#(I was woken by a thunderstorm at 1am)

[kisskissgotohell]

im going to drive home right fucking now if these two cats won't stop having a mexican standoff underneath my bed, i swear to god

[archersmight]

“BUH!!” 

A flash of lightning, accompanied by a crash of thunder that was almost deafening, woke Claude from where he had fallen asleep in the library. 

[lost-in-sokovia]

like real people do

hello loves, back at it again with another zemo fic. i had lots of positive reactions to this post, so i decided to go for it. sometimes i enjoy doing fanfics off of songs if it hits me right, so this is based off the song “like real people do” by hozier. i hope you enjoy and can hopefully connect the lyrics with the parts of the writing :)

warnings: mega angst🤪

why you?

you had met the infamous zemo through involvement from helping sam and bucky. you had helped the avengers on a few occasions, never turning down the opportunity to help your friends make the world a better place.

you hadn’t expected much to do with helmut zemo after your end of the bargain was held up with the trio of men, yet somehow he always ended up on your doorstep or you ended up texting him at 1AM asking if he could talk (of course, all before his imprisonment, which after left you with a sense of emptiness that you felt guilty for experiencing).

for you, you weren’t sure what these feelings were. friends with benefits? that sounded slightly more sexual than it actually was (only slightly). close friends? not close enough. you felt as though zemo understood you; you’d sobbed your eyes out to him on many occasions, allowing him to hold you and whisper comforting things in your ear with his silky accent. you’d woken up alongside him some mornings and had experienced the pleasure of hearing him whisper “good morning, schatzi,” to you before his fingers ghosted along your waist. you knew how his lips felt and tasted. you knew how it felt for him to touch you.

his silky brown hair and honey brown eyes that grew gold in the sun but as deep and dark as the earth in the dark lived in your head. you could hear the way he said your name in your ears and you ached to hear it again. you missed the way his hands felt in yours and against your body, and late at night you tried desperately to grasp that memory.

nothing was normal about whatever this relationship could be described as.

for zemo, there was a sense of comfort for him found in your relationship. you allowed him to see, feel you, comfort you, and experience you at your most vulnerable. you made him feel things within his heart that he hadn’t felt since before his wife and son died. not only that, he saw you as some ethereal, angelic creature full of compassion for him. you hadn’t reprimanded him about his past. you hadn’t closed yourself off from him just because sam and bucky were always skeptical of him. you hadn’t treated him like a monster.

you were a human who saw what was truly within another human.

•

the night was cold and dark. a thunderstorm raged on in the sky as rain pelted your window and thunder rattled the contents of your bedside table.

you were barely dozed off, eyes fluttering shut as a knock on your front door came. you blinked as you bolted awake, snatching your phone to look at the time.

12:13AM.

what the hell?

the knock came again, slightly more aggressive and your breath hitched. unsure of who it could possibly be, your brain immediately alerted you to grab a gun, only due to the fact of your involvement with the avengers and that typically earning you trouble from unwanted visitors. you tiptoed out of your room, making your way to the door and quietly cocking your gun as lightning lit up the room and another thunderous boom shook the foundations of your small home.

you took a deep breath and grasped your gun tightly before unlocking the door quickly holding up your gun as it opened.

your jaw dropped and your eyes widened as before you stood a drenched helmut zemo. lighting flashed behind him and raindrops slid down his coat. you blinked and dropped your gun, no words being exchanged between the two of you. his chestnut hair was drenched and slightly disheveled, his dark eyes looked black as he looked at you pleadingly with a frown, his lips slightly parted.

the rain from outside began to land on the oversized shirt you wore over pajama shorts. your eyes darted all over him as you breathed quietly, zemo continuing to look at you with desperation.

“(y/n),” he started. without skipping a beat you grabbed his hand, kicked your gun to the side before pulling him into your home. zemo watched as you slammed the door and locked it once again before looking to him once again. his heart jumped as your beautiful eyes looked into his once again.

“what are you… helmut, what’s going on?” you breathed. “how the hell are you here? i thought the wakandans… sam and bucky-“ you blabbered quietly.

“please,” helmut interrupted gently. another moment of silence. helmut zemo was standing in your home, drenched, shoes undoubtedly muddy, and there was a reason behind it. you knew his imprisonment situation was currently complicated, him wanting to be released and being moved to various prisons as his crimes were discussed and considered. nothing about his situation made sense, and nor did his presence at your home.

“…why are you here?” was all you could manage, tears slightly brimming your eyes. zemo’s mouth parted as seemingly the both of you waited for the words to spill from his lips.

“you,” he breathed. your heart stopped as you took a shaky breath. “you, just you,” he added with a bit more meaning in his voice. the words stung you and you felt both angry and hopelessly and desperately in love with him.

“i don’t know what you’ve done to me,” he said intensely as he breathed harder. “your person has captivated me in a way i haven’t felt in a long time. i reminisce on your heart and soul and the way it takes hold of my heart and engulfs it with the most sincere love and compassion a person has ever had,” he expressed. tears began to flow from your eyes and you shook your head ever so subtly.

“helmut, helmut stopped…” you cried softly. his brown eyes scanned you anxiously at your adverse reaction. the way your lips quivered and your breaths were shallow and shaky pierced zemo’s heart worse than any weapon could.

“schatz-“

“no don’t you call me that!” you yelled in retaliation. zemo blinked, taken aback, and took a cautious inhale and exhale. anger and confusion and desperation boiled up inside of you as you sobbed. “y-you don’t get to call me that after e-everything you’ve done. you made me f-feel like a different person. you s-saw me at my lowest, you saw me with h-happiness i don’t feel v-very often, you saw me be vulnerable with you, y-you… y-you saw-“ you began to choke on the words that rambled out of you. zemo took a step towards you and gently held up his hands in surrender.

“take a breath,” he instructed carefully. god, you did not feel like listening to him at the moment, but you complied as you knew he was right. you audibly inhaled and zemo took a few more steps in your direction, earning him one small step backwards from you as you tried to uphold the anger in your face.

“d-don’t lie to me, helmut,” you voice whispered as you hiccuped quietly. “there has to be a d-different reason that you’re here.”

it hurt you to say those words as much as it hurt him to hear them. but honestly, between the two of you, who knew if either of you were upholding an act to get through the mission and get use out of each other. the two of you hoped that wasn’t the reason, but life finds a way to throw a wrench in happily ever after sometimes.

the only sound between the two of you was the sound of your sniffles and zemo’s heavy breathing as rain and thunder continued to surge outside. after staring at you for a moment, zemo shrugged.

“what will it take for me to prove to you that you are the reason i’m not behind bars in a prison as we speak?” he asked, his raspy voice thick with sokovian accent. you gulped.

“did you mean what you said?” you asked. “‘the most sincere love and compassion a person has ever had?’” you quoted.

“every word of it,” zemo replied simply.

fine.

“i loved you,” you started. as thrilled as he was to hear those words, the past tense usage knotted zemo’s heartstrings. “i loved you so much, and you made me feel like the most important woman in the world. but helmut, you don’t get to be the only one who’s gone through shitty things,” you said, a bit of harshness in your tone as your eyes got salty once more. “sure, i’ve never lost a wife or son, nor have i had my whole city demolished. but helmut, you don’t know all of what i’ve been through. i never wanted that time we spent together to stop, i fell in love with you, goddammit!” you sobbed. “i may not know your whole story, but you aren’t allowed to do what you did to me then go off and get arrested from doing whatever the hell you wanted,” you bit.

the two of you waited for a moment for your crying to subside as the rumbling of the thunder slowly began to digress. you took one deep breath and whispered out something that broke zemo entirely; “i loved you, and that hurt.”

zemo felt guilt rush over him. you were right; he didn’t know your full story before the two of you met. he didn’t know what person you were before the bliss that was the time you spent together happened, and that terrified him. what had you gone through before you saved his life by just living and existing?

“draga,” he began. you winced slightly at the pet name as zemo stepped towards you and came close enough to take your hands in his. he was still in his wet coat, his hair was dried in a disheveled style, but his hands were warm and his dark eyes pierced into you with sincerity and guilt. “i am the most sincerely sorry… never did i wish to put you through so much grief,” he apologized softly. “i will not ask you what you’ve come from… not here, not right now,” he breathed. a few loose tears continued to flow down your cheeks as you looked at him with wide eyes.

“i will not ask you, and neither should you,” he continued. he bit his lip before glancing upward and continuing. “i love you,” he confessed. “i love you, i love you, i love you a million times over.”

you hadn’t noticed how close the two of you were until you felt his hot breath on your face as he confessed his love to you. “i am out of practice on what it feels like to love someone, so much so that it is hard for me to recognize,” he admitted as you gave him a sad smile. your eyes were still locked into each other and you ever so gently pressed your body against his.

“this is suicide… ‘us,’” you breathed. zemo nodded in agreement.

“maybe so,” he replied as one of his hands caressed your cheek and landed beneath your chin. “but it is a risk i am willing to take, even if it’s the last.” he slowly pulled you in until your lips met and you placed your hands around the back of his head, taking a handful of his soft hair in your fists. his lips were soft, and you could taste the ghost of the champagne he’d surely had in the past hour or so. he kissed you so gently yet with so much passion, as if he was scared he would lose you if he kissed you too hard but needed to express just how much love he had for you. when he pulled away he kept his forehead against yours, and your eyes looked down and noticed his arms around your waist.

you were terrified. what was going to happen now? were you going to get attached and then he’d leave again? what was the future for whatever the hell this was? this wasn’t real, it couldn’t be.

and unreal relationship between two real people.

yet the two of you stood in your dark kitchen, the rain only pattering on the window and wind blowing against your small house as zemo pulled you closer to him. he hooked a finger under your chin and pulled it up to look into his dark eyes that were full of the love and compassion he spoke so much of you about. he frowned.

“don’t leave me,” you begged, barely audible. zemo pressed another sweet kiss to your lips.

“i won’t, schatz,” he assured as he hugged you, picking you up and setting you on your table. you were slightly taken aback but wondered if you were dreaming as he buried his head in the crook of your neck and held you. “i will stay as long as i am able without endangering you.”

you sighed and gently stroked his hair, a single tear escaping your eyes. neither of you knew what was in store for your relationship. you two both saw something new in each other, something deep down that would remain hidden for now. things you would talk about later in time. neither of you could muster to ask each other the things you now longed to ask each other.

“i love you,” he mumbled, his voice broken. never was he ever this vulnerable. was this the side his wife saw of him? was this all for you?

“i love you,” you whispered back as he kissed your neck where he was nuzzled against it.

honey just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do.

i worked SO HARD on this so i hope y’all liked🥲

[divinefireangel]

Hello! May I request a SF9 reaction? Snuggling in bed in the middle of the night during a thunderstorm. How would the boys react to op being a bit anxious because of the thunder?Thank you!

I just UwU'd so hard 🥺 Also I tried writing mini stories for each member in this one. I'll probably do a few as bullet points and few like this, depending on my mood.

Not me being conflicted between studying and writing reactions 💀💀

Warnings: Descriptions of thunderstorms. SF9 worried about s/o. Why is this a warning💀. Sorry they are short 🥺👉🏽👈🏽. Also not @ hwi for leaking his nudes (not really 💀) while I was writing his part lmao.

Youngbin:

A loud roar heard from outside your window jolted you up from your slumber. Looking out the window with wide eyes, you saw bright flashes soaring through the blacked out street. Knowing exactly what was coming next, you turned your body to face Youngbin's. Surprisingly, he was awake, looking at you with shaky eyes.

"Are you okay? You were shaking in your sleep so I was trying to wake you up. "

"I- I guess? I'm just a bit scared of thund-AH" you shrieked moving your forward into Youngbin's embrace as soon as you heard another loud bang from the clouds.

Reacting just as fast, he wrapped his arms around you. One arm around your torso below you and the other circling your head in attempts to cover your ears, shielding you from the sound as much as he could.

"You're okay. I'm here. You're here, safe in my arms. I'll protect you now. Go back to sleep jagi." He says softly, rubbing your temple with his thumb, easing you to sleep once again.

Inseong:

Hearing the windows rattle, you woke up from your sleep, wondering what was making a sound. Sitting up on your elbows, you noticed the light in the bathroom on, and your boyfriend not next to you.

Everything would've been fine, if it weren't for the low rumble the made the bed vibrate. Clutching the covers tightly, you gulp feeling your heart thump in your chest. Slowly you try to cover your ears with your pillow.

Screaming in fear when you felt a hand grab yours, you throw the pillow in the direction of this mysterious touch.

"Baby what are you doing?!!" Inseong yelped catching your pillow, looking at you with wide eyes.

"I- That- Ow-" you tried answering his question, but failed to as your head started aching from moving so suddenly.

"What's wrong baby? Is your head aching?" He asks climbing into the bed and coming close to you, hand reaching for your head.

Nodding yes, you screw your eyes shut. Feeling him move around and then pull you into his side, Inseong took ahold of your hand, intertwining your fingers together and kissing the back of your palm. "Go to sleep now. I'm here and I won't let anything happen to you."

Jaeyoon:

Feeling the covers being pulled off his body, Jaeyoon groans lightly. Reluctantly he opens his eyes and looks at you, but he immediately sits up when he sees your figure thrashing in fear.

When you stop moving, he hears low whimpers coming from the bundle beneath him. Carefully he moves the blanket a bit, just enough to uncover your face. The sight in front of him breaks his heart. Curled up in a ball, eyes shut tight, you were trying your best to warm yourself up as a distraction to the commotion in the sky.

Lifting the blanket over his body, he lays his weight on top of yours adding additional warmth to your shivering self. Kissing your cheek, he rubs your thigh comfortingly. "Jagi, cuddle into me."

And so you did. Turning on your side, you hid your face in his muscular chest, scared whines leaving your mouth when you heard a quiet thunder. Wrapping you safely in the thick blanket, Jaeyoon cradles your head near his heart, making your listen to his steady heartbeat.

"You'll be okay, jagi. I got you." Hearing your soft sniffles, Jaeyoon wraps his arms around you tighter, kissing your forehead repeatedly until you both fell asleep again.

Dawon:

You were both sitting in front of the couch on the ground, some boring movie playing on the TV but all your attention was on him. Sitting in his lap, you run your hands through his lush locks as you lips lock again and again in a hot messy make out.

His hands are roaming everywhere, pulling you close even though your chests are already touching. Hot breaths exchanging with soft moans that slip out from both of you when you grind down on him. His lips find solace on your neck, making you roll you head back. There is nothing more perfect than a steamy midnight make-out.

And in just a moment, everything went silent, the lights went out. Even more perfect right? It would've been if you hadn't seen that oh so familiar bright light from the window. It would've been if you hadn't frozen on spot, making Sanghyuk stop all his actions. It would've been if you didn't know what was coming next.

"Why? What's wrong? Did I do something I shouldn't have?" He questions hurriedly, worried he did something to offend you. Nodding your head no you look at him with scared eyes, hand pointing to the window and a tempting rumble was heard as soon as you did.

An expression of realization takes over his handsome face. Grasping your cheeks in both his hands, he pulls you in for a sweet kiss. "Let's cuddle in bed so I can hide you from the thunder better? Does that sound okay?" He asks oh so sweetly. Nodding in agreement you just melt into him, clutching him for dear life as he gets up with you in his strong arms and walks to the bedroom.

Laying on the bed slowly, he pulls the covers over both your joined bodies, hiding you from the thunderstorm as promised.

(TwT)

Rowoon:

It was close to 1am when you got up to use the washroom. Heavy raindrops hitting the windows, creating a mellow sound along with the fan rotating on the ceiling. Noticing the absence of your warmth in his arms, Seokwoo stirs awake. Squinting his eyes he sees the bathroom light on and nods to himself realizing that you're there.

"Jagi come fast" he whines sleepily. What an annoying lover, can't even sleep without you. Smiling softly you finish your business. Flushing you freeze in your spot.

A bright light streak illuminated the sky above you, naturally followed by a loud clack of thunder that made the window panes vibrate. Screaming you fall on the ground, knees coming to your chest as you hide your head behind your arms in attempt to shield you from the thunder sounds.

Getting out of bed, and almost falling too, Seokwoo got into immediate action as soon as he saw the lightning too. Running to the bathroom he finds your smaller figure in a ball on the floor, cradling yourself. Approaching you with a worried expression, Seokwoo skeptically wraps his arms around you.

Uncurling you throw your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck so he can carry you back. "I'm here baby. I got you." Comfortingly he repeated those words again and again while carrying you safely in his arms. While laying you down on the bed and covering you with blankets.

Getting into bed beside you, he gives you many reassuring kisses while completely engulfing your body with his, cursing the thunder when it gets too loud causing you to shiver in his hold.

Zuho:

Juho was awoken from his sleep when he felt someone rest on his shoulder. Blinking he started to go back to sleep, thinking it was probably one of his cats, that was until he heard a very human whimper. Shooting his eyes open he turns his head as much as he could to find that you were resting on his shoulder.

"Baby? " he calls in his deep voice as he gently raising his other hand to trace your cheek with his thumb. Turning his body towards you, you cuddle further into him. Curling into his body, you let out choked sobs from fear of the angry clouds adorning the night sky.

Resting his head on top of yours, he begins to play with your hair, an action that always made you calm, especially when he did it, cause he knows exactly how you like your hair to be played with. "You should have woken me up. " he says quietly, feeling bad for not waking up sooner to comfort you. Sniffing you hug him tighter, just wanting his love and care at the moment.

Tangling your legs together, he wraps his elbows around your shoulders to bring you closer to him. Pulling the blanket till your neck, Juho kisses your temple. Continuing to stroke your hair and caress your back, he starts to hum a soft lullaby to lure you to sleep. Holding you closer than ever every time he suspects there to be a loud roar from the dark sky above.

Yoo Taeyang:

Giggling at how cutely you were decorating your cookies, Taeyang presses his lips to your cheek softly. What's better than some midnight baking you ask? Midnight baking with your cute sunshine of a boyfriend. Standing next to you, he starts to give the final touches to his cookies.

"You're cute. " he says matter of factly. It was true though. He never thought anyone could be as cute as you. "All done! " you said giggling, proudly showing off your design of a butterfly you struggled to make. Pecking you on your lips, Taeyang smiles proudly, grabbing both your trays to take them to the refrigerator.

You start to clean up the counter, throwing away the dishes that need to be soaked in the sink first, followed by everything else, except for that packet of choco chips. You gasp when you see the pale flash coming from outside the balcony windows. When nothing happens for a few seconds, you breathe out, continuing to work.

Screaming when you heard the first rumble of thunder, you drop the table cloth to cover your ears. Rushing to hold you, Taeyang hides you in his chest, doing his best to cover your ears when the next few rumbles are heard. Cooing to you to calm down quietly, he slowly starts to sway you bodies from your spot in the kitchen.

"I'll always protect you my love. "

Hwiyoung:

"I love late night showers with you." Youngkyun expressed with a smirk as he bashfully eyed you getting into one of his shirts.

"I know you do." Giggling you walk to the bed, jumping on it making him chuckle at your adorable action. Moving around till you're face to face with him, you lean on him as you capture his lips in a much awaited kiss.

Smiling you pull back to admire his gorgeous face. Lifting your right hand to his face, you draw inkless lines over his eyebrows and cheek bones and all over his face, just admiring your perfect man.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he plays with your shirt, well his shirt. Closing his eyes he let's you do what you want to. Lifting your leg across his naked torso, you trap him below you as you attack his face with love filled kisses. Shyly laughing at your lovey dovey energy, Youngkyun wraps his arms around you tighter, pulling you completely on top of him as you release a fit of giggles.

Hearing the low thunder from outside, you gasp looking out the window anxiously. "The weather report did tell there was gonna be a thunderstorm all night." Youngkyun says, slowly rubbing the sides of your torso. "Oh" was you were able to reply back with.

Grabbing the blanket, he spreads it over the two you of, distracting you from your window gazing. Snuggling into his neck, you shut your eyes as the thunder grew louder. Kissing your forehead and temple and nose in cycles, youngkyun loves you to deep slumber, making sure to hold you tight every time you flinched unconsciously.

Chani:

It was around 2:45am when the loud banging of your neighbour's window against its frame woke you. Flinching a little every time the sound was audible over the strong winds. Once they finally shut the window, you sighed in content, ready to slip back to get those few more hours of sleep.

Just as you were about to succeed, a mighty boom from the lit cloudy sky completely woke you up. Sleep disappearing from your body, fear slowly creeping in. Breathing multiple small breaths from your nose, you feels tears form in your eyes. Heart is beating faster every passing second.

Curling into a ball, you squeeze your face into the pillow to soften the sound of your sobs. "Y/N? What's going on? Why are you crying? Talk to me!" Chani said desperately, worried something may be hurting you? Cramps? Nightmare?

All his questions were answered when he heard the deep sound of thunder, lightning hitting a far off place. Cooing he gently starts to trace your upper arm, coming close so his chest connects to your back. Leaning his free arm near your head, he pets your hair slowly, thumb going back and forth, moving your hair to ease you a bit.

Kissing your cheek, he rests his head against yours, whispering sweet words into your ear, now beginning to gently rub your thighs too.

[outroshooky]

no halo | kth

⇢ genre: oneshot (brief angst, fluff, smut) (exestolovers!au)

⇢ pairing: kim taehyung x reader, bestfriend!min yoongi x reader

⇢ word count: 5.3k

⇢ audio: brockhampton’s ginger album

⇢ warnings: brief angst (it’s exes to lovers, what do you expect), a smoking mention, some varied cursing; implied and explicit smut (soft!! body worship). there’s a happy ending, i promise.

⇢ a/n: i sat down at my laptop today, turned on no halo by brockhampton, and started writing. six hours later, i cannot believe that i managed to smash a brutal writer’s block by churning this out in literally one day. i hope that this is a bit of bright light for you, dear reader, in a time where nothing seems to be going your way. you will make it through no matter how messy or uncertain life seems to be, and you will come out on the other side all the more stronger for having survived it. 

Believe it or not, it’s the pair of battered red Converse slung over his shoulder that tips the whole thing over the edge.

It’s inexplicable. Perhaps it’s the memories attached to it, knotted and strung through metal rivets scuffed with night rides and hard asphalt. Tastes like cigarette smoke and ashen dreams wafting from the driver’s side window, but there’s something more bitter there. Heartbreak veins, like you’d expect them to pulse with anything but. They say love doesn’t last when it’s not built on something solid, but somehow, heady summer nights and network love aren’t enough to pass the time.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing with those?” It bites, thickened with venom. Somewhere far-off is a headboard banging, curses of those stupidly thin walls of the motel complex. 

“They’re mine,” Yoongi says. Which they are. Unfortunately. “I need them to like, go outside and stuff.”

“Fuck you,” you fire back.

“A ray of sunshine you are,” he remarks. “Any particular reason you feel like biting my head off in this shitty hotel room?”

The silence explains absolutely nothing. What he doesn’t know is that it’s not his fault. It’s right there in the middle of the dingy carpet, cracked and bleeding, privy to one and one alone. You’re too stubborn and he’s too good and here you find yourselves, locked at an impasse. He doesn’t know how good he is, how he’s patched your wounds up with wind in your hair and sand between your toes. He tries his best; it’s better than anything you would allow yourself, a luscious pleasure in such a stark world. So you settle for what you’ve got, and he shakes his head.

“You know you can come to me, right? About what’s on your mind?”

You finger the fraying tear in the bedspread, the cotton crumbling between your thumb and index.

“Look, I’m not good at this feelings thing and you know that. But you’re my friend, and I care about you, and I want to hear you out, okay? Whatever you’re thinking about. You’re not gonna hurt me; it’s not like I haven’t been through the ringer myself. You’re not so different, yeah?” Yoongi’s eyes search your own for acceptance. Defeat. Anything at all. “You’re not some kind of lost cause because one asshole in particular who shall not be named made you feel that way. Maybe it was two assholes. Whatever. Your worth isn’t dependent on their opinion of you.”

It feels like rambling but burns like an iron, sears through the darkness hovering over your consciousness, casting shadow. That thing twitches, bent and broken deep inside, staining down the bedsheets and spilling onto the beige carpet. He’s hit home, and Yoongi knows it when the defiance in your brow drains, floodwater evaporating against the creamy popcorn ceiling. He’ll forever hold that he doesn’t have a way with words; you’d kindly argue the opposite.

“I’m sorry, Yoon.” You look up at him for the first time since you’d woken up on opposite sides of the same bed. Something about childhood innocence preserves moments like those, in spite of years gone past since the last time you shared a bed like that. Nothing dirty about needing companionship in the form of a brother you’d had since you’d skipped stones down at the pond in grade school. He knows you intrinsically, like the scars that cross his knees and the freckles that dot his neck, no better and no less. “You deserve better than the way I’ve been treating you. Because you’re right, you know. But right now, it hurts.”

“Hurt doesn’t make you any less human. It’s a part of life. And it’s okay to hurt sometimes. Just don’t let it consume you till there’s nothing left.” He readjusts the shoes tied together by one string, sitting on the narrow angular of his shoulder. “Breakfast ends in an hour. I’ll grab you something and bring it back, and then we’ll figure out what to do next, yeah? I don’t have work till Tuesday, so we don’t have to be back for a few days more.” He pauses in the doorway. “Oh, and for the record, fuck Kim Taehyung. I’ll knock his teeth through his ass for the shit he put you through.”

The small smile you crack brings a toothy grin to his own visage. “Excellent advice.”

There’s a wry fondness dancing in the deep russet of his pupils, burning umber in the low light. “I try.”

Fuck Kim Taehyung. The exact advice you needed to hear, and the exact advice you decided to act upon, in exactly all of the wrong ways.

It’s the number that is stamped on your brain like a fifty-dollar tattoo— not necessarily the most tasteful, a pain in the ass to remove. Unfortunately, it is the tattoo that your thoughts like to trace with gentle fingers, rubbing at the lines, blurring the edges. Laser removal takes time and patience, but the contrary nestles in the form of stupid decisions and late-night mistakes. Like a dead battery on your Wrangler at 1am on the back streets, a useless cell phone, and three weeks of time to think.

Grief gave way to rage gave way to kindling coals of sadness, burning low but bright enough to light your way. Gone were your attempts to fan them back into the roaring bonfire those motel walls once contained, but here were your best efforts to cradle them close, nurture them that they might die out on their own, and most of them had. Moving on tasted ginger-sweet and minty-bitter, the chill in the air as the leaves tumbled and crunched underfoot, ignited with reds and yellows and everything in between. A summertime flame left for the autumn rain.

Pour the rain did, leaking rivulets down the windshield as you sat in the driver’s seat, staring at the dashboard. In times like these you’d call Yoongi, but he didn’t get off work till the morning and an impossibly timed dead zone did nothing to help your wireless suffering. Nighttime meant comfort for souls like yours, an escape into the quiet of dusk when everyone else sought the dreamy confines of sleep. Unfortunately, it meant that everyone else sought sleep while you were cursedly awake and stuck in the downpour. No place to go, no one to find.

You let your head fall forward and hit the steering wheel with a thunk. Fuck.

Knock knock.

It’s a glance to the left, out the driver’s side window that reveals a silhouette framed in darkness, wrapped in a thick coat, peering through the glass. Hand raised to brow and you can’t help the involuntarily yelp that leaves your mouth from the sheer proximity of the stranger. The figure flinches back in response, and you can’t help the immediate pang of worry. You can’t afford to miss a chance for help, but you also can’t roll down the window, and thus you’re opening the door and squinting into the rain as it blusters through the open gap. “Hello, I’m sorry, my cell phone isn’t working, is it possible for me to borrow yours so I could call somebody to pick me up?”

“Wait, what?” The stranger hunches slightly, peering through the watery onslaught. “Is that who I think it is?”

Oh god.

Oh god no.

The sheer absurdity of the situation isn’t lost on you, not like the way relief is wrapping that thick timbre around yourself like a familiar blanket. The irony of your car happening to die only a few blocks away from that little blue two-story, the coincidences of such a familiar stranger going out for a stroll in the middle of a fucking rainstorm. Of course he had to.

“Unfortunately,” you can’t help but grimace. “Taehyung, what the fuck are you doing out here in weather like this?”

You can hear the hint of a smile in his voice. It almost aches. “Are you saying this isn’t ideal weather to take a walk and enjoy the fresh air?”

“No,” you reply bluntly. Infuriatingly positive he is, always has been. “Ideal weather isn’t a fucking thunderstorm.”

“Mm.” The momentary quiet, save the rainfall, hints at what goes unsaid. “So what are you doing out here?”

You bristle. How to formulate a response that would not warrant help, but also warrant help? “I was out taking a late-night drive and stopped to take a break. I was getting drowsy and I prefer to be a responsible driver, so I pulled over to make sure I was awake enough to drive home.”

“What a considerate person you are!” Taehyung trills, and you’re almost positive it is completely unironic. “How are you feeling then? Do you think you’ll be able to drive home?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll be fine.” A tight smile. Polite. It takes every ounce of will to not study him deeper, all of the curves and edges hidden snugly in the darkness. “Thanks.”

“Are you sure? It’s raining really hard as well; you won’t be able to see well even if you aren’t feeling drowsy.” There’s genuine concern in his tone, warmth bubbling from his throat like liquid sunshine. Maddening. But he’s right; he’s shining a bright light through the flimsy veil of your lies and you’re pinned. Even more maddening.

“Taehyung, it’s—” you clamp your mouth shut because in a slip of the tongue, you were that close to letting anger seep into your tone. That close to losing your stance as the better man, but the line of who exactly is the better man is smudged beyond sight in the downpour. You take a deep breath. Start again. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

Lightning flashes, jolting the clouds and cleaving them in two. The very world could be coming down in tatters around him and Taehyung wouldn’t think twice about being his everyday self, annoyingly cheery and maddeningly gentlemanly. You swear you see a flash of teeth, a boxy smile despite the water dripping from his umbrella, striking the pavement with an irregular heartbeat. Not your own, of course. “Nonsense! We can’t have you left out here to soak like this. Come on, you can drive us home!”

Oh my god, he certainly has not disappeared quicker than the very implication left his mouth. He is not shaking his head like a dog shedding wetness, nor opening the passenger’s side and hopping in, pausing to fold his umbrella in the gap before pulling the door neatly shut. You are not seated in your dead Wrangler with your ex-boyfriend at one-thirty in the morning in the middle of the very heavens coming apart with a religious fervor.

Taehyung brushes his wet hair out of his face, dribbling water down his cheeks. For all of your expectations, he looks no different than when you saw him last, standing on the curb with all the world’s joys flickering in his pretty almond eyes. The shadows cast his profile in a gaunter light, sweeping down the hollows of his jawline, his cheekbones; your fingers tighten around the door handle. Apparently, three weeks might not change much after all.

“Oh sorry, did I rush you?” He opts to ignore your blank-eyed stare of shock, reaching out to you before pausing, his hand outstretched to touch you. “I didn’t mean to rush you if you’re not ready to drive yet. We can sit here as long as you’d like! There’s no rush for me to be home. I just wanted to get out of the rain; it was starting to soak through my umbrella!”

For all of this, you can manage a brief: “Yeah.”

“Let me know when you’re ready to go!” The optimism in his voice is painful.

“Taehyung.”

“Yeah!”

“I lied.”

You don’t need to look at him to know the way his forehead will furrow. “What?”

“Gah!” You can’t help pinching your brow between two fingers. “I can’t fucking believe this—”

“Believe what?” Blinking doe-eyes, long lashes wet and thick in the dimness.

“Taehyung, my car battery died three blocks from your house and my cell phone isn’t working, and now I’m sitting here with my ex-boyfriend in the passenger’s seat and I have no fucking idea how I ended up here.” You sigh. “Do you not see the irony in this?”

He blatantly ignores the gesture towards the massive elephant basically perched on the center console. “No wonder your car is off! We’ll walk then.”

“Taehyung, please just make it easier for the both of us and l—”

It’s no use. Dear god. How you had ever put up with him, shared a bed with him is currently escaping you, but regardless of this, he is already out of the car as the words punctuate empty air. Weighing options is impossible when you have none to choose from.

“-use my phone to call somebody to pick you up!” The driver’s side door opens and he’s there, right there, not across the console or the bar or whatever. Right there. “Come on, we don’t have time to waste!”

“Kim Taehyung, for god’s sake, I am your ex-girlfriend!” The exclamatory stops him in his tracks. Finally. “Why are you helping me?”

The rain pours rivulets down his black slicker, drenching his hair and bunching along his shoulders and running down his arms. And yet, he brushes the water from his brow with a swipe of his thumb, peers at you, sneakered feet planted firmly in the asphalt. He raises a finger to the sky, smiles— not a half-smile, lopey and lop-sided, but a true grin, squared and gummy and full of wonder. “Ideal weather.”

“Kim Taehyung, you are absolutely ridiculous—”

“Ideal!”

“So let me get this straight,” Yoongi grits as you sit across from him, your frame molded into the plush of his second-hand loveseat. “Your car died on the back streets, coincidentally three blocks from Kim Taehyung’s house, who is— just to double check— the asshole who shredded your relationship, and he happened to be out for a walk in the rain and stumbled across you in your car, and offered to take you back to his house and let you stay there till morning until you could get me to pick you up?”

“Yes.”

“What the actual fuck.”

You gesture at him with your free hand, the other occupying a mug of steaming tea. “Join the club.”

“Just to double check, we’re talking about the same Kim Taehyung. The dude who you officially dated for a solid four months but fucked around with long before that. That guy, right? That Taehyung?”

You release a deep breath; the steam rising from your mug winds away. “Yes, it’s the same Kim Taehyung.”

Yoongi looks like he is about to spit nails. “I hope you took the chance to kick him in the balls.”

“Yoongi!”

“Just saying.”

“It could’ve been a lot worse, actually.” Your companion raises an eyebrow. “He gave me his umbrella when we walked back.”

“Ah yes, because giving you his umbrella once undoes six months of emotional damage—”

“Yoongi, chill. I did what I had to do—”

“Which is good, because survival skills are important.” He searches your face for any hint of something other than stoicism. Forgiveness, maybe. “And it doesn’t have to be any more than that.”

“I didn’t say it was,” you affirm. “But even if I don’t like him, I owe him credit where it’s due.”

Yoongi frowns. He knows not to push, but curiosity pecks his bones, nips his intuition. “For the third time— why didn’t you call me last night when you got back to his house?”

You sip at your tea. Flaxen sweet, mild on your tongue. “You were at work and I didn’t want to bother. Paying rent is more important than saving my sorry stranded ass.”

“You’re neglecting to mention the Kim Taehyung part.”

He rubs a fine nerve, one push too far. “Yoongi, what are you so worried about?” You sit up, place your mug on the fold-out table. “It’s not like I’m suddenly pining over him just because he happened to be there when I needed help. It’s not like I had any other options; I can handle myself. Taehyung and I broke up a month and a half ago; I’m not as… broken as I was before.”

It’s written on Yoongi’s face that he doesn’t like it, but protectiveness wins out over stubbornness. It always does when it comes to you. “I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

You soften. “I know.”

The tension drains from his hunched figure. “I know you can handle yourself when it comes to people like him. But I also know how hard you cried over him in a shitty motel all those weeks ago.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “I don’t want you to feel like that again because of someone. Fool me twice, you know? You deserve better than that.”

Your eyes flick to his. Steady, warm, weighing justice by the tawny flecks that glint in the raven black of his irises. “I do. And I don’t doubt that. It won’t happen again.”

His own mug clacks as it meets the wooden tabletop. “You know, you never told me what exactly happened between you two that ended it. Like, I know the rough idea, but not play-by-play. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but…” He trails off, leaving the gap.

“Ah.” A remark, neutral in sheen but bitter in taste. Like biting into the shell of a crisp apple, only to find that it’s not as sweet as once hoped it to be. “Sure.”

So Yoongi listens.

It’s strange how someone so vivid in nightmares, so seemingly real as the pen between your fingers or the breath in your lungs, can fade away so quickly by daybreak. Before you ran into Taehyung again (for better or for worse? For worse), he loomed as some larger-than-life figure in the back of your consciousness, spewing traumas and terrors like a river gully. But there he was in the passenger’s seat, no larger or smaller than before. Just Taehyung. Terrifying in premise, in rationality, on the contrary.

With that in mind, it was hard to not wonder if you had, perhaps, not given him credit where it was due. The Taehyung you met in the pouring rain was the same Taehyung whose hair you brushed sand from and temple you kissed and sides you pinched to get him to squeak when he laughed. Memories you tried to stuff away, filter through a new lens with every flicker in your mind, like a crackling film reel. But there he was, and here you were, and you weren’t quite sure who you were running from anymore.

Is it easy to run from someone who your lips know the taste of, fingers know the feel of? Is it easier to run from yourself when you strip away the miscommunications, aches and pains?

Yoongi knew the full story now. Terrifying to admit your fault, any measure of it, because you never liked to show him what being broken looked like. Some measure of personal freedom exercised, but with the wrong heart in mind, because he would never judge anything you had to say and instead, simply listen. He was always an older soul than you ever tried to be and he knew it, rugged wisdom at its finest. But ultimately, he only knew what he was told or taught, and there you were, spilling the unmangled truth to him on a Wednesday morning over two cups of chamomile tea. 

Coming to grasp with imperfections is part of the cursed struggle of being human, of embracing those little nicks and dashes that make us who we are. It does not mean we are loved any less, but loved because of them; none of us are angels. These messes are our measures, our faults and our pleasures. How terrifying it all is, being ourselves. Being raw and vulnerable and attacking those thoughts that weigh heavy on our consciousness, day after day.

And it is easy to wonder if you matter through all of this, through the chaos of that inner dialogue. It’s moments like these that put those perspectives into frame, click them like camera shutters pausing time to breathe and think. To look at the white-framed ink is to rewrite tangibility, printed blurry on those transparent rolls. Nothing is so unforgettable when it is angled just so.

In the evening, in the comforts of your apartment, you uncork a Polaroid from where it is hidden behind some cheery optimistic phrase you stole off of tumblr. Bullshit for the purpose it serves, painfully ironic for the task it demands. A picture of a boy with cherry-red hair and a boxy grin on his face, arms wrapped around you with all of the comforts and ease of home. There’s mirth in your eyes, sheer joy and laughter. No alcohol involved, just two people who found it easy to slip into each other’s company just-so. A jasper gem for you, polished to perfection and printed right underneath your fingertips.

Anxiety clenches at the base of your jaw, massages your throat with the cruelest intentions. You swallow it back.

The phone rings once.

Twice.

Crackles to life.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Taehyung?”

His voice melts through the receiver like buttery chocolate, smooth and warm. “You still have my phone number! Hello! I thought I’d never hear from you.”

“I-I’m sorry, what?” You blink in confusion, then shake your head. “Never mind.”

“I thought I’d never hear from you. That guy who picked you up didn’t seem to say much, but I figured you’d call eventually to say that you made it home safe. So I guess you did! And I’m glad.” You can hear Taehyung smiling through the phone, easy inflections of speech.

“Yeah.” You fidget, playing with the edge of your sleeve. Now or never. “Taehyung, I owe you an apology.”

This is the first time he falters, hints at something deeper. “What for?”

You take a deep breath. “You were kind to me. And I didn’t recognize it for what it was at the time, so I was a complete asshole to you. And I’m sorry for that. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, it was the least I could do! Nobody deserves to be stuck in the pouring rain—”

“I’m not talking about the rainstorm.”

He stutters. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Taehyung.”

He’s quiet. It is terrifying.

“Taehyung, both of us know what I mean.”

You momentarily wonder if the line has gone dead. Perhaps it has. A saving grace, and then that deep timbre crackles to life on the other side. You nearly miss what he says.

“I want to hear you say it,” he whispers.

“You were kind to me,” you stutter. “Kind to me; so, so kind. And I didn’t recognize it for what it was w-when you gave it to me. And I was a complete asshole to you. I’m sorry.” You wait for something, anything, but he gives no intention, and you continue. “Taehyung, you were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I was so terrified that I stuffed it away into some far-off corner and tried to pretend that it wasn’t happening. I turned so much outward onto you that you didn’t deserve because I didn’t know how to be good enough for someone like you. I took you for granted, Taehyung, the exact opposite of everything I should have done. You glow like the literal fucking sun, and I’m a little cloud drifting through the sky. I should’ve let you shine through me, but instead, I just blocked you out. And I’m sorry,” you confess, the tension in your shoulders collapsing. “I’m sorry.”

For the first time in weeks you wish you could see him in front of you, gauge his reactions like barometric pressure, but instead he’s across town and you are here, feeling ever-so-small in spite of yourself. It was easy to read what he was thinking, painted across his face in swaths of joy and sadness and everything in between, but here, he gave away nothing. 

Please say something, Taehyung. Please say anything.

“Ideal weather,” he murmurs.

“W-What?”

“A sun without clouds in the sky shines blindingly. Clouds temper all that light; certainly we don’t need all of it.” It sounds so cheesy, some Shakespearean verse he quotes from off the top of his head, but it is the closest thing he’ll phrase to acceptance, and you swallow down a relieved sob. He calls you by name then, lets it ring warm and sweet, the way he used to say it. With life, energy, everything it lacked simply because it rang from all the wrong mouths till then. “Everything happens for a reason. You did the best you could. It just didn’t work out at the time.”

“Taehyung, it’s okay to blame me. It’s okay to say that I was the one who fucked it all up, not you. For god’s sakes, you never did anything wrong. It was always my insecurity, my mistakes—”

“You’re only human. You did the best that you could, just as I did. Who could blame you for that?” Taehyung’s words seep heat into your bones, calm your trembling fingers. “I couldn’t. Nobody could. I certainly don’t think any less of you for it. None of us are angels; we did our best with what we had. And that’s alright.”

You can’t help but laugh, dry, monosyllabic. “You handled this so much remarkably better than I did, god.”

He’s breathy with amusement. “It took a little while.”

“I could imagine.”

He hums. “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

Your index finger finds the edges of the instant photo. His smile catches in the light of your desk lap. “There’s another reason I called.”

“That wasn’t it?”

“Believe it or not, no.” You trace his shoulders, the planes of his chest. “I just wanted to say. I have a Polaroid of us from July, from that bonfire that Jeongguk had with like fifty people down at the beach. I kept it, selfishly. It’s been pinned up on my bulletin board behind another piece of paper. But I took it out today. And I think I might pin it up in front now.”

“Oh, the cherry red hair.” The fondness seeps through the receiver. “I loved that night.”

“Me too,” you admit. A beat of silence. “Goodnight, Taehyung. Thank you.”

“Oh, you’re hanging up already?”

“What?” You nearly sputter.

“I haven’t gotten to talk about the Polaroids I kept, too.”

There are two ways to fundamentally seduce Kim Taehyung: make his coffee exactly how he likes it, or play with his hair while he’s lying on your chest. Both of which you achieved, and both of which led to your current predicament.

But we’ll rewind a bit.

That phone call, the first of many, lasted into the early hours of the morning, that sacred time that you both hold dear. It tasted like nostalgia and fondness, feelings you corked and bottled out of fear of what might lie on the other side. But in this case, the other side was a friend and more, a living history book for all of the cracks in between. And he simply adored filling them in.

That lazy afternoon where you planned on having a date at the park, but it had poured rain nearly as intense as the day you reconnected with him. You danced in between the raindrops instead, bare feet on the gravely asphalt, wishing you could touch heaven and so you kissed the boy whose cheeks were between your palms. The spontaneous road trip you took to the next big city over, five hours away, simply because for the first time in so long, you had nowhere to be but with each other. Hands held between library shelves, firelight’s glow on faces untouched. Sharing a tuft of blue cotton candy with sticky fingers, talking about everything and nothing under the moonlit, cloudless sky. For every instant photo saved were memories tenfold that he plucked from that mind of his like stars placed in the breadth of the cosmos.

One phone call became two, became four. Became texting over a break at work, FaceTiming over dinner. Became meeting each other for a late breakfast, studying at the cafe for an early afternoon cup of espresso. Depth and understanding, and Taehyung is slotting into your life without a second thought, as easily as you’re slipping into his. You let him this time, so much smoother than before. You want him to.

Neither of you can deny what it is happening, but neither of you can find a complaint to lodge. So when he asks you out, fingers entwined over the metal arm of the park bench, a bouquet of sunflowers tucked next to you, he already knows what your answer will be.

Indeed, there are two fundamental ways to seduce Kim Taehyung, and as a master of both of them, it is only a matter of time before you find yourselves at the foot of your bed; he pulls you closer to press his lips to your own. He tastes like cappuccino and chocolate and you’re humming into the kiss, shuddering underneath him. He still knows your body, every divet, every edge. He never stopped loving it— never stopped loving you.

He worships the way he loves— selflessly, giving every ounce of himself without abandon or question. When he eases himself between your thighs, the look in his eyes is nothing short of sinful adoration, seeking out every secret to your pleasure. It’s ingrained in his memory, the way you gasp or grab his hair when his fingers dance along your skin; he couldn’t forget it even if he tried. It is worth every wince as your digits tug at his scalp; he swallows down everything you give him and begs for more, more, more.

And likewise you lavish him, devoting minutes to dot his heaving ribs with kisses, stroking comforting palms down his sinewy thighs. Taehyung is every work of art you have wanted to see in a museum, living, breathing, merely mortal but so much more. So vibrant, so raw.

And afterwards you lie together, unable to tell where he begins and you end. Breathing in the heat, piecing each other together in the silent din. Clothes are tossed about the room; you can’t find it in you to care. You turn to him, caress his cheek, run a thumb over his lips. “Stay here tonight. Please.”

He smiles and your thumb brushes his teeth, boxy and exposed through the gap of his grin. “Was the overnight bag not enough?”

“How did I not notice you packed an overnight bag?” You sit up, wrapping the blankets around your torso, scanning the room to spot his duffel.

He pushes himself up on his elbows, wraps himself around you like a human koala. “I’m very good at being sneaky.”

“Mm, I noticed.” There it is, against your dresser. Your heart swells, fit to burst.

“Come to bed,” Taehyung hums, gritty, a little seductive. It sends a chill down your spine. You don’t think it’s meant to. Your fingers find his own and knit together over his knuckles.

“I’m right here, sunshine.”

He kisses behind your ear, the gentlest of intentions. “I love you,” he whispers. “Come to bed.”

You squeeze over his hand. Everything left unsaid, in the space of a breath. Two. “I love you too,” you whisper. “And I will always be here, loving you, with everything I could possibly give you. Every ounce of my heart. I love you.” 

He squeezes back, wraps the blanket around your frame, tucks you in tight. He kisses your shoulder with lips of silk, and you roll on your side to get comfortable, his arm draped over your waist. 

Against the far wall, propped up on his duffel, lies a pair of Converse sneakers, as scuffed and beaten as they were saturated with rain, on the day you fell in love with Kim Taehyung all over again.

[valhallasubstitute]

Rainy Days

Modern AU 

--Sihtric x reader

Sihtric promised to be home yesterday but Uhtred insisted that the business trip be extended. Again. You’re a little bummed out about it but he promises to make it up to you. And then the rains come.

A/N: It’s been raining the last couple of days (love a Scottish summer) and all I’ve wanted to do is be spooned in bed by a big man.  Enjoy my pining.

WARNINGS: mentions of sex, this is a very fluffy and soft Dane boy who looks like a rat because he deserves it.  

Wc: 1336

‘Sihtric you promised, you said-‘

‘I know what I said, I’m sorry babe. Blame Uhtred, blame Alfred, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’

‘You better.’ You heard Sihtric laugh down the other end of the phone and the sound brought a smile to your lips despite your annoyance.

‘Look I’ve got to go, okay? I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

And he was gone.

Sihtric had been gone for three weeks and was meant to be home yesterday but some unforeseen complication came up, meaning you were left alone and disappointed.

You weren’t really mad at Sihtric, maybe a little, but more than anything you just missed him. You decided that next time you saw Uhtred you’d tell him that yes, while Sihtric may be one of his best friends and work for him, you’d actually like to see the man you’re in a relationship with from time to time? Or maybe you’d just text Gisela and get her to do it…

You tossed your phone onto the couch and flicked through Netflix. There was nothing new and you couldn’t watch the show you had started with Sihtric because he wasn’t here. The audacity of the man, he had pushed for you to watch it with him and then he buggers off. You had been enjoying it too, though you couldn’t remember the name of it, The Only Land? The Last… something?

Nothing caught your eye and forced yourself out of the little nest you had built. You decided as you shuffled through to the kitchen that you’d have a hot drink and then stick a shitty romance movie on. If nothing else you could fall asleep to it.

While the water boiled you watched the world out of the window. It had smelt like rain for days and finally small droplets began to fall from the sky. The presence of the Old Gods was still strongly felt in your two story home, magical things seemed to happen between you and Sihtric when it rained, blessings from Thor he would say.

The first time you had met it had been raining. You were waiting for your friend Hild, a catch up between the two of you was well overdue and you had agreed to meet her outside of her work. You were shocked when you had walked up to a big house rather than an office but you soon learnt that that was just how Uhtred operated, one big family.

You had sat on the wall outside, kicking your legs against the stone, umbrella in hand, when a car had pulled up. Two men got out, one of them hurried past you, a small nod of acknowledgement and a brief smile. Finan.

The other man looked as if he was in no rush and you took the time to admire him. Broad, arms that had you salivating and kind eyes. When he spoke you nearly fell off the wall.

‘You’ll catch your death from sitting out in the rain.’ You recovered quickly, savouring the sound of his voice, it was soft and you wondered how your name would sound if he said it.

‘It’s not so bad, you don’t seem to mind I either.’ He smiled then and you should have known your heart would end up belonging to him. He opened his palm and closed his eyes, letting the rain fall on him for a just a moment, embracing it.

That’s when the door opened and Hild came out. She took in the scene before her with a single, perfect eyebrow raised and you found yourself blushing.

‘Whatever he says Y/N don’t listen to him. He’s a heathen.’ She was smiling at Sihtric as she said it and he smiled back, embracing her.

‘Abbess.’ Sihtric said nothing more, nodded to the both of you and then he was disappearing into the house that you thought would be an office.

You had met Gisela at that lunch date and suddenly you were a regular at that house, becoming friends with everyone and a little more with some.

The first time you had had sex with Sihtric it had been raining too. He had almost cancelled your date for a late night work thing but you had insisted that you tag along. You sat in his car at 1am and watched a warehouse, you were 100% certain that you were on a stakeout, a game of spies without the fun and all of the risk.

You’d been there for nearly 5 hours when you finally snapped. You had slept a little, talked a lot and shared enough caffeine to make anyone buzzed. The rain was too heavy to see properly and you couldn’t turn the engine on for the noise. He looked so good and the space between you was so small and before you could really explain it you were riding him in the front seat, all breathless moans and desperate hands. You fell asleep in the back, your head on his chest and the sound of the rain hammering against the window.

The memory of it send a shiver through you, a smug little smile spreading across your lips. You loved that you got to share his bed. You made your way up there now, slipping into one of his T shirts and some joggers to sleep in. He’d never know and even if he did you knew he wouldn’t mind.

He had told you once that one of his favourite memories was just after you moved in together. It was summer and the window was wide open due to the heat but a thunderstorm was on its way.

The two of you hadn’t gotten out of bed all day, the invitation of fresh sheets and each other, with nowhere to be far too inviting to decline. You had woken up in his arms, tucked tightly into his large frame. You had stayed there, sharing soft touches and taking photos,  laughing at nothing and everything.

You had fallen asleep again at some point and when you woke up Sihtric wasn’t in bed with you. The storm was in full swing and some of the warmth had left the room. Instead of walking around your home naked you threw on one of Sihtric’s shirts and went to find him in nothing else.

He said that the minute he saw you in his clothes, smiling at him with messy hair, he knew he wanted to be with you forever. He had always known that, he’d said, but in that moment he had never felt such clarity, determination and love.

You couldn’t picture a life without your Dane in it and as the memory faded his side of the bed seemed to become even more empty, mocking you in his absence. You sipped your drink with a pout.

Until you heard the slam of a car door.

It was far too close to the house to be from anywhere other than your driveway, and you knew the sweet little lock noise well.

You didn’t put on shoes, you didn’t grab an umbrella and you didn’t close the front door. None of those things seemed important in your haste, your excitement.

Sihtric wasn’t even halfway to the house when you flung yourself at him, the stoic look he wore so well evaporating into a wide smile that rivaled your own.

‘How?!’

He didn’t answer you, just shrugged as if it wasn’t exactly what you had been wishing for all day. He dropped his duffel bag and brought you into his arms.

He felt like home.

You took his face in his hands and crashed your lips into his, a happy groan telling you he had missed this just as much as you had. It wasn’t until you both stopped for air that you realised you sock-covered feet where soaked.  

‘You’re home!’  He beamed at you before dipping, throwing his bag over one shoulder and you over the other.

‘I’m home.’

[crying-gay-tears]

Brighter Than the Sun (3/?)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

ao3

A thunderstorm and existential thoughts keep the boys awake. 

Chapter 3: Questioning

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gon tossed in bed as a clap of thunder echoed in the air outside his dorm. It hadn’t woken him up--he hadn’t actually fallen asleep yet--but it was enough to shake the window in its frame. A few seconds later and his room was illuminated by a flash as lightning ripped across the sky. He counted in his head ‘1, 2, 3, 4, 5’... another thunderclap, another flash. Huh, so the storm was about a mile away then. He knew this was coming, the signs had been showing the last few days. Birds were flying low yesterday and there was a ring around the moon that night. He could smell it in the air as well. He was grateful it waited until Friday night to finally hit. It meant he could have a nice rainy Saturday indoors with no classes to interrupt. Another crack of thunder and lightning, and the rain finally started. He settled on his back and listened to the heavy pitter patter against the roof.

The room was dark aside from the dim blue light of the street lamp outside the window. It illuminated the rain flowing down the glass, casting fluid shadows that danced across the floor. He laid awake watching them, mind wandering.Usually when it stormed, it brought him a sense of calm and peace. On nights like these he slept like a rock; but for some reason, tonight he couldn’t seem to sleep at all. Maybe it was because this was his first stormy night spent away from Whale Island. He had definitely been feeling the differences that living in a city made in his daily life. Maybe he was a little homesick, and maybe the storm was just making that feeling grow.

He glanced up at the desk across the room. The bright red digits of his alarm clock glared back at him, letting him know it was well past 1am. Just as he moved to bury his face in his pillow, he heard a thud followed by some rustling on the other side of his bedroom door. Eager for a distraction from his own restlessness, he kicked his blanket aside and snuck out to the common room. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find, but Killua on the floor scrambling to scoop chips back into a bowl was not it.

~~~~~~~~

After about two hours of tossing and turning in bed, Killua found himself in the common room, rolled up in a blanket on the couch with a bowl of cheese puffs and a baking show playing on the tv.

He was having trouble sleeping, which wasn’t really new, per se, but the thoughts running through his mind and keeping him from sleep certainly were. Earlier that day was the first meeting for the GSA, and Gon convinced him to go. Not that it took too much effort, Killua had been curious about it weeks ago when Gon first mentioned it.

The meeting was a little over an hour long, and Killua was on edge for most of that hour. There were a bunch of people there, all of them seemed nice enough, but it was still a bit overwhelming. He wasn’t even sure if he should be there in the first place.

They all introduced themselves with their name, pronouns, and sexuality if they were comfortable sharing. Killua waited with baited breath until it was his turn, then he quickly declared “Killua, he/him” and turned to Gon to pass the spotlight, who was carefree and confident when he spoke. ”I’m Gon! I didn’t really know what pronouns were before now, but mine are he/him! And I don’t know what to say about my sexualty, I’m here to hopefully figure it out!”

Killua was amazed the whole time at how easily Gon fit into the group, like they’d all been friends for years. He was starting to learn that that’s just how Gon was. He was comfortable with everyone he met and he navigated life with a confidence that stemmed from his own optimism.

Killua spent most of the time quietly observing. The group leaders talked about what it felt like for them when they realized they were queer. A few told their coming out stories, some of acceptance and some of isolation. They talked about the spectrum of sexuality and what each letter in the acronym was. Killua, who had entered the meeting assuming he was just going to be an ally, left that afternoon with the burning letter Q in his mind.

Questioning. Something about that word felt so comfortable to him. It felt like a word he could sit with for a while. Under the umbrella of questioning, he had the space to think about all the new perspectives he received during the meeting.

He assumed he was just an ally, but when he heard about all the things you could be besides straight… Ally didn’t feel like it really fit. And that was because straight definitely didn't feel like fit him anymore. To be honest, looking back, he wasn’t sure if it ever really fit him in the first place. But straight was what he always was, wasn’t it? It was never really something that got talked about directly, but it was always assumed. He’d only ever been asked about girlfriends, or girl crushes growing up. He’d been called a lady’s man by his parents’ friends, and he was always told he’d make a nice young lady very happy one day. It started to feel like being straight was kind of...expected of him? He never realized there was any other way to be.

But as overwhelmed as he was with the suffocating straightness, he was equally overwhelmed by the world of queerness that he had no experience with.

Straight didn’t feel right--and that was scary in and of itself--but he also wasn’t ready to declare himself as gay or bi or pan or any of the other letters. He just… wasn’t sure yet. So he was Questioning.

And boy was he questioning.

Everything.

What did this mean? Would he have to come out to his family if he decided he was gay? Or bi? Should he tell them now that he was questioning? Or wait until he figured it out 100%? When would that happen?

He couldn’t imagine his family being too cool about it, not that they were cool about much to begin with. When did he start caring about what they think anyways? He’d gotten piercings, dyed and cut his hair, snuck out, and done pretty much anything to piss them off and free himself just a little bit. If being gay pissed them off, he shouldn’t care! But would he? Wait, when did he decide he was gay? He wasn’t! Was he?

His phone buzzing on the couch next to him snapped him out of his thoughts, and he jerked in surprise, sending his snack flying. He hissed as the bowl clattered onto the floor, spilling cheese puffs everywhere.

He was on his knees scooping them back into the bowl frantically with his hands when he heard a door creak open. Before he could react, Gon was standing over him, a strange smile on his face.

“Want some help?”

“Oh, no thanks I’ve got it.” He threw the last puff back into the bowl and dumped them all into the trash. “Sorry if the bowl dropping woke you up.”

“It’s okay, it didn’t wake me up, I couldn’t sleep anyways.”

“Did the storm scare you or something?”

“No, ” his brow was furrowed and his lips formed a small pout. “I usually sleep like well on stormy nights. I don’t know why I’m so awake right now. I was thinking maybe I’m homesick.”

“Ah” Killua flopped onto the couch, pouring more chips into the bowl.

“Is that why you’re awake? The storm scared you?”

He scoffed. “No, I just have a lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Can I join you?”

“Uh, yeah, sure”

He made room on the couch and Gon sat down next to him. When he started tugging at the blanket, Killua just stared in confusion. He kept tugging until, finally understanding, Killua pulled the blanket off of himself and spread it over the both of them. Gon scooted in closer and let out a contented sigh. Their arms and thighs were touching, and Killua was doing his best to remain calm. Were they supposed to be sitting this close? Gon was always kinda touchy feely, and Killua had never really had friends like this before, was this just what friends did? They were watching tv, that was normal. Was he just overthinking?

“So, what’s on your mind, Killua?”

He almost jumped out of his skin. “I..uh, what?”

“You said you had a lot on your mind, and if it was keeping you from sleep I thought you might wanna talk about it.”

“Oh, no... I’m okay, just thinking about school stuff, yknow, homework and whatever.”

Gon just chuckled in response.

“What’s so funny?” he huffed.

“Nothing, it’s just that you’re a terrible liar.”

Killua’s mouth fell open in surprise.

“I am not! I-”

“It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about whatever is bothering you.” He reached for another cheesepuff from the bowl in Killua’s lap. “It’s also okay if you’re scared of storms.” He smiled as he pushed the chip into his mouth.

“I’m not scared, Gon. Just couldn’t sleep. Seriously.”

“Okay, Killu, whatever you say. You know, storms used to scare me when I was younger. Mito-san always calmed me down with herbal tea and sometimes she’d sing to me. Did your parents ever do anything to help soothe you on stormy nights?”

“Well, no, not really. Not that storms ever scared me,” he side-eyed Gon, “but they’re not really the comforting type anyway so it wouldn’t matter anyway.”

“Oh?” Gon’s eyes were wide, not with judgement, but with genuine curiosity. “What are your parents like then? Tell me about them.”

Killua sighed. ”They weren’t really around much. Though I don’t think it’s because their jobs are super cool.“ Gon laughed and he pressed on.

“My dad is a criminal defense lawyer, just like his dad before him and his dad before him. My mom’s a criminal psychologist, so they make a great team. They both went to fancy colleges and come from rich families. All they really care about is maintaining social standing and images, and the family name, and of course money. They throw a lot of parties and dinners for clients and their colleagues, so I spent a ton of my life, including most holidays, stuffed into a stiff penguin suit with a fake smile speaking only when spoken to and never about what was actually on my mind.”

Gon frowned, his eyes were intense and urged him to continue.

“They’re only ever involved with my life when they’re trying to control it. I had to fight with them for months to let me go to a college so far from home. They wanted me to go to my father’s alma mater and get a law degree and eventually run the firm with my older brother,” he rolled his eyes. “But they’ve never once asked me what I want to do, or how I want to live.”

“What do you want to do?”

Killua blinked in surprise. “I, uh… well, I’m not really sure yet,” he dropped his head, staring at the bowl in his lap, “I really don’t know. But I want the freedom to figure it out for myself. Without their pressure or judgement.”

“That’s more than fair. You’re your own person, you should be able to make your own decisions!” Gon’s brow was furrowed, his mouth set in a tight line, clearly upset with what he’d just heard. Killua couldn’t help but smile; it was nice to have someone on his side for once.

“How did you get them to let you come here?”

“I told them if they didn’t let me pick where I went, I wouldn’t go at all.” A devious smile spread on his face at the memory of his mother crying and father standing stone faced with his arm crossed as he held up his acceptance letter.

Gon giggled. “What a power move! Were you being serious? Or bluffing?”

“Well, I just kinda went for it during an argument with them and then stuck to my guns when they pushed it further. I hadn’t really thought about whether or not they would actually agree to my terms. If they’d said no I guess I would’ve taken a year off or something to piss them off, and see if that changed their mind. Luckily, they went with it, and they’ve been pretty quiet since I left. I imagine when semester grades start coming out they’ll be calling. They’ll probably also be on my ass when they find out I haven’t declared a law major yet. Or any major for that matter.”

“You should take all the time you need! It’s okay to not have everything figured out just yet.”

Killua looked at Gon for a moment. His amber eyes were burning into him, full of care and concern. Killua felt so seen and it was...really nice, actually. His heartbeat speeding up was kind of annoying, though.

“Yeah, thanks. Hopefully I figure something out soon though, I think it’ll be easier to tell them I’m not pursuing law if I actually have an alternative to present them with.”

“That makes sense. I still think you should be able to take all the time you need to decide. It’s only fair.”

Killua swallowed nervously around the lump in his throat. Those words held so much weight. He certainly had a lot to think about and decide for himself, and not just what his major would be. Time sounded like exactly what he needed. “Thanks Gon.”

“Of course Killua! I’m your friend, and I support you, even if your parents don’t.” He smiled at Killua and then looked away, his face suddenly falling. “You know, it’s funny, you came to college to make your own life away from your parents, and I came to college to get closer to my dad and to shape my life to be like his. Makes me wonder if I'm doing the right thing. It hurt that he wasn't around and I guess that's why I want to follow in his footsteps. I just...I want it to be so great that I understand why it was worth leaving me.”

Killua had no idea what to say, but before he could figure it out, Gon was speaking again, his expression back to normal.

“You mentioned your brother, what’s he like? Is he supportive? Is he happy following in your father’s footsteps?”

He let out a bitter laugh. “Illumi does whatever he’s told, and he doesn’t complain. They like to bring him up a lot when I’m going against their wishes. He’s their perfect son, and life would be easier for all of us if I were more like him. He doesn’t support me or whatever, but to be fair, I don’t talk to him much, so he doesn’t really get the chance to anyway.”

“Is he your only sibling?”

“No, there’s actually five of us. Illumi, Milluki, Me, Kalluto, and Alluka.”

“Wow, that’s so many! I’m an only child, I always wanted siblings growing up.”

“Heh, that’s funny, growing up I always wanted to be an only child.” He laughed, Gon did too, though he looked a bit concerned.

“Alluka is really the only one I can talk to and spend time with.She still listens to mom and dad, she’s younger than me and still under their thumb, but she’s smart and down to earth. She sees through their bullshit and doesn’t buy into the life they push on us. Kalluto is up mom’s ass, and Illumi is up dad’s, and Milluki only cares about their money and his stupid tech start up. So it’s nice to not be alone against them, she always looks out for me, and I do the same for her.”

“I’m glad you have each other! I hate the thought of you all alone against your whole family. Even though I’m sure you could handle it, it’s nice to have someone on your side.”

Killua’s heart flipped in his chest. Ugh, why does that keep happening?

“Yeah, I’m glad we have each other too. I worry about her now that I’m so far away though. I know she can handle herself, but my parents are the worst, and I was always the buffer.”

Gon looked...angry? But he didn’t say anything immediately. He seemed to be mulling things over. “I don’t mean any offense, but your parents sound really mean.”

“I mean, they’re not nice by any stretch, but they don’t hit us or anything. Controlling and judgemental for sure, but it’s mostly cold indifference.”

Gon paused, turning his head to look directly into his eyes. Killua gulped.

“Just because your family didn’t give you much attention or show you kindness and affection, doesn’t mean you don’t deserve those things!” he emphasized his point by squeezing Killua’s hand under the blanket.

Killua’s cheeks were suddenly on fire, no doubt turning bright pink, and he was grateful the only light in the room was from the tv.

“Thanks, Gon.”

He didn’t have the nerve to squeeze back, he also didn’t quite expect the twinge of disappointment he felt when Gon let go of his hand.

After that, they fell into a comfortable silence, the storm was still raging on outside, the bowl of cheese puffs now laid discarded on the floor, and the baking show they’d been watching was entering the semi final. Gon let out a long yawn, stretching his limbs and leaning into Killua’s side.

His proximity fried his brain. He was trying his best to relax, but he felt stiff from head to toe with anxiety. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Gon close to him, it was just so new. When he felt Gon’s head fall onto his shoulder and rest there, he thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He was suddenly aware of his breathing and every move he made. He didn’t want to move or do anything to disturb Gon, so he decided the best course of action was to just relax. He focused on calming his breathing, and after a while his heartbeat was a little less frantic, and his body a little less tense.

He wasn’t used to this. Not just the cuddling, but the soft touches on his arm when they spoke sometimes, the hand on his shoulder when Gon was laughing extra hard, or the high fives and sometimes hugs when Gon was excited... It all felt so foreign. But still, as strange as it was to him, he couldn’t help but lean into it. Gon’s gravitational pull was seemingly inescapable.

In this moment, with Gon laying against him, head on his shoulder, it actually felt kind of... nice to be close to someone. He was warm and cozy as their body heat mingled under the blanket, and Gon was soft and solid against him. It was comforting in a way he’d never experienced, and couldn’t quite describe. When he actually let himself enjoy the affection instead of overthinking it, it felt pretty amazing. Without even realizing, he slowly began to let his guard down.

With Gon next to him he was actually distracted from his anxiety thoughts long enough for sleep to creep it’s way in. He felt so secure and comfortable, and it made him a little angry that he was falling asleep, he didn’t want this moment to end. When his eyelids started to feel heavy he knew he couldn’t fight it anymore.

He whispered, “Gon, I’m getting pretty tired, I think I’m gonna head to bed.”

No response.

He tried a little louder this time, “Gon?”

Nothing.

He slowly craned his neck to the side and saw that Gon’s face was slack, and his eyes were closed. He was asleep. His first thought was to gently wake him up so they could head their separate ways and go to bed. But when he tried to move, he just didn’t have it in him. His second thought was that maybe it would be okay to just let himself fall asleep. To let himself fall into the warmth and comfort of the moment, and to let his head gently rest against Gon’s as he drifted to sleep. And so he did.

[starryyastraea]

SHIP/OTP Questions for my main ships: Cambeck, Lunarie, and Camarie :) (because I am not sure which ships will end up canon y a y)

1. Who is the early bird/ Who is the night owl?

Valerie is definitely the night owl in every situation. She cannot fall asleep before 11pm, but even then likes to stay up. What do you expect? This girl stays up studying fairy tales and magic and then of course has to do all her school work at 1am. She’s a wreck.

Luna and Camden are early birds, and go to bed early. Do not understand Val’s need to stay up. Luna likes to get up early to work out and get ready for her day. She likes to be productive. Cam likes to watch the sunrise and gets inspiration from the early morning crap idk. He likes to be up and awake and ready. They both like to be awake before everyone else in the house and have alone time before they need to put on their ‘masks’.

Oliver is both? He likes to stay up late but can’t sleep in. So when he can, he naps during the day. Which he can’t. Get this poor boy some sleep, he's a mess. 

2. Who is the big spoon/ Who is the little spoon?

Cam is usually the big spoon and Val is the little spoon. He likes holding her and feeling like he can protect her, and vice versa. But sometimes, when Cam has had a bad day, he needs to be held. Val likes when she’s the big spoon because it’s when Cam is vulnerable idk words lol

Same thing here. Cam is usually the big spoon. Oliver would never initiate himself as the big spoon, but he wouldn’t turn Cam down if he wanted to be held.

LUNA IS A LITTLE SPOON LUNA IS A LITTLE SPOON SHE NEEDS TO BE HELD AND CUDDLED SHE IS A  B A B Y  HAH LITTLE BABY

3. Who hogs the cover/ Who loves to cuddle?

Okay so hear me out. They ALL love to cuddle. The most affectionate are Camden and Luna, then Valerie and then Oliver.

Val is a total cover hog, which is fine because Cam and Luna will just cuddle up to her and boom all is good.

Oliver. Will. Steal the covers. And when he’s sleeping he doesn’t care to cuddle. So Camden is lEFT FREEZING HIS LIL FACE OFF AND OLIVER DOESN’T KNOW NOR CARE BECAUSE HE’S ASLEEP

4. Who wakes the other one up with kisses?

Camden. Little kisses all over the face. With Val she’ll smile and return them, Oli will end up a blushing mess every single time.

If Val happens to somehow be awake before Luna? Like they both had a long night?? OOooffff. Luna is definitely that “Affection? Disgusting… Do it again” type of person so if Valerie ever woke Luna up with little kisses Luna would ACT like she hated them but they both know that's how she wants to be woken up for the rest of her life. Might do that to Valerie a few times and then deNY IT THE BRAT

5. Who usually has nightmares?

Honestly? Probably Luna. Her constant fear of wanting affection and attention keeps her up at night (Except not)

6. Who would have really deep emotional thoughts at the middle of the night/ Who would have them in the middle of the day?

B R U H. Valerie and Oliver would stay up late at night contemplating life and Camden would totally go along with it. 

Luna does her thinking during the day around people. That's how she realized she liked females and maybe being popular wasn’t really everything and woah no one has ever been inside and empty room….

7. Who sweats the small stuff?

Luna and Oliver when it comes to basic everyday things. They are worry warts, no matter how much they hide it. So poor Val and Cam need to tell them they’re doing okay and just. S t o p.

Cam sweats the small stuff when it comes to his partner. He’s a hopeless romantic and just wants his s/o to feel like the most loved and happy person in the world and constantly feels like he isn’t doing enough.

8. Who sleeps in their underwear (or naked)/ Who sleeps in their pajamas?

They all wear pajamas but if Valerie were alone on a hot night she would not pass up just her underwear and a giant t-shirt.

9. Who makes the coffee (or tea)?

Cam and Luna usually do since they wake up early, but Valerie always makes extra because she's a thirsty gal

10. Who likes sweet/ Who likes sour?

Cam and Oli are wholesome sweetie babies who love sweet.

Valerie likes both. She can’t choose just oNE …. :)

Luna likes sour things. Sour. That’s why she herself is so sour. She doesn’t like dessert-type food either. 

11. Who likes horror movies/ Who likes romance movies?

Camden is of course a sucker for romance movies, and so is Valerie. Oliver doesn’t mind them. Luna pretends to hate them and then finds herself up at 1am watching Hallmark movies. whoops

Cam is just a movie junkie and also loves horror. Val will watch them if someone else wants to, but does not go out of her way to choose to watch them. Luna and Oliver hate horror movies. Will not for any reason watch them.

12. Who is smol/ Who is tol?

Based off of energy, Luna and Cam have tol energy and Val and Oli have smol energy. Which works for their actual heights too… 

13. Who is considered the scaredy cat?

Oliver and Luna lMAOOOO poopy heads

14. Who kills the spiders?

Camden would kill it, but Valerie would take it outside while Oli and Luna are crying outside and planning on where to move. 

15. Who is scared of the dark?

Valerie actually is still scared of the dark...

16. Who is scared of thunderstorms?

Valerie and Luna. So they’re a mess together. Its… they need help… 

17. Who works/ Who stays at home?

Val, Cam, and Luna would all go out to work. And Oli is the homebody who just stays home/works from home. 

18. Who is a cat person/ Who is a dog person?

Oliver is a dog person.

Val likes both, leans toward cats.

Cam likes both, leans toward dogs.

Luna is not an animal person. Get them away from her. She won’t touch them. Gross.

19. Who loves to call the other one cute names?

VALERIE AND CAMDEN MOST DEFINITELY USE PET NAMES OMG KEEP THEM AWAY FROM ME EWW

Oliver might if he’s feeling confident. And we all know how Luna feels about affection. Gross 

20. Who is dominant/ Who is submissive?

Luna and Cam are most definitely doms. Cam is more like,,, a soft dom? Luna just. Dominant.

Val is a switch and will most definitely dom both Cam and Luna and even though they’re also doms it’s like,,, you can’t just dom dom Val, y’know? If she wants to dom she’s gonna dom

Oliver is a subby sub we all been known hes b a b y

21. Who has an obsession (over anything)?

VALERIE AND WE BEEN KNEW

Cam has an obsession with memes and his love

Oli obsesses over books

Luna is obsessed with herself whoops

22. Who goes all out for Valentine’s Day?

CAMDEN OMG HE WOULD GO ALL. OUT. FOR HIS LOVE BECAUSE ITS LOVE DAY AND HE LOOOOVES YOOOUUUUu

23. Who asks who out on the first date?

Cam always makes the first move

Luna usually makes the first move, but Valerie had to ask her on the first date because Luna is an idiot.

24. Who is the talker/ Who is the listener?

Cam is the talker and Oli is the listener. Obvi.

Cam and Val? Booooth. They both do both. Mutual loving relationship. They’re idiots. I hate them. 

Val will talk and talk and talk and Luna doesn’t listen unless it’s like a serious heart-to-heart. Luna doesn’t talk about her feelings and Val has to force them out of her.

25. Who wears the other ones clothes?

Ohmygosh Valerie wears everyones clothes regardless of who shes with.

When Luna/Cam see her in one of their shirts? They m e l t

Luna loves to dress Valerie up in her clothes

And Oliver likes to steal Cams clothes sometimes. He wouldn’t go out in public but Cam is just so much bigger than him so the clothes awh baby okay

26. Who likes to eat healthy/ Who loves junk food?

Valerie, Cam, and Oli all love junk food and Luna physically cannot down junk food.

Cam and Oli know how to eat healthy though

Valerie… she lives off of caffeine and potato chips she does not know what a carrot is. Like carrot cake? No? Then idk she dont know

27. Who takes a long shower/ Who sings in the shower?

Valerie does both

Camden and Oli take long showers

Luna is in and out. And somehow was able to effectively wash all her hair, clean and shave her entire body, give herself like a full facial and mani-pedi, buy a house, perform heart surgery, and like brush her teeth in like ten minutes.

28. Who is the book worm?

Oliver and Valerie lol

29. Who is the better cook?

Luna and Valerie cannot cook for crap

And Cam is better at baking...

Has Oliver ever even step foot in a kitchen??

...they’ll all just order takeout. for the benifit of literally everyone.

30. Who likes long walks on the beach?

Camden and Valerie would

Luna prefers to like,,, sunbathe. That’s the only reason to be at the beach lol

Oliver doesn’t do beaches.

31. Who is more affectionate?

Cam and Val and we been knew

32. Who likes to have really long (deep) conversation?

AGAIN. CAM AND VAL. IT’S LIKE THEY WERE MADE FOR EACH OTHER HMM

33. Who would wear “not guilty” t-shirt/ Who would wear “sin” t-shirt?

Luna- Not guilty, Val- Sin

Oli- Not guilty, Cam- Sin

CAM AND VAL ARE JUST SIN AHH

34. Who would wear “if lost return to…” t-shirt/ Who would wear “I am…” t-shirt?

Valerie and Oliver do be gettin lost tho

Need to be returned to Luna and Cam

35. Who goes overboard on the holidays?

omg Camden my boi. He’s just so excited and hyped. Also, his family is no help because they’re always going overboard

Valerie will also go overboard. But nobody beats Camden lol

36. Who is the social media addict?

Luna?? Have you met this chick??

37. Height difference or age difference?

Luna and Val have a three inch height difference (when Luna is wearing flats), and Valerie is older by like... two months

OKAY Valerie and Camdens height difference is 10 inches. awh. I’m a sucker for height differences look at themmmmm. And then Cam is seven months older

Cam is only three inches taller than Oliver :) And Cam claims the title as the oldest, being four months older than Oli

38. Who likes to star gaze?

Omh Camden is such a hopeless romantic and he’ll do this just so he can turn his head and see his love staring up with the stars in their eyes. Also so he can use dumb star related pick up lines on them

Valerie loves this! Look up at the stars! So pretty! She may not know anything about them, but she loves them!

Luna will join Valerie because yeah, they’re pretty :) And so is the cute girl next to her whoop

39. Who buys cereal for the prize inside?

.....Camden

40. Who is the fun parent/ Who is the responsible parent?

When it comes to parenting, Valerie and Cam would be a fun/responsible duo. They are both the good cop and bad cop. They know how to balance it, because they grew up with balanced parents.

Luna would be more responsible. She isn’t exactly a ‘kid’ person, and really didn’t have great parental influences growing up, and doesn’t want to have her child run off and be unsupervised/feel neglected like her

Oliver is in a similar boat. 

SO THANK GOODNESS FOR VAL AND CAM

41. Who cries during sad movies?

Omg I swear Camden and Valerie are like the same person it’s disgusing. Anyways. They.

Oliver may? Depends on how sad it is.

Luna has no emotions. Gross.

42. Who is the neat freak?

V A L E R I E omg she will clean up the smallest mess. Which is funny because you look at her and her bedroom and think she’s a mess herself which she is but she’s an orginzed mess

43. Who wins the stuffed animals at the carnival for the other one?

Valerie and Camden will be competitive and try to win each other prizes, but like, against the other? If that makes sense?

Oliver will gladly accept what Cam wins for him

When Val offers to win one for Luna, she’ll be like ‘ew gross I don’t want one of those’. Valerie gets one anyways, and Luna adores it anyways.

44. Who is active/ Who is lazy?

Honestly none of them are lazy per se, but the most active I think are Luna and Valerie. I mean, Luna is just an active, work-outy person. Valerie just cannot sit still for longer than three minutes. 

Camden and Oli like to relax from time to time. Just. Sit. Alone or with each other. 

45. Who is more likely to get drunk?

Luna and Cam (poor Valerie lol)

46. Who has the longer food order?

Camden!! This boy eats a lot!! And where does it all go?!

47. Who has the more complex coffee order?

Ohmygoodness Valerie. She drinks so much coffee, and her orders are always different and bizarre. 

48. Who loses stuff?

Oliver. Poor boy. Val misplaces things quite often, too.

49. Who is the driver/ Who is the passenger?

Camden is the only good driver here.

Between Luna and Val, Valerie drives but only because Luna refuses to. That does not mean she is good.

50. Who is the hopeless romantic?

The obvious answer here is Camden. He takes the cake for being a hopeless romantic. He loves the idea of love, and being in love. Having someone to love. Love. He goes over the top, stares at them, he’s just in love and isn’t afraid to show it.

HOWEVER

I think all of them, once in their relationship, shows how hopelessly romantic they are for their loves. That’s just what happens when you’re with the one.

lol. I know this isn’t like... how this was supposed to go but I couldn’t choose just one couple :)

[cloudfiveclub]

i just had this random idea all of a sudden and i needed to write it out so please enjoy this ambiguous piece of writing from Aaliyah’s perspective

So like, I was just imagining our little Aaliyah laying in bed late at night, maybe like 1am, and she’s scared, there was a really sudden thunderstorm outside, and the thunder and lightning was scaring her. She’d woken up because of the thunder.

Her papa is just down the hallway, and she doesn’t want to be alone. The thunder was scary. She lets out a little yelp as another strike of lightning appears across the sky and lights up her room momentarily, so she climbs out of bed, clutching her favourite stuffed toy, and scampers down the hallway towards his room.

The door’s closed, and she’s a little tiny and isn’t strong enough, so she’s unable to reach up and open the door herself. She goes to knock, but then there’s a little whimper from inside. She knows papa’s girlfriend is with him, and it sounded like she was hurt! She presses her tiny ear against the door, and she’s shocked to find Y/N begging for her papa to stop doing something. There’s a couple of bangs here and there, and Aaliyah starts hopping up and down on the spot, worried for Y/N.

She hears her papa saying something, but she doesn’t recognize or understand his words, but then she hears Y/N telling papa she “can’t take anymore”. She knows what that means. Was papa hurting Y/N?

Her daddy was very nice, and she’s only ever saw him get very very mad once. It was a little scary. What if he was mad at Y/N now? She’d seen her friends’ parents spank or scold them a little when they were naughty. They cried a bit. Maybe papa was scolding Y/N and she was upset. But Aaliyah didn’t like when Y/N was upset.

She didn’t want to make papa mad more if he was, so she musters up as much bravery as she can, and waddles downstairs towards the phone. She took a while on the stairs but she reaches the hall soon. She knows tio Zabdiel’s number. Tio Zabdiel will calm papa down and tell him not to be mad at Y/N.

She clumsily dials the number, and she’s greeted by his sleepy voice after a few rings. She tries telling him as best as she can what’s happening. But he doesn’t get it, and she wants to cry because she doesn’t know how to say some things. He doesn’t understand her.

“Papa hurting Y/N,” she babbles quietly. “Tio Zabdiel come here to help Y/N,” she finally says.

Zabdiel’s tired, and he frowns when she says that. What did she mean by “papa’s hurting Y/N”? Richard wouldn’t hurt her. Still, Aaliyah sounds concerned and on the brink of tears, so he tells her he’d be over soon.

He drives over as fast as he can, but is careful because of how hard it’s raining. Aaliyah opens the door up for him with much effort and his guidance when he reaches Richard’s house. And Aaliyah looks worried.

“Papa esta en su habitacion,” she mumbles, tugging at his pant leg. Zabdiel scoops her up in his arms, and makes his way upstairs. The house is dead silent except for the pitter patter of the rain outside.

He can’t hear anything or see anything out of the ordinary, but Aaliyah’s clutching his shirt tightly and looks worried. He knocks on Richard’s door, and there’s a faint “fuck”, followed by stumbling before the door swings open. Richard’s in basketball shorts, but he’s heaving and panting.

He’s thrown off to see Zabdiel in his house in the dead of the night, and his bandmate is similarly confused as to what is happening. Aaliyah finally wiggles out of Zabdiel’s arms, and she scampers over to Y/N. She’s panting, and she’s shocked when Aaliyah wraps her tiny arms around her tightly.

“Are you okay?” she asks innocently and Y/N raises her eyebrows and assures her she’s fine. Aaliyah isn’t convinced. There’s bruises on her neck and chest. She’s hurt. She offers her stuffed toy to Y/N. It will comfort her while she deals with papa.

“Papa is hurting Y/N?” she demands. She turns toward her papa, frowning as scarily as she can. She needs to teach papa a lesson. She hops off the bed, running over to him and hits his leg once. But papa and tio Zabdiel are laughing and she doesn’t know why.

Papa squats down and explains that she’ll go back home with tio Zabdiel tonight. But she doesn’t want to leave Y/N alone just in case. She pouts and throws a little tantrum, but papa and tio zabdiel assures that there’s nothing happening. They won’t tell her what’s going on, only saying that it was “adult things”.

She knows what that is. Only things meant for grown ups, like papa, tio zabdiel and Y/N. But not for Aaliyah. Tio Zabdiel picks her up, and papa gives him some of her things in a bag, including her stuffie, and he tells her he’ll pick her up tomorrow afternoon. She’ll get to spend some time with tio zabdiel.

But they don’t tell her what’s going on, so she makes tio Zabdiel’s life a little difficult for a while. But eventually he explains that Y/N is fine and that her papa really loves Y/N, and that he was “showing her how much he loves her”. It was strange, because she knows to show someone you love them, you kiss them. Papa kisses both Aaliyah and Y/N. But he didn’t look like he was kissing Y/N.

Tio Zabdiel tells her she will understand when she’s older. She hopes she can understand when she’s at least 5. 5 is a very old age. She’s satisfied with the answer she has. He plays with her for a bit before she gets sleepy. She hopes that papa is at least protecting Y/N from the scary thunder and lightning like Tio Zabdiel is protecting her.

[nothingbutalgae]

Fuck my neighbors

So besides the crazy old woman that lives on one side of us we have a family that consists of a husband and wife both named Kim and their 3 children (all of whom are 22+ years old), two of which have substance abuse problems. Anyway since Ive been born this family has caused so much trouble, getting woken up at 3am because one of the sons was driving drunk and got pulled over in his driveway and proceeded to call the black cop the N-word and scream Fuck you ****** at the cop, at 3-fucking-am, right outside my parents bedroom window (the cop ended up shoving his face in a snow bank covered in ice which was fucking hilarous and karma)? me and my brother ending up watching their rat terrier murder one of their chickens right on the other side of the chain link fence when we were younger? the husband out chainsawing at 11pm during a fucking thunderstorm? wild loud parties that last under 1am? Having to call the family at their work because "why the fuck are there chickens are your roof!?"? Anyway I have 20 years of stories about these people but Im typically still the most calm about them and don't normally go out and tell them to knock it off if they are doing something, except for tonight. I just got off work. It is 10pm. I am sitting in my kitchen with a window open when all of the sudden I start hearing really loud noises. At first I go "oh brother must be watching tv", except I walk over to my brother's room and hes dead asleep with the tv off so Im like... ok... wtf. I walk out to the family room where the porch sliding door is open and immediately get fucking enraged when i realized its the neighbors blasting music from the way-back-corner of their backyard (aka an entire fucking football field away from my house) and I fucking lost it. I flipped on the back flood lights and got nothing in response so I let the dogs out to bark. Still no change in music. Finally I walk out there armed with a flashlight and yell "CAN YOU TURN YOUR MUSIC DOWN PLEASE" and still get no fucking response. It took me yelling and shining a flashlight through the solid wood fence (which we installed partially as a noise barrier btw) for the husband to notice me and he goes "WHAT?" and I said "CAN YOU TURN THE MUSIC DOWN?" and he goes "oh" and turns it down quite a bit and he goes "i didnt think anyone was home" and its like that's great Kim but it is fucking 10pm and the entire fucking neighborhood could hear your music

[bondsmagii]

some peak aesthetics from my recent trip:

waking up at 5am on the first morning, barely aware of where I was, in the pitch dark. as I lay there, knowing something must have woken me up, I hear the call to prayer from the mosque across the street, and lay there in the dark listening to it. it's warm and peaceful, and I'm still pleasantly sleepy.

flying over the city at night, seeing it seem to go on forever. it looks alive even from that height and is the brightest thing I've ever seen. the streets seem to glitter and later in the taxi I realise they are -- the trees are all wrapped in white glittering lights.

lounging in a hotel room at 1am, with several other people, all of us in fine evening wear. we're talking about multiple subjects and occasionally conversing in bad second languages. I'm drinking straight out of a bottle that did contain whiskey but now contains red wine from the mini bar.

careening through the busy streets with a talkative taxi driver, who, somehow, is managing to drive, eat, wash his hands, and text, all at the same time. occasionally he yells out of the window at another driver and then turns to us in exasperation. we don't share a common language, but we all know what his hand gesture means. we all agree.

the cork is stuck in the wine so we go down in full evening wear to the hotel lobby. it's 3am and they manage to get it open for us. I spot a stray cat outside and open the door, and sit petting it for a while, wearing a suit. rather then tell me not to encourage it, one of the night managers greets the cat enthusiastically and pets it with me.

flying home and feeling all the hair on my arms and legs sticking up. I wonder what it is and almost immediately after think 'lightning'. a minute later I watch a massive thunderstorm from the plane window. the distant clouds are completely lighting up. the lightning is at the same height as the plane. we are flying at 33,000 feet.

it was a pretty cool trip.