#((just. lemme have something bittersweet ;w; )) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ficsnroses · 3 years ago

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— 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑶𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝑩𝒆 𝑺𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑻𝒐.

—𝑳𝒂𝒍𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒂 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓—

prompt: lalo hasn’t come home well into the night, leaving you worried. when he does arrive, you find it tough to let each other go.

warnings: lots of fluff, angst. brief sm(u)t mention. 3.3k words.

notes: sigh. gotta love two idiots in love. anyway, hope you enjoy! gif credit: (x)

a/n: if you’d like to see more Lalo fics, feedback much appreciated to lemme know. there is very minimal dialogue in this piece, I hope I was able to execute their thought processes adequately. enjoy! (also, I apologize if the Spanish is incorrect, google translate was used).

title creds: everything i write uses a hozier lyric at this point lmao.

You don’t become acquainted with the cartel by choice.

No one sane enough would.

You’d heard the sentiment often. The devil is in the details.

You knew of the Salamanca name.

The first time you’d met him, his eyes sparkled with life and he’d grinned broadly. You’d ignored the shiver down your spine that whispered ever so delicately how this wasn’t a man smiling at you, but a predator baring teeth at its prey.

You’d ignored it, nonetheless. And then it never came again.

Lalo Salamanca became for you a what the sun is to the moon.

He cannot run from what he is—what he was born into. Cannot dispose of the very blood that electrifies through each lively course of his veins.

But you?

You’d drowned willingly.

And perhaps, there is some rotten thing inside you, too. For holding the devil’s hand so tenderly. Funny that— the tightness of that grip made you think that your hand would never be only yours ever again.

Something inside you whispered that you will burn. And there will be no relief.

Not for a long time.

The pangs of longing, of regret that cut through your chest are sharp; nearly acidic.

2:53am.

He always calls, always reaches out to let you know he’ll be home soon.

The bubble of uneasiness that had been smouldering inside your chest all day had finally seemed to boil over. By the time you’d paced the corridor of your shared home a little over a million times, an onslaught of gentle tears had finally begun to escape and you were in desperate need of a steadying breath. Your heart had begun to beat just a few beats too fast.

You knew the Salamanca name, and everything it entailed.

It could all come crumbling down in a mere second.

Just one, measly second. After which all you’d be left with was little flickers of him in your home. The lingering sound of that rich laughter that rolls up from his chest, the songs he’d hum for you buried in the walls. The smell of him on your pillow, and they very shell of you cold, because it would no longer be warmed by his.

It’s a funny thing, damnation. How some are destined for it, how some fall into its arms willingly.

A knot forms in your chest. Your eyes squeeze shut and you breathe in deeply, trying to push each bitter thought out your head. Lock yourself away from it. Push back the way his words are an anthem in your heart.

They pierce through you. To the very marrow and back.

‘I won’t go anywhere, cariño. No sin ti.’

Most people fear damnation.

You tug on a memory. A memory of Chihuahua night sky, a dark room, and hands cupping cheeks. The heat of them on his skin—a blessing and a curse all in one because you can hardly live without that touch now. Callous hands gentle on your back as he kisses and claims, the bittersweet, almost nostalgic tang of cognac on his tongue. The warmth of soft, caring lips against your forehead followed by a tentative, faint murmur into your hair.

It’s a funny thing, damnation.

And perhaps, you are damned. And maybe, nothing is much of a sacrifice when part of you wanted to stay from the start. With him.

Some people call him a sin. An angel of death, a wicked fool. Effortlessly foul, a curse that easily lights up the room.

Not you. Never you. You have reached the deepest parts of him, the suppleness buried underneath a frighteningly sharp exterior. Those closest to him know all too well. Lalo Salamanca is warm.

Cold eyes, warm hands. And a warmer heart, if you could get to it.

He will burn castles for the ones closest to his heart. You do not believe in fate. You do not believe in destiny, either. But then he’d came.

Destructive, big, bold, beautiful, and you’re forced to reconsider everything.

He is a mountain of a man and he is yours. And you don’t remember when every part of you had become his.

You tried not to keep track of time.

It made it easier.

You pace the corridor a little more, the gnaw inside painful and raw, ripping through your chest. Blinking twice, your expression slackens as a pair of fresh, noiseless tears roll down your cheeks. You feel heavy and worn in the worst way possible— the kind that makes one slow and vulnerable. Worry splits you apart and suffocates you with every breath, so much so, that you had barely registered the click of the front door when it opens slow with a creak.

Its not long before you breathe a soul deep, gut wrenching sigh of relief. Your eyes close as your chest fills, and you waste no time in hastening his way. The distance between you two is cut in just a few rushed steps, tears welling in your eyes anew.

And suddenly, everything feels as if a ripple in the very movement of time itself.

He sees the look of distress on your face, the way you breathe a pained breath that rattles in your lungs.

A pair of arms curl around you like irons. The powerful ripple of his chest and arm muscles melt against your body and you sigh, burying your face into his frame with a weary exhale. The warmth of his skin sinks into you and seems to revive you to the bone, and you cling to him softly with your cheek pressed tightly to his chest, close enough to hear the subtle beat of his heart.

And you keep it there.

Quietly listening as your drowsy limbs and fatigued mind register the feat. He is home. Right where he belongs.

It’s a funny thing. How you knew what those hands were capable of.

They’d killed before, and you knew how dangerous they were— how dangerous he was. But Lalo touches you with care; tense and careful as he wraps you in his arms, expression contouring with every small weep you’d let out.

He could tell you were executing your greatest attempts to halt your distress—to quiet your ever so small weeps, so quiet that he could hardly hear them. But sense them, he did.

And they withered something inside him.

Lalo’s voice is calm, baritone vibrating against you as he quietly whispers into your silky tresses, leaving a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “Hey, Princesa.”

You smile mildly for the first time today to those words, still listening to the sound of his beating heart. Pressing closer to him, you breathe softly at the sensation of his nose brushing against the gentle curve of your neck as he rests his head there, moulding into you so easily, so familiarly. Your skin tingles where his fingertips stroke, and you arch into his touch with a tight swallow.

Lalo’s eyes slip shut, and you both simply savour the moment.

No words are needed, no tender confessions or difficult details. Your fingers sink into his thick salt and pepper hair and you shift yourself closer.

It’s an amusing thing, damnation.

Reflecting on the paths we take.

Maybe he didn’t deserve this. But he wanted it, anyway.

So he nuzzles into you further, smells your hair a little deeper. Remembers the way there is a subtle chill in the AM air, but your embrace is warm nonetheless. So warm, that for one, irrational second he wishes to never let you go at all.

He longs to stay suspended in this moment, cocooned by your warmth and the quiet lull of the night.

A part of you almost feels upset when he pulls away slightly, but it is replaced with something tender not too long thereafter, when you feel Lalo’s larger hands cup your face delicately.

Lalo Salamanca has always been a man of minimal sentiment shown. Stoic, frighteningly efficient in emotionless conduct. Understanding what was going on inside that clever head of his would always prove to be a challenge. And he liked it that way.

Salamancas protect their interests.

Only with you would that startling exterior thaw slightly. Only ever you. But even then, it surely still did prove difficult for Lalo to allow the indulgence willingly.

There was something in those eyes that made you ache for him. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on, despite your greatest attempts to smother it.

His expression remains patient, stoical when his eyes look into yours, and in them, he sees raw, honest pain brewing. He observes you thoughtfully, eyes glossing into you as if he is carefully trying to calculating why you would be so startled, to the point of waterworks for a sinner like him.

As if his own mind could simply not comprehend the weight of what you feel for him. Despite the fact that he feels the exact same measure for you, if not more. He simply cannot understand how someone like you could fear so endlessly for someone like him.

A long pause.

Then, your fractured whisper. “I…”

He doesn’t answer. Only his slow, steady breaths do and his patient eyes scanning your features. Your beautiful, soft features he has come to adore far more than he’d care to admit to the world.

He doesn’t answer. Not until his warm fingers brush against your skin, the pad of his thumb lovingly skimmed under your eye, wiping a rogue tear.

And when he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, you seem to crumble right beneath his touch.

And suddenly, you realize. That you can be homesick for people, too.

“I…I got so…” you note quietly, trailing off, and Lalo notices the sad break in your voice. There is a part of him that almost tells himself he is better off not knowing.

But.

“I just got a little scared, when I didn’t hear from you.”

Your voice is a mere breath that seals the space between you, and suddenly, a million little things burn at the back of his throat. This man— this wicked, soft, immoral, fascinating man wants to say so much and yet—

What could he possibly say?

What string of carefully calculated words could possibly do this— you, justice?

It’s a funny thing, damnation.

He hadn’t feared it his entire life. It was all part of the grand scheme of things. A mere landmark in the cycle.

He knew he didn’t deserve this. But he wanted it. He wanted it so badly, anyway.

He could never do it justice. Not if he tried with everything he’d had. And it was a tough predicament to admit— that he could spend the rest of his life doing nothing but good, nothing but saints work and still be unworthy of you.

Perhaps it is a curse.

A beautiful, unjust, painstaking curse.

Perhaps you are both destined for it. Lalo had realized a bitter truth long ago.

He loves you.

Lalo Salamanca loves you.

Love, love, love. A foolish sentiment. A sickness. A weakness. A blessing.

He fears it will become all he knows or cares about because it is the very best of him. The part of himself that he likes the best. It had been that way for a while now. The mounting, growing dream of a future with you by his side. The desire to build a life with you, to melt into you so deep that he forgets the taste of his very own name.

Casting your eyes down, you’d endeavoured to swallow the lump in your throat, trying to force casualness into your tone. It was then, that his work tethered hand softly lifts yours, his fingers lacing comfortably warm around it, and he lays a heartfelt, gentle kiss to the back of it.

You tried not to focus on the heat of his lips, or the scratch of his facial hair when it brushed against your skin. And especially not the way you’d watched his eyes slip shut when he’d done it. Even, if only briefly. As if the feeling of your supple skin against his lips was the only one he’d ever wanted.

And then, he rests your still entwined hand over the earnest flesh of his beating heart, eyes never falling off you. The weight of Lalo’s hand on top of yours is nearly electrifying; and through the weight of his stare into your very own, you feel the gesture more of a statement than a mere action. His eyes burn with certainty and a thousand nameless things.

A pleasant shiver races down your spine at his nearness, at his touch, and you revive when his eyes slowly trace over your features.

His hand lightly squeezes yours, and you seem to melt for him in the very moment. The way his eyes read into you, the way his unyielding embrace around you feels like more of a home than any other one you’ve known.

This, his hand over yours on his beating heart was his way of saying it. I’m here. I made it home.

It all comes rushing back. The very words you hold nearest to your heart.

‘I won’t go anywhere, cariño. No sin ti.’

Something used to scratch from under your skin. Something indescribable, something you hadn’t been able to pinpoint despite your greatest attempts to identify it. From the start of it all, Lalo had always been kind to you. Charming, effortlessly pleasant. You relished his often biting sense of humour, too, even.

Still, you’d been dreadfully aware of the penance that comes with him. The blood on his fingertips, the hold of the cartel that will refuse to let one of their best men go. His very own family name, a damnation of its own.

But there had always been something inside you that refused to part from him. The gravitational pull he had on you had become harder and harder to dethatch yourself from day by day— because some part of you didn’t want to let him go.

And it wasn’t until today. In the cold linger of the day’s chill, through the uncertain feat of his whereabouts. Today’s events had spoke to you once and for all.

You are unwilling to be parted from him. A simple truth, one you had happily dedicated yourself to the moment you’d seen him walk through the door. A part of you had whispered delicately in your ear all day, buried, raw thoughts scratched their way to the surface through each uneasy breath.

A part that selfishly wonders.

What kind of existence would it be without him?

If the soft pad of his thumb never brushed lovingly against the apple of your cheek again? If you’d never felt the way his lips curve into a smile, between the juncture of your neck when he’d embrace you? If you’d never feel the tingle of your name being whispered by that low, silky voice?

If he’d never made love to you again?

His smooth voice tears through your thoughts. Lalo’s thumb coaxes over the soft skin of your inner wrist, and you realize that neither you or Lalo had been able to take your eyes off each other the entire time. You’d both been sinking into one another, so deep, finding it tough to look away.

As if you both feared the other would disappear. As if you both feared that if you looked away for too long, this dream in front of you, that you both often feared you might have just simply conjured up, might just disappear.

“Join me in the shower?” he voices quietly, composed and calm.

Damnation.

Perhaps, a curse. A carefully measured calculation by the very universe you were made in.

It’ll all go the same. A routine, a tune you’ve played a thousand little times. He’ll try to crack a joke or two to distract you, shift your focus elsewhere, anywhere away from this heartbreak.

Because perhaps, he needs it too. It feels far too much as if he is trying to swallow down his own heart.

Sometimes, he’ll catch you looking at him. With those eyes of yours— those beautiful, loving, thoughtful eyes of yours that whisper to the very marrow of him. I’ll follow you anywhere.

And sometimes— too often, even, it terrifies him how easy that assertion of yours is to believe.

His life had always been just that. His. His to gamble, his to decay. But perhaps now, it belongs to someone else, too.

Someone good, someone great. Someone magical.

Your lips gently curve upwards into a small smile, and you bring the gentle arch of your hand to press to his skin, cupping his cheek. He savours that sight, locks it away in the deepest pits of him where he will keep it forever. You, with your easy smiles and kind eyes.

His personal sun.

You have easily hid your once prominent sorrow. Masked it away. “I’ll grab us some towels.”

It feels worryingly nice to know he is the source of that subtle joy that grows on your pink stained lips. And worse, to remember that he was the cause of tears that brewed in its place before it.

To remember that maybe, this is all he will ever be to you. A harmony of sorrow and joy. The source of pain but also the antidote.

And he wonders.

Is this punishment, then?

The penance he is damned to pay?

Your fingers are slow, careful, oh so gentle— when you soothe them along his temple lovingly, sweeping a stray hair away. It’s brief, none more than a flickering brush of softness and warmth alongside his rugged skin. And it was then that Lalo realized just how tightly his tense arms had been enveloped around you. The smell of your perfume lingers in his senses, something sweet, something so uniquely you. The way the rise and fall of your small breaths against him had felt so routine, as if they had always been destined to accompany his. Everything about this moment—the smell of your dewy skin pecked with flowers, the gentleness of your movement. It all gets committed to his memory.

Some part of him whispers from deep within.

Let her go, you fool. Let her find her peace. Let her be happy. She deserves someone good. Someone clean.

And he realizes another bitter truth. He can’t.

It is damnation.

To see the dread in your eyes each time he comes home like this. To watch you relive your very own, terrible nightmare. Again and again and again. Lalo knows he will never be free. Not from the cartel, not from his family name. And he does not want to be, either.

The same way in which you hold an unwillingness to be parted from him.

They say the devil is in the details.

A curse, even. To begin to love so fiercely. To have and to hold, but not without knowing that he is a thorn that bruises the very paradise that is you. To know that he is slowly becoming a completely smitten fool for you. To know that each time you part, he watches you walk away and every step feels painful, leaves him feeling bruised and raw even though it shouldn’t.

You are the weakness the devil himself did not have planned.

There is a lull of silence, your bodies still entwined together. It’s a unique type of heartbreak—one you can’t do anything about. The type that bubbles, silently simmering underneath the surface— quiet, nonetheless, always there.

Perhaps you were both destined for a path of destruction from the start.

And it is true.

Maybe he doesn’t deserve you. But he wants you, anyway. Only you.

You will hold him tighter tonight. And he’ll hold you, too. And you’ll promise yourself a million little times, and him too, that you will never leave his side.

His heart is yours to protect now.

Maybe he,

is the kind of damnation you don’t mind.

woohoo!! you made it! gotta love some soft! lalo content. i’m sure he has a human side buried under all that monstrosity (or...not). please let me know if you enjoyed, and maybe I’ll write another :)

#lalo salamanca x reader #lalo salamanca imagine #lalo salamanca fanfiction #Tony Dalton #lalo salamanca #better call saul #better call saul imagines #better call saul x reader

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toshilove · 2 years ago

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okay i need to rant about this bc this is still eating me alive even though i already yelled about this to my friends who also read the manga. I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS, OKAY?

before, lemme just preface by saying i still love tokyo revengers. it has become one of my favorite anime from starting it last year and even more so after starting the manga. the storytelling, the depth of each character, and what they’ve gone through made me fall in love with the series. HOWEVER…

*TOKYO REVENGERS MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD*

like many readers, i, too, am really disappointed with this ending. it’s not so because everything was reset and everyone is happy now, it’s just the way it was told really made the series fall off. it was wayyy too fucking rushed and each outcome was so surface-leveled. i wouldn’t have mind this ending had they extended the series for several more chapters so we can see how everything unfolded. we literally got 3 time skips in one chapter—one panel showing toman forming and then the next is them disbanding ??? and in between, somehow all the antagonists are now good and joined toman as well ??? WHY AND HOW ARE KISAKI AND TAKEMICHI BESTIES NOW ??? WAS IZANA ABLE TO FIND SHIN AND BE ADOPTED INTO THE SANO FAMILY ???

so much was happening so fast and instead of having previous questions answered, it just spilled out more questions. in fact, are the problems that are outside of maitake and toman just solved now?? like did taiju stop abusing his siblings ?? was there ever a fire in inui’s and akane’s house ?? it really makes no sense how all of these characters’ trauma magically disappeared because everything was reset. i mean, sentimentally, i could see how this gives everyone, especially the antagonists, a second chance, and everyone who has passed are now alive. however, erasing all the shit they’ve been through also kinda erases their character development too. a common theme in this series is how these people cope with whatever trauma they’re going through—good or bad. and in a way, these mindsets or actions can resonate with the readers who may be going through something similar. i mean, that’s how i know i’m a mikey kinnie LMAOOO. but yeah, taking away what made these characters just makes them…bland. their experiences made it seem meaningless if it was going to be reset anyway.

the way the manga was heading i thought it was gonna be a bittersweet ending. and honestly, as painful as that may be, it would’ve been more satisfying. i had a feeling takemichi would die in order to fix everything, but i thought the timeline would reset back to the beginning: him at the train station and have it in a loop yk? OR somehow he does revive everyone, mikey is now stable, everything works out, but takemichi would no longer be by his side and no one would no longer have any memory of him (basically like the spiderman 3 ending lol). something along the lines of those examples would be a more realistic ending, especially since the essence of tokrev is time travel. we all know w time travel, there’s always a cause and effect. there’s always some sort of sacrifice in order to restore something. in fact, we’ve seen it in the manga when toman disbanded for the first time. and mayhaps a bittersweet ending could have themes of fate and destiny. everyone can’t be saved, and that’s just that. “we won but at what cost” vibes fr.

now idk what’s going on behind the scenes; if wakui really meant to end it later but had to rush it because of conflicts with the editing/publishing team, or if he just really wanted this manga to be over already. either way, i still really enjoyed this series overall despite the bad ending. maybe the anime will no longer follow the manga towards the end and change it (we all know how cursed that decision is, but maybe it’ll be for the better 💀)

hopefully i made some sort of sense, i was really word vomiting AHDJSKDKS

#🌙; luna.rambles #tokyo revengers manga #tokyo revengers chapter 277 #tr ch 277

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gamerwoo · 4 years ago

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Hongseok: Bittersweet (part 3 -- mommy hui)

Summary: You were looking for a sugar daddy to make more money. Hongseok was looking for a sugar baby to get his friends off his back. But once you find out what he’s using you for, you don’t want anything to do with him. Unfortunately, you love his money more than you hate him.

a/n: timestamps don’t matter!!! i also have no idea what like decent prices are for this shit so just roll w me here lmao

Previous | Next | Bittersweet Masterlist

ೋღ ────────────── ღೋ

Of course Hongseok wasn’t actually going to get a girlfriend. Luckily for him, he was not only handsome, but also smart. He quickly came up with the idea that he could simply just make his friends think he got a girlfriend so they’d get off his back. But he also knew he didn’t have any friends who were women who would agree to help, and he knew any girl he had spoken to previously would just tell him to go fuck himself if he asked any of them -- and there was no way in hell he’d let any of those girls think they were actually his girlfriend. He needed to find a way to get a girl to go on dates with him while still making sure no romantic lines were crossed.

Again, Hongseok was a smart man, and he had money to spare, so his plan didn’t take long to come up with.

He wanted to get some assistance with his plan, but he had nobody he could tell. Hui and Jinho couldn’t know for obvious reasons, Wooseok, Shinwon and Yanan would just tell everyone else to get him in trouble, Changgu probably wouldn’t listen anyway, and Kino and Yuto were a no-go because they’d just be disappointed in him and would probably eventually let it slip to everyone else. This was something he’d just have to do on his own.

Hongseok searched up a few sugar daddy websites before picking one he found to be the most reliable and least sketchy. This one seemed to have better options, stronger background checks, and overall just seemed to be the safest bet. So he made a profile under sugar daddy and waited for a message or whatever.

It didn’t take long for him to get some inquiries, but he didn’t like any of them. They either weren’t his type or were interested in things he wasn’t looking for. Or they just came on too strong, which was automatically a no from him. He wanted someone he’d consider ‘normal’. Basically wasn’t overly-sexual, was just looking to go on a few ‘dates’ or whatever, and wouldn’t actually call him daddy. But they also had to be someone he’d consider cute or good looking, and it seemed like those two things he was looking for didn’t come hand-in-hand.

At least, not until he got one message around 7:30pm a few days after making the account. He was just hanging out in his apartment and doing what he usually did when he had finished his classes. Then he saw the email notification come up that he had a message from the sugar daddy website, so he went over to his laptop and opened the tab he left.

snflwr: hi!! um i don’t know how to really start this but my name is _____. i feel weird saying i’m interested in like your profile and stuff but i guess that’s basically what it is. uhhhhh yeah lmao i’m sorry i’ve never done stuff like this before

It honestly seemed to be the most normal message he’d gotten. Every other girl was always very straight-forward, but this one seemed to come from someone who was nervous and unsure about what to say. Somehow, he liked that over the overly-confident ones.

He clicked on the little circle for the profile picture to make it pop up on his screen. Not everyone used photos of themselves -- most of the sugar daddies did for obvious reasons, but not a lot of the sugar babies did -- but he always just asked for selfies if that were the case. In this case, the one he was looking at was a photo of their lips.

He went to the profile and read over it. _____ _____, 2 years younger than him, lived in the same area, liked to play video games, and was just looking for someone to spend time with. So far, so good. But it was still such little information that he still couldn’t tell if this person would be normal or not.

yanghong: That’s okay, I’m new to the sugar daddy thing as well lol. Do you mind if I see a photo of you first?

The photo that was sent was at least pleasing to look at. He thought the girl was very cute, actually, but he still had to be positive it was actually her. He could easily be catfished. He wasn’t stupid.

snflwr: can you also prove that’s you in the pfp? lmao

snflwr: no offense but i wouldn’t put it by some old dude to use a younger good looking guy w a six pack to catfish women

Hongseok couldn’t help but chuckle at that. She was funny, too. That was good.

yanghong: Would you want to Facetime? That would definitely prove we’re who we say we are.

It took longer than before for snflwr to reply, but he eventually just got a ‘sure’, followed by her information to contact her. He grabbed his phone to start the call before another message popped up.

snflwr: i’ll be honest, i’m really nervous, so my friend is gonna talk to you first. so like don’t hang up when you see a dude answer lmao that’s not me

Hongseok had to admit, that seemed just a little sus, but sure. So he started the Facetime call and waited.

Sure enough, when they picked up, there was a guy with a black baseball cap on, his blonde hair peeking out through the sides.

“Oh damn, it is him,” he chuckled, looking off camera before looking back at Hongseok. “I’m ______’s friend, Soonyoung. I wanted to make sure you were legit first. She’s...well, she’s shy.”

“But she’s looking for a sugar daddy?” Hongseok chuckled. “Why would she want to go hang out with a stranger if she’s shy.”

Soonyoung just shrugged, “Can’t be too picky in this economy.”

“Lemme see!” another male voice called before a second boy popped his head in frame. This one had cotton-candy-blue hair, and was wearing a brown visor with the name of a local cafe embroidered on it. “Whoa, you are real. I really had my money on you being a creepy old guy.”

“Okay, well now that you know I’m legit,” Hongseok began, “can I actually see that _____ is?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Soonyoung replied before handing the phone over.

Hongseok only saw a few empty tables in the cafe before he suddenly saw your face on screen, your eyes still looking up at the two boys from where you sat. You were laughing a little timidly at someone one of them was doing behind the phone before your eyes settled on the screen.

Thank god, it was the same girl that was in the photo.

“Hi, sorry about that,” you said. Your voice wasn’t necessarily what he expected, but it wasn’t like it was anything bad. It was just...normal. Nothing annoying to listen to or anything. “But uh, yeah. I’m real.”

“Good,” he chuckled. “So tell me a little more about yourself. What do you do for work?”

“Technically, I’m a streamer,” you shrugged, “but it’s only because I’m a full-time student. But obviously it’s not making a lot of money since I’m here doing this.”

Hongseok laughed, “Yeah, I don’t even have a job right now. My parents just make a lot of money, and I’m supposed to take over for my dad when he retires. I’m also a full-time student.”

Neither of you decided to ask where the other went to college because that seemed too personal, especially considering what your arrangement was -- well, hopefully would be.

“So you’re just looking to spend time together?” Hongseok checked. “Not offering anything more?”

“Nope,” you replied. “I don’t really want to do any of the stereotypical stuff you hear about. I’m not...comfortable with that, if that’s okay.”

“That’s perfectly okay,” he nodded. “So...I guess we should talk about how it would all work out then?”

“Yeah, what’s the deal?”

What Hongseok was looking for was proof. Proof that he had a girlfriend, so he needed to make it seem like he did. Going out on dates, texting, stuff like that. Stuff where he could give photo evidence that you existed if his friends asked.

“Just go out with me like, once a week if your schedule allows it,” he explained. “You don’t have to call me or anything, but some texts would be appreciated. You don’t have to talk to me everyday, but don’t just like, ignore me for a week, y’know?”

You shrugged with a nod, “That seems reasonable. I’m down.”

“Okay, so we should talk money, then,” he chuckled. “I was thinking like, $800 a week -- assuming we do go out every week -- and I’ll pay for all of the dates on top of that. Otherwise, just $300 for talking to me every week. Sound fair?”

For a second, he thought he lost connection because you were just frozen on screen. $800 a week? That seemed too good to be true to you.

“U-um, yeah,” you stammered finally, making Hongseok smirk. “That sounds good.”

Perfect.

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saintobio · 4 years ago

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Before I could start my rant lemme just cry and scream,,,,*ugly crying and screaming*😫😭🗣 wahhh!!

I knew for the first time I saw Daishou I knew that motherfucker is nasty! I knew it!! Like of all the people to hit on why Iwa's girl, getting cheated by a girl shouldn't affect him that much 'cause men have huge ego, they would definitely forgot her or something but nahhh!! From the start, for mee that smells fishy!!!

AND!! the newest chapter is GOLD!!!

Iwa-chan got me feeling confused and loved and guilt and pain and wholesome and when he mentions us having a ❗❗FAMILY❗❗ had me surrendering🏳😫 I wanna save that animated man!!

Let's not forget that KAGEYAMA FUCKING TOBIO kissed us!!! That kind of shits got meee cutting me off , kissing me all of the sudden to end something!!! 😫😫 yesss babyyy come heree!!(Please don't hurt himmm Author-chan!! I beg of youu!!😭 or maybe like in the middle of the fight they would stop 'cause of Y/n,, Onagaiii!!!😭😫) He's my babyyy🥺❤

I got a feeling things will be more bumpy and finally!!! We found out that motherfucking illegal gun dealing bastard!! I don't know anymore but yess!!

Ahh yess cliffhangers can't be a perfect story without 'em.😩

All in all I'm a mess!! Good job at messing me up I can say I'm one of your new followers and I think I should get to being a mess Huhuhuhu😫

You said that it's a bittersweet storyy soo you better be sure to fucking give us that tooth aching sweetness after making us feel like hell!! Please hehehe😙❤love youu babee!! This story is 🥇🏅🏆 I ahh forget it byee!—💩

going to cry bc this made me happy !! i love it when u guys get so invested i just feel so 💗💕💝💓💞💘💖 thank you for writing ur feelings for the whole chapter bby i’m in love w u

(ur theory abt daishou is right 😝)

#tobiochans.asks #series.ufc #part 8

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knoxhq · 5 years ago

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► ( rudy pankow & cis male ) according to the school’s records, knox drury is a 22-YEAR-OLD senior studying political science, and he lives over in moriarty. he is a gemini, so that must be why others describe him as dignified, humorous, cowardly and naive. when i see him, i’m reminded of walking into class an hour late with sunglasses on, the feeling of anticipation as you wait for a firework to fully blossom, the sound of party music leaking through the walls of a bathroom. ( gibby, 20, they/them, est. ) ◄

hello everyone !! so i won’t even lie to u guys, i am NERVOUS and it’s literally only bc this is the first group i’ve joined in so long like dfdhkjsfjad the last group i was in was almost a year ago but i ended up having to leave due to personal reasons and didn’t get to write so like !!! idk i’m excited !! anyways w that in mind, pls bARE with me bc i have like one (1) braincell and i forgot how to write intros. anyways enough of me rambling, lemme give you knox !!

also this is a bad intro pls dont judge me im trying 2 like. rewrite what i had b4 the storm took it out n like, i lost the braincell

basics.

full name: knox hale drury.

nicknames: drury.

age: twenty two.

gender and pronouns: cis male and he/him

sexual & romantic orientations: bisexual, biromantic, femme leaning.

major: political science.

housing: moriarty.

backstory.

triggers: implied bullying, police and incarceration ( dw i didn’t make him jj 2.0 ).

nobody gets to pick their beginnings. it’s something that people tell knox all the time, hell, it’s plastered in every stupid coming of age movie, book, film, everything he’s ever seen. you don’t pick who your born into, you don’t pick who you get to be. and to an extent, he does think that this is true but he can’t help but wonder if maybe, if people could pick, if they’d pick differently. because he knows he certainly would pick differently.

it’s not that he even came from a bad home - hell no, he had the most loving family ever. his mother was a saint, a warm sensation bubbling up in his chest when he thinks about her warm cookies or the way she tried to still tuck him in even as a teenager. his father had his flaws, we all do, but he was a good and honest man. hardworking, he showed knox what that stupid american dream is that everyone likes to preach about.

no, it had nothing to do with them but rather the overall opinion on him and his family. see, the drury’s weren’t well liked - they were seen as lowlives and as shady, the kind of people who you’d only go to if you wanted to get stabbed in the back. generations of drury’s fit this narrative but no, his father was determined to change that. and so was he, even if nobody around him seemed to want to give him a chance.

knox would go throughout school with this name attached to him like a dagger to his throat - whisperings in the hallway of, “oh, my mom said the drury boy might be steal things if you let him over,” and other random, rude remarks. of course, the people that get close to him know better - they see him for who he really is.

that person is knox. he’s a golden light, often more selfless than the rich pricks who run that small town. he’d give his jacket or umbrella to people even if they didn’t ask if it just so happened to be raining outside, and despite the fact that his family didn’t have a lot, he’d still go out of his way to try to give when he could.

he eventually graduated high school - one of the top people in his class due to his father’s encouragement, and after a lot of debate, settled on attending haddon university - miles away from that sweet, small little hometown he knew, but a fresh start where he didn’t have to work for anything. he could just go in being him, with nobody attaching a new narrative to him. it was what he wanted, what he dreamed of.

and he loved it. his first semester there was memorable as he found himself surrounded by new friends and people he even considered family. back home, however, things were slipping.

the drury family was never rich, ever by any means, but business was low. nobody wanted to go there, fearing that his father was just as shady as his grandfather. as things got worse, his father had to resort to other needs - stealing, lying about taxes, and doing everything he could to try to make it by.

it finally caught up to him when knox came home for spring break - red and blue lights flashing outside as loud noises went on throughout the house, until finally someone swung knox’s door open and briefly blinded him with a flashlight, demanding to know where his father was. by the time knox got a grasp on the situation, his father was being rushed off in the back of a cop car.

he plead guilty almost immediately and for the next few months, knox did school from home to stay with his mother. it was then that he switched his major from what had initially been just a vague, business degree to political science in hopes of going into law after getting that degree - a way of changing things, of helping people so they never got to that point.

for now though, he’s gone back to haddon’s campus where he study’s away and occasionally finds himself slipping and partying, glasses always covering his eyes as he slinks back class, getting almost nO sleep every night.

study.

so i need u to know right now... knox is baby, FDSHJDFSHAJK

like he’s not by any means like he’s kinda a gross dude like, absolutely randomly burps n is like lol oops n shit, very little manners, will grab clothes off of the floor to put them on kind of man BUT LIKE as a whole ?? he means very well FDSJFAHJ he’s very gentle and will sit there and admire flowers on a bush and then get mad if u pick one bc ur hurting it like. he’s baby.

he also is very loyal to the ppl he’s friends w tbh like. damn he will never leave ur side

that also makes him kinda... super, actually, naive. you see, while knox is incredibly loyal, he often finds himself ignoring signs of toxicity for the sake of preserving a friendship - he fights for people who won’t fight for him, he lets people back in too easily, he just. he sees the good in everyone, even if there isn’t any good.

regardless, he’s not easy to just... manipulate to an extent. while he’ll fall for you being innocent, you can’t ever try to make him think he’s something he’s not - he knows his intentions and he knows they’re usually pure and he’s not gonna fold for anyone if it comes down to him or them.

bt like again he’s baby

like i dont think he ever gets mad but damn when he does its probs scary as shit like bc he nEVER gets mad !!! hes like. a golden retriever ig

if u cannot tell im trying really hard not to make him too much like jj bc i realize that might be a big thing ppl do n i dont think jj is baby bt like. knox? knox is baby DSFHJKFDHKJ

he’s just. idk. he’s very protective and cares about his friends a lot and will walk you home even if you went to HIS place and like is always ready to give you a jacket if it’s raining and he’s just lowkey a big, kinda dumb at times, teddy bear and i think that’s valid tyvm

wanted connections.

friends. — please. knox will lOVE ur muses just let him be their friend tyvm plus he’s a bit of a social butterfly now and i think he’d honestly have a lot of friends.

best friend. — i’m gonna keep this to one muse bc idk i think it’d be really cute if knox got to have his own like, ride or die where they care abt him as much as he cares about them and they’re always there for each other and like !!! that’s cute !!! also found family trope bc i think that is.. again, kyoot, ty

frienemies. — so these are always like, super fun to plot out and i think there’s a lot to work w here... like give me ppl who are happy that knox is loyal and would defend them but would push knox to the side n not do the same for him... also friendships where knox fucked up ?? where knox, despite his goodness, couldn’t keep his mouth shut and revealed a secret to their friend group bc u see he can kinda be a gossip fsjfdaskj. idk there’s a lot u can do n i’d love to brainstorm!

enemies. — pls. like. we can brainstorm this too so i dont just ramble but pLEASE?? please.

flings. — honestly romantic ships are not the point of rps but romantic flings and stuff can be really fun to plot and i love getting soft about them so like ?? idk dude lets fling it up n have muses date for two weeks n then break up like thats swexi, dramatic, 10/10

exes. — i mean this is kind of like flings but i have an idea... give me an ex of knox’s who really was like. everything knox wanted. hell, the two had a really good relationship - they were in love and etc etc gushy details but they ended up breaking up bc they just. they weren’t meant to be! as sad as it is like it was as simple as that! and then the angst comes in after they break up bc god they still love each other so much but they just aren’t meant to be and they see them with other people and oh it just hurts but like, bonus points if they manage to become good friends even after this !! (sidenote, idk i wouldn’t want this to be a full ship tht gets back together bc idk i think there’s a bittersweetness in stuff like this n its just. like. its ok !!! idk !!! )

roommates. — and they were roomates- fdshjkfdsahjk

other things. — honestly these are half assed plots but i’m down for anything !!! i’m still fleshing out knox a lil too bc i really did make him on the spot so pls bare w me :)

#had:intro #bullying tw #police tw #arrest tw #incarceration tw #again i did nOT make him jj dont worry dfsahjfd #also this intro is bad pls do not look at me #alcohol mention

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okaybutlikeimagine · 6 years ago

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I thought about this in class because why not and all I could think about is Billy calling his mom everyday since she left. And Neil finding out and being Neil smashing/destroying the phone. Poor 12 year old billy saving up some how to but a new one. His mom might say she’ll be back soon but never come back so billy starts loosing hope. But once they move to Hawkins he calls her everyday but she doesn’t answer..... dude I’m so sad what the hell why did I think of this.

ohmydEAR why would you do this to yourself???? And then also to me?????????? Except i’m glad you did bc this is so sad and i’m gonna cry and i like… wanna write a fic for this almost?? But i’m also not super sure if i would know how to format it?? I just don’t know how to format this but i have SO many thoughts in my head about this.

Bc i just????? Imagine Billy calling his mom and once she stops answering, still talking to her. Sitting there w/ the phone against his ear, talking to her, saying “Mom, today sucked.” like she’s fucking there to listen. aNYWAY I made myself cry on the car ride home and in the shower over this last night and i wrote out some stuff and i’d really LOVE to write a fic about this but i don’t have a whole hell of a lot of time right now but just so you don’t think I’ve forgotten you bc it might take a while for me to write out the whole fic, I’m gonna post here what I wrote just to see if I’m being THE most dramatic person ever. Bc i feel like i am. >w

I’ve also wrote out the end but I think I’m not gonna post that????? Or i could. Lemme know if you’d read that and still read the whole fic and i can edit this and post it. Anyway, these are very rough, very short drafts of scenes I was thinking of regarding this idea. It’s all Billy talking on the phone w/ his mom except she’s not actually on the other end, he’s just talking into a phone pretending like his mom is there and fucking hell this hurts. anyway.

“Hey Mom… there’s this boy at school. He’s… everyone loves him. I think I would lo-... I think I would too. If I could. I don’t fucking know. Goddamnit.”

He sits there. Waits like someone’s gonna say something. Listens for her voice through the loud beeping sound that signals there’s no one there.

“You should hear the way they talk about people here who get too close. They spit on a guy today for looking at another boy for too long. I’ve gotta… I’ve gotta....”

He takes a harsh breath. Feels his eyes burn. There’s anger building up in his throat.

“Y’know, you always fucking said that love is free -that… that all love is free. But you’re a goddamn liar. So thanks.”

He hangs up harshly.

Sometimes Max watches and listens when he calls. He turns and sees her standing there. She’s so quiet, speaks softly and asks: “Was she nice?”

As soon as it’s out Billy is fuming.

“She fucking left.” his eyes are hard, attempting to break her with just a look. She cowers. “What do you think?”

Max is there. She shakes a bit when he looks at her, nervous under his gaze because it’s angered and red and miserable. Her eyes are wide. She turns away before Billy calls out: “She was nice.”

Max turns around to look at Billy but his eyes are on the ground. He’s nodding.

“Yeah.” He says, like he’s convincing himself.

Max shows up. She sits next to him where’s he’s sat on the ground, back against the wall, eyes threatening to water. Threatening so much they burn.

“You would have liked her.” He says. He rolls his head against the wall so he can look at her. She looks shocked, her eyes beginning to shine with their own tears. “She would have liked you, too.”

Max doesn’t know what to do. She just nods.

---

anyway i’m fucking sad and have a lot of sad ideas about this but also a bittersweet, pretty fluffy ending so welp. there ya go! if i do end up writing this as a fic i probably wouldn’t be able to until winter break from school so?????? it’ll be a while but i definitely wanna write a fic of this and also i’m sad. but thanks for this ask ohmydear ♥ wowowjwifjoe;iajfewajf;aw

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just-jordie-things · 7 years ago

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Gangster’s Paradise - Richie Tozier (chapter nine)

word count: 4739 warnings: swearing, fist fighting, mentions of smoking, mentions of drug dealing, themes of depression, sexual innuendos a/n: this is by far my favorite chapter of this entire series. not my gif

[chapter one] [chapter two] [chapter three] [chapter four] [chapter five] [chapter six] [chapter seven] [chapter eight]

Monday morning was like one of those awful hangovers you get after a long night partying. Where your body is sore, and you’re sure there must be bruises. Her throat was dry and lips were chapped, completely parched. Her head is spinning and she could the urge to vomit but she hadn’t eaten anything and throwing up on an empty stomach was a painful hassle she didn’t want to deal with.

y/n felt the same way walking into school late as she did waking up earlier that morning. She’d woken up on time, but stayed in bed all through first period, feeling like complete, and utter shit.

She dragged her already worn down sneakers al over the house as she got ready. Which, today was just putting on clean clothes and a cap to cover the fact that she didn’t brush her hair or apply any makeup. Or that she was incredibly hungover.

Even once she walked herself to school, she was dragging her feet. But she was already late, so at this point it didn’t matter how long it took her to get to school.

The walking trip alone was half an hour.

Richie was wandering the halls, Ben and Bill walking with him as well. Technically they were supposed to be heading to first period, but none of them really wanted to be there anyways. Besides, Richie had a lot to vent about his weekend to his friends.

“So, it was a mutual breakup?” Ben asked, trying to piece together this long story. Richie shrugged his shoulders in a lame answer, but it was the best he could offer.

“W-well d-d-did you th-think it was for the b-best?” Bill asked.

Richie wasn’t sure. On the one hand, he was sure that without him as a distraction, y/n would figure out what she needed to do. But he prayed to go that she found a safe way to ditch Bowers and come back to him with open arms. But on the other hand, he wasn’t sure just how in deep she was with Henry and his gang of imbeciles. And he wasn’t sure how quickly, or safely, she could leave a gang. Especially one she’s in charge of.

“I’ve got no clue Bill” Richie sighed. “But I want her back. It was strange sleeping without her last night”

“Awe” Ben cooed under his breath, but Richie ignored it. Not even bothering to slap the boy’s arm like he usually might have.

“It’s all strange. I had her back in my life for what felt like years but looking back it seemed like seconds” Richie rambled on, feeling the romantic sap spill off his tongue. Ben, who was smiling a the bittersweet words, and Bill, who was frowning at the sadness of Richie’s tone, both walking and listening intently to their friend. “I just need her to be safe. And I was the reason she wasn’t safe”

“N-n-no you w-weren’t R-Richie” Bill said, brows drawn together. “y/n b-brought that on huh-herself” Richie gave Bill a sharp look, but didn’t protest as he went on. “Y-y-you were helping her g-get out of it”

“No I wasn’t” Richie mumbled back.

“Y-yes you w-were. Sh-she’d still b-be with them if-”

“If you didn’t ask her out last friday” Ben murmured, finishing Bill’s thoughts. “If you hadn’t asked her out, and followed through with it and became a part of her life again, she’d still be stuck in that terrible place with the Bowers gang” He said. “She’d be worse off than ever. Except for now. I’ll bet without you, she’s miserable” Ben said, looking to Bill for backup. The stammering boy nodded in agreement, while Richie stayed silent.

y/n felt miserable. Standing in the empty hallways and staring into the abyss of her near-empty locker. Before now, she’d never realized how painfully empty it was. There were no pictures, no drawings on the inside. Just the blank grey metal. Looking at it now made her feel worse, but she couldn’t place why. It was just sad.

Sighing, she opened up her backpack and dropped off the few binders in her backpack that weren’t necessary for her classes today. She looked at the things that now barely filled her locker, but now it just seemed more depressing.

y/n groaned loudly before slamming the door shut, no longer wanting to look at it.

“Got a lot of pent up anger princess?” The girl turned, seeing Patrick Hockstetter’s tall form coming down the hallway, not too far from her. Typically, she’d give hima snarky and borderline threatening response, but she couldn’t do that anymore.

She’d lost her control over them.

“Fuck off” She mumbled quietly, zipping up her too-big jacket and turning to walk away but Patrick only caught up with her.

“Oh come on, lemme walk you to class pretty girl” Patrick said, looking down at her sickeningly, and licking a tongue over his teeth.

“You must not have heard me when I promptly told you to fuck off” She told him, shooting him a quick glare.

“I was thinkin’ last night y/n/n” Patrick straight up ignored her, slinging an arm around her shoulders and tugging her roughly against him. y/n’s head ached more at the harsh movement. “I was wonderin’... what in the hell were you doin’ with frog face this weekend, huh?” y/n stayed silent, and didn’t dare look at him. “Well? Am I gettin’ an answer? Cause I’ve got a pretty decent assumption in my head pretty girl”

“It’s none of your business anyways Patrick” She told him, but again, he didn’t seem to care.

“Yeah? Cause I feel like you were fuckin’ him all weekend long” Patrick said, and y/n turned away, her chest constricting and her eyes widening. “No comment angel?”

“None of your business” She repeated, walking a little faster away. But the older boy took longer strides to catch up with her anyways.

“It’s all my business, we’re the same business, remember princess?”

y/n’s jaw set, and she kept up with her quick pace.

“Come on y/n/n, you don’t wanna share? Why? Frog face got your tongue-”

“Just shut the fuck up!” She spat out, spinning towards him wildly as she yelled. “Patrick I swear to God I’ll rip your tongue out if you don’t stop fucking running your mouth!”

Patrick smirked, shaking his head down at the girl. “All Buck Beaver does is run his mouth, but I’m sure you’d far rather appreciate a mouth runnin’ all over your-”

She pounced. y/n physically leapt off the ground, and shoved him down against the linoleum floor of the hallway.

“There she is!” Patrick hollered, wooing loudly afterwards. “There’s the y/n we elected for us! There’s the bitch we’ve all been fucking waiting-” She shut him up, socking her fist hard agaunst his jaw.

“Shut the fuck up! Shut the fuck up!” She screamed over and over again, landing punch after punch clumsily but brutally against Patrick’s face.

It was an out of body experience, let’s say.

Patrick was swinging his arms around, trying to grab hold of her. Maybe to throw her off of him, or maybe to hit her back. But she barely even noticed, red blurring her vision so much she couldn’t see past his bruising face. She didn’t even realize that after knocking his teeth a few times, they were splitting and beginning to splatter blood across his cheeks.

“Come on y/n/n! Come on! Lay it fucking on me!” Patrick laughed in a twisted way, even as she continued swinging. Until eventually his hands finally found something to grip onto. Her hair getting yanked on so hard she yelped as he flung her off of him, and stood up, his hand still holding onto her, and he slammed her into the lockers.

“You’re just a fucking psychopath, just like every third kid in this fuckin town” She muttered. “If you get out of this town, the only place you’re going, is the fucking state penitentiary-”

y/n was silenced my his fist socking her across her cheekbone, finally releasing her hair. His empty hand clasped around her throat, and he was giving her the most menacing smile she’d ever seen. Sending a shiver down her spine.

“Bitch, you’re never gonna learn are you?” He spat out, leaning dangerously close to her. “You’re fucking nothing. You talk a big game, but have so little. So, so little. You’d be better off dead, like all those other kids. Dead in a ditch in the middle of fucking nowhere. Even Buck Beaver, is better off without you”

She was silent, the red in her eyes replaced by the overwhelming urge to cry. Not out of fear, fuck the day y/n was every afraid of the likes of Patrick Hockstetter. But because he was right. All she’d done is fuck herself over, and now Richie too.

“Cry baby, come on come on come on” He taunted quietly, begging it from her. “Cry for me, if you won’t scream, cry”

“Eat. Shit” She uttered out, before slamming her entire body against his, and started swinging her fists again. She didn’t care.

“R-Richie” Bill rolled his eyes, cutting off the boy’s ramblings. “Y-you’ve got to stop b-beating yourself up”

“What’re you talking about? I’m just ranting, it’s what you do with friends”

“No, what you do with friends is talk and complain. You, are heartbroken” Ben said, before turning down the hallway to go back to class. “You made me miss ten minutes, now I’m gonna be drilled about where I went”

“Fine. Go. Don’t help me” Richie retorted sarcastically.

“You don’t need help Richie” Ben said. “You need to go talk to y/n, remind her how you feel, tell her you’re there for her. You think you’re going through shit? She could get thrown in jail any minute. Or worse. You don’t think the Bower’s gang would pull a gun on her any second?”

Richie winced, but looked away so that Ben wouldn’t notice.

“If you think you’ve got problems Rich, then you need to suck it up” Ben said, and it was the snarkiest thing that both Richie and Bill had ever heard him say. “Because she’s got big time shit going on. And she needs you” With that, Ben walked off, heading back to class.

“She only pushed me away, but it was for the-”

“Don’t say it was for the best” Bill cut him off, without a single stutter in his voice. “B-Ben’s r-right” Richie sighed, running his hands through his hair a few times before tugging tightly on his curls. “Really y-you have to s-stop kicking y-yourself over th-this”

“I can’t not do it Bill. It’s my fault”

“N-no it’s not”

“Yes, it is. If it weren’t for me, she’d still be in a simple bliss and completely safe” Bill shook his head slightly, biting roughly on his cheek. Richie you idiot! His mind screamed.

“St-still wrong R-Richie” He said quietly. “I agree w-with Ben. Sh-she needs you. N-now, more than ever”

“I don’t know Bill” Richie said, his voice nearly failing him.

“Sh-she’s only p-pushing you away t-to protect y-you, and t-to keep her g-guard up. Y-you know y/n better than a-anyone. So y-you of all p-people should have already f-figured that one ou-out”

Richie was silent.

“Y-you love each other. Th-that may n-not feel like it’s enough. B-but it is” Bill said, stopping Richie in the hall completely. “You b-both need each other. Y-you just d-don’t realize i-it”

More silence.

“L-look I’ve g-got to get to class. But y-you should talk to her. S-soon, Richie” Bill said, patting his friend’s shoulder before walking off to his own class.

He knew he and Ben were right. He knew that Richie was hurting, but he also knew eventually his trashmouth friend would see what he needed to do. He’d understand that y/n-

Is fighting Patrick Hockstetter.

She was fighting him, right as Bill tuned the corner he saw the girl shoving and punching at the significantly taller boy.

“H-holy shit y/n” He whispered at first, then yelled, “y/n!”

In a moment of confusion, y/n stopped her attack and turned to see Bill standing at the end of the hall, his eyes wide and lips open in a circle.

“Bill?” She muttered to herself, before she was licked across the face with Patrick’s bony fist. Her small body knocked to the ground from the impact, and letting out a pained groan as her hand came to brush her fingers over her cheek. Just as she felt the string of what was going to be a bruise, a foot swung itself against her ribs. “Fuck!”

“Holy shit!” Bill hollered again, his feet finally moving and carrying him in a sprint towards the scene. “y/n!”

The girl mentioned stood up again, panting and putting her hands on her knees for a moment to regain her strength. Not that Patrick cared, as he lunged for her again. Bill almost jumped in front of her, before she stood suddenly and swung at him. She landed a punch just under his jaw, but it didn’t faze him one bit. He snatched her wrist with ease, yanking on her roughly and nearly punching her before Bill pulled the girl out of his grasp.

“F-fuck off” He said, keeping y/n behind him like she needed his protection. If you asked her, she’d say she didn’t.

“O-o-o-kay B-b-b-b-Billy” Patrick snickered, and pushed Bill aside. “y/n’s got a death wish, and I intend to grant it for her” He said, licking over his lips.

y/n spit on him.

But he only laughed, that twisted fuck, and leapt towards her, just as she kicked her leg up and kneed him between the legs. Patrick howled with pain, but it only made him hesitate a few short seconds before grabbing her and shoving her to the ground. y/n never got the chance to fight back before he began landing punch after punch against her, bruising her skin almost instantly.

She’d never noticed how his hands were like that of a skeleton’s until now.

When the end of the period bell rang and students filed out of classrooms like flies, it grew loud with cheers and chatter upon finding a fight in the halls. They crowded instantly around Patrick beating the living shit out of y/n, not caring the girl was coughing blood or that her lips were swollen beyond their usual plump appearance.

This crowding lasted a few minutes before a teacher had finally wedged their way through the sea of students.

“Mr Hockstetter! Ms y/l/n! Mr Denbrough! Principal’s office, now!”

Richie was fiddling his pen around between his fingers mindlessly. Not paying a single ounce of attention to whatever his Calculus teacher was scribbling on the board.

After getting back to class, all he’d done is doodle on his paper, his desk, his own hand, and stared blankly out the window. Anything to keep him distracted from not only the work he was supposed to be doing, but also the thoughts that kept swimming around in his head. What to do about y/n what to do about y/n.

On the one hand, he screamed go back to her! Go hold her and remind her you love her!

But on the other, the quiet whispers in his own mind that somehow overpowered the passionate shouts, don’t, you’ll upset her. You’ll hurt her. You don’t want to hurt her, do you?

“Fuck!” He shouted suddenly, slamming his pen against the desk and making one of his papers float to the ground.

“Mr Tozier!” His teacher scolded, her writing coming to halt with a loud squeak on the whiteboard. She put a frustrated hand on her hip, looking for an apology from the boy. And he knew. That’s why he didn’t say anything.

“Well? Are you going to apologize to the class for disrupting their learning?” She asked in a tone a mother would use when looking for getting what she wanted. Richie looked around at all the eyes staring him down. Curious, prodding eyes.

“Fuck this class” He announced, boldly, but boredly.

“Excuse me?”

“Fuck” Richie repeated, leaning over his desk slightly, “This” He added slowly. “Class”

Earning himself a glare from his teacher, and an aggressive pointing towards the door.

y/n was slumped down in the uncomfortable chair outside the principal’s office. She had her hands linked together over her stomach, her foot tapping anxiously on the floor. There was a bag of ice, wrapped in a paper towel that the nurse had told her to press anywhere she felt pain. But it hurt everywhere, so she left it sitting on the chair next to her.

She wasn’t sorry for a damned thing she did, so she wasn’t giving into using that bag of ice like a vulnerable pussy. It made her feel like badass not using it. A bruised up, tiny framed, badass.

y/n smiled to herself, her lips aching where they’d been split and swollen. Dried blood still on them. Even when she had cleaned up before coming to the office, she couldn’t properly wipe away all the blood with the school’s shitty paper towels, so she’d left it. Deciding to do it at home when the principal sent her away for a three day suspension she was sure she would receive.

Patrick Hockstetter was sitting in the office now, likely coming up with an extravagant, and untrue, story of how y/n attacked him first. And he did have the cuts and bruises to prove it. While y/n may have a good record, Patrick has a good knack for lying. Surely she’d be sent home with a form for her father to sign, stating she’d be suspended from school for the next few days.

“Fuckin’ stupid” She grumbled, catching Bill’s attention, who was sat across from her in the small waiting area. He’d been sent to the office as well, even though he’d only tried to break up the fight. He was still involved, and in the school’s eyes, that’s enough for at least a talking to.

“W-what is?”

“This! This is fucking stupid!” y/n winced after she yelled slightly. Kind of because it hurt to, but mostly because she’d never yelled at Bill before, and it made her feel… guilty. Not as guilty as she felt about ignoring him for the past few years though. “Why are you here?” She asked him hesitantly.

“B-because I-I was caught w-with you g-guys” Bill answered simply, softly.

“I mean why… why’d you come in the first place? Why didn’t you leave?” y/n said, unable to hold eye contact with him.

“B-because I thought h-he’d actually k-kill y-you” Bill answered, earning a short chuckle from her. “B-besides, R-Richie would’ve been upset if I d-didn’t do a-anything”

y/n’s head snapped up at that, and she was finally confident in keeping an intense stare on Bill. “Wha-what? Richie he told you-”

“Yeah” Bill answered before she could even finish her sentence. “I mean… I-I’ve always known” He shrugged his shoulders slightly, and y/n sat back in her seat, sliding down it as she thought. “It w-was much m-more obvious b-back then” Her eyes cautiously met Bill’s as he looked off somewhere else, smiling as he recalled the days they had spent all together.

“What was obvious?” She asked quietly. Maybe Bill didn’t know what she thought he did. He gave her a funny look, cocking his head to the side a little.

“Y-you guys l-love each other” He said, and her lips parted slightly, quickly redirecting her gaze as she shook her head.

“No- no we aren’t” She replied, finally grabbing her bag of ice and pressing it slightly against her bruised ribs. “We were close, o-of course” She stammered. “But we weren’t in love” Bill scoffed.

“R-really? After all this y-you c-can’t even admit it?” y/n flinched at his harsh words, but didn’t say anything in reply. “y/n y-you and R-Richie have t-to be the b-biggest idiots in th-this school-”

“Watch it, Richie and I haven’t spoken years” She snapped at him.

“Liar” Bill replied. “H-he told me a-all about it” y/n winced at his response, snapping her mouth shut. “I can’t b-believe you’re still p-putting up this- this bullshit act”

“I’m not putting on an act!” y/n stood up from her seat suddenly, abandoning her ice on it. “This is just how life turned out Bill! What do you want me to say? What do you expect?” She asked him angrily. “I’m sorry that we lost touch after all that fucked up shit happened, okay!? I’m sorry Richie and I didn’t go off and get hitched and I’m sorry Bev’s gone and I’m sorry Georgie died and I’m sorry-”

She choked, tears filling her eyes as she found it more and more difficult to yell at him. Bill stood up, a sorrowful expression on his face as he walked the short distance between them.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry” Her voice was strained as she cried, and in seconds Bill was opening his arms and holding onto her tightly.

“I’m s-sorry too y/n/n” He said quietly, squeezing her carefully, wary of her bruises.

“I fucked up real bad, Bill” She said through short breaths. “I’m not getting him back, I’m never getting him back”

“You w-will, you’ll f-figure it out” He told her, pulling away and smiling softly at her. “Y-you two always f-figure it out” y/n frowned, ducking her head down to stare at her beat up sneakers.

“Miss y/l/n” The door opened suddenly, and y/n spun around to see Patrick being let out of the office. He cast her a look on his way out, smirking and running his tongue over his split lip menacingly. His eye was bruised as well as his cheekbones, but he didn’t seem to care.

She knew she was screwed.

“You’re next” The principal stated, still holding open the door for her. y/n turned back to Bill, a worried but apologetic look on her face.

“Don’t worry, I’m telling her the truth. You won’t be in any trouble” Bill nodded gently.

“Alright. I-I’ll wait here, o-okay?” She nodded back, about to say something else, perhaps thank him, when she was called again.

“Miss y/l/n please don’t make this difficult” The principal’s strict voice rang. y/n ushered quickly into the office, the door slamming slightly behind her.

Richie swung open the door to the waiting room, whipping it shut behind him and causing Bill to jump.

“Bill?”

“Richie?”

They both spoke at the same time, surprised to find the other there.

“You heard a-about it already?” Bill asked as Richie sat in the seat next to him. But the glasses wearing boy gave him a confused look.

“Heard about what?” He asked, but just as quickly brushed it off. “I’m here for cursing in Woods’ class” Bill nodded, not so shocked anymore that Richie was at the office. “But why’re you here?”

“I tried b-breaking up the f-fight” He replied. “G-got sent down since I was i-involved, but she’s st-still in there g-getting talked t-to”

“Who? There was a fight and no one told me?” Richie asked, a smug smile tugging on his lips, wishing he’d seen someone throw hands today. He could’ve used that kind of entertainment.

“Y-you didn’t hear?” Bill asked, and Richie’s amused smile went away from Bill’s quiet and anxious tone. The one he only used when something went horribly wrong, or he was scared.

“What? About what?” Richie asked, his nerves now getting the best of him. Bill swallowed thickly, his mouth opening and closing a few times but he wasn’t sure what to say. “What Bill? Fucking spit it out what is it? Who was it?”

“R-Richie I’m s-sorr-”

“Just fucking say it Bill who got in-”

Richie was cut off from his question when the principal’s door opened, and y/n walked out. When she looked up and her eyes instantly landed on his, he shot up right away.

She looked awful, her once soft lips puffy and bruised. One of her eyes darkening and her cheeks littered in ugly spots of bruising, black and blue, a disgusting color looking like her skin was rotting on her face. She held a hand over her ribs, and he just knew her shirt was covering even more sores. Not to mention the dried splatters of blood on her lips.

“Holy shit what happened to you?” Richie breathed out, not meaning to sound rude, but he was so concerned he didn’t even know what to say.

“Mr Tozier, it was your language that got you down here, do you really want a second strike within the hour?” The principal scolded, but he didn’t listen. y/n’s eyes were set on his, round like a doe caught in the headlights, and she looked like she would either burst into tears or run away.

“I’m fine” She spoke softly, looking down as she headed towards the exit.

“No you’re not” Richie whipped around and followed after her, standing between her and the door.

“Mr Tozier!”

“You’re not fine, what happened? WHo did this to you-?”

“No one Richie, leave it alone” She warned him quietly. “Let me go”

“Fuck no-”

“Mr Tozier! I won’t warn you again!” The principal call, and he grimaced, looking away from the girl in front of him for a few seconds.

“You’re not ignoring this with me” He told her, before walking to the office. y/n’s brows furrowed together as she turned to watch him walk into the office. His eyes caught hers for a moment, then quickly diverted as he disappeared into the principal’s area.

She didn’t look at Bill as she rushed out of the office, heading straight for her locker. It hurt her shoulder as he backpack moved roughly against it, but she didn’t care. She needed out of this damn school as soon as she could. Why did Richie show up? Of all people that could’ve walked into that office, he had to. Of course. The hungover, bruised girl looked down at the paper in her hands, not caring to read all the fine text printed on it, only seeing the big bold letters reading, NOTICE OF SUSPENSION. The bottom of the page held a long line where her father was meant to sign. Though he likely would never see this paper.

“Well well if it isn’t princess herself” She saw Patrick waiting for her at her locker, but his presence didn’t faze her like he was hoping it would.

“What more do you want Patrick? Another ass beating?” She asked, sounding tired as she pushed him slightly to the side to put her locker combo in.

“Course not babe, I just wanna talk”

“Last time you said that you asked if I’d fuck you” She responded dryly. He chuckled, swiping his tongue over his bloody lips before shaking his head.

“Offer always stands, sweetheart. But again, this isn’t that kind of talk” He told her, making her grimace, but not look at him as she got her things out of her locker. “Just wanted to make sure you knew… that you’ve been removed of your position” He said in a husky whisper.

Y/n turned to him quickly, a look of surprise on her face as she was filled with hope. “I’m out?” She asked quietly, her optimism shining through her words. But Patrick laughed barkingly, shaking his head at the girl.

“Foolish bitch” He said at the end of his laughter. “You tried screwing us over, you’re never getting out” With that, he walked off down the hall. y/n’s face fell to one of terror as she watched him leave. “And if Henry won’t kill you? I sure as hell will!” He hollered before he was out of sight.

“Shit” She cursed under her breath slamming her locker shut and leaning her head against it. The coolness of the metal felt nice on her face, but she was far too worried about what was to come to care about her bruises now. “I’m fucking dead”

my. favorite. chapter.

taglist: @awtozier @fightmebub @catching-fire-in-the-wind @black-tights-black-heart @socially-awkward-nerd @depressed-trashcann @beepbeeprichtozier @timsflannels @theidjitsimpalaa @timsflannels @theidjitsimpalaa @itsluzymeh

xoxo ~ jordie

#It (2017)#richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier scenario #richie tozier fanfiction #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard imagine #finn wolfhard scenario #finn wolfhard fanfiction

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17caratstorytime-blog · 7 years ago

Text

You Were My Fairytale

Member: Jeon Wonwoo

Words: 2.85k

Genre: Angst with some fluff

Warnings: none~

A/N: This was actually a story idea I had a little while ago and out of nowhere I was like “oh shoot, Wonwoo would fit this so well” so I went back last night and wrote it up and there you have it folks~ I hope you guys enjoy! Lemme know what you think~!

This was never meant to happen. None of this. I was never meant to be at the bookstore until closing hours. I wasn’t supposed to have fallen asleep reading another novel, the cup of coffee from before long forgotten and cold. I don’t remember what I had been dreaming, but I remember waking up to find a red leather-bound book glistening from one of the bookshelves. As soon as I blinked, it was gone. Despite every neuron firing in my body, screaming at me not to touch that book, to walk away and pretend I never saw that soft flickering light, I couldn’t fight the strong pull of my heart leaping towards that book. That was how I found myself in his word for the first time. Granted being pinned against a shirtless, very disheveled young man amongst a room of about a dozen other young men in the middle of what seemed to be a dinner plus drunken brawling was not what I was expecting but it left a strong impact on our friendship. At first, he didn’t believe me, labeling me instead as another alien from somewhere in the galaxy out to take his throne, but as I began to appear and reappear out of nowhere, it started to hit him. As for me, I realized eventually the red journal would teleport me to his world every time I opened the book, the memories of our adventures with a pre-written destiny bewitched into each piece of parchment. That was how Jeon Wonwoo and I first met.

“Wonwoo, you’re so dead when I get my hands on you ” I seethed as I blindly stumbled through the cavern, the damp coldness sticking to my body like a second skin. Behind me, heavy footsteps caught up with mine, snickers spilling out of the lips of the men accompanying me.

“This should be interesting to watch,” one of the mages behind her cackled. “Wonwoo’s told us of your anger issues but seeing you take it out on him is going to be the best yet.” Normally more silent and nonchalant, Lee Jihoon was fairly ecstatic to see one of his best friends be turned from unbreakable to shattered china.

Next to Jihoon were Jun and Soonyoung, the two also beaming with mischievous grins. Before any other words could be spoken, a burning ball of flame flew past the group, barely missing them before another flew right at them. Jun immediately snapped into action, dropping to his knees and slamming his palms into the ground. As he began to mutter words, a pale mint force field surrounded the four of them. Jihoon closed his eyes, mapping out their location and finding the source of the flame as Soonyoung and I deflected any flying flames that Jun couldn’t stop. Just as sudden as they came, the flames stopped. A few terse minutes of silence ticked by, not even our breathing audible. Until...

“(Y/N), look,” Jun whispered, fingers pointing at the dark floor barely illuminated by their torches. At first I noticed nothing, until the stone Jun was pointing at jumped. Soon, the entire cavern was shaking, from the small pebbles on the floor to the ominous stalactites hanging above. Jun’s force field kept them safe. Otherwise they would’ve been turned into human kebabs for whatever flame breathing monster was headed their way. But before that...

“WONWOO?!” the group collectively yelled at the stumbling figure that appeared, the edge of his cape still alight with dying embers. Rather than explaining, Wonwoo grabbed my arm and began to run.

“There’s no time to explain,” he panted out. “Let’s get out first, and avoid being eaten alive.”

That was all we needed to run alongside him, the thudding footsteps of whatever beast Wonwoo messed with much louder and faster than before. We barely managed to find the exit before a massive shadow flew over our heads, knocking us into our backs.

“Shit,” Wonwoo hissed as he stood up, hands glowing a bright red as he unsheathed his sword, Soonyoung and I right behind him as Jun took rear with Jihoon.

I glanced at Wonwoo from the side of my eyes and found my heart pounding. His eyes were set on the beast, focused and sharp. Smooth skin with a sharp jawline. Rosy lips set in a straight line. It was something I could never get used to.

“Something on my face, (Y/N)?” Wonwoo asked, a smirk overtaking his features.

I huffed and instead turned my head to stare back at the yellow serpentine eyes staring us down, thankful the dark made it very hard to see the red creeping along my cheeks. “Nope, just planning on how exactly to murder you when we get out just to bring you back and murder you again for being an absolute moron,” I retorted. He chuckled, a deep sound that made my heart skip.

With that, the creature charged at us. Jun’s force field kept us just out of its reach but the light glow illuminated on its body, scales lighting up in shades of sapphire. It’s long, massive body was covered in scales. Sharp teeth, heavy feet, large webbed wings...

“YOU MESSED WITH A DRAGON?!” Soonyoung just about shrieked as we all turned to stare at Wonwoo with shock and horror decorating our faces.

Wonwoo was undeterred by the outburst, eyes instead going back to me. The sudden seriousness made me take a step back. “(Y/N), didn’t you say you always wanted the scales of a sapphire dragon?” he asked me, to which I could only nod. His serious expression was then replaced with a soft smile. “Well, I’d been meaning to find a way to confess the right way and w-“

Before he could complete his thought, a burst of fire charged towards us. The five of us all split up in five different directions, moving out of the dragon’s reach. Jun and Jihoon took front, immediately launching an array of spells as Soonyoung charged up his sword with magic. Wonwoo found his way to my side, worry etched over his faces.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he grabbed me by the elbow and helped me up.

For some reason, this small action was enough to make me shy away from his touch, his unfinished confession ringing through my head. “I’m fine, Wonu,” I mumbled, looking at everything except his eyes. His hand reached out to cup my cheek, inspecting a cut I didn’t realize I managed to get as I had dodged the debris. His thumb gently ran across my cheek, my breath stuck in my throat as our eyes met. It was fairly dark, yet I could feel his eyes on me, taking in what he could. Time seemed to slow down around us, everything forgotten but the two of us. Well, until a screeching Junhui went colliding into a wall near us with Soonyoung following moments after. Our heads then snapped back to the situation at hand, the cavern full of dancing shadows and ferocious flames as the livid beast rampaged.

“We would very much appreciate it if you two lovebirds would help us out here for a bit,” Jihoon screamed as he jumped away from the dragon’s tail only to be launched back by a gust of wind from its wings.

Wonwoo chuckled before leaning over and kissing my forehead. “I’ll finish what I was going to say when we get out of here,” he promised. All I could do was dumbly nod and watch as he ran to help the rest of the group. I shook my head, pulled myself out of my reverie and joined them, doing my best to focus on the task at hand. The rest was history. We defeated the dragon. We went home. We confessed and were harassed by the rest of our friends.

It had been a good few months since that day. The dragon scale had be forged into a small ring, one I never took off, one that matched Wonwoo’s charm. For some reason, my heart was aching when I woke up in the evening from a nap. I hadn’t seen Wonwoo in a few days, not having been called into the book, but today the book glowed fiercely bright, the red harsher than an angry setting sun. Slowly, I walked to my desk. Sweat trickled down my neck. Saying I was nervous was an understatement. The book then flipped open, and it was then that I realized the amount of pages I had already taken up.

My eyes flitted word to word on the page, the scene of flying dust and raging shots of condensed magic filling my mind. All I could think of was him. As though reading my thoughts, the pages of the book flipped themselves, stopping at yet another blank page. “Are you okay?” the words imprinted themselves onto the word without a sound escaping my mouth, my mind penning down the letters instead. A few long moments passed before he wrote back. “I don’t have long left,” he solemnly wrote. “We’re at the end of the book you know.”

And with those words, I was yet again transported to the space in between. This time it was the edge of a cliff, the sun slowly kissing the horizon as the sky began to drown in inky purples and pale pinks. His dark calculating eyes looked into my worried ones, a small bittersweet smile on his face.

“Remember how earlier into the book, when I first fell in love with you…I said to you ‘Please, don’t close the book. I don’t want to die’ and you listened, kept the book sitting there and open for days as the story wrote itself?” Unable to speak, I simply nodded and silently urged him to speak. His eyes broke from mine to look back at the sun, the dying rays making his eyes shine. But when he turned back to me, I realized it wasn’t just the sun that made his eyes shine. It was the tears he was trying to hold back. His large, calloused hands grabbed mine the way fear was grabbing my heart. “I need you to let me go,” he choked out. My knees gave way and suddenly I was kneeling in the dirt. Pebbles bore into my skin, but the pain was nothing compared to the sensation of my heart being slowly ripped apart. He kneeled down in front of me, one hand holding mine and the other cupping my cheek for the last time. “This book, this world, this is my home. This is where I am from, where I will live, and where I will exist. This is my world. You have your own. Where magic doesn’t exist. Where humans drive mechanical vehicles and fly in the large machines from one place to another. You do not belong here,” he softly said, the tears making their way down his cheeks. “I want to be selfish. I want to keep you here. I want to travel with you across the worlds, build a home with you, a new life…a family, but…” he managed to choke out.

“But, I don’t belong here,” I finished for him. He slowly nodded.

“You and I both know how this story will end,” he gently said, his hand wiping away my tears as they fell. “I love you. I love you very much and I will love you until my last breath. This…this is my last mission and after that, I too will be gone. The book is ended as we speak. So, this…” he trailed off, unable to find it in himself to say those words.

I decided to say it for him. “This is the last time we will ever see each other. You’ll cease to exist and I…” I let out a bitter chuckle. “I will have to live the rest of my life pretending you never existed.”

He pulled me into his arms, cradling me as my tears turned into sobs. “I’m sorry, my love. I truly am sorry,” he continuously whispered. He pulled back, his hand grabbing me by the chin, eyes scanning my face as my own scanned his, desperate to memorize everything there was about him. And with the last light of the sinking sun, his lips descended on mine, soft and gentle, full of love and apology. Before he pulled away, his hand pushed a small, cold object into my hand. Little by little, his body disintegrated into ashes, flying away in the wind. The last to fade was his face, one last “I love you,” escaping his lips and as the sun finally vanished, so did he and once again, I was all alone on my bedroom floor, my only solace the cold gripping my body and the locket he bought months ago in the arabic market, inside it the only image I would ever have of him. I watched as the last words of the book imbedded themselves onto the parchment. And as the reality finally sunk in, I sobbed. The love of my life was now dead and for him, I would mourn. This was it. This was goodbye.

For months afterwards, I was unable to continue the way I did before. How was I supposed to? No one knew of us. Our story. Our love. I could tell no one. Who would believe me? Soon enough, the journal was packed away and hidden from sight. I had reread our story many times, tears littered across multiple pages as the memories burned my heart, the embers liquefying and falling from my eyes. The day I locked it away, I sobbed. It was like saying goodbye over again. I moved to a new apartment at the opposite end of town, a new job and a new setting. The clothes, random trinkets, the dagger Wonwoo forged for me...I parted with them all, each item placed deep in the back of storage. I was able to put everything away except that locket and the ring. No matter how hard I tried, I was never able to put those away. Eventually a year flew by and the unbearable pain dulled into an ache, the ache a dull throbbing. I was able to smile, go out, actually live my new life. I did try my hand at dating, but found myself comparing each to him. Maybe I wasn’t ready just yet.

The autumn air this morning was fairly chilly, the promise of winter on its heels. It was an off day, streets buzzing with the sounds of the city and its inhabitants. Today, I found myself wondering about Wonwoo. For the first time in weeks, my heart was back to that initial suffocating heart break where my lungs were unable to take in air and sobs were threatening to escape my lips. That was how I found myself wandering around the city, my feet stopping in front of a familiar bookstore. As I opened the door, the scent of book pages and fresh coffee hit my nose and immediately I remembered that day. Sad smile on my lips, I went to order the same sweet concoction I had that day. I slipped the red boom out of my bag, fingers running across the unblemished red leather. Taking my coffee and thanking the old lady behind the counter, I found a small, secluded seating area and began to read with a fond, bittersweet smile on my lips. Time ticked by without me ever realizing.

“May I take this seat? All the other ones are taken I’m afraid,” a deep voice questioned, snapping me out of my reverie. My eyes flicked up, immediately widening in shock as I took in the appearance of the young man before me. Dreamy brown eyes, dark messy hair, a sharp jawline, those pink lips...it can’t be. I could only nod as I stared at him, speechless. The man gave me a grateful smile before taking a seat across from me, ignoring my presence as he sipped his coffee and read another book, the velvet blue cover matching his calm persona and oddly enough the suit he was in. I took a deep breath. It’s just a coincidence, I told myself. He’s not real. This is someone else.

Silence ticked on between us as we eventually engrossed ourselves in our respective stories. I was rereading the day Wonwoo and I confessed to one another when I heard the man close his book and clear his throat, gaining my attention. Our eyes met before his flickered to the red journal in my hands as mine looked at the blue one gingerly held open by his hands before we once again looked at one another. He gave me a small smile before reaching out his hand, a sapphire scale charm peaking from his sleeve.

“My name is Jeon Wonwoo and I believe we’ve met before.”

-Admin 🐯

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pikapegasus · 8 years ago

Note

I HAVE A STARMORA IDEA! -It's been a couple of years since the fight with Ego. Peter and Gamora now have a daughter who they called "Meredith" just like Peter's mother, and she one day looking through all the things of the Milano finds a kind of box with several photos of the team in different fights or places and they find her seeing those photos from when they were a little younger-

prev. starmora pregnancy/baby oneshots: (x) (x) (x) (x)

whoops had to add some bittersweet angst in at the end, but also, as we saw in the last fam oneshot, gamora was pregnant with baby #2, and now you’ll get to meet baby #2: aria quill!!! tadahhhh enjoy

((also icymi: last starmora oneshot w/”your feet are freezing” as the prompt. pls go give it a read if you haven’t already!))

“Mer-bear?” Peter calls out, walking down the hall of theQuadrant. “Mer?”

He stops at his and Gamora’s room—the captain’s quarters—andpeeks his head in. Sure enough, Mer’s sitting on the floor beside his side ofthe bed, sifting through his box of mementos.

She’s not unsupervised, however; Gamora’s sitting on thefloor beside her, holding Ari in her lap. Mer pulls out an old picture andshows it to Gamora. “There’s you and Daddy!”

Gamora smiles and nods. “Yeah. That’s back from when wefirst met on Xandar.”

Mer smiles down at the picture. Peter walks in then,catching sight of the way Mer’s eyes twinkle. “You look pretty, Mommy.”

“Thank you, Mer,” Gamora says, pinching Mer’s side. Shecontorts at the contact with a giggle.

“What’s going on in here?” Peter asks as he sits down besidethem. Ari holds her chubby arms out to him then, and Gamora transfers her tohis arms. She coos, poking his face with a tiny finger.

“Mommy and I are cleaning your room,” Mer declares proudly.“Your side is messy.”

He glances at Gamora then, who appears to be on the samepage as Mer. Traitor. “She’s right, you know.”

“Gee, thanks,” he grumbles, bouncing Ari in his lap.

“Now we’re looking at pictures,” Mer concludes, handing hima few. “You and Mommy have gone on lots of trips!”

“That we have, kiddo,” he confirms, looking through thephotos. “I had this old, janky tablet with a camera that Rocket fixed up for meafter we all first met. Everyone had fun taking pictures from then on.”

Mer holds up one of just him and Gamora, dancing together inthe cockpit of the Milano, taken from a very low angle that made them look super tall.

“Groot took that one,” Gamora says. “I remember that.”

“He was still little at the time,” Peter reminds, pullingout a picture of Groot when he was little to show to Mer. “He thought thecamera was super cool. We couldn’t get it back from him for, like, a week.”

After handing the picture of her parents to Gamora, Mercontinues going through the box, pulling out random trinkets before returningthem to the box with a disinterested expression. Despite Mer’s Terran skintone—only a few shades darker than Peter’s, yet still a little green when he looks closely—she remindshim so much of Gamora, in the way she composes herself and interacts witheveryone. Even now, as she’s going through his things, it’s calculated,careful, never forceful.

She finally settles on an old kazoo Peter had kept with himfrom Earth—for whatever reason—and holds it up, looking through it like atelescope. “Daddy, what’s this?”

“It’s a kazoo, here, lemme show you,” he says, taking itfrom her. He puts it up to his mouth and blows through it, producing, well,whatever the sound a kazoo makes is called. Mer seems enthralled with it fromthere, taking it back from her and blowing through it loudly.

“Great,” Gamora mutters, but Peter catches a small smile onher face.

Then Ari starts wiggling in his grasp, reaching a hand outtoward Mer and the kazoo. She whines a little.

“I think your mouth is too small, Ari,” Mer says, brieflypulling the kazoo from her mouth. “We can share when you get bigger.”

But Ari doesn’t give in easily, and continues reaching forit. Peter readjusts her in his lap. Ari’s a different story from Mer, who’sapparently the “easy” kid between the two. Mer’s introverted and easy-going,hardly protesting when Peter or Gamora asks her to do something. He can counton one hand the number of times they’ve had to put her on time out.

Then there’s Ari, who, even at the young age of one and ahalf, is more determined to get what she wants, even for a baby. Gamora insists Ari got all of Peter’s genes, despite Ari moreclearly taking after Gamora in the physical sense. Ari’s hair is the same darkshade as Gamora’s, and her skin is of Gamora’s pigment (though a lighter shade,somewhat blended with Peter’s color).

Ari cries out and Peter sighs. “Can I see the kazoo again,Mer?”

Mer, per usual, listens, and hands it over again, refocusingher attention to the remaining photos in the box. Peter gives it to Ari, whoputs the smaller end in her mouth, chewing on it absentmindedly.

“What battle is this picture from?” Mer asks, pulling outanother photo.

Simultaneously, Peter and Gamora groan, looking at eachother with a chorus of, “The Sovereign.”

“Mer, when you grow up and assemble your own team of people to fight bad guys, don’t hire any former thieves,” Peter grumbles,shaking his head.

“Why?”

“Well,” Gamora says, “let’s just say that Rocket’s knack forstealing has gotten us in trouble on severaloccasions.”

“I still blame him for what happened to the Milano,” Petersays. “When the Sovereign was chasing us.”

“That was still partiallyyour fault.”

“If Rocket had never stolen those stupid batteries…”

“They came in handy later,” Gamora reminds.

Peter examines the question more closely. “Man, we looked good when we were younger.”

“It wasn’t thatlong ago.”

“Long enough that Rocket’s started growing some gray fur onhis ears. Haven’t you noticed?”

“He was offended when I first did.” Gamora turns herattention back to Mer. “Are there any other pictures left in there?”

Mer hums as she goes through the last of the box’s contentsbefore pulling out a picture Peter hasn’t seen in years—he hasn’t exactly gone through his memento box in a while—andgasping in surprise. “Grandma!”

“Yeah, Mer-bear, that’s your grandma,” Peter says, his voicequivering slightly. It’s a picture he stole from his grandfather’s house oneday, not too long before his mom passed. (She still had hair and looked so radiant in it, he couldn’t help himself,okay?)

Gamora smiles sadly as Mer shows the picture to Ari (who’salready grown bored of the kazoo and tossed it aside). “Look, Ari, this is ourgrandma. She’s Daddy’s mom! She lived with him on Earth.” Mer looks at the pictureagain, her eyes wide with admiration. “I wish we could meet her.”

Ari starts fussing, so Gamora takes her from Peter’s arms,as if allowing him to share this moment with Mer (of course, grandparents will always be an unfortunate topic for theirfamily, because between his mother, Gamora’s parents, Ego, Thanos, andYondu…they’re all dead, evil, or both).Peter leans in closer to Mer, looking down at the picture with her.

“She would’ve loved to meet you,” he says, placing a hand onMer’s back. Her brown hair—darker than his but lighter than Gamora’s—sits in aloose, disheveled braid beside his hand. “You remind me of her, sometimes.”

“Really?” Mer says, looking up at him. “Because we have thesame name?”

“Not just that,” he says with a soft laugh. “You’re verykind and compassionate, just like her. And like Mommy, of course.”

He wishes so desperatelyhis mother could have met Gamora, if only once. His mother would’ve adored her, not only because of her vastknowledge of space from her many travels, but because of her selfless spiritand passion.

“And you like to dance, just like her,” Peter continues.“You have a similar taste in music.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you like the same kind of music as her,” heexplains. She crawls into his lap then, still holding the picture, and he wrapshis arms around her. “Ooh, child, things are gonna get easier…”

“Ooh, child, things are gonna get brighter,” she sings backto him, stumbling a bit over the lyrics. He presses a big, wet kiss to hercheek and she laughs, fighting against his arms.

“Ooh,” Ari babbles from her spot on Gamora’s lap. Gamorareleases her, allowing Ari to climb over to Mer and Peter. He scoops her upinto his lap as well, pressing a flurry of kisses to her cheek. Both she andMer laugh.

“Everybody, sing!” Peter proclaims. “Ooh, child…”

“Things are gonna get easier!” Mer yells, rather than sings.

“Ooh!” Ari echoes, also yelling.

“Hold on,” Gamora says with a laugh, reaching for the Zunefrom Peter’s nightstand. She plugs it into the small speaker Rocket built justfor Peter to play his music aloud—without having to take over the entire ship’sintercom—and scrolls through the Zune until the familiar notes of the songstart to fill the room.

Even Gamora joins in singing along, coming to sit besidePeter and the girls. Ari tries her best, managing at least the “ooh” parts.Halfway through, Mer abandons his lap for Gamora’s, wrapping her arms aroundGamora’s neck as she sways along to the beat of the song.

Years ago, when Gamora first found out she was pregnant,Peter couldn’t really imagine what would happen after the baby—Mer—came, howthey’d manage to be parents after having both lost their parents so tragicallyand traumatically at such a young age.

Now, Peter can’t picture his life any differently than this,days spent singing and dancing not only with Gamora, but with Mer, and evenAri, sharing stories and laughing over everything and nothing.

And to think it all started because he stole a stupid orb.

yoooo, come chat starmora with me and send me some prompts!! ~☆ (plus if you have any starmora baby/fam fic ideas ;D)

#starmora #gamora #peter quill #star lord #guardians of the galaxy #mcu #fanfiction #tumblr exclusive #hoorayyyy!!! baby 2 is here time to partyyy!!!#now we got a white kid and a green kid #what a wholesome mixed family #Anonymous #mer and ari and kat quill

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