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saetoru · 2 years ago

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。underneath the stars (looking for a sign)

synopsis. al-haitham thinks waking up beside you feels like a dream—well, until it doesn’t

— word count. 4.1k (how did a drabble get here sobs)

— contents. pining al-haitham, honestly it’s mutual pining lol, gn! reader, implied one night stands, consumption of alcohol (both reader and al-haitham) reader is a matra, al-haitham is acting grand sage, it’s basically the “avoid my crush after i accidentally sleep with him until he corners me” trope lol, confessions, brief angst and then a happily ever after, sfw + fluff, not proof read—this was entirely written on tumblr drafts through mobile app. yeah. we raw dogged this bad boy lmao

— notes. if you knew. how many wips i have with him. you would be astounded :,) he’s all that matters anymore

al-haitham wakes up to a bed much softer than his, red flag number one. there’s also a weight on his chest, red flag number two. red flag number three, however, doesn’t make itself apparent until he opens his eyes and sees you.

oh. not good. you’re covered in the sheets, but you’re clearly…topless, and a quick glance at his own torso tells him he’s also not clothed. oh. double not good.

but there’s also a small voice in his head that’s cheering and patting himself on the shoulder—he’s managed to fall into the bed of the very person he’s been quietly pining over for months, what more can a guy possibly ask for?

but unfortunately, his mini celebration in his inner thoughts is disrupted when you open your eyes at the disturbance from his movement—and before he can get even one word in, you shriek. rather loudly, too—it makes him wince at the sound (he’s always had sensitive ears.)

“what are you doing here?” you gasp, “and why haven’t you got a shirt—wait. why haven’t i got a shirt on?”

“well, it seems—”

“you slept with me?” you gasp again, cutting him off as your face twists in disbelief, “while i was drunk?”

“i was drunk too,” he points out, frowning at the accusations. al-haitham is a respectable man, and more importantly, he cares about you too much to take advantage of your inebriated state like that. “it was a two way street.”

that seems to calm you for…approximately two seconds before your face twists in horror again.

“al-haitham,” you wail his name in despair, slumping onto your mattress in defeat, “this is the worst thing we could have done. do you realize that?”

oh. you regret this—the voice in his head suddenly stops cheering. it deflates, in fact.

worst thing. is this really the worst thing? al-haitham thinks you both have always gotten along rather well, and he’s always taken your slightly stuttered words and nervous chuckles as a testament to holding the same attraction he holds for you. but maybe he was too quick to assume you feel the same, and your words now feel like a boulder on his chest. they’re heavy. soul crushingly heavy, in fact—but he keeps the blank expression on his face ever so easily.

“yes, it seems a bit inappropriate for coworkers to have an entanglement,” he agrees after a moment, making you whine at his word choice.

“you don’t have to call it that,” you huff.

then, out of sheer curiosity (and absolutely nothing else), you take a quick peek from the corner of your eyes at his chest. in your defense, his shirt leaves practically little left to the imagination, and when else will you get the opportunity to see his (very impressive) chest? a peek won’t hurt.

you’re thoroughly impressed when your eyes catch his sculpted pecs. his eyes are thoroughly unimpressed when they catch your gaze.

“well, what would you like to do about our predicament?” he asks flatly.

acting uninterested is the hardest part, he realizes. here, you’re within reach for his arm to curl around you, and yet somehow, there still feels like there are miles of space between you in the sheets. it’s a bitter reality, he thinks, one that stings a bit more than he’s ever really imagined.

al-haitham has witnessed lots of rejections in his time. whether it’s at the akademiya where he is the unfortunate witness of a rejected confession, or in novels he reads of unrequited feelings. he however never thought he’d land himself in the same situation—even if he hasn’t technically confessed to you yet. but your reaction definitely feels like one, and he’s smart enough to deduce that if he did confess, you wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea.

sure, it’s a bit unprofessional for the acting grand sage to have a relationship with one of the akademiya’s top matra that he works with rather frequently, but al-haitham is only the temporary grand sage. technically, after this, he will be going back to being the scribe who makes himself scarce on a regular basis. and it’s not very unprofessional for the scribe and a matra to be romantically involved, he’d like to argue. most people meet their significant others through the akademiya in the first place—why should he be any different?

but one glance at your face tells him you’re rather unhappy with this situation. he thinks he can hear a crack where the boulder resides on his chest.

“i think you should leave,” you mumble, chewing nervously on your lip, “and don’t say anything about this to anyone. especially not cyno.”

“noted,” he says blandly. you turn away, letting him have the privacy to rise out of bed and dress—which he does as slowly as possible, just to drag out the feeling of being in your bedroom for just a while longer—before he says clears his throat. “i’ll be seeing you,” he says.

“sure,” you nod awkwardly, “see you at uh…see you at work.”

with that, he walks out of your bedroom, and sees himself out. as soon as you hear the front door shut, you turn and scream into your pillow—the same pillow that happened to be under al-haitham’s head for the entire night, the same pillow that smells like his shampoo.

you think for a moment how you can never wash this pillow case again—and then, when you realize just what you’ve thought, you scream again.

you might just be entirely screwed.

—————

“and where have you been?” kaveh is waiting in the kitchen as soon as al-haitham enters.

great.

kaveh has a talent for making himself available to chatter away into al-haitham’s ear on the most stressful of days. whether it’s to greet him with complaints about having no help with cleaning after a long day of work, or to bang on his office door and demand an explanation for rejected funds as he does paperwork, or to ask where he’s been after he’s been wounded rather harshly by the one person he’s ever felt romantically inclined for, kaveh is always there at the worst possible timing.

leave it to kaveh to sour his mood more.

“i don’t see how it’s any of your business,” al-haitham mutters, grabbing the glass of water on the table and chugging it to help with the slight hangover he nurses—it’s evidently not his best morning in more ways than one.

“hey, that’s my glass,” kaveh scolds, “get your own.”

“it’s actually my glass. from my grandmothers set,” al-haitham corrects his roommate, “and i pay the water bills. so it’s my water too.”

“you—” kaveh shakes with frustration. it would pull a bit of an amused grin on al-hairham’s face if he wasn’t in the worst mood possible. “nevermind,” kaveh huffs, crossing his arms, “where were you—wait, is that a hickey?”

“no,” al-haitham says instantly, pulling his cloak higher to cover his neck—but kaveh beats him to it, reaching over and inspecting his skin. he seems to light up as soon as he realizes it is, in fact, a hickey on al-haitham’s neck.

“it is a hickey,” he grins gleefully, gasping in sheer disbelief that al-haitham seems to have some sort of life outside of work and home, “this can’t be. did you pay someone to get into bed with you—”

“just because some of us can afford such services doesn’t mean we indulge in them,” al-haitham grumbles, which earns an offended gasp from the blonde, “and i’m not obligated to tell you where, or with who for that matter, i was—”

“was it that matra you’re always standing around with?” kaveh grins knowingly, cutting him off.

the mere mention of you must make his face fall—which is new, because al-haitham has always been good at hiding his emotions on his face. but kaveh seems to have realized he’s overstepped, because his smile fades just as quickly as it comes.

“it doesn’t matter,” al-haitham mutters, “it was a mistake.”

“a mistake? but you’ve been pathetically pining for months, anyone with eyes can see—”

“i’ll be going to work now,” al-haitham cuts kaveh off, “make sure you pay this months rent on time.”

with that, he turns, making his way to his room to shower and then be off to the akademiya—where he equal parts hopes he doesn’t see you, and equal parts hopes he runs into you just to catch a glimpse of you again.

—————

you haven’t seen al-haitham is six days—correction: you’ve avoided al-haitham for six days. admittedly, it’s becoming increasingly difficult seeing as he is the acting grand sage, and you do need him to approve of your reports from recent investigations—but then you remember how six days ago, in the darkly lit corner of the street on your way home, you both kissed.

(and yes, it was a drunken mistake—neither you nor al-haitham value public displays of inappropriate affection between coworkers, but that doesn’t erase what happened.)

perhaps it would be easy to laugh it off as an impulsive action the both of you took while being under the influence, but then you both stumbled into your house. and then your bed. and then a kiss turned into more…and then next thing you knew, you’ve been awakened to a very unclothed (but still very handsome) al-haitham next to you in the mattress.

you should be mature and face him—people can sleep with people and not let it mean anything, proper adults would simply brush over this and never look back. but al-haitham is a bit of a difficult scenario.

he’s handsome—painfully so, with those sculpted muscles and those soft strands of hair that fall perfectly over his face. but more than he is easy on the eyes, he’s a charming individual. at least to you—you think the majority of the akademiya would have to disagree.

but al-haitham is kind, he greets you properly, holds doors open for you, and he often notices when you’re tired just by looking at you before giving you extensions on reports. he’s caring, you can tell because he’s helped people more than once, and while he claims it’s for the sake of his own convenience so he can avoid extra trouble, you know that he doesn’t have the heart to turn away from those that need him. more importantly, al-haitham is disciplined—it’s something all matra such as yourself can appreciate.

he seeks out knowledge in the most moral of methods, he never crosses limits or abuses power even when he holds the ability to, and he never takes advantage of the authority he may hold over others.

he’s wonderful, you can’t help but think—and admittedly, his hands also have very attractive veins that make you sweat a little. but that’s not the important part, of course. the important part is how perfect his character is, if you take the moment to understand it. and you like to think you understand it—much more than most at the akademiya.

except romancing the akademiya’s grand sage isn’t the best look for a matra—especially if you want to climb up the ranks soon. you don’t want rumors spread to undermine your hard work…or worse, be accused by the general mahamatra of taking your position as the grand sage’s lover to your advantage for work gains.

cyno is a strict individual—you’d hate to get on his bad side. and just as you think about how awful it would be if he got the wrong impression, he walks right up to you.

with that serious look on his face—why does he always have that serious look on his face?

“grand sage al-haitham requests you in his office,” he says. you don’t detect any suspicion in his voice, and it seems like a perfectly normal statement, but that’s the thing about cyno. he’s too good at not letting his movements be read, too good at cornering caged animals before dragging them by the ankles out in the open, exposed and vulnerable.

you gulp. “did he say why?” you ask, “i’m a bit busy.”

“no,” cyno shakes his head—and then he looks at you oddly, “you don’t seem busy.”

“well….this report won’t write itself,” you chuckle nervously, which only makes his brows furrow in confusion.

“wasn’t that due two days ago?”

fuck.

“yes….but al-haitham gave me an extension.”

“he seems to give you a lot of those,” cyno points out, unimpressed.

well, that’s great, you think. surely, there is no other matra as good at losing composure and making things more obvious for themselves than you.

“i haven’t been feeling well,” you say quickly—which isn’t the worst excuse, seeing as you’ve hardly shown your face at the akademiya for the last few days.

cyno seems to buy it too, because he nods in understanding before giving you a concerned look. “you shouldn’t push yourself, you know,” he lectures, “being sick snot fun.” you blink, and he looks thoroughly amused with himself. “get it? because when you’re sick, you might have a runny nose? snot? and—”

“right,” you nod, “i’ll be seeing the grand sage now. i wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”

at least you know cyno has not made any….inappropriate assumptions if he’s making jokes, as painful as they might be. you’re not sure if you’d rather face al-haitham or continue to listen to the general mahamatra’s interesting sense of humor, but the closer you get to the grand sage’s office, the more you want to turn back and find cyno again.

but you’re an adult, and adults do adult things sometimes, and sometimes they’re not the most ideal, but the only way to handle such situations is the adult way—to be mature and not let things get in the way of being professional. easy enough.

at least, you hope.

—————

“you called for me, grand sage?”

ouch. al-haitham has now been reduced to grand sage, not just al-haitham. he looks at you for a moment, and he tries—really, he does—to seem unbothered, but his brows crinkle before he can stop them.

“i did, yes,” he says, looking at you.

you look lovely—which, you always do, even when you’re nervous. he can tell you are because you have that habit of chewing on your lip when you’re nervous, and he hates that he makes you anxious enough to do that right now.

al-haitham has always hated the gap between him and everyone else—not because he enjoys being close to others, but because it’s burdensome to always seem like a pretentious asshole. being interpreted as one over the years has left him quite numb to what other people think….but that’s not the case with you, unfortunately. he wonders if you’ve ever thought he was an asshole, or if you’ve ever felt that he acts like he’s better than you are. he hopes you’ve never talked to him and thought he’s condescending like kaveh insists he is—he hopes you find value in his honesty and find him insightful.

he thinks you might have at one point, if the way carrying conversation with you is so easy is of any proof. it feels natural, talking to you. your voice is smooth, especially when it reads over mission reports to him in his office. your laugh is even smoother, though—it’s soft, and honeyed, it sounds like something he’s been missing his whole life.

everything about you feels like something he’s been missing his whole life, like he was born to be with you by his side, and he’s been empty without you all along.

you clear your throat, handing him papers as you pull him from his thoughts and say, “here is the report for that last investigation,” you say quietly, “i apologize for the untimeliness. it won’t happen again—”

“that’s not why i called you,” he cuts you off.

al-haitham is a straightforward man. he’s watched many confessions, and he’s read about many confessions, and he’s even thought about how his own confessions might go should he ever find someone he finds interest in.

but this isn’t interest. al-haitham is not interested in you—he needs you. to call this a confession might be incorrect, he thinks for a moment, because this almost feels like he’s about to plead for you to give him a chance.

“oh,” your voice is small.

you think you have an inkling of an idea of what he’ll bring up, and you contemplate running out of his office and begging cyno to tell you a few more of his jokes….or a few dozen….maybe a few hundred to be safe.

“we should talk about that night—”

“well, there’s not much to talk about,” you say simply, “you and i are consenting adults, and we happened to be heavily under the influence, which caused a lapse in judgement. it’s a bit unprofessional, sure, but as long as neither of us say anything, and as long as we manage to keep a professional atmosphere between the two of us, there shouldn’t be any—”

he cuts off your (rehearsed in the bathroom mirror many times) speech as he clears his throat. “i….” the words are caught in his throat.

for a lifetime of straightforward honesty and blunt words, it seems like now of all times he can’t seem to speak.

“you…?” you motion for him to continue.

“i enjoyed it.”

you sputter. his eyes widen as he stumbles over his words when he realizes what he’s really said.

“grand sage,” you gasp, “i think that’s hardly appropriate for—”

“n-no, i meant i enjoyed you,” he says quickly, making you furrow your brows.

“and what does that mean? because—”

“i enjoyed being with you,” he croaks. it’s a good thing kaveh isn’t here to witness this, because as a self proclaimed expert at love (which al-haitham would have to disagree), kaveh would have an absolute ball watching this. “i don’t….i would prefer if we didn’t pretend nothing happened,” he mumbles, “if you feel the same, that is.”

everything about al-haitham is hopeful. from the way his eyes watch your every movement as they stare at you, to the way he clutches the pen in his hand tightly in anticipation of your response, he’s hopeful. you can tell.

you can tell he’s hopeful you’ll say yes, that he’s hopeful you’ll say you feel the same way as him, that he’s hopeful he’ll see you again in a setting that’s not just for work and mission reports and investigation details.

he’s hopeful you’ll say yes to his pleading eyes and fill that empty spot beside him that’s been empty for far too long.

and it feels like swallowing lead when you sigh heavily and watch the hope crumble.

“al-haitham,” you mumble, “this wouldn’t be very wise, you know?”

“and why’s that?” the hurt in his face is almost tangible.

he’s not foreign to rejections, he’s witnessed them his whole life. he watched that haravatat scholar that declined the amurta one outside of class that one year. he read about that main character that found self respect and declined the toxic love interest in that novel he read last summer. he’s declined his own fair share of confessions by random scholars that stare a bit too long at his chest and arms for his liking.

but for some reason, he never imagined it to feel like this. like being with your for one second longer might just burn his skin, but being away from you might leave him cold and numb. al-haitham thinks that if you walked out that door, you might just take every bit of warmth he’s ever known from him—but sitting in front of you, in front of your sorrowed expression and sympathetic eyes….it might be too much heat for him to handle.

“well, you’re the grand sage, and i’m a matra—”

“acting grand sage,” he corrects, “it’s temporary. i’ll be back to being the akademiya’s scribe in a short bit.”

“but people talk,” you insist, “and i’ve worked hard to be a respectable matra, and i wouldn’t want anyone to think i’ve slept my way to the top. plus, the general mahamatra is technically my boss, and he’s very strict—”

“the general mahamatra and i drink at taverns together quite often,” he says pointedly, “he’s well aware of how i feel.”

“you told cyno?” you gasp, shooting him a sharp look, “i asked you specifically not to—”

“he’s known of my feelings before that night,” he assures, “evidently i’m not very subtle.”

“well,” you hum, biting back a smile, “no, you aren’t.”

he raises a brow, tilting his head in confusion. “you’ve known?”

“al-haitham,” you chuckle, eyeing him fondly. something about the way your smile is so bright makes him clutch his pen tighter. “you aren’t the most social, you know. but you always have something to say to me.”

“that doesn’t always mean anything,” he mumbles, blush rising to the tips of his ears.

he’s endearing this way, you decide—when he’s flustered and almost pouting and flushed a bright shade of pink. you think for a second that maybe, if you kiss him for a bit in the comforts of his office, no one will ever have to know.

“but it does, doesn’t it?” you tease.

“and if you’ve indulged it all this time, am i safe to assume it means something to you too?” he asks, raising a brow.

you should say no. sleeping with the grand sage and kissing him in his office and maybe even going on dates and possibly holding hands is hardly a good look—but the scribe….well, maybe the scribe is a different story.

“ask me again when you’re the akademiya’s scribe,” you say, biting back a smile, “perhaps my answer will be different then.”

“i see,” he nods, biting back a smile of his own, “i suppose the grand sage isn’t everyone’s type, huh?”

“no,” you chuckle, “i suppose not. but the scribe….well, he’s rather charming.” you walk up to him, lean down and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth as you mumble, “i don’t mind waiting for the scribe.”

“well, lucky for you, you won’t have to wait too long,” he hums.

he watches you leave his office—and then he decides that when he clocks out at five pm sharp later, he’ll go straight home, tell kaveh that he is, in fact capable in the field of romance, and demand this month’s rent.

—————

“haitham, we’re out of eggs,” you pout, poking your head out of the fridge, “will you bring some on the way home today?”

“we would have eggs if kaveh didn’t use all of mine,” al-haitham grumbles, glaring at the blonde who gasps in offense.

“and you help yourself to my beer, don’t you? i deserve a few eggs,” kaveh huffs.

“well, make sure you pay this month’s rent on time. we’re going to buy some more furniture for our room.”

this time, kaveh turns to you in disbelief—you find it amusing how he seems to still find it improbable that anyone would like to spend longer than five minutes with al-haitham, let alone share a bedroom.

“are you really sure you want to do this? what could you possibly see in him? he’s the most aggravating individual i’ve ever had the pleasure of talking to,” kaveh eyes you in concern as you walk over and press a soft kiss to al-haitham’s forehead, earning himself an unimpressed glare from the scribe and making you giggle.

“he is a bit aggravating,” you agree with a teasing glint, pinching al-haitham’s cheek as he scoffs, “but i think he’s just nice to me because i sleep with him.”

“that’s gross,” kaveh wrinkles his nose, “you had better not be doing anything i can hear from my room—that would be traumatic. although, it must be more traumatic for you,” he says with sympathy.

“if you don’t like it, you can simply move out,” al-haitham, shrugs, wrapping an arm around your waist. as much as you love your boyfriend—and you love him quite a bit, you can’t help but mourn the fact that constant bickering will now become a staple in your daily routine.

“are you threatening me?” kaveh gasps before he turns to you with his finger pointing to al-haitham, “do you see? this is your future, i hope you know that. he’s much more unpleasant to live with, i’m warning you in advance—don’t say i didn’t try.”

“well, i’m sure he’ll be on his best behavior for me,” you grin, eyeing al-haitham playfully as your fingers weave into his hair, “otherwise, i’ll have to come sleep in your room when i’m mad at him.”

you think, for the first time ever, kaveh and al-haitham seem to agree on something as they both share a look of dread at your words.

pov: you write 3.8k words of build up for a plot just so you can write the last scene 😭

no bc literally i meant to write this as a drabble just so i could write that last scene bc i thought of it and giggled but then the plot just kept going and now we’re at 4.1k words like w h a t

#teepods.writings #fics.#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x you #alhaitham angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff

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mickules · 2 months ago

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~The answer may surprise you~ take a peek below!👀

The answer is 6) the secret was that it was All of the Above! 🎉

Consider this as a bit of a life update!

I don’t usually do this sort of thing, but as it’s such a big switch up I wanted to give a bit of a heads up. I don’t plan on disappearing, but it might be inevitable for a little while whilst I keep on top of things!

Firstly I’m moving country! Temporarily! I’ve taken a sabbatical from work so I can pursue some personal things whilst I still have the ability to do so, and whilst I have the savings for it, and as you can imagine! It’s! Stressful! They certainly haven't made it easy, but once all the wheels are in place it should be fantastic

I also have several art commitments; none of which I can really talk about yet, but all of which might take up a significant amount of my time (sob) Hopefully when I’m done I’ll be able to show yous!

On top of that I am looking forward to working on some longer dangan comics as well as animations (!) I’ve had on the backburner for like YEARS!

I’m also possibly going to look into maybe doing some commission work to tide me over – My brother has been tryna get me to do keyrings and things, so that’s another thing I’m mulling about.

You may have noticed I’ve closed my ask box, it’s been ages since I’ve been able to keep on top of them, but I’m hoping that I’ll get the chance once I’m settled in to actually go through them proper, I hate leaving them unanswered and I appreciate every single one, I've been spoiled with so many wonderful lovely messages 💖

Unfortunately I’m something of an insulated offline creature so keeping up with messages and comments takes a lot of my brain power which is usually too depleted once I’ve gotten home after work.

I do sit like this whilst I draw. I deserve everything that's coming to me.

I do have a danganranpan inspired tramp stamp, connected to the rest of my back tattoo

I’m not gonna show you.

You’re just gonna have to believe me.

I have a bad habit of slapping dethklok albums on repeat when I wanna pump up my energy for chores, I think I bolloxed my neck to Hatredcopter?

youtube

Fingers crossed for everything coming up and I hope I’ll have lots of things to share with yous soon!

#Just a quick update!#not me making this post literally the day before my flight #last coupla months have been tough #not bad but a LOT #looking forward to what’s coming up tho’!#got a lot of fun things in the works #wish me luck!#Youtube

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seongwars · 3 months ago

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hiraeth | jeon wonwoo

model!wonwoo x veterinarian!reader genre: fluff, no real angst

I really want to start my wonwoo series but I have too many wips at the moment so this will have to suffice 😭

You and Wonwoo grew up as childhood friends and next-door neighbors in a small countryside town. You both dreamed of moving to the city—you to become a veterinarian and him to pursue a career as a photographer.

But tragedy struck when your sister and brother-in-law were killed in a car accident, leaving behind your baby niece. You decided to stay in your hometown, attending a local university to take care of your niece and grandmother. Meanwhile, Wonwoo moved to the city, where he was unexpectedly street-cast as a model and quickly rose to fame.

Your friendship falls apart when Wonwoo comes home for winter break, and you both get into a heated argument when he tells you that he's ashamed he grew up in a place like this and that you'd never be good enough to make it like he did.

That was the last time you'd ever spoken to him.

A decade later, Wonwoo unexpectedly returns home, shocking everyone. No one knows why, but the paparazzi and fans flood the town trying to figure out his whereabouts. Wonwoo tries to evade the paparazzi and his rabid fans and hides out in Mr. Kwon's barn.

Meanwhile you're helping Mr. Kwon find his missing cow, and it turns out she gave birth to a calf in a field. All is well until a bunch of cars speed by, potentially stressing out the cow and her calf. Stupid city slickers!

You return to the barn and find Wonwoo hiding. Obviously, you rebuff him but then point out he's covered in poop.

Later at dinner, his dad reveals that these rich developers keep coming to town trying to convince people to sell their land and there's lots of resistance from the locals. But they keep getting threatened by these city folk!

Oh and you're being romanced by Choi Seungcheol, your niece's gym teacher.

Wonwoo doesn't like that.

You and Wonwoo somehow always seem to cross paths. Whether its dropping your niece off at school or making a farm call, he always has on a dumb disguise.

The only person in town who seems thrilled about the sudden rise in tourism is the town head, Lee Jihoon. Because money.

Sometime later, your grandmother invites Wonwoo and his dad over for dinner, and lo and behold Choi Seungcheol is also there.

It turns out that Seungcheol is originally from the city but took the teaching job in the countryside because it was too competitive in the city. Sure, Jan.

You get an emergency call from Mr. Kim because his dog Kimja is having a difficult labor. You rush over, doing everything you can to help her. Despite your best efforts, Kimja doesn’t make it, and neither do the rest of the litter, except for one tiny, puppy.

Wonwoo, still awake, sees you coming home and you're a sobbing mess. He musters the courage to reach out to you, and you kind of just rant about how you did everything to try and help her and the rest of the litter but you failed.

"You did your best and that's all that matters."

You bury your face in his shoulder, unable to stop the tears. It’s been years since you’ve felt this defeated. As a veterinarian, you’ve faced so many challenges, but nothing like this. Never something so completely out of your control.

Wonwoo admits that he came home because he also felt like a failure. He was supposed to play the lead role in an up-and-coming movie by the famous director Yoon Jeonghan, but the project was put on hold due to Jeonghan's frustration with Wonwoo's inability to act convincingly as they looked for a new lead.

"He said I couldn't act my way out of a paper bag."

So, Wonwoo came home to reevaluate his life choices and decide if he could start over.

You tell him he absolutely can, that it's not too late. But that he shouldn't give up or let some city boy take his place.

"You're gonna let some city boy prove he's better than you? Go take back what's yours!"

You both reconcile and you go home.

The next day, those darn developers come back, and the townsfolk are out protesting. You, your grandma, your niece, Wonwoo, and his dad are all there, standing with the protestors.

One of the developers recognizes him, even with glasses, and mentions that his daughter is a big fan.

"Wonwoo? Famous? Nahhh," the townsfolk laugh, waving it off like the developer must have mistaken him for someone else.

The developers approach Wonwoo and attempt to sway him to their side. They want him to convince the town to sell their land so they can build their fancy golf course. But Wonwoo refuses outright because this is the place that raised him, and no amount of money or pressure can change that.

Using his star power, Wonwoo pulls every string he can to get the developers to back off. In the process, he uncovers a shocking twist: Turns out, Seungcheol was a spy for the developers and, to top it off, the son of one of them!

Wonwoo tells you the truth, and with a heavy heart, you end things with Seungcheol.

"He was too perfect," you sighed.

Thanks to the power of privilege and friendship, Wonwoo manages to help save the town from the developers.

While everyone is celebrating, Wonwoo tells you he's going to go back to the city and convince Director Yoon to give him another shot.

"Make sure you rub it in his face when you win an award for that role."

Over the next few months, Wonwoo visits home between shoots, and you both rekindle your friendship—and something more. It's in the way his eyes linger on you just a moment too long.

Or after a particularly long day, you find yourselves sitting on the roof of his parent's house, eating ramen. Somewhere between conversations of the past and future, his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining in a quiet, tender gesture.

The night of the Golden Carat Awards rolls around, and everyone gathers in the courtyard of the town center to watch the ceremony.

Wonwoo’s name is announced among the nominees for Best New Actor, and the crowd quiets instantly.

“And the winner for Best New Actor is…” The announcer pauses dramatically, drawing out the moment.

“Jeon Wonwoo!”

When his name is called, you let out a little gasp, unable to help the way a smile breaks across your face as the crowed erupts into chaos. Wonwoo’s dad, who had been sitting quietly at the start of the evening, is now sobbing uncontrollably.

“That’s my son!”

Your heart swells with pride as the camera pans to Wonwoo, standing from his seat to hug the people around him before making his way to the stage.

“I really didn’t think I’d be standing here tonight. Thank you to the Golden Carat committee, my team, the amazing cast and crew I’ve been lucky enough to work with—and, of course, my fans. None of this would’ve been possible without you.”

Wonwoo pauses, glancing down at the trophy for a moment. You wonder if he’s collecting his thoughts or trying not to cry. Then, he looks back up, his expression softer now, almost shy.

“I’d like to thank my family for their unwavering support,” he continues, his voice quieter but no less heartfelt. “And…” He hesitates, his lips curling into a faint smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“My guiding light. Someone who’s been my source of inspiration to keep fighting against those city boys, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

The courtyard falls silent as every single person turns to look at you and you can't help but sink lower into your chair.

“Marry him already!” Mr. Kim yells.

When Wonwoo returns, he’s standing on your doorstep with a bouquet of wildflowers your niece helped him pick out, grinning from ear to ear. He promises that he'd be happy waiting for you to come home, taking care of the laundry while you help animals.

So you take him up on his offer.

#jeon wonwoo #wonwoo drabble #seventeen #svt #model au #wonwoo x you #is it really a drabble? or my unhinged thoughts #svt fluff #childhood friends to lovers #wonwoo fluff

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sabine-smitten-obviously · 4 months ago

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Good Omens - December reads part #1- fanfics recs 🤓🩷🎄

I ´ve decided to write a short summary each month about the books i read. I need this to let go of the stories, its a nice way of saying good-bye to them and to spread the love to the authors and to you. 🩷

I only read finished stories and rarely one-shots. You will find no WIPs in here, as i really like to dive deep into the plot and i keep losing track of WIPs. Also you will only find happy or at least hopeful endings here - i couldn´t handle anything else.

Thank you to @di-42 for inspiring me to do this with her own monthly review! 🤗 Check her out, she is an incredible author!

Also i try to find every author here on tumblr to link-to, but sadly some times i am out of luck. If you happen to know them, please tell them, write to me in the comments or DM me and i will update the post!

Multichapter Fanfics

Forbidden roman(ce) by WorseOmens

Sadly this story seems to have been deleted, also the author is not on AO3 at the moment. Maybe they have disabled or deleted their account. Its a pity, because it was a truly nice story.

It plays in ancient Rome. Crowley is living in a villa just outside Rome and "inherits" a slave from his uncle. For at first undisclosed reasons he tries to keep him away from his other slaves - and what other way is there than to spend time with him himself?

A nice story, only a bit angsty to me, and the last 2 chapters really cracked me to sobbing tears. I do so hope that the fic goes up again or that some of you might know the author and tell them about this. Maybe some of you have downloaded the story already (just like i had) and will still be able to enjoy it!

Lunacy by @snae-b

OMG - i have been a sucker for the whole Alien-Films for decades. If you know them (Sigourney Weaver - i mean how cool can you be stearing a hauling-robot to kill an alien?) - you know the feeling they produce.

This is exactly what this story is able to capture. Crowley is head of a mining-crew on the outer borders of the known space. Aziraphale is a geologist coming with them. The plot is an angsty pageturner which had me leave the light on at night. Just loved it and made its way to my re-read list. 👽

Love in the Garden by @tawnyontumblr

It´s the early 90ties, its UK and its gay. HIV and Aids are kind of a rumor, no one knows exactly what is going on. Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves right in the middle of it. This story is SO SO important, but please do mind the tags before you start. It will be a hard read. 🩷 To me it was very precious, this is exactly my teenager-time and i remember it all too well. Please remember i only rec stories with a happy ending! Apart from that - i am SO thankful for how far we have come concerning this disease.

Yes. Yes. Yes. Goodbye? by appleseeds

Human AU; Aziraphale is dragged to a Halloween-Haunted-Castle-"Party" by his friend Tracy. He clearly would rather curl up in bed with a book than being there, but thank Someone there is this beautiful stranger sitting across of him, who doesn´t seem to want to be here either. They go ghost-hunting through the castle - what will they find? 😅

The small ad by @theladydrgn and @sylwritesstuff

Tall, lanky ginger of arguable gender available to be your significant other ... This is the ad Crowley puts out and Aziraphale decides to call. With the family reunion ahead he doesn´t want to go there alone - again. Gabriel would be too much of a nuisance. You can imagine the rest!

I love the authors and have read more of their books in the past. They are always very easy to follow, funny and satisfyingly smutty. 🌶😁

Three two one, we go live by HazelSage

Crowley is falling in love with his secretary Aziraphale, while secretly being addicted to a camboy called "not an angel". What he doesnt know - Aziraphale has a secret side-hussle ...

The story is merely an excuse for writing lots of cam-scenes with Aziraphale having solo-sx for his fans-only-channel. Do mind the tags !! Plot-to-Smut-Ratio = 15:85 😁

Tastes by @tawnyontumblr

Aziraphale is bound to be wedded and searches Crowley´s help to become a rake so that his betrothed doesn´t want to marry him any longer. Love in regency times, gentle gender discussions in a time that no-one even knew or at least talked about it. Wonderful story that had me re-read whole pages because they were so touching. Also: very hot!

One-Shots!

Anthony J. Crowley, Retired Demon and Airbnb Superhost by @theoldaquarian

I found this story through another rec from @di-42 and it really had me laughing. Crowley rents his flat out as an Airbnb and here you can read what people say about it. Very funny! 😅 The author seems to have deleted their tumblr-account, so i couldn´t link them.

Naked and afraid: Jingle Hell by @klikandtuna

Crowley and Aziraphale don´t know each other, they participate in the same TV-Show, which is called "Naked and Afraid" and is set in the Jungle. It´s a survival show. The rest is a very funny plot exclusively consisting of banter and scene-descriptions.

Not really a One-Shot, it´s over 20k, but i stumbled in and it was just so funny that i kept on reading. Biggest laugh: "I’m about to lose a testicle to frostbite." 😅 A christmas-story you can read all year through.

Some strangeness in the proportion by @trailingoff

Set after the end of S1. Aziraphale has been punished by the "destruction of the demon" and he grieves deeply. He moves into Crowleys flat and just wants to be alone. If just this angel wouldn´t keep showing up, trying to help him overcome his feelings.

Loved this one, it was written before S2 and somehow i wonder if it doesn´t hit to the point with its message ... Also a bit longer for a one-shot with 11.500 words.

Puttin on the Ritz by @moonyinpisces

It´s New York, it´s the 1920ies and Aziraphale is on a heavenly mission, when he accidentally bumps into Crowley. As part of their arrangement Crowley decides to take over and Aziraphale gets to watch a demonic temptation for the first time. Will he be able to resist? A short, funny, fluffy smut story. 😉

Incredible Artwork by Zoe @vavoom-sorted-art 🩷

Green Light by @dragonfire42

After the second not-coming Aziraphale decides it´s time for him to finally "cum". He uses all the historical appropriate terms to tell Crowley his wish and can´t fathom why Crowley doesn´t understand. At least at first. When he does, 6000 years of pining break loose. Very funny!

All i want for christmas by @naromoreau

Oh i loved that story so much! Crowley is the single-dad to Warlock, Aziraphale the single-dad to Adam. They meet at school for the christmas-party of their kids, where Aziraphale also acts as Santa Claus and asks Crowley to help him dress up. How they end up in the janitory closet? Guess you have to find out! Very sweet and hot. 🎅🩷

So thats 13 fanfics in the first 8 days - wow. I never kept track of my readings this way and i am a bit surprised myself. thanks to all the wonderful authors for making my nights! 🤗

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable husbands #good omens fanfic rec #fanfic #i read my fanfics at night #thank you for your fanfiction

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sweetyyhippyy · 8 months ago

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39 Weeks. Dad!Eddie Series. *FLUFF*

Summary: Eddie's wife is now 39 weeks pregnant and things aren't getting any easier.

Word Count: 766

TW: Being big pregnant, a lot of crying.

A.N.: Surprise!!!!! I was going through my WIPs and found this! I didn't think i ever finished it but I did!

~~~~~~~~~~

Bulging belly.

Swollen ankles.

Back pain.

Peeing every 3 minutes.

Being 39 weeks (and 5 days, but who’s counting) was starting to take its toll on her. She was tired, sore, swollen, hot all the time, and overly emotional - which Eddie always seemed to be the one to pick up the pieces.

Her day at home hasn’t been as relaxing as she hoped.

For lunch, she wanted a simple bowl of cereal, but the milk had spoiled. She went to make grilled cheese, an easy second option, only to find a single piece of bread, and naturally it was the end piece. Clearly a grocery store visit needed to happen.

As the day went on, the pain in her lower back was more than she could bear on top of the tightness she was feeling in her stomach.

The final straw was when she went to switch the laundry. Somehow a little red sock ended up in a load with Eddie’s Hellfire Club shirt and a few other white shirts that ended up turning the shirts pink.

Tears started to flow instantly with frustration in herself, something that had started to become normal the last few weeks.

As much as she loved being pregnant in the very beginning, she was physically and emotionally over being this heavily pregnant and miserable.

Eddie swings the front door open, excited to see his wife after a long day of work.

“Babe?” He calls out, throwing his keys on the counter in the dark kitchen, the house eerily quiet.

“Babe, I’m home. Where are you?” Eddie walks throughout the house, finding their bedroom door closed and small sniffles from behind it.

Eddie furrows his eyebrows before slowly opening the door and peeking his head in to see his wife curled up in a ball under the sheets, her body shaking from her sobs.

“What’s going on, sweetheart? What happened?” Eddie rushes over to her, laying a hand on her back.

She erupts in a violent sob, looking back at Eddie with swollen eyes. “I just want the baby here already. I can’t take being pregnant anymore!” She yells. “I don’t have any control over my body, everything hurts, all I want is some cereal and the milk is spoiled. We don’t have enough bread!.”

“It’s just your hormones.” Eddie soothes her, not the first time this pregnancy he’s let her cry it out.

“I don’t know how you put up with me! I’m insufferable! I turned your shirts pink because I can’t do laundry the right way.” She picks up the shirt from next to her and shoves it in his face. “See?! It’s pink! I’m sorry!” She was beyond hysterical at this point.

Eddie grabs the newly pink shirt from her and opens it up. “It’s kinda badass, babe. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re my husband and you’re trying to be nice to me. I did it to your favorite Metallica shirt too.” She hiccups a sob, handing him more of the evidence.

Sure it was his favorite shirt, but he still couldn’t be angry at her even a little bit. “Hey, can you look at me for 10 seconds?”

She slowly looks up at him, shame in her face.

Eddie wipes her tears from her cheeks, planting a soft kiss onto her forehead. “For the past 39 weeks you’ve been growing a baby, our baby. You’ve been growing her little nose, her arms, her heart. That’s a lot of work. You’re exhausted, you’re hurting, nobody is mad that you accidentally made my shirts pink.”

“You’re not mad?” She sniffles broken, wiping her wet eyes again.

“No, sweetheart.” He wraps his arms around her and cradles her head against his chest. “Hell I’ve done a load of laundry for you and shrunk your favorite sweater and you weren’t mad at me, remember?”

She can’t help but giggle, remembering how scared he was to tell her he shrunk her sweater, he bought her favorite food home, brought her flowers, and put her favorite movie on before he showed her the sweater, the cutest puppy dog face on.

“Since you had a bad day, I’ll go make you a bath, not too hot, and I’ll go grab some groceries, get some stuff to make dinner, and I’ll come back and spoil you.”

“That sounds nice.” She smiles, kissing his cheek. “Since you’re going to the store, will you pick up some green grapes for me? And by me, I mean the baby of course.”

Eddie chuckles, getting off the bed. “Anything for the baby."

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson x fem reader #Eddie Munson x fem! reader #Dad!Eddie #Dad!Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x reader

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pumpkinspice-prouvaire · 1 year ago

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pumpkinspice-prouvaire's required les mis fic reading list

enough of u supported me in my half asleep post asking about fic recs the other day so I am providing. If you want a deep look into my inner psyche this is also the list for that hehe. I tried to be strict about only including my absolute MUST READ fics that I adore and have read and reread and reread again multiple times. Also these will be mostly ExR, to no one's surprise. But there might be a few other ships and gen fics in there too. It's under the read more because this bitch is gonna get long

Auto-read authors:

I didn't wanna rec the same authors too many times in my list proper so these are the authors whose works I have read all (or nearly all) of multiple times. The authors whose tax returns I would read if they posted them on ao3. I will be featuring my favourite fics by them in the list

Fiver

dannyPURO

TheLibrarina

quillsand

Petr1chor

defractum

ShameDumpster

vamillepudding

revolutionbarbie

loverism (all of their fics are currently in a privated bookmark but I have faith that they will someday return. loverism if u see this I miss u)

Need_To_Comment_Rising

Multi-Chapter fics/Series/WIPs:

Under My Wings You Will Find Refuge- Fiver: (WIP) This is the most required reading of my required reading list. I can quote passages of this fic by heart. It's my roman empire. PLEASE check this one out if you haven't it is the best ExR fic in existence, it will change ur life I promise

Beneath a Dragon Moon- The Librarina: GOT AU, no GOT knowledge required. Lots of dramatic moments interspaced with some lovely tender ExR

Guided by a Beating Heart -torakowalski: my absolute FAVOURITE Enjolras centric angst fic. Lots of emotion, lots of friendship, will make you ugly sob

you and i walk a fragile line (is this the time it finally breaks)?- UnforgettableJoMarch: (WIP) I am so enjoying following along with this one. Heartbreaking plot with sublime execution and some brilliant lines, so looking forward to seeing this one develop

The Future's Owned By You and Me- quillsand: ENJOLRAS/FEUILLY ENJOLRAS/FEUILLY ENJOLRAS/FEUILLY WHAT MORE CAN I SAY. Absolutely fantastic rarer pair fic with as much (and maybe more) importance devoted to the activism as to the ship

Getting Fucked in Lingerie- downtheroadandupthehill: PWP. ahem. anyways.

(With a Jubilant Shout) They Will Come One and All- zade: PWP. AHEM. ANYWAYS.

True Blood AU-kjack89: Exactly what it sounds like. Vampire Grantaire and Human Enjolras shenanigans

words can be unwritten- defractum: my favourite soulmate au which makes me melt every time <3

Armillaria- RevocablePeril: THE MOST COURFIUS FIC OF ALL TIME. Lots of excellent Les Amis content in general. SUCH a good, massively underrated fic. 121 kudos??????????? You're all insane.

In An Age Without Heroes- ShitpostingfromtheBarricade: Gloryhole soulmates, the prison industrial complex, Oprah.

walls come tumbling down-reptilianraven: They're cute your honor. One of the only high school AUs I will abide by tbqh hehe

Oneshots:

What's a Bed Between Friends?- dannyPURO: if there's one thing you should know about me it's that I ADORE the there was only one bed trope

epiphany- Abidatchery: screaming crying throwing up that this isn't the fandom's most kudos'ed fic. Every word is expertly crafted and absolutely stunning

Vienna Roast- revolutionbarbie: cosy coffee shop au with a version of Enjolras we don't get to see but that I really enjoy

Out of Touch- ShameDumpster: LET ENJOLRAS GET LOVED YOU COWARDS

A Little More Lois Lane- stellatundra: Just a really funny and silly AU in which Grantaire is Superman

Love in a Coffee Shop-tellthemstories: an absolute fandom classic and rightly so. I've read this one so many times and every time there'll still be something that makes me laugh out loud

My anaconda don't want none (at all)-vamillepudding: v funny and sweet ace enj fic with hilarious triumvirate and exr dynamics

The Waiting is the Hardest Part-samyazaz: In this house, we absolutely love a sexy bet

Between Meetings and Midnight- PieceofCait: Enjolras cries after sex send tweet

A Bad Penny- PBJellie: Gay cowboys and sickfics are the ultimate combo for SURE

Leaves in the Void- myrmidryad: lots of emotion lots of friendship this one is so heavy but SO good you guys. It's also a Space AU I know we all love that <3

my heart's been borrowed (yours has been blue)-Petr1chor: P-tri is so good at writing fics where Enjolras is a complete dumbass and he wrote this one especially for me <3 <3 <3

fire in my hands- geode: This is my go to fic if I want a laugh. "Do you like parsnips?" "Yes they're my second favourite vegetable" iconic exchange god bless

I Would Do Anything For Love- Need_to_Comment_Rising: one of my fave ace Enjolras fics with lovely tender ExR. No I'm not biased because I worked on this series, don't be silly

Like Comfort, Like Solace, Like Relief- areyoumiserableyet: The sensation of coming home to the people you love after a long day <3

Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood- sonhoedesrazao: There should be more fics with oblivious to his own emotions Grantaire that's all I'm saying

Trying to Leave the Ground-barricadeur: rly comfy cosy smut fic

YAY ENJOY I'm gonna go lie down now god I hope I haven't forgotten anything lmfao

#fic recs #les mis #les mis fanfic #exr #enjolras #grantaire #and also other characters #god bless everyone who wrote these fics btw #also if you read these fics come scream to me about them

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narumi-gens · 2 years ago

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Drunk Mind, Sober Heart

Miya Atsumu x gn!Reader

summary: They say that drunk words are sober thoughts. Unfortunately for you, that means Atsumu is about to find out about your big, embarrassing secret.

warnings: pure fluff, reader is a drunk mess, mention of vomiting and alcohol, husband!atsumu, established relationship, you and atsumu are simps for each other

notes: we’re back on the haikyuu train! I’m actually not sure if I like this but just wanted to get it out of my wips since it was already 75% written.

words: 1.2k

minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not interact

Atsumu hadn’t left you alone for long, just long enough to grab his phone charger from the nightstand. He was gone for a minute, maybe two. What could go wrong in a minute?

Apparently a lot.

You’re still in the same spot that he left you. You’re still curled up on the bathroom floor next to the toilet. You’re still clutching tightly onto the pillow he gave you to keep you from being too uncomfortable on the hard tile.

But when he left, you were completely passed out, drunkenly snoring and giving him a short break from “rubbing your back and making sure that you’re throwing up in the toilet and not on the floor” duty.

Now, you’re sobbing loudly into your pillow as you lay in a puddle of water, having knocked over the uncapped bottle he had set aside for you.

The sight instantly has him panicking, dropping his charger onto the counter and kneeling down next to you in the puddle. He picks up the bottle and sets it aside, not that doing so is much use considering most of the water is now on the bathroom floor.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he tries to gently shush you. “What’s wrong? Do ya gotta puke again?”

It seems to be the wrong question to ask because it only has you crying harder.

“Baby, it’s okay,” he assures you, running his hand soothingly up and down your side.

“S’not!” you wail and Atsumu finds himself impressed by his own sense of hearing to have been able to comprehend what you’re saying through your sobs.

“Yeah, it is. C’mon, it’s alright,” he says, still doing his best to try and talk you down. “What’s wrong? Let me help.”

“No!” you continue to protest, burying your face even further into your pillow. Your sobs have devolved into loud, pathetic hiccups. “Don’t wanna tell you. S’embarrassing…”

“Ya don’t gotta feel embarrassed!” he says. “At least ya puked in the bushes and not in the Uber. Yer ahead of me on that one.”

“No! S’not that!” you argue, looking up from your pillow to give him a pitiful glare that makes you look like an angry kitten. Atsumu is overcome with the urge to grab his phone so he can take a picture but knows that it would send you into another fit of sobs.

“Then what is it?” he asks patiently and you flop onto your back, your head resting on your pillow as you frown at the ceiling.

“M’embarrassed,” you sniffle, tears continuing to leak from your eyes.

“Baby, about what?”

Your features scrunch together unattractively before you cover your face with your hands.

“I’m so in love with you that it’s embarrassing!” you cry, your voice muffled, and Atsumu is at a loss at your…confession. It takes a moment before he knows how to respond.

“…we’ve been married fer two years,” he says slowly, his eyebrows furrowing together. “I would hope ya love me.”

“You don’t get it!” you whine, dropping your hands and doing your best to sit up and face him, although you end up needing to rest your entire weight on the toilet. “It’s like I have this huuuuge crush on you.”

He can feel the grin threatening to break out across his lips and quickly bites down on the inside of his cheek before it can. Instead, he reaches out a hand to affectionately play with the ends of your hair only for you to weakly slap him away.

“Sometimes when you send me a text saying you love me, I squeal into a pillow,” you softly tell him through sniffles, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “And sometimes I just look through my pictures of you and get all flustered.”

The grin he was trying so hard to hold back begins to peek through and he has to slap a hand over his mouth to hide it. Thankfully, you’re too drunk to notice.

“And it’s so embarrassing to be such a mess in front of my crush,” you pout before wiping your messy face with the back of your wrist, not that it really does any good.

“Ya don’t gotta feel embarrassed about any of it,” he repeats with a fond look. “If anything, this makes me love ya even more.”

Your expression finally seems to soften, your drunken angst beginning to fade into something much more shy.

“Really?” you ask through another sniffle.

“Yeah, I promised to love ya in sickness and in health, didn’t I?” he smiles and you giggle.

But before he can make a dumb joke about drunkenness being the worst kind of sickness out there, a look that he’s become only too familiar with over the last few hours crosses your face. You rush to turn away from him and he’s back on “rubbing your back and making sure that you’re throwing up in the toilet and not on the floor” duty.

The next morning sees you doing better, but not by much. The lights in the apartment are all off and the blinds on all of the windows are closed. The only source of light comes from the tv, which is quietly playing some trashy reality show that’s ostensibly about selling real estate but is actually about who’s sleeping with the owner of the brokerage.

The duvet from your bed is wrapped around you like a burrito as you’re laid out pathetically on the couch with a sports drink clutched tightly in your grip like a lifeline. You’re grateful that Atsumu keeps so many of them in the refrigerator and you swear to yourself that you won’t make fun of him anymore for how much space they take up.

You’re roused from wallowing over your pitiful state when you hear the front door opening and you slouch further into the couch. But when Atsumu finally appears around the corner, your face lights up as you see that he’s proudly holding up a takeout bag coated in grease stains.

“I got ya just what the doctor prescribed,” he grins and you sit up as best you can with the blanket wrapped so tightly around you.

“Oh, you’re a godsend,” you moan as you grab the bag from his hands. You open it and happily inhale the scent of the burger and fries inside.

He preens at your praise and lifts your legs so that he can sit down beside you before setting them down in his lap. You’re too busy shoveling the fries into your mouth to even care. But after a few minutes, you feel his gaze on you.

When you look up, you freeze at the sight of him watching you with big heart eyes and a wide, dopey grin.

“What?” you ask him through an unattractive mouthful of half-eaten fries.

“Nothin’,” he shrugs. However, the look on his face says anything but and your eyes narrow suspiciously. “Just, I heard from a little birdie that ya got a pretty big crush.”

Your hand pauses in mid-air, halfway to shoving another handful of fries into your already full mouth. Atsumu’s grin grows wider at your reaction.

“Y’know, I got a pretty big crush too.”

All you can do is mutter in embarrassment what he thinks is, “shut up,” but sounds like “shha amph,” as you refuse to meet his gaze and Atsumu feels his crush on you growing bigger, even as he laughs obnoxiously in your face.

#tw vomit #tw alcohol #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #mel writes #drunk mind sober heart

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theprinceandagcd · 26 days ago

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20 Fanfic Author Questions

Thank you so much @anincompletelist and @caterpills for tagging me!! These are fun and I haven't done one in while, so :)

1. How many works on AO3?

77 !!

2. Total AO3 Word Count?

481,726

3. Top 5 fics by Kudos

but daddy, you love him

this is the first time I've felt the need to confess

we broke all the pieces (still wanna play the game)

can this be a real thing (can it?)

one single thread of gold tied me to you

4. What fandoms do you write for?

Red, White, and Royal Blue now! I have written for others in the past but I'm a hyperfixation girlie at my core so just that one :)

5. Do you respond to comments?

I haven't always, but I do now! Sometimes I get behind but I try to go through my inbox and knock some comments out at least once or twice a week.

6. Angstiest Ending?

I don't really do angsty/not happy endings - it's not in my capability, honestly? you can run (but only so far) was angsty up to VERY close to the ending but that's probably the best I can do

7. Fic with the Happiest Ending?

I ALMOST answered this with gay chicken just because they do get a... happy ending. i'm SORRY.

Probably the but daddy, you love him universe - the third installment especially is just sob-worthy happy. (although, perhaps that third installment isn't their final story, either)

8. Do you get hate?

I did get one guest comment once telling me to kill myself? But otherwise not really - I'm really grateful for it, too.

9. Do you write smut?

I do!! I didn't in previous fandoms and didn't when I started with RWRB, but I've got a few now and have a multichap coming soon that is VERY smutty. I've gotten a lot more comfortable with it and it's a nice tool to have, although works don't need smut to be good and I like choosing to do stories without it still, too.

10. Do you write crossovers?

I do not - the hyperfixation is too real.

11. Ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

A few, yeah!! it's super cool. I'm always very enthusiastically supportive of people doing this.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Not yet!! but there may be a doc that exists where someone says "okay hear me out" every five seconds

14. All time favourite ship?

excuse you

probably captain swan but don't tell firstprince i said that

15. WIPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

oooh. i have a handful of multichap ideas/outline docs that like, just odds are that not all of them get written. not sure which ones, but I'm sure at least one of them will wind up not working out.

16. Writing strengths?

Dialogue!! my go-to beta thinks it's because I did theater in college and took script writing classes which are dialogue heavy, but I LOVE putting dialogue together. sometimes when i'm in the process of writing, I'll do dialogue skeletons just to feel successful in writing and go back later to add exposition and fill everything out.

17. Writing Weaknesses?

other than having sort of favorite words that I tend to overuse, I think my main weakness is emotional weight in stories. I've read so many fics where I'm practically gasping for breath at the end because it's really hit me in the heart, and I just don't think my writing has that? I tend to think my best writing is when I'm being funny or cute, writing in banter and etc, and when I try to do something heavy or emotional it never feels like it's quite got the same punch to it as what I wanted.

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue?

Love reading it - I don't typically write it because of time and not knowing any languages other than English and American Sign Language - which isn't easy to put into a fic. I've looked up small lines before for specific purposes and checked with someone who knows the language, but it's not something I typically have the time to do right - and I am NOT going to do it wrong.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

oh my god. high school musical. don't fucking look at me.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Can I say a WIP that I haven't posted yet?? I'm gonna say a WIP I haven't posted yet :)

no pressure tags! @agostobuwan @bitbybitwrites @blueeyedgrlwrites @clockwrkpendrxgon @dreamtigress @everwitch-magiks @fckngyrs @firenati0n @fullsunsets @henryspearl @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine @itsmaybitheway @jmagnabo92 @kj-bee @miharaikko @milowren29 @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @nontoxic-writes @onthewaytosomewhere @orchidscript @pinkamour1588 @porcelainmortal @priincebutt @read-and-write- @softboynick @sophie1973 @stellarmeadow @suseagull5914 @thesleepyskipper @thighzp @thinkof-england @tinyarmedtrex @wordsofhoneydew

#fic games #writing games

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suzukiblu · 3 months ago

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WIP excerpt for sakoku_decree behind the cut; “YJ packs up and gets pupped”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“You appear to have been incorrect in that assumption,” Red Tornado says, tilting his head, and Kon doesn't know if Red Tornado thinks he's a bad omega or, like–a slut, or whatever, but . . . “If you ‘dunno’ if the material is sufficient for nesting, I will source additional options from what is available in the base, in addition to an interim supply of hydration and nutrition to provide for the time until the arrival of whoever you have invited to attend you for your presentation?”

Kon stares blankly at him for a moment, then buries his face in his hands and bursts into tears.

He's definitely still having the “overemotional” symptoms. Like–very definitely.

“. . . is that insufficient?” Red Tornado asks, and Kon just sobs.

Superman assumed he had–somebody, too. That there was . . . somebody. A pack he could go to.

But Superman didn’t ask him what he needed ‘til he could get back to that . . . that “pack”. Superman didn’t–offer him anything ‘til he could get back to that pack.

Didn’t even, like . . . fly him home or anything.

Which, like–obviously he didn’t. There is literally no reason he would. Kon’s not a fucking civilian and wasn’t hurt or in any danger and wasn’t, like–he didn’t need–he doesn’t need–the whole stupid world needs Superman.

So he can’t.

He–he can’t.

“S’not–s’not ‘insufficient’,” he croaks past the tears, keeping his face in his hands. “That–that’d be–you don’t have to–to do that.”

“Is whoever you have requested attend you for your presentation due to arrive within the next fifteen to twenty minutes?” Red Tornado asks.

“N-no,” Kon stutters. “That’s . . . no. Nobody’s gonna . . . gonna be here in . . . in fifteen minutes.”

It’s not technically a lie. Nobody’s gonna be here in fifteen minutes because nobody’s gonna be here at all, unless the Super-Cycle counts. Which–Kon doesn’t even know if the Super-Cycle understands, like–presentation or anything, or . . . or offering him a place to nest, or . . . anything. But like–it’s not technically a lie, that nobody’s gonna be here in fifteen minutes.

Kon sniffles wetly, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. Red Tornado makes an electric humming sound that sounds kinda like a fridge compressor or something kicking up into gear a little harder.

“Then I will do it anyway, unless you would prefer I not,” he says.

Kon sniffles.

“I–no,” he manages roughly, hunching in on himself a little more. He’d be fucking mortified about it if he weren’t all overemotional and stupid right now, probably, and he’s definitely gonna be mortified about it later, but . . . but omegas are . . . are supposed to . . . supposed to be like that, when they’re in heat. And he’s–he’s gonna be that. “I wouldn’t . . . it’s–it’s like . . . it’s okay, I mean. I wouldn’t–mind, if you . . .”

He’d cry a lot harder, probably, but–no, he wouldn’t mind.

#kon el #conner kent #superboy #red tornado #young just us #young justice #wip: yj packs up and gets pupped #omegaverse #sakoku_decree

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paperyowl · 2 months ago

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Sorting through my drafts/WIPS and found this.

Bucktommy, hurt/comfort, mentions of death (Philipp Buckley), Gen.

Tommy wakes up in a dark room that is too quiet. Evan's side of the bed is empty. That is what woke him. For a moment, Tommy listens, but he can't hear anything from the bathroom. When he reaches over, the sheets are cool.

He gets up, following the faint glow of the light down the hall. Tommy finds Evan standing at the counter, holding onto his phone like a lifeline. But he isn't looking at the screen, fixating on some distant point on the wall.

Evan looks lost.

Tommy moves before he decides to do so. He stops short of reaching out, trying to soften his approach. When he touches Evan's shoulder, Evan jumps.

He's never seen Evan startle like that. It hurts to have Evan flinch away from his touch. But Tommy only lifts his hands in what he hopes is a calming gesture, a universal way of saying 'I mean no harm'. Tommy knows this isn't about him at all.

"Evan," he says softly.

Evan's eyes are unfocused even when he looks at him as if he is looking through Tommy, not at him. The phone is still in his hands. Tommy reaches for him again, telegraphing every movement - and curls his fingers around Evan's shaking hands slowly.

"Sweetheart," he tries, and Evan blinks a few times.

"Oh," Evan breathes. "Tommy."

There is nothing that Tommy wants to do more than drag Evan into his embrace, but he makes himself open his arms instead and let the choice remain with Evan. The next moment, he feels himself exhale when Evan firmly folds against his chest, shuddering out a sigh, fingers clenching in the fabric over Tommy's back.

A thump behind him. Evan stiffens, turning his head.

"Shit-" Tommy holds him tighter when Evan moves to pick up the phone he dropped. It doesn't matter. After a beat, Evan relaxes in his hold again.

Tommy slowly coaxes Evan moving over to the couch. He grabs the blanket, which he keeps thrown over the armrest, vaguely worried about Evan being cold. Evan accepts it and settles next to Tommy.

They talk in hushed tones, snippets of conversation about whether Evan is warm enough and how long he'd slept. Tommy wants Evan to talk in his own time. It doesn't take long until he does.

"My dad died."

Tommy knows a little about the Buckleys, but it's not enough to be sure what is the right reaction here except for telling Evan how sorry he is. Evan gives a small, almost imperceptible nod before reaching for his hands, which Tommy gladly offers up. He starts running his fingers over Tommy's knuckles, his palm like an elaborate game of twiddling his thumbs.

"I don't know how to feel," Evan admits.

He nods again when Tommy offers that he can feel a lot of different ways about it. As Tommy tries to give him space to think, Evan changes between swaying into Tommy and drawing back to create his own space. Tommy lets him do that, too, opening his arms and releasing him every time Evan finds a new thought to focus on.

"Mum said it was a quick," Evan says, not quite looking at Tommy. He doesn't elaborate, and Tommy doesn't press.

The next time he moves in close to Tommy, Evan starts crying softly. He is helpless to do anything but run his hands over Evan's back in long sweeps that he hopes are soothing. Tommy aches for Evan, desperate to comfort him. But this isn't about him.

The next time Evan draws back, it's "He probably didn't even know anything was wrong", then "He was dead before the ambulance arrived", and "Mum is with her sister". It seems like Evan is sorting through all kinds of different things, trying to make sense of them.

Tommy knows that pain and sadness can look very different in different people. He's seen it on the job, where he had to calm down people who were sobbing uncontrollably and some who were silent in shock. He's seen anger, screaming, and weeping—and he's seen laughter, too.

So when Evan goes from detached back to more settled in his skin and then promptly starts a hiccuping kind of laugh—something that sounds so deflecting, which is so very Evan—Tommy isn't surprised about it.

He'd comforted people before, seen grief in all its forms. But this—Evan, his Evan, breaking apart—was something else entirely. Tommy's heart is shattering when Evan says, "I should be able to handle this better," with a self-deprecating smile on his face.

"Evan," Tommy says. "Allow yourself to feel whatever it is you feel."

Evan tilts his head a little, eyes slipping away. He does this when he disagrees with something Tommy says but knows there is no way he can win an argument. This time, Tommy can't allow it.

"Look at me," Tommy asks, and Evan sighs before he does. "You are allowed to feel this way."

The twitch at the corners of Evan's lips is almost a smile, but it's not quite there anymore. Evan's lips are trembling again when he asks, "Can you hold me?" and Tommy has him tucked right against his heart before he even finishes the question.

#bucktommy #tevan #bucktommy fic #a bit sad #owlish writings #evan buck buckley #tommy kinard #ficlet #fanfic

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ladykailitha · 1 year ago

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Sweet Home Indiana

You guys are getting an absolute feast this week. Two chapters on regular posting days, the twenty snippets you got on WIP Wednesday, this, and of course more Across a Crowded Room tomorrow.

Enjoy!

Based off a post I saw on here (and didn't save for some reason) about the legal tangles gay people had to go through when gay marriage was federally legalized because a lot of them married different people in different states because their marriage in California wasn't legal in the other states and just never bother to get a divorce.

And my brain let's Steddify this shit Sweet Home Alabama style!

So here we go:

Eddie and Steve got married in Boston when Massachusetts made gay marriage legal. But they broke up when Eddie went to California with his band.

Cue Eddie going around and having a couple of really short marriages in different states. Tommy in New York for three months when the band was in New York recording an album. Billy in Hawaii for two weeks while Eddie was there on vacation.

Neither of them really mattered or were serious. Because they were only legal in the state they were performed in so Eddie didn't think anything about it.

Fast forward to a decade later, gay marriage is legalized across the country. Corroded Coffin has broken up and Eddie has a job as a tattoo artist.

Eddie goes to get a marriage license in Seattle where he's been living for the past five years. And is denied on the account he's a polygamist. He's still married to three different men in three different states.

Fuck.

His fiancee Chrissy is a legal assistant at a law firm so she has her bosses draw up annulments for Eddie's three marriages and has them sent out to all three of Eddie's exes.

Including Steve.

When Steve gets his papers, he's pissed. He hunts down Eddie's number and calls. Tells him that he can do the proper thing and tell him to his face he wants a divorce. None of this annulment bullshit like their relationship didn't matter. But until then he can fuck off.

Now Eddie's frantic. Because the reason why he and Chrissy were getting married in the first place is that her student visa ended in May and her work visa has been delayed three times. They have to get married otherwise she'll be deported. And no just a little across the border to Canada either, she's from Barbados.

He tells her the truth about Steve and how they were actually married for almost two years before Eddie left. They had been living in their home town of Hawkins where their marriage wasn't legal any way, but meant something to them.

Chrissy is upset he didn't tell her this sooner, because yeah, that's whole other kettle of fish. So she has her bosses draft a divorce decree and words it a whole lot nicer than the legalese of the annulment.

Eddie packs his bags heads to back to Hawkins and back to Steve. He has one week to convince Steve to sign the divorce papers.

He gets into to town and finds that Steve is the proud owner of the best bakery in town. And the best selling item is the chunky mint brownies Steve made just for Eddie when they first got together. Eddie gets a little sentimental about it, and Steve stubbornly refuses to sign the papers.

They go back and forth for a few days. They tumble into bed and Eddie wakes up, he finds Steve gone and the papers signed.

Only now that Steve has signed them, he doesn't want that anymore. So he breaks down crying and sobbing. He calls Chrissy and now Chrissy is as distraught as he is.

After they hang up Chrissy calls the bakery and Robin answers. Chrissy really needs to speak to Steve.

Robin tells her Steve can't come to the phone because he is covered in flour and can't because he'll get it messy. Chrissy asks if she calls his cell phone if Robin could hold it up to his ear, because she really needs to talk to him. But Robin refuses to budge. She banned Steve from having a cell phone around their giant stand mixer because he has lost three of them to the beast.

Robin offers to pass long the message, though. And Chrissy has to be content with that. She explains who she is and why Eddie needed the divorce. She tells Robin about Eddie's breakdown that morning and how he really didn't want to divorce Steve.

Robin and her get to talking about their best friends, missed connections and themselves.

While the girls are talking Eddie is having another freak out because he put the envelope containing the divorce papers in the mail box but realized he forgot to sign them himself. He needs to get them back so he can sign them, but he's afraid of getting arrested for tampering a federal post box trying to get the papers back.

He's near hysterics when Nancy finds him. She's in town visiting her family. And she helps him get the papers back by talking to the post office and they open the box and he gets them back.

She takes him to lunch to calm his clearly frazzled nerves. He tells her everything. And she tells him that while Eddie was in New York, Steve had gone to see him and when he saw how much bigger and better the big city was, Steve decided if he was going to win Eddie back, he had to make something of himself. And thus began the bakery. He almost had enough to fly to Seattle and woo Eddie. But then this happened.

Now Eddie is really stricken. He wants Steve so bad, but Chrissy is out of options.

Nancy gives his arm a squeeze and Eddie heads back to the hotel he'd been staying at.

He finally looks at his phone and sees a lot of messages and texts from Chrissy begging him not mail the divorce papers yet, she has a plan. Cue Eddie having a final breakdown in his hotel room, sobbing and wrung out.

There is a knock on his door and Eddie is confused the only person who knew his hotel and room number was Chrissy and she's in Seattle. But he gets up to answer and suddenly has an armful of Steve Harrington. Who is also a sobbing wreck.

After both of them calm down, Steve tells him he only signed the papers because he wanted Eddie to be happy. And if that meant being divorced from him, he'd do it.

But Eddie's isn't happy. He's sad and hurt and lonely. Steve is too.

They fall asleep in each other's arms, placing their trust in their best friends.

The next morning they are woken up by Robin and surprise surprise, Chrissy.

They explained that since gay marriage is legal everywhere now, Robin is going to marry Chrissy. And she'll swap places with Eddie. She'll go back to Seattle with Chrissy and Eddie can stay here with Steve.

It's perfect.

They get a marriage license and walked down the courthouse where Eddie and Steve are their witnesses. While the judge is talking, Steve pulls out Eddie's old ring. The one he returned to Steve when he moved out to be with his band.

He slips it back on Eddie's ring finger where it belongs. They kiss at the same time Chrissy and Robin do.

A couple years later Chrissy becomes a lawyer and her and Robin move back to Hawkins where Eddie has opened his own tattoo parlor, right next to Steve's bakery.

And they all live happily ever after.

ETA: Full Story here.

Permanent Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes

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