#I am having a bad time of it tonight lads my brain is

[ohbaby-here-we-go-again]

I’ve seen a couple people say “I want a relationship like sleep token lyrics,” or something of a similar ilk, with the replies being “ bro have you listened to the lyrics ??”

Now I would like to first off say, I agree…. But also…. I do not.

Stay with me people, let me explain…

Ok, first we must consider which of the three major archetypes of sleep token songs is being referred to. These are as follows: 1) “wowowow I’m so in love, flame of my soul, muse of my poetry, let us entangle ourselves in every time and every universe,” 2) “…alright lads, I may have gotten myself… into a perhaps not so good situation again….but also sexy times,” 3) “fuckfuckfuckfuck i hate it here i hate you but also someone please love me pleasepleaseplease I just want someone to love me.” Note: not all songs fit neatly into these groupings, some songs may sit between them or flip back and forth between verses.

Now if someone said they want a love like a sleep token lyrics, and they were referring to the first type, then they could mean a song like “drag me under” where you get the absolute banger line, “And I know the angels tonight are as lost for words //As I am to merely behold you as we lie down together.” Or perhaps ‘Telomeres,’ which, while a little more emotionally charged, is generally still pretty hopeful in my opinion.

Or perhaps a song like ‘Alkaline,’ ‘Give,’ or ‘Jaws.’ Where the lyrics are a little more seeped in desire, in seeing the faults and the possible darkness in a person, in acknowledging its presence, and wanting them anyway. Which isn’t inherently bad for a relationship, you just need to make sure it doesn’t come to impact it in an unhealthy way….

We must also of course acknowledging those of us who have goofy little traumatised brains, that see a red flag and go “well boy howdy, sign me up for some of that”…. I am looking you entire middle section of Ascensionism…

Or the lesser but still unhealthy element of, yearning that has turned almost obsessive, or ‘I see your pain, let us be in pain together.’

And then of course all of this hinges on whether or not you’re dealing with songs individually or as a collective, and if you are seeing it through a reality adjacent lens or a lore/Sleep lens. Because the moment you add in that connection and continuity between songs, particularly if you relate them back to Sleep, then yea, even the most innocent of lyrics becomes tainted.

I would also be remiss, to not acknowledge the possibility that “I want a love like sleep token lyrics” is in fact a short hand for “I want to be loved by someone like vessel.” In turn meaning, I want to be desired in my entirety. My flaws recognised, my pain understood - to be loved by someone so willing to give. Who is, seemingly, so full of love that it pours out his heart like a faucet and floods any cup offered - even if it overflows, or is later tipped onto the sidewalk.

Finally, there is the likely and understanding angle of, “hot man say pretty words and make brain goo”… which you know what fair enough.

If you have made it this fair I am giving you a kiss on the forehead for enabling my silliness, and also casting a spell to make you forget all the spelling and grammar errors you likely just trudged through >:]

[weirdmorefics]

Can I plz request a Bridgerton!brother

who around Benedict age who very nice and charming with everyone and everyone but the Bridgerton’s thinks a flirt and a rake

Doubt

Pronouns- He/Him

Word Count- 1,193

Summary- Y/N Bridgerton announces to the family that he is going to propose to a woman and the Bridgerton family is shocked.

I take a deep breath and prepare myself for family dinner because I know this will be a rough one. Today I announce to my family that I am planning an engagement. Now that may not sound nerve racking to the average lad most families would be ecstatic. However, my family does not think of me so highly they expect that I must be some outlandish rake like my elder brothers just because I am Benedict’s twin. I’ve never understood the twinly stereotype that we must be the same since we were born on the same day. If anything we couldn’t be more different.   

Benedict has always thought with his heart and is only focused on his art I prefer to think with my brain that was until I met her. She has made me feel like no feeling I have ever felt before I want to think with my heart now. My family however assumes me to be an emotional twin of Benedict obsessed with women and hobbies. I try to prove them wrong by being kind and charming but I think it just gives them a worse impression of me.

I put on my nicest clothes and play with my hair a little to long until I am satisfied. I am determined to show my family how serious I am about this girl and it isn’t just a fling not that I would ever see a girl without an escort. I walk out of my room with a serious face to only be stopped by Colin.

“You are looking quite dapper Y/N off to see a lady?” He winks and I roll my eyes in return.

“You know I am the one who called for you all to be at family dinner,” I sigh in annoyance and hold the bridge of my nose.

“What has you knickers in a twist,” he asks.

“Nothing,”I clear my throat and brush my hands on my clothes for the millionth time. 

I walk away from Colin so he would hopefully forget this conversation and dinner will go as smooth as I plan. I make my way to the dining room and inspect the layout of the dishes the maids have set. I’ve even chosen a meal I know my family likes but doesn’t like to much so there is no arguing about how much everyone got. I have picked a royal purple table cloth to represent the riches that come with marriage not that we need her dowry. I just need to show my family that I am serious about this marriage and not the rake they think I am.

The firsts to arrive are Mother, Anthony, and Daphne. I fiddle with my hands because I can already tell that they are in a bad mood from the dirty looks that Daphne keeps shooting Anthony. I pull the chair out for Mother and Anthony makes his way to the head of the table.

“This table cloth is quite decadent I do not recall owning.” Mother ponders out loud.

“And the fine china is out. Are we having any guests tonight?” Daphne adds.

I quickly assure them that I just thought it would be nice for a family dinner and they nod wordlessly. Colin enters chasing Francesca, Hyacinth, and Gregory in. It seems like they were playing a game before they came in but Mother is quick to stop them.

“No running in the house!” She says sternly and my siblings immediately halt and make there way to the table.

Of course last to join us is Benedict and Eloise who reek of cigar smoke which only heightens my nerves because Benedict is not only setting a bad example but this will surely cause Eloise and Mother to fight.

Anthony laughs, “Nice of you two join us.”

I quickly hush him and smile, “They are here that's all that matters.”

Anthony looks at me suspiciously at my effort to keep the peace.

Mother smiles at my words, “You are so right Y/N we will hardly get any family dinners like this after Daphne is married I mean we are missing so many family dinners now due to Daphne being so busy with suitors.”

“Not that busy due to Anthony,” Daphne mumbles under her breath causing Eloise to let out a small chuckle.

I try to find a quick way to change the subject but am unfortunately to late when Anthony is quick to make a daring comment back.

“I am the man of the house you would be nowhere without me! Would you rather the twins be in charge of your season? They are to busy being rakes! They could never take care of this family the way I do! I do not understand why you are being such a brat!” Anthony’s rant feels like it goes on forever and I have to hold my head so I don’t explode due to rage.

Daphne is seething and I feel truly bad for her she is the only one who gets me in this family she takes the time to listen and I think it is because no one listens to her. She actually helped me plan this dinner even though she is busy with the season and she’s the only sibling I have told about my engagement. I just hope she can let this argument go so the dinner can go smoothly.

“Maybe I would rather have Y/N be the head of the household at least he actually listens to me!” She shouts back and I facepalm in response. This dinner is not going to be at all like I planned.

Eloise laughs at the idea and Colin is sitting very awkwardly due to the argument. I sigh knowing this argument will last all dinner so I take a deep breath and come right out with it.

“I am engaged..” I blurt out.

Benedict was mid drink but it is quickly shot out of his nose and on to the once clean table cloth. Eloise is hysterically laughing at my statement and at Benedict while Hyacinth and Gregory stare in utter shock.

Mother’s face is truly one of disappointment, “ That is not a funny joke Y/N.”

“It’s not funny because it’s true,” I say trying my best to stay composed.

“There is no way a rake like you and I Y/N can settle down,” Anthony responds.

“That is your choice to believe that but this woman makes me feel things I have never felt before they are pure feelings that I never want to get rid of. You can either accept that or not be a part of my life but that would disappointment me greatly.” I respond for once feeling heard and assured.

Mother’s eyes are tearing up, “I am proud of the man you have become I only wish you had told me about her sooner. So when can we we meet her?”

Benedict smiles widely at me “Yes, we must meet the Woman that has turned you into a lovesick fool.”

Daphne responds “Oh she surely is quite the woman.”

“YOU’VE MET HER!” The whole family says chaotically and out of sync.

Support Me Here

[iammissingautumn]

Assigning South Park M5 Mitski lyrics/songs

Stan Marsh - Brand New City

Think my brain is rotting in places

I think my heart is ready to die

I think my body is falling in pieces

-

I think my life is losing momentum

I think my ways are wearing me down

Stan Marsh is a character who has never been only about his depression or/and his levels of self hatred he has expressed in a place like Your Getting Older. But I feel like this really gets to the core of how he kinda views his unwinding. This kinda realization that the way you’re living is hurting you like you’re your own dislocated shoulder grating yourself down. I think that fits him.

Butters Stotch - Working For The Knife

I cry at the start of every movie

I guess 'cause I wish I was making things too

But I'm working for the knife

I always knew the world moves on

I just didn't know it would go without me

I used to think I'd be done by twenty

Now at twenty-nine, the road ahead appears the same

Though maybe at thirty, I'll see a way to change

That I'm living for the knife

I think this reflects a very specific way that Victor ended up being. The way that he could be wishing for more and so on. He works in a harmful industry and he had such a penchant for creativity as a kid and the arts (tap dancing, drawing, singing, playing guitar, etc) and yet when he grows up he gets into Post Covid’s scheme.

Which feels so much inspired from his Professor Chaos persona, which was born out of being hurt when he was young. And he was hurt when he was young largely because of how his parents abuse shaped him. Which is why I feel like “I always knew the world moves on. I just didn’t know it would move without me.” is such a good line for him. Butters was abused heavily for breathing, almost killed by his own mom, etc. His only solace could be his friends yet Cartman hurt him as well, rejection and malice all over the place. Until Butters was someone Cartman could use as a pawn, but as that happened over time Butters became his own ball of bad traits (he’s so misogynistic, racist, such a bully as of more recent times) and never was given a space to understand what was happening to his brain and was so upset by the bad things he leaned into it till it bled out of the Professor Chaos persona and became Worse.

He wants to be better, he wishes he could be. But he’s working for the knife!

Kenny McCormick - A Burning Hill

I'm tired of wanting more

I think I'm finally worn

I am a forest fire

And I am the fire and I am the forest

And I am a witness watching it

And I'll go to work and I'll go to sleep

And I'll love the littler things

Kenny being stuck in this cycle of (forced and self) sacrifice results in this cracked image of a lad. Expecting better from Cartman, expecting his other two friends to notice, expecting his parents to get better. I think there’s a level of hope in a young child that he feel that’s eroded away with time. And then he becomes the person who’s the destructive fire, and he is the forest being burned, and he’s the person not doing anything but being able to watch. He can’t stop his deaths but it’s in him.

With this ending promise of something more, of maybe being able to grow and expand. Love more. Have more. Not eternally burning.

Eric Cartman - Remember My Name

I gave too much of my heart tonight

Cause I need somebody to remember my name

I need someone to remember me

I need something bigger than the sky

Hold it in my arms and know it's mine

Eric Cartman has this distinct need for validation that moves him in such a specific way. Often when thinking he’s gotten himself in a corner we find that he’s actually on top of it all. Scott Tennorman Must Die is a good example of seeing him tempted purely because of how other people see him because of the stupid mistake. Along with this he has this distinct naivety (Butthole’s backstory is that their dad fucked their mom) that comes out in certain spots that show how much he cares about how people view him. On top of this he enjoys things like Butters being a minion of his. And his want and need for control, I think it fits well of him viewing that as a legacy, as wanting to be seen.

Kyle Broflovski - First Love/Late Spring

But I find that lately

I've been crying like a tall child

胸がはち切れそうで

And I was so young when I behaved twenty-five

Yet now, I find I've grown into a tall child

And I don't wanna go home yet

First Love/Late Spring is a song riddled with romanticization and dependency that I would attribute more to someone like Stan rather than Kyle. Yet these parts stood out individually to me as something that felt so deeply Kyle. Kyle is a character who spends a lot of time pushing aside other things to fight and speak out for the “just” cause. Often sacrificing his own time and mind to fight for the right cause, usually against Cartman. So I think there’s something particularly Kyle about this. How he’s stepped up as a young child, socially and interpersonally. But I imagine as he gets older that stuff kinda chips away and he sees the cost it does to him.

There’s this lost feeling he has connected to him. Something that I think would follow him he never checks in on himself as he grows up. The feeling of your chest about to burst, your world crumbling. His issues come about in a very different way. He looks productive but it hurts him, and I believe Kyle to be more emotionally intelligent then the rest and find a way to deal with this. But when he can’t, or even while he is, he has this hit of this experience the lyrics highlight.

[nuala-luna]

I fr feel so ugly and undesirable and gross what the hell is even wrong with me

[lixxen]

I Bet My Life (H.G Wells x Male!Reader)

H.G Wells x Male! Reader

So uh, hiya. This is for Time After Time. I haven't finished it yet, but I'm on episode 8 or 9. So uh, yeah, the ending is based off of what I wish would happen. I also chose the first H.G gif I found lol. So, sorry guys. That's the gif you get. Also didn't beta/edit this. rip

Sorry lads that its Male!Reader, I simply cannot function outside of my little gay pea brain sometimes. Yes this is based off of an Imagine Dragons song, shut up.

Anyways, I wrote this 3k word monstrosity in about an hour and a half based off of an idea I pitched to another writer.

For @neptuneswritingwork

Warnings: Angst, anxiety attacks(?)

--

It was late at night in the Wells’ Estate.

It wasn’t uncommon for H.G to call many people to his home at this time, but tonight felt different. It was raining and it had set a mood for the den. The friends inside were chatting quietly amongst each other, talking about their respective academics and news.

Watching from the side of the room was a single person, a male who was barely dressed for the occasion. Ever so slightly overdressed, as he never understood how to dress for this class and function. It took him years of interacting with H.G to gain the knowledge to interact with H.G’s colleagues.

The man brought his glass of some type of expensive whiskey to his mouth and took a long sip. The taste burned his tongue and the liquid lit his throat on fire as it went down. It felt almost as if the liquid had a distaste for him like most of the folks in the room. The man sighed as he sat the glass onto the fire mantle next to him.

The man loved H.G to death, but he never understood why H.G had the need to invite him to these parties. Only a few of H.G’s friends genuinely liked the man and got along with him. H.G always complained that the man wasn’t social enough and needed to get along with his friends. The man never openly disagreed, but he wished that H.G wouldn’t at least abandon him during these gatherings.

A soft knock at the door drew the man’s thoughts away from the party. He walked out of the small den and into the foyer. He waved the housekeep away with a small motion and a smile before he opened the door.

Behind the door stood Dr. John Stevenson; one of the only friends of H.G that genuinely enjoyed his presence.

“Y/n. I’m surprised to see you here.” John’s mouth turned from a straight expression to a genuine smile as he walked in. John put his hand on Y/n’s forearm and squeezed it lightly.

“Same for you, Dr. Stevenson. You’re late as always.” Y/n smiled back at John as he had sat his bad next to the door.

“Well, it is better late than not to show up.” John patted Y/n’s arm after he let him go.

Y/n shook his head and followed John towards the den, where H.G had rejoined the group once more. H.G’s face looked slightly strained as he was talking to Jamenson, but the second his eyes found Y/n his face relaxed. H.G then looked at John and laughed.

“Look who showed up!” H.G stood up and clapped once. “You’re soaking, John!”

“I am not that soaked, H.G.” John shook his head as H.G walked over to John and Y/n.

H.G stood close to Y/n, close enough where their arms brushed each other. Just enough for Y/n to be able to feel him.

“I’m guessing Y/n let you in?” H.G tilted his head towards Y/n but kept looking at John.

“Of course. He was delightful as always. I understand why you have him around all the time, H.G.” John spoke with a genuine smile that made Y/n happy. The other men in the room didn’t seem to agree with their expressions, but they did not say anything. “My friend, you were talking to me about your machine last night. Would you be so kind as to show me?”

H.G grinned at the mention of his time machine, which he and Y/n had been fussing over for the last few months. H.G would work on it for nights upon nights and Y/n would have to come to the basement to drag the man back into the real world. Y/n didn’t know if it would work or not. The science was there, but it was untested. It could all just be a dream that would be shattered the second they tested it.

“I would love to see your machine, Wells.” Jamenson stood up, prompting the other men to nod in agreement.

“Well, come along and I will show you.” H.G waved them along with him.

The group followed H.G down to his basement and H.G explained the machine to the lot of them. How the machine should work, the key that controlled the machine. The theoretics of it. Everything that Y/n had memorized by now.

A few of the men made jokes before heading back up; leaving John, H.G and Y/n in the basement. Y/n watched as John’s expression became odd. He had never seen John��s expression twist in such a way, especially when John thought no one was looking.

When John asked H.G what was stopping him from trying it, Y/n had felt an odd feeling in his stomach. Something was wrong and Y/n didn’t know how to explain it. He had felt this before, but not around John or H.G. It was odd and Y/n hated it.

The two men laughed at whatever they were saying and it snapped Y/n out of his thoughts. H.G and Y/n made eye contact and Y/n smiled at H.G. The three started to walk up the stairs together. Y/n could feel H.G’s hand on his back as they walked up. The small contact was all they could share while the other men were here. John knew of their activities behind closed doors, but he never spoke of them with them. Y/n knew that John knew, especially with the small looks that John gave to the two of them when they had thought no one was looking. Y/n always caught them and smiled back.

The three made it to the top of the stairs as the knock on the door came. H.G voiced how odd it was that someone would be knocking his late as he went towards the door. Y/n stepped a few feet away from the basement and John, stopping only when Scotland Yard stepped through the door. They had announced The Ripper had struck again and were doing searches.

Y/n bit his lip, feeling remorse for the woman who must have died merely hours ago. Y/n turned to say something to John but stopped as he opened his mouth. John was gone and the door was cracked. Y/n glanced around before turning back to the police. They had John’s bag and were opening it.

Y/n felt his heart skip a beat as the police showed a bloody knife.

H.G turned to Y/n and the basement door.

“Where’s John?” H.G asked.

“I don’t know. He just disappeared.” Y/n felt fear crawling over his skin. He had been close friends with The Ripper this whole time. He invited The Ripper into his own home and had dinner with him in intimate quarters.

H.G pushed past Y/n as the room erupted into chaos. Y/n turned to watch H.G disappear down into the basement. It didn’t click for a second as people around him were yelling. Them calling John’s name and H.G’s name filled his ears. Then it clicked.

The time machine.

Y/n lurched forward before he started to walk back down into the basement. Y/n took the steps two at a time, hoping that he would get down quick enough. Within a few seconds, he found out he wasn’t quick enough.

Y/n stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking at the time machine. It was whirring away and slowly freezing over just like H.G had predicted. Within the machine sat H.G, who was looking back at him.

“NO!” Y/n lurched forward again, holding a hand out.

H.G yelled something that Y/n couldn’t hear. Y/n just saw H.G speaking from the other side of the glass before the frost covered it. Y/n made it a few steps towards the machine before it disappeared with a small blast. Y/n fell backwards, onto the ground, as it hit him.

Y/n sat on the ground, eyes wide.

Y/n blinked at the empty space in front of him before reality slowly crept in. Panic started to climb through his lungs, burning up his throat as it slowly closed. Y/n’s eyes started to tear up as he moved to sit on his knees.

“H.G…” Y/n whispered it and it came out broken. “Please don’t be gone.”

Y/n looked around the room and wiped his eyes.

The time machine was really gone. H.G and assumingly John was also gone. This means that it worked.

It worked.

That means that H.G and John were gone.

“NO!” Y/n screamed into the room. His voice cracked towards the end and he slammed his fists onto the ground.

What if they didn’t come back? What if H.G gets stuck in the future and cannot come back. What if the machine breaks and he cannot come back? What if H.G gets killed or captured? Forever stuck in the future against his will?

What if H.G decides he wants to stay in the future and not come back? Abandoning him in the past for him to pay for everything that they had created up to now. He could fall in love with some man or woman wherever he went and not want to leave them in the future; abandoning them like he had just done to Y/n.

Y/n’s eyes stung as his thoughts went wild. The different possibilities cemented their way into Y/n’s brain as he started to sob on the concrete floor. He couldn’t handle the idea that H.G would simply leave him in 1893 and not come home automatically, with or without John.

Hands came to Y/n’s arms and Y/n tried to push them off. He blinked as the tears kept blocking his view and he raised a hand to wipe his tears. He kept pushing the person off as they tried to help him get to his feet, which he started to stand on his own after a moment.

Y/n turned to see Mrs. Nelson, the housekeeper, trying to grab onto his arm as Scotland Yard stood on the stairs. The policemen were staring at him in confusion while the other guests were in shock. The guests then looked to Y/n, who was now holding back more tears.

“It worked.” Jamenson spoke up first. “Bloody hell.”

“What worked?” One of the policemen asked.

“The bloody time machine.” Another man spoke up. “John must have taken it first. Bloody maniac.”

Mrs. Nelson slowly brought Y/n up the stairs and the men moved out of the way.

“What’s his problem?” One of the policemen whispered just loud enough for Y/n to hear once they got to the top of the stairs.

“He, Wells, and Stevenson were good friends; he was closer to them than we ever were. If Stevenson is in fact The Ripper and if Wells and Stevenson are gone, his only form of family is gone.” One of the men responded.

“The poor man.”

-

Y/n stared blankly at the fireplace as Mrs. Nelson moved around the room.

It was day four, Y/n believed. He hasn’t been keeping track.

But H.G and John hadn’t come home yet.

Y/n hadn’t felt this way in years. Not since his late parents passed. Not since his wife had left him for another man. Not since his child hadn’t made it to birth. This was a cold feeling that made his fingertips numb. It spread slowly from his fingers and up into his elbows. It made him feel stiff and fake. Like nothing would be able to break his trance and bring life back into him.

Not even the warm tea that Mrs. Nelson would slowly put into his hands and slowly guide the first sip. Not the warm stew she prepared for him every night.

Only H.G coming back, maybe even with John, could fix the hollow and cold feeling that had come to occupy him.

Oh, how Y/n missed H.G dearly.

Y/n would never admit it out loud, but ever since H.G had taken Y/n into his arms and home he had been the happiest he had ever been. H.G had invited Y/n to stay with him for a bit while he was sorting out what to do with his life. Then it slowly turned from getting his life together to something else. It first started with small fleeting touches, the brushing of hands and quickly removing them once noticed. The touches soon came to be welcomed and invited. Then it slowly turned into finding each other’s rooms at night or finding H.G in the basement working on the time machine. Then it turned into small kisses and tender holdings. All things that couples would do.

Y/n sniffled as he thought it over.

This wouldn’t be the first time that H.G had disappeared from his life suddenly. But that was before they had come to this relationship. The two had gotten into an argument over the machine. H.G had come back two days later and apologized.

After that, the two had become an item unintentionally and had come this far. It was unfair that H.G had left him in 1893. Y/n knew that H.G had left in a hurry, but he should have brought Y/n with him.

Y/n didn’t want to be alone.

Y/n didn’t want to lose H.G.

-

Y/n didn’t know what the date was.

Mrs. Nelson had let guests come and go. Some of the men that were there that night came to tell Y/n that Stevenson’s name had been cleared. They simply believed that John couldn’t have done this. It simply didn’t add up to them.

Y/n hadn’t cared. He didn’t speak or look at them as they spoke. He just stared at the fire as it crackled. The heat against his face was barely keeping him awake and sane. The men gave up after trying to convince him to go, saying that H.G will either never come back or will come back eventually.

Still, he did not move.

Not until today.

There was a creak in the floor boards then a dull thud from below. Y/n blinked and slowly turned his head when he felt the thud. He looked down at the ground as he slowly frowned. It then clicked what it must be.

Pushing himself up, Y/n could feel every muscle in his body ache and burn from the lack of use. His body felt like it was on fire and being pierced by a million syringes. He stumbled to his feet, tripping over himself and catching himself on the coffee table. He groaned silently as he pushed himself up once again.

Ignoring the pain in his legs, Y/n ran towards the basement door. As he opened it, he could hear two voices from the bottom of the stairs.

H.G and John.

Y/n stumbled down the stairs, almost tripping over himself multiple times as he could see John and H.G standing in front of the time machine. Y/n stopped at the foot of the stairs to stare at the two. H.G’s eyes widened as they stared at each other.

Anger and happiness bubbled up from his stomach, filling him in a violent concoction of emotions. It felt like his soul had finally returned to his body and he was breathing after drowning.

“H.G.” Y/n teared up and stumbled towards H.G, who was finally grinning at him.

“Y/n!” H.G held out his arms and caught Y/n in his arms. “I am so sorry, my love.”

Y/n started to cry, hiccuping as he leaned into H.G’s arms.

H.G was real. He was solid and warm. H.G was ever so slightly shaking as he held Y/n close to him. Y/n was gripping onto the back of his jacket. The jacket smelled weird and oddly like lavender. Y/n felt H.G’s hands petting his head as he whispered sweet things into his ear. H.G pressed his lips into the side of Y/n’s head.

Y/n looked up to H.G, whose hands slowly slid to hold Y/n’s cheeks in his palms.

H.G had small cuts across his face and looked like he had seen hell. His face was also clean shaven, which was very odd to see. But it was still the same H.G.

“Why would you leave me?” Y/n hiccuped. H.G brushed a tear from Y/n’s cheek and shook his head. “I thought you wouldn’t come back for me.”

“Please forgive me for all I've done, my love.” H.G’s voice was quiet and soft. He had a saddened look on his face. “I didn't mean to leave you like this. I had ran after John in a split second decision and missed you every single second I was away. I would never leave you for anything, my love.”

Y/n’s body shook as a small laugh bubbled up. H.G gave Y/n a small smile.

“You wouldn’t?” Y/n tried to blink away the rest of his tears.

“Never, my love. I will always come back for you.” H.G kissed Y/n’s nose. “I would bet my life for you, my love. Anything to see you again.”

H.G pressed his forehead to Y/n’s and Y/n closed his eyes. He couldn’t be happier that H.G was back and wouldn’t leave him.

“I love you, H.G.” Y/n whispered and opened his eyes again.

H.G looked Y/n in the eyes and smiled before kissing Y/n.

“I love you too.”

[amuseoffyre]

I’m having a night off from writing tonight because my brain is squeeshed dry after a solid month of constant creating.

I’ve decided to chill by re-reading my speculative S2 fics and basking in all the different character POVs I’ve written :) Figured I could put together a little post of quotes because I’m so happy with how well they came out.

Stede Bonnet

“What’s the normal protocol for crossing paths with a boat you’re not attacking?” Olu laughed. “There’s probably a flag for that,” he said, “but I don’t think we have one. “Damn!” Stede glanced around, frowning. “Well, I suppose if there are only a few of them, we could at least be hospitable and have them on board.” He clasped his hands together and immediately regretted it, shaking them out. “Tea! I’ll make tea. And see if I can find where Abshir’s fellows put those lovely sugar biscuits.” “You don’t have to,” Olu said. “It’s not a rule.” “I know,” Stede admitted with a sigh, “but it’s just… I know what it’s like to be out at sea in the middle of nowhere. I know I would have liked it if a ship came up and provided me with tea and biscuits.” He shrugged helplessly. “I know it’s not very piratey.” “No, it’s not,” Olu agreed, making his heart sink a little, then buoyed it up again by adding, “but it is very you and I like that about you.” Stede couldn’t help the silly smile that spread over his face. “In that case, tea and biscuits for everybody!”

Blackbeard

“You proud of yourself?” Ed sagged in relief, head knocking back against the edge of the bed at the familiar mocking voice. “Fuck off,” he grumbled into the mouth of the bottle. “Oh very original,” the fucking ghost said. “Haven’t heard that before.” It was quiet for a minute. “First big raid since Stede, hm?” Bastard ghost had a knack of hitting the nail right on the head every time. “S’fine,” he lied. “S’all good. Did it. Burned it. All done.” “And here you are, sitting in your cabin, talking to a dead man.” Yeah. That was it, wasn’t it? Because out there, he’d just be getting pissed and watching the others hit things and break things and yell and tear apart the shit they stole from the ship like it was nothing. None of them gave a shit about the screaming. Never had. “So what if I am?” “Ever think that might mean you’re a bit mad?” Ed laughed harshly. “That ship has sailed.”

Izzy Hands

Izzy Hands was having a fucking shit week. It was riding hard on the arse of an absolute bastard of a month. Thank fuck they’d managed to make port, restock provisions and plenty of rum and drag Enrico down from the rigging before he jumped when he was hallucinating that he was a fucking seagull. They’d lost two crewmen in the middle of the mess, one going overboard and the other shitting himself to death. Even Blackbeard had been wrecked by it, but nowhere near as bad as the lads below. It had taken nearly a full fucking fortnight to get the ship back to operational levels and some of the lads still had the shakes, even with a drink in them. Fucking hell, it had taken half that to get them to stop giving lip every time he gave a fucking order, but a few solid blows and a threat to withdraw their booze again and everyone was back toeing the line where they should be just in time for a raid on a merchant ship. And of course, that was when the good Lord decided to once more shit upon his head.

Lucius Scripps

Not that he was staying for good or noble reasons or anything bloody stupid like that, but because everyone on the fucking ship was unhinged and if he stayed… well, he could just push it along in a different direction and watch the entire fucking place implode. God it would be delicious to watch it all break apart, especially for that bastard Iggy. He was the driving force behind it all. Lucius had listened to him yelling abuse at people. Had heard the blows. Had seen the mess Jim and Frenchie were in. He’d definitely been the push that turned the captain from Ed doing his talent shows to Blackbeard the face-painted psycho. No one else would’ve done it. No one else could’ve. Ed was still somewhere in there, even if he’d gone off the deep end. His secret cupboard of Stede stuff said that much. Plus the crying. Oh God, so much crying. So yes. Maybe it did make him a petty bitch, but for dear little Iggy, he would do it a thousand times over, just to watch him froth impotently with rage as everything he wanted fell apart in his hands. And to be there when he found exactly who was behind it.

Jim Jimenez

They shouldn’t have left him alone, not when he was in such a mess. They weren’t even close when the ship rolled and he stumbled, the crash making Hands whip around like a feral dog. Jim swore under their breath, levelling the blade. Wrong balance, but they threw it, hissing when it missed the fucker’s throat, catching him high in the shoulder and throwing him back. “Run!” they snarled at Frenchie, stalking towards Hands, twisting a length of cord around their fist. Hands laughed, ripping the knife out of his shoulder. “If it isn’t Stede’s little bitch out of its kennel.” Jim shifted their weight from one foot to the other. “Better his bitch that yours,” they growled, arching back from the slash of the knife, red with blood in the flickering lamplight. “Te voy a romper la cara a trompadas.”

Olu

Once they were both on the track down again, their ship coming into view, Captain paused. “If you and the others want to find shelter somewhere else, I won’t fault you, you know. This is something I need to do, but I can’t ask you all–” “Pfft.” Olu rolled his eyes. “You think you’re getting rid of us that easily?” “Oh.” Captain ducked his head, bashful. “Well. I… it’s very much appreciated.” Funny thing was that he was still the same bloke and yet at the same time, he was completely different. Like everything that made him their Captain was still there, but it was like someone had sparked a tinderbox and lit up a whole other person inside him.

Frenchie

Frenchie waved in greeting, still trying to get used to Captain’s face with hair on it. Looked like he was going proper pirate as well. Not just a bit of stubble. Some proper beard business was happening. “You too. You’re looking less knackered.” Captain smiled sheepishly. “So I’ve been told.” He beckoned, gesturing to the chair at the other side of the table. “I’ve got a bit of a favour to ask of you.” Since it wasn’t coming with a punch or a kick or a belt across the back of the head, Frenchie had to admit it was already three steps up from where he’d been last week. “Course,” he said, crossing the floor and sitting down in the chair. “But if it’s to read the maps, I don’t think I can.”

Buttons

The deck of the ship was painted silver by moon glow. Buttons turned over his whistle in his hands and glanced up at the rigging. “I’m sorry, Livy. It’s no’ you. It’s me.” He’d tried to bask, take it in from the prow as he always did, but it didnae feel right, not without his wee pal. Karl’s wee widow spiralled down from the rigging to land beside him. “I know,” she telt him. “This was something you did with him. I didn’t want you to be alone the first time on a ship.” Buttons clapped her gently on the back. “Ye’d best be off home, eh? The wee ones’ll be waiting for you.” With a sharp cry, she took wing, a flash of white and silver in the moonlight.

Wee John

Chewing on a piece of apple, Wee John peered at the captain’s wee sketches again, spread all over the galley table. Wasn’t often you had a captain who made such detailed drawings to show what he wanted you to do, but Captain had done a decent job. He’d explained everything and gone over it and answered all the questions and it all made sense. Turned out the wee man was bloody good at plans. “It can’t be this simple,” Black Pete argued. “We make a plan and it all goes right. This… it’s… Blackbeard wouldn’t fall for this.”

Roach

Fanning himself with a leaf, Roach cracked an eye open. “Hey.” He nudged Black Pete’s head. “That dot. It is closer now.” Pete grunted something, rolling over on the sand. Roach made a face down at him, wishing he had enough spit left to drip it in his ear. They were low on water now. Food too. Only a few days left, if they wanted to live. He squinted at the horizon again and the dot. It was too small to be a ship, but as it got closer and closer, it took a shape. “Hey!” Roach reached the other way and hit Wee John on the arm. “Hey! Am I going mad? Do I see a boat?” Wee John grumbled like a tired donkey but lifted his chin up from his chest. “Where?”

Spanish Jackie

“So, lady, huh?” She sprawled into her high-backed chair, waving ‘Thomas’ into the seat closest to her. “You tryin’ to smooth-talk me?” “I call it as I see it,” he replied, not a bit of mockery in his voice. “You run this place with an efficiency any would envy, you’re a woman of refinement judging by your tailoring. Why shouldn’t I call you a lady?” She snorted in amusement. “You’re a funny little guy, Thomas.” She took out one of her cigarillos, lighting it up as the new guy – what the fuck was his name? Peaches didn’t sound right – set two glasses down on the table. “What the fuck happened to you? Last time you was here, you looked like a dress shop threw up all over you?” ‘Thomas’ picked up his glass. “Someone sold me and mine out to the English.” He raised his eyebrows in challenge. “I suspect you knew that.” Jackie gazed at him as she slid her small pistol out of her sleeve, onto the table where he could see it. “You here for payback, then?”

Fang

“Hello, gorgeous,” Lucius said with a sad little smile. Fang’s face crumpled up and he dropped the bottle. Rum all over, but didn’t matter cos he was across the floor and Lucius hugged him like he was worth a shit and petted his back and told him it was all right. “It’s not,” he argued into Lucius’s shoulder. “It’s all fucking shit.” “Yeah, I know, it is,” Lucius said softly, rubbing his cheek against Fang’s ear. “I was just trying to make you feel better.” Fang laughed wetly then pulled back and rubbed at his face. “You shouldn’t be in here. If they see you, Izzy’ll go off his nut.” Lucius scoffed, sitting down on the end of the bed. “Izzy is already off his nut. What’s he going to do to me? As far as he knows, I’m dead.”

Ivan

With a sigh, Ivan helped him unfasten his jacket and slid it off his shoulders. Fucking hell, his ribs were black and blue already. “Iz is trying to make up for lost time,” he said. He got up to fetch some more rags. “Didn’t like the music and the stories.” He unfolded something that looked like a sheet, tore it into long strips. “Told me to break the kitchen lad’s fingers.” “Frenchie?” Ivan grimaced, nodding, as he shredded the sheet enough to make some bandages. “No reason, neither. The fuck’s the point of punishing someone for something they didn’t fucking do? Fuck, hit me if I fucked up, but not just because I used to play some music!” He turned back to find Fang staring at him. “What?” “I thought you… liked it like this,” Fang said quietly. Sitting down by him, Ivan leaned in to wrap the strips of sheet around his ribs. “Yeah. Me too.”

I’ve also covered Mary, Doug and Calico Jack in some other fics as well :) So many fun characters! So little time!

[tsunchani]

heeseung - strangers

࿐ྂ (@enhypenwriters collaboration)

࿐ྂ word count: 5.8k+

࿐ྂ pairing: stranger!heeseung x stranger!reader

࿐ྂ genre: PG-15, strangers to lovers!au and 1990's!au

࿐ྂ warning: a bit sad. heeseung first relationship! lee heeseung fans line up!

࿐ྂ credits:

special thanks to...

1. lovely twinnie @chaoticdeobi! thank you love for being my beta-reader! my twinnie was meant to expand it, i am owning the storyline! + she falls for heeseung.

2. bong-vely sissy @jung-snoopy-woo, thank you for liking the story and encourage me with your lovely words!

࿐ྂ pritty's note: i am sorry, it’s delayed i know T_T!

so this is for you guys! i hope you like it, please comment and reblog! enjoy the story love!

23rd June, 1991.

“Yo, Heeseung, my man!” The mentioned lad grinned, approaching his campus best friend, Jay, and greeting him with a high five. Heeseung smiled widely, delighted to meet his friend even if it was probably the last time he’d see him in person, in a very long time. 

After getting transferred to one of Australia’s universities, it was only appropriate for Jay to host a farewell party, at least.

“Yo Jay, my handsome man!”

“Yeah, I am the handsome man here!” He replied, opening his arms and acknowledging the compliment, although there wasn’t a hint of conceit in his voice.

“Well, I mean, girls are all over you.” Heeseung jokes, right hand inside his pocket as he slung the other on Jay's shoulder.

“Come on now, we both know who’s fooling around, heeseung. Girls are all over you.” Bringing his wine glass to his mouth, he sipped on the cola and savored the flavor lingering on his lips and tongue.

Heeseung chuckled, then turning his head to glance at the waitress holding a tray with drinks placed on it. Heeseung didn’t miss the way her eyes were already fixed on his figure. He grabbed the cola smoothly from the tray when she passed by him, without daring to make eye contact with her. He didn’t want another girl outside the campus to be all over him. He had enough people swarming over for his attention, and he definitely did not want to be held accountable for any future heartbreaks he didn’t mean to make. 

People. All over him. Everyday. 

Heeseung had never dated; he always refused when his friends set him up on blind dates. Many have tried and failed, attempting to figure out how to set him up, but never succeeded. And so they simply gave up. 

Jay opened his mouth, only to close it back again when Heeseung pointed his index finger at him, knowing he knew what Jay wanted to say.

“I haven’t said anything!” 

“I know what you wanted to say. Just shut it.”

Jay rolled his eyes along with a shake of his head, shrugging and muttering, “If you say so.” 

He takes a sip of his drink again.

Heesung changed the topic, and it didn’t take long until the conversation between them drifted well. Soon, and before they knew it, Jay’s girlfriend chirped in, discoursing with them as well.

Soon enough, their conversation went wild; there’s laughing all around, talking about school stuff, the hilarious moments they had, reminiscing the moments they’ve had with their other friends just in an attempt to bring back nostalgia. Then, before Heeseung knew it again, the issue about relationships had resurfaced.

While it was nothing detrimental to him, Heeseung still turned away and tried not to listen to it. Deep inside, he knew where the topic where Jay and his girlfriend were heading to. So instead, he tried to distract himself by looking at the people around him one by one, trying to recognize the familiar faces from the campus. 

Of course. Jay was a sociable person so he invited people that he knew, including his brother and his sister’s friends. Being a ‘known guy’ on and off campus sure had its perks.

Just when he wanted to rejoin the conversation of Jay and his lover, he caught sight of you, in your dazzling glory, from across the room. Heeseung, stunned on his spot, observed you for a whole minute, inwardly hoping he did not look like a weird stalker as of the moment. Then, his brain went outright blank after hearing your laugh from a distance, then finally seeing your pearly smile. 

He felt disoriented, like he’s petrified and doesn’t know what to do next.

All Heeseung knew was that your friend was laughing, followed by you with the topic that she had brought up. Then, to his surprise, you turned around, accidentally making eye contact with just the man who was watching you. That lasted for a brief moment, for in an instant, you were back to laughing around with your friend, your voice seemingly growing louder by the second you get more amused.

Beautiful, Heeseung thought. Your hand covered the wide smile on your lips, and yet he couldn’t bear to take his eyes off of you. 

Didn’t he just tell Jay to shut up about relationships? About potential lovers? But, why did he suddenly feel like he wants to listen to your laugh all day, wants to make you smile for as long as he could, have you in his arms as you rejoice in the euphoria of his love? That isn’t what falling in love feels like, isn’t it? It can’t be.

Heeseung surprised himself when he took a step the moment your friend walked away. He was shy, of course he was, but then you stood alone, hand gently placed on top of your elbow, waiting for somebody to come and entertain you. Then you looked back at Heeseung’s spot again, heart skipping a beat when you made eye contact with him for the second time tonight. And with the way you chewed on your bottom lip shyly before looking away, it was enough for Heeseung to know that you were merely waiting for him to make the first move.

He was about to take a step, then he backed away again. He couldn’t just approach you like that… can he? He probably needed some kind of backup or bridge to get to know you.

But as if the heavens heard his scrambled thoughts, it was thanks to destiny that Jay’s sister just happened to walk by in front of him.

“Hey, Dini.” Heeseung caught her arm. She jerked her head as she munched on her snack.

“Whot?” She asked with muffled words, cheeks resembling that of a chipmunk.

“D-d-do you know that girl?” Dini followed where Heeseung was pointing to, shy eyes barely looking at your figure, who stood stiffly on the same spot, unmoving. Dini chuckled and turned to look at Heeseung.

“So, you could fall in love, Mr. Lee.” Dini eyed the brunette man beside her, smirking as she took notice of the way his eyes clung to your face.

“Oh shut it, Park. Just help me get to know her.” Heeseung hissed, embarrassed with her teasing.

“Oof, nice mouth, Lee.” Dini mocked shock while smirking at the flustered man. Heeseung, who seemed unfazed, only glared at her.

“What?” She blinked.

Seconds later, Dini merely rolled her eyes before she walked ahead of Heeseung, lifting and wiggling her index finger as a signal for him to follow her lead. 

“C’mon Lee.” 

Heeseung's eyes lit up as he followed the little Park. His heartbeat started to race the closer he got to you. Then, Dini stopped to call your name, to catch your attention. Heeseung almost clumsily bumped into Dini’s back like a lost little child.

He regained composure the moment you turned your head, hair flipping back as you looked at their direction with a smile. Heeseung’s heart,  now unpredictable, thudded like crazy against his chest as beads of sweat rolled down his temple and gathered on his palms.

“y/n, this is Heeseung. Jake’s best friend. Heeseung, this is y/n, my friend and Rina’s sister.”

Heeseung instantly extended  his hand to you, shyly enough for you to know that he’s quite hesitant as you are. Slowly,  you enclosed your hand in his in a handshake. 

You had to admit, even you cannot look into his beautiful eyes.

The moment your hand touched his, he felt sparks sparkling inside his stomach and his mind instantly went crazy. His breath became shaky, though he still tried his best to give you a smile.

“Hi, y/n. Glad to meet you.” Your ears and the stars in your eyes perked up when a manly yet cute, soft, voice came out of his lips and called your name. Deciding to lift your head, your gaze then met the galaxy in his eyes. Your heart raced against your chest again, like a teenager with a clumsy little crush, your skin crawling and tingling from head to toe. But then you tried your best to conceal your shyness, and gave him a smile.

“Hi, Heeseung, I’m glad to meet you.” At that moment, Heeseung was already smiling from ear to ear.

Thoughts started to fill his mind, and suddenly, he thought that maybe having one more person fall for him wouldn’t seem to be too bad after all— but rather what he somehow wanted. With both of you standing there, hands still clasping each other’s, you shyly looked away as Dini cleared her throat.

“Excuse me lovebirds. Don’t wanna be a third wheel here.” Dini said with a faux annoyed voice, glancing at Heeseung with a smirk on her face.

“Start your move, Lee.” She whispered just as she patted his shoulder before passing by him completely.

As Heeseung withdrew his hand, you shyly tucked stray strands of hair behind your ear. From here, everything would be alright. 

After all, all it took was for you to meet Heeseung, a mere stranger a few moments ago, and yet you don’t know why you want to believe in love again. But it’s special, isn’t it? 

It must be.

Heeseung had his head buried into his hand, fingers brushing over his features as he sighed. He sat beside the home telephone, the wind blowing harshly from outside the open window as if to boo him. 

24th June, 1991.

The whole day, he’d been thinking about stuff, and it wasn’t exactly one you would ever want to hear. Why?

“What’s her name again?”

“I forgot.”

“Lee heeseung, you idiot!”

“Says you!”

And he couldn’t believe it himself. After a whole night of talking, and maybe even flirting, he still forgot your name.

Dating mustn't really be for him.

No. More like, falling in love really isn’t for him.

But then, it might be too early to actually declare anything, right?

As if the lightbulb above Heeseung’s head lit up, he lifted his head, backtracking the events that had happened in the party. Dini left, you both began to talk, hours passed, you were both delirious, he was borderline drunk, so Jay came in to rescue his friend from embarrassing himself, and then you waved goodbye, he started babbling, and so to shut him up… Jay slipped something into his palm.

That’s it.

Heeseung stood up and ran into his room. Taking a small paper in his hand, he ran back to the living room, grabbing the telephone and began punching the numbers written on the paper. 

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Heeseung placed the paper beside the telephone, still anxiously eyeing the number, praying it’s your home’s phone number and not some prank. It continued ringing, until on the seventh ring, the phone was finally picked up.

“Hello?” —came from the other line. Heeseung’s ears perked up in a mix of surprise and embarrassment. It’s not your voice, it’s a man’s voice. And if this was not your phone number, he swore to himself he’d pummel Jay for it.

“Hello, Mr., This is Heeseung. Lee Heeseung. I’m looking for, um— is this, um—” 

“Are you perhaps… looking for y/n?”

When the familiar name left the man’s mouth, Heeseung’s eyes widened, and he found himself inhaling a shaky breath.

“Y-yes, sir. That’s her name.” Heeseung mumbled, blinking blankly while he licked his lips anxiously. 

“Alright,” He said, and then there’s a plop from the other line. Heeseung bit his lip and anxiously bounced his legs, hoping he wasn’t too late to finally hit a score.

On the other side of the line, you sat peacefully atop your bed, nibbling on the crown of the pen in your hand— brows drawn into a furrow.

Something about the prose you wrote didn’t seem right.

“y/n, honey!” Called your dad, his voice muffled from the other side of your door.

“Yeah, dad?” You replied without removing your gaze from your little notebook. When he didn’t respond, you looked at the door for a few seconds. Still nothing.

Sighing, you slipped your slippers on, dragging your feet to approach the door.

“Yeah, daddy?” Opening the door and poking your head out from its crack, you turned your head to face your dad’s distinct figure. With the phone in between his shoulder and ear, it was his turn to turn to you, jerking his head towards the phone on the table.

“Heeseung.” He mouthed, and so your eyebrows jerked up reflexively.

“Heeseung?” You repeated softly, blinking as you closed the door behind you and approached your father. Softly, you took it from his hand, sitting on the little couch just beside the table. 

Just before you were about to say something, you glanced at your father, who chuckled and generously urged you on, that it’s okay for you to talk to him. Slowly, you placed the phone beside your ear.

“Hello?” Your voice was a little shaky, and the fact that you know very well it was obvious made blood rush to your cheek. Luckily, Heeseung didn’t seem to mind.

“Hey,  y/n, it’s Heeseung.”

And oh god, do you feel butterflies at the sound of his voice. Shyly, you tucked stray strands of hair behind your ear.

“Hi, Heeseung.” You greeted him right before chewing on your lower lip. Like a teenager in the peak stage of delirious puppy love, your fingers found its way onto the ringed wires of the phone, and you started to twirl it repeatedly around your finger in giddiness. “What’s up?”

“So, uh… I—” He paused, and with the way he repeatedly hissed at himself, you bit on your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing. “I just— ugh, fine, I will go straight to the point.” 

He gulped, and then there was silence on the other side of the line for a while. You heard his stuttering, the loud shaky breaths that he kept on taking. He sounded like he was in the peak state of panic, and when the silence grew longer, your brows slowly started to furrow.

“Heeseung? Are you there? Are you o—”

“Go on a date with me?”

Pause.

And then, you could only break into a wide grin.

A mix of words began to flow into your mind, and even though it seemed to be coming in out of excitement and shock, it made sense.

You just know that after the phone call, your notebook will be filled with everything you’ve never thought of. And by the end of the night, your prose will become the most phenomenal one you’ve written yet.

Heeseung still couldn’t believe he was standing in front of your front door, because he asked you out on a date.

1st July, 1991.

He asked you out.

On a date.

Normally, he wouldn’t have given himself so much praise because he wasn’t conceited, but even he himself could not believe it. He finally asked somebody out, not the other way around, and he was pretty damn sure he’s got the hots for you.

And to top all that, you said yes.

The car key clanged against his ring and the jittery boy couldn’t help but slightly jolt on his spot. Upon hearing footsteps come closer to the door, he reached up to make sure his shirt was properly buttoned. The front door opened and he quickly tucked his shirt a bit out from his pants, then inwardly praying you were into that kind of style.

“Bye mum, bye dad!” Rung your voice as you opened the door, giving your smiley parents a wave before finally facing the stupefied man on your doorstep.

Do something.

Lee Heeseung, do some freaking thing.

It was what his mind was telling him to do, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Heeseung stood frozen on his spot, adoring your stylish get-up and the equally shy look on your face.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Heeseung’s eyes widened as he spoke, snapping out of his trance at the same time shaking his head at himself. “Y-you look… gorgeous.” He said in a whisper-like voice, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck shyly.

You chuckled, tucking strands of hair behind your ear. “Thank you.”

“S-shall we?” He asked, stepping aside and extending a hand to gesture to his car. Looking ahead, you saw how badly his hand was shaking, and although you felt the urge to laugh, you didn’t want to embarrass him further, even if for you, it was terribly cute.

“We shall.” You nodded, and heeseung cleared his throat with a bashful smile on his lips.

“Excellent.” He mumbled before making way for you to walk ahead. On the outside, he seemed to look like a semi-calm lad on his first date, maybe a little jittery here and there. But on the inside, he was internally cursing at himself on whether he should’ve held his arm out to you or not. For one, he did not want you to feel uncomfortable about how bold he might’ve seemed. But two, it was supposed to be an act of chivalry. 

And yet, the little grin on your face said it all.

Comfortable. That’s how you felt, and it was more than enough.

Lee Heeseung, with the way he moved and acted, showed how he wasn’t rushing to start a relationship, but at the same time made it known to you that he’s seriously interested in you. That he doesn’t want this date to be another mere joke time or something to pass the days by with.

At that moment in time, maybe, you were a little more than strangers, but still a little less than friends.

But something inside of you seemed to assure you that you will be more, in due time.

“Well, my father was driving and his fart was… rather… gut-churning.” 

17th August, 1991.

Choking on your food, Heeseung’s laugh seemed to echo in your space inside the restaurant. Immediately, his hand came up to cup your jaw, carefully tilting your head whilst his other hand reached over for the cup of water.

Your hand flew up to cover your mouth out of shyness, but your hand landed above Heeseung’s instead. With your other hand, you took the glass of water from his hand, mumbling a little ‘thank you’ to him. Quietly, you drank the water in one go to relax your throat. 

You made sure to mumble a quick apology, and Heeseung merely shook his head with a little laugh as if to dismiss it.

 The restaurant was elegantly decorated; slow music coming out of the phonograph on the corner where couples danced around at. Both of you kept talking, telling funny stories to each other, relishing in the romantically funny atmosphere. He kept bringing up topics that you were interested in, like how he met Jay and spent most of the time benefiting off of the free meals he’d bought him from being a third wheel. 

To say the least, hearing the ‘boring’ life that he had, as what he had claimed, before you arrived, was piquing your interest. And it’s not because you’re a chest-full of pride for going on a date with the rather ‘undateable’ Lee Heeseung, but because he seemed to really be sincere in liking your presence. Like you had made a significant difference in his life, stronger and harder than you never even thought you would.

Seconds later, silence engulfed the atmosphere, with you and Heeseung staring down onto your now empty plates while the music began to waltz louder into your eardrums. You both exchanged shy glances before snorting at your awkward selves, then looking back down again. 

Just then, the faint screech of a chair being pushed back catched your attention. Lifting your head, you saw Heeseung extending his hand to you. As if to clarify if you were thinking of the same thing, you locked eyes with him for a moment. 

Heeseung nodded and smiled, urging for you to take it, and so you didn’t waste any more time. Holding the napkin from your lap to put on the dining table, you pushed your chair back and stood up, and Heeseung brought you to the dance floor.

Slowly, you began facing each other, and you felt your heart patter wildly against your chest. You were face to face, and it’s not like usual, but you liked it. You liked the feeling. 

Heeseung brought your hands to loop behind his neck, though he wasn’t looking you in the eye. A faint blush graced his cheeks, and so teasingly, you stepped in even closer. Heeseung blinked rapidly for a few seconds before you bursted into a fit of giggles.

“Oh, Lee Heeseung. It’s okay to touch me, you know. You can’t keep your hands on your sides forever while we dance.” You grabbed his hand gently, placing it onto your waist. Heeseung inhaled a deep, shaky, breath, but he was trying to bite back a smile.

Soon, both of you swayed along to the music, and the soothing mellow tunes made you slowly begin to lean your head on his shoulder. Your head touched his clothed chest, and you immediately felt his body tense up for a bit before he finally let loose.

“Are you comfortable with this?” Asked him, and a buzz ran down your spine upon hearing his honey-like voice next to your ear. Nodding, you snuggled even closer to his chest, to which you felt it rumble as he let out an adoring chuckle. 

A few more seconds into the song and Heeseung calls your name.

Slowly, you lifted your head to give him a curious look, but you were immediately met with his startlingly sparkly orbs. His gaze remained on you for a while until he finally inhaled a breath and said,

 “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

To say the least, Heeseung felt his heart lighten a bit after he asked you to be his. ‘Twas like a heavy weight was lifted off of his chest, though the uncertainty of what you have to say still beared much weight. Something inside him told him that somehow, it’ll be alright.

For strangers, it might seem to be a little too soon.

But Heeseung believed he shouldn’t wait a lifetime for his happiness to come through when you were already standing right in front of him, shimmering eyes waiting for him to pop the question, lips ready to share the sweetness of your answer.

17th August, 1992.

A year later,

After a year through all of it, Heeseung was more than happy. Euphoric, even. One of the things you’ve both grown to love was having to ride a bike to each other’s houses to bond, sneaking out at late nights to watch the stars, or just going out together on day dates. It was your favorite quality time bonding with him; spending hours on the telephone, or maybe even having to meet at your favorite diner downtown. 

Even with the clashing schedules of work, Heeseung made an effort to make you feel happy and loved. There was not a day that passed that he didn’t.

In front of the calendar stood Heeseung, in all his formally handsome glory, staring at the red mark on the paper with a joyous grin.

1st Anniversary with y/n.

He smiled, straightening his back and fixing his brown shirt before he walked to the garage to pick his old bike, a lily bucket flower in his hand. With a little frown on his lips, he sighed, internally cursing Jay for having to have a date with Rina on the same day of your anniversary, and had to borrow his car.

But even though Jake’s beating could wait, your anniversary could not. He’ll deal with him later. For now, he’ll have a long journey ahead of him.

In which, he really is.

“Heeseung? Oh my, you’re sweating.” You gasped as soon as you opened the door, brows drawn into a furrow. But Heeseung was still smiling widely at you like an idiot in love.

“For you, dear. Happy anniversary, I love you.” 

Heeseung interjected, ignoring the way you looked so worried while wiping the beads of sweat on his temples. Handing you the bucket of lilies, he placed a sweet kiss on your temple which caught you off guard. Taking the bucket, you inhaled the flowers’ scent. 

Just what you love.

Just the thought of Heeseung going through a whole lot to bike his way to your house, and give you a little token of love was enough to make your heart and day full. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you looked up at Heeseung before jumping into his arms, hugging him with a huge smile on your face. Heeseung stumbled a bit backwards due to the shock, but a few seconds later and he was hugging you back, an enamored smile on his lips as he placed a peck on your cheek.

“Thank you, sung!” You backed away, staring at his pretty smile before pinching his cheeks hard. He whined and groaned in pain, though he was laughing along with you. Until he couldn’t feel his cheeks, you let go, making it up to him quickly by placing a quick peck on his lips, then looking around cautiously to see if anybody had seen it.

Upon seeing the coast was clear, you giggled and looked up to adore his smiley face.

“Let's go inside, join the dinner with mum and dad.”

23 March 1993

It was everything you could ever ask for.

You and Heeseung never knew that a sheet of paper could make somebody tremble so badly.

The paper, printed with the logo where Heeseung works at, is shaking in his hand, lightly crumpling by the edge with the way he gripped it. The pounding of his heart was no joke, it reached his ears

“Heesung…”

Quickly, he shut his eyes to stabilize his breathing, inhaling and exhaling so many times, fingers clenched into a fist. Soon, he felt another hand take his; one that helped him throughout his ups and downs in life. A hand that always encouraged him with what he had to do, for his best in his life and for his future. You rubbed circles on the back of his palm and he let out a shaky breath and opened his eyes. His eyes darted from the front to lock with yours, your eyes full of worry yet it made him calm.

Encouragingly, you gave him a smile, he nodded. It’s time.

Letting go of his hand, his index finger and thumb slowly opened the folded paper. 

Top left, and you saw the company name. 

You just needed the bottom fold. 

Heesung trembled a bit before he finally slid his thumb to reveal the answer at the bottom page.

And then, he exhales the breath he was holding.

He took one glance at you, and he saw that your eyes were shaking as you stared at the piece of paper.

Rome.

His company sent him to Rome to continue his work. For two years. 

Placing your hand on top of his, you slowly faced him, and he felt his heart hurt at the sight of your worried face. You kept on mumbling, ‘“It’s going to be alright. It’s going to be alright.” But the quiver of your voice and the tears rolling down your cheeks said otherwise. 

“I can… I can—” He stuttered, gulping as he tried to come up with something to say. At that moment, you were already letting your tears flow, although you choked back your inaudible sobs.

Silence.

Both you and Heeseung knew that he needed to do it for his dream. He needed it so he could live, and make a living. And you both knew that a long distance relationship like this wouldn’t work. It just wouldn’t, because love is never enough, even when it’s all that you have.

But of course you knew that Heeseung was willing to give it all up for you, too. And yet, as selfish as you want yourself to be, you still don’t want him to give it all up for you. He has to put himself first.

And so, with a facade, you sniffled, shutting your eyes close as you mumbled under your breath,

“Let’s break up. If it’s what’s best for us.”

And just like that, everything that you could ever ask for, was taken from you in the blink of an eye.

You could only hope that by the time he’s back, he wouldn’t become a stranger you just used to know.

September, 1995.

Two years later. 

“y/n, do you want to go home together?”

Snapping out of your daze, you quickly shoved the piece of printed paper back inside of your binder. Looking up, you flashed your campus friends a smile with a quirked brow.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, sure. I should just fix up first. You two can go ahead, I’ll catch up!” And so they nodded, doing as you told them to do. When the door slammed shut and they were out of your sight, your smile fell off of your face. And for a brief moment, your fingers, still halfway inside the binder, slowly pulled the photograph back out again.

Not a day passed when you didn’t look longingly at the only memory you have left of Heeseung. Every single day, you even think you forgot how he looked, a little bit more.

Maybe you regret that you broke up with him.

You sighed hopelessly to yourself.

You really do.

But was there anything you could’ve done, and could do?

Sliding the photograph back in, you shoved the binder inside of your bag before you grabbed it and headed out, not wanting to keep your friends waiting.

In fact, there is one thing you could still do.

And it was to continually hope that Heeseung is safe, even if he was no longer in your arms.

Refusing to succumb to the calling of sleep, he rubbed his eyes before straightening up again, working on the papers he’d received from his boss in record speed in hopes of avoiding getting scolded. 

Heeseung sighed heavily, sinking deeper to his office chair. One that he’d been repeatedly wearing out by occupying every single day for two whole years. Heck, he couldn’t even feel uncomfortable in it anymore now that he’d gotten used to it; not like he wanted to, though.

Focus.

Focus.

Focus—

He took a glance from a picture on his desk.

Okay, now back to work—

And then his eyes went back to the photograph. A longer stare. 

A bitter smile graced his lips as he saw the look on your face when he’d surprised you on your graduation day. Your smile was the most precious thing for him, he loved seeing it on you. Perhaps, it still is and he still does, too.

Lifting a hand, his finger caressed the frame. He missed you like crazy, mad crazy. If only…

Thoughts began to cloud his head again, and so he shook his head aggressively in a poor attempt to redirect his thoughts. He successfully snapped out of his trance the moment the intern named Jungwon cleared his throat from behind him before sliding a few stacks of papers onto Heeseung’s desk.

The intern had always found him staring at the photograph clipped onto his desk, and it went without saying that the younger understood. At times when Heeseung was starting to get miserable, the least he could do was disturb him with a ton of work, just like he asked.

December 1995.

But deep down, Heeseung still wished for a chance to meet you again.

Heeseung stood stiffly on the familiar grounds of his childhood, his knees still slightly wobbling and fingers still trembling even though he’d been catching up with a lot of people for hours now. Tens and hundreds of other people were still pushing past him, relishing in the night with loud chattering and laughter, the nostalgia of meeting each other in a reunion oddly exciting enough for them.

Perhaps it wasn’t much of a good idea, but Jay had convinced him to come for it was something “harmless”. It didn’t exactly work the same way for them, but he found himself coming, anyway.

The campus looked the same, the people who attended were the same, the people who attended asked the same questions. There was nothing much to see.

Heeseung couldn’t do anything but swirl his drink around his glass repeatedly to amuse himself. Then, he blankly looked down at the liquid, his other hand fiddling with the cloth of the standing bar table. As a sigh escaped his lips, he lifted his head, and it was as if time stopped.

There you were, having just arrived, one of your childhood friends making your presence known to your other batchmates. It was as if Heeseung had no control over himself, for before he could make himself aware of what he was doing, he was already calling for your name.

“y/n.”

Just like that, you turned your head and faced him, the smile on your lips fading, but your eyes made a sheer glimmer.

“Heeseung.” You whispered out, clearing your throat before excusing yourself from your batchmates and taking a few steps closer towards him. “Fancy seeing you here. I really thought you wouldn’t come.”

You fiddled with your clothes, not making eye contact with him. He did the same, his hand now stiffly pressing his wine glass on the table while he tried to calm himself down.

Heeseung gulped, “You too.”

And then silence. Awkward silence. 

Thankfully enough, the emcees on the stage began to announce the start of the countdown for the fireworks display. It was enough to bail you out of the awkward situation, so you tried to take advantage of it.

“Well then, I should—”

“I missed you.” Heeseung blurted out just as you turned away to leave. He hissed at himself, shutting his eyes close as he ducked his head down. “So much.”

His voice was almost a whisper as he spoke, and slightly, you turned to face him, looking at him with mellow eyes from over your shoulder. He inhaled a deep, shaky, breath, and then he boldly reached for your wrist, but his grip was gentle and almost pleading for you to stay.

“I know that this is probably not the right time nor the right place to talk about it but—”

Without any more words being said, you pulled him in, cutting him off with a kiss. The tears of longing trickling down your cheeks contrasted the blasts of fireworks from the skies, but your passion and love for one another was still as intense as the crack of the colorful lights.

And so, you meet again.

Not as lovers, not as friends.

But then maybe, just maybe, when the night ends, you will be more than just two strangers with some memories.

[amenomiko]

Aaaaaa Thank You so much for the looooooooooooong wait! I was too occupied and writer's block makes me tired more than ever 😭. Thank you so much for the request @ashavazesa ❤❤❤❤❤

A/N: I don't really take ALL Southeast Asia countries in this as I'm not really familiar with it. If you have questions regarding the culture, you may PM me or comment here ❤. Or you may google it, especially Butod 😏.

Lords x Southeast Asia Culture

Nobunaga - Hungry Ghost Festival (Malaysia / Singapore)

-It is a festival to honor the dead and so the gate from hell is opened.

-Mitsuhide: Most probably when the gate from hell is open, there will be Hideyoshi, practically running here and there upon his arrival ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^).

-Masamune: Exactly. With the red carpet and rose petals. Heh.

-Hideyoshi: ಠ_ಠ.... Still- Nobunaga-sama's presence itself is majestic, so I have to agree with both of you *cough*

-Mitsunari: But I don't understand.. Hideyoshi-sama is kind, why would he be in hell (´；д；`)?

-Hideyoshi: Now, now, Mitsunari. Not everyone will go to heaven easily.

-Mitsuhide: Indeed. One of the main reasons why he goes to hell is because he sister-zoned every maiden in the world.

-Hideyoshi: H E Y (　☉д⊙)!

-Back to Nobunaga: I demand my offering to be a pack of armies, thousands of konpeitos, and MC's candid pictures 😏😏😏😏.

-Shingen: How indecent. To hell with you 😒.

-Kennyo: Go somewhere else, don't take my place 😒.

-Nobunaga: Excuse me? Hell would not be yours as I am the Demon King

-Kennyo: Excuse you 😒. My sin is bigger than yours.

-MC: Is it me or is this a White Girls Sengoku Version ಠ_ಠ?

-Ieyasu: ...Why would anyone want to fight over hell in the first place =_=?

Hideyoshi - Everyone is Addressed as Boss / Uncle / Aunty (Malaysia)

-So he went to a restaurant..

-"Boss. What do you want to order?"

-He look left. And right.

-"Eh Boss. You want to order or not?"

-"Huh? M-me??"

-Then he went to a public place, and his wallet fell from his pocket,

-"Uncle. Excuse me."

-Uncle-- WHAT- He is not THAT OLD-- "Wh- Wha??"

-"Aiya Uncle. Your wallet. Later people take your money how?"

-"Uh--" What kind of language is that anyway??

-Sasuke: If you are wondering what kind of language they speak, it is called as 'Manglish', Hideyoshi-san.

-Hideyoshi: Ma- Ma what?

-Sasuke: Manglish. Malaysian + English casual ways of talking to someone.

-Random person: Eh Boss, excuse me. Do you want to enter or not? If not please move lah! You are blocking the door!

-Hideyoshi: ........*Stressed 101*

Masamune - Butod (Sago Grub) (Malaysia - Sabah)

-Le butod: *Wiggle wiggle wiggle* OwO

-And MC: *FAINTS*

-"So this is a.. Grub from sago tree, you say? And it is recommended to be eaten raw."

-"It looks like MC when she was struggling to get away from my grip when I try to kiss her."

-MC, who has fainted, woke up "Excuse me?? Are you saying that I am-"

-Butod: *Wiggle Wiggle on Masamune's Palm* OwO

-MC: *gasssppp* 😱😱😱😱 YOU..! DON'T TOUCH ME WITH THAT HAND TONIGHT ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥A˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚!

-Masamune: Eeeeh but why? *Pulls its head and eat it raw* Hmm.. Taste like chicken.

-MC: .....*Takes a bottle of sake and shove it into his mouth* Wash it down with this! WASH IT WITH T H I S!

-Masamune: MMMMF 😵😵😵😵!!

Mitsuhide - Chinese New Year Celebrations (Malaysia / Singapore)

-He was offered with lots of CNY treats and of course, he ate it without refusing it.

-Only to get the bewildered reactions from the people around him when he mixed the rice + fish + dumplings + sweet rice balls + spring rolls + glutinous rice cake in one bowl and eat it like nobody's business.

-Hideyoshi: Even if you can't taste it, don't eat it in that way (　☉д⊙)!!

-"Why Hideyoshi? This foods represents luck, you see. I need this luck so I can always escape from your endless 'love' ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^)."

-Learned about Ang Pow.

-"So you will give away money if you are married, and will receive it if you are not married. I see..."

-MC: What's wrong, Mitsuhide?

-"Hmm? Oh, I was just concerned about Hideyoshi. Because he will give away Ang Pows throughout his life." *Shakes his head* "That's what he gets when he sister-zoned everyone."

-Hideyoshi: ʕʘ̅͜ʘ̅ʔ.....

Ieyasu - Sambal (Hot Relish made with veggies / fruits and spices) (Indonesia)

-At first he was skeptical.

-Until he put some in his dish.

-Cues Ieyasu hugging the Sambal Jar.

-Growls when Masamune said "Can I have a look what they put inside-- Hey, hey, I said I want to have a look, not that I will eat it, lad. Calm down."

-Nobunaga, the usual demon on your shoulder: It's that precious, hmm? So you'd rather choose that than MC?

-MC: Please don't make me an option between food, Nobunaga ಠ_ಠ.

-Mitsuhide: Or maybe.. You can eat her by pouring all over her ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^)?

-MC: I will become a living swollen red bell pepper, no thanks (눈‸눈).

Mitsunari - Vietnam and the amount of motorcyclists on the road (Vietnam)

-The gangs be all flustered with their surroundings, especially Hideyoshi.

-"Stay close, all of you! It's dangerous!"

-Masamune & Mitsuhide: Yes mom ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^)~

-Hideyoshi: Who is your MOM (　☉д⊙)??

-Sasuke: It's alright, they say you can cross it casually as they will automatically avoid you.

-Hideyoshi: Impossible, isn't it dangerous? Besides, it's too close one after another!

-Sasuke: Here, let me give you an example. *Gives Mitsunari a book and whispered "You may cross now."*

-Our pure angel be like "O3O ooooh~~" And there he goes, walking straight ahead, with head buried in a book.

-Meanwhile, Hideyoshi: *Were pulled by both Masa and Mitsuhide* GAHH LET GO OF ME! MITSUNARIIIII \(Q A Q)/!!!! *GASP* NOOO NOBUNAGA-SAMA DON'T CROSS THE ROAD WHILE EATING YOUR KONPEITOOO!!!

-And Ieyasu, who has been watching Mitsunari who crossed the road safely to the other side: TCH. There's no one that hit him (•ˋ _ ˊ•).

Kenshin: 5 People on one Motorcycle (Indonesia)

-The first thing that he ask Sasuke was...

-"What is that?"

-Sasuke: Oh, as you can see, Kenshin-sama. Some people from a poor family will ride their motorcycle altogether as one. And so,.. Kenshin-sama?

-"Bringing the motorcycle back to the past would cause unnecessary scene, but an idea of 5 people in one ride is not bad. Hm."

-"Imagine, when you go to the battlefield, with 5 people in one horse, you can kill 5 people at one time."

-"Also, if they bring sake supplies, and 1 person hold one sake each, and there's 10 horses, I would've get 500 bottles in an hour."

-Them: ........

-Sasuke: Can't do, Kenshin-sama. Please pity our horse and if you work here, in this era, please don't be a math teacher. You will give a bad example in your class.

-Kenshin: Don't stop what I want to do, Sasuke (눈‸눈). Fine. Let's change that 5 person into me, and the killed people to Shingen instead. So it will be 5 of me, killing Shingen in one strike.

-Shingen: Psssh. If I were you, there will be 5 of me on one horse, so all of us can kiss MC in one go 😏✨✨✨.

-Yukimura: PLEASE STOP GAH MY BRAIN @A@

Shingen - Thailands... and their Kathoey (Thailand)

-Welp. His eyebrows wouldn't stop wiggling here and there to every pretty woman that he spotted.

-'Woman'. Heh.

-Sasuke about to warn him but Kenshin hold him back.

-"Let's teach him a lesson." He said. "It will be interesting." He said.

-And so they go to one place for dinner, when they were surrounded by a bunch of pretty women.

-"Hey handsome~~ wanna have fun with us?"

-Yukimura: Eh- uh- eh- I- I- o//////o

-"Oh come on~~~ *grope*"

-Yukimura: *Genuine Girlish Voice* KYAAAAAAAAA!!! *Fainted with foams*

-Shingen: Now, now, you girls are pretty attempting, but we need to fill our empty stomachs first, you see?

-He was occupied in talking to the girls when Sasuke whispered something to one of them without him realizing it. Then the girl went to Shingen's side, hugging his arm, "Please~ have fun with us~~ I will give you a reward if you say 'Yes'~"

-Shingen, playing along: Oooh? What would that be?

-Le girl, changing her voice into a manly one, "A lick of my lollipop, bro."

-And he fainted next to Yukimura. With foams in his mouth too.

Yukimura - Bali and their.... 'Souvenirs' (Indonesia)

-The first thing that came out from his mouth when he arrived at Bali is "Wh- wh- wh- r-romantic island?? Wh- who would show their intimacy in public--"

-*Shriek to a statue with a peculiar s*x position*

-*Shriek to almost everything*

-*Got stuck in one place until Sasuke had to pulled him out from the shop*

-Sasuke: Forgive me, bro. It's Shingen-sama's idea to enter this shop. It's normal for you to be culture shocked as one of their famous souvenirs is wee wee keychains (´・д・｀).

-"Don't say that casually OAO!"

-MC, takes one wee wee display and called out for him, "Yukimura~ come here for a sec. Look! Your wee wee (✿❛◡❛)!"

-"MMMMMCCCCCC ୧( ಠ////Д////ಠ )୨!!!!"

-Also Yukimura: *Gasp* This shop sells your kind! *Points at the restaurant that displays Rolling Pig*

-Scene of Yukimura got slapped by MC unfolds.

Sasuke - Sarawak's Blowpipe (Malaysia - Sarawak)

-Tour guide: One of the ethnicities in Sarawak is Iban people. They are known to hunt their prey with a blowpipe, which contained with a poison-coated needle.

-Sasuke: Oooh. *looks at the blowpipe* It's like detective conan but a poisoned needle ones (´・д・｀)✨✨✨

-Tour guide:

-Others:

-Tour guide: Would you like to give a try?

-Sasuke: Yes please (´・д・｀)✨✨✨ which target should I shoot it with?

-Tour guide: The balloon, next to the pole in front of you ☺.

-Sasuke: Okay. *Takes a deep breath*

-Kenshin:.......*monotonous voice* Ah, a mosquito. *Kicks Shingen to make him land in front of Sasuke*

-Shingen: H-Hey-- OAO

-Sasuke: Mmf- *Instantly pushed the pipe to shoot something else*

-*Stab*

-Mitsunari who happens to pass by: Hmm? Oh my, I don't remember this book has a needle attached to it (ㆁᴗㆁ✿).

-Other tour members: EEEEEKKKK 😱😱😱

-Ieyasu who also happens to be not to far from the group: Tch. Books from the future must not to be underestimated ಠ_ಠ. It's too thick.

[magalidragon]

Anger Management | fic teaser

a/n: I am loving kickboxing lately and naturally the most random of things inspire me...like an enemies to lovers smutfic where Dany punches Jon on accident. I have NOT punched anyone in the face in my workouts but I did punch a handsy pervert kid when I was in middle school. Anyway, this fic will have SMUT, an angry Dany, mysterious snarky Jon, Dadvos, and BFF Missandei who has butterflies on her gloves. Also weird Rhaegar makes an appearance. I love that weirdo. 😂

"Ready?"

"Ready," Dany said, jumping up and down in place, patting her fists together. She grinned at Davos. "So? Who am I kicking the shit out of?"

He sighed. "So much for teaching you to channel your anger, to control your emotions."

"Everyone always wants women to control their emotions, but men can get away with anything."

"I am not touching that one."

It was true. Not that her eldest brother had any emotions, but if Rhaegar got angry in court it was "passionate" and if she got angry in court it was "shrill." Although Dany did have to admit, spending every other day in Davos's gym for about an hour and a half was really helping with her anger, frustration, and general stress levels. She discovered she was sleeping better, eating better, and even Rhaegar commented on her "distinct calm" in the partner meeting that morning.

It was because she knew that tonight she'd be able to actually mess with someone else. She liked kickboxing. Missandei preferred to just stay punching the bag and then let Grey try to teach her some of the staff-work, but Dany was eager to try out her moves with someone else. It was the competitive streak inside of her, coming from growing up with one brother as her sort-of father and the other as an annoying twit who pulled on her braids and terrorized her. She always had to outshine them.

Now she wanted to outshine this. She had mastered the punching bag, now she wanted to try with someone else. Even if it wasn't quite 'boxing.' Davos said as much as she thought she wanted to truly 'box', there was no way he was going to risk it. "I'm not delicate!" she'd shouted.

"Oh I know you aren't, I'm scared for the men."

Today, she'd carved out exactly ninety minutes to get through this before she had to be back at work to go over briefs and prepare her statement for Rakharo's hearing the following day. She'd managed to get it reverted back to juvenile court, which infuriated Tyrion, but it made her day. She'd be before the juvenile court judge, all of whom she knew and they were mostly softies who believed in second chances, as they should. Plus, the juvenile prosecutors were usually fresh out of law school and she could walk all over them.

Missandei was still waiting on their source at the courthouse to tell them who the judge would be. Dany hoped it was Brienne Tarth. They were going up against Edd Tollet as the prosecutor and as a former juvie himself, he tended to always give benefit of the doubt. It would be Rakharo's day in court and she was looking forward to winning and getting him free. Then straight into a relative's home and back to school, learning from his mistakes.

She climbed up into the ring, bouncing around in place, liking the feel of it. It was fun. "You have a trampoline? I could do this all day," she commented, hopping around.

"I’m sure the lads would like that."

Dany glanced at some young rugby players from the high school who were doing weight training, their mouths on the floor as she jumped. She glanced at her chest; she didn't have a huge one, but it wasn’t bad. The sports bra was keeping her in place, but boys, ugh. She rolled her eyes, knocking fists together. "Okay, get in here old man."

"I have to help Gendry, he's got a bunch of new kids coming in for the session of Faceless training."

"We're teaching children how to move like assassins? That sounds dangerous."

Davos's eyebrows lifted, agreeing. "Don't I know it. He never should have recruited at the playground, tons of parents want their kids to be involved, but I don't know what they think." He smirked. "You'll be training with one of my favorites today. Jonny boy!"

Dany wondered who Jonny was, she didn't recognize the name. She glanced over and saw movement from the back office, shocked at the sight of the hot man she'd taken to calling 'White Wolf' because she noticed that there was a white wolf on his black boxing gloves and he sometimes wore a black t-shirt with a white wolf head on the front, no other insignia. Missandei wasn't giving up info if she knew him, Grey was silent as ever, and most of the time he wasn't in the gym at the same time as her. When he was, he was busy and so was she, their paths never crossing.

He was kind of mythical, she'd decided, preferring to look at him from afar. He might ruin the illusion if she heard him speak more or learned that he was a pig like her previous two serious boyfriends.

"Jonny?" she echoed.

"Just Jon," he said, accent rough. It was like Arya's, Gendry's girlfriend, who was from the North. He climbed into the ring. He wore a t-shirt over black sweats, feet bare, and his hands were bare too.

"We bare knuckling it?" she asked. That seemed a little crazy.

"Don't do that stuff here, this isn't the 1800s."

Jon picked up two pads from the corner, slipping them over his hands. He held them up, smirking. "Let's see how you do with someone moving your target."

"What?"

"Gotta walk before you can run, lass."

She wrinkled her nose. Fine. She shrugged, rolling her head on her neck. Today's outfit was an all red ensemble, her braids hanging down her back from their elaborate up-do at her crown. "Let's do this then."

Jon smiled; he had a nice smile, she'd give him that too. It was entirely unfair how attractive he was. Probably has an empty skull, all the brains knocked out from boxing, she figured. She noted that he had a couple scars on his face; he had some more on his chest too, when she caught him without a shirt. He also had a tattoo along his shoulder and onto his chest. More wolves and what she thought might have been red leaves of some sort. There was a tattoo on his inner wrist, which she caught sight of now, standing close to him.

Duty

She darted her gaze to his other wrist. There was another word there. Love. She nodded to them. "Your fists are named love and duty?"

"Something like that." He smiled again, flash of white against his dark beard. His curls were half-back from his face in a knot. He also had gray eyes. They looked practically black in the dim light around them. An air conditioner vent blasted down on them, sending a chill through Dany's spine.

Or perhaps it was the wafting scent of spearmint, faintest cigarette ash, and...woodsy pine? She wasn't sure, coming from the man she now stood about a foot in front of. He was built, but not obscenely so, not like her ex-boyfriend Drogo, who spent more time preening before the mirror inspecting his muscles than using them. Her lips twitched, lifting her fists. "What do you got White Wolf?"

Davos heard that, whistling low under his breath. "My, my Jonny, she truly has your number."

Just Jon smirked, holding up the pads, squaring off. "Let's go Dragon Queen."

She flung out her fist, connecting so hard with his right pad that he stepped back, eyes widening, surprised. She grinned.

"Dracarys."

[penguintransporter]

Winning The Game Called Love (Hector Bellerin) PART II

This is part II of my mini Héctor Bellerín story. I hope you like it, and I am thankful for all of the five or six people who read and liked the first part. You are the best… If you like this one, don’t be shy to write what you think about it.

Part I

_____ 

“You look like someone has killed your unicorn.”

Aida looked up from where she had been sitting - a single chair in the corner of the room, as an urge to take a ridiculous and cartoon-inspired double-take at the handsome footballer in front of her overwhelmed her. 

Héctor stood mere feet away from her, hands in his pockets, looking devilishly handsome in his official suit. Despite not being the tallest or the most muscular man on the squad, to Aida, he did have something that she was attracted to - character and the confidence that he toyed with tactfully. Even now, as he was staring down at her, with his eyebrows raised ever so slightly, it made Aida’s stomach do an one-eighty. 

Realisation dawned on her - he was obviously waiting for an answer, but Aida wasn’t sure what he asked her in the first place. Her brain was folding in itself from being struck by his presence to the point that she was unable to form any kind of vocal response. Like a fish, she stared back at him, trying to buy some more time. 

Why did he have to look so good in that suit?

Héctor lightly cleared his throat and Aida blinked, feeling her brain unfold before she remembered that he actually said something and that she was supposed to reply, but the “unicorn” bit had her confused. 

Was that supposed to be a joke? Should I laugh? 

Do something because he is about to leave.

“Pardon?” she asked quickly - voice slightly squeaky. “Unicorn? I didn’t get it…” she trailed off, her voice reaching her usual melody.

Héctor didn’t smile, but rather tilted his head in curiosity for what seemed an eternity, and Aida let out a breath that was a mix of defeat and disappointment. Yes, there was a huge amount of excitement bubbling up inside of her, but she was also aware that this wouldn’t be the first time that he was ignoring her. He always did, so why did she, deep down, expect some kind of conversation. 

Maybe because he spoke to you first, you idiot?

To her surprise, Héctor turned around for a second, grabbing the nearest empty chair before putting it in front of her and sitting down, gently pulling at his trousers as he did so. 

“What’s up?” he asked her nonchalantly and with a small smile, making Aida’s brain fold itself once again - her thoughts running wild like gazelles in a savanna.

Can you find gazelles in savanna in the first place?

Shit, there is no time for this right now, Aida!

If it was any other situation, Aida would be more than glad to jump on a train of bad and self-deprecating jokes, elaborate something funny, but with Héctor sitting in front of her it felt as if her tongue was completely cut off. She wanted so badly to slap herself and come to her senses because this was, to her sudden realisation, probably the first and last time she would get to speak to him properly and in person.

Finally, she gave him a shrug, deciding in panic to stick with the lamest thing her brain could come up with as she looked down at her lap. “Just enjoying the party. It’s lovely, innit?”

Oh, well done, Aida. Well done.

She was aware that anyone with the normal or even a prescription-enhanced sight and a common knowledge of body language would know that she was not telling the truth or at least that she was trying to cover her real feelings. 

Héctor wasn’t a stupid lad - Aida knew that much.

His eyebrow shot up again, this time higher before he leaned back in the chair, watching her amusedly. “I have a hard time believing that you are having fun, but yeah, let’s put it your way - the party is lit. A bit boring at the moment, with all these investors and rich men talking shit about things they don’t know anything about. The music is a downer too.”

Aida looked away, feeling like squirming under his gaze and the weight of the words he spoke, crossing her legs as ladylike as possible. 

Her throat felt like she swallowed a handful of dust - itchy and dry. It wasn’t as if she was stupid or socially awkward; she just wasn’t sure what else she could ask him. 

Deciding that she should say something before he just gets up and leaves her, she tucked a strand of her hair. “So…” she stopped for a second, mulling over her words, figuring how to formulate her thoughts “Are you happy with the season so far?” 

Héctor nodded, looking at the other side of the lobby where his teammates were standing, but Aida, instead of doing the same, focused on his tied hair, the curve of his neck, and his choice of jewelry - an hoop earring with a small cross hanging— 

“Hmmm,” he hummed looking back at her and Aida quickly dropped the staring game. “Considering the previous one, I shouldn’t be complaining.” He shrugged once again, and Aida smiled a little while crying on the inside on how pathetic she was. “Look Aida—” Héctor suddenly spoke again, a bit quieter this time as he leaned closer to her. For a split of a second his scent tickled her nose, “—that’s your name, right?” When Aida nodded in agreement, he continued, “if you want me to, I can go back to my mates, if y’know what I mean? I am not being rude here. In fact, I am trying to be friendly, but you are clearly…”

He was already getting up as he spoke, and Aida’s panic alarm kicked in - she didn’t want to remember this party like this. She didn’t want to have the memory of Héctor walking out on her because she couldn’t form cohesive sentences or be her chatty self as usual. 

“Please, sit down…” she half-asked, half-pleaded, last words coming out as a whisper. “Pardon me,” she added, “I just have a lot on my plate at the moment.”

Héctor nodded, sitting back in the chair. “No need to apologise for not feeling well,” he answered politely, “and a blind man could figure out you were not yourself tonight.” He stopped for a moment, a cheeky glint surfacing in his eyes, as he continued, “but if you were able to smile your arse off this entire time at work, you can do it tonight as well, no?”

This time it didn’t take her that long to catch up on his words, and it finally caught her what he meant with the whole “unicorn” thing. Reflexively, she straightened in her chair and folded her arms in defense. Aida was never the one to pick a fight or start a confrontation, but she was a fighter when it came to defending herself.

“I beg your pardon? Care to elaborate what you mean by that?” she asked, moving her head to one side, refusing to look at him. “You say you are not being rude, yet you seem to be mocking me even though you don’t know what’s going on in my life.”

Aida looked back at Héctor who was grinning at her, but she only knitted her eyebrows in annoyance, lifting her folded arms ever so slightly on her chest. He kept smiling, and if she had been able to, she would have raised an eyebrow at him.

“If someone should be playing defensive here, it should be me, no?” he asked, leaning closer again, smirking at her. “See what I did there? Defense, defender…” he trailed off, pointing at his chest with his thumb as he wiggled his eyebrows. 

Aida wanted to stay annoyed; wanted to make it clear that he couldn’t mock her, but as soon as the joke left his mouth, she couldn’t help herself - a burst of laughter left her throat. 

Héctor was both infuriating and cute at the same time. 

“Okay, okay,” she shook her head lightly, her hands falling back to her lap while her stomach burst into thousands of butterflies doing backflips and whatnot. “That was a good one, I admit. Still, I want an explanation.”

Héctor shifted in his seat, suddenly looking slightly uncomfortable. “It was a joke, Aida.” Aida nodded, waiting for him to elaborate but he didn’t. Instead, they settled into a silence - both of them watching people around them, until Héctor decided to cross his legs, lacing his hands around his knee. Suddenly, he spoke again. “Seriously, what’s up?” he asked as Aida felt her heart wanting to burst out of her ribcage. 

Once again, he had that playful smile painted on his face, so to avoid staring at him like a lovestruck teenager, she looked at his tattooed fingers, allowing herself time to think about her answer.

She contemplated whether she should tell him the truth or not. Was he genuinely interested in knowing what was up in her life? Or was he just being polite? Just for a second, Aida considered lying, but if she was bad at hiding her real feelings, she was even worse when it came to telling lies. Every time she tried to do so, it ended up in a disaster, no matter what was the reason or desired outcome.

Aida gazed down at her shoes and the very same speck of rain residue on her shoe before sucking in a quick breath, releasing it with a small shudder.

“I got laid off from work last month? This coming Wednesday I will no longer be working at the training centre,” she responded - the words leaving a sour and disappointed taste in her month - despite it being almost a month since she found out about it.

Aida looked up, watching Héctor’s face change from that of a silly boy to a serious one before he sat up properly, changing his posture - his elbows resting on his thighs as he leaned closer to her. Aida surprised with his sudden movement, blushed. The same scent she felt before, reached her nose again, and this time, she wanted so badly to inhale it properly. 

“Oi, that’s bad!” he replied and Aida, not knowing what to say, shrugged - there was nothing else she could do about it. “Want me to speak to someone? Maybe I can talk to the manager?” Héctor urged. 

All the fluttering from her stomach went straight to her heart.

“Thank you, but I don’t think you or anyone else can help it. The decision had been made and I already tried to talk to the department. I will be fine, I mean,” she rambled, looking up at him as she tried to give him her best fake optimistic smile. “I will find another job eventually, and anyway, there are worse things than being laid off. Imagine if I ended up on the streets or in a car accident—” Aida was fully aware that she was talking too much and too fast, but she couldn’t hold it back. The feelings she had been harbouring inside needed only one push to be released and Héctor happened to be the one to do so. “I apologise once again if I came across as asocial or something, but I.. you know.” She took a deep breath before giving him a dorky smile. “I should have stayed at home because I don’t know why I am at this party in the first place, and they don’t serve hot cocoa here, and that is exactly what I need now.”

Héctor was looking at her for what seemed an eternity when in reality it was only a few seconds, and Aida wondered if she said too much. Did she cross the border? Is he going to walk out on her thinking that she has some serious issues? 

Suddenly, he got up, straightening his trousers and then his tie before doing a wave with his hand, motioning to Aida to do the same. She kept sitting for a second, but when Héctor smiled, repeating the wave, she slowly got up. 

Is he going to ask me for a dance?

No one else is dancing? 

“Come on, let’s go.” Héctor spoke casually. 

“Pardon?”

“You should really stop saying pardon. You sound like my literature teacher and I have no fond memories of her.” 

Aida tucked her hair behind her ears bashfully. “You are giving me no choice, Héctor,” she muttered, the sound of his name coming out of her mouth feeling different than any previous time she did so. “What do you  mean by let’s go. Where?”

Héctor looked around, tucking his both hands into his trousers pockets before looking back at her with a boyish smile. “To find hot cocoa,” he finally answered, matter-of-factly.

Maybe it was her emotions or rather whirlwind of it?

Maybe it was his charming smile?

Or maybe it was a promise of hot cocoa?

Aida couldn’t help herself.

She smiled.

Part III

[punkscowardschampions]

Ruby & Cosmo

Ruby: Dying to know is every date colour coded? ❤️

Cosmo: Oh, God 😅 How unintentionally cringe

Cosmo: That sums up how well it went, sadly

Ruby: the quick reply had me thinking you were back early or answering in the middle of dinner

Cosmo: 🤫

Cosmo: I’d never!

Cosmo: It was a favour and I think that showed

Cosmo: She’s my cousin’s friend and just got dumped, sweet girl but perhaps not ready to be great company

Ruby: explains the 🌹

Cosmo: Not very personal or too basic?

Ruby: a nice try if it was your first date ever but I know it’s not

Cosmo: Thank God I didn’t get another bouquet 😏

Cosmo: They weren’t buy one get one free though, before you say

Ruby: they looked expensive

Ruby: she would’ve felt guilty throwing them back in your face

Cosmo: I told you I weren’t texting under the table, why would she need to?

Ruby: you told me why, they’re impersonal & basic

Ruby: & heartbreak makes you unhinged

Cosmo: I wouldn’t call her unhinged

Cosmo: at least not to her face, right

Ruby: 😅

Ruby: or your cousin’s

Ruby: Are you staying out in town or going home to change?

Cosmo: I don’t fancy showing up in the club in this

Cosmo: never mind hearing what my friends would have to say

Cosmo: What are you up to?

Ruby: the VIP area has seen worse, you don’t look like you raided the Gucci sale rail, eyes closed

Ruby: & your friends have worn worse, but I won’t say it to their faces

Ruby: I’m waiting for my own friends to be done making their own questionable outfit choices as usual

Cosmo: Careful, that was almost a compliment and not just a drag of the lads

Cosmo: not undeserved on their end but what did I do to make you decide to be nice to me?

Cosmo: besides entertain you with my dating woes whilst they redo their makeup, again

Ruby: You know how to dress, it’s a fact

Ruby: & I didn’t decide to be nice, it just happened

Cosmo: Not that you’re not usually nice in general

Cosmo: but here I am, feeling special, like 💖🤩

Cosmo: It’s also a fact, though not an impressive one, that I’m not lame enough to go in for that negging bullshit, so whatever I end up doing, calling you a bitch ain’t on the agenda

Ruby: there you were down in the dumps about your disaster date, I thought I’d try to help

Ruby: I wouldn’t, it only works for Mason when everyone’s too busy watching his feet move to care about his mouth & that’s not the audience you’ve got atm

Cosmo: I think I’ll survive

Cosmo: but I appreciate it

Cosmo: I’ve seen him get in trouble for his mouth plenty of times on the pitch

Cosmo: but referees aren’t ones to be sweet-talked so…

Ruby: your expensive roses are wasted on them 🥀

Cosmo: That is the real tragedy 💔

Cosmo: I reckon 🍷 could work on your dad though, whaddya think?

Ruby: aren’t we beyond bribes? I thought we were

Cosmo: You don’t have to go up for contract renewals

Cosmo: but I was joking, so don’t tell him he’s on a promise there

Ruby: oh yeah, it’s a joke you being worried you won’t get renewed

Ruby: he doesn’t shut up about you after a few 🍷’s with your dad

Cosmo: Sorry you’ve had to witness/hear that

Cosmo: can’t help my case

Ruby: it wouldn’t be realistic to entertain you or let you entertain me if he wasn’t on board

Cosmo: No?

Ruby: secrecy & sneaking around would be impossible unless we could both drop what we were doing at a moment’s notice, which we can’t

Cosmo: True

Cosmo: Neither of us has the time for that

Ruby: or the anonymity

Cosmo: You aren’t wrong

Ruby: 💖🤩 back at me?

Ruby: you’re being agreeable, above & beyond the Sunday roast standard you set when everyone was listening in

Cosmo: Agreeable from you I can take

Cosmo: I didn’t know any of you guys were going to be there, so if I wasn’t on top form

Cosmo: I’d love to have a second chance to do it better, of course

Cosmo: Somewhere more exciting than family dinner

Cosmo: and no impersonal and basic 🌹s

Ruby: I’d love to skip the club tonight, it stopped being exciting forever ago

Ruby: there’s your chance

Cosmo: Alright

Cosmo: I’ll make something happen and I’ll send you the place and the dress code

Ruby: pastel colours wash me out

Cosmo: What kind of place would be pastels only? 🤔

Ruby: [name drop somewhere boujee that you’ve been probably with your mum and godmother lol]

Ruby: you wasted the ❤️ on the wrong girl 💔

Cosmo: She wasn’t wearing red

Ruby: it was never going to work out

Cosmo: That might be for the best

Ruby: tbd

Ruby: but I’m not feeling like I’ll cry or talk about any of my exes so it’ll be better for you

Cosmo: And for you

Cosmo: not that you’re letting me be impressive with a bar that low but you know

Ruby: you’ll get over or under it if you want to

Cosmo: If I couldn’t rise to the occasion your dad definitely wouldn’t stand for it

Ruby: I won’t either

Cosmo: tbd

Cosmo: I heard

Ruby: another girl has beat me to denying you everything, I have no choice but to switch it up to keep things interesting

Cosmo: Has hard-to-get worked since the days of negging?

Cosmo: You’ve got all the choices, and no need to play any sort of game with me

Cosmo: Let’s have a good time

Ruby: it might have worked for people who want a different reputation than I do

Ruby: that’d wash me out too, the whole projection of intense cold bitch energy

Ruby: a good time is more doable

Cosmo: It wouldn’t get you very far, I understand

Cosmo: We all have to be some type of way to get to where we need to be

Ruby: yeah & talent has to be backed up with 😁✨

Cosmo: A winning personality, of course

Ruby: if I don’t have that both of my parents & coach are going to lose it, definitely

Cosmo: Well, you don’t need to worry about that, from my perspective

Ruby: from my POV neither of us will be worrying until the alarm wakes us early tomorrow & it’ll be too late to stress it by then

Ruby: the good time’ll have already happened

Cosmo: I’ll drink to that

Cosmo: [something that’s between the restaurant moment we just took Savannah to and the normal clubs they would go to, idk what that would look like, like a club that’s a bit sassier than the beyond standard ones footballers and WAGs would hang in]

Cosmo: but I won’t start without you, like

Ruby: not counting the 🍷 if the 🍝 soaked it up

Ruby: but what do you want me to wear? 🧡💛💚💙💜🖤🤍🤎

Cosmo: ❤️ off the table then

Ruby: the bar hasn’t fallen through the floor, I’m not okaying you wearing the outfit you chose for her & me dressing to match it

Cosmo: 😅 I’ve gone home but alright

Cosmo: I want to see what you come up with, actually

Cosmo: I’ll show you I’ve got better than the jumper, don’t worry

Ruby: I’ll do better than a roast with the fam, talk about a low bar

Cosmo: I think you’re probably incapable of looking bad

Ruby: try keeping me up all night & you’ll see

Cosmo: I won’t be the first or the last to show up to practice feeling less than 💯 … are all the other ice skaters perfect 😇s?

Ruby: I’m not giving any details of who isn’t, you’re a date down tonight as is, I’m not getting ditched for someone even more 😈

Cosmo: About how that looks

Cosmo: ‘cos I know

Cosmo: We aren’t going to post anything are we?

Cosmo: I’m not looking to add to the poor girl’s 💔 and I know it’s a dick move to not even wait ‘til tomorrow

Ruby: 📵

Ruby: getting into a fight with your cousin over me is even more Romeo & Juliet than sneaking around behind my dad’s back, we all know how it ended

Ruby: drama in the routine is fine but off the ice it’s not cute

Cosmo: Drama on the pitch depends how you feel about diving

Cosmo: but I appreciate that

Ruby: how I feel about diving depends how much my brother has got to me & I want to get him back for it

Cosmo: 🟥 or 🟨 depending on the day

Ruby: 🟥 usually

Cosmo: I feel that

Cosmo: about my own, usually, not necessarily yours but I can see the how and why there too

Ruby: yours made an impression, not at all good

Cosmo: That’s his speciality

Ruby: 😬 brothers bring the mood down when they’re ours

Cosmo: Neither of them’s invited

Ruby: it’ll make a change not to see mine out

Cosmo: That’s unlucky

Ruby: but you’re on to a winner with the location, congrats

Cosmo: I had a good feeling

Ruby: I’ve got one too

Cosmo: 💖🤩

Ruby: a compliment to last until I get there

Cosmo: tbd 👋

Ruby: ❤️

Cosmo: [so obviously this night is gonna go better than the awkward date, though that’s not hard soz Savannah, but also a step above the standard club moment of every weekend hence we stay out longer than we usually do when we’ve got an early start tomorrow]

Ruby: [and equally as obviously if you found enough to talk about when you were around all your annoying relatives for that roast I’m not worried about you struggling for a convo tonight, you’re both cute and have things in common and there’s clearly a vibe]

Cosmo: [I don’t think anything needs to happen tonight but it’s obvious you like each other ‘cos you could both be bothered to show and do this]

Ruby: [agreed it feels legit to who you both are and your priorities to wanna take things a bit slower than that, like it’s clearly unlike her already to do this when you were literally on a date earlier and staying out later than planned is also something neither of you do a lot so]

Cosmo: [yes, we’re not that kind of boy, not saying you’ve never slept with anyone obvs lmao but we’re not a different gal every weekend energy at all]

Ruby: [likewise neither calling this gal a nun or a slag but I doubt she's been out with that many people cos of a) her busy schedule and b) the lowkey famous dad and brother thing that would make some lads wanna try it on for that reason]

Cosmo: [exactly dr phil, you wanna skip to the AM of it all?]

Ruby: [absolutely boo]

Cosmo: 🟥 or 🟨 for keeping you out past your bedtime then?

Ruby: Are you willing to take credit or am I blaming a messy friend’s man troubles?

Cosmo: That depends

Cosmo: we would have to find a friend we’d mutually not mind throwing under the bus and I’m not sure if my brain is capable rn

Ruby: it wouldn’t be taxing to mine to think up someone believable, if you’re keen to show up to my door with 💐 & fool my dad that it’s the first move you’ve made

Ruby: for rep’s sake

Cosmo: The 💔 is all around

Cosmo: a hangover will have you feeling that way

Cosmo: are YOU keen for me to show up at your door with 💐s, that’s the real question here

Ruby: I’ll start getting hangovers when I’m old, it’s a scare tactic before, not a real thing

Ruby: impressing my dad doesn’t necessarily impress me

Cosmo: 😂

Cosmo: That’s alright, I already have impressed him, so it’s definitely not my intention here

Ruby: let’s hear what your intentions are

Cosmo: Now you’re bragging about how un-hungover you are

Cosmo: How about you let me set up a second date and we can talk about it then?

Ruby: a brag would have a selfie attached, I was reassuring you I’m not suffering mild alcohol poisoning like most of our friends

Ruby: a second date for when?

Cosmo: I’m pleased to hear it

Cosmo: it doesn’t make for a pretty sight

Cosmo: [pisstakey shot of some of the lads dying in the changing room or wherever like ew lol]

Cosmo: Send me your calendar and I’ll see?

Ruby: 😬 lovely [but send him something similar of the girls obvs and then your calendar of course, I’m cackling because what if the only time they can both do is tonight so that looks really extra when you’re both not]

Cosmo: They’d kill us for that 😏

Cosmo: [we so could, lmao okay]

Cosmo: Well, it looks like either we double down and go for tonight or we give it a rain check and see in a couple weeks 🤔

Ruby: tonight works for me but it’s you who’d be doing the work to think of somewhere else with wow factor

Cosmo: Undefeated with two wins sounds a lot better than one

Ruby: yeah & I don’t want to talk about weeks on the bench

Cosmo: Be a bit of a dirty tactic to put the blame on you for not going out with me tonight if I get benched but

Cosmo: If it works I’m not above it

Cosmo: So, what kind of place are you looking to avoid tonight?

Ruby: do we need to avoid anywhere or flash photography? your cousin & the girl they forced you to date can’t stay mad forever

Cosmo: No, we don’t have to

Ruby: 💖🤩

Cosmo: Understood

Cosmo: I’ll get back to you

Ruby: 🚫🍷🥃🍸🍹 can be tonight’s rule if you need a break

Cosmo: I don’t

Cosmo: I just needed to know what you want to do, and now I do and I’m thinking

Ruby: I know you don’t need it to have or be fun, me either hopefully

Cosmo: I think you’re fun

Cosmo: and it’s definitely tragic if you have to rely on something like that, that’s not me

Ruby: it’s nobody I know or would count as worth knowing

Cosmo: Totally

Cosmo: Okay, I’m going on the pitch, send you deets later

Ruby: don’t mess up or I’m going to cancel tonight & I don’t want to so that’ll be us both in bad moods 😘

[tocrackerboxpalace]

Le Rêve - Part 8

Summary: A desperate Paul tries to make things right.

Part 8/8. A big thank you to those of you that have followed along, and I hope you enjoy the ending! :)

With the dreary weather came added traffic, and despite the monetary incentive, the cab ride took a little over an hour and a half.

Paul grumbled a less-than-polite “Thank you” as he pushed his way out of the car and back into the rain, which had slowed to a bearable drizzle now. He waited a moment for the cab to drive off, feeling oddly insecure about his destination. The car disappeared around the bend, and before he could get around to feeling silly about the gesture, Paul leaned over and carefully plucked a handful of flowers from the neighbors’ rosebush. Cautious not to nick himself on the thorns, he arranged them in a disheveled bouquet and took a deep breath.

The thick trees loomed over him as he quickly checked both ways and crossed the street. The long and winding walkway seemed to stretch out for miles in front of him, growing farther away each time he blinked the droplets out of his eyelashes. Never had the walk up the drive seemed so insurmountable.

When Paul finally reached the front door, he noticed his hands were shaking. His pulse picked up as he knocked sharply, and he stepped back to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Paul felt tears of frustration burn against his lower eyelids. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected—he hadn’t called (reasoning being he didn’t think John would have picked up), and who was he to assume that John had simply gone home after what had just happened? Who was he to assume anything?

“Fuck,” Paul murmured aloud, wiping his nose on his sleeve and turning to go. “This is ridiculous.”

He managed to take one step before the sound of a latch rattled through the air, and the door creaked open.

“Paul?”

Paul spun around instantly, whipping the bouquet around his back. “Hm?”

Cynthia eyed the strange angle of Paul’s elbow as she mindlessly dried her hands on a dish rag. She took a cautious half-step out the door eyes flicking around the porch, presumably surveying to see if anyone else had accompanied him.

“It’s bloody miserable out here,” she noted, dropping the air of perplexity in an instant, though her eyes kept trailing to the bend of his arm that hid the flowers. “Come on, let’s get you inside. I was just making supper.”

Shaken out of his daze, Paul adopted a charming, gracious persona and ushered her back inside with an “after you” wave of a hand. Cynthia spun on her heel, throwing the towel over her shoulder and disappearing into the house. Paul followed not far behind, careful to drop the roses into the bushes before ducking under the doorway.

“John’s around here somewhere,” she called over her shoulder as Paul removed his shoes and coat. “Are you two writing together tonight? He’s been in a sour mood ever since he got back from the studio today. I figured he’d cancelled anything.”

Paul felt a massive wave of guilt wash over him. The picture of John’s face, just before he’d run out, burned behind his eyelids: the mixture of fear and shame and disappointment and hurt. Paul had spent the first hour and a half alone in the studio trying to push the image from his mind.

Cynthia blinked at him patiently, and he realized that she was waiting for an answer.

Paul cleared his throat unceremoniously, neither party acknowledging that he hadn’t brought anything besides himself. “Erm, yes. Writing. Maybe he’s forgotten.”

“I wish he’d tell me these things,” she muttered, half to herself, turning back towards the direction of the kitchen. “Be nice to be a bit prepared for guests.”

Paul shot her what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Cyn, am I really a guest to you, after all these years? Besides, ‘m not hungry anyway, thanks.”

She gave him a playful grin over her shoulder in return. “Right. I’d still like to be a good hostess, even if it’s just for family.”

The way she said “family” turned Paul’s stomach inside out. He felt a sudden chill settle over his body, sending a shudder down his spine. The innocent, welcoming, familial smile on Cynthia’s face no longer seemed any of those things, but instead made him want to curl into a ball, or take off running and never look back. It seemed to hit him all at once—Cynthia, Julian, John. A husband and a father. And his best mate. What had he come to accomplish? What did he think was going to happen? Paul suddenly felt nauseous, and the memory of John’s breathy curses as Paul pulled him to the brink of orgasm flashed through his mind.

Shit. What was he doing here?

“Y’know, actually,” Paul started, taking a step back and stumbling over a stray toy that only made him feel worse. “He’s probably in no state to write, if he’s all worked up, so I should really get going, sorry to bother—”

“What are you doing here?”

Paul and Cynthia both froze, neither hearing the man enter the room, but neither missing the bitterness of his voice, either.

John stood a step or two behind Cynthia, almost protectively, peering over her shoulder at Paul with a frostiness he’d only seen in recent arguments. Paul only stared back helplessly, wordlessly, everything that he wanted to say rendered unspeakable in the presence of the third party.

The three of them stood in that arrangement for a solid minute, no one daring to speak. Paul watched Cynthia shift uncomfortably at the tension, witnessing something she was clearly not privy to. To Paul’s relief (or dismay?), she quickly muttered something about checking on the food and excused herself from the hostility.

“We need to talk,” Paul said quietly, as soon as she was out of earshot.

John’s gaze followed his wife’s path out of the entryway. His eyes flicked back to Paul’s, angry, hesitant. Paul held his breath as he waited for the man to explode, exposing himself and his partner and all of the fucked up mess they’d gotten themselves in.

Instead, John sighed defeatedly. “Fine. Let’s go for a walk.”

—

Paul wracked his brain for something to say.

The ground moulded softly to their feet, sticks and leaves dampened by the earlier downpour and less than vocal. There was an eerie echo in the air, the kind of atmosphere that only exists after a heavy rain, when one is made aware of just how earthly the world is. The sounds were naught, the wind was still, the smell fragrant and sharp. Typically a pleasure, the serenity of the environment only seemed to mock the tension between them.

He knew he needed to be the first to talk. In the context of everything that had happened, Paul figured he had needed to be the first to talk a lot. He knew that John was expecting, even if he wasn’t sure of what to expect, and Paul needed to deliver. Something, at least.

But where to start? Because, “Hey, mate, sorry for not saying I love you back,” felt like a pretty shit place to start.

After two more minutes of walking in silence, Paul started to wonder if a place to start was as good as anything.

He cleared his throat, sensing John tense beside him at the sudden sound. Neither lifted their eyes. Now that he had John’s attention, it was now or never.

“I—erm. I’m sorry. For not saying it.”

John shook his head, but the way his features softened in amusement didn’t go unnoticed by Paul, who suddenly felt like crying with relief. Especially at the next remark. “Shit place to start, mate.”

“Figured why beat around the bush, right? Straight to the point, it is,” Paul joked, unable to suppress his giddiness at the tease of normalcy.

“Trying new things, are we?” John quipped, an edge to his voice.

Ah, the tease of normalcy. Exactly as it sounded.

“John, I—”

“Why?” John interrupted, halting suddenly. He turned towards Paul, his eyes dull with smoldering anger. Residual anger accumulated and compressed into the coals that were confronting him now. Paul felt dumbfounded, and a bit fearful.

“I-Why what?”

John gestured helplessly around them. His voice sounded extremely tired. “Why this? All of it?”

Paul heard the question for what it was. Why me?

“I love you.”

“Bullshit.”

“No,” Paul insisted, taking a step forward. They froze, neither knowing what he would do next. John’s eyes were wide, almost as if his fight or flight instinct was scrutinizing Paul’s every move. After a beat of silence, Paul scoffed and stepped backwards once more. “I mean it.”

“Why didn’t you say it?” John sounded pouty, like a child. Insulted.

“Because!” The word came out much stronger than Paul intended, shocking even himself. He took a shaky breath and raised a hand to his mouth to nibble on his thumbnail as he sorted it out. He began to pace, John’s eyes following him back and forth expectantly. He tried again.

“Because, I don’t know what to do with that feeling. I don’t know how to feel about you. I never have. Even from the moment I saw you, and you looked so fit with the guitar and the quiff and the way you were singing ‘Come Go With Me’ directly to me. And you weren’t, but it felt like it. And I’d never been so nervous in my entire life than when I talked to you after. Because you were John, the lad I’d seen on the bus and at the shop and on the streets, the lad I’d heard about but never actually met. And when I did meet you? It was like everything had fallen into place. Me mum, me dad, school, a career, war; all the things in life that were a drag to me weren’t even there anymore. Because I was in a band with the great John Lennon!

“And I came to hate anyone that had you more than I did. I can’t get on with people because of it—Pete Shotton never shut his gob about all your wild misadventures together, and I’d want to punch a bloody hole in the wall when I would see your eyes on Stu during ‘Love Me Tender’. And I feel so fuckin’ bad to this day for the way I treated Geo when he showed us his first song, but I couldn’t have someone else to compete with for you. I couldn’t. Because I need to be around you, John. I need to be yours as much as you are mine.

“And it’s only grown in all the years. At first, I needed you to like me. Then, I needed you to be proud of me. Then I needed you to trust me, as your equal, and come to me for things and with things. And for us to have the silent little conversations, and to be in tune with one another, and to know you better than I know myself and be known by you. And I still need all of those things, but there’s a new element. Now there’s the want.And maybe it started with some stupid fuckin’ dream but my feelings didn’t stay there. And it took a lot of reflection, to put these feelings into perspective. I've had a lot of time to think, recently. But now I recognize them for what they are. And I’ve never felt like this about anyone before, John. No one ever tells you that when you really love someone, there’s a lot more to it than just love. Or maybe all that is love. But if-if this, between us? If it’s not love, then-then I’m not sure what is.”

There was a long beat of silence. John gazed up at him with an unreadable expression.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

Paul wrung his hands out in front of him, only now noticing how badly they were shaking. His chest heaved as though he’d only just finished a marathon. Fuck, indeed. “Mm.”

“The roses were cute,” John remarked, after a moment. A teasing smile threatened to envelop his features.

Paul stopped in his tracks, feeling his mouth form a surprised “o” as his mind fought for an excuse. Whatever he expected John to say after all that, that was not it.

Finally, he settled on something just as suave and poetic as his earlier monologue: “Huh?”

“Saw ‘em through the window,” he answered dismissively. “Bit queer. But, cute nonetheless.”

Paul blushed furiously, chastising the all-too-large part of himself that craved romanticism.

“I would’ve forgiven you, anyroad. Even without the roses,” John added quietly, his gaze dropping. He gave the ground a crooked smile. “Maybe not for a while, and maybe not all the way. But I can’t… help me self around you. I can’t explain it. And it’s absolutely awful, y’know. It’s been hard for me, too. Because I know that even if you just…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Used me, I’d still come back to you. Don’t get me wrong, I’d be right pissed for a while. It’d hurt like hell, but not as much as being away from you. Not as much as whatever has happened between us.”

The confession was painful. Paul felt a sharp twinge in his heart, almost as if it was the blade that he’d placed there himself. The idea that these past few weeks John had been moping around, ignoring him, reciprocating every effort to ensure that they were never alone, had been because John had thought he was being used. That Paul wanted him, but not in the same way that he wanted Paul.

He didn’t know what else to do.

John breath hitched as his back slammed into the stone wall, but his gasp was cut short as Paul’s lips devoured his own. His mind short-circuited, nothing more in the world existing at that moment than John, John, John. It’s over now, he wanted to comfort, to take John’s head in his hands and stroke the beautiful auburn hair behind his ears and thumb a stray tear from his cheek before placing a honey-sweet kiss on his trembling lips. You don’t have to feel that way anymore. And all he could do in the moment was try to convey that recognition through the kiss.

Fuck it if it would complicate things. Fuck it if they had to hide. Fuck it if it had to end someday. Because right now, all that mattered was John and Paul. As they were meant to be.

John hesitated only a millisecond before back fervently, almost as if he was afraid they would drift away from one another if he gave it any less effort. His tongue was elusive, licking into Paul’s mouth in all the right places but retreating as Paul chased it with his own. Their torsos were a mess of hands and body, pulling restlessly at one another every which way. Paul couldn’t get enough—he was too deliriously happy that they simply weren’t fighting anymore.

As the desperation began to subside, and the boys realized that they were both finally going to stay, the kisses gradually grew light and chaste. Paul felt lightheaded when they finally broke away for a deep breath. John gazed up at him, perfectly picturesque. His cheeks were flushed, lips pink and shiny, his breath coming out in short puffs between them in the shared air. Neither one of them dared speak, as they’d ruined far less important reunions than this with far too many words. The shared silence said more than words could, anyway. Neither had to explain the gravity of the situation to feel it.

Paul wasn’t sure when it had happened, but their fingers were laced together. Gently, as if trying not to spook a wild animal, he lowered them to the ground. Neither minded too much about the rain or the leaves or the damp dirt as they curled into one another, backs against the stone wall. They spent a long time listening to one another’s breathing as it slowed, watching rivulets of rainwater snake from leaf to leaf before pooling at their feet. Everything was okay.

“Paul?”

“Hm?” His fingers traced lazy circles on the soft underside of John’s forearm. His eyes were open, staring at a beading droplet, but they felt locked in a daze that was a cross between asleep and awake.

“Paul.”

Paul groaned at the insistency, a twinge of annoyance stirring in his chest at the interrupted bliss. “Yes?”

“What now?”

Paul blew a long stripe of air out of his lips. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I rather don’t want to consider it. The implications of it,” he rephrased quickly, panic welling up in his throat at the similarity of another “forget it” line. It threatened to bring a whole mess of neural connections that he simply didn’t want to deal with, namely: the awkwardness of the car ride and his resultantly strained relationship with Brian; the tensions in the group and an explanation for their soon-to-be-easing; the way George’s eyes slipped in between them more often than ever, but this time with an air of trauma; how the hell they were going to keep this to themselves if they were so god-awful at it already. Yes, better not to consider the implications yet.

John nodded in understanding. He waited a moment before speaking again.

“Cyn and I…”

As John trailed off, Paul’s eyes shot wide with alarm. His head whipped around to face John with a terror he hoped didn’t present as dramatic as it felt. No, no, no, why was he bringing her up? Why? When finally, finally everything was going well?

John refused to meet his gaze, and Paul waited patiently for the dreaded words of regret to come.

“We’re done for.”

Paul blinked uncomprehendingly.

“I mean,” John began, scratching the back of his neck. “Not officially, or anythin’. But I can see it. We’ve been cold for a while now, an’ it’s only a matter of time ‘fore she up and leaves me. We haven’t talked about it. But… I’ve been with her for ages, Paul. I know her at this point. There’s nothing left.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Paul asked quietly.

“Because you’re not just some bird, Paul!” John immediately flushed, realizing how silly the words sounded out loud, especially in the wake of their earlier conversation. He tried to backtrack, speaking slowly, explanatory. “I mean—I… Listen. I haven’t been the best to Cyn. There’s been loads of others, but it never meant anything. And you and I? I don’t know what this is.” He laughed, suddenly, as if the realization was just now striking. “Christ, do I not know. But it’s too good and too right. And I feel like I owe it to ya—to us—to cut the ties that may be stronger, even if it’s ties of a meaningless institution. I jus’—I dunno. I don’t want you thinking I keep you around for a good fuck and a song or two.”

Paul felt a wide grin spread across his features, and not only at the messy comment. He elected not the mention the way his stomach flipped upside down at the way John had said “us”. Instead, he chuckled lightly, and fished around in his pocket for a ciggie.

“And what a way with words he has. Ladies and gentleman, the better half of the world’s most famous songwriting duo!”

John scowled playfully. “Oh, piss off. How’s this for a rephrase: On account of our complicated and lustful affair of cosmic proportions, I would love it if you considered yourself an exquisite lady of the night proficient in excellent lovemaking and even more excellent intellectual stimulation and is paid with reciprocation rather than meaningless currency.”

Paul frowned around the fag as he focused on lighting it. “Worse. Much worse.”

John gave him a cheeky wink and flicked the end of his nose, causing Paul to gasp and drop the butt end of the cigarette onto his chest, leaving an angry black mark on the shirt. Paul jerked from the shock and swore. John only cackled at his misfortune.

Paul scowled at the loss of his fresh ciggie and the fading surprise of the burn mark. He hastily brushed at the ring, which he now realized was a minute but fizzling hole, and shot John an accusatory (but, regretfully, uncontrollably good-natured) glare. “You’re a child, Lennon.”

John grinned. “But you love me.”

Paul sighed, and for the first time in weeks, he felt utterly, blissfully, peacefully happy.

“Yes. I do.”

[aces-to-apples]

Written for Day 5: Fluff of Codywan Week 2020 @codywanweek

Here on AO3

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Category: Multi Relationship: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi Characters: CC-2224 | Cody, CT-7567 | Rex, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker Additional Tags: Background Padmé Amidala/CT-7567 | Rex/Anakin Skywalker, Implied/Referenced Future Rexsoka, GFY

For best results please look at this Rex and this Cody before reading.

“tribute”

Another one of the local little chompers marched towards the dais with all the solemnity and determination of a verd’ika plucking their first set of whites off the assembly line. Cody met Rex’s eye and they both very carefully avoided grinning at the sight. Not only could it be bad for their relationship with said locals, it wouldn’t do to let their Jedi think they were, in fact, having a good time up there.

When the kid came to a halt a ‘respectful’ distance away, Cody nodded for them to approach and bent his head to receive the kid’s blessing and subsequent gift. He watched Rex do the same.

The celebration had been going for hours, by that point, and they’d amassed a pile of shiny little wearable trinkets to give any sovereign of Naboo a run for their credits and enough blessings to make them holier than most deities. It’d been a relief, at the start of the night, to hear that—aside from the ceremonial outfits they’d been bullied into wearing—he and Rex were free to redistribute the gifts as they saw fit. Something about sharing luck, or good vibes, or what have you.

Said ceremonial outfits, on the other hand, they were obliged to keep and maintain with honor.

Obi-Wan had smoothed over any offense they’d given with their lacklustre reaction to the news but Rex’s general had been less than subtle in his delight at their new possessions. Tano, at least, had just told them they looked nice and kept her own mocking to a bare minimum.

And it wasn’t that they were grateful, Cody had reflected at the start of the celebration, when he and Rex had stepped out under the light of the moons to deafening cheers, but. It wasn’t quite their style, no matter how well the two of them pulled off the intricate, and admittedly beautiful, get-ups.

Rex, by dint of his Torrent paintjob, had been immediately deemed the locals’ Goddess of War come again and draped accordingly in layers of blue fabric. Some of it was dark and blaster-resistant and some of it pale and so sheer as to be almost nonexistent. Bands of silver, often studded with precious blue stones, were wrapped around his wrists, forearms, biceps, and throat, and a silver cap affixed with yet more jewels and a pale blue veil had been placed on his head with much reverence.

After a great deal of muttered debate, they determined that Cody must be their war deity’s twin, the Goddess of Beauty. Not an insult by any means…

The traditional garb he’d been presented with, by contrast, was deep red with a long flowing cape and headdress of heavy twisted fabric. It came with its own set of jewelry, as well, shining gold and polished red stones, bulky and eye-catching around his wrists and throat and slim and delicate around his forearms and biceps. Something about the placement was culturally significant, but hells if Cody was going to ask what.

They’d already lost the battle against: 1) staying for several days to rest and recuperate, 2) accepting the titles of living incarnations of their local deities and all the celebration that entailed, and 3) keeping both the get-ups and the gifts for themselves.

No way was Cody going to invite more conversation about their cultural practices. He could win against droids and bounty-hunters and half-baked Sith, but apparently, he couldn’t convince a bunch of over-awed, Mid Rim locals that he and Rex weren’t tools of War and Beauty.

Tools of the Republic, sure, but nothing divine.

The leader of the city they’d liberated had just smiled gently and reassured them that belief on their part was not necessary, only acceptance of their gratitude. Which came with lots of shiny metal, sparkly rocks, and a pair of gowns that they had to either accept or throw into a sacrificial fire and publicly reject.

Obi-Wan had stepped in at that point.

He’d assured everyone that they had no interest in disrespecting their culture and asked for a debrief about the ceremony.

Wear the outfits, sit on the thrones, and let people fawn over them at least a little bit, had basically been the long and short of it. But, hey, they were comfortably cushioned, well-fed, and kept hydrated throughout the whole thing, so it could have been worse. Sharp-toothed little ankle-biters shyly kissing their foreheads and handing them shiny bits and bobs before scampering off weren’t much of a hardship.

“How’re you fellas doing?” Skywalker asked, strolling up to the dais with a grin that had yet to falter all night. “Getting into the spirit of the thing? Really feeling the divinity flow through you?”

Plenty vode had wandered over to check on them over the course of the night, mostly to heckle, but the Jedi had visited just as frequently. And for similar reasons, too.

The way Rex’s general had been eyeing him all night, Cody was almost worried for Rex’s safety. He’d heard plenty of complaints from Obi-Wan about Skywalker’s willingness to eat damn near anything; who was to say that he hadn’t acquired a taste for Mandalorian-adjacent flesh and wouldn’t gobble poor Rex up in just a few bites.

He was pretty sure Commander Tano was having some kind of intermittent crisis over at their table as well.

It was his responsibility, as both Marshal Commander and ori’vod, to bring his concerns to his superior officer and then ruthlessly mock all three of them. After Skywalker eventually got tired of making Rex blush and wandered away whistling a jaunty tune to a very raunchy cantina song, that was.

“So does that ‘angel’ of his know the two of you have started sharing blankets since your last stop-over on Coruscant or should I start planning your funeral now?” Cody said archly, watching his vod’ika visibly consider punching him. “I’ll be sure to wear this and lie about how smart and good-looking you are, like a proper vod.”

Rex pressed a hand over his eyes and groaned. “Angel knows,” he admitted, darting an unsubtle glance at his general’s shebs. “What I am afraid of, though, is that next time we stop over on Coruscant she’s gonna have a whole new wardrobe just like this one and it will just happen to be in my size.”

“Well, hey, get a full-coverage veil and you’re probably good to step out with them,” Cody said with false sympathy, gleefully imagining the uproar that would cause. “Just make sure they’re made out of that fabric that’s designed to ruin holos. Pakod.”

The ol’ boy made a sound like a malfunctioning mouse-droid.

“Is it too much to believe that I’d like to spend whatever leave I get wearing as few clothes as possible?” he wailed, quietly, with a desperation that made Cody think this was an argument he and the senator had gotten into before. With this revelation in mind, he snapped a few holos of his own while Rex was distracted and vowed to get them to the senator if Skywalker’s brain cell was too lonely to manage it. “Isn’t it enough that I have this already?”

“Oh, dear me,” a low voice said from behind Cody’s left ear, “I can’t imagine how terrible it must be to have two attractive, attentive lovers who wish to shower you with tokens of their affection. Truly, Captain, your misery must be exquisite.”

Cody turned his head to press a sloppy kiss to Obi-Wan’s cheek in gratitude for the pitiful sound his words had drawn out of his favorite brother.

“General,” Rex whined pathetically, “they keep getting me plants. Alive ones, dead ones, prickly ones, poisonous ones. My quarters are being taken over by non-sentient invaders.”

Obi-Wan made a little noise of patently fake sympathy. “My old master’s quarters were like that as well,” he commiserated, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin behind Cody’s ear. The noise of the locals around them changed in pitch, but Cody’d had enough to drink over the course of the evening to not feel worried by the change. If he was lucky, Obi-Wan would be shoved into a pretty outfit like this next. “It drove me mad that he never formally answered, let alone turned down, any of the suits. Just let the poor, smitten beings keep sending him gifts. So uncivilized.”

“Speaking of uncivilized,” Cody said, wondering if he could get away with pulling Obi-Wan down onto his lap.

Rex rolled his eyes. “If I don’t get to canoodle in public with my Jedi then you don’t get to with yours,” he huffed, leaning over to push Obi-Wan a few inches away. “Leave room for the Force, sirs.”

“‘Leave room for the Force’?” Obi-Wan repeated, nonplussed, while Cody found himself hung up on, “Canoodle?”

No longer quite so flustered, Rex shrugged. “Skywalker talks like a scandalized opera singer, sometimes, and Ahsoka says that when she catches the lads giving each other a tune-up. How’s the kid doing, by the way?”

“Well,” Obi-Wan said ruefully, “she’s seventeen and in the middle of a war and puberty. Thus far, I believe she’s coped by placing you all in the ‘dear friends and family whom deserve her utmost respect’ category of her mind, rather than allowing herself to see you as attractive young men. Tonight seems to be causing some kind of breakdown in that line of thinking.”

Cody turned to give Rex his full attention and clapped him on the shoulder. “Cheers, vod’ika, keep it up and you might have a full set soon!”

In response, Rex covered his face with both hands and groaned again.

“Remind me to send the good captain some appropriate literature about age of consent laws, would you, dear?” Obi-Wan murmured into his ear. He most assuredly was not leaving room for the Force between them. “Until then, I believe you mentioned being uncivilized?”

Cody made a mental note to remind him as requested before standing up, bowing at the local assembly, and following Obi-Wan wherever he led.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

I miss just being in other places

(Obviously a pandemic is serious business and obviously it's basic human decency to treat it as such but I'm feeling weird tonight and need to bellyache about stuff sorry)

Like I'm not an avid traveller and I have limited social energy but I miss going to visit a friend for a weekend and exploring cosy old pubs in towns I've never been to before, I miss going for afternoon tea, I miss charity shopping, I miss exploring woods and parks, I miss sitting in a pub or cafe and just bashing out some writing in my notebook with some pleasant background noise and no home distractions, I miss going to just spend some time on a friend's couch in companionable silence with something fun on TV or playing games, I miss occasionally meeting other people (preferably other queers with whom I can engage in long, relaxed Socratic dialogues about gender and sexuality without having to always reiterate The Basics). I miss having other things going on and other places to be to distract me from all the shitty things going on in the world because rn the internet is my biggest connection to the world which means I'm always the first to goddamn know when Tr*mp isn't paying his goddamn taxes and R*wling is going further down the TERF rabbit hole.

(and obviously it's important to keep up to date on current events especially when human rights are at risk, but no human was designed for endless day in day out newsreels of misery, it breaks your hecking brain and if you're gonna be wired into the bad new matrix at all times you need to at least try to counterbalance it with the good stuff)

I'm an introvert, and a homebody, and I can be comfortable and settled staying in the same place for a long ass time so I know I'm doing better out of this than a lot of people are but knowing that you have to stay put- and so does everyone else who shares your space- is just a lot and it really makes the walls start to close in. My attention span is getting worse and worse because the days melt together, the future is a fog and time has no meaning, I just measure my days in hand pain and number of Red Dwarf or Taskmaster episodes re-watched. Books go unread and gathering dust on my shelf, I manage maybe a couple of words a day max of writing when this time last year I'd just finished a 118k word story in five months (largely scribbled in notebooks at a pub table over pints of alco-free strawberry kopparberg). Creative hobbies feel like they take up too much s p a c e, physically and mentally, and I can't get started. Same to consuming new media, new shows and movies and books, opening my head to new characters and worlds feels like too much effort, even though ironically I'm craving new mental and sensory input. It sucks. It's exhausting.

I'm not saying it's been all bad. I've been able to actually sleep in my body's preferred rhythms, for once. And being away from society at large with time to just exist in my own skin and space without too much pressure from other people has led to a lot of fun self-discovery- but even that's hampered, because were it not a pandemic I'd be supplementing all the old femme clothes I got rid of lately with some fun new masc things from charity shop trawls. I've picked up a couple of things online but it's not the same at all, I want to blow like a tornado through secondhand and vintage shops, try stuff on and rebuild myself from the ground up, with a friend or two who get what I'm going for along for the ride. Instead it feels like the shiny new me (who btw is just like, so much more confident than the me before in so many ways holy cow do I feel liberated 10/10 would recommend some casual gender exploration) is just indefinitely shelved. Which SuCKS. Here I am, a fresh and adorable little nonbinary man with very fluffy hair and I can't even go out and flirt with lads. What a waste.

And yeah I know, I know, I could go out, we're not in the strictest of lockdowns atm (least not where I am) and a lot of people are just going out shopping and socialising. But! It's stressful and inadvisable. I know I said I'm more confident now but that's just like, generally, in myself and my presentation- I still have social and health anxieties and they're pretty hecking amplified if you put me in a crowd of strangers, half of whom don't know how to wear a mask properly. I can't have fun and cut loose under these conditions, nor should I, this ain’t a game. Things aren't gonna be 'normal' again for a long time, they'll probably never be completely normal again but if they get close, it's not gonna be for a while. In the meantime, a night on the town or a shop trawl feels like an activity with high risk, low reward and a considerable amount of stress.

I was making tentative plans before all this hit, seems like a lot of people were. I was eyeing up a prop making course down in Brighton, thinking 'bout building up that portfolio making props for some amdram productions, thinking 'bout saving up some cash if I could, maybe looking for some little jobs in aid of that. I guess in a sense I am saving money, not having anywhere to go or anything to spend it on. But it all feels so formless now. Maybe I'll still do it, maybe I'll put it off two more years, I just can't tell; it's very likely that this time next year, when I would potentially be starting the semester, it still won't feel safe and my already very belated uni fresher's experience will be hamstrung by virus anxiety and numerous other horrible things. Obviously leaving home is always a big, unpredictable change but this is ridiculous.

Look, big ramble aside, I'm actually okay. Mostly. Surprisingly okay, really, considering I've been off antidepressants for several months amidst a pandemic. Major, major executive dysfunction aside I'm mostly holding up alright, serious mood swings are infrequent and mostly period-triggered, full nights of sleep are being had and the positive progression of gender discovery has buoyed my spirits somethin' wonderful. But some nights you just sit, staring at the six youtube and thirty Ao3 tabs you have open that you don't actually feel like watching or reading but staring at a screen unseeingly feels less daunting than trying to do something that engages you or makes you happy and you just think... shit.

[mithranqueersmusings]

Before This Dance Is Through I

Chapter: 1/16

Rating: T

Summary: Ringo's being going through a dry spell for the last year or so and when he regretfully tells his best friend John, he insists on taking them to an all-male strip club for some "fun". Ringo isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, his desperation or a mixture of the two but he thinks he might be falling in love with a stripper.

Tags: AU - Strippers, Modern Setting, Smut, Slow Burn

Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

It had been over a year since Ringo had sex, but the only thing worse than that was telling his best friend John drunkenly one night. John never seemed to have any trouble finding someone to sleep with, it was like second nature to him, but still neither of them seemed to be making any progress in the relationship department. Ringo had never been a massive fan of one night stands, but at this point he'd take anything he could get; John on the other hand seemed to prefer them, the amount of notifications he got on his phone from Grindr or Tinder, or whatever new app he was trying out, was astounding. In general John was more open - and obvious - about his sexuality, sporting a pin that read 'sword swallower' almost every time they went out. Ringo wasn't ashamed to be gay, that was far from the truth, but he just never seemed to align with the more flamboyant expression that a lot of gay men tended to follow. Despite all this, it didn't stop him from allowing John to drag him out to Pride every year covered in glitter and cheap boas, or to a gay club every other weekend, or in tonight's strange case: a strip club.

The two of them tried to meet up at least once a week to have a catch-up and tonight was one of those nights, it had started with dinner at Ringo's place but ended up - as it often did - at the pub. John was very open about his sex life, Ringo didn't particularly mind but recently it had been bothering him since he had no stories of his own to share. It was difficult to pinpoint exactly why it had been so long, it seemed like in the blink of an eye a few months had turned into over a year. He was just always so busy with work and when he wasn't working he was either sleeping or with John, there was just no room for another person; although his bed did feel incredibly empty. Ringo knew that all it would take would be to follow John's confident lead, to get dressed up - or down - and to seek somebody out in the club, or even try one of his "dating" apps, but as he got older Ringo just didn't feel incredibly comfortable doing that. He had begged John to not drag them out to a club that night, which he begrudgingly agreed to, but it then lead to the dreaded question.

"Well how long has it been since..." John finished the sentence with a raise of his eyebrow.

"Since what?" Ringo chuckled nervously behind his drink.

"Since you had a good shag." John widened his eyes dramatically, stretching his neck forward.

"Erm... Not that long." Ringo mumbled then desperately took a sip of his beer.

"Jesus, that long?" John tutted and leaned back in his chair "Why didn't you tell me? I could've set you up with someone."

"No offence but I'm not massively interested in your 'friends'." Ringo bent his first two fingers to make air quotes.

"There you go again talking about 'interested in', it's just sex Ringo!" John raised his voice a little, a telltale sign he was getting drunk.

"Keep your voice down, Jesus." Ringo hissed "I'm just sick of all the meaningless sex, alright?"

"You say meaningless like it's a bad word." John chuckled then sighed when he saw Ringo's disapproving look "Fine, fine. But that doesn't mean we still can't have some fun tonight."

"No, John. I am not in the mood for a club tonight." Ringo said plainly.

"I didn't say anything about a club." John grinned in his signature way, a way that made Ringo panic.

"What then?" Ringo asked cautiously.

"Well..." John began, drawing out the word "There's a little place I've been frequenting that might interest you."

"Out with it, Lennon." Ringo rolled his eyes with a small laugh.

"Just hear me out, okay? Because as soon as I say the word you're instantly gonna say no." John had put his drink down now, meaning he was being 'serious'.

"What word?" Ringo huffed.

"Strip club." John spoke quickly "That's two words but you get my point."

"No." Ringo said simply.

"Come on! Why not?" John whined, reaching his hand forward to pull at Ringo's sleeve.

"Because I don't want to. The last thing I need is some lad giving me a lap dance and I cum like that." Ringo clicked his fingers to emphasise his point which made John laugh.

"You're so modest." John giggled "It'll be fun, I swear. If you don't want any meaningless sex or whatever, you may as well go the next extreme."

"That makes no sense." Ringo was trying not to smile but it was difficult with John.

"Look, you're probably gonna go home tonight and wank to some boring, twinky porno, right? How's it any different to go and watch some beautiful, twinky dancers in real life? I'll tell you how it's different, it's better." John had begun pointing his finger with almost every word.

Ringo sat in silence for a moment then burst into laughter "I hate that you know me so well."

"I'm your best friend, it's my job. It's also my job to get you out of this rut you've gotten yourself into, and if you won't let me set you up with anyone and I'm guessing you won't let me get you a prostitute..." John paused and looked at Ringo with hopeful eyes.

"No." Ringo scoffed.

"Then you have to at least let me take you to this strip club. It's not that seedy, I promise. There's some gorgeous guys there, and I mean gorgeous. You don't even need to get a lap dance or anything if you don't want to, we can just sit at the back and drink, just like we're doing now." John retained his hopeful gaze.

Ringo paused once again, screwing up his face slightly in thought then let out a heavy breath "Fine."

"Really?" John almost gasped.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm just about drunk enough to go along with this." Ringo laughed "Let's just go now before I change my mind."

The two of them downed what was left in their drinks and headed out into the night. Ringo pulled his coat close to his body as they walked down the street, John leading the way excitedly; Ringo couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him so happy. It was cold enough to justify getting an Uber, but Ringo didn't think he'd enjoy the knowing look on the driver's face when he dropped them off at a strip club. The walk to the gay quarter of the city was a familiar one, it was almost exclusively where John spent his time therefore where Ringo would find himself at the end of most of their nights together. Ringo was aware of a few more 'adult' establishments in this part of town but sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between what was a sex shop and what was merely a gay bar with a raunchy name. It didn't take too long before they'd arrived outside a fairly large building painted all black with neon trimmings around the doors and windows and a few people outside smoking; they passed John a knowing nod which Ringo was hardly surprised by.

"The Helter Skelter?" Ringo asked as he read the sign, turning to John.

John shrugged his shoulders "It's phallic, I suppose."

The inside looked considerably less questionable than the exterior, but it was also incredibly dark. As they entered one of the bouncers greeted John warmly, and Ringo was certain he'd seen him in the morning at John's at least once or twice. The music was loud to say the least, it probably wasn't any louder than it was at the club but the whole atmosphere made everything seem more claustrophobic. There were two bars that Ringo could see, one near the entrance and one towards the back which gave a better view of the main stage. The scantily dressed men hadn't caught Ringo's eye immediately, though he was consciously trying not to stare, but once he noticed them it was hard to ignore; almost all of the men walking around were shirtless, some of them in nothing but a jockstrap and a bow-tie or a hat - Ringo wasn't sure whether that was meant to be sexy or comical. He suddenly felt very aware of his presence and couldn't feel like he could walk much further than the door, but John was already sauntering in like he owned the place, which he probably wished he did. John turned around when he noticed Ringo wasn't beside him, gave him a frustrated look and hurried back over to his side.

"What's wrong? Cock got your tongue?" John winked but it didn't help Ringo relax in the slightest.

"I should probably go home." Ringo murmured, he didn't feel like he had full control over his mouth.

"Don't be a git, we're here now. Let's just get a drink and observe, okay?" John didn't wait for a response, instead he practically dragged Ringo over to the bar.

The bartender offered John his usual and Ringo ordered the same, not knowing exactly what he was ordering but his brain didn't feel able to process the question.

"How often do you come here?" Ringo asked when the bartender turned around to make their drinks.

"Not as often as I'd like." John was already perusing the crowd.

"But why?" Ringo turned his back to the club, feeling unable to look at the spectacle on the main stage.

"I dunno, I just like it. Mixes it up a little. It's an art, you know? But its like... sexy art." John rambled and Ringo couldn't help little out a low chuckle.

"Sexy art? Sometimes I wonder why I'm still friends with you." Ringo mumbled.

The bartender returned with their drinks and the two of them muttered a thanks, Ringo began drinking it desperately to calm his nerves. Out of the corner of his eye he could see John mouthing words to someone across the room, as much as he told himself he didn't want to know what was happening he couldn't help turning in his seat to get a better look. On the other side of the club was a man meeting John's gaze and mouthing back at him, he was holding a tray of drinks and serving a group of men without breaking eye contact. Once the tray was cleared the man gave a smile to the customers then began walking over to the two of them. He was one of the few men actually wearing a shirt but his bottom half was almost entirely exposed, wearing tight, black shorts and boots with a sleeveless, white shirt with a black bow-tie to match, it was supposed to be some kind of a 'sexy waiter' costume Ringo guessed. He had a very pretty face, Ringo had to admit, with dark hair and large, doe eyes and a fairly slim body; yet the petite appearance he had was counteracted by his body hair, of which there was quite a lot, with his arms and legs covered. Ringo wasn't trying to stare but it was difficult when someone looked so inviting, but the man hadn't given a single glance to Ringo as he walked over, rather his eyes were fixed on John's entirely.

"Fancy seeing you here." The man spoke, he had quite a soothing voice.

"Haven't scared me off just yet." John grinned but then turned to look at Ringo "Where are my manners? This is my mate, Ringo. It's his first time in a strip club, can you believe it?"

"Virgin, eh?" The man laughed "Well we'll have to make sure you have a good time tonight, won't we?"

Ringo felt his face getting a little hot with the man looking directly at him, he let out a nervous laugh "I'll probably just stick to drinking."

"Come off it, we're gonna get you a lovely lad." John nudged him playfully then turned back to the man "Who's working tonight?"

"Same old. Except, we do have a newbie that started two weeks ago." The man smiled somewhat devilishly "He moved over from the joint that shut down, what was it called..."

"Honey Pie?" John replied a little too quick.

"That's the one. Awful name." The man chuckled.

"I can agree with that." Ringo spoke after taking a final sip from his drink, signalling to the bartender to get another.

"Well he's up on stage next I think, in a few minutes or so." He gestured to the stage where a man was currently on all fours twerking to a Britney Spears song "Could give you some time alone, Ringo, while I take care of your friend here."

Ringo gulped and looked over to John who had his eyebrows raised suggestively "No harm in looking, I suppose."

"That's the spirit, Rings." John smirked "We'll just finish up our drinks, when the new guy's up I'll come and grab you, yeah?"

"Sure thing, love." The man winked then headed back off into the club.

Ringo had already almost finished his second drink, gripping tightly onto the glass as though it would crush his nerves somehow. John slapped him on the back warmly, ordered a second drink for himself and leaned on the bar so that he could get a view of both Ringo and the rest of the room.

"You two seem to get along." Ringo had tried to sound jokey but the tension in his body was immense.

"Oh yeah, me and Paulie go way back." John chuckled.

"Paulie?" Ringo asked.

"Well his name's Paul but you know me, I love my pet names." John finished the last drop of his first drink.

"Not much of a stripper name is it? Paul." Ringo chuckled quietly.

"Well he's a stripper and his name is Paul." John was looking at Ringo a little worriedly "What should he be called?"

"I guess you're right. I just figured it was like porn stars or something." Ringo let out a heavy breath and tried to straighten his back, he'd been huddling over the bar as though it would protect him somehow.

"Well you better not make that mistake again. That'll get you kicked out before you can say 'latex jockstrap'." John picked up his second drink now.

"Why do I feel like you're doing this to punish me?" Ringo groaned.

"Loosen up, Ringo. Let's get another drink in you and we'll see how you feel, yeah? I'll stay with you if you want but I figured you might be a little more comfortable without me hovering around." John motioned to the bartender for another round "All you have to do is sit back and watch the bloke dance, is that so hard?"

"It might be hard, that's the problem." Ringo laughed, he felt himself loosening up a little.

"I wouldn't worry about that, they probably take it as a compliment. Hell if I was grinding on a bloke's lap and he didn't even get a semi I think I'd slap him one." John patted Ringo on the back again, a lot harder than he probably intended.

John continued trying to get Ringo to relax for the next several minutes and it seemed to work, although Ringo felt the alcohol was the main factor, and it wasn't too long before the stage was emptied and a voice came over the club announcing the next dancer: Spike.

"Spike?" Ringo asked with a giggle.

"Oh so Paul isn't stripper enough but Spike is too stripper? Make your mind up." John got up from his seat and motioned Ringo to do the same.

They headed over to the seats that surrounded the stage, Ringo wanted to sit at the back but John shoved him forward to the front. Before he vanished off in search of Paul, he reached into his pocket and fished out a couple crumpled notes which he then thrust into Ringo's hand. Ringo stood there dumbfounded for a moment before music began playing and he quickly sat down in a chair, he regretted how close he was to the stage immediately but he figured it might look a little insulting if he moved now. He tried looking around for John but he was nowhere to be seen, neither was Paul for that matter.

Ringo recognised the song quickly, it was 'Fame' by David Bowie and it was some consolation that the music was at least familiar but then he began to worry whether he'd be able to listen to it again without this memory coming back to his mind. He didn't have very long to worry because someone was walking out onto the stage, and Ringo swore for a moment his heart stopped. Spike, although Ringo seriously doubted that was his real name, was absolutely gorgeous. He came out in a mesh vest and purple baggy trousers, his dark hair was slightly coiffed - an attempt to give him a Bowie look - and his face was insanely chiselled. Ringo's mouth dried up almost immediately and he cursed himself for not bringing a drink with him, a part of him wanted to get up from his seat and rush out of the club but an even larger part was desperate to stay, to watch.

Spike made his way slowly down the stage, swaying his supple hips as he walked, a serious and sultry look in his eyes. There was a fixed pole in the middle of the stage which he gradually moved over to, standing in front of it then lowering himself down to the ground with his legs spread wide with one hand ghosting over the pole and the other running down the inside of his thigh. Some of the other men in the club had already begun whooping, yet Ringo didn't feel like he could make a noise if he tried. Spike then began thrusting his hips slowly into the air, rolling them in a circle with his mouth slightly hanging open. He lowered himself onto the stage floor so that he was balancing on his knees, he straightened his back and ran the hand that had previously been gripping the pole to run over his chest. His slender fingers began toying with the fabric at the bottom of the vest, his other hand mirroring the first, and he raised his eyebrows just slightly in the direction of a group of men who called out incoherently to answer the unasked question. Then the vest was peeled off his body agonisingly slow revealing a toned chest beneath it, and Ringo suddenly realised he'd been clenching his fists tight enough that his nails had begun to leave marks.

Ringo swore he was feeling light headed, his vision felt a little fuzzy and his heart was racing. Spike had continued moving his hips to the beat of the song, one hand roaming over his now bare chest. Much to Ringo's dismay he began walking off the stage into the crowd, first heading over to the group of men Paul had been serving earlier to collect the notes they were eagerly waving in the air. There weren't too many people in the club, it was a Wednesday night after all, which meant Ringo wasn't as hidden as he'd like to be. When he saw Spike turning his gaze to look at him, a bank note currently between his teeth, he felt his heart drop. Both of his fists were clenched in his lap and his heartbeat sounded almost as loud as the music, but worst of all he was hard. Shit. If it would've looked rude to have moved seats earlier, it would have been like a spit in the face if he got up and walked away now.

Ringo wasn't sure if Spike could see the intense panic he was currently experiencing, perhaps that was the very reason he was coming over. He continued to sway his hips as he walked, his brooding eyes fixed unshakably onto Ringo's, a small smirk on his thin lips. Spike looked Ringo up and down, his tongue darting over what looked like rather sharp teeth, before he turned his back on him and began lowering himself down onto his lap. No contact was made, instead he hovered painfully close over Ringo's growing erection, grinding his hips with his hands sliding over the silky material of his trousers. It was torture, but just about bearable. Ringo was gripping the arms of the chair ridiculously tightly, he wondered if he'd be able to break them through the power of his panic alone. He focused on controlling his breathing, but it was increasingly difficult when Spike looked over his bare shoulder and licked his top lip sinfully. You can do this, Ringo kept telling himself, and he almost believed it until things got much, much worse. There was a ripping sound and Ringo felt all the air leaving his body, he couldn't even prevent the rather pathetic moan that left his lips; Spike had torn off his trousers in one fluid motion, throwing the discarded fabric onto the stage, revealing nothing but a jockstrap underneath.

The group of men began cheering again, one of them urging Spike to come back over but he didn't pay them much attention. Instead he turned back around to face Ringo which only made things more difficult - hard would've been a better word to use - with Spike's bulge almost eye-level with Ringo and his sharp face looking down at him. Ringo looked up to meet his dark eyes and felt like he could've orgasmed then and there from a single touch but before he could get too used to the sight, Spike was returning to the stage. Ringo had no idea how a single song had managed to last this long, but apparently it had, and he was almost certain he couldn't survive another minute of it. When Spike had begun wrapping himself around the pole, Ringo forced himself to get up from the seat and find the nearest bathroom to cool off. While a part of him was still worried about appearing disrespectful, he wasn't quite prepared to be reduced to a pile of sweat and moans in front of all those people.

In the bathroom, which was thankfully empty, he splashed his face with cold water and stared at his face hard in the mirror to gain some sense of normality. Part of him wished he'd be able to hide in there until the club closed but unfortunately that wasn't a valid option. He took a few deep breaths and headed out of the bathroom, making a beeline to the bar near the entrance and ordering a drink immediately. Spike was still on stage dancing to another Bowie number, but Ringo forced himself not to look. Two drinks later and Ringo felt an all-too-familiar slap on his back as John reappeared into his sight.

"What you doing sulking over here?" John asked, he had a very satisfied grin on his face "You're missing the show!"

"Fuck you." Ringo chuckled, the glass in his hand was almost empty.

"What? Why?" John scoffed.

"Look at him, he almost killed me!" Ringo gestured drunkenly over to the stage.

"Jesus, I'll be honest I didn't expect him to look like that." John snickered "You can't tell me you didn't enjoy it."

"A little too much, if I'm honest." Ringo sighed "But right now I'd love to go home and have a very, very cold shower."

"You sure I can't tempt you to a private dance?" John nudged him.

"No." Ringo said firmly, but his speech was a little slurred "Home, now."

"Fine, suit yourself." John groaned "Did you at least give him some money?"

Ringo paused for a moment then reached into his pocket, pulling out the same notes John had given him "Oh, suppose I forgot. My mind was a little preoccupied."

"Who raised you?" John scoffed, snatching the money back "The money's not for you."

"You do owe m-" Ringo began but John cut him off.

"Don't start with that." John was looking out across the room again and motioned for Paul to come over.

"You want another one already?" Paul purred after hurrying over and looking down at the money.

"Not tonight, love." John winked "Can you pass this on to the new fella, Ringo was too busy trying not to cream his pants that he forgot to tip him."

Paul looked over at Ringo with a smug smile "Enjoyed the show then?"

"Depends on your definition of 'enjoyed'." Ringo mumbled into his drink.

"I'll make sure it gets to him." Paul swore as he took the notes from John and tucked them into the waistband of his shorts, Ringo debated how hygienic that was, then disappeared into the club once again.

There was a silence between the two of them for a while before John began to laugh for no real reason, and Ringo couldn't prevent the contagious nature of it, so the two of them sat laughing at the bar for a few minutes. When the silence fell again, Ringo was the first to speak.

"Now can we go home, please?" Ringo urged, discarding his empty glass on the bar.

"Fine, fine. Thanks for coming with me tonight, and more importantly: you're welcome." John got up from his seat and Ringo sluggishly followed him.

"For what?" Ringo asked.

"For giving you something new to wank about." John giggled.

[jae-canikeepyou]

| bad boy | j.jh | sequel

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader genre: au t/w: slight violence and blood. a/n: a sequel was requested for this scenario & to be very honest i thought it’s best to leave as it was.. but who am i to turn down my lovely readers? 🥰 as promised, here it is! blame my lazy butt for procrastinating to post it. it’s not proof read too woohoo! 😂 anyway, enjoy! :3 ~j

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“...i’ll be happy to see you again.”

it was the only sentence that stuck into the back of your mind. a similar feeling to when you liked someone and his very existence wouldn’t just leave you alone. you thought you might go insane because every time you think of nothing at all, that dimpled smile of his reappears and your brain immediately sends all kinds of signals that maybe science couldn’t explain, let alone you.

the students who walked pass you and him had questionable stares. you were well aware that jaehyun was fresh from returning back to town; though according to him it only had been two years. even the faces of the neighbourhood gave scoffs and looks of disbelief; unconvinced that he had changed for ‘the better’. honestly people still avoided him— maybe it was due to the fact he wasn’t seen as often by day, only at dusk.. doing stuff that jaehyun himself chose not to remember.

coming out of the university, an annoying tug on the shoulder caused you to turn around to identify the doer, jolting you back to reality from your thoughts. however the tug was too familiar that you already knew who it was, even with eyes closed. he bugged you during training— though it was not in a bad way.

the regretful look on his face made you pinch his cheeks with his dimples as the support. he was one good-looking lad with now good intentions to help people. ever since that encounter with him at the alley, he never really left your side; stuck with you like glue. your parents joked about how he was as loyal as a golden retriever would be to his owner. he followed you everywhere and even if you didn’t mind, you had to remind him about boundaries.

and boundaries meant when he accidentally followed you to the toilet that one time.

leaving that aside, jaehyun smiled and this adorable puppy with chocolate eyes made you snap your fingers. “jaehyun, i told you not to stare at me like that.”

“why can’t i? i already told you you’re pretty.” he smirked, nudging a tease with his brows. “it’s worth staring at, even for a whole day.”

“uh-huh.” you hum in faux agreement. “and you told me that a month ago, which was after your friends broke my door. you’ve been calling me that nonstop.”

“it’ll approximately be thirty two- no, thirty three times i complimented you, today included.” jaehyun took your bag with him. as gentleman as it sounds, your own friends once had to pull your stuff away from him when he did the kind gesture the first time.

“hey, give it.” you attempted to retrieve it back when he raised it higher.

“maybe i’ll consider if you give me a kiss.” he poked his cheek, leaning into your face. you gave him a disgusted look before it turned out to be more so when he pointed his lips instead.

“in your dreams jaehyun.” you rolled your eyes, nudging him to leave the training centre.

you both spent the next two hours chilling at a local coffee shop, doing some recaps of what you learnt earlier. to your surprise, jaehyun was actually quite studious. it was a little difficult to approach him whenever you had questions. who knew that behind the acronym the townspeople gave him, ‘bad boy’, was a very hardworking and intelligent guy. sometimes you would think he was a real-life manhwa character, where he’d ace a test despite worrying over whether he’d flunk it.

on the bright side of jaehyun’s reputation to everyone, some students would arrive in crowds after your training; which was, how you’d call it, fanbase. they’d usually giggle to themselves and ask for a picture, but jaehyun declined their requests.

whilst at the café with chill jazz music playing, and despite feeling uneasy and worried for no reason at all, jaehyun sighed deeply, indirectly asking to call it a day— it was already 10 pm. every friday night, he’d go with you to the orphanage to read books to the children; or go along with them to give medical care with a stethoscope just to satisfy the curiosity of the kids.

jaehyun fumbled his bag to look for his keys. you waited for the lad, skimming through the university’s fountain and statue. you looked at the far distance, and the unease came back just when you thought it went away. “okay i got them. let’s go.” he tapped to us shoulders.

you soon hopped onto his car, fastening your seatbelt as you propped your arm onto the edge of the window rest. “tired? me too.” you heard jaehyun ask, his car keys clashing towards each other before being put onto its place.

“yeah i kinda am.” you lied, still having that uneasiness stuck in your chest. at the night you met jaehyun, you would say that the encounter with the screwed-up man traumatised you; the sound of gunfire rang in your ears, the man’s grip onto your wrists left a bruise, jaehyun’s flirtatious moves to his favourite couple’s daughter.

“well, we can go to the riverside if that’s what you’re looking for. tell your parents we’ll visit the kids next week and that you’re on a date with me.” he started the engine, rubbing your head with the other hand as he began to drive.

“a date with you? i’ve got other priorities.” you eyed him with a grin.

“change it then. put me on your top 5 or something.” his proud giggles put a confused look on your face and his lips flattened quickly at your response. jaehyun hoped you at least felt butterflies, but maybe it hasn’t developed yet. “what? i gotta be on your list somehow.”

“oh wow jaehyun you’re really determined.” you soothed your temples and he just laughed. “fine, uh. top 10?”

“agh man i gotta work nine bars higher to be your top 1.” he faked a hiss, earning an airy scoff from you.

“you’re not gonna be my top 1. my mom and dad are. education’s second.”

“then third?”

“no. that’s my bunny’s place.”

“ugh bunbun’s before me.” he whined. “anyway i’m gonna be part of your top 5.”

the car turned to a much narrower road. jaehyun insisted it was the shortcut and that the longer way was going to take minutes. not like you wanted to assume highly of how he knew some paths, but maybe he had dealings or encounters before at 17 years of age. heck that was him in the past. he was different now.

he reached out to the stereo and made a few taps onto the touch screen, sliding his fingers to the side to maximise the volume. it was a playlist full of jazzy, chilling instrumental tracks to hype up the mood and taking your heads off of studying. you never really heard him sing before, but you knew he was a good one in just humming.

as you listened with the playlist he tuned in, your eyes stayed on the road for a good minute before the car’s side view mirror flickered with lights, catching your attention. to be exact, they were red laser lights.

was something there? or were you just tired?

you brushed it off, telling yourself continuously that it was a result of staying behind the laptop screen too long. jaehyun didn’t seem to notice so maybe it was really just you. the car finally reached a stoplight, you sighed heavily at its disappearance when you looked at the mirror of your side.

but then it flashed again.

as if you both were being followed.

jaehyun spotted your discomposure and the frequent shuffles in positions to find comfort of the seat. “y/n, need a break? wait a little because we’re almost there-”

“i- i think we’re being followed.” you find your palms clenching the sides of the seat, avoiding to look at the mirror again. the feeling you had that night at the dark alley came back; chest pounding and breaths so uneven. you didn’t tell jaehyun what you felt that night and kept it to yourself so of course he wouldn’t know of your situation now.

jaehyun’s brows creased inquisitionly, his pupils shifted to his side of the mirror in an instant. they grew wider at the sight of a familiar vehicle and logo that was overlapping the car brand. he thought he’d never see them once more, but unluckily he did tonight. he cursed in whispers and although he said it softly, those alone made your worries shoot up like rockets. the circular light emitted green. you felt your body being pressed back against the seat at the force and speed jaehyun drove. “we’re gonna have to skip the date and rush home, okay?”

he tapped the stereo’s touchscreen to mute the track that coincidentally matched the tension you both were feeling now. “you’re driving fast~” you said with your sarcastic singing. a hum from him raised a tad more worry. “why are you driving fast~”

he only chuckled.

“jaehyun, the only time you drive fast is when we receive an medical emergency!” you panicked in all high pitches your voice could ever give.

“uh- this is kind of an emergency y/n!” he still gave a giggle despite being in a frenzy.

“it’s not medical! we’re not in the ambo!” you huffed in excessive breaths to attempt to calm yourself.

“i know but-”

gunshot.

it wasn’t once.

it was five times at most.

you gasped then squealed, unsure whether to cover yourself with your forearms or still hold onto the seat. jaehyun pulled over the car to a stop, making you shiver and the feeling went down to your spine then palms while your grip tightened onto the seatbelt. you let the window on your side lower for some air. it might seemed strange to some people passing by, but you were muttering words as if you were enchanting a spell to summon the supernatural; where as in fact you were really, really scared.

at times like these, all you wanted to do was to head home and forget that this ever happened.

“why did you stop?” you asked, sounding panicky and jaehyun didn’t seem to do the same. “we’re being chased and you decide to-”

the scratch of the tire from the vehicle following you hit from behind, plunging both of your torsos to the front and stretched the seatbelts. your eyes blurred for second and as the clear began to come in, jaehyun signalled you to bend low. when you obliged and cowered down, he took off his jacket and placed it above you. “y/n, don’t get off the car. i got this.” you felt that he grabbed something from the drawer in front of him, later putting it in his pockets.

you hitched a breath. “w-why? where are you going?!”

“shhh.. if you did, i won’t forgive you.” he warned and closed the door.

“stop cutting me off!” you gave a little tantrum that you hit your head onto the pull-out drawer. “stupid jaehyun!”

you heard mumbles of exchanged dialogues between jaehyun and two late twenties men. the patience you’ve always had had run out and carefully your fingers pulled the door handle to head out. soon you found yourself tiptoeing and crouching all at the same time; just like how you used to sneak to the kitchen at midnight to grab some snacks. the air was cool, much to your surprise jaehyun and the two men were just, talking.

in the two weeks since knowing jaehyun, you hesitated in asking more of his past. not that you couldn’t tolerate the endless stares and whispers from the public, but you were just curious about the man who evolved to b.a.d boy. 

“jaehyun.” you whisper-yelled but there was no response from him. he had his hands behind him. though relaxed, there was tension shown in them. based on his gestures he knew of your presence. his hands formed to a ‘thumbs up’; turning sideways, telling you to head back into the car.

you had your palms onto the door handle when the conversation became clear to you.

“what're you both doing here?” he asked the two men, later their surnames revealed to be park and jang. “i thought i said i’m resigning.”

“you resigned before boss made his decision. he wants you back in the group.” park said, handing him an envelope. “accept this and you’ll get all you asked for; your own room at the base, the money from-”

jaehyun took the envelope and tore them to pieces. “i’m not going back to that life ever. knowing you lot, pisses me off up until now, you tried luring me into dirty money.”

it wasn’t like you wanted to get involved with jaehyun. it just seemed you were just caught in the wrong time and in the wrong moment. even that night in the dark alley. you mumbled and grumbled to yourself, profanities spoken internally that maybe you shouldn’t have heard something so private-

“then i could just guess you’re now using her for dirty money?” jang caught your collar and pulled you from behind the car. “you really think you could earn money without our help huh.”

“y/n, i told you not to come out.” he turned around so quickly that the scowl from his lips made you regret breaking that order. 

“who do we have here? jaehyun you seem to get yourself a hottie-” park walked closer to where you were.

“let me go.” you spat him, disgusted at their assumption. 

“let y/n go, she has nothing to do with this.” jaehyun grabbed your arm, putting you behind his large, broad frame.

“sure will, jung. but she has something to do with you.” park laughed, his hands reached for his pocket. jaehyun didn’t seem to see that, but you were aware where this might escalate to. you plunged forward that you were in front him, hugging him fully before your friend realized the frightful action.

bang. bang.

the tightness and uneasiness in your chest wasn’t the car chase nor the two men, nor the fired gunshots.

it was the men’s bloodlust for jaehyun.

they cursed and yelled as they left the scene, saying that they meant to shoot him, not you. it took a while for jaehyun to process what had happened. he looked down at your collapsing body, blood dampening his hands as he touched the wound to stop it from bleeding further. “y/n?.. y/n! stay with me, okay? don’t you dare close your eyes on me!”

he saw you attempting to caress his cheek with a pained smile before it turned emotionless. 

“y/n!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

it had been exactly a week since you were shot, because of that jaehyun avoided you. people looked at ease when they saw you alone and you weren’t used to it. he would always be there every second of the day, either already buying you lunch or carrying your bag. not even your parents heard of him when after jaehyun brought you to your apartment. having parents work in the medical field sure was convenient.

the morning’s sun shone your room and you stood in front of your mirror, still in your pj’s. turning slightly to the side, you lifted the fabric to see the two sets of stitches just below the bra strap line. your mom knocked onto your door, smiling in relief at the sight of recovery. “breakfast’s ready.”

you smiled back, remembering the worries plastered on their faces. in most cases, a patient would want to see their parents once they came into the conscious. for you however, wanted to see jaehyun. “yeah i’ll be down soon.”

the smell of toast and hot chocolate smacked you in the nose and you started walking slowly down the stairs. your groggy eyes caught sight of the one you didn’t want to see. “ah, she’s awake.” your dad nudged the male. jaehyun looked up at the loft, his ears shading from pink to red. 

he gulped, and your dad laughed. “wow that was loud. chill jae, she’s walking down the stairs, not the aisle.”

“i didn’t think of that, sir.”

jaehyun got up from the dinning area to help you. his fingers felt the bandage wrapped around your torso and immediate guilt flushed his body. “y/n i-”

“don’t apologize. it wasn’t your fault.” you smiled and he flattened his lips, surprised that you knew what he was about to say. as you sat down, your parents were all dressed and ready for work. “i just got here and you’re leaving me alone?”

“that’s why we called jaehyun here. he lives just across the street. we’ll see you tonight sweetheart.”

silence consumed the house once the door shut to a close. jaehyun rested comfortably on the chair with his arms behind his head. hungry as you were, you began to eat, cautious and carefully. you told yourself you should be used to having him around. however, it was today that you felt nervous. even his exhales got you on the edge. you tried to look at him, only to avert your eyes immediately when he caught you. “how’s the wound?” he asked.

“well i never thought i’d experience it myself before i’d treat actual patients.” you said, soon grasping the situation that you didn’t mean to put it directly at him. “ah i’m not saying this because i blame you for what happened-”

“i know, but.. you did treat me when i was shot.” jaehyun took a sip of his cup. “so your answer’s invalid.”

“you asked the damned question jaehyun!” you scoffed and slight stood from your chair.

jaehyun saw a brief shade of pale onto your lips and went beside you. you looked up to see him with eyebrows narrowed. “get up, i’m checking your wound.”

“my wounds are perfectly fine! mom just fixed it.” you angrily munched on your toast when he suddenly knelt on the floor, back facing you. “what the heck are doing?”

“i’m giving you a piggyback ride.” his hands gestured you to get on.

“what am i, five?” you ignored his offer.

“what are you, ms. stubborn? if you move now, you’ll widen the already opened incision.” he finally turned around to carry you and when he placed you on the sofa, he grabbed the first aid.

“this is so awkward.” you sat in front of jaehyun as you lifted your shirt. 

“not at all. i’m treating a stubborn patient who apparently is very cranky early in the morning.” he carefully cut the surgical tape and held his breath when he saw the two stitches from gunshot wounds onto your flesh. “look about this..”

you waited for him to speak, but he didn’t continue further and treated the wounds. “why are you blaming yourself?”

“because you got hurt.” he gently dabbed with a cotton. “when it was supposed to be me. i didn’t see that he already got it out and before i know it, blood was spilled.”

“but you didn’t pull the trigger.” you bent your head down.

“but i’m the cause why it triggered, okay?!” he raised his voice, making you flinch at his tone from behind. “i ran away from my past so that i could live a good one! yet it still haunts me and every where i go, i’m always caught in their web! it’s been like this! then when i met you, i was afraid and i knew that i’ll eventually put you in harm’s way. deep inside me, i saw it as a sign that being with you might protect me, that they wouldn’t do anything to me when you’re with me. then when the gun fired, there you were saving me from my mistakes and-”

you felt a heavy weight onto your head, teardrops dampening the nape of your neck. “i’m so sorry y/n..” 

“you really *coughs* are a bad boy.” you said so suddenly that jaehyun shot up. your coughs made him to kneel in front of you, checking if you were alright.

“what?” he asked.

“a baby and dumb boy.” you giggled through breaths and though it got him taken aback, he was assured, somehow. “did i ever blame you for the gunshots? did i say it was you who hurt me? i never thought of you as the guy everyone thought they saw two years ago. so why are you still sticking with the fact that i might change after that night? i know you grabbed a gun too, but you didn’t bring it out. if you ran away from the past that just means you’re willing move forward to the new. if you’re afraid of ever hurting me, i know fully that you’ll never do that.”

he sat onto the carpet waiting for your next words; like a golden retriever, you told yourself. “i was looking for you when i woke up and besides, when i took the bullet.. it’s kind of..” you paused. “..returning the favor for saving me too? if you were shot, it might ease the people who were judgmental of you but.. not me. i wouldn’t be able to sleep if that happened you know? like-”

you saw his torso moving closer to yours. it was brief, but you saw the warmest smile from his lips before he hugged you. his hands caressed your head as if he was doing it to a child. “ah.. so i topped first?” 

“ha?” 

“i was your top 1 after all.” he smiled that his cheeks formed those damned dimples. “you thought of me before your parents and bunbun.”

“n-no! i mean i-it’s normal, right? the last person i saw before fainting was you so i-”

jaehyun rather than listening to your excuses longer, he preferred to hug you before you catch his ear turning redder. when he let go of you, his eyes twinkled as if a shooting star reflected in them.

“y/n, do you know you’re extra pretty when you’re flustered?” he teased, going back to treating your wound.

dumbfounded, you scoffed at his easy-goingness. “do you know you’re extra flirty when you think i like you?”

“you don't like me?” he whimpered how a puppy would do.

“i don’t.” you replied so proudly.

“that’s so mean.” he began to take the scissors to trim off the extra strand of tape. “i compliment you all-” 

you closed the gap in between. “i love you.” you closed your eyes as you said the three words you planned not to tell him. 

jaehyun gasped but he smiled afterwards. “my dream’s granted already?”

“urgh don’t make me more embarrassed than i already am jaehyun! i hate it when you’re always having fun and-”

“i love you too.”