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lovelyhan · 1 year

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— again and again (a teaser) ⟢

pairing: mingyu x reader

summary: your mother calls one day, asking if you’re bringing mingyu along for chuseok this year. in your panic, you end up giving her an affirmative—never mind the fact that you and mingyu have stopped seeing each other over half a year ago.

word count: 1.7k words

tags: exes, fake dating, pining, idol!gyu, vet!reader, mild angst, fluff, smut (in later scenes; the teaser is completely sfw)

warnings: some medical jargon, mentions of shots (for pets)

notes: omg this is so long for a teaser, but it's fine LMAO i'll be away this weekend, so i thought i'd treat you guys to a little something i'm currently working on ^__^ i hope you like it!

When you hear the telltale ring as the call connects to its intended recipient, you wonder why you even considered this idea in the first place. Not to mention, you’re getting a nasty case of phone call anxiety—one that you haven’t felt in god knows how long. Maybe it’s because of the identity of the person you’re calling that your nerves are all over the place.

In fact, you’re not sure if he’s even going to answer. There are a million and a half reasons why famous superstar Kim Mingyu won’t be able to pick up your call. He could be shooting for a music video or some fashion magazine. He could be in the middle of an interview. Or he could be out spending time with his members like tends to these days if his recent Instagram posts are anything to go by.

But you try anyway because your mother sounded so hopeful in the phone call you just hung up on five minutes ago (The rice wine he got for us last Christmas was splendid! He’ll bring some again for Chuseok, won’t he?), that you just didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth.

So, because you can’t take back the pretty white lies you uttered (Uh, of course he will. Gyu told me he missed everyone back at home, too. Especially Namja), you’re attempting to rope Mingyu into the charade even if the odds are against you.

The first call doesn’t go through. Neither does the second.

By your third try, you’re about to accept the fact that you’re going to have to make some due corrections to what you told your mother until you hear a groggy, “Hello?” on the other line.

You nearly fall off your seat at the throaty sound of Mingyu’s voice, but you’d rather not get weird looks from your receptionist, so you breathe in as deeply (and quietly) as you can before mustering a smile that he won’t even be able to see.

“Hey, Mingyu, it’s me,” you begin, a bit proud of how your voice didn’t even falter. “It’s been a while. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

He doesn’t respond for a while, and the prolonged silence makes you bite the inside of your cheek. Did the call fall through? Did he not hear what you said? But just when you’re about to repeat the words—

“Kind of,” Mingyu grumbles, and you try not to think about how sexy his morning voice sounds despite it being two in the afternoon. “We finished taping a variety show today and I figured I’d get some sleep. It’s midnight right now.”

Well that’s news to you.

“Oh. You’re not in Korea?”

“Nah. We’re in New York for some brand collaborations,” he says, and you hear some rustling in the background, followed by a yawn. “Though I doubt you’ve been keeping tabs on us.”

Okay, he doesn’t have to call you out like that.

Sure, you still catch posts from Mingyu, as well as the other twelve members of SEVENTEEN from time to time, but…after breaking up with him (on good terms, promise!), you thought it’s best if you didn’t see too much of them anymore. The block and mute buttons are your best friends, and while you didn’t use them on the members directly, gossip outlets were your regular targets.

So to speak, it’s been a peaceful six months since your break up with Mingyu.

Until now.

“Do you need something?” he asks, and you realize you didn’t respond to what he said last. “Whatever it is, I might not be able to help you out right away. We’re holed up here until next month.”

Well…that’s all the confirmation you needed.

“I see,” you sigh, trying not to sound too disappointed. “It’s— It’s okay.”

“So you do need something,” Mingyu points out, voice much clearer now than it was two minutes ago. Like he was more awake. “What is it?”

“Nothing you should worry about, Gyu,” you reassure before making a face, not realizing how easily the old nickname just slipped out. “I’m sorry for waking you up. You should go back to—”

The sound of him whining at the other end sends another rush of vertigo through your entire being. “Come on, I’m awake anyways right? You know how hard it is for me to fall asleep again.”

“If I’d known we weren’t in the same continent, I wouldn’t have called altogether,” you say before quaintly adding, “Shit. This counts as an international call, doesn’t it?”

There’s someone else in the room with him, you think—a quiet drawl of Mingyu-hyung, what time is it? You immediately recognize it as Seungkwan.

“Five minutes from midnight,” Mingyu says, and Seungkwan asks another question that you aren’t able to catch. “Who am I talking to? Bookkeu and Bobpul’s worst enemy.”

“Hey!” You scowl at him. “They never even whined when you and Seungkwan brought them to me for their shots!”

“Noona? Why are you calling this guy?” Seungkwan says a bit more loudly for you to hear. “Didn’t you dump him already? Good choice, by the way.”

This time it’s Mingyu’s turn to utter out a semi-offended, “Hey! Mind your own business, Seungkwan-ah.”

A few minutes of bickering with his dongsaeng later, you figure that Mingyu must’ve gone outside of their hotel room for some privacy. You can vaguely hear the sound of the wind blowing on his end before he heaves a deep sigh.

“Sorry about that.” He coughs awkwardly. “Anyway, if you’re not going to tell me about what you needed help with, how are you? Is the clinic doing well? Did your receptionist finally ditch her shitty boyfriend? Does that one guy with a husky still hit on you?”

You’re a little overwhelmed by the sudden influx of questions. Last you checked, you haven’t spoken to Mingyu since you greeted him on his birthday over a quick text message. But then again, your ex does have a talent for completely ignoring the time that exists in between interactions. Mingyu’s always been amicable for conversation, idol or not, boyfriend or not.

The mere thought that he hasn’t changed at all makes your heart ache in more ways than one.

You manage a quiet laugh. “I’m fine. The clinic’s fine. Chae has a new boyfriend now. He even helps us sort out new products on the shelves sometimes.”

At the mention of her name, your receptionist whips her head in your direction, one brow raised. You shake your head with a smile, gesturing that this is nothing she should even be remotely concerned about.

It’s just Mingyu after all.

“Okay, how about the guy who—”

“I turned him down when he asked me out for lunch last week.”

He whistles. “Ouch. And he’s been trying to get with you all this time.”

“I don’t usually date my clients, you know.”

“Yeah? I must be special then.”

Then comes the silence—so thick, you can cut through it with a knife.

“Uh, so I have a patient coming in an hour for a castration procedure,” you tell him a bit awkwardly. “Gotta prepare everything before the owner arrives.”

Mingyu sighs, and you can almost imagine him pouting. “You’re really not gonna tell me? I can still help you with whatever you need even when I’m out here. Unless it requires me to, you know, physically be there.”

You chuckle. “That’s the thing, Gyu. You can’t help me because I need you to actually be here.”

“Oh. Why? What for?”

You inhale sharp breath through your nose, closing your eyes as your face warms with embarrassment. Chae is definitely looking at you funnily from her station now, but you tell yourself not to give it too much thought.

“Mom asked if I was bringing you with me for Chuseok,” you admit. “I haven’t been home since Christmas, so… They kind of have no idea that we aren’t together anymore.”

Mingyu falls silent for a while yet again, and you realize that your anxiousness spikes whenever he isn’t talking like there’s no tomorrow. You wonder if he’s figured out what you’re trying to insinuate and is silently berating you for the lapse in judgment. But when Mingyu bursts out laughing on the other end, you suddenly don't mind being on the receiving end of his silence after all.

“No way,” he gasps between chuckles. “You were going to ask me to pretend to be your boyfriend over the holidays, weren’t you?! One of the fans wrote a story about the exact same thing once, except it’s between me and Wonwoo-hyung. It was in English though, but Vernon translated it pretty well.”

…Kim Mingyu admitting to reading fanfiction about himself and Wonwoo aside, you groan. “What am I supposed to do? My family loves you. I’d rather not dampen the Chuseok spirit by saying their favorite son has unfortunately made his unannounced exit half a year ago.”

“So you’re willing to pretend we’re still together just to keep them happy?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not like you’re an ex I should be ashamed of, Gyu.”

“Because I’m an idol that millions are vying for?”

You roll your eyes. “No. It’s because out of all my exes, you’re the only one that Namja actually likes. That’s pretty much the highest honor you can receive in your entire life.”

Your heart does a little flip when Mingyu barks out another light-hearted laugh. You tell yourself that you’re only reacting that way because…it has been a while since you talked to him. That, and Mingyu was always so smiley whenever you brought up your ten year-old retriever.

“Point taken,” he says. “I’d totally be down to help you out, but…yeah.”

“I knew you would be,” you reply, a sad smile ghosting your features. “That’s why I called.”

Silence settles over the line once again, but it’s, by no means, awkward. It’s more…sentimental. Like two old friends reminiscing about the good memories you shared.

Huh. You’re friends with Mingyu…

“Anyway, thanks for catching up with me, Mingyu,” you tell him before you end up saying something you’re not supposed to. “I’ll get going now. Good night.”

“Hey—”

You end the call before he can have the chance to make you falter.

end notes: like the teaser so far? leave a reply if you haven't filled out my taglist form yet and would like to be tagged once the full story is up!

edit: the full fic is up here!

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #svt fanfic #svt smut #kim mingyu #seventeen mingyu #mingyu #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #lovelyhan

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whiskey-tango-matcha · 1 year

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Downfall (pt 2/2)

See? I didn’t lie, part 2 is here and it’s only...11:00PM Sunday night lol. Wow guys, this part got long (like 3.5k words long. Oops.) and *sappy*. But, you know what I love about snz fic? We always give the people what they want. You see a smoking gun in act 1 you best believe it’s going off in act 3. Lmao. Also, I’m sorry if there’s continuity/grammar/spelling errors, I’ll read it through again in the morning and fix them I just can’t do it tonight haha.

Anyway! Hope you guys like the second part.

cw: Male, colds, contagion, mess, there is a passing-out moment in here as well. Shit gets wild lol. This part is heavily inspired by 3 prompts in my inbox, so if you sent a prompt it’s probably featured here!

Downfall - Pt 2

When Elijah opened his eyes Friday morning, he nearly cried in relief; after three full days of feeling like death, he finally, finally felt like he was on the other side of this shit.

The past two days had been a nightmare. After Greyson had called him Tuesday night and told him that not one but two other managers had gone down, Elijah had to mentally prepare himself for a full week of work with one of the worst colds he’d ever endured. He’d walked into the kitchen Wednesday morning stuffed to the gills with dayquil, cough syrup, and ibuprofen; a combination he was sure was actively taking years off of his life. Greyson was already hard at work, despite the fact that Elijah knew he’d been at the restaurant until well after midnight the night before.

“He lives!” Greyson said, throwing his arms up as though Elijah had just scored the winning goal for their nonexistent soccer team. “You look god-awful, and I’m so glad you’re here!”

Elijah coughed out a laugh, and Greyson lead them both into the office. “So, here’s the deal,” Greyson said as they both sat. “I told both Matt and Mark to stay home til Saturday – just to make sure they don’t infect anyone else. I closed the books at 50 covers tonight and tomorrow – and I know, it’s barely enough to cover labor, but we’re in survival mode here, so don’t give me that look. I got in at six, most of my prep for the evening is done, so I figured when we open I can throw on a button down and help on the floor while you expo back here during the rush. Does that all work for you?”

The GM blinked, blindsided. He knew Greyson was good in a shit situation, but damn; the kid should’ve been a fighter pilot or an ER doctor. “Yeah,” Elijah said, “sounds great, Grey.”

So that’s what they’d done. Both Wednesday and Thursday. Elijah had holed up in the office until the servers needed him for preshift, and Greyson had prepared his cooks for two weird nights of Elijah expoing. Service had been moderately slow both evenings, which would’ve been great, if it hadn’t allowed Elijah to hyper-focus on his lingering symptoms and Greyson to flit and fret over him every time he stepped into the kitchen.

“Do you need anything, Lij? Water? Tea? Meds?” The constant stream of mother-henning had eventually worn on everyone, and even Greyson’s cooks had finally said, “Chef, he’s fine.”

But they had gotten through it. Elijah had sneezed and coughed and cursed his way through garnishing dishes, and Greyson had awkwardly talked to tables until finally the week was nearly over. And now it was Friday, one day til the big wedding, and Elijah was finally, finally feeling better.

Elijah walked in at 9AM to a thankfully-empty kitchen; he’d told Greyson the night before to sleep in, prepare himself for the weekend, take some Emergen-C and be absolutely sure he wasn’t going to succumb to the rot Elijah had brought in, but he was surprised that the chef had actually listened to him. The GM placed his things down in their empty office and took a breath; it was going to be okay. Mark and Matt would be back for the wedding, they would be relatively slow tonight, and Saturday would be perfect. Manifest it, Lij, he said to himself, sitting at the desk and turning the computer on. Manifest it.

After an hour or so of paperwork, Elijah heard the back doors open as Greyson let himself in. The GM pushed away from the computer and cracked his neck, anticipating the usual barrage of word vomit Greyson was wont to spew out the moment he walked into the restaurant. “Morning, Chef,” he called out before even seeing Greyson, marveling at how much clearer his voice was today. Fuck that fucking cold.

Greyson stepped into the office and silently saluted his boss, a Starbucks cup adorning each of his hands. “Hey, boss,” he said, placing one in front of Elijah and one next to his own computer. The chef didn’t sit down; instead, he took off his hoodie, grabbed a clean coat from the back of his chair, and buttoned it up before snagging his drink and heading into the kitchen. Elijah swung himself around in his chair, dumbstruck.

“That’s it?” he asked, watching Greyson unpack his knives a few feet away. “‘Hey, boss’? No big gameplan? No huddle to discuss the week’s insanity? No bombardment of questions regarding my health?” Greyson huffed out a laugh, but Elijah wasn’t having it. “You didn’t even tell me what you got me to drink,” he said, holding up the mystery cup.

Greyson raised an eyebrow at his boss and bit back a smile. “It’s a chai,” he said, bemused. Elijah threw his hands up, flustered.

“The amount that that doesn’t address 90% of my questions is truly amazing,” he said, taking a long sip of his drink, which – certainly wasn’t a chai. The hell was that?

“I don’t know what second-rate Starbucks you stopped at, Chef, but this is definitely not a chai,” Elijah said, pushing the cup towards the door. “What is that? It’s like...something lemon.”

Greyson colored a bit and picked up his own cup to look at the sticker. “Ah, fuck,” he mumbled, striding back into the office and switching their cups. “Sorry ’bout that. I switched the cups.”

“What is it?” Elijah asked, his face seemingly stuck in a mask of disgust. “So that I can remember to never order it.”

Greyson rolled his eyes. “Have you ever ordered something from Starbucks that wasn’t a chai?” he asked, sipping his drink. Elijah shrugged and turned towards that computer again.

“Fair enough,” he said, waking the screen by shaking the mouse. He turned to Greyson again when the floorplan popped up on his screen. “Can we take a quick look at tonight together? Since Matt and Mark are still out? Do you think we should cut the covers off now, or go to 75?” Elijah squinted, his face nearly touching the screen in concentration. After a few moments of silence, he peeled himself away from the monitor to glance at the chef, who was – the fuck was he doing?

“The fuck are you doing?” Elijah asked, snapping Greyson out of his trance. The chef had been turned almost all the way around, facing the kitchen. Clearly he hadn’t heard a word Elijah said.

“Huh? Shit, sorry boss. Lost in thought,” Greyson said, turning back toward the GM. “Uhh… 75. Yeah, that looks good,” he finished, lamely. Elijah raised his eyebrows.

“What’s your problem today?” he asked, though not with malice. Greyson chuckled.

“Just got a lot on my mind, boss,” he said. “Big weekend. Week’s been long. I need to get back to prep, if that’s okay.” Elijah gave Greyson another look, but nodded after a moment and shooed him out. Greyson smiled at his boss, held his cup out in a false ‘cheers’. “I’ll be prepping in the back kitchen if you need me,” he said, and disappeared past the line into the back.

It wasn’t Elijah’s fault, he reasoned with himself later, that he hadn’t seen through the ruse. He’d just barely gotten over a monster of a cold; he was himself busy and stressed; it was early and he hadn’t had enough caffeine. He couldn’t be expected to decode what was wrong with Greyson every time the kid acted weird. However, he couldn’t help but kick himself when he finally realized – thirty minutes before service – what the weird-tasting drink the chef had gotten himself was. Aptly named, of course, and something Elijah himself had only had once before, courtesy of Greyson himself.

A medicine ball. Greyson had gotten himself a medicine ball.

***

He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to keep this up, but it certainly wasn’t going to be through tomorrow’s wedding.

Greyson sat down, fully clothed, on the toilet and put his head in his hands for the third time that day. The fact that Elijah hadn’t noticed at this point was a mix of pure dumb luck and more sudafed than a human person should ever in their life consume. He assumed the former would begin to run out soon, as the latter had hours ago.

“Huhh...HNGSTH! NTSH! ITZSH! Fuck – HNGTSZHUE! Goddamn it.”

Greyson pulled a length of toilet paper from the roll and blew his nose until it made him cough. He checked his watch as he threw the toilet paper into the trashcan next to him – 9:15PM. When he’d stepped into this bathroom, dodging Elijah as he locked the door, all but one of the tables had left. He’d go back to the line, he’d tell Leo, his grill cook who’d been there nearly as long as he had, to check that everyone had cleaned thoroughly, and he’d sneak out the back before Elijah could question him.

And then what? Greyson asked himself as he stood and washed his hands. You somehow make a miraculous recovery between now and tomorrow morning? Have you seen how this shit took down Elijah, Mark, and Matt?

Greyson ignored the voice in his head and dried his hands. He assumed Elijah hadn’t noticed because they were both wildly busy before service, and once service had started, they were both worn thin being the only managers in their departments for the third day in a row. Greyson had managed to keep the congestion out of his voice with the aforementioned sudafed, and he had taken his happy ass to the bathroom or out back to ‘smoke’ when he really needed to sneeze or cough all night. Elijah had definitely given him some looks through the evening, but nothing Greyson couldn’t brush off by pulling a ticket distractedly and not making eye contact.

Tomorrow, though? When Matt and Mark were both going to be back, and they were all going to be prepping their asses off for the wedding? He genuinely had no idea what he was going to do to keep them from noticing.

Greyson exited the bathroom, stealthily managing to avoid his boss as he slipped into the kitchen. He gathered his things, put Leo in charge, and was nearly out the door, nearly safe, when -

“Chef!” Elijah called behind him, making him freeze in his tracks just outside the back door. Fuck.

“Yeah, boss?” Greyson asked, turning to face Elijah and hoping he didn’t look like the garbage fire he felt. Elijah crossed his arms over his chest in the cold of the alleyway and motioned to Greyson’s entire being.

“You leaving?” he asked tapping his foot. Greyson managed a smile and lifted his backpack and knife bag a little for inspection.

“Is it obvious?” he asked, quietly clearing his throat to mask the gravel of his voice. Elijah didn’t say anything for a few moments.

“Leo shutting down the line?” he asked. Greyson nodded, swallowing around a throat on fire.

“Yeah,” he said. “Did you uh…ndeed something from mbe?” Fuck.

Elijah gave Greyson a pointed look. “Grey,” he said, voice low. “If you’re sick, you need to tell me. Now.”

Greyson felt his cheeks redden, but he immediately shook his head. “I’mb good,” he said, cursing once again the congestion that had sneaked into his voice. “Promise. I gotta go, I’mb gonna mbiss mby train.” Without missing a beat, the chef turned around and headed towards the street, hoping his boss couldn’t see him stifle nearly ten sneezes into his fist as he walked.

This was not going to end well.

***

It was worse than Elijah could have even imagined.

When Elijah walked into the restaurant that morning, the first thing he did was text Greyson.

9:01AM

Hey. I’m here, is there anything you want me to pull out/start on before you get in?

9:01AM

Also, how are you feeling?

Normally, he’d get a response in moments; when Greyson wasn’t at work, the man was glued to his phone, playing some stupid game or messaging one of his fifty Bumble suitors he kept on the line at all times. I get bored, he often said to Elijah. One starts annoying me, BOOM! Onto the next.

Today, though, nearly twenty minutes passed before Elijah’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out immediately and couldn’t help but wince at the text the chef sent.

9:18AM

great. no. ill be there in 20.

Anyone who texted with Greyson more than once in their life knew that if he wasn’t being his multi-exclamation-point, constant-joke-and-lol self over text, he was probably close to death. Elijah typed out an ‘ok’ to the chef, before making a thread with Matt and Mark.

9:31AM

Elijah

Hey, guys. Just making sure you’re both on your way in. Greyson’s gonna be down bad. Need all hands on deck asap.

9:32AM

Mark

???? is he ok??? down bad in what way?

9:33AM

Matt

ya, coming now. figured chef would’ve gone down by now. should I bring anything?

9:34AM

Elijah

Just your stamina. Gonna be a long day. Thx.

9:34AM

Mark

no one answered my ?

im so confused

shit, I knew I got greyson sick. fuuuuuuuuck. sorry, boss :(

9:35AM

Elijah

All good. Inevitable. Let’s just get this day done.

Elijah clicked his phone off and sighed. He could go for a whiskey, or even just a long, drawn out scream about now, but a cigarette and a prayer would have to do him. Twelve hours until the wedding was over.

***

How Greyson managed to make it to work was anyone’s guess, him included.

The chef pushed through the back doors and before he could even get past the prep kitchen he was doubled over, sneezing into the sleeve of his hoodie.

“HhhIGSTZH-ue! HuhESHHH-ue! HRRTSCHZUE! NGTSHZUE! Christ, fuck,” Greyson muttered, wiping his nose on his sleeve for what he could only wish he could say was the first time that morning. He cleared his throat, which was for naught since he could barely speak, and continued his trudge into the main kitchen.

When Greyson had made it home last night, he told himself he’d be able to continue to hide his burgeoning illness. He thought maybe more medicine, some Vick’s, and a good night’s sleep would give him the upper hand against it. He’d told himself he was stronger than his coworkers, that his immune system wouldn’t fail him on one of the most important days of his career.

Oh, how the mighty will fall.

“HhNGTSHHZUE! ITSZH-uhh! Fuuuuck,” Greyson moaned, stumbling into the thankfully-empty office and yanking a handful of tissues from the box on the desk. He wiped his nose, unwilling to unleash the volley of sneezes he knew would be behind a nose blow, and pressed his palms into his eyes to try and relieve some of the pressure. Who the fuck gets a cold this fucking bad, Elijah, he wondered silently.

As if conjured, Greyson felt his phone buzz with a text from his boss.

10:07AM

Bless. That sounds fucking awful.

Could a guy not get a moment’s peace in this fucking place?

10:08AM

i should call the cdc’s biohazard unit on u for unleashing this shit onto us.

An admission, but what else was he supposed to do? Elijah could hear him in the dining room. The game was over. Greyson put his head back into his hands until he heard his boss’s footsteps click into the kitchen.

“...chef?” Elijah asked, and Greyson wearily lifted his head.

“Mornding,” Greyson croaked, before turning to the side to cough, crackly and painful-sounding, into his sleeve. He felt something get placed on the desk next to him, and when he finally was able to compose himself he saw it was a Starbucks cup. Greyson smiled, weary.

“Chai?” he asked, picking up the cup. Elijah huffed out a laugh.

“Something like that,” he said, moving to sit next to Greyson. “Now, hear me out. I think I have a gameplan.”

***

At five o’clock, Elijah finally went to rouse the man of the hour with a knock on the office door.

“Chef,” he said, trying to wake Greyson as gently as possible. “Grey. We need you for plate-up.” Greyson nodded blearily and, with the help of both Matt and Elijah, managed to get to his feet.

It had been an interesting day for sure. Elijah’s plan had been for Greyson to try and help with some of the more intricate parts of prep in the morning, and then lay down from noon until it was go time, but that had proved nearly impossible.

Greyson had managed to prep for about three minutes at a time before dissolving into nasty coughing fits that lasted minutes at a time, or absolutely relentless bouts of -

“HTSHH-ue! HRSHH-ue! Hhuhh…NGTSHZUE! ITSZHUE! Huhh-ETSHZCH-oo!”

“Christ, boss,” Matt said, attempting a laugh after a particularly intense fit of sneezes, “When you go down you really go – oh, fuck.” In teasing his boss, Matt nearly missed Greyson’s eyes rolling back into his head and his knees buckling as he lost consciousness for a moment. “ELIJAH!” Matt called, catching his boss and lowering him to the ground as gracefully as possible.

Once they’d managed to get Greyson back to a standing position, Elijah had decided it was too risky to let him continue to be...vertical. Greyson had laid out for Matt exactly what he needed him to do to finish preparing the food, and retreated to the blanket fort they had all heavily utilized this week for a sleep that more closely resembled a coma than anything restorative.

Matt, Elijah, and even Mark had managed to finish the prep Greyson had worked so hard on that week by four PM. Once they felt ready, the three of them gathered in front of the office to stare at the racked-out chef.

“Should we… ask him if everything looks okay?” Mark had asked, ringing his hands. Matt and Elijah exchanged a look before Elijah shook his head.

“I think… I think he’ll be okay with just about anything at this point,” Elijah said. The other two nodded, unwilling to take this precious moment of sleep away from the chef.

When the guests were all seated and ready for first courses, it was, of course, Elijah’s job to wake the sleeping bear. Greyson, ever the trooper, took his place at the pass and regarded the three of them with all the pride he could muster.

“Thangk you guys. Really,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “Ndow. Let’s get this shit over w – HGSTHH-ue! Snrf. Guhh,” Greyson held tight to the granite counter top and pulled himself back to his full height.

“Let’s get this done,” he said, pulling out his tweezers. “And whend it’s over, I’mb ndot answering mby phone for a fuckigg week.”

They all managed a laugh. They all assumed their positions for plating and running food. This certainly wasn’t the glamorous job it was portrayed in the movies, but they did have something all that media never seemed to truly capture; they had each other, and this place that all of them thought of as not a second, but a true home.

Greyson cleared his throat as the first of the servers came through the doors, bearing labeled sheets with seat numbers. “Order in!” he called, and they all put their heads down and began their work.

#whiskeyswriting #snz #snz fet #snez #snzfic #sniction #sickfic #coldfic #male cold #original charater #m cold #oc sickfic #snzblr #aight im going to bed lol i feel like a teenager again up late writing snz fic christ ive regressed lmaoooo

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wren-kitchens · 1 year

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midnight ramblings

I was looking through my wips and found this so here you go lmao

it’s set (obviously) in s8, scarian, if you can think of any tws I need to put please tell me!

“I think we might die.”

grian and scar are perched precariously on the roof of the swaggon, occasionally having to pull the other back onto the flatter part of the slippery copper. the moon is big—hardly a fraction of what it’ll soon be—but big, and the blocks are flying too high for comfort, and grian hasn’t slept for weeks, and the world is in disarray.

scar had come to grian’s house a few hours prior, babbling about something to do with bdubs and the moon’s child and sacrifices that grian just couldn’t make out. but scar looked upset and scared, and grian knew that why he was feeling that couldn’t be helped or changed.

so, because there was nowhere else really to go, grian brought scar up to the roof and tried to distract him. and it’s worked, they’re distracting each other (because scar of course noticed how equally terrified grian is of all this) very well. but grian is far to tired to filter himself properly, and to be fair it doesn’t seem like they have a lot of time left. so he says it.

scar scoffs a little. “you think, huh?”

grian is laying on his front, staring at midnight alley. “i’m fairly certain.”

“gee, what gave you that idea?” scar asks sarcastically. grian’s noticed that in situations where scar is scared, he typically reverts to sarcasm. he reckons it’s a way of deflecting. “couldn’t be the moon hurtling towards us, could it?”

“no, it’s the fact that we’re on a slippery roof.” grian says. “of course it’s the moon, scar.”

scar is quiet for a moment, and his voice is heartachingly small when he speaks. “why do you think this is happening, g?”

grian sighs. he wishes he could hold scar close and tell him it’s okay, that he can fix it. “I don’t know.” he admits. “I wish I did.”

“mumbo doesn’t.” scar says. “that much is clear.”

grian chuckles. “yeah. I should sleep at some point, whatever he’s doing isn’t working.”

“it’s a good phantom farm at least.” scar says. “i’ll give him that.”

“and the redstone on the statues is cool. or was, when it worked.” grian grins.

“yeah.” scar laughs along.

grian looks at him. his eyes crinkle in the corners as he smiles. under them are dark smudges, not nearly as big as grian’s but still promenant. his hair is starting to grow shaggy, his suit jacket a little unkempt, skin stained with dirt and oxidised rust from the copper.

he is, despite it all, beautiful.

under the silvery light of the bulbous moon, scar looks ethereal. the way it floods his features akin to water over a marble statue makes grian’s heart swell. if grian were to die right now, with this image as the last thing he sees, he wouldn’t mind.

scar turns to him and grins. “taking in the view or about to fall asleep?”

“neither.” grian says easily. “debating whether or not to push you down the roof.”

“hey!” scar pouts and grian bursts out laughing.

“okay, okay, you’re very handsome and i’m sorry for wanting to push you.” grian smiles.

“too right I am.” scar says. “you’re very handsome too.” he adds, a softer note to his voice.

“why, thank you.” grian preens.

scar smiles at him, gaze lingering. grian watches as his eyes flicker up and down, from his eyes to his lips and back again. grian finds himself wanting to push his body into scar’s, be held by him until the end of time, scar’s hand in his hair and lips against his forehead.

grian sits up. “come over here, for a moment?”

scar’s eyes narrow with suspicion, but must notice the shy tone in grian’s voice as he nods, and shuffles up the roof to grian. grian immediately climbs into his arms.

“you’re like jellie.” scar chuckles, jokily petting his hair. “what’s up?”

“too tired to figure that out.” grian decides, face buried in scar’s suit jacket. “I wanted to hug you. you’re a very huggable person.”

“I get that a lot.” scar says, like he’s surprised.

“anyone ever tell you you’re a very kissable person either?” grian smiles to himself.

“I- well, as a joke, I suppose.” scar says, starting to stumble over his words in the endearing way he does when he’s embarrassed. “why?”

grian pulls back and plants a kiss on scar’s nose. “‘cause you are.” he kisses his cheeks, grinning.

he knows if he wasn’t sleep deprived to the point of it being a medical emergency, he would no way have the confidence to do this. but he mentally thanks mumbo for making this weird cult thing, because it’s lead to the rare treat of seeing scar flustered.

scar’s face fills with colour, and his eyes widen. if grian looks carefully, he can see that scar’s pupils are a little wider than normal.

“oh- oh, g, you’re. you’re very kind.” scar stammers. “I, um. thank you.”

grian’s face must visibly light up, because scar quickly adds, “whatever you’re thinking, mister, don’t do it.”

“scar,” grian says. “would you object to me kissing you.”

grian doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone more flustered than scar is right now.

“I- well, I mean-“ scar is looking around frantically, avoiding grian’s gaze. “that, um. that’s an interesting question, i’m not-“

“scar, yes or no.” grian is starting to doubt his judgement. what if he was wrong, and scar doesn’t love him back, and he’s just ruined their friendship, and-

grian’s internal litany of impending doom is cut off when scar says,

“i- I don’t think i, ah. would object to that.”

grian blinks. “really?” he asks, poorly hiding his excitement.

“well, I mean,” scar turns and finally looks at grian. his expression is heartachingly shy. “you’re a pretty kissable person too.”

grian inhales. “oh.”

“sorry, um. to clarify, do- do you love me?” scar asks, blushing at himself. “‘cause I don’t want to assume or anything.” he adds quickly. “not that it’s bad if you don’t- it’s okay if you don’t, obviously. I wouldn’t wanna pressure you into saying something you don’t believe or-“

grian presses a quick kiss to scar’s lips. when he pulls away, he grins shyly.

scar stares at him for a moment. “is- is that a hint for me to stop talking?” he asks.

“yes, because I can’t get a word in edgeways.” grian tells him. “how else am I supposed to say yes?”

“oh.” scar’s voice is ever so soft, and he’s looking at grian like he’s only the person alive, and it’s all too much for his sleep deprived brain but he’s so happy.

“if we die,” grian says. “will I be able to go out, calling you my boyfriend?”

“only if I can call you mine.” scar smiles, like he’s surprised at just how well this night is going.

“then i’d say we have a deal.” grian says, burying himself in scar’s embrace again.

“g.” scar says gently.

“mhm?”

“we should sleep.”

grian reluctantly looks up. “I think you’re right.”

“I don’t think we should sleep here.” scar says.

“scar,”

“yeah?”

“i’m too tired to move.” grian says.

“you nightmare.” scar says, so fond it almost breaks grian’s heart. “alrighty mr birdie, let’s get you to bed.”

scar opens his elytra, before scooping grian up in his arms.

“i’m only sleeping if you stay with me.” grian says, eyes already drooping shut.

“i’m not leaving you, g.” scar assures him.

“i’m going nowhere.”

#I miss boatem every day #i’d completely forgotten ab this and oml I need to forget about fics more often since when could I write well??#hermitshipping #scarian #desert duo #moon’s big #hoax writes #hermitcraft ficlet #because it smal #i’m actually so proud of this which is abnormal for anything I write #i’ll post this to ao3 later

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firewoodfigs · 2 years

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some quick life updates before i yeet myself off to bed and trick my body into a regular sleep cycle:

bali was great!!! i miss it terribly already. the people were lovely and the beaches were lovely and it was just nice to finally get away from this claustrophobic island of a country after nearly three!!! miserable!!! years!!! it was low-key exhausting because we fit so much into four days - we literally woke up at six in the morning on the third day to take a ferry to nusa penida (me, plagued by motion sickness: dear Lord take this cup away from me) and then did stuff like hike a ton in the tropical blistering heat and snorkel in ridiculously choppy waters. fun fact: I actually can’t swim so LMAO but well *shrugs* here I am... I say this calmly but in reality I was choking on seawater and yelling at my bf HAHAHAHA

coming back home was super stressful because 4/9 of us who went on the trip got covid lol. I was fretting so hard on the flight home bcs my bf was shivering and breaking out in cold sweat from a fever that just came out of nowhere and the plane did not have BLANKETS because it was a transit flight. what. anyways when we landed and checked our phones one of our friends was like, “fuck, I’m positive”, and we were like, fuuuuuck. I was so sure we got it because all 9 of us shared a burger the night before, so we self-isolated for a few days just to be safe, but it turned out to just be stomach flu on my bf’s end. (I somehow got out miraculously unscathed...)

also because I got bombarded with work the past two weeks bcs it was my beloved coworker’s turn to go on holiday after me... it was rough, man. I think I worked till or past midnight most days (although I generally try to take Wednesday and Friday nights off for Mental HealthTM) but honestly I'm just happy to not be fired because it was just me and my boss holding the fort together and i’m pretty sure I sent him trash at some point but he was genuinely so nice about it. like, he sent me an email with super detailed feedback and was like, don’t worry, it’s not stuff I expected you to know because it’s super technical, but just keep trying and you’ll get better and I was like yo... thanks... /cryingindaclub

I turned 25 recently and it is just. quarter life crisis ahoy. HELP. I need Taylor swift to write a song about being 25 and knowing nothing at all. actually I just need Dr Swift to drop a new album because I've listened to folklore and evermore so many times that it’s starting to feel a little repetitive and. idk. mad (woman)

royai week completely slipped my mind with everything that’s been going on and my submissions will probably be really tardy (if they even get finished at all HAHAH) but the prompts this year have been really nudging me back towards writing again. they’re INCREDIBLE!!! I can’t wait to see how everyone interprets it - I'm sure it’ll be fantastic. i have to confess I've been kinda out of fma/royai lately bcs I've been working on other original stuff (also because my latest obsession is Star Wars LOL but this fandom was truly one of the best things that happened to me in 2020 and it’s just really nice to see everyone coming together again for the best week of the year. genuinely feels like Christmas in the summer but instead of mistletoe we have fic. what’s not to love?

anyways yeah tldr idk if I'll end up participating but I'm really looking forward to see what everyone has in store!!! x

ALRIGHT im off to bed take care and stay hydrated and safe mates I’m sending yall all my love to conquer the upcoming week <3

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88088-8 · 2 years

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Why do i get bursts of fucking anxiety in the middle of the night. Like I’m just sitting here chilling. Watching a tv show and all of the sudden i feel my chest tighten and my skin starts to crawl dude.

But today is the first time in a long time that I’ve gotten a REAL apology from clb. I feel like he actually feels bad for hurting my feelings. Idk really time will tell at the end of the day.

I’m just rambling because i need an outlet. It’s been nice to get some peace and quiet here and there. Like with my mom coming to pick up Halie and also Caleb has just been doing more all around. Well i guess its more of me LETTING him do things instead of just taking over. Idk her daddy is just as important in her life as her mommy. I feel like I just really want to do everything all the time because i want to make sure she’s 100% taken care of up to my standards but honestly out of everyone Caleb is the only person on earth who looks after our daughter up to my standards.

But Halie did scare the crap out of me today. Her fever got so high… at one point it read at 103.5. A couple more points and it would start cooking her brain. And that’s literally any moms worst nightmare. Luckily a cool bath and some Tylenol got it under control really quickly but for a second I didn’t know if i should be heading to the emergency room or not.

Right now I’m trying my best to stay awake because Caleb is leaving to go run an errand and its nearly midnight. He even said “wait up for me” aweee man. I could easily just go lay down with Halie and fall straight to sleep. Especially since I didn’t even sleep in my bed next to Halie lastnight. Lmao. I got drunk and slept in the guest room and threw up in the trash can in there OMG. (Btw i need to take that out of there)

But overall id say i really like where my life is headed. The vibes of my home. My family, close and distant. And friends! We’ve been having a lot of fun this summer. We went to California and Halie rode on a plane!! Met Niko my baby nephew! Went to the river, and in like 20 days were going on a yacht on lake Travis and I’m so excited! This has honestly been the best summer I’ve had in such a long time. Maybe even my entire life. So THAT says something for sure.

Anyways I’m going to go ahead and quit it on here.

Gnight. Peace out, Girl Scout

One more thingggg though. I did just apply for a credit card so no more riding around with noooo fkn money bisssh

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honeypiehotchner · 3 years

Text

sleepy (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader) || one-shot

This idea has been circling in my brain for two days and tonight I finally wrote it LMAO This is just what my 20 year old virgin ass fantasizes about ok

Summary: Sleepy sex with Aaron. That’s it. That’s the fic.

Warnings: smut (obvi), cockwarming (while asleep), I think that’s it

It’s almost midnight when Aaron feels you crawling into bed beside him.

You’ve been up late nearly every night this week, working on a big project because the deadline is approaching faster than you’d like. You feel incredibly guilty about it, and Aaron knows this even though you haven’t voiced it.

He has early mornings which means early nights, so you practically spend no time with him at all when you have late nights like this — because by the time he’s waking up for work, you’re just barely entering deep sleep.

You try your hardest not to move too much as you get into bed, not wanting to wake him, which is stupid. He’s the lightest sleeper you’ve ever known, for good reason, too, but still.

He hasn’t told you this, but he never does fall deeply asleep until he feels you next to him. Sure, he dozes because he’s exhausted before you come in, but he never truly drifts off until he hears your soft breathing evening out.

Tonight, though, your breathing doesn’t even out and it’s been thirty minutes since you got in bed.

Aaron peels his eyes open to find you looking right at him. You smile softly, realizing you’ve been caught.

“Hi,” you whisper, scooting closer to give him a kiss on the lips. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” he says, but you know you did. “C’mere. You’re stressed out. What’s wrong?”

You chuckle at his subtle profiling, but you curl into his side anyway. “Just feel like I have a lot more to do than I have time for.” You pause, burying your face in his shoulder. “And I miss you.”

“I miss you too, honey,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Let’s have dinner tomorrow. We’ll go out.”

You sigh. “I don’t know, I have—”

“You need a break from it,” he interrupts gently. “A two hour break to go get dinner won’t kill you. You’ll finish on time.”

“You’re sure?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t sure,” he replies, but it isn’t snarky, it’s comforting. He knows that sometimes you need reassurance from someone other than yourself.

“Okay,” you exhale, stretching your legs and arms, releasing some tension hiding in your muscles. And then, to get even more comfortable, you raise your left leg and hitch it over his hips, pulling him closer.

“Really?” He laughs, his arm tightening around you. “Comfy?”

“Mhm,” you hum, kissing his neck a few times. “You smell good. Did you use the new soap I bought?”

“Yeah,” he replies breathily. “You need to sleep.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re making me hard.”

“Aaron!” Your laughter bubbles out of your chest so fast that you giggle like a child. “Fine, maybe you caught me.”

He hums, but you don’t stop kissing his neck. His eyes slip closed, enjoying the gentle touches. You want to be closer, though, so you slide on top of him, your chest pressed against his as your lips hover over his.

He opens his eyes, raising an eyebrow. “Yes?”

You grin, lowering your lips to kiss him, and you’ve won him over. His arms circle your waist, tugging you closer, tighter against his body as his lips quickly dominate yours — not that it’s hard for him to. You submit willingly, always loving the way he devours you so easily, making you his with every stroke of his tongue, every nip of his teeth.

Before long you’re grinding your core against him, swallowing his groans, grinning when his hands find their way to your hips, pressing you down harder.

“Fuck me,” you whine. “Please.”

“Needy,” he tuts, but he’s too far gone to bother with anything else.

He slides his shorts off and you jump out of excitement when you feel his cock against your leg. You pull your panties to the side, too impatient to try taking them off and he guides himself in, gasping when he feels how wet you are already.

“Were you thinking about this, sweet girl?” He groans, gripping your hips tightly as you lower yourself down all the way.

“Always am,” you exhale shakily, resting your forehead against his chest. “Shit.” He always fills you perfectly, stretches you so well, you’ll never get over it. He’s always so deep, every time you swear he’s deeper than the last.

He fucks you slow and sweet, cradling you in his chest, shushing your whines when he adjusts, going even deeper than before.

Your first orgasm is small, relaxing, and he slows his pace while you calm down from the high. But before you can relax too much, he readjusts once more, hitting your g-spot, making you see stars, gasp for air.

“Breathe, honey,” he says gently, as if he isn’t fucking you into oblivion every time he hits that spot.

You drop your face into his neck, breathing deeply, circling your hips when he’s all in, a broken sob creeping up your throat at how amazing it feels.

The second orgasm that breaks through you makes Aaron see stars with how hard you’re squeezing him, and all it takes is one more thrust into your quivering heat before he spills inside you.

Warmth spreads throughout your abdomen at the feeling of his release, and Aaron is mesmerized every time he hears the shuddering breath you let out.

“Goodnight,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his middle, snuggling in.

“Goodnight?” He chuckles, still breathless. “Are you sleeping here?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Okay,” he accepts it. “Let me—”

“No,” you whine, pushing your hips down. “Stay.”

“Honey—”

“Please?”

Aaron sighs, knowing he can’t and won’t ever argue with you when you sound this sleepy and soft. “Okay, honey. Goodnight.”

“N’night,” you whisper, shifting closer, as if that’s possible.

But when he hears your breathing even out as you drift peacefully off to sleep, Aaron swears he falls even more in love.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner one shot #sleepy #smut #criminal minds

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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

Paparazzi.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: TOO META, m*sturbation, mentions of s*x

Requested: nope

Summary: I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me... Y/N Y/L/N writes Marvel fanfictions. One day, Sebastian stumbles upon her account and, unable to help himself, reads all the stuff she has written about him. He didn't mean to fall so hard for her but he does. How can he not? She has shown him parts of himself that he never even knew existed.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Okay so a few weeks ago I read a similar (but dark) fanfic and I really wanted to write a softer version of it... Enjoy!

---

Same old, boring routine.

Y/N hit post and slumped against the headrest of her bed, sighing. She waited; a minute, then two passed and she noticed that someone had liked her post. She smiled to herself as she kept her phone away. Though boring, she wouldn't trade her life for the world. Y/N… well, she was a university student first and foremost but she was also a writer.

Being a big fan of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, she had started writing fanfictions a few years ago. She posted them on Tumblr, where her blog, though not very well-known, stood out enough for her posts to get around 800-1000 likes per post. She loved it; she loved writing, she loved posting her stories and especially, she loved the feedback.

Sometimes people were rude, but most times, the reviews she got were fantastic. She read each and every one of them, smiling goofily as people freaked out over her fanfictions. It warmed her heart. A smile automatically blooming on her face, Y/N lay down on the bed and decided to go to sleep, it being almost 3 am.

Unbeknownst to her, someone else was up at the same time, tossing and turning in his bed, restless.

Sebastian sighed as he sat up, running a hand through his hair. He drank some water and lay down again, closing his eyes but it was like sleep was mad at him. Refused to be anywhere near him. He groaned to himself and picked up his phone from the nightstand, deciding to go through Instagram, hoping he'd finally fall asleep to the glare of the screen.

As he logged into his account, he skipped the activity page and went straight to the explore page. Bored, he continued scrolling until his eyes landed on a specific photo. And the breath escaped his lungs when he clicked on it; the woman in the picture was absolutely gorgeous. He just couldn't resist going to her page, smiling widely when he read her bio.

It gave him her basic information; her name, her age, the university she attended. But what caught his eye was the link below the bio. My Marvel Fanfictions Master List. Marvel fanfictions? She was a writer? Smirking, he clicked on the link and it took him to Tumblr. Of course, he'd heard of the site, but didn't have an account on there. At 3 am, his mind sure wasn't working right.

A post popped up on the screen, the same master list she had mentioned earlier. And his eyes bulged out of their sockets; damn, those are a lot of fanfictions. He went through the whole thing, smirking again when he noticed that she had written the most fanfictions about him. Not Bucky Barnes, no, Sebastian Stan.

He clicked on the first one. The date of posting was way back, in 2019. He started reading; nothing about it felt weird to him; he was intrigued, if anything. And as he continued reading, he couldn't help but imagine her being in the stead of the female protagonist. Her, the writer. The woman whose picture had made him end up reading in the first place.

When he finished the story, his heart thudded wildly in his chest. Wow, she really has a way with words. And he had also noticed how in the author's note, she used a lot of slang but reading the story had made him realize that she had an amazing, extensive vocabulary. He went back to the master list and clicked on the latest post under his name.

Posted: 15 minutes ago.

His breath hitched in his throat when he read the warnings: there was going to be sexual intercourse in this one. For one moment, he hesitated; did he really want to read this? "Oh fuck it," he huffed and scrolled, starting to read. The more he read, the more his shaft twitched in his pants. He wasn't really like that during… but oh damn, he wasn't complaining.

"Oh, Seb…"

His hand slid down and he rubbed himself through his boxers, unable to take his eyes off the text in front of him. His strokes got harder and faster as the sex got steamier. "Ungh, I'm gonna cum—" And he suddenly came in his boxers, groaning. Slumping down on the bed, he quickly finished reading the rest of it, going back to the master list.

He took a screenshot with the account's name in it and then went back to her Instagram account to take another screenshot. Keeping his phone away, he slipped out of his boxers, cleaned himself and pulled the covers on top of him, finally feeling tired enough to fall asleep.

---

Y/N was walking across the campus of her university, going to the cafeteria when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Taking it out, she opened Tumblr to read the message someone had sent her just then.

his-username: Hi there! I was binging your account last night, you write really well

your-username: Omg thank you!!!! I really appreciate it, I love getting feedback! 🥺❤

his-username: You're welcome! Especially your latest post, that was really good ;)

your-username: hehe 😈 glad you liked it!

Smiling widely, she kept her phone away and continued walking, not knowing that the person who had texted her was the same man she had written about. Sebastian smiled to himself when he read her text. After getting up in the morning, the first thing he had done was install Tumblr on his phone. Then he made an account for himself.

Figuring out the app was easy; he found out that there was an option to keep your liked posts and the accounts you followed hidden, and selected it immediately. No one needed to know what he did on the app. Then he went back to her account, pressed the follow button and started binge-reading her fanfictions again. Last night had he read only two, and that had left him wanting more.

Funny how much things can change in a night. He liked and reblogged all her posts without a second thought; he even read all her Bucky Barnes posts. She understood his character so well, put him on what he thought was an undeserved pedestal while writing about him. Some of the stories were AUs, which he found out stood for Alternate Universes. Mostly mobster or mafia stuff.

He had the day off, and he spent the entire time cooped up in his apartment, on his bed, reading. The more he read, the more he started fawning over her, over the version of him that she put out to the world. Dominating, suave and just perfect. He loved it. At the end of the day, he decided to text her again, hoping she wouldn't think he was weird or find out the truth.

his-username: do you wanna be friends, maybe? I'm new to the app, don't really have any friends here ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

That was a lie, he knew Mark Ruffalo had an active Tumblr account. But it's not like he could tell him.

your-username: Yes sure!!!! I was also thinking of making some friends on this app lol

his-username: You don't have any on here? But you've been here for years, haven't you?

your-username: haha yeah, but I don't really reach out to people much. Sometimes people leave their feedbacks on my posts, text me but that's that

his-username: Ohhh

his-username: well, let's start with names. Mine's Sebastian

your-username: Really?????? omg that's so cool lmaooooooo (didn't think you were a boy but 😳👀)

his-username: Not a boy, I'm a man 😤😂

your-username: 🤣 im y/n, btw

his-username: Y/N, that's a nice name

your-username: thank you!!!! So, what do you do?

his-username: nothing really that interesting, I'm in theatre

your-username: theatre is nice! I'm studying at [university] in New York lmao

his-username: Wait you're in New York? So am I!

your-username: ASDFHKSHKGF that's awesome!!! also I noticed that you've been going through my account the whole day 😏 notifications upon notifications keeping my phone busy

his-username: Oopsie?

your-username: 😂😂 I really don't mind, it was great! Despite the amount of likes on my posts, I only have a few loyal followers lmao gaining one more felt nice

your-username: You a big fan of Sebastian Stan? Cuz I noticed that you were only reading his and Bucky's fics 👀

Sebastian's face heated up.

his-username: kinda yeah 🤷🏻‍♂️😁

your-username: Cool cool cool, I'm a big fan of his too!!!! also got a crush on him but whatever 😳

Sebastian smirked at his phone. A crush on him, huh? That… was acceptable. He suddenly felt his cocky side coming out; the one she described in nearly all her fanfictions.

his-username: wouldn't blame ya, I mean, look at him. You have also written the most fics about him and Bucky

your-username: right????? damn that man has raised my standards. Anyway, I gtg now, I have to finish a paper before midnight. ttyl!

his-username: Bye! 👋🏻

He kept his phone away and took in a deep breath. This was the most fun he had had in years, and he was not letting her go so easy. He realized he was quickly falling for her; rather unhealthy, but he couldn't help it. Look at her. She looks like a goddamn angel, writes like one, makes him feel like one, do you really expect him not to fall for her? That's insane.

---

Months passed by like a breeze. Y/N and Sebastian had become very good friends, and he knew his way around words just enough to keep her from finding out his identity while not lying to her. Y/N also appreciated his friendship, because he was the one to whom she could rant about her most favorite man in the world— Sebastian Stan.

Sometimes, she thought about how weird of a coincidence it was that her new friend and the actor shared the same names, but then she used to brush it off; that was a common name, right? They talked for hours on end; Sebastian (her friend, not the actor) was extremely witty, smart and fun to talk to, she had to admit. Sebastian felt the same way.

His feelings had worsened. Y/N entirely owned his heart now. Somedays, he'd just go on Instagram, go to her account— her username memorized by him— and stare at her photos until he grew tired; he'd never get tired of looking at her beautiful face but his stiff body afterwards begged to differ. She was just so Elysian. He longed for the moment when he could meet her in real life.

His personality had also changed majorly, and people had caught on. Especially his Marvel co-stars, who knew him to be introverted, shy and, in Anthony Mackie's words, "boring". They were surprised at his sudden change in attitude; he knew his worth and Y/N had helped tremendously in finding it. Now, all those adjectives that she used in her fanfictions fit him perfectly.

Sebastian was never tempted to read fanfictions about himself from authors other than Y/N. No, he only loved her work. He was sure no one else could write as beautifully as she did, he was her #1 fan. Y/N even sent him funny Marvel memes she found on the app and he used to enjoy them heartily; God, the others have no idea what they're missing out on. Our fans are awesome.

Everything was going well.

Until one day.

Sebastian was getting bored at home, so he decided to go to the nearby library to clear his mind. He had read not one book in the past few months, hung up on Y/N's fanfictions. At this point, he was obsessed with her and he knew it. It was nothing dark, per se, it was— it was similar to how Y/N was attracted to Sebastian. How she was a fan of his work.

Just the same. He was a fan of her work in the same way. Just how she was attracted to him, he was attracted to her. Walking into the library that he visited often, he gave the librarian a smile and ventured further into the dark place. He checked his watch; the library closed at 12 am, it was currently 9:30 pm.

Not many people were around, heck, nobody was around. He thought himself to be all alone until he heard it. A sigh, coming from a few aisles away. He walked in that direction and peeked around the corner, freezing when he saw the other person. Y/N? Her books were strewn all across the table as she sat alone at the booth, rubbing her temples.

"You okay?"

She looked up and her breath caught in her throat. I'm dreaming. This is not real. Now I know for a fact that Sebastian Stan is not standing in front of me, asking me if I'm— "Hello?" He snapped his fingers in front of her face, pulling her out of her thoughts. "I, uh— I'm— h-hi," she stammered and he almost chuckled. "Hi." She gulped visibly and blinked at the table, not meeting his eyes.

"Can I have a seat?" He wants to sit with me?! "Y-Yes, sure, sir," she blurted out and he easily slid into the booth next to her. "Hey, please, call me Sebastian. What's your name?" He gave her a friendly smile, even though all he wanted to do was push her back into the booth and kiss her wildly. His shaft twitched just by thinking about it; Y/N was a thousand times more beautiful in person.

"I'm Y/N, it's very nice to meet you, I'm… I'm a fan," she admitted, playing with the ring she wore on her left thumb. I'm your fan too, sweetheart, the biggest one. "Y/N, nice name. You come here often? I haven't really seen you around." She shook her head. "Oh no no, I moved to this part of the city just a week ago, this is my first time here. The library is cozy," she shrugged, easing out of her tense position.

Sebastian nodded. "Yes, I know, this place is awesome. Got all my favorite books here," he chuckled and she smiled at him. "What's all this?" A groan left her lips. "Ugh, stupid university work. I have to write a book report but I don't even know what to write about." He smiled gently. "Well, I have a few favorite books, would you like some suggestions?"

"Oh, please! Tell me!"

He started listing some of his favorite works and Y/N noted the names down until he said the last name. At that, she froze. That's the name of my latest— She looked up but he had a smile on his face. "Oh, and the last one is by my favorite author." He took a pause. "Y/N Y/L/N." She froze completely, staring at the man with her jaw dropped.

Sebastian grinned. "We finally meet, Y/N, I've been waiting for months." Her mouth opened and closed several times as she recalled every interaction she had had with her online best friend— scratch that— her celebrity crush. All the times she had confessed her love for Sebastian Stan, all the dirty and inappropriate memes that she'd sent him…

Embarrassment flooded her entire body as she exhaled shakily. "It was you," she croaked out, "On Tumblr, the account— I'm so sorry—" Sebastian frowned in confusion when she blinked back sudden tears, a few still rolling down her cheeks as shame replaced embarrassment. "Y/N, please don't cry…" She looked up at him, his figure blurry due to her tears.

"You've read everything, haven't you? I just— I'm sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable—" He pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. Y/N couldn't hug back, though she appreciated the hug especially since it came from him. "You don't know how much you mean to me, doll," he mumbled into her shoulder, using the nickname she often used in the stories she wrote about him. He grew accustomed to it easily.

"Huh?"

He pulled away to wipe her tears. "It was an accident," he admitted, "But I stumbled onto your Instagram account from my explore page. Then I clicked on your account, saw that you wrote Marvel fanfictions and I just couldn't resist the urge to read what you had written. Blame it on 3 am me, to be honest. You're a great writer, and I was immediately drawn to your works. They're awesome.

"They've helped me so much in the past few months. You see this changed attitude that everyone's been talking about lately? All because of you, sweetheart. I'm sorry for keeping my identity secret, but after reading your works, I knew I had to get closer to you. I made the Tumblr account just for you, just so I could talk to you. I'm sorry for lying, but thank you."

Y/N dumbfoundedly stared at him for a few moments, her heart beat getting steady with each thump. Here was a man she admired, loved more than anyone else in the world, telling her that he harbored the same feelings for her. How crazy was that?! Not trusting her words, she simply pulled him into another hug. Sebastian wrapped his arms tight around her, pulling her flush against him.

"Can I kiss you, doll?"

She slowly pulled away from him and nodded, shyly biting her lip. Grinning at the endearing gesture, Sebastian cupped her face and leaned in, gently pressing his lips to hers. The kiss grew hungry in a matter of seconds, and Y/N responded just as eagerly. His hands slid down to her waist and tugged on it, pulling her on his lap. She straddled his thighs as they continued kissing.

"Fuck," he groaned when they finally pulled away from each other, out of breath and panting. "You see what you do to me, doll?" Sebastian spoke huskily as he took her hand, placing it right on top of the tent that was forming in his pants. "Oh," Y/N whimpered when she felt him, the sound going straight to his shaft. "How about I take you home and we recreate some of the scenes from your stories, hm?"

"O-Okay."

"Good girl."

---

A/N: What a meta experience 🤡 Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

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in-tua-deep · 3 years

Note

Are you into my hero academia? What about an AU or crossover with tua?

UHHHH I am technically, like, peripherally? I watched some seasons of the show like two or three years ago and since then have simply absorbed all content through osmosis, reading fanfiction that has canon events, and my sister telling me about the arcs of her fav characters lmao

so a crossover hmmm

First of all you'd have to like, establish whether bnha is an alternate universe or just The Future If No Apocalypse with quirks being traced back to the descendants of the kids born without mothers

So let's say it's that - the glowing baby was the "first quirk" but the truth is people had powers before that. But - well, the Umbrella Academy was obviously a marketing gimmick to those in the future! There were even comics based on them

In the future, you might find some of those comics in museum exhibits dedicated to depictions of powers in the pre-quirk era, but they're just fun depictions and much less popular than, oh, DC or MCU comics which are also in the exhibits!

End of s2 doesn't happen I guess in this au?? No sparrow academy at least lmao. So, the Umbrella Academy stop the apocalypse (again) and the Commission threat is? Neutralized? Whatever. They decide to jump back to the future

Five warns them that time travel is a crapshoot, that he has no fucking idea when they'll land beyond some nebulous "future" because Five can at least control the direction if not exactly how long

Also, Five is like. Super tired. Incredibly tired. Homeboy still has a healing gut wound, time traveled twice, has been jumping all over the place, gotten even more injured, experienced paradox psychosis, and managed to undo time all in the space of like, two weeks. There actually more than that but we don't have time to get into how fucking tired Five is from his ~Month of Hell

Like genuinely this is like putting someone almost delirious from lack of sleep in the driver's seat of a car and expecting to get to your destination in one piece

But hey, the siblings are like "do it uwu" and Five has sacrificed everything for them already so why not get behind the wheel again

So Five jumps them, and of course something goes wrong because Five has pushed his powers like a great big rubber band and honestly it was only a matter of time before he lost his grip and it snapped back to hit him

So here be the umbrella academy: spilled out into the future like a cup of bad coffee.

Five probably isn't in too good of shape tbh, like they're hundreds of years in the future (but hey at least confirmation of no apocalypse am I right) in a world full of superpowers and Five is like. bleeding from his ears and nose probably idk

Let's handwave a little bit - Reginald made them all polyglots so the squad all speak varying levels of Japanese. Allison is the best at it, Five is second best but tends to use more archaic words bc he had missions in Japan back when he was with the commission, and Klaus is third best.

(Ben is the worst bc he decided when he was 16-and-dead that he didn't have to do anything regarding lessons and maintenance and hasn't given a shit since - but also he's dead so)

So you have a bunch of weird adults with a bleeding child in like, an alley who have appeared from nowhere

so of course heroes get involved

Anyway, the squad get taken in and Five is conscious but like, barely? And he's not going to let himself get separated from his siblings again fuck-you-officer and there is a lot of confusion

anyway detective tsukauchi ends up getting involved and ends up having to hear this batshit story and be like "...truth." which sends all kinds of people scrambling because fucking time travel? Like yeah, it's been theorized to be a possible quirk but there's no recorded cases of any sort of time travel that is for more than 24 hours let alone hundreds of years

"I'm an adult." Five says sourly, "I just happened to be returned to my 13 year old body when I time traveled one time."

"True." Tsukauchi says, feeling his soul leave his body, but like. absently. the way he does when he's called in at 2am after getting off of work at midnight.

"I'm 58." Five says.

"Lie." Tsukauchi says, because this is a headcanon hill I will die on.

"I'm probably 58, but it was hard to keep track. I'm at least 50." Five corrects.

"True." Tsukauchi sighs like these six (seven? they keep referring to another sibling and Klaus said 'ghost' like that was fine and it registered as true and Tsukauchi is not nearly paid enough for this) are not giving him a migraine by just existing

on the bright side there's like, probably protocols in place for individuals who are Legally Chronologically Adults but thanks to quirks are Not Physically Or Not Mentally Adults with tests to determine if the individual needs a guardian or not

though i'm gonna be honest idk if Five would pass the test bc he literally cannot take care of himself at all, has never paid taxes or understands how to exist legally, and also his emotional maturity is stunted as all hell. also like. we don't actually know how much being in his thirteen-year-old body affects his mental state but yeAH Five is vibing

anyway Tsukauchi probably phones a friend on this bullshit because Time Travel Child alone is probably enough for the Hero Commission to be like "find a way to control and use it or nuke it from orbit" and that's not even touching whatever the fuck Klaus is doing (shit gets real once 'dead men tell no tales' stops being true) let ALONE Allison's whole deal

on the bright side like, at least Vanya isn't getting side-eyed that much bc Big Destructive Quirks aren't exactly unknown? if vanya wanted to i guess quirk suppressors exist for that until extensive training on how to control a super powerful quirk happens

Tsukauchi in the group chat: Aizawa please I am literally begging you to take this bullshit on

Aizawa: in this economy? with my class?

RatGod: lol we'll take them ;3c

Aizawa: no

Anyway they probably end up having to live at UA while Five insists on trying to get them home still and everyone else is like "oh hey we used to be child soldiers as well! (:" and Aizawa is like "i hate everything about this and everything about all of you but also like nedzu is making me interact with you so :/"

nedzu is out here vibing like "lol i just don't want the hero commission to get their little paws on these time traveling fuckers, i think you should make then teaching assistants or something"

honestly the siblings are probably like. figuring out how to function in the bnha universe and getting like, legally registered and stuff while Five ferally refuses bc that's like saying he's giving up on getting them home and he can do this

Recovery girl tries to heal him a little when he arrives and he passes out for two weeks like, immediately bc homeboy is running on fumes and spite at this point

also i think on principle it would be REALLY FUNNY if the squad got to tag along with the class bc like. Five is thirteen and the class are all 15. this does not sound like a large age gap. anyone who has interacted with teenagers know that the class would squint at Five and be like "who is this sassy lost middle schooler."

I feel like when I was a sophomore we were still like "freshman... babie" even though we were literally only one year older.

i think the difference between the umbrella academy and school kids would be pretty funny like. objectively the bnha kids are lowkey child soldiers?? like they're 15 and fighting villains but like, there's all this red tape and laws and stuff but,,, deku still be breaking his limbs in a child fighting ring against equally superpowered children for like. entertainment and sponsorships sooo

but also like Five would be like "oh cool when is the experimentation class"

"the what"

"you know, when your powers are pushed real hard by putting you in different terrible situations while your dad and sibling stand by with clipboards writing down the exact voltage it takes before you can't use your powers anymore when being electrocuted"

"hound dog's office is right there. therapy is available to you at any time. i need you to know this."

all might calls Luther "my boy" like one (1) time and Luther just breaks down crying probably because he is starved for positive attention

klaus and midnight get along like a literal house on fire, aizawa tried his best to keep them apart for as long as possible but god damn

(klaus: your name is shimura nana??

all might: immediately dies choking on blood)

i feel it absolutely necessary to point out that aizawa, present mic, and midnight are all like, 30? and the umbrella academy are all between 29-early 30s? they are PEERS but like. the umbrella academy are more chaotic due to childhood trauma

the umbrella academy probably get offered to like. also train to be heroes. i mean,, there HAS to be some sort of track for people who change careers right?? you don't have to cement your future as a hero when you're 15 i'm sure there must be something and the squad already have experience if they want to go be legal heroes

diego probably does at least?? diego just vibes honestly. diego gets momo to make knives during a team exercise and they just go feral on everyone else and it ends with diego highfiving momo and someone getting way to close to being stabbed for comfort

Five might just be. legally enrolled as an Actual Student? But also i think it's funny to picture the entire squad just. all in the back of the classroom with luther trying to fit into a high school desk as they take notes on the laws of The Future surrounding heroics

every word out of the umbrella academy's mouths just make everyone more concerned on principal but like, five and klaus are probably the worst offenders. Klaus just says whatever comes to mind with no filter and Five doesn't get what people would consider to be abnormal anymore like

Five: yeah our dad bought us when we were babies and experimented on us throughout our childhood in order to make an elite team of child soldiers superheroes, it happens

Todoroki: ...have you heard of quirk marriages?

izuku probably has an aneurism bc he's is the only person who might recognize them from the comics because you know ya boy extensively researched the idea of heroics in pre-quirk eras (batman was an inspiration alright???) and might dredge up a memory of a less popular comic series

Five: I can time travel but it is very hard, which is why we are hundreds of years in the future. And why I look like a child.

Kaminari: so are you a kid or not?

Five, serenely: whatever is most convenient for me at any given moment

Mina: hell yeah game the system

they have a brief lesson on astronomy and Luther raises his hand like "ooh! i was isolated on the moon for four years and did SO MUCH research" and then just gets up and starts infodumping like way too much information on the moon

Izuku sitting there like "damn if quirks hadn't popped up we could have achieved so much in terms of space travel. please tell me more giant man who lived in pre-quirk era."

Vanya finds out about the quirkless and is like "oh mood that genuinely sounds like my childhood, being ordinary in a house full of extraordinary people, and then i found out that i did have powers but only much later in life after i had already been emotionally scarred by the experience"

deku: vanya we have so much in common

iida and uraraka: concerned noises

aizawa: hound dog. therapy with hound dog for all of you.

there's probably some conflict with like, the hero commission wanting to get their hands on the time travelers?? but probably especially five and klaus as a) time travel and b) ghosts (the hc def has bodies they would like to stay buried)

five has a pavlovian reaction to anything with 'commission' in the name and hates them on site, probably plays into his age in order to become a ward of UA or something to protect him from the commission a little bit.

(this makes nedzu Five's legal guardian. aizawa has his resignation papers all prepped in a drawer marked 'in case of emergency' but let's be real, if nedzu wants to take over the world aizawa should probably be on the rat-bear's side of things :/)

five: ah, i do recall the inhumane experimentation that we were subjected to

nedzu, who was experimented on: haha same hat! want me to dig up the location of reginald hargreeves's remains so you can spit on them?

klaus: nah no worries we dumped them out in the courtyard unceremoniously like, a while back. how long ago varies for each of us because of time travel!

luther: you said hound dog's office was down the hall and to the right?

on the bright side, Luther probably feels like. way less self conscious about his body, partially bc of his fighting and all that in the 60s but also bc !! now he genuinely doesn't feel like a freak. no one even gives him a second glance. one of the teachers looks like a slab of cement with a face. gang orca looks Like That. there is literally a student with an entire bird head and goth aesthetic. Luther does not stick out at all

allison and shinso bond over having "villainous" voice-based quirks

allison and shinso having worn muzzles at some point in their youth as punishment 🤝

aizawa probably helps train vanya as well with the whole, being able to erase a world ending quirk safely thing he's got going on which makes for a very nice safety net

i don't think vanya would want to be a hero at the end of things though. maybe the assistant teacher in the music class or something?? all vanya wants is to be able to not end the world

i feel like as time goes by, five brings up trying to get home less and less. part of that is because like,,, genuinely what do they have to go back to?? Allison has Claire, but like. I'm 100% sure the first thing she did in the future was try track down Claire's records and found out Claire was like. fine. became an adult, had a family, probably became the ancestor of the first "quirked" kids who officially popped up after light baby. had a good life, died at an old age etc. etc.

they start settling into the bnha world with like, "we can always hop aboard the five express into where the fuck ever" as a plan Z if things go completely pear shaped (again)

i'mma be real, five himself doesn't give a fuck as long as there is a) no apocalypse and b) his family is alive. Like that's it. His bar is so incredibly low and yet his life keeps fucking trying to limbo under it

i just think it would be funny to have like, Five trying to get along with his "peers" and make friends while the siblings do the same but like, in the staff room

also think it would be funny for five to just walk into the staff room and get coffee occasionally.

a teacher: why is a student in here -

Five, sipping coffee: i'm an adult

nedzu like "what kind of guardian would i be if i didn't teach my new son all the tunnels around ua so he can pop out wherever"

five like "hey new dad can i put stashes of supplies all around ua of weapons, money, food, and other assorted things that might be useful if one needed to fight or make a run for it" and nedzu is like "haha just put your list of what supplies you want in your go bags on my desk and i'll critique it later!"

anyway a bnha/tua crossover would be incredibly chaotic but probably very funny

#long post #far tua long #tua bnha crossover #what kind of disaster is this #there are so many characters in bnha to even consider #there is no more apocalypse so five either chills the fuck out or his paranoia ramps up to an eleven #or both!#five teleporting into nedzu's office like: hey i wrote a 52 page potential contingency plan for if x happens #and nedzu is like 'wonderful!' and gives it back to five the next day with corrections and critiques in red ink #klaus ben and ghost!nana get along like a house on fire even if she keeps telling klaus that he's too skinny #ben: klaus is an absolute fucking idiot with zero braincells #nana nodding sagely while looking at all might: ah yes i know the exact type #diego and snipe become absolute bros like ride or die because why not #luther gets positive reinforcement and goes to therapy #also thirteen listens patiently to luther infodumping about space because i think that would be nice #five is either like 'i'm only thirteen uwu' or 'i'm fifty eight' and there is nothing in between - only what is most convenient #i feel like kaminari and mina vibe with five's brand of chaos #iida doesn't know whether to murder five for being a gremlin and disobeying so many rules or to be respectful bc five is technically old #aizawa is SO TIRED y'all #aizawa thinks vanya is going to be the good hargreeves but PSYCHE all the hargreeves are equally chaotic in different ways #five calls nedzu 'dad' for the sole reason that it makes every teacher and/or hero in earshot cringe in automatic fear #klaus also calls nedzu dad because he just thinks it's funny #five and nedzu have similar coping mechanisms so they vibe but nedzu also vibes with klaus's sense of chaotic humor #five gets talked into healthier coping mechanisms by way of 'keeping his cover' or 'preventing the hc from getting their hands on you'#aka five is not allowed to drink alcohol #five HAS gone to midnight and been like 'hey teach knock me the fuck out my brain is working overdrive and i need to not be awake anymore'

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strawberry-jammers · 3 years

Text

One year

a dreamsmp x reader where a young (y/n) wants to rebuild an old old kingdom before they have to be crowned to rule over their parents kingdom. with the help of their friends and a couple of servants, they hope to rebuild it all with out their parent knowing about it.

part one part 2 part 3

part 2/?

masterlist

The lovely @acidicvolt edited this!

this part is just traveling and fluff lmao. it'll pick up in the others <3

this series is so much fun to write, I'm really enjoying it

word count: 2,215

----------

It had reached midnight, the sun long gone and nearly everyone in the castle was asleep, except for three. Karl and Niki made their way to the teens room, which was at the opposite end of the castle.

"Are you sure the king’s asleep? They have been on edge as of late…” Niki said, walking alongside Karl. Karl nods, clutching the bag he always wore.

“Yeah, checked and everything. He's out like a light.”

Niki nods, sighing. “Thank god he sleeps on the other side of the castle. We'd be dead if he found out we were helping his kid like this.”

Karl nods again, looking ahead at where they were going.

In the young teens room, everything was prepared for their expedition. They packed appropriate clothes to sneak around, fight and blend in with. They had food, tools/weapons, along with the letters, money, and the lmanburg page. They were ready and excited to embark on this adventure.

Niki quietly knocks on the door, opening it a crack. Seeing that (y/n) was alone, she walks in, followed by Karl who closes the door behind them. (y/n) sighed, thankful it wasnt Eret.

“So, you know the plan?” they ask.

Niki nods, holding onto her own bag.

"Okay, I'm staying behind to tell the king you two went on a camping trip for the next year or so. Somewhere in the middle of the woods where he can't check in to see where you are." Karl says to the two of them.

"Thank you again Karl for doing that. " (y/n) says, leading Niki to their window. "Niki, you know enough of the plan right?" They asked, grabbing the ladder they had in case they ever needed to escape.

"Yeah. We're heading to Tommy’s castle first right?" She asked, watching as (y/n) opened their window. A soft breeze entered the room.

"Yep! Then we'll try to find Tubbo. Ready?" (y/n) said, hooking the ladder to the window and throwing it out the castle, trying to not make a noise.

(y/n) looked down. It wasn't too high up, but it was still a bit scary. They looked back at the two servants, nodding. “Karl, when we reach the ground, bring the ladder back up and close the window. I'll go first. Again, thank you Karl, see you in a year!” with that, (y/n) climbed out the window onto the ladder. the two servants nodded, Niki going over to the window, watching the teen start to climb down the wobbly ladder.

Once (y/n) got far enough down, they waved their hand for Niki to go after them. Niki smiled over at Karl. “It was nice meeting you, Karl.” she said, making the brunette smile as well. “It was! See you in a year Niki! Take care.” she nodded, grabbing her bag, making sure nothing was left behind. Once she saw everything was in check, she went down, following her new friend.

“Man, I should've worn a thicker sweater.” Niki said, finally reaching the ground. “Yeah, I should've checked before we left. Too late now though.” (y/n) responds, watching as the ladder slowly shrank back up into their room. The two of them waved at Karl, who smiled back at them. “Alright, where to go first? We can't just go straight to the tundra.” Niki said, watching as (y/n) looked around. It was still pretty dark out, so they hoped it wouldn't turn a day before they even left the castle grounds. “Well we need to find some transportation for when we exit the forest. Cant be going thru town, it's too early for that.'' Niki nodded, looking over at the forest. “Got any torches?” (y/n) asked the pinkett. Niki nodded, shuffling into her bag, pulling out an unlit torch and lighter. “Yep, need one?” (y/n) shook their heads. “Only one of us needs one for now, well just gotta stay close together. Let's go, we can't stay here forever.” (y/n) says, chuckling softly. “Of course! Let's go!”

The two of them entered the forest close to the castle, leaving it behind. (y/n) had no regrets, they knew they needed this, even if eret forbid them. Niki was excited, she hadn't gone on an adventure since she was small, so it was a nice change of pace.

“Yknow (y/n), we’ve never actually met properly before this. Only in passing.” she said, stepping over a thick tree root. (y/n) followed, nearly tripping. “Really? I didn't notice. Though, i was held up in my room for awhile there.” they said, looking at all the trees that encased the two of them. No matter how many years go by, they still found nature to be beautiful. “Yeah, I did become one of the king's cooks when you were 16, not too long ago.” she said,pulling a branch up for (y/n) to walk past. “Oh thank you. What were you doing before then? Before you started working for my dad.” Niki thought for a second before answering.

“Well, i was only 18 when he hired me, so i was doing what any kid did at that time. For a while I took up gardening, growing many types of flowers, though they all ended up dying after a while.” she said. (y/n) stopped, noticing the forest was ending. “i did gardening as well when i was young child. Made many flower crowns and such with them.” Niki gasped excitedly at this. “Maybe we can make flower crowns together!! I haven't done it in so long..” (y/n) smiled. ‘Of course we can! We have a whole year after all!” they laughed together, looking out at the forest in front of them. “God I hope your mom doesn't fire me when this is all over…” (y/n) looks over at Niki, giving her a reassuring smile. “Well good thing I'll be the ruler when we get back. You're not getting fired on my watch.” Niki smiled at this. “Thank you (y/n)...should we go now?” (y/n) nodded, looking ahead once more.

The two of them continue to walk, leaving the small forest behind. “Okay, we should be in a farm area. The houses are spaced out so no one should see us. Should take a half hour to an hour to get through. There should be a train station after that. It'll take us to the arctic kingdom." Niki nodded, grabbing some bread from her bag. "Bread?" (Y/n) shook their heads, declining. "I ate before we left. Thanks tho."

They both walked through the field, the torches flame flickering as they walked. There were no monsters around, since there hadn't been any around the area in 100s of years. They were safe.

Niki looked at some of the farmland, noticing they had to walk through some of it. (Y/n) noticed it as well. "How do we get through there? They'll notice someone was here in the morning." (Y/n) said, not completely knowing how to get by. "Got any ender pearls?"

(y/n) thought for a second, looking in their bag for some. “Oh, looks like I do! Got a bag full of ‘em.'' They hand some to Niki, who throws it over the larger field, hoping to get over without touching the wheat. (y/n) followed, both of them successfully getting across the farm.

“I am so glad that worked.” (y/n) said, putting the pearls back in their bag. Niki nodded, sighing. “Is the trans station past those trees?” she asked, pointing towards the small strip of trees not too far ahead of them. “Yeah, behind there's the train station. An old friend of mine runs it. Lets go!”

The two of them basically run across the field, not wanting to waste a second of their time. The sun would rise at any moment, and they really wanted to get out of town before it rose.

They had reached the trees, their original torch being burnt out from all the running. Niki grabbed and lit another, the two of them heading into the small patch of trees to the train station.

The station wasn't too much to brag about, a boring old timey train station was all it was. There was no train in sight, making the (h/c) haired teen sigh. “Damnit, the train might not be here for another several hours.” they said, heading up to the platform. Niki followed, smiling slightly. “Could be worse. Not sure how much worse but it could be worse.”

The two of them sat at a random bench in the area, looking at the map (y/n) had packed.

“So the kingdom is all the way over there, which is about 6 hours by foot. Taking the train would be around the same pass but we wouldn't be out in the open.” (y/n) says, pointing their finger along the route they need to take. “Is there a way to get there any faster?” (y/n) shrugged, looking over the map. “We could either go through the towns and such, or we could get some horses and get there that way. Wouldn't know how to get any of those, they're kinda rare in this area.'' Niki nodded, thinking for a second.

Both of their thoughts were cut off by someone's cheery voice. “Hello! It's been a long time, hasn't it (y/n)?” They looked over to see their old friend, Jack Manifold, approaching the two of them. (y/n) smiled, standing up and walking over to the said man. “Eyyyy Manifold! Good to see ya!” The two of them hug, separating soon after. (y/n) looked over at Niki. “Hey, have you met Niki?” Niki smiled, putting the map in her bag, standing up as well. “Indeed i have! To be fair, it was a brief interaction. “Nice to see ya, Niki.”

She nodded. “Nice to see you too, Jack.” (y/n) smiled, looking back over at Jack.

"Jack, we need to get to the arctic kingdom, do you know when the trains coming back?" They asked the slightly smarter man. He nodded. "Won't be coming back till noon today. I'm just here because I forgot something." (Y/n) looked up at the sky. It was getting lighter out. They sighed, looking back down at Jack. "We can't wait that long. Know any other way to get out of town fast?"

"Well, I could lend you my horse. Most of the time he just sits here and cry's." I looked at Niki, who seemed to be pleased with the offer. "Mind if we take him? We'll return him at some point obviously." Jack nodded, starting to go around the train station. "I'll be in the arctic kingdom a day or so from now, so you can return him then!" We follow Jack behind the station, where his horse sat tied up while eating some grass.

"His name is thunder, good lad. Constantly sad tho." Jack unties the reins from the pole, handing them to Niki. "Say, what's your trip for anyway?" Jack asked the two of them. (Y/n) answered. "We're going to see prince Tommy to recruit him to a project we're working on. Top secret stuff man." Jack nodded. "Seems fun. Might join you if I feel like it. Well, have fun you two." They nodded, Niki getting onto the horse and bringing him to the front of the station. "Oh, by the way. You can't tell anyone I was here, at least for the reason I am here. I know I've asked for a lot but if anyone asked, can you tell them I went camping somewhere in the woods?"

Jack nodded, smiling at the teen. "It's fine, secret adventures are cool anyway. I'll keep your secret, now grab your stuff and have fun on your journey." They smiled, hugging the male. "Thanks Jack, I'll repay you eventually." They say while letting go of their friend.

He nodded. "Anytime (y/n). Now go, Niki’s waiting." They nodded, running off to the front of the station. They spotted Niki on thunder, who held all our bags. I looked up at her. "You know how to ride a horse?" They asked, trying to get up onto the horse. Niki giggled, helping them up. "Yeah, I was taught when I was younger. Come on, gotta get out of here before the sun rises right?" (Y/n) smiled, latching onto Niki lightly, so as to not fall off.

"Yeah, lets go!" They took off, running along the tracks. The sun rose as they went, turning the sky into a pinkish color.

Niki slowed the horse down a bit, staring at the beautiful sky. "I love the sunrise…" (y/n) hummed in agreement, resting their head on Niki’s shoulder.

"I haven't seen it in awhile. Always amazes me." Niki nodded, smiling softly. "Should we continue or just watch the sunrise?" (Y/n) chuckled, lifting their head off the woman's shoulder. "We should go. Maybe we could watch the sunrise tomorrow.

Niki nodded, returning the horse to his original pace.

They left towards a small path in the forest, leaving towards the arctic kingdom where they'll hopefully find the first person they need to reach.

Hopefully.

-----

series tag list, ask if you wanna be added!

@xx-smiley-xx

#mcyt x reader #dreamsmp x reader #niki nihachu x reader #jack manifold x reader #karl jacobs x reader #royal au #sbi au #niki nihachu x you #niki nihachu x y/n #jack manifold x you #jack manifold x y/n #karl jacobs x you #karl jacobs x y/n #tommyinnit x reader #eret x reader #wilbur soot x reader #Dsmp Royal Au #One Year fic

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makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 294: A Half-Assed Escape

Previously on BnHA: Mirio was all “SURPRISE I’M BACK THANKS TO OUR RESIDENT SEVEN-YEAR-OLD WHO RECENTLY EARNED HER BACHELOR’S OF BEING A TOTAL BADASS.” Kacchan was all, “you know what, Dabi’s been trending long enough, time to remind the fandom what a real G looks like,” and he blasted his little bleeding body back into the fray and was all “FROM HERE ON OUT CALL ME DYNAMIGHT!!” Mirio was all, “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA... oh, you’re serious,” and Kacchan was all “!!”, and so that’s the story of how my son got murdered twice in one day. Meanwhile in the Todoroki Drama Zone, Deku was all “STOP MURDERING MY FRIEND” and Dabi was all “THAT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS” and fandom had a whole big debate about Whether Or Not Dabi Trying To Murder Deku’s Friends And Mentors Is Any Of Deku’s Business, which went exactly how you think it went. Anyway, so then Deku yelled at Dabi, and Endeavor was all moved by his manly words and randomly went to go uppercut Machia in the chin. And, seeing as how the Momoserum finally chose that exact moment to kick in, Machia is now down for the count.

Today on BnHA: The Miriosquad handles the Nearly High End Noumus, freeing up Jeanist to jasphyxiate (okay that one doesn’t really work so well) the rest of the League. Compress is all “TIME FOR THIS MILD-MANNERED SIDE CHARACTER VILLAIN TO SHINE”, except that by “shine” what he actually means is “use his quirk to punch a literal hole right through his own ass to free himself.” The rest of the chapter is basically just a back and forth between him and Jeanist, with Jeanist trying to recapture him, and Compress repeatedly thwarting him by chopping more holes out of himself because HE’S FRESH OUT OF FUCKS, AND THE ONES AT THE STORE ARE ALL SOLD OUT, MOTHERFUCKERS. Anyway, so with Compress basically dying and all, Horikoshi is all “you know what that means”, and delivers a freshly-baked villain flashback revealing that Compress is a descendant of Harima Ouji, a.k.a. the Peerless Thief, a.k.a. some famous guy whom Gentle mentioned this one time for like two seconds back in the day. The chapter ends with Compress finally demasking himself and dumping Tomura back onto the ground, a.k.a. The Worst Possible Place For Tomura To Be. ( •﹏•)

WHY IS CRUST HERE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD

-- OH WAIT, SHIT. OH

AIZAWAAAA you’re alive and receiving medical help thank GOD. HOW MANY EYES DO YOU HAVE. AND MIRKO!! HOW MANY LIMBS DO YOU HAVE, OMG

so is this Aizawa dreaming about Crust’s final moments, then?? jesus. with All Due Respect to Crust’s memory, does Aizawa not already have enough misplaced guilt on his conscience as it is?? “nope, we’re gonna keep piling it on. that’s all he is now. three limbs, an indeterminate number of eyes, sexy hair, and Guilt” well shit

motherfucker y’all really out here placing an oxygen mask on Gran Torino’s corpse. fucking shounen characters. each one comes with a lifetime warranty

DAMN YOU HORIKOSHI WHY DO YOU KEEP SHOWING THESE CLOSE-UPS OF HAWKS’S UNCONSCIOUS FACE ALL WHUMPED OUT AND EXHAUSTED. HOW MUCH MORE OF THIS ARE WE GOING TO GET. ARE YOU PLANNING ON KILLING ME WITH THE UPCOMING CONVALESCENCE ARC, BECAUSE IF SO, AT LEAST HAVE THE DECENCY TO TELL ME AHEAD OF TIME SO I CAN MAKE A WILL

for a moment I considered going back and checking my previous recaps to count how many times I’ve already made a joke about Dabi’s fire incinerating Hawks’s wings but not touching so much as a hair on his five o’clock shadow, so that I could calculate whether or not I could possibly get away with making that same joke one more time. but then I realized I could just do it in this kind of roundabout way I’m doing right now instead. so there you have it

FFFFFFFMT LADY AND MIDNIGHT NOOOOO

PLEASE BE ALIVE. PLEASE RESPECT THE SIGN ON THE FRONT OF THE BUILDING. THE ONE THAT SAYS “NO LADY CHARACTERS ALLOWED TO DIE”, WITH THE FINE PRINT AT THE BOTTOM “AT LEAST NOT UNTIL HORIKOSHI GIVES US LIKE TWENTY-SIX MORE OF THEM FIRST IF THAT’S THE WAY HE WANTS TO PLAY IT.” IT’S A GOOD SIGN, PLEASE RESPECT ITS WISHES!!

so anyway though, Jeanist is giving a speech about how god knows how many people all worked together to bring Machia down. and now RHA is getting in on those fabric puns too, I see. “A SINGLE STRAND MAY BE THIN BUT TOGETHER THEY FORM A STRONG ROPE” oh so you think you guys are funny eh? I’m a frayed knot

MEANWHILE EXCUSE ME BUT WHY ARE YOU FUCKING CRYING BLOOD, HOLY SHIT

fffffff. so much for him taking over as the Number One once all this is over. so let’s just recap real quick, because Horikoshi has long since made it clear that one of his plot goals for this arc is to wipe out every single member of the Billboard Top Ten. so how we doin?

Endeavor - was just figuratively eviscerated in front of the entire nation by his homicidal zombiepunk son. also burnt half to death and possibly down a lung. will almost certainly be forced to retire after this one way or the other

Hawks - lying prettily in a medical tent. wings status: gone. hair status: still perfect

Jeanist - WELL I THOUGHT HE WAS FINE BUT APPARENTLY HE’S OUT HERE DYING, JESUS CHRIST

Edgeshot - MIA, last seen fighting Re-Destro. I really want him to have kicked RD’s ass because fuck that guy, but realistically they probably fought to a draw at best

Mirko - alive but in critical condition and missing something like 1.5 limbs

Crust - dead, currently haunting Aizawa’s traumatized dreams. now he’s gonna be triggered the rest of his life by people giving him the thumbs up, THANKS A LOT

Kamui Woods - was set on fire which is His Weakness. thoughts and prayers

Wash - last seen floating hospital patients to safety as Tomura’s wave of decay descended towards him. probably dead ffff

Old Man Samurai - haven’t seen this fucker in a hot minute, who even knows where he’s wandered off to

Ryuukyuu - currently being treated for her wounds, looked pretty bad off. but it’s hard to tell how hurt she is since most of the injuries were acquired in her transformed state. SHE BETTER GET WELL SOON

anyways, so yeah. so much for the top ten. guess that’s another reason Horikoshi brought Mirio back now, huh

so there’s a big panel of everyone fighting the Noumu while Machia lies there all “blurgh.” good riddance my dude. it took like twenty chapters and a hundred people to stop this guy so I really fucking hope he stays down. you’ve had your fun

anyway so Jeanist is sending another steel thread towards Dabi! and he’s all “just a bit more!!” fklklj this is gonna go real well isn’t it

meanwhile Mirio’s fighting a Nearly High End with all of these weird rock formations jutting out of its skin. go on and kick his ass then, Mirio

“each of these guys is probably just as strong as the Noumu from Kyuushuu” hold on I thought Ujiko or Tomura or someone said that wasn’t the case? not that Mirio would know I suppose. anyways let’s just hope he’s wrong cuz if not these kids are probably screwed

kLSDKFHLSKHGLKLK OH MY GODDDD

IIDA FUCKING TENYA YOU’RE A PEACH. THINKS THE NAME IS OUTRAGEOUS, CHECK. USES IT ANYWAY, CHECK. “JUST BECAUSE I DON’T UNDERSTAND DOESN’T MEAN I CAN’T BE SUPPORTIVE.” WHAT A CLASS ACT

AND KACCHAN IS RESPONDING WITH AS MUCH DIGNITY AS HE CAN MUSTER

WOW, SON. IT’S ALMOST AS THOUGH YOU HAVE A HOLE IN YOUR TORSO, OR SOMETHING!! although listen up, real talk, the fact that Kacchan of all people can’t muster the energy to yell at someone questioning his ability to kick ass is HIGHKEY troubling and we may be in need of an intervention here soon :/

now Jeanist is finally turning his attention to the League! was... was it not already on the League. omg

ACTUAL SCREAMING AHHHHHH FUCK FUCKLK LK AHHLKHKFFFF

hey so um. what the actual fucked up hell. my soul left my body. imagine if you saw the reflection of this panel on your bedroom window. you would never sleep again

OKAY RHA TRANSLATORS ARE YOU HAVING YOURSELF A LAUGH AGAIN

THIS CANNOT BE WHAT HE’S ACTUALLY SAYING RIGHT. BUT IT’S RIGHT IN THAT UNCANNY VALLEY OF NOT BEING QUITE SURE, THOUGH... (　ﾟдﾟ)

(ETA: just a next-day clarification here, apparently my sleep-deprived ADHD word-skipping brain completely skipped right over the “a” in that last panel, so what I read was, “and Shigaraki’s limp noodle.” so yeah, the moral of this story is always read the speech bubble carefully before you start making running jokes throughout the rest of your post, folks.)

oh wow he’s really freaking out lmao

to be fair though, I’d argue that Dabi has gotten pre-tty close at this point :’) thrilled for him, really I am

but anyway, well then figure something out you big dramatic robot-armed fiend. didn’t you just say you could touch your own ass? can you not just Compress yourself to break free?? does it not work on you? or would you be stuck afterwards lol

(ETA: I was picturing him compressing his entire body at once, not just chunks of it. ghhhlkh.)

holy shit Jeanist. are you stupidly trying to cut off their air, or are you going for more of a sleeper hold (jleeper hold??) thing instead. the latter would be way smarter and faster and probably safer as well just saying

but unless Spinner is just being super dramatic, it sure looks like he’s fucking strangling them djslkjlk. this will certainly cement his popularity among the villain stans. good thing you’re not running for office any time soon bud

anyway so I have no idea what these guys are trying to do now. what is this

do you even have till the count of 5 at this rate. I mean

OH MY GOODNESS

HE’S REALLY FUCKING DOING IT!! HE’S COMPRESSING HIS BUTT!! OMFG. TOMURA HIDE YOUR NOODLE!!!

WHAT THE FUCK

DID YOU COMPRESS A PIECE OF YOUR OWN ASS. FUCKING WHAT. PUT THIS MAN’S PICTURE IN THE DICTIONARY NEXT TO THE WORD “LOYALTY”, HOLY CRAP

HOLY SHIT COMPRESS

“HOLY SHIT DID THAT GUY JUST PUNCH A HOLE THROUGH HIS OWN ASS IN ORDER TO SAVE HIS VILLAIN PALS. FUCK IT, HE DESERVES TO ESCAPE”

jeez, talk about... A HALF-ASSED ESCAPE ATTEMPT :D :D :D hahaha. but real talk though, Horikoshi has clearly never tried to leap twelve feet straight up in the air multiple times in succession with only half his glutes though. everyone, I regret to inform you that this panel right here on the left may be slightly unrealistic

also where the hell is he going to go?? did you pack a jetpack away in one of those little marbles sir. and what about Dabi?? and Skeptic too, I guess, but we don’t really care about Skeptic

(ETA: at this point I had to stop reading for about two hours because I had to go out and take care of something; that’s also why this is being posted later than usual lol. anyways so where were we.)

oh my lord

the existence of a translator’s note here implies that the earlier line about Compress being able to reach Tomura’s junk was not, in fact, ad-libbed. hmm. hmmmmmmmm

anyway so now he’s grabbing Compress again because OF COURSE HE IS, so now we’re right back to square one! except now Tomura and Spinner are secured inside of little marbles, and presumably Compress is the only one who can release them

oh nevermind he’s just maiming himself again instead, SHEESH

Skeptic a man is dying please have some goddamn respect

so, uh. is he gonna die, though??

I really can’t tell wtf is going on here, this is the most confusing the art has been in a while. Horikoshi put all of his spoons into that creepyass close-up panel earlier, that bastard

OMG WHAT ARE YOU SERIOUS

DON’T FUCKING TELL ME THE “COMPRESS IS RELATED TO THIS THIEF GUY FROM OLDEN TIMES” THEORY IS ACTUALLY TRUE WHAAAAAAT. OH SHIT

so apparently Harima was a Robin Hood type guy who stole from... heroes?? wtf. are heroes the 1% in this scenario. y’all didn’t have any Fortune 500 CEOs to steal from?

THAT’S THE BLOOD THAT FLOWS THROUGH YOU, OH SHIT. and in a related oh shit, the fact that we are getting a Compress flashback now of all times doesn’t bode super well for him. ffff

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKIS ARE STILL TODOROKI-ING

listen here boy if you touch one freaking hair on Shouto’s candy cane head I swear to god --

WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY!!!

SHOUTO NOOOOOO. WTF YOU’RE LITERALLY THE ONE GUY WHOSE WEAKNESS IS ABSOLUTELY NOT SUPPOSED TO BE FIRE. DABI YOU SHIT, YOU BETTER WATCH YOURSELF!! I’M PRINTING OUT A COPY OF THAT COMPRESS PANEL!!! KEEP AN EYE OUT ON THAT BEDROOM WINDOW YOU PUNK!!!

SO NOW POOR SHOUTO IS UNCONSCIOUS AND FALLING!! SOMEONE SAVE HIM!! WHO CATCHES THE CATCHER

COMPRESS LITERALLY HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE RIGHT NOW, WHAT IS HAPPENING

PLEASE DON’T CALL TOMURA LEADER OF THE “PLF” YOU KNOW I CAN’T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY WHEN YOU DO THAT. ARE YOU DYING. ARE YOU JUST A FUCKING HEAD NOW WTF

(ETA: “masks are removable, makeste” you know what it’s been a long day okay lmao. or I suppose Compress is really the one who is lmao.)

GASPPPPPP

okay. okay. looooool okay then

WHY WERE YOU COVERING THIS SEXY MOP OF HAIR UNDER THAT HOOD YOU TOOL. IT WOULD HAVE LOOKED SO GOOD WITH THE TOP HAT. I’M SO MAD AT YOU RIGHT NOW

as if it wasn’t enough for him to demask himself, he also had to get all shirtless and then do this weird attempt at a sexypose too huh

hard to say exactly how much of his torso is currently missing, but safe to say that’s proooooooobably not good. :///// fuck

on the other hand, Kacchan also has a torso hole and he’s still flying around like he just drank a dozen red bulls, so

this man lost his ass and he’s still out here monologuing like it’s the last two minutes of The Prestige. one might say he is monologuing his ass off

so he let Spinner and Tomura free, but is Dabi still trapped in his marble?? wasn’t he all on fire and stuff?? hopefully he can still turn off his quirk in there because if not that’s a pretty fucked up way to die. somewhere out there Snatch’s ghost is all “YEAH I’LL SAY.” oh how the turntables

last but not least, sooooooo. Tomura. back on the ground. that’s. um. ...shiiiiiiiit

#bnha 294 #mr. compress #...and actually that's pretty much it lol #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #sorry this is up later than usual (and mostly unedited as well)#just one of those days

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fantasticfemmefatale · 3 years

Text

Cold- Spencer Reid

not my gif

SUMMARY: reader is kinda bad at dealing with cold weather lmao, Spencer is rlly sweet, and everyone is happy for once in their trauma-filled lives. i live for this man. there’s some slight emily x reader if you use a microscope, i guess.

WARNINGS: fluff, canon atypical happiness, there’s this one homophobe in it, they should burn

Cold.

It was cold.

Had you left a window open?

No, the window on your side of the bed was still firmly shut.

Why was it so cold?

You rolled over, on the couch, eyes screwed shut, half desperate for his warmth although you’d promised you’d give him space, after you were nearly on top of him when you two woke up last time.

Oh.

That’s why it was cold.

Sliding out of bed and grabbing your fuzzy robe off the floor, you somehow managed to make it out of the room while only tripping once. You wanted to laugh at him, tell him depressed elephant who? I am graceful after all, loser! However, gloating in his face required having his face nearby.

Where was he?

You thought back to those crappy stories you’d heard from Emily of sleazy guys in bars who’d scramble for a hook up then leave a girl high and dry before sunrise. But he couldn’t do that if you hadn’t hooked up, right? If he was just a friend who’d come knocking at your door at 8:43 for your biweekly movie night, then got stuck at your apartment because of the storm? Although, you wished he was more than a friend.

A sharp hiss resounded from the kitchen, followed by the faucet running, as you padded in.

“Spence?”

His head shot up fast, like a puppy caught dragging trash through the house. He shut off the faucet with his right hand, and reached for a towel to dry his left as he spoke.

“(Y/N). Hi. Hotch called me saying we had a case, and I told him you were here with me so he didn’t need to call you, and I just thought I’d make you coffee before I woke you up,” he explained with a small, tired smile and equally tired eyes.

“Did you burn yourself?” you questioned, remembering the commotion when you’d walked in.

“Uh, yeah.”

You laughed slightly, one of those sharp nose exhales accompanied by a half smile when you just can’t laugh at the moment. Frankly, you were far too exhausted. You took the mug he was holding outstretched towards you with a grateful smile, returning to your room to get dressed. The warm mug contrasted deliciously with the cold air of your apartment. You didn’t need to tell Spencer that he could change in the bathroom if he needed to; he already knew. After the first time you’d been called in to work while Spencer was staying over, you’d developed a system. He brought his go-bag over with him, leaving it next to the door along with his Converse that you always said made him look like he was still 12. He’d bring two extra pairs of clothes to leave at your apartment, one for when you left and another, comfier pair for your return. Then, he’d gather anything he’d left in your apartment and walk down to his own. It was funny, honestly, how his apartment was just three floors down from your own and yet he refused to leave his stuff there. He’d ramble on about how but leaving my stuff at your apartment saves 9 minutes and 27 seconds, and that’s time we could be spending saving lives, and-

You left your room, dressed in black skinny jeans, combat boots, and an army green long sleeve with the sleeves pushed up to your elbows at the same time Spencer exited the bathroom in Converse, brown pants, a vest, and a button-down shirt. No words were spoken as you two grabbed your duffels from where they were sitting near your door, and Spencer grabbed his messenger bag as well, slinging it over his shoulder in the most uncoordinated way possible while simultaneously trying to open your door, resulting in him on the floor with a loud grunt. You laughed, loud and clear, and you grabbed his wrist and helped him to his feet, opening the door and locking it securely behind you.

The bullpen was colder than your apartment had been, you thought with a shiver as you walked in, with Spencer falling into step behind you. Still slightly groggy and nursing the coffee from Spencer- which you’d transferred to an insulated water bottle prior to leaving- you stayed quiet through Penelope’s run-down of the case and Hotch’s typical wheels up in 30.

On the plane, you sat on the couch with Spencer, careful to leave an inch between you two. In the two years you’d known each other, he’d warmed up enough that you could touch him some, but you tried not to do anything more than the occasional hug or shoulder pat when the time called for it. Right now, nothing was calling except sleep. Just by looking outside the window, you swore you could practically feel the frigid night air of Wisconsin, the lovely location of today’s deranged criminal, a kidnapper. When you voiced your feelings about the cold to Spencer, he spewed facts from who-knows-where about different places the air could possibly get into the plane, meaning you weren’t just making up the feeling. You listened attentively, knowing how much it meant to him when he didn’t get cut off for once. After all, he just wanted to help.

The plane landed, and you were the first one out.

Cold.

It was cold.

And you forgot a jacket, idiot.

Morgan chuckled as he passed by you, clad in a t-shirt, no less, saying, “Cold, baby?”

“As if.”

You were in an interrogation room.

It was less cold than the rest of the precinct, but still chilly.

The woman in front of you, a blond, small thing, looked to be no less than 20. And yet, she was kidnapping the children she babysat for after their parents returned, then trying to pass them off as her own. She was kidnapping the children of same-sex couples, a religious fanatic who believed that being anything but straight was worse than murder. Wow.

Screw homophobes.

Honestly, the case had wrapped itself up fairly well, complete with a glittery red bow, once Penelope- thank god- had figured out that each family had used the same babysitter at least once. Rebecca Umbrige. To be fair, the team had spent a while focusing on the same-sex couples aspect of it, only to change paths after all that turned up from that was dead ends. Then Rebecca came into the picture and brought everything together nicely.

With that red bow, of course.

Still, one more thing was needed.

A confession.

Emily was in the interrogation room with you, watching as you took the lead. You were hoping to get something out of her through subtle hints at attraction between you two, and it worked, eventually.

All it took was holding Emily’s hand. Sad.

Emily laughed as Rebecca was dragged out of the room in handcuffs, earning her a stern look from Hotch when the two of you left as well.

Ugh, why did the rest of the precinct have to be so cold?

The plane ride home was uneventful, and so was leaving the bullpen after the last of the paperwork was finished, just before midnight three days after you’d left. Until, at least, Spencer jogged up to you, brown curls waving wildly in the D.C. wind, asking, “Wanna go out?”

“Like a date?” you asked, incredulous. If it was a date though, you wouldn’t be upset. You’d had a not-so-small and not-so-sneaky crush on him for almost the entire time you’d known him.

He stopped suddenly, speaking so fast it was a miracle he could get the words out at all.

“Slow down, Spence.”

“I just meant, maybe we could go get hot chocolate, or coffee, or whatever, and then just walk around D.C. or something? I don’t think I can sleep right now,” he blurted, brown doe eyes watching you expectantly in that way that made your heart flutter.

“I’m cold”, you said, almost pouting like a child.

He laughed for a second at that. “We can stop by your apartment first and change if you want.”

26 minutes later, according to Spencer, the two of you arrived at the doorstep of a slightly shady 24-hour coffee shop that Waze had been all too happy to lead you to. After getting some surprisingly good lattes, you two wandered aimlessly around D.C., occasionally bumping shoulders from how close you were. He’d tell you the history behind different buildings and monuments you passed, and you’d interrupt every few minutes because oH MY GOD SPENCE THAT HOUSE LOOKS LIKE A FACE!, or, LOOK THAT CLOUD LOOKS LIKE A BUTT!

Spencer laughed every time you got distracted, letting his eyes linger just a few seconds too long on your face when it lit up like a kid’s on Christmas, wanting to commit your face without stress, or fear, or anger to memory. Moments like these didn’t come often in your line of work.

When you realized it was starting to snow, Spencer swore he’d never seen you look this stunning, bundled up in one of his sweaters that you’d stolen months ago, with rosy cheeks and a red nose to match, eyes glimmering with excitement and lips spread wide in a smile and you spun around, eyes on the sparkling sky above.

Eventually, he said, “(Y/N)?” in a voice barely above a whisper.

Your head whipped around, and you stopped suddenly, all your attention focused on Spencer, something that never failed to make him feel cared for. “Yeah?”

He didn’t answer, instead slowly reaching out to hug you, the first physical contact between you he’d ever initiated. His arms around your waist were uncertain, and he haltingly rested his head on your shoulder, thankful you couldn’t see him grinning like an idiot. As soon as you hugged back, he pulled you in closer in a bone-crushing hug that you could’ve sworn made time stop.

“(Y/N)?” he mumbled against your skin.

“Yeah?”

“I know I said this wasn’t a date, but if you wanted it to be one, maybe it could be one?”

“I’d like that, Spencer.”

Cold.

It was cold.

But with Spencer holding onto you like there was no tomorrow, you were much, much warmer.

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starlightinhumanform · 3 years

Text

24/7: Chapter One

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship: Romantic Loceit, Platonic Demus, Platonic Logicality

Summary: James (aka Janus) works the graveyard shift at a open-all-night convenience store. Logan is a college student who stays up way too late, way too often. While pulling all-nighters, he often visits the store James works at. As time goes on, James begins to care about Logan as more than just a customer.

Warnings: Moderate Language, Some suggestive jokes, Mentions of ignorant/negative sentiments regarding vitiligo, Mentions of intoxication— some implied to be underage (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: College AU, Coffeeshop AU but weird (that’s literally the best way i can think of describing it), Mutual Feelings, Fluff

A/N: — Janus’ name in this AU is James (mostly because when I began planning this, his name hadn’t been revealed). I may still include his name by writing in a name-change but we’ll see lmao — I do not have vitiligo and do not personally know anyone with vitiligo; Janus’ experience with the condition is based entirely on my research. That being said, I did my best to give an accurate representation but I do not claim that it is flawless in anyway. If there are any improvements you think I can make in this area, please please let me know 🖤🖤🖤 Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3 Fic Masterpost Fic Request Info

James’ first shift started normally. That is, as normally as he could assume 24 hour convenience store shifts could be. It’s not like he had much experience with it.

Being his first day, he had assumed that the manager would’ve at least stuck around for a while. Instead, the woman had pointed out the bathroom plunger— advising him to not let anyone steal it— told him how to use the slushie machine, and said that if someone tried to rob the store, let them take the money; she even showed him the quickest way to open the cash register. Then she left within the first hour of James’ shift.

James didn’t mind being alone but he couldn’t fight down the frustration at his manager for abandoning him without actually telling him anything useful. He kept worrying that someone would ask a question that he couldn’t answer. What if the customer got angry and then he got reported and lost his job on the first night? Not to mention every time someone walked in, he was ready to bargain for his life with the $225.67 and a random condom in the cash register.

The adrenaline was getting to his head, stirring up usually dormant worries. He couldn’t stop glancing down at his hands. They were warm tan, patterned at random with lighter splotches. He had a condition known as vitiligo which made areas of his skin lose their pigmentation. For the majority of the time, it wasn’t a big deal; the worst part was the weird looks people gave him and even then, he could usually brush them off. Still, there was always the occasional idiot who felt the need to say something rude or inform him that he showed signs of demon possession. He hoped beyond everything that one of those incidents didn’t occur while he was alone in the store.

Thankfully, the only customers for the next few hours were a couple groups of teenagers at varying levels of intoxication and a traveling family made up of two parents suffering from highway-hypnosis and a small child who tried to climb into one of the drink refrigerators.

By one in the morning, the flow of incoming patrons had completely stopped. By that point James had already thrown back an entire 5-hour Energy drink and reorganized the chip rack— twice .

When the entry bell finally rang again at around two, James’ head was buzzing so badly he wasn’t sure if he had imagined the sound or not. A young man walked in— college aged with messy hair and glasses. He disappeared into the rows of brightly coloured plastic bags without a word and so quickly it made James once again question whether or not he was hallucinating.

It wasn’t until the man had made his way back to the counter, setting down a bag of chips and a couple energy drinks, that James was sure he existed. The man’s hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in two days and his dark circles were so deep they could be seen from beneath his squared glasses. Yup, definitely a college student.

Despite the obvious signs of exhaustion, the man was undeniably pretty. Counter to his tired scowl, his eyes were bright and alert, framing a sharp nose. The way he kept his strong chin tilted slightly upwards and walked with purpose gave him the appearance of someone who actually knew what he was doing with his life— so basically, the opposite of James.

James was hardly ever self conscious about his appearance but this man— this stupidly pretty, oddly perfect man— made James squirm just a little bit, made him wonder if he was living on one side of some scale while the customer lounged on the other side. James tried to shrugged it off, focusing on the items in front of him instead.

The man spent the entire interaction at the counter muttering to himself and never once making eye contact. It was a little strange, but he was cute and James was bored so he decided to just appreciate the entertainment while it lasted.

It wasn’t until James went to hand the man his receipt that he seemed to even become aware of James’ existence. James held out the thin slip of paper, apparently causing the man to flinch backwards. His reaction was strong enough to make James wonder if he was one of those people— the type that thought vitiligo was some sort of deadly, contagious disease.

His eyes darted up quickly, his gaze sharp as it scanned over James’ face, “You’re not the normal cashier.”

He was taken aback by the accusing tone in the man’s voice, “No, I guess I’m not? I just got hired; the other guy got let off… something about trying to steal the plunger.”

“Oh,” His face transformed into a noncommittal scowl that James simply could not read, “Expect me regularly.”

The man turned on his heels and walked briskly to the door as James stood frozen and mystified behind the counter, “Oh, uh… see you soon then.”

——————

James woke up to the smell of something burning. He didn’t even remember dragging himself home and collapsing in his bed but based on the smell bothering him he evidently had made it back. No one could burn food quite like his roommate.

“Remus what the fuck are you doing?” James shuffled out to the kitchen where his roommate was poking at something on the stove.

“Making lunch.”

Based on his bed head and near-complete lack of clothes (Remus always slept in booty shorts and nothing else) James could guess that he had woken up only a few minutes earlier himself, “Dude that does not smell like anything humans should eat.”

Remus gave him a wicked grin and James decided not to push the subject. He walked out of the room with a sigh and hoped that the smell would clear up soon.

He made his way into the living room, sitting down and flipping open his laptop. James groaned at the lack of new email notifications. No new emails meant no new job acceptions.

“Guess I’m working the night shift again.”

James was grateful he got the job at the convenience store— no question. Getting a job as a college dropout was both necessary and nearly impossible at the same time. He was lucky to get a job at all and being a graveyard shift, he got paid nearly double the normal wage for his position. For now, his sleep schedule would just have to suffer.

——————

The weeks drifted by and James fell into a dull, but easy rhythm. He would go to work every night, spend the hours rearranging chip bags, guarding the plunger, and— if he was lucky— the pretty college boy would come in for a few minutes to grab salty food and a caffeinated drink.

James wasn’t sure when it became “lucky” for the man to come into the store. Maybe it was lucky because he was entertaining, always preoccupied and wandering around the store like his mind was a hundred miles away. He had this odd sort of duality— somehow both spaced out and intensely focused at the same time. It was like he was concentrating on the dimension beyond the one James was living in. He floated through this world, always preoccupied with world in his head. It was endearing and intriguing and James found himself looking forward to seeing the man. James wanted to see the world inside his head, to know what was so captivating that he had no use or interest for what was outside of it.

The student was quickly becoming his favourite customer— something James never thought he would have— and he genuinely enjoyed having a chance to talk to the other guy. He was handsome, obviously intelligent, and, if given the chance, James definitely would’ve asked him out for a drink.

As it was though, James looked awful in his uniform so he would never have the confidence to make a move the only times he ever saw him.

James started to watch for him. The man came at least once a week, always between midnight and four in the morning. He must have lived nearby because he always walked over instead of taking a car like most of the other patrons. Either that, or he lived further away and walked all the way just for a bag of chips and an energy drink.

It was a Thursday like any other when he walked into the store and James’ curiosity got the better of him.

“So,” James leaned across the counter as the man sat his items down, “you come around here often?”

He tilted his head quizzically, “Yes? I do come here often? You’ve seen me.”

“No I— it was a joke,” James resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. This was… not going the way James would have hoped, “What’s your name? We might as well get on first name basis since we see each other all the time.”

“I’m Logan,” Logan seemed surprised by the question.

“I’m James.”

Logan gave a curt nod, “I know.”

“But— how? I—“

“It’s on your name tag,” And with that, Logan turned and marched out of the store.

——————

Logan laid on his back, arms and legs spread over the entirety of his bed. The only leftover space of the bed was occupied by Patton, one of his housemates.

“So how did the all-nighter go?”

Logan groaned, “Well… it sure as hell did go all night. I’m so fucking tired.”

“This is what you get for viewing the entire American university system as a challenge.”

He squinted up at Patton. With his blond hair and round, smiling face he looked like the direct inversion of whatever pale little zombie Logan currently felt like, “I gotta stop staying up so late.”

“I don’t know, you kind of seem to like it,” His housemate patted his leg and stood up to walk out of Logan’s room, “By the way, where do you keep going? I hear you leaving the house, like, super early all the time.”

Sunlight was streaming through his partially open blinds. It was probably quite pretty but to Logan it just looked like a headache-inducing glare. He threw a pillow over his face, muffling his voice as he answered, “Booty call.”

Patton laughed as he stopped walking, “Yeah right. The day you answer a booty call is the day I will shave my head.”

Logan shifted the pillow slightly to look at Patton again. The man’s hair was his prize possession, like a curly fluffy cloud that he kept as a pet on top of his head. Logan didn’t know how Patton could afford the time and money he put into his hair. What he did know, however, was that Patton would never risk its safety. Logan frowned in (mostly) fake insult, “You really think there’s not a single person who would send me a horny text at three in the morning?”

“Nah I think there are quite a few people who would do that. I just doubt there’s anyone you’d actually find worth answering.”

Was there anyone he would actually answer? Logan stared up at the dark fabric above him. The pillowcase was a deep navy blue and if he really squinted, he could see the weave of the thread, a thousand random threads coming together to make a greater whole. The way the individual pieces created something far larger than themselves was fascinating to Logan. He had never given it much before, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever find a random individual worth making something together.

In the darkness covering his eyes, a vision of the convenience store cashier flashed across his mind. The face he saw was light brown and across that warm canvas, lighter portions sprawled. For the first time, Logan began really thinking about that face. He had sharp features, tired eyes, and when he smiled with lips sloped upwards at a lopsided angle. His skin reminded Logan of the glossy photos of nebulae in his astronomy textbooks— bright splashes breaking up the sameness of the night sky. How had he never noticed that before? What was his name? James.

He heard the creak of their old floors beneath Patton as he walked out of Logan’s room. He probably thought Logan had fallen asleep as he lay there in silence. He was far from asleep, though. His mind was racing, trying to find the missed connections and continually finding new ones in the process. His eyes flickered as previously unrecognized thoughts began surfacing. And they didn’t stop. How had he never noticed?

“I’ve been going to that convenience store down the street,” Logan called as Patton walked away.

James.

Maybe there was someone for him.

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fanficsandfluff · 3 years

Text

Lights Out, Nobody Home

Fandom: Marvel’s The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Characters: Sam Wilson (Falcon), Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier)

Words: 1,766

Okay here you go lmao. Bc @bigirlgiggles and @ticklingmood showed interest. Unfortunately, loves, I forgot to mention there was zero tickling in it *cries*

The tone is so bad, it’s bordering on offensive hurt/comfort..... I wrote it in a sleepy daze I just needed to write something.

We go deal with that, and when we’re done, we both can go on separate, long vacations and never see each other again.

... and never see each other again.

I like that.

"I like that?" Bucky muttered to himself aloud in the back of a cab that was taking him home. Did Sam... No, he couldn't have known. He can't be feeling the same way as me right now. That's why he said that in the first place. But why did he have to give him that answer? That curt response that he didn't at all mean?

Bucky unlocked his apartment door and stepped inside, the whole place oddly quiet and dark. He left the lights off as he roamed around, getting himself a drink. And drink he did.

Bucky had the news on the television, not often changing channels. He wasn't the sitcom-at-midnight kind of viewer. With no inkling for sleep in mind, Bucky finished the pack of beer he just bought (and dammit was hoping to save and spread out because now he needed more).

Never See Each Other Again.

Bucky's eyes burned. No. No no nonono...

Could Sam see in his eyes how clouded they were in that police interrogation room? As they were forced to stare at each other, legs intertwined. Did Sam pick up on his moment of weakness?

Bucky heard his phone make its ringing sound and he looked down at the coffee table at it. Area code could've been Sam's... He didn't flick the phone open, just put it back down and let it ring.

"And you agreed... You sorry sack of shit--Fuck!" Bucky had shattered the final beer bottle he held in his metal arm, and it surprised him. He whisked off the dripped residue from his arm, brushing off any broken glass from his thighs. Fucking knew it, Buck. You knew to get cans instead of bottles, but they were out of cans, so we settled for bottles and look what the fuck happens.

His eyes were still burning, and he kept them that way for so long his sinuses were starting to get sore. He moved slowly and calculated, cleaning up the glass shards in the dark apartment. The flickering TV didn't illuminate enough, it seems, as a forgotten piece sliced into his palm when he went feeling around between the couch cushions. Without much of a reaction from him, he pulled out the shard and tossed it away like the others.

A ring of his doorbell happened next and Bucky went into full alert mode. "God dammit..." he didn't think he was mentally ready to act as a functioning member of society right now.

Bucky tiptoed to the door and looked out the peephole, actually sighing out loud when he saw Sam and his raised eyebrow. Then he knocked.

Bucky cracked the door open and before he could get a word out, Sam said, "Woah... we living in full darkness over here? I feel like I'm actually entering your physical mind right now. Electricity bills must be cheap."

Bucky moved to close the door but Sam's hand reached in, "Hey! Hey, Buck, I just want--"

"Don't call me that."

"You're right, I forgot. I'm sorry," and Sam meant it, "Can I come in?"

Bucky took a few beats, and Sam let him have them, before he threw open the deadbolt and let Sam inside. Sam immediately flicked the light switch on.

When Sam did that, Bucky went to the windows and shut all the blinds and pulled the curtains fully tight, wincing when the cut in his palm was slid through the rope attached to the blinds.

"I thought we could talk," Sam started speaking again.

"Haven't we done enough of that today?"

"Without Nurse Ratched supervising," Sam looked over stained spots on the couch and all the empty beer bottles on the coffee table. It made him frown. Bucky was staring at him already and he looked back.

"I think we both made our points," Bucky said and he made the move to clear all the bottles out of the room once he picked up on Sam observing them. That's when Sam caught sight of the red palm.

"You good?" he moved forward, instinct taking over to reach for Bucky's hand. Bucky pulled that arm to his chest and took several steps back, "I'm perfect."

Sam's brow furrowed and he scoffed, "Shit, man... did anyone ever tell you you're stubborn?"

"Several people, yes."

Sam let the silence hang after the mild snarky comments, and he gathered up three of the bottles in his hand, taking them to the kitchen recycling. Bucky took the rest and he stayed in the kitchen to wash out his hand. Sam watched him and then he watched Bucky's face as he let the water run over his wound.

"Now who's staring?"

Sam smiled, "You know, you always look like you're one comment away from crying." He said it. He said that and he meant absolutely no teasing or malice from it. Sam tried in the most earnest way to reach out to the ex-Winter Soldier.

Bucky hardened his jaw and he turned the faucet off. He grabbed a paper towel and carefully shredded it from its group, holding it in his human hand. In this instant, he was afraid to stare. He was afraid to meet Sam's eyes for fear of actually breaking down into tears. But then he challenged that thought and shared eyesight with Sam.

"Wh-What do you want?" ah, fuck. He fucking stuttered.

"The comment I made. The closing statement. I said it to get us out of that room and out here so we can help," he paused to think of what to say next, "It worked. Right?"

Wrong way to say things, Wilson. Bucky skirted himself around Sam to walk back towards the living room.

"I've read people's faces for a living, Bucky. Faces like yours. What I said about us never seeing each other again, I saw what it did to you. As hard as you try to hide it," Sam followed him, watching Bucky take a seat on his couch.

"I'm waiting for an apology."

"Well, then you'll be waiting for a while because I'm not giving one. I'm explaining myself, since you didn't want to listen in that room--"

"I listened. I asked questions that I wanted answers to. Steve wanted--"

"Bucky, Steve ain't here anymore," Sam sat down besides Bucky on the couch, facing him, looking at him with a caring intensity, "He's not. I made the choice I thought was right, I don't know how many times I have to say it. I told him it didn't feel like mine, I told him I wasn't ready. Tell me you haven't ever felt like that in your life... unprepared for a burden you knew would be fucking monumental. I donated the shield. I didn't vote to create a new Cap. Bucky..." Sam's voice wavered and dropped to a whisper when he saw tears trickling down Bucky's cheeks.

Bucky scrunched his face up and turned away from Sam. He didn't make much noise. He just sat and let the hot tears run down his face. This had to be a lesson in bottling emotions... don't fucking do it otherwise you'll explode like a fire hydrant with tears all at once.

Sam didn't move, didn't think to make a move. He heard Bucky sniffle once to get an intake of breath and he reached out a hand and placed it on the other man's shoulder.

"I... I'm touched you feel that attached to me. That you want to make this work, and you couldn't live without me, because hey, I don't blame you--"

"Oh, just shut the fuck up," Bucky sniffled again, now wiping at his nose that was threatening to run.

Sam started to laugh and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against Bucky's arm as he let his laugh out. Even Bucky wasn't immune. He was looking anywhere but at Sam, wet eyes darting around, but he was kind of smiling. It was a small one and the tear streaks and red eyes weren't helping him out there. Bucky shoved Sam off his arm after a few seconds, "Get off."

"Are we gonna be able to get to work on this?"

Bucky nodded, now wiping his eyes. Sam quickly got up and retrieved another paper towel for Bucky to use to clean off his face as opposed to swiping his cold metal appendage all over it.

"You still love me?"

Bucky eyed Sam and saw that cheeky bastard revel in what he asked, "No."

"I'm hurt."

"Good."

"Buck."

"I said don't call me--"

"...yyyy. Buckyyyy. Yo, you didn't even let me finish, you're so angry all the time. Oh--oH! Oho, now he's clamming up again! Did I hurt your feelings?"

"You are so rude, did you know that?"

Now Sam was laughing again.

Bucky continued, "I'm over here crying and pouring my heart out and you just keep..." he mimed a stabbing motion in midair, "... keep twisting that knife. You're never satisfied. I'm your asshole punching bag for anything quippy and-- Sam," Bucky was staring at the man nearly losing it from laughing at him so much, "This isn't funny, I'm being serious. I'm opening up to you, you dick. This is what your problem is."

Bucky was frowning, but he knew inside he felt no hate. Was this growth? Maybe. He was just insatiably annoyed by the fucking Falcon.

"You're a dick," Bucky said again, and Sam had quelled his laughter most of the way. Bucky reached out with his metal appendage and tweaked Sam's side.

"Hehey! Don't you try tickling me! You know what you're gonna get?"

"Get out of my house. Time to leave."

Sam was being ushered towards the door.

"Hey, I take back what I said," Sam leaned against the front door with Bucky ready to push him through it, "About the long vacation. I can't leave you alone for long. So, it looks like we're stuck together."

Bucky stared, studied.

"Thanks for coming over. You're so fucking annoying, though," and Bucky even flashed a smile when Sam giggled again.

"I'm glad I came. I watched you go through a whirlwind of emotions I didn't even know your android brain had."

"Goodnight, Sam," Bucky reached across the man and opened the door for him.

"I'll see you tomorrow so we can get to work."

Bucky nodded. He shut the door, clicking the locks back into place. Hmm... couples therapy might be the key.

#the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #falcon #winter soldier #winterfalcon #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sam wilson and bucky barnes #hurt/comfort #sam comforting bucky #friendship #partners #crying #emotional #happy ending #marvel #tfatws fanfiction

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super-secret-sick-fics · 3 years

Note

LOL I’m the one that requested a sakuatsu fic unless more than 1 person did so kinda perfect😭 -person that gave feedback

Request:

Hii! Could you write a sakuatsu fic where atsumu wakes up in the middle of the night from food poisoning after they went out to eat and sakusa takes care of him? Thank you!!

Well you’re in luck! I got super carried away w this one lmao.

It ended up being a little more about Sakusa than I intended, but I hope it’s still kinda what you wanted!!

Sakusa is probably v ooc as well, but lowkey I hc that he completely lets his guard down in front of Atsumu and is a major touch-starved simp.

Here it is!

I love you: a Sakuatsu sick fic

Pairing: Sick Atsumu, caretaker Sakusa

Word Count: 3,446

Warnings: vomiting, swearing (probably)

———————————————————————

The ending credits of the movie Sakusa and Atsumu just watched rolled slowly down the screen, some sappy love song playing in the background. Sakusa picked up his phone to check the time and was briefly blinded by the bright screen. He blinked a few times to clear his vision and checked the time.

It was only 10:30, but the lump that was his boyfriend was attached to his side heavily, informing Sakusa that Atsumu was fast asleep. He pinched his eyebrows together in confusion.

He and Atsumu had the day off tomorrow, so they decided to spend their evening at a nice restaurant and then snuggled up on their couch watching a movie and sharing a bottle of one of their more expensive wines.

Atsumu buzzed with excitement all week, seeing as it was their first date night since the regular season started. Sure, they lived together. But most nights, they either stayed late for extra practice, or were too tired to really do anything but watch Netflix and order take out. Tonight was a big deal for the couple.

Which is exactly why Sakusa was so thoroughly confused at that moment. Atsumu was a night owl by nature and didn’t usually go to bed before midnight most nights (a schedule adjustment that did not come easily to Sakusa when they first moved in together). That, coupled with how much looked forward to their evening, should mean that he would still be wide awake right now. Not drooling on Sakusa’s shoulder.

Sakusa placed a hand on his boyfriend’s forehead. Maybe he was sick. In which case, Sakusa would need to call Osamu to come help take care of his brother. (He’d come a long way with his fear of germs, but he still struggled with sickness. Even if it was Atsumu).

He frowned when his temperature didn’t feel any warmer than usual. He pursed his lips and, somewhat relieved, shrugged off his concern. It wouldn’t be totally unbelievable that Atsumu was simply exhausted. They had been traveling so much for their games and practice had been pretty grueling the last few weeks. It could completely make sense that his fatigue caught up with him on a night they could thoroughly relax.

“Atsumu,” he shrugged his shoulder and Atsumu’s head bobbed up and down with it. However, his boyfriend did not wake up.

“Atsumu,” he tried again, “hey wake up, baby. Let’s go to bed.” He brought his hand up to gently pinch the sleeping boy’s cheek. Atsumu’s nose and eyebrows scrunched up and he blinked several times before peering up at Sakusa.

“Mmmm” he sat up and rubbed his eyes, “what time is it?”

“It’s only a little after 10:30,” Sakusa answered and Atsumu turned to him. His face was paler than usual, noticeable even in the dim lighting provided by the TV. Sakusa’s concern returned immediately.

“Are you alright? Why are you so sleepy?” Sakusa asked as he took one of Atsumu’s hands in his own. Atsumu yawned.

“Not sure. Just got real tired all of a sudden and musta fallen asleep. Probably just ‘cause we’ve been so busy,” Atsumu brought their joined hands to his lips and pecked Sakusa’s knuckles.

“I’m sorry, Omi. I know this was supposed to be a special night.” Atsumu said as he cuddled into Sakusa once again. Sakusa wrapped an arm around Atsumu and fiddled with the ends of his hair. Within a minute, he heard Atsumu’s breathing slow down and felt his body relax more fully. He frowned again.

“Oi, come on.” He tugged on the piece of hair he was playing with and Atsumu whined.

“Let’s go to bed,” he said again. Atsumu groaned, but sat up. A moment later, he squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled deeply.

“Really, babe. Are you alright?” Sakusa questioned, his worry increasing. He put a hand on Atsumu’s back. Atsumu opened his eyes and nodded.

“Yeah. Just sat up too fast. Got a lil dizzy.”

“Okay,” Sakusa hesitated. Atsumu clearly wasn’t going to admit that something might be wrong, so he let it go.

The two of them stood up and Sakusa surveyed the coffee table in front of them. Empty bowls from the ice cream they had earlier as well as their empty wine glasses and the empty wine bottle stared back at him tauntingly. He sent Atsumu off to bed with the promise of being in right after he finished cleaning up.

Normally Atsumu would offer to help, but he simply nodded and slowly stumbled his way to the bathroom.

By the time Sakusa finished cleaning up and got ready for bed, Atsumu was already passed out, curled up in the blankets.

***

“—lease. Omi, wake up,” Sakusa jolted awake when a sharp pain crossed his shoulder. He looked up to see Atsumu sitting up, slightly hunched over. His heavy, slow breathing the only sounds in the room.

Sakusa sat up and turned on his bedside table lamp. When he looked back at Atsumu, his worry from earlier returned with ten times the intensity.

Atsumu was bent over, his arms wrapped protectively around his stomach. His shoulders heaved with heavy, shaking breaths and his face was pinched and shining with sweat.

“Atsumu? Baby? What’s wrong?” he questioned as he scrambled to sit in front of his boyfriend. He cupped Atsumu’s face in his hands and gasped at the heat he felt.

Atsumu opened his eyes and tears immediately rolled down his flushed cheeks. Sakusa’s chest tightened. No, no. He could not be sick. His hands pulled back and he felt himself start to move away from Atsumu.

Every instinct he had told Sakusa to get away. But he couldn’t do that. Atsumu needed him right now. There was no waiting for Osamu. He needed to help him right then. He could fight through his fears to help his boyfriend. Sakusa moved back towards Atsumu.

“My head is pounding, but my stomach hurts worse, Omi,” Atsumu choked, “it hurts so bad. I feel so sick.” He slowly closed his eyes again and brought the back of his hand up to his mouth.

“Are you… do you think you’re going to be sick, baby?” Sakusa asked nervously. Atsumu nodded quickly. Sakusa cringed, but did everything in his power to keep himself rooted to his place in front of Atsumu.

“Okay,” he forced out past the knot in his throat. “Okay. That’s fine, Atsumu. Let’s go to the bathroom, alright?” His voice was shaking, but if Atsumu could tell, he didn’t show it. His only response was a fast shake of his head, his eyes still glued shut, and a small heave.

“Not—“ he heaved again, “no. Can’t move.”

This was Sakusa’s worst nightmare.

He scanned the room and got up quickly. Atsumu started whimpering.

“Hey, no, no. It’s okay,” Sakusa reassured when he sat down by Atsumu once more. “I was just going to get a bin, see?” He placed their trash can in Atsumu’s lap with trembling hands.

“Aren’t ya going to—hnng— call Samu?” Atsumu asked, staring down into the trash can. Tears hit the plastic with gentle plops and Sakusa felt his heart break.

Atsumu knew even in his current state that Sakusa was not mentally equipped to handle this situation. He knew that Sakusa would much prefer for Osamu to be taking care of this situation. It made him feel horrible.

“Not right now. It’s late. I can call him in the morning. Right now, I’m more worried about you. I’ll be okay until then. I promise,” he stated as confidently as he could. Atsumu looked at him, fever-glazed eyes wide and teary. His bottom lip quivered before he nodded gratefully.

The next few minutes were painful for both of them. Atsumu winced and whined as cramps tormented his stomach, the occasional gag or airy burp popping up. Sakusa’s own anxiety was trying to fight it’s way to the surface, but he tried with all of his being to push it down. This was his boyfriend. The man he loved. Osamu would not always be a call away to come and care for his brother.

Finally, with a terrible wretch, Atsumu doubled over the trash can and vomited painfully. Their dinner, dessert, and the wine from earlier making a less than pleasant reappearance. Sakusa wanted to run away, but instead, he put a hand on his boyfriend’s sweaty back and rubbed small circles between his shoulder blades.

“There you go, baby. It’s okay,” he swallowed his own nauseas when Atsumu vomited again. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Atsumu panted over the trash can, his eyes wide.

“Kiyoomi, it hurts so bad. Please make it stop,” he cried before a belch brought up more vomit.

“I wish I could, Atsumu, I’m so sorry you’re hurting. It’ll be over soon hopefully.” He said gently.

Atsumu was starting to get more frantic as the vomiting continued. His body wasn’t giving him any reprieve. Painful heaves and body-shuddering wretches seemed to be plaguing him non-stop. Deep burps brought torrents of puke into the nearly half-full bin.

“I don’t—huurlp— please, Omi—blrg—“ he was dry heaving and full on sobbing now and Sakusa was growing more and more concerned as it didn’t seem like Atsumu was getting any oxygen.

“Oi, Atsumu,” he tried to get his attention, “hey, babe. Listen to me. You’re making it worse. You need to breathe, Atsumu.” He moved the trash can away and sat in front of his boyfriend again. Atsumu’s eyes were wide in panic and his chest heaved as he tried unsuccessfully to take in any air.

“C-can’t—“ he gasped.

“Yes you can. I promise you can,” Sakusa reassured, holding Atsumu’s face in his hands again. He brushed back his sweaty bangs soothingly and started taking deep, over-exaggerated breaths. This was how Atsumu helped Sakusa through anxiety attacks, so the wing spiker was sure that he knew what was happening without needing an explanation.

Within a few minutes, Atsumu had calmed down and was breathing mostly normal again. He was still crying, but that was okay. Sakusa could handle that.

“See? You’re fine. I’m not gonna let anything bad happen, okay baby?” Atsumu nodded. His eyes were drifting closed and his entire face was slack with exhaustion.

“Lay down. I’m going to go replace the bag in the bin and get a few things to make you feel better, okay?” Atsumu simply nodded again and curled into their sheets.

Once Sakusa was in the bathroom, he replaced the bag in the trash can, placing the old one in the tub for now. He scrubbed his hands in the sink for probably too long and then put the lid down on the toilet and sat.

He looked down at his trembling hands and took a deep, shaky, breath. He did it. He helped Atsumu. He needed to continue helping until the morning when it was reasonable to call Osamu. He could do it. He loved Atsumu. That was more than enough reason to try as best as he could to put his own anxieties aside for now.

After he collected himself, he went back to their room, the clean bin, various meds, a thermometer, and a glass of water in his hands. Atsumu was still lying in a tight ball, but his eyes were wide open, staring at nothing in particular. They rolled to look at Sakusa when he found his spot by Atsumu again.

He ran his fingers through Atsumu’s hair once more and Atsumu sighed. It was peaceful for a bit, but Atsumu’s gurgling stomach interrupted the quiet. The setter groaned.

“Still feeling bad?” Sakusa’s eyebrows furrowed and his lips pulled together in a tight line. Atsumu only nodded again. Sakusa didn’t like how quiet he was being.

“Well, sit up for just a minute. Drink some water and take some meds, and then we can lay down and you can get some sleep.” Sakusa commanded and helped his boyfriend sit up.

Atsumu smiled gratefully at him and did as he was told. Even looking as sickly as he was, Sakusa still found him incredibly beautiful.

“I’m sorry, Omi-Omi. I know you’re probably pushing away a lot of anxiety right now,” Atsumu said as he laid back down.

“Yeah,” Sakusa chuckled forcefully, “but I love you,” he smiled. He wiped down Atsumu’s sweaty face with a wet rag he brought with him. Atsumu didn’t respond, but when Sakusa looked at him again, he was crying.

“Thank you,” was all he said. With that, Sakusa laid down beside Atsumu, the trash can within reaching distance, and pulled his sick boyfriend into his side. Atsumu tensed for just a moment before relaxing and cuddling into Sakusa’s side.

***

Sakusa woke with a start again not even an hour later at the sound of retching coming from behind the closed bathroom door. He trudged over and opened the door, leaning against the frame.

There was his pitiful boyfriend, face resting on the toilet seat (gross). His face was slack and he panted heavily. Sakusa sighed and shook his head before moving to sit beside Atsumu (on the bathroom floor—gross).

“What are you doing, idiot? Why didn’t you wake me up?” He pulled Atsumu towards him and settled the sick boy in his lap. Atsumu shivered and curled into himself.

“It’s okay, Omi-Omi,” he breathed, nuzzling into Sakusa’s thigh, “I can handle it, I’ll be okay.”

Sakusa’s irritation flared up. What a self-sacrificing idiot.

“Atsumu, don’t do that,” he nearly snapped.

“Omi?” Atsumu whimpered, his eyes wide as he looked up at Sakusa. Sakusa huffed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap, but don’t be so stupid okay? You’re my boyfriend. Like I said, I love you. I want to help.” He ran his fingers through Atsumu’s hair.

“But I don’t want you to push yourself into doing something I know you’re uncomfortable with,” Atsumu replied. His voice was raspy and there wasn’t any snark behind it like normal. It made Sakusa unreasonably annoyed. He hated that Atsumu was feeling so bad and was still putting Sakusa first. But then again, his selflessness was why he fell in love with the cocky setter in the first place.

“And I don’t want you to push yourself when I know that you’re uncomfortable already. You’re more important to me than anything else. I’ll be fine. Thank you. I love that you’re willing to accommodate my anxiety, but please. Let me help you.”

Atsumu started crying again, his eyes wide and his mouth trembling.

“Why are you crying, dumbass? If you throw up on me, I don’t think I’ll be able to back up my words.” Atsumu shook his head.

“No just...thank you, Kiyoomi. I love you so much,” he cried and sniffled. Sakusa chuckled and wiped away Atsumu’s tears.

They chatted idly for a while about mindless things. Sakusa almost believed that they were in the clear and Atsumu would be okay.

At least until the setter shot up from his lap, nearly head-butting Sakusa in the process.

“Atsumu?” the wing spiker asked tentatively.

Atsumu answered by throwing himself over the toilet followed by a wet burp and a slurry of vomit splashing in the toilet. He remained in that position for another minute, sputtering and heaving, nothing more than bile coming up.

Sakusa grimaced. Atsumu turned and placed his cheek on the toilet set, tired, foggy eyes gazing back at Sakusa.

“Poor baby,” he soothed, wiping off Atsumu’s mouth with some toilet paper. Atsumu whimpered.

Sakusa washed his hands and turned to leave the bathroom. He came back a few minutes later with their pillows and comforter.

Atsumu had moved to leaning against the wall, his head tilted back and arms wrapped around his knees. A steady flow of silent tears rolled down his flushed cheeks and Sakusa dropped everything he had and rushed to his side.

“Atsumu? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked, thumbing tears off his boyfriend’s cheeks. Atsumu opened his eyes and sobbed.

“I’m sorry, Omi. I j-just feel s-so bad,” he took in a shuddering breath, “and— and I thought you left and that was fine, b-but I also wanted you to s-stay even th-though that’s selfish o-of m-me,” he cried. Sakusa shushed him gently and pulled him into a hug.

“It’s okay. Don’t feel bad about that. I already told you I’m not going anywhere,” he stroked Atsumu’s hair.

“I just went to get our pillows and comforter. I figured,” he continued, “I figured it’d be best to stay in here and I wanted you to be comfortable.”

Atsumu pulled back to look at Sakusa.

“You’d sleep on the bathroom floor with me, Omi?”

Sakusa chuckled, “yeah. Unfortunately that’s how much you’ve changed me Miya Atsumu.”

Atsumu gave him a wobbly smile before he gagged and turned back to the toilet to puke again.

Sakusa’s nose scrunched up, but he rubbed Atsumu’s back up and down as he threw up again.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped repeatedly in between heaves. Once his body gave him a moment, he sat back and shivered.

“Looks like this is going to go one for a while,” he whispered, hoarse.

“That’s alright,” Sakusa smiled, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Atsumu’s only response was to start heaving again.

***

The two of them sat at their breakfast table, Atsumu in much too good a mood for having kept Sakusa up half the night. Sakusa held a cup of coffee in his hands as the freshly-showered Atsumu nibbled on some toast. He was still pale, but he looked much better than a few hours ago.

Sakusa’s entire body was heavy and his mind exhausted from the lack of sleep and fighting off anxiety all night.

Atsumu woke them up a few more times in the night to be sick, but around four in the morning, seemed to be down throwing up for a while at least. The two of them collapsed into their bed and didn’t stir again until about two in the afternoon.

By the time they woke up again, a lot of the color returned to Atsumu’s face and his fever was broken. He told Sakusa his stomach was still crampy and felt hollow, but he didn’t feel nearly as miserable as he did all night.

“Must’ve been the chicken from the restaurant,” Atsumu shrugged after Sakusa questioned what could possibly have made him so sick, only for him to be nearly completely better a few hours later.

“What do you mean?” Sakusa asked. Atsumu shrugged again.

“Looked a little pink.”

Sakusa could have smacked him.

“Then why on earth did you eat it?” He questioned, glaring daggers at the imbecile across from him.

“Because Omi-Omi,” Atsumu rolled his eyes, “I thought I was being paranoid. The lighting in the restaurant was pretty dim, ya know?”

“You’re such an idiot. Please just trust your instincts next time,” Sakusa offered him a long-suffering sigh. He stood up and Atsumu followed him with his eyes.

“Where ya going?”

“To shower and change the sheets and sleep for the rest of the day.”

“I’ll change the sheets, Omi,” Atsumu stood up.

“No you should rest. Even if it was just food poisoning caused by your own thoughtlessness, you were still sick and we still have practice tomorrow.” Sakusa yawned and pecked Atsumu on the top of his head before making to leave again. He was stopped when Atsumu grabbed his wrist.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Omi. I know it wasn’t easy,” he stared at Sakusa, his eyes wide and earnest. Sakusa blinked at him for a second before he smiled.

He placed a hand on Atsumu’s still-clammy cheek and leaned down to give him a lingering kiss on the lips. When he pulled back Atsumu smiled gracefully at him. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Can’t just kiss me like that, Omi-Omi. Ya made me pretty dizzy there. I’m still recovering, ya know,” he laughed weakly.

“I told you. I love you,” he smiled. Atsumu smiled again and looked at Sakusa lovingly.

“But you’re an idiot.” Atsumu’s face immediately dropped into a pout. Sakusa pecked his lips once more (now that he knew it was food poisoning, so not contagious, it was fine) and made his way to the bathroom.

“Mean, Omi!” He heard Atsumu shout.

And when Sakusa finished his long, warm, cleansing shower, he came back to his room to an already made bed with fresh clean sheets, the corners tucked in exactly how he liked it and he felt his heart swell.

And yeah. He really loved Atsumu and that always gave him plenty of strength to combat his own anxieties.

#sakuatsu #sakusa kiyoomi #miya atsumu #sick Atsumu #caretaker sakusa #my fic #haikyuu sickfic #sakusa is a simp and you can’t convince me otherwise #Atsumu is a child when he’s sick #he just feels so bad and he hates it so he cries #vomiting #food poisoning #Atsumu is also an idiot #but sakusa loves him anyway

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turquoise-skyyyy · 3 years

Text

The Solution To Everything(Is Hair Dye)

Note: Human AU! First time posting writing on tumblr lmao, and I wanted to try a bit of a different writing style... so there’s that.

Just a little writing practice paired with Marellinh fluff n kinda angst ig :)

Word count: uhhh i went overboard

Blurb: Linh is lonely, with no one in the world left by her side, hurt, by all that she’s lost, and possibly has an ever-so-slight crush on her elusive blonde neighbor. Marella needs someone to dye her hair within the day, and Linh happens to have exactly what she needs, in more ways than one.

When Linh wakes late in the night, startled from her dozing state on the couch in her dimly lit living room to the sound of persistent knocking, she certainly doesn’t expect to find the blonde neighbor she’s been inconspicuously watching— she’s still trying to convince herself that casually watching the girl enter her house anytime she got the chance wasn’t stalking— for the past three weeks since she moved in next door to be on the other side. And when the panting girl in front of her sucks in a breath, Linh definitely doesn’t expect the words that spill from her lips—

“Can you dye my hair?”

Linh blinks with bewilderment, still trying to process that the girl is here, on her doorstep. Not to mention really, really pretty. Annoyingly so, to the point where Linh’s tired brain has to avert her eyes to focus on forcing her mouth to form words.

“What?”

The girl smiles apologetically, and suddenly Linh’s throat feels dry. The girl’s beauty is much more manageable from a distance, through subtle glances out of the corner of her eye across the hall.

“My roomates— screw them— dared me to dye my hair bright green by tomorrow. I lost a bet.” She looks away. “And you have green hair dye, so...”

Linh stares dumbly, trying to puzzle out how to respond to such a random, odd request. Though she moved into the apartment complex almost a month ago and her maybe sort of possible little crush lives just next door, her mind is still trying to register the fact that they have finally crossed paths. And the girl has come to her, no less.

“How do you know I have hair dye?” The hair dye is something she’s gotten to send to Tam. The silver in his hair is something he kept in long after she cut it off and cut off their parents. He still hangs on, and Linh wants to change that, even if they haven’t spoken in a year. She isn’t going to send it though, she knows. She always chickens out. Her brother’s silence for the past year isn’t easy to face. Still, she buys brightly-colored dyes frequently on the off chance that a lightning strike of confidence will hit her. It hasn’t happened yet, but it’s a comforting routine anyway.

The girl blushes, scratching the back of her neck bashfully and shifting from foot to foot. The movement draws Linh’s eyes to her shoes. They’re ratty sneakers, and upon closer inspection, it looks like there are messy, multi-colored words scribbled all over the sides. The weird shoes match the long, tacky rainbow socks that go up to her knees and the bright, tie-dye, too big sweater draped over her surprisingly small frame, with black leggings to top off the outfit underneath.

“Well, I saw you coming back in from the supermarket yesterday and there was a box of green hair dye poking out of the bags...” she trails off. “Oh my god. I sound like a stalker, don’t I? I swear I’m not.”

Linh can’t help the delirious, sleep-deprived giggle that escapes at the words. It’s ridiculous to her, that the girl she’s been following and observing as subtly as humanly possible because she’s just so pretty and Linh wants to know everything is the one worrying about being a creep.

The girl grins at her laughter, the question still burning in her eyes, which are an even brighter shade of blue than Linh realized up close.

She clicks her phone on, checking the time discreetly. It’s late, nearly midnight. The hair dye takes at least an hour, most likely more, to finish. She has an exam at nine the next day that she still hasn’t studied for and she hasn’t yet messaged Tam for her daily one-sided check-in that he never responds to, or even reads.

She looks back up at the girl with thin braids threaded through thick, golden locks, framing beautiful ice blue eyes set in a still blushing face, waiting for her at her doorstep with an open gaze and just maybe, an open mind.

Her stupid, fluttering heart makes a decision before her rational mind can catch up.

“Come on in.”

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

The girl, who introduces herself as Marella, asks her if she’s always so quiet.

Linh snorts, resisting the urge to point out that Marella is the one invading the house of a relative stranger in the middle of the night. Of course, there’s also the fact that she let her, and that isn’t even considering how flustered the blonde makes her. Especially in such close proximity, where she can smell the faint lavender wafting off her hair. Linh never would have pegged her for a lavender girl.

And when she leans closer to touch up the roots again, she realizes that Marella smells of something spicy. It’s good, comforting, like the home-cooked meals made with love that Linh only ever got to experience in other people’s houses because hers never truly felt like home, or the smell of wood when it was burned in a desperate attempt to keep the warmth in the winter because woolen hats and group hugs were never quite enough to warm everyone’s toes.

Linh has to remind herself to keep working her fingers through the hair.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Linh is thankful when the summer sun finally leaks away and is replaced by autumn wind. There’s something calming about the crisp air blowing through the hair that escapes from tightly-zipped thin hoodies and the leaves bleeding red and gold. She much prefers it to the heat of the summer, or the harshness of winter, the temperatures of which she can never quite escape from completely.

When she pulls open the doors to a nearby cafe and lets the smell of warmth and caffeine wash over her face, and falls into line to order, she isn’t expecting to be behind a girl with a mane of blonde hair that’s streaked through with bright green that hurt the eyes and small braids that sway when she shifts. And Linh’s weeks of watching from a distance pay off— and the hard-to-ignore green certainly helps— because she recognizes the girl immediately.

It’s Marella, sporting the new, significantly greener look that she gained by Linh’s own hands. Linh blushes at the reminder of the night weeks ago. She’s surprised to find that it was the first time she’s seen the girl since their unintentional night together. She’s been so occupied with settling in, getting organized, figuring out independence, and attempting to reach out to her absentee brother, that she hasn’t even noticed the girl’s absence. It seems her creeper skills have gotten rusty, which should make her happy but instead causes the barest amounts of disappointment to creep up. Even from afar, Marella is lively and brightens, or at least eases, the monotonous days that all seem to bleed into each other in one eternal, never-ending passage of pain.

“Hey!” Marella’s voice jolts Linh from her thoughts. “Nice to see you here!”

“H-Hi!” Linh stutters. She thinks the girl’s impossibly blue, intent gaze will always catch her off guard.

Her gaze shifts to the green in Marella’s hair, the harsh coloring softened by the sunlight streaming in through the windows of the cafe and bouncing off the bright strands.

“Your hair looks nice.”

Marella touches a hand to her neon green-streaked look and smirks. “All thanks to you.”

Linh’s cheeks warm at the praise. By the time they reach the orders taken down, Marella has somehow convinced Linh to sit and drink with her. She takes Linh’s wrist lightly and guides her to a table, an action that makes Linh’s face heat again. She looks down at the thin fingers encircling her arm to make sure she isn’t dreaming, and is elated to find that she isn’t.

And sitting in that booth, sipping their warm coffees and exchanging even warmer smiles, Linh’s romantic fantasies from afar suddenly seem a lot closer than she ever thought possible.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Linh isn’t sure exactly how she’s gone from watching her neighbor from a(very far) distance to being dragged into her unfamiliar apartment to be introduced to her roommates, but she can’t say she’s complaining.

As nerve-wracking as it is to be inside Marella’s house, she has to admit that the chance of pace from routine is something she would have been too scared to do herself. Had Marella not knocked on her door and practically shoved her out of her own with an evil grin on her face and into the girl’s shared one just minutes before, she might have stayed holed up in her own apartment forever, seldom leaving and only ever for basic necessities.

Patterns are nice, reliable, and most of all, consistent, something that Linh has never had before, and up until a year ago, had given up on attaining, but there’s something undeniably exciting about throwing caution to the wind and launching herself into a new situation.

However, there is the slight problem of said new situation happening to be making a good impression on her crush’s roommates, who are all staring down at her stoically in a solid line of four with their arms crossed and their gazes narrowed. It reminds Linh of the stereotypical movie tropes in which the overprotective dad interrogates the unnecessarily perfect Mary Sue’s new boyfriend when she brings him home for the first time, and she has to force herself not to laugh in the faces of the people glaring down at her. They’re all at least half a head taller than her, excluding the brunette girl, who has the most terrifying expression of them all on her face.

Three hours later, Linh is laughing tears of joy and drinking hot cocoa with whipped cream and cinnamon with the scary roommates in their warmly lit, cozy living room, who’s first impression couldn’t have been more wrong.

The scary-looking brunette girl isn’t actually one of Marella’s roommates, instead living with the other brunette, her brother, at home with their parents. Her name is Biana, she has an attachment to the color purple that everyone else seems to make fun of her for, and an affinity for randomly throwing out the others’ clothes and replacing them with ones she deems good enough to be seen out with.

Her brother, who’s name is Fitzroy— everyone teases him about this— is better known as Fitz. He is smart, put-together, and as Marella refers to him, their group’s resident “tired dad”. He’s dating Dex, the nerdy but sarcastic actual roommate of Marella.

Then there is Sophie, who was in the kitchen when Linh first came in, and Keefe, the former being Dex’s cousin and Marella’s second roommate who is constantly done with everyone’s shenanigans; Marella claims that Fitz, the actually responsible one, can never be bothered to do anything about their spontaneous endeavors most of the time. The latter, on the other hand, is the most mischievous of the bunch who Linh also knows the least about. His smiles and grins are the most abundant, but also the most weighted. Linh suspects there is a lot more to him than she’ll ever be able to fully grasp.

Linh’s surprised with how well she fits in with these people. They seem so much lighter and freer than her, a girl still tainted and chained down by the past and the experiences that came with it. They welcome her with open arms, and hours later, when dusk falls and it’s time for her to leave, the wrap her up in a hug and make her swear she’ll come back .She sinks into the hug, thinking that after knowing their light, she can’t possibly stay away.

Linh will forever owe all this new warmth in her life to Marella, who is perhaps the warmest of them all.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Fluffy blankets are good. Warm, cozy, comfortable, the kind of little thing in life that makes most people feel fuzzy feelings of nostalgia as they think back to the times they wrapped themselves up in warm blankets on the days they were feeling overwhelmed by the world, when they sat in messily-built blanket forts with their best friends and told scary stories during the devil’s hour with only a flashlight illuminating their evil grins, or the fights with their siblings to get the bigger portion of the blanket when they were forced to share a bed.

Unless that person is Linh, in which case all chances of that were stripped away by a pressured childhood where no room felt safe when her parents were near, friends were disapproved of, and anything that could knock the Song family from the top was discarded before either of the children could protest.

But whether it’s a childhood like Linh’s, or one where everything went perfectly, the fact can generally be agreed on: fluffy blankets are a good, good thing.

But Linh doesn’t think she was ever aware just how perfect fluffy blankets can be until they came piled in the arms of a blonde girl with tiny braids and green threaded through her waves at the door.

“Movie night?” Marella asks, wiggling a laptop in her other hand. “I noticed that you don’t have a TV yet.”

Linh lets her in, eager to spend more time with just her and especially eager to share another night with just the two of them. The idea of being in a dimly lit room wrapped in blankets with their bodies pressed together and only the light of a screen illuminating their faces doesn’t hurt either.

They curl up together on the couch without a second thought, as if they’ve been doing so all their lives. Linh adores the way Marella’s head fits in the crook of her neck like the last missing piece of a puzzle, and holds her breath as the blonde reaches across her and presses play on Netflix once they’ve settled.

When the girl falls asleep on Linh’s shoulder an hour later, she cuddles closer to the warmth of the fluffy blanket and her— crush, or love, maybe, she doesn’t know— pressing to her side.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

As nice of a distraction as Marella and her strange roommates can be in the months that pass, Linh has to come crashing back down to reality at some point. And crash she does, when the banging on her door at nine o’clock at night opens to the face she knows as well as her own.

Her brother, approaching her for the first time in years, bringing nothing but news of their father’s death.

Linh knows she should be feeling something. That she should be falling to her knees and sobbing dramatically, like a protagonist in a drama novel, or maybe grabbing his hands and begging him to tell her that it isn’t true. Instead, when Tam bears the news, all she can do is match his emotionless expression. After all, what is there to feel?

And why is she in such desperate need of comfort when, truth be told, she feels no suffering?

She can’t explain her mind’s twisted way of thinking, but she does know that it’s what leads her next door, and what pushes her to throw her arms around Marella’s neck when she comes to the door decked in pajamas and those long, irritating rainbow-striped socks that she loves so much.

Linh likes to believe that it’s her petty grudge against the annoying socks that makes her cry on Marella’s shoulder that night, but hiding from the truth isn’t as easy as she likes to believe.

And when Marella wraps her in a fuzzy blanket that rains tufts of fine fluff on their heads and pulls her in close, Linh has a hard time believing fluffy blankets aren’t the answer to all the world’s problems.

Confidence has finally come to her, and she’s able to give Tam a box of hair dye before he leaves. She doesn’t know if he’ll use it, or when she’ll see him again, but the smallest spark of light in his eyes when he takes the dye and turns it over in his hand is enough hope for her.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

When Marella appears at her door in the middle of the night this time, weeks since Linh’s father died and they last saw each other, Linh is surprised that she isn’t surprised. After all, surely there’s something seriously wrong if the only thing she says when someone comes knocking at her door at exactly three minutes past midnight is, “Did you bring the hair dye?”

She pulls the blonde inside softly, takes the fuzzy blanket still draped on her couch from their movie night, and wraps it around the girl’s shivering frame. Marella starts to sob on her shoulder. Her fingers wrap around Linh’s neck and latch onto her, bringing them both down to the carpet when her knees give. Linh immediately wraps an arm around her and holds her close.

Linh doesn’t know what’s wrong, but she does know that Marella is leaning on her for support, and she does know that she will always be here, for as long as the blonde might need.

When she finally stops crying and lets Linh reach gentle fingers to wipe her cheeks, and pulls out electric blue hair dye that brings a smile to both of their faces, Linh has a hard time believing that hair dye isn’t the cure for everyone’s sorrows.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Linh finds it funny that one can promise themselves one thing-- that they are going to try as hard as they can not to connect with others as a means of protecting themselves, for example-- but still end up breaking the promise if the right temptation crosses their path.

And her temptation? A certain blue-eyed blonde with now bright blue highlights who’s devious smirks and snarky words can snap Linh’s resolve in a second. She knows she should hate her for it, but surrounded by mischievous roommates with twinkling eyes and light smiles filled to the brim with warmth, she can’t help but snuggle closer to her weakness.

Her weakness, who is currently failing to dominate the board in a (not-so)friendly game of Christmas Monopoly. Marella informed her that it’s a holiday classic when she dragged her inside the house just an hour before, but judging by the rabid way the players are screaming at each other, Linh can’t say she agrees.

“What do you mean, the empire kind is the wrong kind?” Keefe screeches. “Duh, it’s easier!”

“For you, maybe! But it’s not the original!” Dex retorts.

Keefe jabs a finger at the board. “Then why are you still playing and why are you in second place?” He throws his hands up. “If you’re so mad about it, then stop playing and let the rest of us noncomplainers win.”

“Noncomplainers isn’t a word, Keefe,” Fitz says, idly shuffling the assortment of multi-colored money laid out in front of him. As banker, he’s the calmest and least angry of the bunch, though there’s something oddly menacing about the way he rearranges his money with careful, poised fingers.

Keefe, Dex, and Fitz are circled around the board, all nursing mugs of hot cocoa(which Linh has realized is a sort of trademark for them) in between bouts of shrieking, while Sophie left a little while ago to buy original Monopoly just in case Keefe and Dex destroy the board. Linh laughed when the exasperated blonde said it, but now she can see why it’s a legitimate concern.

Linh curls her cold feet in from her position on the long couch, and Marella automatically shifts the fluffy blanket they’re sharing to fully cover her toes again. Linh smiles up at her gratefully, and Marella offers a small smirk back. Then she goes right back to screaming. Linh debates calling Sophie and asking her to bring back ear plugs too.

“Whatever,” Biana scoffs. “You’re all sore losers.”

She is currently winning, as she has been for the entire game, and she glares down at the boys huddling around the game board from her perch in one of the armchairs.

And on it goes. At the end of the night, when Monopoly money is scattered on the floor and a smoking dinner that’s just a bit too salty is shared and hastily wrapped presents tied with glittery bows are exchanged(Marella is too impatient to wait for Christmas morning), Linh finds herself full of more love and joy than she thinks she ever has been in her entire life. There’s something oddly comforting about being with people who care for and accept her, even if it’s by default or association. Having someone who cares is a rare light in her life that most people take for granted.

Especially when there’s the smallest chance that the person who truly holds her heart returns her feelings.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

It’s the night before Christmas and Linh can’t sleep.

It’s the tossing and turning type of ‘can’t sleep’, the kind where Linh lies awake long after dark waiting for her mind and conscience to stop running around in circles around her head, the kind where her insecurities grow claws and fangs and sink them in skin-deep, where there is no light slipping through the cracks to keep them at bay.

And Linh hates that kind of ‘can’t sleep’.

It makes her antsy, on edge, and the urge to pace itches at her feet. The unfamiliar surface of the floor of Marella’s bedroom only makes matters worse, and as softly as she tries to twist under the thin covers, it doesn’t take long for the rustling on the floor to alert the blonde girl dozing off above her.

Marella slides to the floor sleepily before Linh can whisper a protest and lands next to her on the mattress with a grunt. Linh rolls over to face her, and is startled by how close their faces are. She can count the light freckles on Marella’s nose and cheeks when she’s this close. Moonlight is streaming into the room through the cracks in the shutters of the window, painting streaks of glowing white on the blonde’s face. She always looks beautiful, but Linh finds there’s something especially intimate about her in this moment. The air is suddenly buzzing with palpable tension, making her palms go slick with sweat and her mind hyper-aware of every movement. She can’t take her eyes off Marella.

Then, girl of Linh’s dreams breaks the stillness, leaning forward and pressing soft, sleepy lips to her own.

She’s asleep by the time she draws away, but Linh is shaking with adrenaline. It’s the moment she’s waited for so long she can hardly think of a time where she didn’t want the blonde.

And yet.

Linh’s the kind of girl with baggage, with the kind of ‘skeletons in the closet’ that people run away screaming from, not because it’s scary, but because it’s messy. Complicated. It bogs everyone who knows down, making every action in her presence laborious and painful with the knowledge of her past. Even her brother, who once promised to be by her side forever, wouldn’t stay.

She knows it’s irrational, but suddenly she can’t imagine how to face Marella.

She slips out of the apartment in the early hours of the morning so Marella’s blue gaze can’t stop her from running away. But despite her misgivings, the insecurities that still haven’t retracted their claws, and the voice in the back of her head whispering that she has to have imagined it, Linh can’t stop touching a finger to her lips, long after she’s left the buzzing moonlit atmosphere that allows slips of self control under the cover of night.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

It’s been weeks. Three weeks and five days, to be exact, and Linh still can’t figure out how to face her.

With every day that passes, she can feel the strong bonds they formed weakening. That’s one thing about relationships. They need an equal amount of effort. If Linh doesn’t put in enough, the object of her affection slips between her fingers before she can blink. That’s how she lost her brother, her friends, and any last semblance she might have had of “family”.

That is, until Marella.

She was persistent, even in the beginning, fighting to spend more and more time with a mildly resistant Linh, until she found it impossible to stay away. Her light is unlike any Linh has ever known, wild and fluid like an eternal flame that can’t be doused. That flame kept Linh alive for all these months, and yet here she is, ignoring it. Maybe even putting it through pain.

It takes a month, but it finally comes to her.

She realizes now that love isn’t something that affects only her, and that she isn’t the only one to win or lose in it. She isn’t the only person in love.

Love is two people, three people, ten people, a hundred people. Love is everyone who forces themselves into her life with the intent of staying no matter how dark it gets. Love is the flickers of light in the night and the bold streaks of sun in the morning. Love is the twinkling stars splattered across a purple painted sky.

Love is illumination. Love is clarity. Love is a path paved special, with different twists and turns for everyone.

Love is...

Marella.

Love is Marella.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Weeks of radio silence after months of talking nonstop is hard to bounce back from, and they both know this well.

But Linh comes back anyway. She comes knocking on Marella’s door exactly a month after they last talked, this time she being the one to approach at random in the middle of the night. When the door opens and she smiles apologetically, pressing a butterfly kiss to Marella’s forehead and pushing a big blanket and a bright, eye-melting color of hair dye into her arms in a silent apology, all Marella does is smile and pull her back in for a real, proper kiss.

Yeah, neon green and fluffy blankets are the solution to everything.

#i did a thing #well this was fun #kotlc #kotlc au #marella redek #linh song #marellinh #the amount of times i wrote 'marellinh' instead of marella is ridiculous #i refuse to go through and edit this again #skyyyy'swriting

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