#I could make myself a cozy little nook away from everything else to write in

[himblebo]

All I want is a little house that is big enough for me to have a sewing room so that I can just. Work at my museum during the day then spend the evenings cooking and the weekends sewing. Tend to my silly little house plants. Maybe get married and be the femme housewife I’ve been yearning to be and share it all with my wife but maybe also never get married and that would be okay too. Because I would have my little house and my sewing room and my plants. And some nice birds that I befriend in my nice little tiny garden.

[cjenvs3000w22]

What I've been thinking about - Growing up

When I saw this week’s blog didn’t have a prompt, my first instinct was to text my roommate to complain about it; “how am I supposed to know what to write about if there is no guidance!?” But before I hit send, I realized that’s what I will write about this week - Growing up and the absence of guidance as we enter adulthood.

People say that moving away for university is when you are truly on your own for the first time; you don’t live with your parents (finally haha), you are in charge of your own meals and health, your school work is all on you because no one is nagging you to do it all the time, and frankly if you don’t no one is checking up on you to see why you didn’t submit an assignment on time. As a third year student, I have lived away from home for the majority of the last 3 years, and it definitely has its pros and cons. Pro number one, I have my own room while I’m in Guelph and don’t have anyone telling me that I need to go to bed (I share a room with my sister at home and this is a regular occurrence). Con number one on the other hand, I miss home cooked meals. My specialties in the kitchen include grilled cheese and peanut butter toast, that’s about it! Being an adult on my own now though, it is important that I am fueling my body with good nutrients to keep my brain sharp in school and my body healthy to fight off unwanted…viruses, for example…, but as a person who is a picky eater, I don’t eat as many vegetables as I probably should, which my mom would tell me all the time if I were home.

Moving away from my horrendous eating habits, another thing that has been on my mind related to growing up is stress. With midterms coming up and graduation starting to come into view, I have found myself in a constant state of stress. I am fortunate though to have roommates that can help me through the dark when I see no light, and my mom just a FaceTime call away when I need her. Not everyone is this fortunate and have to work through the dark times on their own. If I ever feel like I am going through something alone, or am simply not ready to talk about it out loud yet, here are a some ways I get through it:

Going for a walk - this is a great way to free my mind and get myself out of my room. Oxygen is also great for your brain after a long “grind session” during midterm season

Cry - although it sounds counterintuitive, I find putting on a sad movie and crying everything out can be a good release, maybe not the most healthy way to deal with it, but it works for me

Take a shower - I know personally when I get in a depressive mood, I tend to stay in bed for as long as days at a time, so jumping in the shower just to rejuvenate myself and cleanse not only my body, but my mind is a way out of the dark

Music - sometimes the most simple things can cheer you up, so for me it is music; whether it is listening to my vinyls, or pulling my guitar out, music is something that has always spoken to me in a way that nothing or no one else ever could.

Reading/self care - I have one spot in my room dedicated to reading, it’s just cozy and warm and a great place to get lost in a good book. Self-care, in any form, is important for your mental health. This can include any of the above listed things, as well as doing your skincare routine, doing your makeup/hair, or even just getting dressed and out of your pjs can be positive actions taken to improve your days

Left: my vinyl set up, with some of my favourites from my collection on display; Right: my cozy reading nook

When it comes to stress and anxiety, I am no expert, but part of growing up is being able to work through the hard times on your own. This post kind of got a little out of control, but I’ll end by saying, once we are on our own, every decision we make (or don’t make) without guidance from parents or teachers or friends has set us on the path we’re on now, and although the journey may be hard, the final destination will be worth it.

This magazine-book type thing helped me through a lot, great tips and tricks for improving mental health inside

Cheers!

[0kayblue]

Stupid House

Summary: You buy the house that Robin loved even after she left you.

Word Count: Just short of 3k

Notes: Nothing is gayer then buying a house that your first love was in love with. Even when she left you high and dry.

Character Relations: Robin x Reader (romantic relationship) Steve x Reader (platonic relationship)

A/N: It’s been awhile hasn’t it? I’ve had a hard time bringing myself to write but I decided to just throw this little idea out there. It’s not very good but it is something. 

WARNINGS: Bad writing, you’ve been warned.

As you and Robin walked down the street casually chatting over the sound of crisp autumn leaves being crushed under your weight. You were torn between listening to every word that came out of her mouth and the multiple houses that stood solidly next to each other.  

Some were newly remodeled and others just new. You thought about all the things you would do differently with them. The type of flowers you would’ve planted outside, or the patio furniture you’d put on the porch. Your mind drifting through the front door and inside, imagining the layout. What rooms were where, how many there were, and how big they were. Thoughts of colors you’d like to paint the walls and themes you’d put in rooms that were barely used. You even started daydreaming about a master bedroom with a king sized bed. Lazy Sunday afternoon naps with light barley creeping its way in through the curtains. Thin fingers gingerly running through your hair as your hand trailed up and down her back. Buried in the crook of  her neck, the mix of her perfume and natural scent enveloping you in comfort.  

“What do you think?” Robin asked, beaming at you. She pulled you out of your thoughts faster than almost anything else could. You just smiled at her and nodded. You had absolutely no clue what she was talking about. 

Robin rolled her eyes and smirked, knowing that you weren’t exactly with her right now. Physically you were right beside her, mentally you were in her arms.

 “Okay, so bright  yellow platform boots for your birthday, duly noted.” Your full attention brought back to earth as the words ‘bright’ and ‘platform’ hit you like a train. You playfully pushed her. 

“What? No!” You laughed lightly as you both stopped at a four way stop. 

“Then what do you want?” Robin asked as both of you crossed the street towards the desired destination of the park. 

“Robin, my birthday is a while away don’t worry about it. Besides, you need to save all the money from Family Video for college.” Robin just rolled her eyes. “I’m serious.” You firmly reiterated as your eyes go back to the houses. Robin eyes followed yours and you both stopped in front of this one story white house with black trim. With white open steps that lead you onto to small open porch that sat next to a built out window nook. It was a beautiful house, it wasn’t exactly  too big, but it also wasn’t too small. It looked like a rather cozy house and something about it just captured your attention. 

“I love that house.” Robin said and you turned to her as she gazed at the house. You were quick to look around not seeing anyone in sight as you grabbed her hand and squeezed. 

“Do you?” You asked as you leaned your head on her shoulder careful of your surroundings. Your body on edge as you let go of her hand and remained against her shoulder.

“Something about it, I don’t know, it just seems safe.” You nodded in agreement. 

“Then that’s what I want.” 

“What?” Robin said kind of confused. The house? You wanted the house? 

“The house. I want this house.” Robin laughed, of course you wanted the house. Robin leaned her head against yours and sighed. She loved you, she truly did. 

“Tell you what, if we stay in Hawkins, I’ll buy you the house.” Robin said with a sad smile. Robin knew your plan was to get away, to run as far away from Hawkins as you could, and she couldn’t blame you. After everything you both had been through, not to mention everything that awaited you, away from small town minds was probably for the better. Robin wanted to leave as well, it was just harder. You both had more than just one family now, one that Robin grew more attached to than she originally thought she would. 

“That’s cheating.” You said as you smiled warmly at her. You began to walk your own love struck self away from the girl that was head over heels for you.

“No, not really.” She went to explain as she started to catch up by your side.

••••••••••

It’s been ten years since you’ve last seen Robin. Ten long years. You got married, then divorced. Your mom had gotten sick, then died. You told her of your sexuality before she passed, she didn’t understand, your father didn’t either, but they let it go. Which was better than the other outcomes that so many others faced. It wasn’t right, but it was something you had to accept. 

Your father went not long after your mother, a broken heart, he was always so dependent on her. Hawkins grew even smaller if that was possible, the news of every odd things that had happened here died down quite a bit, causing people to leave. Remaining questions of all those events you went through being shut down with halfwitted answers from the government. You of course couldn’t tell anyone the truth nor did you really want to. Only few would truly believe and the rest would call you crazy. Not to mention the danger that could bring to El. 

Speaking of, El wasn’t in Hawkins nor where the rest of the Hoppers-Byers family. The Wheelers also packed up. Which reminds you that you still have to RSVP to Nancy and Jonthan’s wedding. Lucas, Dustin, and Max all off at college. Lucas and Max still an off and on thing that still managed to entertain you and you looked forward to the nights that they stopped by and would update you on all of there college adventures. 

Steve was the only one that remained in Hawkins with you, in fact he lived with you. In that white house with the black trim. 

You bought the house after your divorce and right before your mother died. Steve practically moved in as soon as you bought the place. He claimed his rent was getting too high, but you knew he was just lonely. Steve had proven himself to be quite the successful salesman earning more than you did at the bank. 

A couple weeks before he moved in his then girlfriend up and left him. Just out of the blue and you had never seen a more heart broken and confused Steve in your life. Your heart really ached for Steve because you knew exactly what that was like. 

Which reminds you that you need to get Lydia to come over so he can finally ask her out. They’ve been fawning over each other like a bunch of high schoolers ever since she moved in. They need to get together and get married so hopefully, maybe, you could have your house back. You loved Steve you really did, but you wanted your house back. Not to mention it was time for him to experience romantic love again. But, baby steps you reminded yourself. Baby steps.

You took a deep breath and crawled out of bed. Waking up from a lazy Sunday afternoon, you didn’t have to work on Sundays due to banking hours, so naps were permanently on your Sunday schedule. You stretched as your feet touched the cold wood floor. You put your hand on your lower back as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was a wreck and your dads oversized shirt came untucked from the pair of shorts you had on. You just rolled your eyes and ran your fingers through your hair brushing it out. You glanced at the clock and it was already about time for dinner. 

“Steve.” You called out as you began to walk out of your room. “Are you going out tonight or do I need to make dinner for two?” You asked as you walked into the kitchen your eyes focused on him sitting in your chair.  

“Uh,…” Steve began as you raised an eyebrow. You looked down at the table to the steam coming from your favorite mug. You heard the guest bathroom toilet flush and the sink began to run. A wicked smirk found your face, that dog. Steve, the hair, Harrington was finally making a move.  

“Steve, who’s here? Did you invite Lydia-?” You were cut off as the guest bathroom door opening and Robin looked you dead in the eyes. Your heart stopped as she looked at you sadly. A crooked smile on her face. Robin looked aged from her time away from Hawkins, still stunningly perfect, but obviously older. She was dressed to the nines in an all black pant suit that made your cheeks flush. She looked incredible and you were standing here in pjs with semi-crazy hair. 

“Dinner for three?” Steve asked breaking the dense silence. You just closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and backed away back into your room. 

Robin flinched when she heard the door slam shut. She didn’t even say hi. She was so relieved to see you and you still looked so beautiful. She looked at the space where you once stood and her gaze quickly found Steve. 

“You didn’t tell her I was coming?” Robin asked sharply. 

“You literally called like thirty minutes ago! I wasn’t going to wake her up and be like ‘hey, wake up, y’know Robin, the girl who ripped your heart into shreds, our former best friend, yeah she’s going to be here in thirty minutes.’, I was not going to do that!” Steve was quick to defend himself and with good reason. Waking you from a nap was an awful idea to begin with.

“Well she would’ve liked the warning, dingus.” Robin said as her hands found her hips. Considering you first was always done, but no matter how Robin tried to plan things with you it always came out a lot different than how she originally wanted it. 

“I was going to give her one, when YOU were at the restaurant waiting on us. That way she could’ve made the decision if she even wanted to see you or not. I was going to give her the option.” Steve retorted crossing his arms. The weight of this situation truly falling into Robin’s shoulders. 

Steve was ecstatic to see Robin, but also furious. She packed up in the middle of the night and left she didn’t call, hell she didn’t even leave a note. She just left. She left him, the kids, and you without even a goodbye. You all mourned her like she was dead. Honestly what were you supposed to do? No one could even get into contact with her. 

Robin sighed and returned to her coffee. She needed to get away. Her parents were down her throat and she let it slip that you and her where more than just “best friends”, they flipped out and Robin ran away. Part of her wanted to talk it through with you, but the other part told her she couldn’t bare the thought of dragging you down with her. I mean who knew how your parents would react, so she just took off. She regretted it and always thought about calling, but never did. She thought about calling everyone, because she hurt everyone. Not just you. 

“I am sorry, Steve. I am sorry I took off without a word. I should have talked with you, at least.” Steve’s expression softened and he approached Robin slowly. His gaze softened as he pulled Robin into his embrace. 

“You dingus.” Steve said as Robin’s body tensed from the sudden embrace. She was soon to relax and wrap her arms around Steve.

“I know, in this case I am.” Steve's eyes started to water as he pulled away. 

“Alright.” He said sniffling and hitting Robin on the shoulder. “Alright.” He repeated a little stronger. “I’ll try and get (Y/N) out-.” 

“No. Let me try.” Robin quickly cut him off and headed towards the room she saw you run into. She put her ear against the door overhearing your sobs. Guilt coursed through Robin’s veins as she turned the door knob. It was surprisingly not locked. As she opened the door she caught a glimpse of you standing with your head in your hands.

“Get out!” You screamed furiously as you threw a pillow at Robin. As the pillow hit her square in the face, you cursed that you didn’t skip the nap today and put working locks on your doors. “Don’t you knock?” You questioned as you went to grab another pillow. 

“Hey, hey, listen to me.” Robin began ready to catch the pillow. Robin has only seen you act like this once. You went mental after a run in with a demogorgon and it was the second saddest thing Robin had ever seen, this was the first. She caused you to lose it, it was her fault, and that tore her apart. 

Robin approached you slowly as you held that pillow like a shield. You didn’t want her anywhere near you, but at the same time you were so relieved she was here. That the nightmares that plagued you about her weren’t a reality. Robin started to get on the bed and shook as she walked on it. The tears wouldn’t stop and you most definitely couldn’t make them. Your vision was blurry as you looked up at her. 

“What do you want?” You said coldly as she jumped onto the ground. 

“A welcome hug, dork. What else?” She said and the cold facade vanished quickly as you slammed yourself into her arms. You needed her, you hated to admit it, but you needed her. 

Robin arms wrapped tightly around you as she buried her face into your hair. The familiar perfumed scented shampoo welcoming her home. Robin began to sob, she missed you so much. The fact that you stayed here threw her into confusion but she was thankful that you were here. 

“I h-hate you.” You stuttered out through sobs. 

“I know.” Robin said with a chuckle as she fell back onto the bed. As you both landed on the bed you both laughed. It was an odd laugh, it didn’t make any sense, but what made sense about any of this. Absolutely nothing, none of this made sense. Robin didn’t deserve your embrace and she knew that, but here you both laid. Wrapped up in each others arms, soaking up each moment like it was the last time you were ever going to be together. 

You both started to calm down as her soft hand cupped your face. It wasn’t her place to touch you like this. To try and hold you like nothing ever changed, but she couldn’t help herself. You didn’t stop her either, you can't bring yourself to do it. You waited so long for this. Ten years too long did you wait for this. Your rage would have to wait, because right now you needed this. You needed her. You craved her. 

You brought your lips to hers and the fireworks you felt when you first kissed returned full force. Robin melted into you as you deepened the kiss. 

In that moment Robin knew it was going to be okay, that you would be okay, but she still needed to apologize. She needed to tell you the truth, no matter how hard it was getting to pry herself away from you. As the kisses grew messier and more needy between you two the guilt began to submerge Robin. 

“(Y/N).” Robin cooed as she pulled away from you. A whine escaped your lips as you looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry.” Robin said you pushed yourself away from her and took a deep breath. Most of you wished she didn’t say anything that way you could just have her again, but in retrospect that was a bad idea.

“I know.” You mumbled as you sat up. Robin’s face fell, that was the answer she expected, she didn’t want that answer but it was the one she got. 

“I ran away and I shouldn’t have. I was just scared and I regret not talking to you first. My parents found out I was gay and flipped out and I couldn’t bring you down with me.” You took a deep breath and wiped your eyes. Of course they found out. 

“It’s okay, I don’t forgive you, but it’s okay. I understand.” You said standing up and heading towards the bedroom door. You understood that fear and it took everything to not run away from your mother's death bed.

“You can stay as long as you want-.” You began, this emotional hurricane becoming too much. 

“I never stopped loving you.” The words falling from Robin’s lips as she cut you off. It was the whole truth and nothing but the truth. “I still love you.” You began to rub your temples. “I’m serious, I love you.” She replied very anxiously awaiting a reply. You had to still love her, right? 

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way. I mean after what I did. I don’t deserve you, I really don’t. I never have-.” You just laughed, hoping that Robin would let herself breath a little. You still loved her, you never stopped. 

“Of course I still love you. Why do you think I bought this stupid house?” You laughed and Robin’s body carried you to her before she could really think to do so. She pulled you into a tight embrace, you still loved her and that’s all that mattered to her. 

Things weren’t fixed completely between you and Robin, but it was a start.

[wellknownwolf]

Ninety Minutes in a Float Tank

Yesterday I went to a float spa.  My sister gave me a 90-minute float for my birthday back in October, and it only took me two and half months to find a way (time off, a sitter, the gumption to do something nice for myself) to get there.  Here’s my experience, for my future self’s reference when the noise starts creeping back in. 

I made the thirty minute drive listening to the opening chapters of Girl, Wash Your Face (I know—it’s so popular that it risks becoming a cliché, but one of my most treasured friends loved it and shared her Audible copy with me, so I’m diving in).   I walked in fifteen minutes early as recommended by the website (“to give yourself time to check in and transition into the space”), and I was greeted by a wide open waiting area and bright-eyed Montel, who walked his bare feet right up to me and shook my hand.  He welcomed me, asked me to remove my shoes (and leave them by the front door, under his supervision, I hoped), and then invited me to sit anywhere that was comfortable.   There were too many options (couches, wooden chairs, loveseats, benches), so I went with the nearest sofa and sat, open to the experience but still resisting actually letting myself be comfortable.  I sat on the edge of the cushion, legs crossed, leaning into the armrest, fully aware of my body language despite the nice conversation I then had about writing and music with the Montel (he has a BA in vocal music).  I did what was familiar: walked the edge of a conversation that could have felt good, but kept my follow-up questions and anecdotes to myself because, after all, we weren’t going to spend much more time together, and it’s not like we were going to see each other again in any kind of social context, so… At least this time I learned from how awkward this made me feel.  Surrounded by incense and all the signs of holistic healing at work, where is there a BETTER place to leap into a conversation about our passions?  Why hold back?  Why not spark those fires at every chance we have?  What the hell was I doing? 

After waiting for someone else to arrive (who, as far as I know, never did), we went back to the rooms and I got the tour, the tutorial of how to do this, where to look for reminder instructions, where to hang my towel should I get salt water on my face, the button to push if I want the light back on, the button to push that does absolutely nothing, despite the music note decal above it.  

Before he left me to it, he shook his head with a big smile (not that it ever really left his face) and shrugged and said, “I’m so excited that you’re a writer,” because THAT was what he clung to: I’m a teacher, sure—that’s how I make money, and I love it.  But what he saw was a writer.  Artists recognizing artists.  Awesome.

I showered, dried my face as told, opened the sealed door, stepped into the room (it was a room, not a pod, though he showed me what those look like, too), laughed to myself at how slick the floor was and the fact that I hadn’t anticipated that, latched the door completely, and lowered into the water.  

I pushed the only working button, and the teal light gently faded away as zen-inducing music came in.  

For a long time, I had pictured myself in this setting: closed eyes (like it mattered in the pitch blackness), neck and shoulders finally straight and relaxed, arms drifting a few inches from my hips as I found my center, or peace, or nirvana, or whatever it was that I was supposed to find when my physical senses were finally given a chance to rest.  Instead, I spent the first I-want-to-say half of the experience with my arms up over my head (because that’s where they kept drifting, forcing me to finally understand where the “Dead Man’s Float” got its name), bending in different angles at the waist because I suddenly felt so flexible and free, and since I couldn’t see anything, hell, maybe I WAS a contortionist all of a sudden!  Montel had told me that at the end of the session, the light would come back on and some piano music would come in, and at that point, I should just let loose and play: bounce off the walls, try to float on my stomach, swim around and be silly.  

Faced with the darkness and impending silence (the music was going to fade out eventually), I instead told myself that my spirit is too playful to lie still like I was supposed to, and I gave myself permission to move however I wanted, instead of berating myself for wasting this opportunity on movement.  

The music died away, and in the silence I could hear my breath extra loudly, thanks not only to the water, but to the earplugs I wore to protect me from it.  I felt like I couldn’t get my neck to relax, so I tried the floating headrest.  It was fine for a while, and I started to grow still, but it threatened to give me a headache once my head started to feel heavy for some reason, so I reached for the wall (there it is. No, that’s the door.  That means it’s to the right.  Here we go. The hook was above the light. There’s the light.  No, that’s a filter jet.  There’s the light.  That means the hook is…how far…?) and hung up the headrest only to have it fall and splash a drop of salt water on my face.  Part of me knew immediately that this droplet would not bother me.  I’d practiced enough mindfulness meditation that I could just let it go, but a louder, more controlling part of me said, “This is part of the experience!  You have to use the spray bottle and the towel he recommended hanging near the door to wipe your face so you aren’t distracted by the itch of drying water!”  So I did.  I also pushed the music note button, and sure enough, it didn’t do anything.

Looking back, I think it was at this point that my maternal self looked at me lovingly and sternly, with “Alright.  That’s enough,” on her face, and I finally felt like I was ready to stop doing the float and just be floating.  

It grew quieter in my head, all the gnat-like thoughts flitting and staying away for longer and longer, and in this new, different silence, I surprised my future self. I said (in my head), “Alright, god. Here I am.”

You probably don’t know me too well (so it surprises me that you’d have read this far), but I am not a religious person.  And this isn’t a religious piece, at least not as I understand it.  I was not taught to foster any kind of relationship with a god, and I never really spoke to one growing up unless I wanted something.  I was great at bargaining with a hazy, distant god vaguely introduced to me by my born-again Pentecostal grandma, and sometimes I let myself be comforted by the notion that someone might be looking out for me, but for my adult life, the idea of g/God has been like kombucha for me: I know it does some people real good, but I just can’t make myself like it.  I don’t mind if you enjoy it; I’m going to say, “No, thanks.”

I also said, back-to-back with my announcement to that god, “Enlightenment, or whatever you are, I’m here.”  This is less surprising, because I know myself well enough that while I don’t dismiss most things New Age or holistic, when faced with the opportunity for enlightenment, I’m so tired and tense and perpetually drained lately that I would approach it with glibness, that I would look it in the face and say, “Well???”

I’d love to say that I then had some kind of vision or realization, that some fog had lifted for me and everything felt clear and right again.  Some people hallucinate; I did not, aside from thinking that I was seeing light come in through the door when I definitely wasn’t (the door wasn’t where I thought it was when I made that trip for the towel).  I may have fallen asleep, or started to, more than once because I felt myself come back to my body (this is the only way I know how to describe the feeling of waking up when opening my eyes was no different than closing them) without realizing I’d lost awareness of the water around me.  No god spoke to me in any voice, my own included, but when I used my last conscious thought to announce that I was ready to listen, I did finally go still.  I did finally just exist without exertion and breathe without listening to my own breath. For ninety minutes, I unplugged from everything I could, and got as close as I’ve ever been to some intangible, indescribable peace.  My nose started to grow a little stuffy, I breathed too shallowly and had to take some catch-up breaths here and there, my joints popped and cracked as I shifted here and there and it was loud in the water, and all of that was no longer worth thinking about.  It was all genuinely okay, and that was enough to put me in a daze.

The room lit up soft blue again, and I had no concept of how long I was in my two states.  I am hopeful that I was quiet longer than I was restless, but it doesn’t matter.  I tasted the stillness and confirmed that even in me, in ever-reaching, ever-worried, ever-wanting me, it’s there. The promised piano music was instantly familiar: a softer version of The Pixies’ “Where is My Mind?” The choice made me smile—my husband introduced me to this song when we started dating eleven years ago, and I’ve never stopped loving it.  And you’d better believe I took Montel’s direction.  I pushed off the walls and glided across the water, bouncing here and there, waking up my limbs in the most fun way I could imagine until the song ended and I was left in the light.  

I smiled as I carefully pulled myself up and pushed open the door.  I smiled as I took my second shower, washing away all the salt water that threatened to really dry me out in the middle of winter. I smiled as I toweled off, put my clothes back on, took a deliberate last look around the little room, and stepped out into the hallway.  

I smiled when Montel found me in the quiet nook filled with cushions on the floor, mixed and matched blankets and a salt lamp decorating the small, cozy space intended to ease me back into the world.  He offered me water, and I smiled when I took it from him.

Had I not had a sitter waiting on my  return and a chiropractor appointment set later than afternoon (read: a life to return to), I don’t know how long I’d have stayed there.  When I first passed it, I didn’t think I’d use that room at all. But when I sat there on the floor drinking that water, I could still feel traces of the stillness sitting below the light headache that was setting in—a happiness hangover—and I wanted to live there.  

I don’t live there, though, so I walked out into the bright front space, hair still damp and messily finger-combed, face bare and relaxed as I found my shoes where I left them by the door.  I sat where Montel had in the beginning and made myself comfortable while I put them on, and he took my earlier seat and said a little bit more about how he loves the experience, throwing in a few lines about a membership that on another day might have irked me.  I didn’t mind.  We thanked each other, we said our goodbyes, and I stepped out into the wind to make my way back to the car.  I conformed to my seat a little more than usual on the drive back, and when someone almost clipped me on the highway, I let it go a little more quickly than usual. (Still, later that night, when someone ran a stop sign on my street, I honked at them and then flashed my brights at them, so you win some, you lose some).

I don’t know exactly what my takeaway is or why I’m always so determined to have one. Maybe it’s the writing teacher in me always trying to find a moral for my stories.  What I’m settling on is this: my muscles stiffened up later in the afternoon and an old ache in my hip was not permanently cured.  I woke up a little tense this morning, and I’ve yelled once or twice already.  I am not a changed woman.  But I did open myself to an experience that is not altogether unfrightening.  To be alone for ninety minutes without the anchors of sight, sound, or sensation could have pushed me into an anxiety spiral, it could have made me sad, it could have convinced me that  I am hopelessly tired and destined to be so forever.  But it didn’t.  I let my flighty, easily-distracted self play, and when she got all of her bullshit out of the system, what was left was the being that I’d deeply hoped was still in there somewhere: a part that did not need to examine or process, a part that could be not just comfortable but openly happy with the most permanent thing to which she is bound: herself.

[dragonydreams]

The Reading Perch - Captain Canary

Title: The Reading Perch Fandom: DC's Legends of Tomorrow Rating: Teen Pairings/Characters: Sara Lance/Leonard Snart Summary: Bookstore AU. Sparks fly when literary agent Leonard finally meets bookstore owner Sara for the first time. Timeline: n/a Word Count: 3,422 Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Berlanti Productions, DC Entertainment, and Warner Bros. Television. Betas: Thank you to angelskuuipo and shanachie for looking this over for me. Author's Note: Happy Birthday @stillthewordgirl!

Or read at AO3

  Leonard sighed as he drove past the "Welcome to Starling City" sign.

It wasn't that this was his least favorite place to be, but after being on the road for nearly a month, he'd give just about anything for that sign to say Central City instead.

"Lucky twenty-one," Mick said from the passenger seat.

Leonard smirked at his oldest friend and client. "You say that about every new town we go to."

"And so far, they've all been lucky," Mick said. "We've sold out at almost every book signing on this tour. Don't want to jinx us now by not calling a new city lucky."

"I'll give you that," Leonard conceded.

Sometimes he couldn't believe how lucky they'd been - and how much the tables had turned for them.

Leonard and Mick had met as kids in juvie. Mick had saved his life when a group of older boys had gone after the scrawny newbie. They'd been close ever since.

They had made a good life for themselves as criminals. Leonard was the brains and Mick was the brawn. They kept each other balanced.

What Mick had never told Leonard, was that he enjoyed writing science fiction.

Leonard knew that Mick enjoyed reading the genre - they both did - but it's quite the leap from reading to writing.

Not until one day when Mick almost shyly approached Leonard to say that he wanted out of the life. He'd written a book and it was going to be published.

Once he'd gotten over his shock, Leonard had insisted on seeing the contract to make sure that his friend wasn't getting screwed over. Then he asked to read the book.

And just like that, Leonard became Mick's agent and assistant, fully supporting this turn in their lives.

Now they were on stop twenty-one of a very successful book signing tour. Independent bookstores only, per Mick's insistence.

They checked into their hotel and, feeling a bit restless after being in the car for so long, Leonard decided to go check out the bookstore the event would be held at the next day.

The Reading Perch was an eclectic blend of cozy bookstore and pop culture mecca. While they had good sized sections for all of the genres you'd expect to see in a small bookstore, there was also an impressive graphic novel section of the store.

Interspersed with the books were displays of literary tee-shirts, bags, pillows, figurines, and even those oddly popular Funko Pop dolls.

Leonard wandered around until he found himself in front of a large display of Mick's book. He picked one up and opened to the back cover to read Mick's bio. It was as much a work of fiction as the rest of what he was holding, but thanks to a hacker he knew, no one would know about their criminal pasts.

He stood there long enough for a pretty blonde young woman to approach him.

"If you're interested in that book, the author's actually going to be here for a signing tomorrow," she said, gesturing to the poster with Mick's face on it beside the display.

Leonard looked up at her, smirk in place. He noticed her name tag and asked, "Are you Sara Lance?"

The woman looked surprised, then a little wary. "How did you know my last name?"

Leonard gestured to her name tag that bore her name and Manager beneath it before holding out his hand to her.

"I should probably introduce myself. Leonard Snart. I'm Mick Rory's agent."

Recognition filled Sara's eyes and she immediately shook his hand. "Of course! I should have recognized your voice from our calls. I wasn't expecting to see you until tomorrow."

"We made good time getting into town so I decided to check out the venue. I hope you don't mind."

"Not all. I can give you the two cent tour now, if you'd like," Sara offered.

Leonard carefully set down the book he'd been holding. "I'd like that very much, thank you."

For once, Leonard wasn't just putting on the act he usually had to perform when meeting the store managers at these events. He and Sara had spoken frequently over the past several months while he had been scheduling the tour. They'd had an immediate repartee from their first call and he always enjoyed checking in with her.

She was much younger than he'd imagined. He knew he was stereotyping her based on her appearance, but she gave the aura of someone who would prefer to be hiking through mountains or white water rafting rather than a person who enjoyed spending their days indoors with books.

"And this is where Mick will be," Sara said, pulling Leonard out of his thoughts.

She had led him to a nook about halfway through the store. There was a small desk with a comfortable leather desk chair for the author, and a couple of smaller desk chairs pushed against the wall, presumably for the author's entourage.

Leonard walked behind the desk and experimentally pulled on one of the drawers. Sara pulled a set of keys from a pocket and opened first that one and then the others. Inside were different colored Sharpies as well as some granola bars and gum.

"Gotta keep them locked or else the contents would keep disappearing. Learned that lesson the hard way," Sara apologized, locking the drawers again once Leonard's curiosity was satisfied.

"I like that you're so well prepared," Leonard said.

"We try to host a lot of these events to engage readers with the authors. We've learned that being prepared always comes in handy."

"As the person who would be running around to find this stuff, it is much appreciated," Leonard said.

At that moment, Leonard's stomach gave a loud rumble, reminding him that it had been a long time since they had stopped for lunch.

"Have you had dinner yet, Sara?" he asked. "Perhaps we could continue discussing the plans for tomorrow over a meal?"

Sara bit her bottom lip and glanced towards the front of the store. "I'm supposed to help with closing and get everything set up for tomorrow after that."

"What time do you close?" Leonard pressed.

"Nine o'clock," Sara said.

Leonard glanced at his watch. "It's only seven now. How is the pizza place that I passed on my way here? That should give us plenty of time to eat and have you back in time to close."

Sara whimpered. Actually whimpered. "You had to go tempting me with the best pizza in Starling," she groaned, dropping her forehead onto his chest.

"Is that a yes?" Leonard asked, knowing he'd won.

"That's a yes," Sara agreed. "Let me tell Nate that I'm leaving."

Leonard slowly walked to the front of the store, allowing himself to be distracted by the various displays on his way. Sara was waiting for him when he got there, a grin on her face.

"Enjoy what you see?" she asked, teasingly.

Leonard ran his eyes over her body and smirked. "Very much."

Sara's cheeks flushed and she quickly turned away to open the door and hurry out.

Leonard caught up to her easily. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"You didn't, not really," Sara said. "I guess I kind of deserved it. You didn't see me giving you pretty much the same look before I approached you. I wasn't expecting you to be so--"

"Old? Tall?" Leonard guessed.

"Ruggedly handsome," Sara finished.

It didn't take them long to reach the pizza place. After ordering at the counter, they found a booth and settled in to wait.

"I don't want to offend you, but I've gotta ask," Leonard started, earning him a raised eyebrow from Sara. "How did you end up working at a bookstore? You don't seem the type, and I've met a lot of bookstore managers over the past month."

Sara laughed and settled against the back of her seat. "I get that a lot. I guess you could say that it's in my genes. The bookstore was my grandmother's. When I was little, my mom used to drop me off there to hang out instead of getting a babysitter. The books were my babysitters. I found myself studying literature in school and after bumming around Europe for a while after graduation, I found myself back at the Perch. With all of Europe at my disposal, I kept finding myself in bookstores so I figured that I may as well as go home to mine."

"It's yours?" Leonard asked, surprised. Her name tag said Manager, not Owner.

"Yeah," Sara confirmed. "My grandma left it to me in her will."

"I'm sorry," Leonard said, automatically.

"I'm not," Sara said. "I mean, I'm sorry that she's gone, of course. I miss her every day; but being in that store is like having her there with me every day, too. I always expect to find her around the next bookshelf or coming out of the stockroom."

"So I should complement her on the fantastic wordplay in the store's name?" Leonard asked.

Sara's face lit up. "You get that? Most people don't. I wouldn't have pegged you for an ornithologist."

"I read the encyclopedia a lot as a child," Leonard said. No need for her to know that it was in juvie. The reading selection hadn't been all that bountiful, but there was a full encyclopedia set that someone had donated. "Starlings are perching birds."

"Guess we're both full of surprises," Sara said.

"It appears so," he agreed. He raised his bottle of water in a toast, "To many more happy surprises."

Sara tapped her bottle against his. "I certainly hope so."

Their pizza arrived and they hungrily dug in, barely talking as they devoured their first slices.

"So how did you become a literary agent?" Sara asked, once they'd satisfied their initial hunger. "I tried looking you up online, but you're practically a ghost."

"I like my privacy," Leonard said.

This was something that Hartley had warned him about. He'd asked if Leonard wanted him to create new pasts for him and Mick after wiping their records, but Leonard had said no. He didn't want to have to remember some fake history. He'd always been able to BS his way out of situations when people started asking personal questions and assumed he could do the same now. It wasn't like he usually got chatty on these stops. Usually.

"There's privacy and there's living in the dark ages," Sara said. "No Facebook, no Twitter, no LinkedIn, even."

"Cyberstalk much?" Leonard teased.

"I may have gotten a little curious after our fifth call," Sara admitted, picking at the cheese on the half-eaten slice of pizza on her plate. "I don't usually click so well with someone just on the phone."

Reluctantly, Leonard admitted, "I do have a Twitter account so that I can follow what people are saying about Mick's book. It's just not under my name."

"Is he why you became an agent?" Sara asked.

"He is," Leonard acknowledged. "We've been friends for almost as long as I can remember. He had my back growing up and since I have a better head for business, when he got a publishing contract, I became his agent. It's my turn to watch his back, now."

"Aww, that's so sweet," Sara said.

"I'm not sweet," Leonard insisted, scowling.

"You keep telling yourself that, but I now know better," Sara said, grinning.

"Don't you have a bookstore to get back to?" Leonard said, grumpily.

Glancing at her phone, Sara's eyes widened. "Shit, yes I do."

She took several bites of her pizza, polishing off the slice on her plate in seconds, causing Leonard to stare in awe. She certainly could pack it away for such a tiny woman.

"I was only joking," he finally said.

"I wasn't," Sara said, while chewing. "It's after 8:30. I really need to get back to the store."

"I hadn't realized it was getting so late," Leonard said.

"Time flies, and all that," Sara agreed, wiping her mouth and hands on several paper napkins before standing. "Walk me back?"

"It would be my pleasure," Leonard said, standing.

Leonard would have liked to have walked slowly back to the store, to extend their time together, but Sara kept a brisk pace. She was on the clock, after all.

"Are you coming in?" Sara asked, when they reached the door.

"I should probably go check on Mick," Leonard said.

The wind was blowing a lock of hair across Sara's face, and he slowly reached out to brush it off her forehead and behind her ear. The brief touch was electric and he had to force himself to step away from her.

"I'll see you in the morning," he said. "Have a good night, Sara."

"G'night, Leonard," Sara said, hurrying into the store.

He could hear her apologizing for being late, and the teasing tone of her co-worker in response.

The next day couldn't come soon enough.

~~*~~

Leonard's alarm woke him the next morning from tantalizing dreams of a certain blonde bookstore owner.

If he found himself shaving a bit more closely today, he told himself it had nothing to do with the beautiful woman he'd be seeing very soon.

Looking through his suitcase, he chose a blue dress shirt to wear with his black jeans. A gray sport coat finished off the look. He knew that Mick would be similarly dressed in blue jeans and a white dress shirt. Some variation of these outfits had become their costumes for these events.

"How's the space?" Mick asked as they settled at their table after having visited the breakfast buffet.

"It's eclectic," Leonard said. "I like it."

"This is the one with the girl you like, right?" Mick asked, causing Leonard to choke on the bite he'd just taken.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Leonard said, coughing.

"Sure you don't," Mick said, dryly. "Because you always choke when I talk about girls."

"How'd you even know about her?" Leonard asked.

Mick rolled his eyes. "Because every time you talked or got a text from her, you'd get this silly expression on your face. It doesn't take a genius to see that you're smitten."

"Since when have you used words like 'smitten'?" Leonard deflected.

"Since I became a successful, published author," Mick retorted. "She that hot?"

"Yes," Leonard reluctantly admitted, "but it's more than just her looks. I really like her."

"Mazel Tov," Mick said, taking a bite of bacon. After several bites he noticed the pained look on Leonard's face. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong is that she owns a bookstore in Starling City and we live in Central City; when we're not traveling for book signings," Leonard said.

Mick waved him off. "Who said we have to live in Central? More specifically, who said you have to live in Central?"

"Because Central City is our home," Leonard said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "My sister's in Central."

"Lisa travels for work almost as much as we do," Mick objected. "I don't see why we can't work from here instead of Central."

"You want to move to Starling City so that I can date a girl that you haven't even met yet?" Leonard asked, dumbfounded.

"It's not like we have office jobs or anything," Mick said with a shrug. "If you like the girl, I can support that. It's what we do. You'd do the same for me."

Leonard nodded absently. He would drop everything for Mick if he asked him to. And he wasn't even asking; Mick was offering.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Leonard said. "Sara and I haven't even been on a date."

"Didn't you have dinner last night? I'd call that a date," Mick commented.

"How did you even know that?" Leonard asked.

"You're wearing the blue shirt. The one that matches your eyes," Mick pointed out.

"What does the color of my shirt have to do with anything?" Leonard asked, taking a vicious bite of his toast.

"That's the shirt you wear when you want to impress someone," Mick said.

Leonard threw up his hands, knowing there was no way he was going to win this argument, and finished his breakfast in sullen silence. Much to Mick's amusement.

~~*~~

The signing event went off brilliantly. There was already a long line of people when they arrived at the store and Sara was there to greet them.

Mick gave Leonard a wink as he noticed how closely Sara stayed to Leonard's side; her hands fluttering around her as if she wanted to reach out and touch him, and then would have to force herself not to.

Leonard wasn't much better. Seeing Sara again had him wanting to pull her against his side and wrap an arm around her waist to hold her close. It was strange for him to crave casual, physical touch so strongly.

Sara helped Leonard keep Mick fed and hydrated, insisting on breaks once an hour for him to rest his hand.

As the event wrapped up, Mick announced that he was going back to the hotel to rest.

"Need to go soak my hand in some ice," he said, by way of explanation.

"Thanks again for choosing the Perch for your stop in Starling," Sara said, shaking his hand.

"It's been our pleasure," Mick said. "I hope to see you again soon."

"Me, too," Sara agreed, her eyes straying to Leonard.

"I'm going to stick around here and help Sara clean all this up," Leonard said, his eyes never leaving Sara.

Mick huffed out a laugh. "You got it, boss. Remember what I said."

"Go ice yourself," Leonard retorted.

After Mick left, Sara asked, "What was that about?"

"Nothing. We'd been talking about how nice it was to spend time together in person, you and me. And what the future could hold."

Sara nearly dropped the pens she'd been putting away. "Even though we live in different cities?"

"What if we didn't have to?" Leonard hesitantly asked.

Sara's face scrunched up in confusion. "But we do. You live in Central and I live here."

"What if I didn't live in Central?" Leonard pressed. "What if I lived here?"

"I can't ask you to move here for me," Sara objected. "We haven't even been on a real date!"

"That's what I told Mick when he suggested that we move here," Leonard said. "You don't want some guy you barely know to descend on your life, no matter how fun the flirtation is."

Sara reached out to grab Leonard's hand as he turned his back to her. "No, that's not it at all. Talking to you is always the highlight of my day. Meeting you yesterday was one of the best days of my life."

"Mine, too," Leonard admitted, entwining his fingers with Sara's. "So, if I stayed, you'd want to see where this flirtation can go?"

"What about the book tour?" Sara asked. "How do I know you don't have some shop owner waiting to fall madly in love with you in every city?"

"Are you saying that you've fallen madly in love with me?" Leonard teased.

"I would have to be mad to have fallen in love so quickly, wouldn't I?" Sara responded.

Leonard's breath caught. "I-- I--"

"Looks like I've rendered you speechless," Sara said, smirking.

Leonard could only nod, not wanting to ruin what was happening by putting his foot in his mouth.

"Bet I know a better way," Sara said, stepping closer to him. She rose on her toes and reaching up with her free hand, drew his face down to meet her lips.

The kiss was as perfect as Leonard could have hoped for. Kissing Sara felt like coming home.

Sara released his hand and wrapped both arms around his neck, pressing her body against his as the kiss deepened. Leonard held her against him, one hand around her waist as the other slid into her hair.

It was the catcalls from Sara's employees that finally broke them apart.

"I'll take that as a yes," Leonard said, playing with the ends of her hair.

"Yes," Sara said against his lips, drawing him into another lingering kiss.

Mick was going to spend the rest of the tour gloating about this; but as Sara snaked her tongue into his mouth, Leonard found that he didn't care. To have Sara in his arms like this would be worth all the teasing he was going to get from Mick.

He couldn't wait.

 The End

[jinjikook]

Roadside Dreams (M)

word count: 4.8k

genre: the fluffiest fluff i could manage + smut ; tv host! hoseok + hoseok can build stuff idk what the title it would be

pairing: reader/wonho

summary: hoseok is a host for a show that renovates old school buses into dream vans/rvs. you’ve brought him a project and over time, you’ve developed a crush for the charismatic man, wanting to take him along for the long ride you’ve dreamt up; as does he, you come to learn.

dedicated to: my wife @honeyheonie bc she deserves some tooth-rotting wonho fluff. also one word to you mi amor: diddle

a/n: this is based off an actual tv show that i literally saw half of an episode of with my mom and i instantly thought of this prompt and just had to write it

music: all of seventeen’s love & letter album 

masterlist

gif credit

“So, what do you think?” You stepped up the pastel stairs, painted to tailor your style perfectly, and your jaw dropped in awe at what you were faced with.

The interior was amazing, gorgeous even. You had only disclosed a minimal amount of details and even more less when it came to specifics. You weren’t sure what you wanted when you came to Shin Hoseok with an old school bus and a good half-hundred grand of money to throw towards it. But this? This exceeded all of your expectations; dreams of living out on the open road with nothing to tie you down or hold you back finally come to life in a divine mix of lavender and grays.

“How did you—? I mean, you just— This is amazing!” You were partially speechless by just how mesmerizingly you the entire bus was, now a ghost of its former shell. The outside was a cream based white, the only thing pointing to its old form being the shape itself. But everything else screamed home, in the way the pull out couch was neatly decorated up front and the windows were now garnished with flowers and the dash was devoid of all clunky buttons and switches, now a smooth birch counter with a glossy finish.

It was something straight out of television; from the boards of Pinterest and famous Instagram user feeds. Something that couldn’t be bought or ordered from a hippie-esque catalogue, divine in every way, shape and form and yet it was completely tailored to you and everything you needed in a house on wheels.

Hoseok took you by the hand and led you further in, ignoring the camera crew behind him that was documenting the details of the bus and the shocked expressions you kept replaying on your face.

“Now, I know you said comfort is your biggest caveat, so I went ahead and gave you this gorgeous couch that doubles as an extra bed,” Hoseok reached under the cushions to release the switch that allowed the seat to slide out and flatten into a queen sized mattress, right there in the very front of your home. You clapped and praised his choice, loving the idea of having an extra bed should you have guests or if you just wanted to sleep up front for a change.

Hoseok beamed at your reaction, elated that his personal choices reflected well. He liked to think you and he were very similar, in both tastes and ideas. It made for a relatively easy job, as sometimes he has trouble getting into the mindset of a customer to truly give them what they want but also able to branch out and test his own creativity in the process. With you, he just thought about what he’d like if he were to live in one of these, travelling the country with someone wonderful by his side to share the sights with him.

Someone like you.

Call it unprofessional, but he had a slight crush on you.

(read: a big fat “I-can-see-myself-growing-old-happily-with-you” crush)

When you came to him with this clunker of a bus and told him you weren’t sure what you wanted but you loved the simple and cozy life he fell head over heels for you, the way you cutely stood with your hands fisted in your patterned dress and how your eyes gleamed with brimming potential.

“This here, is for the ultimate cooking experience.” You watched as Hoseok pointed out the finer details, from the real marble countertop to the station above the mini-fridge that was made specifically for a coffeemaker.

“Hoseok, this is incredible! I didn’t even tell you I liked a big kitchen, I just figured it was impossible in a space like this…”

“Honey, nothing is impossible if you think big enough! I figured you were one of those women that loves to cook with someone and that requires room to not only dance around each other but also to get close and snuggly as one of you works on the eggs or something.” He got a little lost in his fantasy, imagining it was him who was in front of the stove top, working on getting the bacon just right or the eggs less runny when you come up behind him to wrap your arms around his middle and kiss the top of his bare shoulder, possibly after lazily making love in the early morning sunlight that beamed past your silken curtains.

“Well I love it, this entire place feels like a dream come true,” You trailed off, gazing lovingly all over the remainder of the bus as Hoseok guided you through all the nooks and crannies he thought up.

“And now, for the coup de gras, what I think you’ll love the most,” His hand was still cradling your own, not even caring about how he doesn’t do that with any other customer and how viewers of the show would most likely notice it later on. He walks you up the small step/storage space and you’re faced with what you wished upon every shooting star you’ve ever seen—a solid 2.5; one was an airplane and another had been only slightly falling.

“The bedroom. Fit for a queen, perfect for you.” He warmly smiled as you stood at the entrance, frozen in a stupor of amazement. The shelves were lining the walls so prettily, some even had vases or statues already on them, as if Hoseok had jumped into your mind himself and snatched all of your greatest desires and threw them all into one room.

You hoped he hadn’t seen the section in your brain that you have locked away, with a sign that states for my eyes only. In there are all the details you’ve catalogued about the handsome man beside you; the times he’d brushed his hand against you or taken yours into his own, all the flirty advances you’re sure couldn’t be true but the way he’d wink or smile right after would beg to differ.

“Go on, get a feel for the room.” Hoseok’s warm palm touched the small of your back and gave you a little nudge, urging you to step further inside and do a little exploring, find the small intricacies that Hoseok painstakingly took months to put in, one by one.

With caution, you tread over to the wardrobe he’d built into the wall, a sliding mirror door away from a surprisingly deep closet. He explained how it’d been made a little taller just to make sure your dresses wouldn’t touch the floor when they dangled from the hanger and how there was a nice little set of hooks against the wall for belts, hats and anything else your heart desired.

At this point, your heart was already Grinch-style “three-sizes-too-big” and you were swollen with admiration for Hoseok and his ability to nail everything about his job.

(You also hoped he’d nail something else but that was neither here nor there.)

As he described the painstaking process he’d gone through to custom make your curtain rods and went shopping at several locations to find the perfect knick-knacks to decorate your home, you couldn’t help the heart eyes that you’re sure the camera crew was eating up at this point. This man knew you more than anyone else you’d ever met and he’d only been commissioned a short while ago, having only been told of the basics of your life.

With only the knowledge of your job, the little things you enjoyed in life and your budget, this man was able to leap into your heart and build you a dream home only to leave with a piece of it in his pocket, forever his as long as you stayed in the abode he built for you with his bare hands.

“Now, how about giving that bed a try?” He gave you his signature eyebrow wiggle and that sinful tongue of his darted out to lick his lips and you had half a mind to drag him on the bed with you and give him a taste of his own medicine—or your tongue, same difference.

You nodded and meekly placed your knee on the bed, using your palm to feel the firmness of the mattress and the stability of the wood it was mounted onto. As you awkwardly tried to “test” the bed, Hoseok huffed behind you and chuckled before placing his hands on your hips from behind.

“You really have to give this thing a test ride, love.”

“I’ve been trying to,” You muttered under your breath, hoping he wouldn’t hear the little slip of your tongue.

Another chuckle and Hoseok is leading you onto the bed, taking the time to settle next to you almost domestically.

“Nice huh? I made sure to pick out a bed that’d suit you perfectly! And look,” He reached over your laying frame to tug at the curtains that were right by your bed side. “A beautiful view of outside; ideal if you’re staying by the beach or on the mountainside. Imagine waking up to such a sight…”

You weren’t looking out the window when he said that, only able to focus on his chiseled body still hovering over yours as he gazed dreamily out the window into the open field he’d parked the bus in to do the big reveal. The view, as far as you were concerned, was him.

“Tell me, are you satisfied with everything?” His pearl white teeth basically reflected the sunlight into your eyes and you swore you were squinting at him as you spoke.

“And so much more…” You couldn’t help but look down at his peachy lips; you blame his damned bright smile, making you deflect your eyes elsewhere and giving him ideas.

Hoseok shifted on the bed, his eyes no longer as clear as the skies outside as an inky darkness swirled inside them—at first you figured it was just a trick of the light, a trick your mind was playing on you.

“Okay guys, did you get enough footage?” Hoseok questioned the camera crew, getting a resounding thumbs up and they all shared their farewells as the director clapped Hoseok on the shoulder, saying it was another heartfelt episode that he’s sure viewers will love.

“And your chemistry! Definitely something spicy to have brought to the show, you two. It’ll surely get good ratings from the female audience, especially the ones who’ve shared their thoughts on our mastermind here.” The director chuckled as he pointed at Hoseok, giving him a hearty handshake and a thoughtful one to you before saying his own goodbye, leaving the two of you in the bedroom of the bus-turned-home. Neither of you moved an inch as the sounds of rumbling engines droned off in the distance, confirming that the others had left; that you two were utterly alone in the immediate vicinity.

“So, now that the cameras are off,” Hoseok turned to face you where you lied still on the bed, the light from the window essentially casting a spotlight on you. “What do you really think of the bus?”

A playful grin toyed on your lips and you couldn’t help but tease, as a form of punishment for the tailored torture Hoseok had been performing on you all this time.

“It’s terrible, I hate it.” Even with the words rolling off your tongue, the smile you refused to hide was a dead giveaway and Hoseok returned his own 1000-watt grin. The two of you felt some bubbling spark and suddenly you’re laughing, holding your stomach as the giggles overtook you. Hoseok seemed to have the same witchy effect on him as he doubled over in a fit of laughter, the two of you under some spell that had you on your backs on the bed. As he clutched his own stomach, you wiped at a tear that squeezed its way out as your laughter came harder.

Once the two of you had sufficiently calmed down, Hoseok looked up at you from where he lied, upside down and still as stunning as ever.

“What?” You touched your face, trying to see if maybe there had been something there that had Hoseok’s complete attention. As his wispy eyelashes fanned down with every slow blink, Hoseok drank in the vision of you; bathing in the warm sunlight and surrounded in the soft shades of gray that he painted every inch of your new bedroom in.

“Nothing, you’re just really beautiful.”

“Oh shut up, the cameras are gone Hoseok, no need to pretend anymore.” You brushed his compliment off as you finally took the time to look off into the distance, really appreciating the window that Hoseok put here.

Mind wandering, you hadn’t registered the sounds of the mattress creaking or the feeling of a warm body edging closer to yours until his breath fanned over your ear, making you whip your head around to meet Hoseok’s face directly in front of you own. Instinct told you to jump back and scream at the surprise of his proximity but his hand on your thigh and his lips on yours stopped your mind completely, shutting down all motor functions and rendering you both helpless and useless.

His lips were plump, soft and warm like a muffin fresh from the oven. You swore you tasted coconut on him, something tropical enough to make you feel like kissing him was a vacation; long awaited paradise with warm sand in between your toes and the breeze licking at your cheekbones. His breath mingled with your as his lips melded in further with your own, his craftsmanship extending past renovating things as his mouth worked some sort of mastered sorcery on yours.

You couldn’t even begin to describe how his kiss matched his hands, something along the soft lines of silk but still as firm as fresh fruit, the similarities making you dizzy but there was Hoseok; always ready to catch you. His strong arms framed your face and deepened the kiss, as he hovered over you. His tongue swept over your own and you couldn’t help but succumb to Hoseok’s charms, not knowing what spurred this on but also not caring enough to put a stop to it. Not when his hands felt so right on you and his body heat radiated and made your body feel warm to the touch despite having to constantly battle chills.

It took no time for his deft fingers to unbutton the shirt he had on, whipping off the plaid to reveal a toned body glistening with the slightest sheen of sweat from the combined heat of both your interaction and the lack of air conditioning since the bus hadn’t been turned on yet. Your eyes had a mind of their own as they greedily took heady gulps of Hoseok’s body, every dip and curve now forever etched in your memories.

Hoseok grinned and let you ogle him, taking the time to covertly make work of your buttons on your bottoms. It was when the final button snapped open that you realized his sneaky hands and you scoffed, playfully batting at him to scold his naughty fingers. He only laughed at your reaction, his hands sliding past your pants to slip under your top, the heat of his palms against your hip bones. Hoseok was silently asking permission, his thumbs gripping the fabric of your shirt until you responded. Anticipation brimmed at his fingertips and he was itching to rip the shirt off; to finally reveal the skin underneath.

When you nodded, it was like Christmas morning to the man.

He scanned your body, making sure to never forget just how gorgeous you were even in the barest of materials. The wine red of your bra accentuated your skin so well, Hoseok had half a mind to keep it on as he made love to you but he needed to see all of you, he felt like he’d just die if he couldn’t have all of you tonight.

Lips were back together, now with the sharp tang of ferocity biting between the two of you; static sparks tingling the nerves in your tongues as Hoseok took the time to unhook your bra amidst the blur of it all.

Once you were bared for him, he wasted no time in laving your breasts with his tongue. His peach plump pout peppered pecks over your pectorals, right above where your heart was thudding loudly against your ribcage. He worshipped your body with his lips, making sure not to miss a single inch of what he’d been longing for.

When you whimpered his name, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer to have you.

With his deft digits, he made work of removing the remainder of your clothes, leaving you bare for him on the mattress whilst his lower body still remained clothed. You wanted to remedy that as soon as possible and as you distracted him by sitting up and latching your mouth onto his thick neck, suckling small bruises there that stained his porcelain skin so well you couldn’t wait to see them bloom in various colors as they healed, you reached to palm him though his bottoms. He groaned at the feeling, head lolling back and revealing even more milky skin to attack.

You felt him trembling beneath your ministrations, clearly craving more but holding back.

“Hoseok,” He brought his head back up to look deeply into your eyes, gaze flickering down for a second as you darted your tongue out to wet your lips before continuing. “It’s okay, please don’t be afraid with me.”

His eyes softened, the pitch black pools fizzing into soft cocoa puddles, slightly more shimmered with a dewy wetness that you found endearing. With a small smile, his hands found yours and brought them to his mouth, each knuckle being carefully kissed before he finally rested them back into his lap, permission to continue.

His pants were off as well as his briefs and whilst you appreciated how gorgeous he looked completely nude—something akin to a Greek god, no doubt the perfect rendition of the priceless marble statues save for the more… intimate regions that he certainly did not lack in—you had some more urgent matters to attend to. As did Hoseok, if the flush on his length the steady dripping from the leaking head of it was anything to go by.

One could describe the setting to be poetic; a housewarming of sorts.

No better way to break in a house like breaking in the headboard first.

Hoseok’s calloused yet tender hands gingerly touched you all over, making you itch with arousal and need for him to touch you where you needed him most. He smiled, grin as bright as ever, as he continued to tease.

You took matters into your own hands as you deftly flipped the two of you over, nearly bouncing off completely from the freshness of the mattress springs. Erupting into yet another fit of giggles, you manage to stifle yours in the crook of his neck and despite the obvious distraction, Hoseok’s hands still managed to glide over your skin almost in a calculated manner; like he knew every place to graze to have you trembling.

“Now, now, that’s enough of that,” You chastised, stealing a kiss as you tried to pretend to take the reins. You maneuvered yourself to lay on you back once more, dragging Hoseok to follow you and cage you in. He took no time to accept his role, already kissing all over your face as one of his hands slid down to your core—a stark contrast to the gentle pecks he had trailed all across your cheeks. You weren’t expecting his finger to already make way inside you, gasping at the intrusion.

He continued to press his lips against yours as he worked you open, drinking in all your needy mewls and sultry moans as he pressed further, inching in another digit and stroking your walls in ways you’re sure you’d never be able to mimic when you’re by yourself.

“Baby, tell me when,” Hoseok whispered, breathless pants puffing against your collarbones, clearly trying to make sure you’re comfortable and feeling good but at the detriment of his own pleasure. You raised your leg and it brushed against his member, making him audibly whine against you.

“Now Hoseok, please. I want you.” He looked into your eyes again, the stare almost piercing but in a way you could only describe as tender.

His lips made their way from yours all the way to your ear, leaving a searing trail of kisses in their wake before he softly spoke into the shell of your ear, his breath audible with every labored syllable.

“Protection?” You turned your head to face him head on, mouthing I trust you and Hoseok couldn’t have looked more relieved if he tried, wanting to feel every bit of you but not knowing how to ask without seeming selfish.

His hand reached down and he guided himself inside you, using the other to spread your legs and allow him to ease his way in with minimal discomfort for you. Considerate as ever, he bottomed out slowly and kissed your nose as you closed your eyes and focused on not splitting in half.

His thick girth left you with a satisfactory fullness, having never felt such a feeling with a partner before. Despite every reason Hoseok had to be cocky with his body and sex appeal, he gave you every single minute you needed to adjust, down to the millisecond. He whispered sweet praises to you until you finally gave him the signal to move, even then still treating you like fine china as he pulled out and slowly thrusted back in.

The slow burn of his length inside you coaxed an open flame inside your belly, making your kisses turn hungry once more. Gone was the gentle, playful air that had radiated off the two of you as the atmosphere shifted to something darker, spicier.

Hoseok noted the change and began to grind into you harder, his kisses now laced with his devilish tongue and the barest hint of teeth. As his cock fucked into you with more passion, your body took on a mind of its own as your back arched and toes curled from the spine-tingling sensation of Hoseok fucking you just right. Pleased with himself, Hoseok hummed with his own pleasure, never having felt such a tight, hot heat around him like this. No one compared, the tension that coiled so tightly between the two of you throughout the span of the show having been so intense that now, in the culmination of it all,  it felt like the two of you were about to burst.

You teetered on the edge of coming for too long, not wanting to end this too soon but also feeling yourself fray at the corners from the relentless pleasure that Hoseok was managing to tear from you with ease. As you came apart underneath him, Hoseok wasted no time in clutching underneath your thighs, delving deeper inside than before. The feeling had you breathless, the wind knocked out of you long ago with just the mere sight of Hoseok; clothed or not.

“Angel, baby, I need you to come for me,” Hoseok whimpered, feeling his sanity slip from him as you continued to clench around him agonizingly.

And with that command, you were wrapped around his finger—or cock, same deal—and his word was law, having your orgasm hit you by surprise. Never had you come on command like that, but it was intense and breathtaking and everything that dirty novels wax poetry about.

Hoseok bared down and bit on the junction of your neck as he rode out his own high, taking a few more harsh thrusts inside you before his rhythm began to escape him and he sloppily came inside you, the warmth both startling and oddly satisfying. You let him catch his breath whilst still inside you, needing to catch your own as well if you had to be completely honest.

As he stayed inside, you slowly regained focus of the world; realizing where you were and just how heavy Hoseok actually was.

“Um… could you like, get off me?” You strained to speak, the weight on your lungs crushing the oxygen out of your words. Hoseok shook with laughter, that and the breathless chuckles against your neck indicating that he was laughing once more, and he dragged you into joining him as he gently pulled out; as gingerly as he’d done most everything else so far.

He plopped down on his back next to you, eyes gazing lovingly at the ceiling. He slowly let gravity do its work and his head came to rest on his arm, gaze refocusing on you as you become the main attraction; the target in his sights. You return the look with as much warmth as you could muster, hoping that even post-sex, you could still try to look good enough for him.

The way Hoseok was looking at you, it sort of terrified you. How one could look at someone so… sweetly, purely, even after such a lewd act? Yet here Hoseok was, managing it all while still looking like something straight out of a magazine—his after-sex glow had you beyond jealous, why couldn’t sweat work that way for you?

“You know, you look at me as if I hung the moon for you.” You couldn’t help your smart mouth from commenting, fighting the stash of giggles you felt bubbling from the base of your tummy and settling just behind your palate.

“Maybe you did? Have you ever considered that?”

“Ugh, so cheesy. Shut up, I thought those were just tropes for the show, to get women to like you.”

“Nope, all me.” Hoseok beamed and you resisted the urge to smother him with one of the decorative pillows he’d carefully picked out, yet another fine choice by the man.

“So, I guess we should say our goodbyes, right?” You digressed, longingly removing your eyes from him to focus on something past his lying figure, not wanting to truly come to terms with the idea of having to abandon the dreamlike lifestyle you’d envisioned with Hoseok, knowing this was probably a one-time thing and—

“What are you talking about? I really like you Y/N, was that not obvious enough?” His eyebrows furrowed in concern while yours shot up towards your hairline, not believing that his advances were actually legitimate. “Guess I should’ve used more pickup lines…”

“Hoseok, are you for real right now? Because if this is some elaborate business scheme or prank for TV, I’ll never forgive you. And I’ll probably sue for emotional distress.” You couldn’t hide the hope that glimmered in your eyes like shining pebbles in a babbling brook, the waters crashing against the creek and making your eyes get a little dewy at the thought of Hoseok being yours.

“Of course Y/N, I would never even dream of such a cruel prank! You’re really beautiful and sweet and lovely and… you’re like me. You’re a dreamer with a blank canvas and you’re dying to fill it with the colors of your mind but, sometimes it’s easier to paint with someone to help. And Y/N, I really want to color my world with you, you’re the only one I want.” Despite the slight lack of eloquence in Hoseok’s words, you still found every single bit endearing, feeling the emotion behind him as he spoke. It only served to make your eyes water more.

“Please Y/N, may I be your plus one on these travels?”

“But… the show, what will happen if you’re constantly traveling with me?” You tried to fight the pout on your lips, you really did, but it still puckered out and Hoseok chuckled at just how cute it made you look.

“The show is in its final episodes for the season, we’ve already filmed the big finale and I only need to reveal one more customers bus and that’s it!”

“Hopefully you don’t… celebrate like this with everyone after the big reveal, right?”

Hoseok laughed and this time you didn’t suppress your urge to hit him with a pillow, kissing him right after as he whined about getting hurt.

“No, just you baby. Now, shall we take this baby out for a test ride?”

“Are we talking about the bus or you?”

“Either works for me.”

“Me too.”

In a dust cloud of laughter and warmth, the two of you set off to complete your new home with a few finishing touches to truly make it yours and in the meantime, you get to test out the stability and sturdiness of the furniture Hoseok built. It was very educational, for sure.

From here on out, it was a journey with your new companion, and you had hopes that one day, you could repay Hoseok for giving you what you’ve always dreamed of:

A home.