified babie boy™

used to live in the Philippines for four years and can speak English

the official fashionista of tbz, some of his outfits are truly just iconic

his signature aegyo is to shoot an arrow at deobis’ hearts (Hwall actually means “bow” in Korean)

can get very clingy with some members

had to sit out during D.D.D promotions and decided to leave The Boyz in 2019 (he’s still in the music video though!)

in August 2020, it was announced that he left Cre.ker Entertainment and established his own label called Dia Note

the same month, he debuted as Hyunjun Hur with the song Baragi

you can follow his official Instagram and YouTube

some fun facts: his mbti is ENFP, he’s still in contact with the other members (said he especially misses Juyeon and Hyunjae *sobs*), his role model is BTS’ Jimin and he actually went to the same dance academy (also knows pretty much all their choreographies/songs by heart)

➥ some videos to watch

all their music videos of course

all their live stages/performances too

BuzzFeed’s Who’s Who

Metro UK’s Quick Questions

their Billboard interview

their Weekly Idol episode

their Idol Room episode

their Road to Kingdom performances: Sword of Victory, Danger, Reveal, Heroine, Quasi una Fantasia, Checkmate

their dance covers: Girls Generation’s The Boys + GOT7′s Hard Carry’, TVXQ’s Mirotic, TWICE’s What is Love, EXO’s Love me Right, EXO’s Call me Baby, Super Junior’s Sorry Sorry

Q, Haknyeon and Jacob for the Idol dance cover challenge

their Billie Eilish Bad Guy stage for KCON 2019 + the dance practice

their dance cover medley

drop the dance at KCON 2019

their performance on Immortal Songs

Q’s Mario dance

their Halloween dance practice for Bloom Bloom

their “Identity Film: Generation Z” videos which show a very different side of each member

my personal emotional support kpop video

The Boyz - The Play “Mafia game” (aka a mess™)

their A to BOYZ cover series (five members have been released so far): Jacob, Hyunjae, Sunwoo, Juyeon, Q

and if you have the time: their whole The Castle concert

➥ their shows

The Boyz - Summer Vacation

The Boyz in New York City

Come On! The Boyz

Come On! The Boyz School

The Boyz - Flower Snack (pre-debut)

The Boyz - The 100 (shortly after debut)

The Boyz - Otoseyo (Japanese show)

The Boyz - The Mission

The Boyz - The Play

there are literally endless videos on YouTube - especially “The Boyz memes” / “funny The Boyz compilations” and so on, but I won’t include those here as you can easily find them on your own !

... and that’s it (for now), if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to send an ask - and please give their new comeback lots of love, they are so talented, funny, dedicated and hardworking, and truly just deserve the whole world 💞

[masterlist] | [requests]

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kneamet · 3 years

Text

Delusion (2/5)

Trigger Warning: no

Summary: she was the only girl in his band whose singing he loved so much. She was the person he truly respected. Andy Miles was someone Hank Williams had an unrelenting obsession with.

Chapter two: Quarrel

POV Hank

He could see the look of satisfaction on Fred Rose's face. He could literally feel the look of pleasure burning through the musician. And Hank loved it.

He liked to finally feel that sense of dignity and that people were listening to you and doing it not for the sake of profit, but simply because they were interested in you. Because Hank was sure that he was working for the WSFA for the money and Mr. Pill didn't give a damn about the way he sang. The main thing is that there should be sales and money. And the audience, of course.

No, Williams certainly liked the fact that many people, when driving to work or doing morning chores, such as breakfast or going to the store, listen to his program. Sales of his own records, which he published, were not so much, but he was sure that this contract, which he would conclude with MGM Records, would bring him fame.

"...So move it on over..." not daring to hold back a smile, feeling Mr. Rose's pride, Hank tried not to mess up the tune. She wasn't that old after all. To be honest, he wrote this song back in June, and the audition only happened in April.

Knowing that this song would appeal to many, Williams just couldn't stop thinking about what would happen when he found the fame and fortune that would later haunt him throughout his life. He will never again sing in cheap places and entertain the crowd with his original songs. Now Williams will be the new star of the Opry, who everyone will love and look forward to his next outing.

"...Move it on over..."

Imagining what he would be able to buy with this wealth and how he would fulfill all the debts that he had accumulated, if you remember how much he sometimes lent to his friends. And it had to be done only for the sake of Audrey's whim. You see, what she didn't like was that he didn't support her singing; that he drank at dinner, ostensibly setting a bad example to her daughter Lucrezia.

It always annoyed him, but Hank was sure that sooner or later, but Audrey would leave him and this elusive love story would end in failure and the fact that they fell out. Although what kind of love story is this? Unless, of course, extortion of money from a partner is considered love.

"...the big dogs moving in..."

Williams always thought about it. That soon, having come to his popularity, he would immediately have time to quarrel with his entire group, which he had been collecting for years and with which he spent all his free time so fiercely. But he never thought about leaving his beloved girlfriend Andy.

For him, Andy was the one who inspired him to write lyrics; the one who inspired him to stay calm in certain situations; the one who simply helped him not to give up.

He was sure, he had been sure for a long time, of how she felt about him. It wasn't exactly friendly, but it wasn't exactly friendly either, because sometimes she would make such comments about Hank's personal life that he would burn with shame. He knew it was a feeling that couldn't be explained. Feelings that can be called falling in love.

Sometimes Hank allowed himself to think about her in a sexual way, but he always tried to put those thoughts away where no one would find them. After all, to desecrate the beloved, who helped him to rise, is very mean, so even in this way.

Thinking about how happy he would be to be engaged to the girl he loved, Hank shivered a little. He just couldn't help but think about it, and at a time when things could change for the better.

"...Shes changed the..."

***

He knew Audrey very well, and especially how much she liked to be overbearing in certain moments of their personal life. And it was in such moments of her total power over him that Williams could only think of Andy. He didn't care that Audrey didn't like something and wanted something different. He didn't care, and that feeling had accompanied their marriage together for two years.

And now, watching with a little bit of distaste as Audrey supervised the workers who did everything right, the guy couldn't help but chuckle. Ridiculous. Although perhaps she just wanted to show her "power" over people who work for other people for little money.

Shaking his head in a negative gesture, the man squeezed his hand slightly, slightly triumphant over the fact that he would soon not have to put up with Audrey and her dismissive attitude towards him.

And she still wonders why he continues to sleep with different women, satisfying their needs, if she can not even give him a simple caress, which he so desperately needs?

He really needed support from someone, and especially from his wife, who was always supposed to help him. Didn't they swear an oath before the altar that they would support each other in everything? Because Audrey Williams has never even said a single word of support. Sometimes it seemed to him that she did it just for the money.

Williams knew that she would never accept him simply as someone to be loved and cherished in health and sickness, but his beloved, his true love, which made all bad thoughts go out of his head, would definitely be able to accept him as he was.

Andy would definitely not love him because he had money in his pocket, those bloody bloody bills. She would truly respect him when they lived together and he would take care of her no matter what.

"Honey, come here!" Sitting down at the cleared table, on which there was only an ashtray, in which there were already two extinguished cigarettes, which were successfully smoked by Williams, who was in a nervous state.

He didn't want to call Audrey at the moment, especially after he had recovered from Audrey's behavior, and he didn't want to play the role of a good husband who respected his wife. Because he definitely didn't have the slightest respect for Audrey.

"What?" I hear my wife's voice, and the man feels like he's starting to smile, looking at the cover of the newspaper. He did not hear her, but continued to think about his dream, which has every chance of coming true soon. Hank made the right contract. For once in his life, he made the right decision.

"I want to show you something," admitting honestly, but Williams wasn't too eager to show Audrey the interview, as he knew she wouldn't care about it. After all, it would be much better if he bought her another unnecessary trinket, worth a fortune.

"What is it?" The voice becomes clearer, and Hank knows Audrey will be right there. Taking a gentle breath, the man focused on playing a man who respects the dignity of his wife.

"Come here and I'll show you," taking a sip from the cup next to the clear ashtray, Williams frowns again, showing rejection and a little contempt on his face. Cold coffee again. Why does it cool down so quickly?

"Okay, what do you want to show me?" The gentle voice of his wife tries to caress the man's ear, but he knows that now she will show off in front of him. How naive she is to think that he didn't see it and doesn't understand even the simplest hints.

Blinking a couple of times at a rapid pace, the man smiled again and looked at Audrey, who was standing in front of him, bit her lip and, apparently seeing his slight nod, took a mink coat hanging on the back of a wooden chair, which cost the man a lot of money, which he was not particularly happy to give away. He'd rather buy another gift from Andy under the guise of his best friend. He knew that her favorite cigarettes, a good tart whiskey, and an old worn book would be the best gift for her.

"See this?" the guy says, pointing with his index finger at a passage that is important to him and that he is proud of. "So..."hugging his wife with a hug full of lies, Hank smiles, anticipating her reaction to what he was doing. Clearing his throat, Williams continues, after a significant pause. "«Where he got his inspiration for the song "Move It On Over", Hank could not say, but certainly not from his family life. Mr. and Mrs. Hank Williams live a wonderful family life»," feeling the burning gaze of Audrey, the guy looks at her and, as if realizing what a mess it is, smiles and begins to laugh. His wife's laughter is also heard in the distance. They both seem to understand the nonsense in the papers.

"Wait... Do you think it's funny?" Hank chuckled and smiled, and only tightened his grip on the white newsprint, praying Audrey wouldn't notice. He didn't want to explain to her later that he was just nervous and thinking about filing for divorce as soon as possible.

He knew. Audrey would definitely make a scene out of nothing.

"I think so, in you?" As if mocking the girl, the guy says, watching carefully as Audrey gets up from his lap and grins, taking the newspaper that the postman delivered a couple of hours ago, throwing it on the steps of the house.

Hank takes another sip and immediately sticks out his tongue, as if trying to remove the unpleasant taste of cold coffee. His eye twitched slightly.

"It says here that we've sold more than ninety thousand records," she says, and there's no surprise or joy in her voice that he's moved up to the winning sales spots for the first time. And this is called family solidarity? His hand tightened on the cup, and his fingers were white with tension. "If it's even half true, I wonder how much we'll make out of it..." holding the paper closer to his eyes, as if trying to see some subtext in them. Hank pursed his lip.

"So Hank Williams is an important person?" The question was rhetorical and it did not require an answer, but the guy simply could not understand and realize this fact. What he had lived and worked for had finally come true, and now he had a contract and an officially paid job.

He didn't hear what Audrey was saying or reading. Knowing that she wouldn't be thrilled or happy for him, Williams simply couldn't help but wonder what Andy's reaction would be to the fact that they had not only reached number four on the chart together, but had also made the front pages of the newspaper. It made him happy to think how happy she would be to see it. After all, he owed this song to her.

"See the note on the sideboard?" Interrupting the thoughts that were so dear to Hank, Audrey throws the newspaper on the table and turns in his direction. "Howard Pill called, we're going to the radio station tomorrow."

He kicked him and his band out of his show, didn't he? Or what, he found out about the rapid popularity and immediately wanted to invite them?

"To hell with the show, I shouldn't have gone back there."

***

"Ha, ha," comes a light voice with a little hoarseness, and Hank smiles at Andy, who is always happy to please the audience with new songs and a cheerful mood. After all, wasn't that enough for people?

He looks down, watching as his beloved, his truly beloved girl, runs her gauze-wrapped fingers over the strings of a guitar that is playing a set of notes.

"So guys, I know, it's six-thirty in the morning," Andy continued to smile, leaning closer to the microphone and casting a quick glance at Hank, who was looking at her with pursed lips, immediately continued: "but if you're milking a cow or just going to the grocery store, we're happy if you're listening to us at this time," Williams reluctantly tore his gaze away from Miles's contemplation, and turned his gaze to his wife, who was standing by the piano, sipping her morning coffee. It's invigorating, and who wouldn't mind a cup of coffee in the morning?

He didn't want to quarrel with Audrey and listen to her loud and unpleasant voice again. Whenever they started a new fight, Audrey always shouted in a nasty voice. What can we say about singing, if even in raised tones her voice took on a vile and bad color.

"So, we have a young lady here who wants to sing a song for you. Are you here?" Suddenly interrupting Andy, Hank begins, turning his attention to Audrey. Better to let her sing now than later, or he wouldn't be able to wait any longer. Waiting was a good thing, but annoying. Williams was absolutely certain that no one here wanted to hear his wife sing.

"I'm here, I'm here," Mrs. Williams takes a quick, deft step toward Hank, to which Hank only smiles falsely. Today everything should go smoothly and without quarrels, which could happen in the morning, but, thank God, he managed to tell her in time that she was going with him.

"She walks slowly to the microphone," Hank runs his shoulders up a little, chuckling and feeling a slight tension in his back. It always hurt when he thought of something stressful. "Ready?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she says, looking at Williams, smiling. The man's hand trembled, sending pain to his temples and a haunting rhythm. A nervous migraine?

"You sound a little shaky," Andy interjects, saving the situation and interrupting the banter between the couple. Hank sends her a smile, which is immediately reflected in his direction.

Williams takes a sharp breath and closes his eyes for a few seconds. His sensitive nose picks up the smell of the cheap, bitter cigarettes that Andy loved to smoke. He chuckled slightly, knowing their price, because in fact, he always found some atmosphere in bad cigarettes, which were diluted with various impurities, which made the taste sweet and herbaceous. However, the disadvantage was that the smoke was very dry throat and then there was a bitter taste, which I wanted to get rid of as soon as possible.

"I'm ready," Audrey smiles at Hank, who lets out a chuckle.

He'd never liked her smile, and at times like this, he wondered how he'd ever come to the conclusion that they were perfect for each other when they couldn't even find simple support.

After all, according to Hank, the life of two spouses should be perfect, they should fit each other, not finding flaws and accepting themselves as you are.

"Well, that's good. She will sing you a song called "Pan American", which some of you have already heard," this song was very much liked by his beloved and although he wanted this song to be performed by her, but, unfortunately, Audrey expressed her opinion yesterday about what song she wants to perform. "This is the train that goes from Cincinnati to New Orleans every day."

"Let's go, Rivers," Miles said, interrupting the boy, and Hank saw Jerry wink at her in response to the girl's words, boldly touching the bow to the strings of the violin he had always so carefully guarded.

Hank's brows drew together, and his left hand clenched into a fist, trembling treacherously. What kind of playful winks are these?

Williams bites the inside of his cheek, glancing at Audrey, who is about to start singing. Although, to be more precise, it is more like an eruption of strange and incomprehensible sounds.

His mind, being a little clouded by what he has just seen, does not want to think straight. And because of that, his mog was unable to think of anything but insults.

"...I have heard your stories about your fast trains... " came the voice of his wife, and Hank had already several times regretted that he had ever gotten involved in this. It was better not to agree to take Audrey with you and come to the radio station, just to enjoy and admire Andy's tired, slightly hoarse voice.

He closed his eyes, taking a few breaths. It's going to be a long time.

***

"Someone has to do something about her," not that he disagreed with Mr. Pill about Audrey's singing, but rather that he was afraid that his wife would hear it. He knew what a scandal she would make if she heard that, knowing that she sang beautifully.

Although this was certainly not true. Anyone who thinks that singing is her destiny either hasn't heard her sing, or they're an idiot.

"Well, wow... Are you discussing the weather or Audrey?" Trying to get close to them without being seen, Hank says, taking the first drag on his cigarette and putting his hand down. Bitter taste. Just right for the situation.

"Hank," the normally silent Lum suddenly says, interrupting the tense exchange between the bosses. "Actually, we were discussing how she sings."

He certainly didn't mind them discussing it, because he would have been happy to join them if Audrey hadn't been here, but he just didn't want to plan and start another fight. It will be better to just keep silent, especially since the head, and the back as well, begin to give weightless pain.

"Ah, that's it."

"Yes," the bassist says casually.

If he really loved her, he would have defended and defended Jaro long ago, but knowing that this was the best reason to waste his nerves, and being completely in agreement with Audrey's singing, Hank just sighed, turning his gaze to Mr. Pill, who was watching him closely.

"Well, Hank," Howard says, standing up from the yellow chairs against the wall, shaking his head. "He's terrible, and you know it as well as I do," Mr. Pill said quickly, as if predicting further argument.

"Well, maybe I do, but it doesn't matter now, it's about my wife," at the moment, he just hoped that no one could hear him. He held his breath as he said this, wishing only that he and Audrey would part amicably without a " bloody divorce."

The boss's eyes widen and dim, and he swallows. Hank grins triumphantly, but he notices that his gaze is not directed at him, but behind his broad back. He turns back, frowning.

"Fuck you, my husband," anger and indignation oozes out of her voice, and Williams opens his mouth slightly, wanting to utter false words that are pleasant to hear, but notices that his wife wants to leave as soon as possible. Before he can, Hank grabs her wrist, stopping her.

"Honey, honey, you didn't hear what I said, I was protecting you. You did a great job, " oh, if that were true.

"Just forget it," she tries to free herself from her husband's hand, and Audrey shakes it slightly, pulling her teeth together and looking at him with an angry look.

"Baby, baby, it's such a beautiful morning, you look great, we're doing fine."

"Have another drink, Hank. We're all shitty!"

"Why do you say that?" The guy swallows, slightly perplexed by this, but realizing that Audrey has long since figured it out and understood. Only, he wasn't sure if she had correctly interpreted his words and hints that he didn't have any tender feelings for her at all.

His love and heart were completely given to his beloved girl, who did not yet know what his feelings for her were. Perhaps Andy thought that he was just a friend to her, but he would definitely show her later that he did not want to remain just a friend, wanting to be something more in their immortal love.

"I've been told people like the way I sing, but not you. You're trying to crush me like a bug," bile oozes from Audrey's mouth and Hank just tries not to snap. Unfortunately, his temper was quite explosive and if something did not suit him, he immediately began to break down.

"What are you talking about? You're more like a queen bee. I brought you here, I was on your side!"

"Yes, I stepped on my own throat!"

"Stepped on the throat!?" The guy does not restrain himself, starting to raise his voice and not even trying to calm his nerves. My back starts to hurt even more.

He squints, as if trying to show discomfort. His back always hurt when he raised his voice or got into conflicts. And this irritated him insanely, since she then sent signals to the heads and began a mild migraine, which could later develop into a more serious diagnosis.

"I'm sick of this, Hank, I'm sick of it," she turns around again and tries to leave, but Williams doesn't give her a break.

"In case you've forgotten, we've got one hit, a new house, and you've got a damn fur coat!" His words sound as if this really justifies something, but in a relationship with another person, and even in a simple conversation, it could play into your hands.

But that's not Audrey's style at all. She will swear and break out until people recognize her side, and even build a victim out of herself. Disgusting.

And what did he see in her? Not only did she have a disgusting personality, being terribly selfish and not helping Williams in his endeavors, but she also never liked him outwardly: green, with some shades of blue, eyes; blonde hair, which she always tried to hide with light brown paint; plump lips, which were so unpleasant to kiss that the guy was amazed how he tolerated it at all; this ugly mole near the eye. And her style of dress was always a failure. Although no, Hank is definitely lying, since she was very attractive, but until the moment he met Andy.

"You think that justifies whores and booze!?"

Hank's eyes flickered, and he didn't like it. She doesn't even understand the situation, and already blames him. If only she knew that he'd been doing less and less escorting lately, trying to spend more time with Andy.

"This should justify at least something!" Williams ' eyes were wide. The hand holding the cigarette began to shake even more, and a quick migraine shot through his head in his right temple.

"But it's not. That's no excuse for ruining another person's dreams!" Dreams? Dreams of what? Become a singer who can't sing? He didn't want to upset her, but he was sure she wouldn't be happy if she found out that you could get into show business either because of your connections or because you had talent.

"What?" Hank shouts as he gets even closer to his wife.

"Yes, you should know that," looks straight into Audrey's eyes with a piercing gaze. "Because now it's obvious to me. You can take your hit, along with this fur coat! And don't forget to answer the phone when my lawyer calls!" she says, turning around and giving her husband a menacing and venomous look. The man's eye twitched again as the front door closed.

"Great, let him call right now!" In a fit of rage gnawing at his mind, Hank kicks an innocent chair, still burning to break something. Right hands itching to calm your anger with the flat of something.

As he turns to face the group, the pain in Hank's temple reverberates in his head again. He didn't give a damn what the guys and the boss might think, because at the moment, he just needed to show his emotions in a negative way.

"What are you looking at?" He shouted in a rush of emotion and really did not know what he was doing. The fist holding the cigarette clenched. "Do you like the show?"

As he headed for the recording room, Hank brushed his shoulder against Mr. Pill, as if to show how much he was currently unable to think properly and rationally, doing everything on emotion.

Opening the door and closing it with a loud bang, Hank went to the dark brown sofa and sat down on it, clutching at his hair, pulling at the roots until it hurt. It was necessary to adjust the mind to think rationally and not to succumb to the emotions that always prevailed over it.

His lips tightened, and his legs tightened. My head itched from the strain.

"You'll make up," a familiar tired voice suddenly sounded, hoarse from singing, and Hank looked up, still holding his dark hair. He smiled faintly as he noticed that Andy was leaning against the door frame, her thin arms crossed.

Williams nodded toward the couch, as if inviting her to sit down. Miles chuckled and walked over to Hank, who was looking at her from under his brows. Sipping her pants, the girl sat up, turning to the guy, to which he only shook his head and lowered his head down, as if admitting his failure.

"You'll find a way," Andy shrugged simply, as if she didn't care, putting her hands on top of her head and looking at her friend. "I know you guys. Just your gap is that you are very proud, and this feeling is one of the most crushing in the world."

It seemed like a game to her. Her words were light, but they were also food for thought.

"You'll make up," Andy said again.

Hank raised his head, looking for a moment at his beloved, who thoughtfully focused her gaze on the white, with some spots, ceiling and seemed to be thinking about her own.

The guy smiled, sighing. You should know, Andy, that he's been in love with you for so long, and he's just afraid to admit it. It was indeed the kind of love that is described in books. Gentle, romantic and understanding, in which the partners just love each other.

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shinsorokiri · 4 years

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UA Idol | Chapter Sixteen

Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader

Word Count: 2,290

Warnings: Language, hangover, mentions of throwing up, SO VERY SOFT

A/N: First chapter I will be posting today!! I’m expecting to post chapter seventeen in like seven hours because I want to make that one extra long like maybe 4,000 or so words (but no promises, Imma try though). There’s a lot that happened in this chapter, and I’m really happy I decided to rewrite it because holy SHIT I like this one better. I hope you enjoy it!!! Expect another chapter tonight! Thank you everyone for your support as well, it makes me so happy and I love all of you! 🥺

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You were woken up by the noise of your hotel door being slammed open and Denki yelling, “NO FUCKING WAY!” at the top of his lungs. You grumble, your head already hurt enough you didn’t need him making it worse. Besides being woken up like that is not a fun time. You wanted to stay in this oddly warm hotel bed longer. These blankets really made you feel like you were asleep with someone. Someone who smelled a lot like Shinsou. Huh, weird, why is that – OH MY GOD.

You both make eye contact at the same time, your faces both instantly getting red and your eyes wide. Before you can ask him what the hell happened, a look of panic flashes across his face before he genuinely sprints to the bathroom, the alcohol he ingested finding its way out of his body. You groan, the sound is making you feel a little nauseous, but you can hold in there. You just have a killer headache. “Woah, I’ve never seen him this hungover before,” Denki says to himself, slowly closing the door to give Shinsou some privacy while he faces the consequences of his actions. You groan, turning to look at Denki. He’s also hungover, and he definitely ran here after just leaping out of bed. “What do you want.”

You’re being blunt. You’re not in the mood. You just wanted to sleep, your head hurt, and your bed was cold now. “You, (Y/f/n) and Hitoshi Shinsou slept in the same bed together!” he exclaims, and, finally, Mina stirs. How she is such a heavy sleeper is beyond you. “Yeah. We were drunk, he probably just like, passed out or something,” you mumble, pulling the covers over your head when Mina clinks the bedside lamp on. Light hurt you. “Denki? When did you get here?” Mina asks, very confused and you groan. “He literally ran in here and screamed how the hell did you not hear him?”

“Because I was asleep.”

“Oh, my god.” You hear the bathroom door open, and then Denki says, “Oh, good to know you’re still alive.” Shinsou just grunts in response, sitting on the edge of your bed. “I should probably go back to our room. I feel like shit,” he mumbles, leaning over to rest his head in hihs hands. “No, actually, you just stay here. Mina and I made plans last night over text to go buy some designer clothes and clear out our bank accounts because we are young, dumb, and like designer clothes,” Denki says, and Mina, albeit also hungover, understands immediately that Denki is trying as hard as he possibly can to ensure that the two of you stay in the same room. Shinsou sighs. “Whatever. I can’t just stay in Mina and (Y/n)’s room, I’ll just–”

“Of course, you can!” Mina jumps in, popping out of bed and grabbing some clothes from her suitcase. Even though the chances were she and Denki would go to his room and recover before actually going shopping, she had to A) make it convincing that they were leaving and B) grab clothes for when they actually went. “You can take my bed! Or, you could just stay in bed with (Y/n). I mean, her bed is closer to the bathroom so you’d probably wanna stay there,” she suggests, and he grumbles. Before he can protest again, he feels your knee lightly hit his back. He pauses for a moment, but Mina and Denki take the pause as him agreeing. “Okay, cool! Great! We’ll see you two when y’all aren’t zombies! The medicine is in the bathroom, you should both take it!” With that, Denki and Mina rush out of the door and Shinsou sighs. He stands, wandering over to Mina’s bed before he’s stopped by your voice. “Shin, just stay in this bed. Like Mina said, it’s closer to the bathroom. And we shared it last night, it’s not a big deal.”

Oh, if only you knew what that just did to his heart. He absolutely doesn’t say no to you, and crawls under the covers immediately. He buries his head into the pillow as he feels you shift around to turn the lamp Mina turned on off. “No more light.”

“Thank fucking god,” he says, and you let out a small snort. “I’m sorry, I didn’t force you to take medicine last night apparently,” you mumble, and he sighs. “I must have forced you. You seem to be doing better than me.”

“Only by like 5%. Maybe. I’ll go grab the medicine and get us some water, that’s supposed to help,” you say, slowly getting out of bed. Unfortunately, the medicine he gave you didn’t work as well as you’d hoped. As soon as you stood up, you were immediately nauseous. Now it was your turn to sprint to the bathroom. Shinsou, being the gentleman he is, rushed in after you, instantly beginning to rub your back and make sure you were okay as you threw up. As much as his body wanted to also do what you were doing, somehow his care and worry for you cancelled it out. As long as he focused completely on you, everything would be okay. After you were done, he filled a cup of water, handing it to you to drink. “Maybe we should wait to take the medicine so we know it will actually stay down,” he suggests, sitting on the bathroom floor next to you. You nod. “I want to go back to bed, but I do not want to move from this spot,” you sigh, resting your head on the toilet seat. He stands, fighting off the nausea, and goes and grabs the blankets the two of you were bundled in last night. He brings them back, plopping down next to you and wrapping them around both of you. You find yourself melting into him, seeking out the warmth his body radiates as well as the comfort he never fails to give you. He wraps his arm around your body, humming as he pulls you against the wall so you’re both propped up in a more comfortable position. “Thank you,” you whisper, and he shrugs. “Anything for you,” he mumbles, quiet enough so only he could hear what he actually said. You just heard some type of grumble.

Before you know it, you both doze off in that position, only waking up every so often to face the downside of too much alcohol. You were both woken up at seven in the morning. It’s now nearing eleven in the morning. Luckily, the both of you were feeling a bit better. You both took medicine, thoroughly rinsed your mouths with mouthwash and water, and ventured back to your bed, but still kept the lights off. You laid down and found yourself gravitating toward Shinsou again. He complied almost instantly, opening his arms as soon as he felt like he was in a comfortable enough position to doze off while still having you in his arms.

He knows this is strange. He knows that two friends shouldn’t be holding each other after a night of drinking. But it’s you. Even if the two of you are just friends, he would do literally anything for you. He just didn’t want to admit it. Sadly, though, you’ve caught on to it just as well as he has. “What are we doing?” he hears you mumble, and he shrugs. “Seeking comfort in a desperate time?” he suggests, and you feel yourself smile. But, no. As much as that could be an answer, that wasn’t why the two of you were so attached to each other. “Seriously, Shinsou. What’s going on with this?”

He pauses. How does he answer. He can’t come out and tell you how he really feels, can he? I mean, yeah, he likes you. He’s known for a while. But he knows how much you hate relationships. He knows your last boyfriend hurt you, of course he doesn’t know exactly how but knowing that you were hurt is enough. And listening to your songs, he can piece together just how bad of a person this guy was.

And yeah, you like him. A lot. But you couldn’t deal with another heartbreak. You really couldn’t, truly you think you’d rather die. But every time you tried to stop thinking about him, he flooded your thoughts again. And every time you talked yourself out of wanting him, the next moment you talked to him you wanted him all over again. The connection the two of you had was a weird one. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find everything about him attractive. “I… I really don’t know. I just… can’t get enough of you,” he answers, quietly, but truthfully. You shift around so you can look at him. He bites his lip, and you purse yours. “Can’t get enough of me, huh?” you tease, and he smiles softly. “I don’t want to ruin what we have,” he really doesn’t. But truthfully, he should face the rejection now and move on with his life later than fall even more for you, “but I have to say, (Y/n). I’ve never met someone quite like you. I mean, your talent, your personality, your… everything. It’s… very addicting and honestly, I just can’t get enough of you. Even right now. There are some things I would love to do with you right now,” he says, his eyes darting to your lips. He wonders what it would be like to kiss you. Of course, this isn’t the first time he’s wondered. He has actually wondered quite a lot. Funny, he tried to push all those thoughts away but right now, he knows he can’t do that anymore.

“Hmmm,” you make a noise, your face contorting into your thinking face. He knows that face pretty well now. He sees it a lot. When you’re writing lyrics, when Mina asks a question, when you’re trying to figure out what chord progression to use in this new song you wrote, a bunch of different situations. And even though he thinks it’s adorable, his heart is beating way too fast with anxiety. He doesn’t expect you to want him back, he just hopes your friendship isn’t fucked. You’re quite literally, one of the best things that has ever happened to him. “Well, this is a predicament,” you mumble, and he raises an eyebrow. “Huh?” He’s confused. What do you mean by–

“I’m supposed to be the resident relationship hater and here I am, liking someone. A lot. This is a predicament. But it’s a predicament I am willing to live with.” He stares at you for a moment. Did you just… confess back…? “You mean…?”

“We can… have something between us. Under two conditions.”

“What conditions?” He’s way too eager to have whatever this is between you two continue, and he knows it. But he can’t help it. The things you do to him just aren’t fair. “We don’t put a label on it or tell anyone, no one else needs to know, especially Mina and Denki because then we wouldn’t hear the end of it.”

“Agreed.”

“And… no falling in love with each other. Okay? Just… a strong attraction towards each other, yeah?”

No falling in love. He should have seen that one coming. That will be… difficult, to say the least. But he understands where you’re coming from. He doesn’t want to fall in love either. That means another person to worry about, and call him selfish, but he really just… couldn’t handle that. He already had to worry about his mom every day. Adding you to that would be unfair to all parties involved. He nods. “Yeah.”

“Okay. Okay, cool.”

“Yep.”

“Sweet.”

“Question.”

“Answer?”

“Can I kiss you. Right now. Please?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

And with that, he leans down, finally pressing his lips against yours. He’s kissed a few people in his day, and he’s good at it, but he’s never felt the feeling he got from a kiss quite like the feeling he got kissing you. He swore his hear was about to beat out of his chest, but so was yours. You were feeling the exact same way he was. Something about him was just… intoxicating and this kiss? Well, you imagine that this is what a first high would feel like. You’re going to want so many more afterwards. When you both pull away, you just stare at each other for a moment, before he breaks into a grin, and kisses your nose. “You look cute after I kiss you,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “And suddenly, noise is making my head hurt even worse,” you say, causing him to snort. “Hmmm, then how about you make me shut up?” he says, and you smirk. “Gladly.”

Thank GOD Mina and Denki were nowhere near you two. They would never let either of you live down what’s happening. Being quiet with this wouldn’t be that hard, in fact, a lot of it was going to be fairly easy. The two of you were already quite touchy feely with each other, so what exactly is going to change? Shinsou doesn’t seem to be the type to be big on PDA from what you know about him, so it’s not like he’s just randomly going to pull you in for a kiss. Besides, even if he did, you two don’t have a label. Just friends with… benefits. But maybe not the sexual part of that. Though you wouldn’t mind if that part was included. You fell asleep in his arms again. This was something you were getting used to, and he was, too.

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nostalgic-pancakes · 3 years

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Watching the starlings as autumn draws in

Summary: Tommy and his friends try on some skirts, and he reflects a bit on how they all got here. (It's a happy story) Title from September by Sparky Deathcap

Pairings: None! Platonic everyone (esp in irl fics_)

Read on AO3 (preferred place to read)

Word count: 2570

Warnings: None, except for surface-level references to the exile/prison arcs, but not much.

Other notes: I wrote this in a fit of madness last night in like three hours at 2 am, so i’ll probably edit it honestly but for now, enjoy! (If the CC’s ever display discomfort with this type of fic I will take it down)

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"WELCOME BACK TO THE STREAM, BOYS!" Tommy exclaims, rubbing his hands together as he starts rapid-fire answering questions about the stream, and the stream title from chat. It's funny, how over time, Tommy's come to see Chat as this one entity- an old friend. The nervousness of answering questions as a fifteen year old with nothing but a big personality, a twitch account and a copy of Minecraft is all but gone now, nineteen years old and happier than he's ever been.

Dreadfulzombie19: what are u doin this stream

"THANK YOU FOR ASKING, Dreadfulzombie19, today is gonna be a bit different, innit Tubbo?" Tommy raises his voice a bit at the end of his sentence, just loud enough for one of his flatmates to hear him. When Tubbo yells back an affirmative, Tommy turns back to his setup. Chat's gone a bit wild again, even though he, Tubbo and Ranboo have been living together for over a year now.

"Okay, okay, calm down chat- so recently I was at university, as usual right? And I had an eight AM class again, and… yeah I can see you all can relate."

"BUT! BUT! On my way back to the flat, I saw something really cool." Tommy hesitates in his speech to take a sip of coke again- his blood pressure's been acting up lately and watches Chat to wild again, asking him what he saw.

"Okay, so there was a shop- new place, which doesn't happen often this is fucking Brighton- and they sold skirts and dresses and stuff with adjustments for AMAB sizes!" Chat goes a bit bonkers, but Tommy's mod team- a little smaller than it used to be, now that he isn't the centre of YouTube or Twitch attention anymore, none of them are- are handling it, and pretty well.

"So I had to go, right? As many of you probably know, last year, I made the astounding discovery that gender-based stereotypes and expectations are, in fact, fake and I should not give a SHIT. And so I go in and look through the stuff- it's a really poggers shop by the way, and I find the perfect thing- it was the most poggers skirts and shit, okay? So, today's stream is going to have me wearing this pogchamp shit and wearing it right, with the help of…" Tommy ends his monologue by picking up the joke shaker-things that Phil had gotten him as a housewarming gift last year and indicates for his first two helpers to enter the office.

In walks his mother, face obscured from view as always, waving to the camera, and Wilbur, also wearing one of his only skirts for this occasion. Eret had taught him, on a phonecall in the skirt shop that week about the different types of skirts with a handy diagram. Wilbur's was a pleated circle skirt, brown to offset the bright yellow of his sweater and beanie, the same colour as his hair. It's very swoosh-y, so he's wearing black leggings with his regular shoes too. Motherinnit's also wearing her favourite skirt, a baby blue prairie skirt, Tommy thinks, and it's one he's seen fairly often.

Wilbur ducks down in order to show his face to Chat, and ruffles Tommy's hair while he's at it. Tommy's taller, but not by much, so Wilbur still fucking makes short jokes, That fucker.

Chat is now going so fast that he simply cannot read anything but some of the all caps messages and can barely make out some of the emotes.

"Okay, OKAY, CALM DOWN CHAT! WE HAVE TO GET TO FUCKING BUSINESS!" Tommy yells into the mix, like he did when he was sixteen and used the 'many people find me annoying at first' intro. Nowadays he just lets the content speak for itself. Anyone who wants to be here already is, by now.

Wilbur laughs a bit, and that hasn't changed at all. "Tommy, how is chat supposed to calm down if you're not calm?"

"I am their god!! They will obey via sheer digital willpower!" Tommy replies back, pretty zealously (What? An English Literature class is mandatory for his film degree, and The Great Gatsby by Zelda Fitzgerald is a good book, as are most of the other assigned ones. He's had entire conversations with Techno with just lit quotes and it drives everyone insane. Tommy loves it.) Chat seemingly has listened to his godlike abilities, with a few OG's spotting his half-quotation of one of Dream's last lines in the Dream SMP. The rest are spamming 'MOTHERINNIT'.

"If having a shitty magic trick book from a washed-up politician makes you a god, then what does that make me?" Wilbur replies, with one of Foolish's lines and swatting his hand at Tommy. Tommy swats back.

"Bitch" "Arsehole" "Shithead" "Fuckface" Wilbur finishes cheerily, as if this happens all the time. It does. Chat's used their antics now, four years of consistently making content together will do that for you.

Eventually Motherinnit reminds them both to get back on Topic, and Tommy goes back to facing the camera, addressing Chat directly.

"Today, my beloved mother, and my idiot brother-" "hey!" "And maybe my flatmates will be joining me to show off some cool as SHIT skirts! And a dress or two. We all have our selections, right?" Everyone nods in affirmative, even Tubbo and Ranboo. Though the camera can't see them. Ranboo's just come home from his final class, then. He should probably take the first hour back off, and judging by how Tubbo is forcefully judging Ranboo to the shower, he probably gets it. Tommy signs an affirmative to both of them, and gets back to the camera, where Wilbur's showing off all of his (very poggers) very stupid brown or yellow skirts. Tommy's are in cool colours, for fuck's sake.

"Oh yeah, Puffy just confirmed she'll be on stream! She'll be here in about twenty minutes, accounting for fucking traffic, and Niki' going to get onto VC after her own stream, what game is it this time?"

"GRIS." Wilbur answers.

"Poggers- she is the SHIT and will join us soon! So expect some QUALITY QUALITY content this stream!! Remember to not spam her chat to finish faster." Exclaims Tommy, even if it ends up as a light warning, as he picks up his own very poggers skirts from the extra armchair in his office to show the camera.

One is the classic red and white, mostly white but with bright red on the waist (elastic) and the bottom, and it reached to about Tommy's knee, if worn at the hip. It had no pleats, but the red bits were a very nice velvet texture, and while the skirt was heavy, it still had very much swoosh value, and pockets!! Big ones!! He slips the skirt on top of his jeans before entering camera view, the skirt visible in all its classic Tommyinnit glory, as he takes his place right next to Wilbur, who just took. a quick spin at the behest of several dono's., Skirt spying out from his lower shins all the way to his knee, making visible one of his (many) petticoats. ("What? It's cold all the fucking time here, Toms.") Tommy also makes a quick little spin, skirt flying outward, not upward, so it looks like he's hula hooping for a moment there. Lastly, Motherinnit spins around too, and while her skirts do not swoosh, she looks opulent, like she was about to go to waltz with the enemy, for whom she has a dagger in the back of her dress for. (He finished Anna Karenina and the Six of Crows duology within the same week and has not yet recovered. Jack Edwards is laughing at him as he thinks in his English Lit Graduate glory.)

It's fun, trying on different skirts- he and Wilbur accidentally bought the same dress at one point, which they paired up to wear, darting off into their respective changing rooms while giggling like idiots with their checkered blouses and the grindl skirts that Niki had sent over when she heard of this stream idea, laughing the whole time. Tubbo enters as dramatically as possible with Puffy, and while Tubbo looks really fucking good in his handkerchief skirt with embroidered bees and plain white shirt, it's Puffy who steals the show with an exact, real life version of her red banquet dress.

Fans from way back in the SMP, before Tommy had started branching out start going insane and are bringing back emotes Tommy wasn't sure were still available, but she is fucking stunning- deep shades of red and crimson, with slits on either side of her waist and all the detailing. She'd gotten the contact for her dressmaker through Bernadette Banner, Tommy recalls- she was so fucking cool when she streamed with him once, and gotten him to swear less and supplant those world's with bigger ones to intimidate instead. While he still curses like a sailor as part of his persona, it's less so and he does way less in real life these days, unless the situation calls for it. It's also just rude, especially in uni libraries, where he spends too much time these days wondering why he didn't read more as a kid.

Puffy's stolen his audience for a WHILE, and Niki coming on hasn't helped any, so Tommy exits camera view for a while to hug Ranboo really quickly- he's had midterms and has basically been dying all month.

Everyone on this stream- Tommy, Wilbur, Motherinnit, Tubbo, Puffy, Niki and Ranboo enter the camera frame after entering their dressing rooms for the last time on this particular stream, Puffy with full in-character wigs and makeup, Tommy in an Edwardian-Gothic reminiscent black and red dress, Ranboo in something he bought when he gap-yeared in Japan, punk lolita or something, Niki flaunting her pink in a Marie Antoinette style show of finery, Tubbo dressing in all green this time, something like a very deranged biology teacher who hasn't slept in days (Tubbo hasn't-Tommy has to get into that), Wilbur like a forest-nymph, all earthy tones and swishy fabrics and nature highlights, and finally Motherinnit, who hasn't changed but is here to take pictures as they all lean in together to fit into frame, as drastic as their height difference is. Niki is going to be edited in later, and everyone on the 'Dream SMP but nobody does Dream SMP and we're all fucking nerds' discord server is going to get a copy.

The stream wraps up there, after about two hours, and it's only about six in the evening- a far cry from the late nights and long hours from the beginning of Tommy's career, so everyone runs to their changing areas for the last time, into pajamas now, and packs away all of the clothes they wore, properly, as to not incense Karolina Zebrowska, and Jemma, Dan's wife, who would look at them disappointedly and nobody wants a sad Jemma because that means no cooing at their son. Also it just feels shitty.

Everyone huddles in Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo's living room, and they out on UP for like, the millionth fucking time (they still cry when Ellie dies), and Tommy is leaning into Wilbur's side and feeling his mum play with the hair in his very small, stubby ponytail he's developed by being in Uni as he and Tubbo intertwine their legs together and Ranboo rests his head in the tangle of limbs, playing with his fidget cube. Puffy stays on Wilbur's side, intently texting someone and smiling the whole while, and Tommy takes a moment to reflect (something he's been getting better at doing) on how the actual hell they all got here.

The Dream SMP was always going to end- everyone knew it, if course, they were the fucking writers. But by the time they did, not only were their respective brands too closely intertwined to just… sever that quickly, but they'd become too close to even want to. So the SMP discord never shut, even though Dream and George had planned it months ago, and they continued supporting each other with their interests. Wilbur made a lot more music solo, with his band and even just random ass streams where he practiced guitar for an hour. He kept playing Minecraft, but it wasn't his main focus. A bunch of people left. More stayed. YouTube left him alone.

Dream, George and Sapnap are still Minecraft streamers, but their YouTube channels are mostly blogs of them being poor excuses of adults with other former SMP members joining in sometimes. Tommy and the Dream Team were closer than ever, even though the seeds of their friendship had been sowed when they used to linger after heavy streams together, reassuring each other that none of that was true and that nothing like… that would happen in real life, because Dream had used real abuse tactics, and those still hurt unless immediately taken care of. So they were. It was a running joke that Dream was stuck at 99 million subscribers since nobody really wanted the face reveal anymore. The other Dream team members were doing peachy.

Phil and Techno were also still primarily Minecraft streamers, but they also released things like advice videos and mental health stuff, especially for relationships. They had a new scripted series where Tommy was a minor character. The dadza jokes were still as real, and yes, outside of streaming, both of them were lovely people and responsible adults (mostly). They collaborated with DanTDM and co a lot more now.

Puffy and Niki kept doing games, but did lots of different ones, testing point and clickers to triple A titles, and making it all fucking hilarious while they were at it.

So where had that left Tommy?

After the Dream SMP, he'd kind of had no idea what to do, and he was going to University for the first time, so he just… did whatever he thought would be fun. He learned about vintage fashion from the queens themselves- Mina Le, Bernadette Banner and Karolina Zebrowska and had fun learning how to sew for the first time, fixing and making his own clothes for the first time, clunky as they were, Wilbur had cried, genuinely, when he saw the Lovejoy shirts that Tommy had made for the band. He'd found a genuine love for literature in university, so Tommy started talking to booktubers and studytubers like Jack Edwards and Noelle Stevenson. Tubbo and Ranboo had joined him, fucking around in any YouTube niche they found even remotely interesting. Eventually, they all found a happy medium- a bit of everything.

Some people obviously weren't happy with that but Tommy was happy as he was, making what he liked with his best friend's, living together close enough to most of their friends (family) to have fun and drop in on one another at ass-o-clock in the morning to comfort, to laugh. His sub count hasn't gone up in a while- most of his audience is static, with about 80-90k online on a stream at any time.p

It was a nice feeling, to have carved out a space for himself and the people he loves, and be is so, so glad that he got this chance.

Looking at his mostly asleep family, Tommy thinks 'yeah. Life is good.' as the last thought before he sleeps.

#dream smp #mcyt #irl fic #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #tubbo #nihachu #ranboo #vee's writing #2021

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