#I wanna drink but alcohol just became a fear food somehow

[carnage-cathedral]

fuuuuucccckkkkkk

[irisintheafterglow]

(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)🌷✨🩷🍪 Greetings Author-nim

Can I please request (⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠メ⁠)

(OPLA Zoro x You) Where Reader is an Assassin or Ninja and is a Pirate hunter, When Zoro used to be one too, they would always compete who gets the target first. Sometimes Zoro wins, sometimes reader.

So, imagine Reader's reaction when they saw Zoro with the crew.

And also, Luffy, somehow by some miracle with his own style of talk-no-jutsu managed to convince reader to join them(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥. Hope u have a great day and it's okay if u don't want to do this. I'll understand.

baby, let the games begin

wc: 2k (surprise, shawty)

cw/tags: gn!reader, swearing, canon-typical violence, mentions of drinking and alcohol, pining pining pining pining PINING

note: hi love, thank you so much for your request!! i hope you like this because i certainly love writing for this stupid himbo man

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

Honor be damned, you really wanted to kill him. 

“Dirty play, demon,” you huff irritatedly, scowling at the asshole who skewered your target before you could. In a single clean slash, the head is relieved of its body and unceremoniously kicked into a bag. “We both know that one was mine.”

“Better luck next time.” Asshole. Stupid, selfish, infuriatingly attractive asshole. A million different ways you could end his life flashed through your mind and, with his back turned to you, became more of a possibility the longer you sat in your disappointment. The dock creaks beneath his receding footsteps and you spit a curse under your breath. The head now bouncing around in the pirate hunter’s hand would have had you living comfortably for months, not to mention buying some shelter for the stray dogs wandering your home island. Monsoon season was coming and you didn’t have nearly enough space to keep all of them dry. Finding food that wasn’t old bread and horse balls was hard in itself and shelter was just another task added to the to-do list. “You’re not gonna try and take it from me?” 

“Why would I? You killed him; you get the bounty,” you reply scornfully, praying that whoever came up with the idea of hunter’s honor is torn to shreds by an octopus. “Guess it is your turn,” you concede reluctantly and take note of the blood dripping from the dirty fabric sack as he reapproaches. You’d have to clean your shoes when you were done. “I did take that guy from you in Flamingo Village, last week.” 

“The one with the big, ugly hat,” he confirms and you don’t budge when he stands right in front of you. He had pretty eyes, you’d give him that. Too bad you wanted to slam your fist into his nose. “I was mad about that one.”

“Well, you got this one. Aren’t you gonna cash ‘em in?”

“I will. I’m just curious,” he says and his expression is unreadable. It bordered on amusement and suspicion with a little bit of awe. “You could have killed me a million times since I killed the target.” Already thought that, buddy. “Why didn’t you?”

“Like I said, hunter’s honor–”

“No,” he shakes his head decidedly and you narrow your eyes. “You’ve been following this guy for four days, watching other hunters fail to bring him in. My question is, why do you need this bounty so badly, and why aren’t you willing to kill me over it?”

“Technically, that’s two questions,” you deadpan and your heart does an unwanted little stutter when he scoffs, the tiniest smile pulling at his mouth. “If you really wanna know why I need it, it’s ‘cause I need to take care of some friends back home.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but you also didn’t need the most feared hunter in the seas knowing that you needed the money to buy squeaky toys and dog beds. 

“Those friends aren’t worth killing for?”

“It’s sounding like you want me to kill you,” you fire back incredulously. “Do I need to worry about you, Zoro?” 

“Look, all I’m saying is, all other hunters would be leaping at my throat as soon as I take their kill. I just don’t understand why you won’t, especially if it’s worth four days of stalking.” 

“Maybe I like playing this little game,” you admit. It’s no secret to you that your job becomes incredibly boring at times. All the other hunters you come across take their jobs too seriously and believe that they’re purging the seas of evil. You, however, knew that the real evil was pacing around ivory towers and putting up the wanted posters. When you first met Zoro, it seemed like he didn’t take his job seriously at all. He killed like it was breathing and remained unamused at the melodramatic theatrics of flashier hunters. You ran into each other often because, besides being the only ones who survive their hunts, you were the top-earning hunters of your generation and ended up following the same pace every time. “I take a bounty; you take a bounty. I try to beat the pirate hunter at his own game; he throws a fit when I’m faster than him.”

“But, today I was faster than you,” he corrects and you stick your tongue out at him in defiance. “Who’s throwing a fit now?”

“Get out of my sight, demon,” you frown but you can’t hold it for long. It becomes a tired, melancholy smile and you start to make your way back to the town to book passage home. “Hope you enjoy all that Berry.” 

“Let me buy you a drink with it before you go,” he calls after you and you freeze where you stand. “Consolation for kicking your ass this time around.” You shoot him a scathing look over your shoulder and take the bait. 

“I did all the dirty work for you, asshole, so it better be three drinks at the least.” He chuckles softly under his breath and you roll your eyes, letting him catch up to you before heading to the nearest bar together. “I hate you so much.” 

“No, you don’t.”

As time passed and you ran into him more during your hunts, that hatred turned into something different, an annoying feeling of excitement every time you heard a sword unsheathed or spotted someone with green hair. You found yourself checking your watch when you were ahead of him, counting down the hours until he caught up. You knew the sound of his footsteps and the rhythm of his breathing and memorized how the sun hit his eyes down to the iris. Sometimes, you’d work with him directly and split the bounty evenly once it was completed. During conversations to kill time, though he never admitted it, he liked being around you as often as he was. Eventually, you told him about your furry friends back on the island and started marking the places you’d been with a hasty drawing of a dog. It became part of your routine and the time that it took for him to catch up to you decreased exponentially as a result. You’re easier to follow, is what he said. On a particular mission where you were unusually behind, you were delighted to find his gross attempt at mimicking the mark scratched into the wooden bar counter. 

You lose touch with him after a year or so of working together and you don’t expect it to hurt as much as it did. Word floated around that he was captured by Marines and posted up in Shells Town, but the same mouths reported that he escaped with pirates the following day. None of it sounded like him and it reminded you that you really didn’t know him at all. Still, you marked that silly dog into every barstool and backdoor you came across as you fell back into the same boring routines. 

Taking a rest day at a floating restaurant called Baratie, you think you’ve found the perfect spot to scratch into the counter when you realize that someone has already done it for you. It was horrendous and nearly incomprehensible, but you choke back a sob when you run your thumb over the mangled wood. There was only one person who could have drawn the little dog so badly.

And it’s like your body senses him before your mind does. 

In an instant, you’re hyper fixated on the familiar rhythm of his boots and the soft noise as his swords clank together with every step. There are four others with him, but you know his approach like the back of your hand. A boy in a straw hat whom you recognize from wanted posters rushes the bar, loudly requesting a glass of milk for himself and the finest rum for his swordsman companion. When he slides into the seat next to you, you can barely look at him, rendered defenseless from the conflict of emotions stirring in your mind. Thousands of questions were screaming to be answered but you couldn’t even open your mouth. The alcohol in your half-finished glass is all you can see. 

“You found me,” he murmurs, flagging down the bartender and asking for a bottle of whatever you’re drinking.

“I wasn’t looking for you,” you reply just as quietly, watching his hand carefully replenish your glass before filling his own and downing it in a few swallows. You stop him from pouring another with a light hand on his shoulder and he wordlessly sets down the bottle, making you smile softly. “You still drink too much.”

“I don’t have you to slow me down,” he replies without hesitation, glancing at your fingertip as it traces the mark he made on the wood. “I’ve been putting those everywhere since I joined up with Luffy. Figured we’d run into each other at some point.” 

“Luffy,” you echo. “That’s your pirate captain?” The irony of your situation escapes neither of you. If you were smart, you’d have every single one of them dead and bouncing around a burlap sack, just like the pirate all those years ago. But, just the same as the first time, you were stopped by a profound desire to be closer to Zoro. 

“He’s not like other pirates. Not like the ones you and I know.” 

“I’ll let the Marines know next time I bring in a head, then,” you laugh humorlessly, feeling the rum burn down your throat when you take another sip. You feel his eyes watching you carefully but you don’t look back at him. “I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to hear that.”

“They don’t have to hear anything,” he says in a low tone, one that sends goosebumps up your spine and has your heart beating a little faster. “They don’t have to hear anything from you ever again.”

“You’re not saying…”

“That's exactly what I’m saying.” 

“You want me to just switch sides like it’s nothing?”

“This job has been nothing to you from the beginning, nothing but a way to feed strays that, thanks to you, have loving homes,” he reminds you and you exhale deeply. He was right, but part of you wanted vengeance for all the times you secretly wished he was still with you. “So, come with me.”

“Zoro, I–”

“You know, I’ve missed you so much I can’t sleep,” he shakes his head and sighs in defeat. “Every time we dock at a new city, I’m hoping you’re on a hunt because, as much as I care for them, they’ll never know me the way you do.” He looks back at his crew with something like sad fondness in his eyes. They wouldn’t ever know him the way you did, as a bounty hunter with no real place to call home and no real people to call friends. “It gets lonely when you’re not forced to be alone anymore.”

“And it’s lonely when you are forced to,” you add. “It’s lonely either way–”

“But I’d rather be that way with you,” he concludes. “It’s not bad when I’m with you.” You pause, collecting your thoughts and calculating how much money you’d have if you suddenly abandoned your current line of work. It was risky, sure, but something about risking it on Zoro made it feel a little less dangerous. “Your silence tells me I convinced you.”

“I’m not the one you need to convince; it’s your captain you should be talking to.”

“Trust me, he’s the least of our problems.” As if to drive home his point, a choir of cheers rises up from behind you as a loud belch sounds through the harbor. 

“‘Our’ as in the crew, or ‘our’ as in you and I?”

“It’s always been you and I, hasn’t it?”

“It always will be,” you promise, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. He’s warm and safe and everything you were needing. “But, I need to teach you how to draw a better dog.” He hums in agreement, downing another glass contentedly. 

“Yeah, you need to teach me how to draw a better dog.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[ohmygillygoshoppler]

Let's hear them secret scientist headcannons, Ma. Pretty please 🙏🥺

huehuheuheuhwlhbsjhbclah~ y’all know what it is, mostly rambling I wrote most of this waiting for the dentist lol

Drew (Audrey do not call her that omg Saturday)

Mama’s albino. Isee it with my eyes and just feel it in my bones. She’s pale, her hair is pale, I she even had baby blues in TGIS so, yeah. 

Drew isn’t a huge fan of chocolate, opposites since Mom Monday had a thing for cocoa. Maybe she doesn’t have a thing for sweets in general? Like I can see Drew as more of a FoodSnack person rather than SweetSnack person. She’ll be like, “I want a snack,” And spend like 2 hours prepping the stuff for a food item that will be gone in 20 minutes and somehow, she’ll find a way to convince Doc to “help” with the cleanup after.

She always wanted a big family, But only managed to have Zak. She loves her family regardless, it's just not the way she thought they'd be. I mean, come on; Her and Doc are so romantic all the time, like there’s no way they woulda stopped at just one. If she could have given Zak a sibling, she would have, but it wasn’t in the cards. So, adoption, lmao.

My girl is a mystic through and through but she is not mystically inclined. She could tear out her hair and make a deal with the devil, and still not be able to conjure her own magic at all, but she is so well versed in it, you’d think she was a sorcerer or something. (Maybe she could, oh I dunno, help her magical buddies out with that know-how, huh?)

Doc “Solomon” Saturday

My guy has some serious PTSD and OCD issues that he hasn’t quite sorted out, and I’ll bet he’s scared to go into it given all the times he’s started talking about it, only to immediately shut himself up about it.

Like, seriously, my man needs a therapist.

I’m laughing and wringing my hands together like Argost himself thinking about all the fun times we’re gonna have with mr. Magic Doesn’t Exist now that he’s gotta help his new Angel Daughter find her friends. Sorry Solomon, but you’re gonna have an aneurysm.

Doyle Blackwell  **Professional Uncle

Such a cool dude, he can’t drink alcohol because he’s too cool to get buzzed (he's allergic to alcohol and will turn beet red after one drink help this poor man)

I get a lot of, “I dont deserve an apartment,” vibes from this guy so I say he needs more “Chillin at home with the fam,” And less “Shitty hostels wherever the cheapest.” Also man needs a gf (or bf, ffs nobody want him fr!!11!)

He's bi, and I know cuz he told me lmao

Paul Cheechoo (Uncle Bear!👏🏼 Uncle Bear! 👏🏼Uncle Bear!👏🏼)

Okokokokok, so I am super super projecting here because Cheechoo deadass reminds me of an uncle who is A.) also native af, we’re not Inuit but were fuckin n8v; and B.) also a fuckin geologist lesgoooooo

So guys got a big family, huge actually. Lots of cousins and nieces and nephews and aunties and uncles and such- making it a bit hard and a bit sad keeping the whole Secret Scientist thing away from his family. Especially after the Weird world incident when he became withdrawn from them, fearing Argost might do something horrible to his kin. So, he kept mostly to himself, confiding only in his fellow scientists.

I feel like his sarcasm and friendly demeanor is so sweet and endearing, especially for someone so friggin big, I mean good god- Look at this man. The friendly giant trope always gets me, so what? BUT! That being said, I’d like to think that sometimes my guy forgets how big he is… Like, we’ve seen how this guy gets tossed around like a ragdoll, maybe he also forgets he’s a brick shithouse, given all the times he’s gotten his ass whooped.

Man is Golden Retriever coded, and I wanna eat him alive for it./pos

Arthur Fuckin Beeman

My man! *kills him again and again and again and again an-*

Also, I love how we all saw this man, we all looked at each other, and we all said, “Yeah, he's autistic af.” Like, it's very clear that this man’s brain works… differently from others.

My brother once said, Liaos from Dungeon Meshi if he didn’t want to eat the aliens he just wanted to hang out and honestly…. Werk.

Does this man deserve an arc? Not really, but do I wanna put him in a few fucked up situations? Hang him upside down and shake him till all his tokens fall out? Maybe. Maybe Zak’ll help me, too. Shit…

Miranda Grey (Big Grey)

Ooooooohohohohohohohohoooo~ We hardly got anything with you, Doctor. Which means I can do whatever, and I both hate and love that-

I know you love your sister~ I know you’re sad about her betrayal~~ I know you’re hurting, girly, I know your devastated inside and you can’t do anything about it because so much shit is falling apart around you and now your sister fucked over the only people you can call friends, fuck you Miranda! Eat shit and die! ILY!!

I reeeeeeaaaaly think she’s guilty about what she’s done to the Saturdays, especially Zak, so maybe she might try and say or do something to try and make amends, but how? Thats a good question… I wanna know too, lmao.

Abbey Grey (Little Grey)

Ooooooooooooooooh~~~

I have plans for you, stupid bitch……

Agent Ex husband

The scariest mfer in all existence, most stifled man in all existence, omg. If War were ever made a fucking human, Epsilon would be his fate, and holy fuck- Yeah. Stoic? Check. Bound by a strict code of ethics/honor? Check. Big As Shit? Check. Scary????? Umm, yeah. My mans a Horseman.

Wants to be loved. Wants to rest. Wants to have a cigarette for the first time in years. Wants some coffee with extra cream and sugar. Does he deserve it? No,not really. But he does need it. His soul needs a good kneading, like dough.

However, he is fucked up for the way he raised Francis and how he’s always shutting hom down and telling him how his thoughts don’t matter like, damn, just tell the boy he aint shit why dont you-

I feel like, if I give Francis an arc, Epsilon should have one too. I wanna know more about him- surprise surprise- and what makes him tick. We see in the show that there is some care for Francis, we see as much when he gets so mad at Francis for not quickly following his instructions, but that begs the question; does he actually care, or is he protecting his interests, so to speak? Lots to learn, lots to pick apart.

[hatsukeii]

I may be drunk but I know what I'm saying with Kags?

I’m back from my hibernation:D

I have a oneshot idea omg okay

Here it goes-

Fluffy shit with little to no angst for once:D

Warnings: Underage drinking (Well not really Kags is like 15 or 16 I think it’s f i n e)

Sigh. You should’ve known Nishinoya would’ve spiked the fruit punch. This Christmas party was about to become an absolute shitshow.

You’ve known Kageyama for years, being one of the few people that introduced him to the oh so wonderful sport of volleyball. You guys were very close, sharing even the tiniest secrets with each other. He relied on you like nobody else. With his parents constantly busy with work, and his sister busy with school, there was no one he could talk to, except you. You were there for him through thick and thin. When his grandfather passed away? He sobbed into you shoulder after the funeral. When you guys got into Karasuno together? He was ecstatic. It took a while for you to register the feelings that had slowly developed with time. Till this day, you were too timid and anxious to ever reveal them to anyone, fearing word would eventually spread the blueberry boy.

Nishinoya decided to hold a huge Christmas party on Christmas Eve, hoping the entire volleyball team could countdown together. By the entire volleyball team, I mean the ENTIRE VOLLEYBALL TEAM. He even invited Coach Ukai and the three managers- Kiyoko, Yachi, and you. The only reason he didn’t invite Takeda sensei was because he had to celebrate with his family all the way in Osaka. He prepped all the food and drinks, which were laid out on a long table. Everyone was buzzing with excitement and anticipation for midnight. However, before midnight came, everyone was already starving. Half the food got wiped out in half an hour, except for the huge bowl of fruit punch that proudly stood in the middle of the table. That remained almost untouched by the most of the first years, while the second and third years took little amounts of it every time they wanted some. You see, all the first years had a taste of it, but all distinguished the distinct taste of alcohol that was added to it, and so decided to not risk it. Well, all the first years except, of course, Kageyama. You didn’t know how, but your dense, somewhat innocent childhood friend was chugging down cup after cup of fruit punch as the others stared amusedly. “He’s gotta be either stupid, or just completely done with life to drink that shit. Or both.” Tsukishima snickered, hands on his hips as he side eyed Yamaguchi, who was giggling along. You were contemplating between telling him about the rum that was in the punch, and letting him continue to drink the punch obliviously. You had your head in you hand as you laughed under your breath. “Y/n, you’re not gonna stop him?” Hinata asked, poking your shoulder. “You know what? I kinda wanna see what happens later, I’ll let this happen.”

Bad idea.

By the time Kageyama had finished his tenth cup, Nishinoya sauntered over to him to break the news.

“Kageyama, you do know that has rum in it, right?”

Kageyama’s eyes widened, spitting out the fruit punch he’d been enjoying.

“WHAT? I’VE HAD LIKE AT LEAST SEVEN CUPS OF THAT! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME EARLIER?”

“You’ve actually had ten Tobio, I just didn’t tell you.” You finally let out a hearty laugh, revealing everything.

“Y/N HOW COULD YOU?”

“Sorry, I wanted to see what was gonna happen next.” You continued to cackle with the others, feeling slightly bad for Kageyama.

At this point, the blueberry haired boy’s face was tinted red as he stumbled around a bit, much to everyone’s expectations. In other words, it was absolutely hilarious. Never had you ever even seen him trip over air. And yet here he was, taking off the two sweaters he was wearing because apparently it was “too hot.” It was -2°C outside. There was only one warmer in Nishinoya’s house. He hastily stuffed the two sweaters into his bag, before stumbling over to the couch and plopping down on it, mumbling incoherently to himself as everyone else went on with their business. You, being the slightly worried friend, excused yourself from the weird conversation you were having with Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, and took a spot next to Kageyama. “Y/n...? Where are we?” You chuckled to yourself a bit, playing with his hair. “We’re at Nishinoya’s party, and your dumbass drank ten full cups of spiked fruit punch.” He laughed at himself a bit, coughing right afterwards as you pat his back. “You feeling okay? You’re not feeling feverish or anything? You want me to take you home first?” Kageyama stirred a bit, before nodding his head, giving you a lazy thumbs up. You smiled to yourself, taking in the rare sight of a drunk Kageyama, before snapping a photo of him, half passed out and red as a tomato.

Not long passed before the countdown took place. Kageyama was somehow still drunk, and was now doing weird dance moves in the middle of the house to the music that blasted through the speakers. The dance moves consisted of moonwalk attempts, the renegade, various other tiktok dances, the whip nae nae, the meat dance, various Fortnite dances, etc. “Woo damn Kageyama, didn’t know you were a dancer! Maybe I should spike my drinks more when he comes over-” “Nishinoya, no. Label the spiked drinks next time please.” “Yes mother Suga.” You were laughing you ass off on the couch as Kageyama danced with Hinata, who was trying his best not to trip over the table. You were filming this all down for... future uses. “Guys, settle down, it’s two minutes before midnight, we should go onto the roof and wait for the countdown.” Daichi suggested, all the students and Coach Ukai heading upstairs. You walked over to Kageyama, grabbing his sleeve as you dragged him towards the stairs.

“Tobio, we should go upstairs-”

“Waaaaait.”

You heaved a sigh, turning around to face the boy.

He slowly inched towards you, picking up the pace as he neared the wall next to the stairs, pinning you right there, his arm next to your head.

“Wh-what the fuck, Kageyama? Cmon, we gotta join the others on the roof-”

“Do you like me?”

You froze, not knowing how to react to such an explicit question. Your mouth hung open as your words got stuck in your throat.

“I-I uh-”

From upstairs, you heard Nishinoya’s voice yelling to downstairs.

“Yo Kageyama! Y/n! Get up here! It’s a minute to midnight!”

Kageyama rolled his eyes at the source of the sound, focusing back on your now pink face. Footsteps could be heard from the staircase as Nishinoya peeped his head at you two, his eyes widening in shock as you sent him a panicked look. The dual haired boy then zoomed back up the stairs, starting the countdown from fifty.

“Fifty!”

“Y/n, just answer me. Yes, or no?” Kageyama urged on, his voice becoming somewhat desperate.

You continued to stare at him, your mind completely blank. You were feeling very, very hot as you sweat a bit nervously.

“Forty!”

Kageyama looked to the ground, squeezing his eyes shut, before snapping back up to look at your figure, nervously pinned up against the wall.

“You know what? Fuck it. If you’re not the one in love with the other then I am. I don’t know how to say it, nor do I know what I’m gonna do next, but I just had to let you know. I’m gonna go upstairs now, bye.” He spilled out, choking back a tiny, almost unnoticeable sob as he slowly turned around, heading to the staircase.

“Thirty!”

“Tobio wait.”

You grabbed onto his hoodie, forcing him to face you as a stray tear dropped from his eye.

“You’re for real right now? There’s no way, you’re probably just drunk, so don’t worry about it!” You tried to play it off with a stifled laugh. Kageyama furrowed his eyebrows as his eyes bore into yours.

“I may be drunk, but I know what I’m saying.”

“Twenty!”

Your eyes softened as you let out a sigh, grabbing his hands from his hoodie pocket as you neared his hunched over figure.

You leaned into his ear on your tippy toes, trying to keep your balance as you whispered. “Well in that case, don’t worry. You’re not the only one in love.” Before planting a light kiss on his temple. The tips of his ears went redder as his mouth hung open, registering the shock that entered his body.

“Ten!”

Kageyama snapped himself out of his mini trance by slapping himself in the face. “So, now what?” You rolled your eyes, before wrapping your arms around his neck. “What do you think Tobio?”

“Five!”

You slowly pulled his head down, letting your foreheads touch as you enjoyed the warmth he radiated.

“Four!”

You slowly tilted your head, letting him do the same as you both leaned in.

“Three,”

He whispered, smiling softly as he let his hand travel up to your face, planting soft strokes on your cheek.

“Two,”

Both your faces were now dangerously close to each other���s. You could smell whiffs of fruit punch, mint, and a slight tint of alcohol lacing his warm breath as it fanned over your face.

“One.”

Once he finally counted that down, he let his lips graze yours in a soft, yet intimate kiss. One of his hands continued to stroke your cheek while the other led its way down to the small of your back. All the cheers from the roof became pure white noise as you both let everything that was bottled up out in your little bubble of emotion. You slightly giggled into the kiss, tiny breaths tickling Kageyama’s face just like how his bangs sweeped against your forehead. Your hands found their way into his hair as you fiddled with the dark strands, feeling how fluffy his hair actually was in your fingertips, although it looked flat most of the time. Everything came crashing down on you two as you pulled away for air, the noise coming back just as quick as it vanished. Your faces were still mere inches away only as you took in all his features, from his raven blue eyes, to his now rosy cheeks, and his disheveled hair. “So, did I do it right?” Kageyama nervously asked, looking down at the ground. Your hand went up to his chin, forcing him to look back at you. “Damn straight you did Tobio.” You two giggled at that statement, before he let his hand travel up to yours, intertwining your fingers and giving your hand a light squeeze, bringing it up to his face and planting a soft peck on it.

“Merry Christmas Y/n.”

“Merry Crisis to you too Tobio.”

Bonus:

“Damn Kageyama, way to get a girl on Christmas Eve!” Nishinoya yelled from the staircase, the rest of the volleyball team behind him with the phones in front of their faces. The two of you burned red as the libero snickered. “Just so you know, I got it on my camera, don’t you worry. That’s going on the volleyball groupchat.” The first and third years came down from the staircase, patting Kageyama on the back as they congratulated him for finally getting out of the friend zone, Tsukishima relentlessly teasing him about his “flirting technique of pinning someone to a wall.” You watched on the side as the managers dragged you to a corner, forcing every little detail out of you in an hour long tea spilling session.

Needless to say, this was probably the best Christmas you’ve ever celebrated so far.

You see I’m shoving all my romantic fantasies into this blog so I can read through them and fill the empty void in my heart that is persistent to stay there and never leave. Maybe it’s due to the lack of social interaction with the opposite gender that I get these days, or maybe I just have dumb lonely single bitch syndrome😗✌️

Hope you liked this though xx

[seouledbysisi]

A Brighter Dawn

Chapter four

Laiya

Laiya woke up in a bright mood. Her head was clear and she felt a sense of relief. She stood to her feet and slipped her feet into her house slippers. As she headed to her bathroom she tripped over something. She bent down to pick up the orange material. It was Minghao’s shirt. She brought it to her nose and inhaled deeply. “Smells just like him.” She spoke to herself with a huge smile on her face. Memories of the night before flooded her mind.

“I just want to talk.” Minghao spoke to her in the hallway. “Can we do that?” He asked while expecting a decline. He didn’t know what brought him there but he missed her presence.

She took a deep breath. “Yeah.” She gave a breathy answer. Her heart was pounding as she put the code in on her door to unlock the apartment.

He politely walked in behind her and took a seat in one of her bar stools.

She stood near her refrigerator. “Would like a drink?” She cleared her throat and held her chest. Her throat felt like it could close at any moment. He had never been to her house, how the heck had he even found it, she thought.

He chuckled a bit. “I’ve had plenty to drink at the club. One more beer and I might marry you.”

“Wait- what?” She spoke quickly. Had she heard him correctly.

“It’s no secret that I want you, but it’s also no secret that it’s all one sided-“

Laiya swallowed hard. “When did I ever say that?”

“You didn’t have to. Your actions prove it.” He laughed a bit. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I just really want my friend back.”

She exhaled and walked to him. She grabbed his hands as he stared at the ground. The alcohol was giving her a bit of courage. “It’s not one sided-“

He looked up immediately with those four words. “What?” He whispered.

“But. . .i do have fears.” She looked away.

At that point he stood to meet her eye to eye. “And what fears are those?” He moves his face close to hers.

Her balance became a bit unleveled. Her breath caught in her throat. All she could smell was him. The forest musk of his cologne mixed with the beer spilling from his breath. Somehow she liked it though. It was intoxicating. He was intoxicating. “I know you say you like me, but have you noticed the age gap?” She looked down at her hands which were steady holding his. Somehow she hadn’t noticed that they were still in physical contact.

Suddenly it became even more apparent when he pulled one of his hands away and rubbed her cheek gently. “Even if I had noticed, who says that I care?”

“What will people think? How will they view it? How would your parents feel? This is kind of a big deal.” She argued quietly.

He covered her mouth with his finger. “I don’t care what people think. The only thing that matters is how we think. Do you like me?”

She nodded. A bit confused as to why she answered so quickly. No hesitation at all.

“Then leave your worries behind. I know work is important to you and you got a lot going on. I just wanna be apart of your stuff that you got going on. Nothing heavy, just us enjoying moments together. No pressure.” Minghao simply stared at her. He didn’t want to overwhelm her with a deep confession. He honestly just wanted a bit of her time. He just missed being around her period.

Laiya smiled. “No pressure? I really can’t afford any more pressure or stress added to my life.” She assured him. Work was enough stress for the rest of her life honestly. It wasn’t that the job was hard or that her boss was horrible. She added stress to herself because she was a perfectionist. She was hard on herself in every aspect and she didn’t know how to balance it out.

“No stress. No pressure. I just want part of you, until you’re ready to give me all.” He kissed her forehead.

Her heart began to pound. He was being so considerate of her needs. “Can you handle things being like this?”

“If it means I hold some importance to you then I can handle anything.” He smiled and led her to her bedroom. “Can I hold you tonight? Or is that too much pressure?”

She smiled a bit. “That might be what I need after the type of day I had at work earlier.”

Flashback ends

She folded his shirt up and laid it across her bed. She wondered when he had left. She fell asleep in his arms. Maybe that’s why she had woken up in such a great mood.

Elyse

Elyse sat in the office that she and Naomi shared and began lesson planning for the week. All the guys learned differently so she had to be creative in terms of teaching so that they’d comprehend the proper way. She clicked her pen against the table in thought.

A knock sounded on the door. She looked around to see Coups standing in the doorway.

She sighed with a small smile. “What is it?”

“I’m hungry, I was wondering if you wanted to catch a bite to eat with me?” He flashed his flirty smile.

She shook her head. “I think I’m okay.” Her stomach sold her truth out when it tumbled. She had skipped breakfast.

“Come on. Your stomach tells no lies.” He flashed a smirk this time.

“I really have to finish this lesson plan for the week so I can go over it with your managers.”

Coups rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why that’s mandatory for you and Naomi. Y’all do a great job, y’all don’t need babysitters.”

“It’s just apart of the job. They want to make sure the company isn’t paying us for nothing.” She replied and continued tapping her pen against the wood.

“Well then I’ll order out and bring lunch to you. We can eat together in here.” He fetched his phone out of his pocket.

She giggled. “Why is it so important that you eat with me?”

“Because I know you’ll skip another meal if we don’t.” He placed the order online. “It’ll be here in about thirty minutes.”

“How did you know I skipped a meal already?”

“Your stomach always growls when you do.” He responded.

Another knock sounded on the door.

She closed her eyes for a moment wondering why she was so popular today. “Come in!”

It was Wonwoo.

He paused when he noticed Coups sitting next to her. That didn’t sit right with him and it sort of proved his fears that maybe she was into Coups just as much as he was into her. “I’ll come back when you’re not busy.” He started to close the door.

She stopped him. “I’m not busy. I mean I am but if you need me then I’m here.”

Coups watched the interaction. “I just had a few questions about last week’s lesson. It can wait.” He answered.

She shook her head. “No what’s your questions?”

He looked from her to Coups.

Coups caught the drift. “I’ll go to the lobby & wait on our food. Be back in a few.” He smiled and patted Wonwoo on his shoulder.

Wonwoo took a unsteady breath. “Do you feel okay today?”

“I woke up with the worst headache and I couldn’t eat because my stomach felt horrible so to say the least, I’m not doing so well.” She smiled a little.

He was holding a insulated tumbler. He shoved it towards her gently. “It’s hot but drink it and you’ll feel better.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What is it?” She lifted the lid off and smelled it. It had a strong herbal scent.

“It’s a tea my mom used to make when I had an upset stomach as a kid. It works well for hangovers too.” He pulled out a bottle of Advil. “This will help your headache.”

Elyse smiled and held the tumbler close to her. “Does your stomach feel sick?”

“No.” He answered blatantly.

“Then why do you have this tea?” She asked.

He cleared his throat. “Because I figured you might need it after last night.” He looked away.

She stood and hugged him gently. “Thank you for being so thoughtful.

Coups interrupted the interaction when he came in and sat the food down on the table. “Foods here.” He smiled.

Wonwoo gave them both a tight smile. Suddenly the room felt crowded.

“We have plenty if you want some too Wonwoo.” Coups told him.

He shook his head. “I already ate. Thanks anyway.” He hurried out the office.

Coups took a bite of his tteokbokki. “So what were you thanking Wonwoo for?”

She took a sip of the tea. It didn’t taste great but if he swore by it then she was going to try it cause she felt queasier than ever.

“Well aren’t you nosey!” She giggled and stared at the spare rib soup he had bought her. It smelled so good but she wasn’t sure if her stomach was going to agree with it.

Coups stared at her for a moment. “Just wondering.” He snickered as he rubbed her leg.

Naomi

Woozi ran to catch up with Naomi who was heading out the building. “Hey, did you forget?!”

Naomi stared at him in complete shock. “Forget?”

“You were supposed to help me with some of the backing vocals for the hip hop team’s song. Elyse already did hers. I’m just waiting on you.” He smiled.

Naomi had totally forgotten that she was supposed to do that today. “I did say I would do that today didn’t I?” She sighed.

“You forgot, right?” He looked disappointed.

“Naomi!” A male called her name out with a korean accent. Finally the guy came from around the corner. It was one of SVT’s managers. One of the good looking ones. The one that all their fans even had a crush on.

Naomi’s eyes widened. “I’m coming, just give me a moment.”

The guy nodded and headed outside.

“I haven’t eaten all day. Can I record after I get back?” She asked with a huge smile.

He sighed. “We have vocal practice.Then we have our English lessons after that.”

“I’m so sorry Wooz. I really forgot and Seungjoon was hungry and so am I so he invited me out with him.” She tried to explain.

Woozi nodded. Dispoitment written all over his face. “Like a date?”

She shrugged a bit. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She said with a smile. “Lord knows I need a date. I’m always with Elyse or third wheeling with Vernon and Natalie. Or with you.”

“Sorry we all bore you.” He pulled his phone and sent out a quick text to whoever.

“You don’t bore me but I do need male interaction other than with my best friend. Most guys don’t talk to me because we’re always together.”

He cleared his throat. “So it’s my fault that you don’t have a boyfriend?”

“No, it’s not i’m just saying. Most people think you and I are a thing undercover, which is crazy cause girls and guys can totally just be friends.” She giggled.

The more she talked the more Woozi wanted to escape this conversation. He had came to terms with the fact that they’d always just be friends but the more she rejected him the more he felt heartbroken. He had carried feelings for her for so long and held them in. He guessed that he would be holding them in even more. “Yeah just friends is what we are. Seungjoon is waiting.” He said nonchalantly.

“Tomorrow can we record? Same time? I’ll bring my lunch!” She asked him with a smile.

He shrugged. “Whatever. If you can fit me in let me know. Otherwise we can finish it without you.” He walked away quickly.

For some reason him walking away from her made her heart tense up. It almost felt like something had changed between them. Something dark had overshadowed their relationship. She didn’t like it. They kept moving 3 steps forward to get knocked back 10 more.

“Are you coming?” Seungjoon asked as he stepped back into the lobby.

Naomi smoothed her clothes down. “Yeah of course.” She smiled and headed in his direction.

Stay tuned.

[9g99]

Quiet Intimacy - C.H.

summary - Friends can sleep in each other’s beds, but friends don’t treat each other like you and Calum do.

word count - 3.9k+

author’s note - slow burn best friends to lovers AU again?? u betcha babey. you know that one cocktail chat where calum’s like ‘oh wassup baby’?? yeah i got inspiration from that. enjoy :-)

warnings - swearing, depressive episode/anxiety attack (it’s mainly just breakdown from stress u kno??), mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of water and (feeling like one is) drowning, fluff + angst

Calum thinks it’s pathetic - the situation he’s in. He’s not one for cliches and yet he’s living one each moment he continues to breathe. I mean truthfully, there’s nothing wrong with it, but he knows how this will complicate things more. Or maybe it won’t but he doubts that because friends shouldn’t think of friends like they are heaven, like they embody light and joy. Friends shouldn’t long to hold the other’s hand and imagine kissing their lips when their smile is so bright that its elegance transcends to you so you’re smiling back at them. Most importantly, friends shouldn’t like each other as more than friends and more as lovers.

“You were in my dream last night,” you admit to Calum. You take a sip from your water.

Calum chokes on his spoonful of cereal. He didn’t expect those words to come from your mouth. The beating in his chest quickens. He just assumed what he had was unrequited, but with those words, Calum thinks maybe it’s not. Maybe the feelings are mutual. Maybe your heart heard the song his played for you, the sweet melody of a tender affection for the beautiful angel who makes his heart race but also calms it with its kind nature. Once he recovers from his coughing fit, he replies, “Oh yeah, what about?”

You can’t help but admire how natural it is having Calum here. Your heart flutters at the domesticity. This is what people aspire for. They want something simple, something compassionate, something warm, and something enduring. You swallow another mouthful. “It’s not like anything weird, so chill.”

“Last time you told me about your dream that you said wasn’t weird was early 1900s themed and you had a pet dragon,” he retorts.

You glare at him and explain, “Well it’s not like that, so shut up and let me talk.” Calum rolls his eyes. “Um, well it was us at Ikea, that furniture store, you know the one --”

“I know what Ikea is (Y/N),” Calum intrudes. You throw a crumpled napkin at him. Calum quickly dodges it and watches the annoyance slowly build in your eyes. You scold, “Hey, I said don’t talk, but anyways we went to Ikea and you know that movie 500 Days of Summer?” Calum nods. “Yeah it was like that. We were exploring Ikea like Summer and Tom did. I thought it was nice and fun and- hey why are you looking at me like that?”

A smirk graces Calum’s lips, but Calum wouldn’t say it’s one. It’s not a smirk, but rather a bashful grin where only one corner of his mouth tilted up, while his eyes gleamed at you with hope and curiosity. The look on his face was a consequence of your earlier confession about him - you had a dream about him, a dream with him where you two went on a date. His innocent questions left you to incomprehensible sentences. “Does someone have a crush on me? Does (Y/N) specifically have a crush me, Calum Hood?”

“What? No. Me liking you? Please, that’s like, um, that’s like-,” you stutter.

“Yeah, okay, sure you don’t,” he chides. “A dream is a wish your heart makes, just saying.”

And his heart wants you. His heart dreams for you.

Calum wonders if you’ve ever considered him as something more than a friend. You probably don’t because this quiet intimacy you two have can be just as platonic as it can be romantic.

It was grocery day, meaning you and him would go to the supermarket to buy whatever foods you thought you were low on stock in your apartment. It was a joke at first for Calum to tag along when you went to the store, but now it feels unnatural if he’s not there. You accustomed to Calum’s commentary on which apple looked better than another, why it’s better to cut your own melons than buy the pre-cut fruit, his hesitance, but he quickly got over that uncomfortable feeling, of waiting in line at the register when you forgot one item and scurried back to the aisles to find it, and most of all, his insistence to always buy at least one box of his favorite cereal. You never do, of course, but he notices that you somehow always have it stocked in your pantry despite all his pleads.

This time around, it felt different. You didn’t want Calum to be there with you. You wanted to grocery shop alone for once. Maybe it was because you had a crap day at work and wanted to indulge in your stash of ice cream, but then you remembered you ate all of it last time Calum came over, so you felt even worse on your way back home. Maybe it was because the elevator broke down and you had to walk up four flights of stairs just to get to your apartment that you felt even snappier and annoyed that day. Maybe it was because you didn’t get a call or email back about your application for another job to quit your current one. Maybe it was a culmination of things that made your body feel like it was slowly walking down the shore of a beach. With each step, the tide pulled you further. The pull of the water was driving you into deep depths to the sea. The further you walked, the harder it was to move your body back to its origin. Your movements stalled as you noticed as a wave begins to form. Your breath quickened in and out of your lungs, because you’ve never been this far out before by yourself; with other people, yes, but alone, no. The wave gained more momentum as it swam to you. Just as it struck down on you, you heard a voice call out your name. Once it hit, the water ran and so did your tears.

You thought you were drowning, that you were done for, that this was the end. You couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t move, but you smelled a hint of musk in the water. Wait, that doesn’t make sense.

It was then you realized you weren’t in the ocean trapped in a current. You opened your eyes to find your body trapped in strong arms. The unknown arms keeper whispered soft reassurances to you in a long hug. Your senses slowly regained when you turned your head up and saw a familiar face.

The dark colored hair, the slight stubble on their chin, the soft cotton shirt, the trace of smoke hidden in the aroma of their cologne, and the beautiful plump pink lips.

Calum whispered again to your hair, “you’re okay. It’s okay. You’re okay. I got you.”

You sighed into his neck. His arms pulled away as he led you back to your front door. He set you down on the sofa as he prepared you a glass of water. He handed you the cup and wouldn’t take it back until you finished all of its contents.

You hated this part, the part where Calum pressed on and on about what’s wrong and what happened to you. You prepared for his splurge of questions, but it never came. Instead he cleared his throat and breathed, “I, um, I saw the list.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. Calum grabbed for something in his pocket. “The grocery list. I got your stuff already. Thought I forgot somethin’ here Tuesday and was gonna ask you to look but remembered you gave the spare, so I kinda just came over and saw it,” he admitted. “I know we usually go together, but I had to get some stuff too, so thought mind as well do yours too. Sorry if that’s like a no-no. I won’t do it again.”

A gentle smile drew on your face at Calum’s shy rambles. You stood from the couch and pulled him up. Your arms wrapped around his torso as you mumbled, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Calum knew he shouldn’t leave you in such a fragile state, but he really needed to get back home and tend to Duke. He mustered the confidence. “I know you just got home, but do you wanna head over to my place? We could just do take out and you can take the guest room if you’re still tired.”

During the drive to his, you couldn’t keep your hands still. The crying session was over, yes, but the stress was still there and you had no release of that. At a red light, Calum reached for one hand and interlaced his fingers with yours, a reassurance that he was there for you and you aren’t alone. He pressed his lips to the back of your hand and rested your entwined hands on your thigh once the traffic light switched to green. As the tires ran to their next destination, Calum’s thumb ran soft and slow laps on your skin.

When you finally reached his house, you didn’t want to let go. If you left the vehicle, then the intimacy that transpired in Calum’s car would also disappear. Those twenty minutes of peace, quiet, and simply being together, like what you had was something more, something more than what you and Calum simply were - friends - would soon fade into a distant memory of a romance that set ablaze for fleeting moments but quickly put out.

Calum turned to you, still holding your hand. He spoke, “Hey, I think we should at least get in before the sun sets, no?”

You exhale loudly. You mumbled, “Okay, yeah. Let’s go.”

You pulled the tab to open the car door, but Calum was already there outside your door. He was breathless. He chuckled before squatting in front of you, still gasping for air. “Can’t let my best girl walk again after those four flights of stairs. Come on, hop on.”

Everything after the piggy back became hazy if someone asked you to describe what happened that day. There was one thing you didn’t expect to find a picture of you asleep on Calum’s chest with his arm around you on his sofa on your phone. You most certainly didn’t expect for Ashton’s text in the group chat to say, “and you two say you aren’t together.”

Calum understands how having feelings for his best friend can either make or break the two of you. That’s why he’s concealed it from you for so long. He only told the boys and he fears they might be the ones that will tell you in a drunken stupor or out of pure accident, but he knows they wouldn’t. They’re his boys and their friendship was always greater than putting one of their love interests at stake over friendship.

Take right now for instance. You’re with the boys, but you’re leaning against Calum as you watch Ashton instruct them how to make some concoction of an alcoholic drink. Michael quickly pours in the alcohol, while Luke steadily pours in some type of chaser - fruit punch, you think it is but you’re not too sure - to mask the putrid taste of vodka.

You whisper into Calum’s ear, “Do they want to die tonight or?”

Calum laughs at your remark. He isn’t even sure why they’re throwing a party. Maybe it’s to celebrate how well received the released singles for their upcoming album have been, but still they usually don’t go all out like this. Calum is about to respond, but before he could speak, Luke shouts, “Grab your cups, lads and non-initiated lad, (Y/N)! Time to drink! Cocktail chats, let’s do this!”

Calum sees Ashton add a paper umbrella and slice of pineapple to two vibrant colored drinks that you’re holding. He sighs before taking the glass from you. “You know you don’t have to drink? Like we, I mean the boys and I, are just doing this for the fans yknow? I’m sure there’s water somewhere.”

You smile at his concern. “It’s okay. I’m not going to drink much after seeing all that vodka Michael poured in and then Ashton snuck in, so I’m good.”

He chuckles at your distaste. You never really were a big drinker like them. They say the gasoline taste goes away, but it’s not true. Well it’s partial true; however, it takes a whole lot of time, and whole lot of other alcohol and maybe something non-alcoholic before the gross liquid becomes semi-palatable. 

You don’t know what song on the album they’re at after your fifth drink, so much for not drinking huh. You just know makeshift cocktail in your hand tastes good. You were weary at the start, but once you tasted it, you didn’t seem to mind. Michael even admit that it was actually two parts fruit punch and one part vodka, because they knew they shouldn’t get too hammered while filming. Still, the amount you’ve consumed is far less compared to the boys drank so far.

Noticing a bright glow on your face, Calum approaches you with languid, yet flimsy steps. He nudges your shoulder and you quickly hide your phone in your butt pocket. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just a little tired, yknow?” you reveal. Your eyes search around the room and you quickly ask, “Do you know where the bathroom is?”

Calum pauses, “I think it’s down that hall and first door on your left. It’s one of the two doors over there if I’m wrong.”

As you venture to the hallway, you hear Calum scold himself. Fuckin’ idiot why didn’t you walk her there?

One of the consequences of alcohol: you have to pee so fucking much. It’s worse than water, because you have to pee like every twenty minutes. You get bloated when you drink too much and god, you hate drinking. You swear you���re done drinking after you wash your hands, but are soon mistaken when Ashton forces two drinks in your hands once you exit. Luke spews nonsense into your ear when you reach the back wall as Calum gets ready to film his part for the song. Luke starts, “You know this was supposed to be band mates exclusive only.” You raise your eyebrows with slight interest at Luke as he rambles. “But we have a soft spot for you.” You give Luke a soft smile to show you’re listening and place the two drinks Ashton gave to you on the side table. You’re an earshot away when Luke mutters “especially Calum,” but you only hear a mumble about Calum and nothing else until Luke’s little spur is interrupted by Ashton yelling at him to grab another drink before he films the next shot. Luke mutters a quick apology before throwing his and another phone into your hands. It’s Calum’s because you see the rocket sticker you put on his case after you bought a batch of 100 stickers off the internet for cheap. His phone goes off from a text and you see that his background is the picture Ashton sent two months ago, the one where you and Calum are snuggled together on his sofa. Your heart flutters at the sight. He’s so loving, so gentle, so kind.

Calum’s voice echoes in the living room and you look up from your spot. He’s trying to explain something, but he’s so giggly that he can’t finish his story properly. It comes in short takes. You slowly sip on your drink as you watch him talk to joyfully about the new music he’s about to release.

“Let me tell you how it went down,” he starts, “they come into our room and we’re like --” He notices you watching and absentmindedly voices his thoughts, “Oh wassup baby?” He shakes his head with a smile. “Don’t put that in,” he laughs. “They come into our room and --”

Everything Calum said after came as white noise. You saw him directly look at you when he said that line. ‘Oh wassup baby?’ And the picture on his lockscreen? You feel as time has slowed and your main focus on Calum transforms into the ikea date again. You’re imagining what it’s like to hold his hand, what it’s like to kiss his cheeks without it being a problem, without Calum’s teasing, what it’s like to fall asleep in his arms and not worry whether you did something disgraceful. Your heart soars at the thought of being in a relationship with him. It’d be wonderful, such a beautiful, wonderful thing.

It’s been an hour and a half since the filming stopped and you’re just lazing on the patio chair admiring the view from Ashton’s house. You hear the screen door open, but don’t bother to check who it is. You assume it’s Calum. “Hey (Y/N), we’re all heading out, but I don’t trust myself with driving so is it cool if we crash here?” You nod at his words, not really listening to what he’s saying. “There’s only two spare rooms and Luke and Michael took the one with two beds so, um, do you wanna share? Or do you want to sleep by yourself? Or-” You continue nodding but not really paying attention. “(Y/N). Hey (Y/N).” His fingers snaps. “Do you want to share a room and sleep?” You stopped nodding when your brain registered ‘room’ and ‘sleep.’

You respond weakly, “Okay, yeah. Let’s go.”

You blink and you’re being lifted in the air. You squeal in Calum’s arms. He chuckles loudly at your antics. “Can’t have my best girl walking in a place she’s never been to. Come on, let me carry you.”

You just plugged in your phone by the time Calum exits the bathroom after showering. You hear his breath hitch when he enters the room. You scrunch your eyebrows. “What do I have something on my face? Oh my god, is there a spider?” Calum quickly shakes his head. “Then why’re you looking at my like that?”

“Like what?” he asks.

“I don’t know. You’re just - ugh,” you groan. “Like that!” You point to his face.

“(Y/N), I swear I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Calum quickly answers.

“Like, like all soft and puppy like. Do you wanna kiss me or somethin’?”

Calum chews on his cheek trying to muffle a laugh, but in his head, it’s going a mile a minute with all his thoughts processing. Do you know about his crush? Did someone tell you? Was it Ashton? No, was it Luke? Calum saw you with him after you used the restroom. Fuck. “Me? Want to kiss you? That’s gross. We’re friends for gods sake. Me wanting to kiss you that’s like, that’s like --”

You unleash a frustrated sigh when you heard ‘gross’ and ‘friends.’ You mutter to yourself, “Wish I could see you as the friend you see me as.”

Calum’s eyebrows furrow. He’s pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to hear that and he’s too nervous to say anything about it.

You get up from your spot and search for extra pillows and blankets. You announce, “I think I’m gonna sleep on the couch.”

Calum is confused. You two have done this before. Maybe not on a bed, but you’ve fallen asleep next to each other. You’ve woken in each other’s arms before and every time you do, it’s pure bliss, to wake up in the confines of someone’s warm embrace, to feel their heartbeat, to watch them gain clarity from a drowsy gaze, to see their sleepy smile. It’s a lovely thing to sleep beside someone.

Calum scurries when he sees you’ve finally found the blankets. He rushes, “Wait, don’t leave. I need to tell you something.”

Your eyebrows raise. “Really? Can’t it wait til tomorrow?”

He can tell you’re drawing a veil over yourself again. Whenever you get uncomfortable, you always pull a disappearing act. You get scared. You panic. Then you flee. That’s how it always goes, but he can’t have you vanish even the slightest when he’s this close, when he has hope that the feelings he has are being reciprocated. He knew that eventually he would answer to his feelings, but he didn’t expect it to come now. The call came too soon and it wasn’t him waiting. It was you on the line.

He rushes, “Yeah. It’s about that one person I told you about a couple months ago. I have updates.”

Calum pats the side of the bed, offering you a seat. Instead of sitting, you lean against the closed bedroom door in front of him. You’re too nervous that if you sit, you might not be able to stand after and free yourself from him. You need to put a distance. You need to put up your guard. You shrug your shoulders as a sign for him to continue with his story.

He licks his lips. His mind is working overdrive trying to say the right words. He can’t articulate things like this on the spot. He stares at the ground trying to formulate coherent sentences. “Um so yeah, they’re a good friend of mine.” You roll your eyes at him. You knew that already. “And they’re just so good to me, yknow? They always have my foods stocked up in their cupboard, which is really sweet. Um I held their hand a few weeks ago and they have really soft hands. Also, they gave me a spare to their place, so I stay over a lot. And god, they always fall asleep on me when I come over to theirs and it’s really refreshing waking up with someone just there, yknow? Like you know how we tend to fall asleep on the couch during movie nights? It’s like that. And god, it feels so great to like your best friend and know they like you back.”

That last line was a bit cheeky, but he can’t help himself when you’ve given him hope.

You, on the other hand, feel your body shut down. The happiness and joy exuded out of Calum and you couldn’t stand it. All hopes of kindling a romance with him is gone. It’s wrong of you to be jealous of Calum’s love life going well, while yours is clearly sinking. You fear that you could be getting replaced and left for nothing. You felt like you were in the ocean again, but this time you could look back. When your body pivoted in the water, you saw no one on the shore calling for you and that’s when you knew you were done for. It was a mistake, but you were already too deep. Your emotions and feelings were smothering you. The water became too chaotic for you to withstand and you’ve never been a good swimmer to begin with. Your chest is starting to hurt because you can’t breathe with all the water surging at you. You feel a tear leak from the corner of your eye but you pretend it didn’t fall in hopes that Calum didn’t see. You somehow muster enough air and fake a smile. “That’s great Calum! When do I get to meet the lucky person?”

Calum parades an awkward smile now. “That’s the funny part.” He scratches the back of his neck, still looking at the ground. “You kind of know them.” 

Now you’re confused. You don’t remember meeting any new friends of Calum’s.

Calum gets up from his spot and grabs his phone. “Hear I’ll show you a picture of me and them together.”

Calum hands you his phone and you stare at his lockscreen. 

Tears build in your eyes, but they aren’t strong enough withstand the storm in you so they begin to crumble and fall. You don’t know what to say. When you look up to Calum, he sends you a gentle smile. He wipes the loose tears, while his doe eyes shine brightly with the adoration he has for you.

“It’s you. It’s always been you.”

a/n - thank u for reading :-) feedback is always appreciated !!

[until-theend-oftheline]

When They Had Nothing - Part 2: Boys and Their Fathers

Pairing: Stucky (Eventually)

Warnings: Alcohol Abuse, Child Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Distant father, Character Death, Implied PTSD, Kids arguing a bit.

Word Count: 3200ish

A/N: This is my new Stucky series. It starts with the boys as kids in Brooklyn and follows CAFA but from Bucky’s POV rather than Steve’s. I am sooo excited about this series which I have been working on for about 6 months as it’s written for @cabigbang

Art Inspired by WTHN by: @ischa-posts - thank you so much for taking the time to create art for my series! - Ischa also made the amazing drawing below

Betaed by: @blacktithe7 @emilyevanston and @ifyougetkilled-walk-it-off - Thank you so much for all your help!

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

MASTERLIST - CABIGBANG MASTERLIST + AO3 LINK

November 2nd, 1930

Over the passing two years, the boys had grown closer. At first, Bucky’s wrestling buddies had made fun of Steve, but Bucky wouldn’t have any of that. He put a solid stop to their remarks and cruel behavior within the first few months. Bucky had never abandoned his old friends, but they had never really become friends with Steve either. They accepted him hanging around just like they accepted that Rebecca did. She on the other hand quickly became fond of Steve, keeping him company whenever Bucky was busy with wrestling or when his other friends dragged him off. Bucky ignored the comments they would make when he excused himself to return to his sister and best friend’s side. All they saw when they saw Steve was a sickly, odd boy that their friend had taken pity on.

What they didn’t understand was that the relationship between the two boys had nothing to do with pity. It was everything but. The two of them seemed to raise each other up and make each other stronger. Steve brought out the righteous, brave side in Bucky that was always there but that he had often hidden away out of fear of getting in trouble with his old man. Granted, Steve’s do right attitude had earned him a few whippings over the years, but he had held his head high through all of them. Somehow Bucky suspected his dad respected him a bit more for it.

Bucky, on the other hand, was able to bring out the slightly more adventurous side in Steve, and even if many of their shenanigans and mischief were done under great protest from Bucky’s younger friend, it always ended with both of them laughing and having a great time. Together they were both at their best, and together they faced everything, including when the stock market crashed and the word they had known started to crumble around them.

Bucky’s family had never been rich, but they had been well off. His dad losing his job when the bank he worked security for closed meant they had to move out of their house and into an apartment building. Still, they weren’t poor. They had his mother’s monthly paychecks, and his dad, a decorated ex us lieutenant, didn’t have trouble finding security jobs to work from time to time. So even if their income wasn’t as high or as stable as it once was, they were still doing better than Steve’s family.

Joseph, Steve’s father, couldn’t hold down a job, and the work at the harbor became further and further in between. Even living in the small apartment they always had and keeping the light and heat on was becoming harder and harder on only a nurse’s paycheck. Bucky always suspected there was more to their troubles than just that judging by the smell of Joseph when he passed him on his way out the door when he was coming home. He had always been drinking. Bucky knew that even if Steve had never told him. He also knew he slapped Sarah around, and there was no doubt in Bucky’s mind that Steve’s slower movements at times didn’t have anything to do with his health.  

Bucky had hated Joseph from the first moment he had laid eyes on him as a five-year-old boy, and that hatred didn’t ease as he grew older and got to know Sarah and Steve better.

Steve didn’t hate. He always chose to see the best in people, even when Bucky was sure there was none. He didn’t push it though. There was nothing Bucky could do but keep his eyes open and be there to catch Steve if he needed him too. Just like he always had and always would.

It was a promise Bucky would live to keep on the evening of November 2nd, 1930. The short November day had long ended, and 13-year-old Bucky was sitting on the living room floor reading when Rebecca’s voice called to his attention.

“Steve’s outside.”

Bucky instantly looked up at his sister, seeing the snow fall outside the window behind her and hoping with everything he had she was wrong. It was freezing outside, and Steve, as small as he was, had grown out of his winter jacket. He had no business being outside in the cold like this. Most people would get a cold while Steve being Steve would most likely end up with pneumonia if he stayed out in weather like this for too long.

“Where?” Bucky dropped his book and jumped from the floor to stand next to his sister sitting in the window case. She pointed, and Bucky’s heart dropped when he saw him. He was sitting against the wall curled into a ball, trying to keep himself warm. A part of Bucky wanted to open the window and yell at him, ask him what the hell he was thinking. He wanted to scold him for being out in the cold in the first place or for not knocking on their door the instant he got there, but a greater part of him was just concerned. Bucky ran across the apartment. He grabbed his jacket from the hallway but didn’t put it on. Instead, he kept it in his hands as he ran outside and along the building until he reached Steve. Without a word, Bucky knelt down, wrapping the jacket around his best friend, rubbing his arms up and down to try and get some warmth into him.

“Let’s get you inside punk.”

Bucky gently guided Steve, who still hadn’t looked up at him, onto his feet. Steve didn’t have to meet his eyes for Bucky to see the wince of pain his movement caused him. He was hurt but still trying his best for Bucky not to see. A silent war raised inside Bucky. He wanted to let go of his friend and run back to his house, shove Joseph’s drunk ass against the wall, and beat the crap out of him until he knew what it felt like.

It wasn’t what Steve wanted. Hell, Steve didn’t even want Bucky to know what his dad was really like, otherwise he would have told him already. So instead, Bucky rained in his anger and wrapped his arm around Steve leading him towards the door.

“You’re staying here tonight,” Bucky promised him, knowing that it would take some convincing with his mom, given Steve had come here on his own so late in the evening, but he also knew she trusted Bucky’s judgment when it came to the Rogers.

His family liked Steve and Sarah. They always did whatever they could to help them out with food or clothes. They never handed them money though. Bucky suspected it had more to do with them knowing those would end up in the hands of a bootlegger than it was them not being able to accept the handout.

It hadn’t taken Bucky as much convincing as he thought it would for his mom to call Steve’s mom at the hospital to let her know her son was spending the night at their house. Bucky had however been convinced Steve would need a trip to the hospital himself after George had handed the frail boy the brandy glass and told him to drink. Steve had been coughing and Bucky banging his back with a flat hand before rubbing gentle circles while Winifred had scolded her husband loudly for his stupidity.

After having gotten a bit of warm soup into Steve, with all the Barnes fussing around him for the better part of an hour,  the apartment had gone quiet. Rebecca had been dragged to her own room by their mother while Bucky had grabbed the sofa cushions and arranged them on the floor next to his bed for Steve to sleep on.

The boys weren’t sleeping though. They were arguing about who was going to the baseball World Series and if the Dodgers were actually going to win that season. The conversation took a turn when Bucky asked Steve if he ever thought about moving away from Brooklyn. While Steve didn’t want to leave his home for good, he did dream with Bucky about places in the world they would wanna see. Like two explorers, they laughed and mapped out the adventurous they would go on together when they grew up.

Eventually, they both quieted down, but neither of them seemed to be able to sleep, so Bucky turned to his side looking down at Steve. He felt a pain to his heart when he thought about Steve suffering outside in the cold instead of knocking on their door. Bucky hated there was a part of Steve’s life that he felt the need to keep secret from him. They were best friends, and there shouldn’t be anything that Steve couldn’t talk to him about.

“Steve, why did you come here tonight?” Bucky asked and Steve froze staring into the ceiling without saying a word. Most other days Bucky would have backed off, but the image of Steve sitting frozen against the wall of the apartment building haunted him. Without giving it a second thought, Bucky slid off the bed and down next to his friend. Steve looked up at him in surprise which quickly turned into horror when Bucky started tugging at his shirt.

“What are you doing? Stop!” Steve fought back but was no match for Bucky’s strength. It wasn’t much of a struggle before Bucky managed to lift up Steve’s shirt to reveal the rainbow of bruises covering his chest and ribcage. The second Bucky saw, he let go of Steve, letting him pull down his shirt and scatter backward against the wall. Steve pulled his legs up under him, wrapping his arms around his knees, staring at Bucky with a look of utter betrayal on his face, and instantly Bucky regretted his actions.

“Steve, I’m sorry pal. I… I know he beats you and your mom okay? I know he drinks,” Bucky tried to explain himself. He couldn’t look into the painfilled blue eyes any longer, so he hung his head. “I just wanted to see how bad it was. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry,” Bucky pleaded with Steve without looking at him but meaning every single word. He had been frustrated with the secrets Steve had been keeping from him, but he had never meant to hurt him or betray his trust.

“I just needed to get out of there,” Steve sniffled, and Bucky looked up.

The betrayal was gone from his face and left was only pain. Bucky didn’t hesitate as he scurried towards his best friend, wrapping his arms around him, embracing him as tightly as he dared in fear of hurting him. It didn’t take long for Steve to return the hug, and the boys stayed quietly in each other’s arms, allowing the safety and reassurance that the two of them were okay wash over them. When they released each other, Bucky didn’t crawl back into bed. He stayed on the cushions on the floor next to Steve, promising him he would always have a place to stay whenever he needed it. He stayed awake listening to Steve’s breathing as he fell asleep next to him. He told himself he didn’t move back to the bed because he wanted to make sure Steve was alright. He wanted to keep him safe through the night, which was the truth, but it wasn’t the entire truth. He needed to be close to his friend just as much as Steve needed to be close to him. They were too old to sleep so tightly against each other, but it didn’t feel wrong to either of them and when Bucky finally fell asleep, he felt more at ease with himself than he had in a long time.

December 20th, 1931

Bucky’s room had become Steve’s hideout after that. He never left his place if his mom was home. He took the beatings to spare her, but whenever she was working evenings and nights, Steve was in Bucky’s room, hiding from the wrath of his drunken father. Over a year passed like that, and the two boys friendship grew stronger.

Bucky never questioned or pushed Steve again, but once in a while, he opened up to his best friend anyway. He told him about the times he had hidden in the back of the closet when his dad roamed the house with a baseball bat. He told Bucky of the times he had stepped between his parents to save his mother. With every story he heard, Bucky hated Joseph a little more. The hate within him built and built. So much so that the day the news of Joseph’s early demise reached the Barnes household, Bucky didn’t grieve. He smiled, relieved and happy that the bully had gotten what he had coming. Fallen into the East River and succumbing to hyperthermia seemed like a just end in Bucky’s eyes. He knew it was wrong, but picturing Joseph die a slow painful death brought him immense satisfaction. Bucky was a kid. He could protect Steve against the bullies at school, but he had never been able to protect him against the one at Steve’s own house. Knowing Steve would never suffer at the hands of his father again eased Bucky’s mind. Which was the reason Bucky was a little confused to see Steve and Sarah’s tears at the funeral a few days later. How could they grieve for someone that had only ever caused them harm? Bucky didn’t push the matter though. He stayed by Steve’s side. Close enough to touch without actually touching.

That entire day Steve didn’t leave Sarah’s side. He stayed close to his mom, making sure she had everything she needed, while Bucky stayed were Steve could always see him. Their eyes met every now and again. With every encouraging nod and smile Bucky mustered to send Steve, he got a relieved grateful one in return.

Even after everyone else had left and Steve helped his mom to bed, Bucky stayed that day. He knew that Steve was holding himself together. He was being strong for his mom and for everyone around him, but Bucky also wanted him to know that he didn’t have to be. Steve didn’t have to hold back a single emotion when it was just the two of them. He didn’t care if Steve wanted to grieve the man that Bucky hated. He just wanted to be there for him and for Steve to know he didn’t have to be the strong one for a little while.

No words were uttered between the two boys as Bucky followed Steve out the door, sitting down next to him on the front stairs. He just took the two sodas Steve handed him. Bucky opened them both, handing one back to Steve without a word. He wanted to ask a million questions, but he didn’t. He just waited for Steve to be ready to speak on his own accord.

“He wasn’t always like that,” Steve said quietly. “Not according to mom anyway. I don’t remember anything else.”

Bucky’s eyes rested on Steve as he moved a little closer, letting Steve feel him against his side. Bucky didn’t ask. He just waited. Steve wanted to talk to him, but he needed a minute. Bucky knew that as much as Steve always saw the good in people, trusting didn’t always come easy. Bucky was his only friend, and truthfully, Steve was Bucky’s only friend too. Yes, he surrounded himself with a lot of boys at school. Girls were starting to take an interest, which was very much returned, but Steve was different. He knew Bucky in a way that no one else did. Steve knew what Bucky was thinking even before he opened his mouth. No one else understood him or even tried to understand him the way that Steve always seemed to. Honestly, Bucky wasn’t sure he wanted anyone else to anyway.

“Mom said he smiled a lot before the war. He took her dancing and made her laugh. He never hurt anyone, especially not her.” Steve didn’t look at Bucky. He just stared down at the bottle in his hands. “He lost everyone in the war. He saw things I guess…”

“My dad went to war to Steve. He’s not exactly easy to live with, but he never broke my bones,” Bucky spoke in a low voice.

He did his best to mask his disdain for the dead man, but it was hard after having seen the array of colors on Steve’s body or having supported him when he walked around on a broken leg. Steve was always sick. He was frail. The man that was supposed to look out for him had been the one that had done him the most harm while Bucky had been powerless to do anything about it. He could protect Steve from the bullies their own age or even older, but how was he supposed to have kept him safe from a parent that decided Steve and Sarah were as good a punching bag as any?

“I know Buck. I’m not saying that what he did isn’t on him. I’m just saying that there is a reason for it,” Steve’s voice was more firm now, and he looked up, meeting Bucky’s eyes. They looked at each other for a while, before Bucky nodded, accepting that maybe war had done something to Joseph neither of the boys could understand.

Bucky took a gulp of the soda, staring out into the cool afternoon air, wondering what his father might have been like before the war. George wasn’t abusive like Joseph. He didn’t drink, but he was dominant and bossy. It was his rules all the time and no matter what Bucky did, he never felt as if it was good enough in the eyes of his father.

“I wonder how my dad was before the war?” Bucky muttered, feeling guilty the moment the words had left his lips. He should be comforting Steve right now, and no matter how difficult George was, it was nothing compared to the things Joseph had done to Steve.

Steve didn’t judge Bucky though. Of course, he didn’t. He didn’t even ask what he meant, because despite Bucky not talking about how he felt pressured by his father, Steve seemed to know. Instead of saying anything, Steve just reached out, taking Bucky’s hand, giving it a squeeze, causing Bucky to look down at their hands. This should feel weird. They were most certainly too old for this kind of thing, and they were guys, not chicks. Guys weren’t supposed to hold hands like that, but Steve didn’t seem to care. The warmth rushing from their joined hands throughout Bucky’s body, causing his heart to beat a little faster as he squeezed Steve’s hand back.

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Stucky Tag Team

@emilyevanston @feelmyroarrrr @smoothdogsgirl @roxyspearing @mizzzpink @blacktithe7 @mizzezm @mysupernaturalfics @becs-bunker @docharleythegeekqueen @royallyslow @cd1242 @scarlettsoldier @danijimenezv @hellaqueerangelofthelord @marvelismylifffe @vvishous @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @sebsunshinestan

[overstalking]

Can you please continue the bandit king mccree fic? ITS REALLY GOOD

McCree: 

You wished you could stop your heart from beating so hard, hoping desperately that Jesse wasn’t somehow able to hear the way it was slamming against your chest. Every time you felt like you would break into sobs you would take a deep breath to keep them at bay, you didn’t want to seem weak in front of the small gang of bandits; not even when you felt the gun in his hand press a little too firmly against you. You’d never realized how heavy a gun was until the heavy steel was resting on the top of your thigh, it and McCree’s threats were keeping you in place as your mother dashed about the room to give him and the other thieves whatever they wanted. Anything to make sure Jesse didn’t get upset and take it out on you. 

The three men were laughing heartily as they drank and ate, Jesse often times looking doing at you with a big smirk on his face. Every time he did it would send a shiver down your spine. He would put his drink down to slide his hand up your skirt, making it so the long fabric was constantly above your knees, and you would have to resist the urge to vomit every time he would grip at the soft flesh of your thigh. You were grateful for the stocking you wore, you didn’t know if you could handle any direct contact. This was more than anything you’d ever done with a man, once you had allowed a boy a few houses down to hold your hand over the counter when you didn’t have any guests waiting to be checked in. Now you were being exposed to a group of strangers and there was nothing you could to stop it. 

A little sniffle made itself audible, Jesse catching onto it not even a moment after. “Now ya just relax, all’s I want is a good time,” he hummed out, smirking wide as he leaned his head down to press kisses down the side of your neck. The rim of his glass was pressed up against your lips and you quickly swallowed down the whiskey that threatened to spill over as he tilted the glass. When Jesse pulled it away you coughed, hand going up to cover your mouth to keep from looking unkempt. The men laughed at the way you could handle the alcohol, noticing the way your cheeks became red and you nearly swooned. Jesse seemed to like that because he dragged you closer so you were seated right on top of his crotch, a little whine leaving your lips when you felt something poking at your bottom. You closed your eyes and hoped that he wouldn’t want anything else after he finished drinking for the day. 

Of course, you weren’t lucky enough for that to be the case. It was late into the night and you had barely touched the food that had been offered to the four of you. It felt like if anything fell into your stomach you would hurl it onto the floor in front of you, no one would be happy with that. Your eyes were heavy and all you wanted to do was get away from these awful men and lay down in your head, probably lock the door while you were at it. The loud sound of him whistling for your mother filled your ears for what felt like the millionth time and she came quickly, fiddling with the front of her apron as she asked him, “What would you like?” 

“I’d love it if ya’d get a room set up for each’a us. Don’t ya worry about this pretty lil’ flower, I’ll keep ‘er nice and safe,” Jesse crooned, laughing low in his throat when he felt you tense up and saw the fear in your mother’s eyes. What your whole family had been fearing up until now was going to happen and there was nothing any of you could do unless you wanted a bullet lodged in your skull. The mere thought of your family being harmed because you couldn’t go along with this man’s wishes made your stomach turn so all you could do now was stare at the wooden panels of the floor. Your head spun and you swore you could see the edges of your vision blurring slightly. 

Your heart broke when you heard your mother begin to sputter, “Don’t you think this is enough. Please, we’ve given you everything you asked, just let her go.” A broken cry bubbled up to the surface when he pointed the pistol at the woman who had always cared for you. With all the courage in your body, you squeaked out, “No! I wanna go, mama. Don’t worry, I’ll be alright.” 

Bile rose in your throat as you stood, legs shaking as the small group followed your mother up the stairs. Jesse held your hand in his large one, pressing the barrel of the gun to the side of your head to make sure that no one tried anything. There would be no taking away his prize after he had spent the night admiring you. When his men were situated your mother led you to one of the nicer rooms, hoping that at the very least you’d be comfortable after he.. finished with you. Jesse took the key from her, nodding his head in thanks, and led you into the large bedroom. 

The rugged man was quick to lock the door behind the both of you and you felt your heart drop into your stomach. Jesse’s arms wrapped around your waist, face pressing into the side of your neck while he pressed his hips against yours. Your breath came in short bursts, the fear nearly spilling from your eyes as he tugged you towards the bed. 

With a pathetic yelp, you were pushed down so you were laid across the bed, hair spilling around your head and arms going up to wrap around yourself. His rough hands grabbed your wrists, pulling them away from your chest with little resistence from you. Jesse was much too strong for you to fight against and even if you tried you were sure it wouldn’t end well for yourself. Even as the tears finally spilled over, wetting the roots of your hair, the cocky smirk didn’t leave his lips. He took the time to light another cigar, taking a drag and blowing the smoke into your face, before he moved between your legs; spreading them open and yanking the skirts up around your waist. 

“Don’t you cry sweetness. This’ll be fun.” 

[http-rory-blog]

helo there palios, it’s super nice to meet ya’ll/be a member of this group. you all seem so damn sweet? like? already in love over here?? anywho, the name is rachel, twenty years old and a member of the gmt+1 timezone. this little shitbag right here is loml rowan rory, who i’m excited to further develop with ya’ll.  you know the drill, below the cut will be a series of bullet point information about rory herself, followed by whats probably me rambling about possible plots with a lot of ‘???’ here, there and everywhere. 

i saw VICTORIA JUSTICE today walking around the fair. Wait, no that was ROWAN 'RORY ANDERSON, the TWENTY-ONE year old CISFEMALE. i’ve heard SHE is currently a BAKER in Clairemont and people say they’re AUDACIOUS & QUICK-WITTED. Watch out though because i’m sure that i’ve also heard people say that they’re SHORT-TEMPERED & CONCEALED.

TW: MENTIONS OF VERBAL ABUSE.

rory, as she prefers to be referred as, was born and raised in clairemont. to this day, she’s still to ever even leave the small town. having never ventured beyond it’s welcoming signs even for a vacation. 

once upon a time, rory did have a smooth-going home-life, her mother and father were over the moon with the blessing of a beautiful baby girl. though it wasn’t to last long, with rory being a colic baby, it drove her father absolutely mad. he couldn’t stand the constant crying, and therefore tried to refrain from being in their home as often as he could, leaving his wife to do all the hard work.

cutting to the chase, he began to drink to cope with the situation. which eventually, resulted in him getting fired from his job when he turned up to work entirely out of it. which unsurprisingly, only furthered his depressive state and need to sooth the pain with alcoholic substances.

around this time, he was never cruel or abusive toward rory or her mother, he did love them. however, he was unable to see through his depressive state he was quickly falling into and became nothing more than a deadbeat; a shell of a person he used to be.

it took years before rory’s mother had had enough, packing her bags one day and walking out the door. it seemed she packed everything, wiped the house clean of anything that was once hers, that was, everything but rory.

for days, the little girl waited day in, day out for her mother’s return; but it never came. when this reality did hit her, it hit her hard. rory was physically unable to understand why her mother left her behind, what she had done so wrong to deserve it.

since her mother left, rory and her father barely got along; with him refusing to do anything but watch television and sit on his ass all day, it left them struggling to make amends meet at times. as soon as she came of age, rory had to take responsibility, picking up a part-time job while in highschool to support them both

the further he progressed to practically never being sober, the more her father would often make comments toward the daughter he once loved and adored so much. it wasn’t that he was trying to intentionally hurt her; he thought he was being funny, amusing, spewing words at her about how she’d probably end up just like him, how neither of them had a future, they were nothing more than the scum beneath everyone else’s shoes, she is just as worthless as he is.

though, after years of saving extra pennies that weren’t spent on food or household bills, etc, rory finally saved enough that she could escape her childhood home, somewhere that once held comfort that had become a nightmare to return to daily.

also, she works in a bakery because somehow the sour lil bitch she is can manage to create some damn good treats tbh.

basically, rory can be pretty bitter, a bit of a pessimist at the best of times (although she tries to play it off as her being a realist), mommy issues??, tbh daddy issues too??, quite the lower class citizen, considering she any pennies she got growing up were spared on bills and food w/her father not working, doesn’t bother to try achieve or make anything of herself either as her mom and everyone else believe she’s going to wound up just like her dad so she’s like?? lmao probs so why bother try make something of myself. is very iffy about getting too close or attached to anyone; fearing they may leave, is generally a very daring person? like, if you told her to jump of a bridge she probably would like ??? idk man. also don’t tell her she can’t do something because she will prove you wrong even if it kiLlS hEr. 10/10 would fight you if you bug her enough, tbh even if you’re like 6′3 and 180 pounds she’d still try take you?? is she okay?? not rly but anWYay. that’s my smol feel free to hit up those dms if you wanna plot bECAUSE I’M A PLOTTING SLUT GIVE ME EVERYTHING. ALL THE DRAMA. I WANT IT ALL.

 i’m gonna throw out a couple of possible connections while they’re floating around my brain, but tbh i work better brainstorming 99.9% of the time so slide into my dms and lets get out plot on.

lowkey i’m always down for the big brother/little sister type of plot, that’s lowkey my aesthetic tbh oops.

it would be pretty cool to maybe even have her mom’s kid(s) around? like, i feel like her mom has 100% moved on and gotten married and is living her picture perfect little life, meanwhile rory is just being bitter af. 

i can only really see her having one or two friends she’s like.. deathly close to? like they would probably know bits and pieces about the stuff that has gone on with her dad, especially if they grew up in clairemont like herself. but these would be her ride n die kinda friends ygm??

on that note, give me just those like.. party friends? like people she drinks with or gets high with etc etc.

frequent customers, she works in a bakery so..?? idk?? just a lil idea. 

someone she used to be incredibly close with when they were young, but after all the shit went down with her dad and mom she pushed them away, to this day she still gives them the cold shoulder and the other has no idea why. at this point, neither does rory. 

hookups/fwbs, she’s not really a relationship person bc trust/commitment issues 101, but she probably fucks around a lot. 

lowkey give me a plot like ‘we said no strings attached but now we’re in knots’. 

there’s probably a handful of people she doesn’t get along with, she’s really easy to piss off and generally would just get irritated quickly by someone and decide then and there she doesn’t like them. 

hatefuck??? i mean, speaks for itself, they argue and bicker a hella lot.. but then always end up fuckin’.

loWKEy, this could go along w/the hatefuck or fwb plot but like.. gimmie a plot were neither of the muses like sleeping alone or at least like, they prefer sleeping together? so they’ll fuck n whatever or even make excuses to do so just so they get to wound up literally sleeping w/one another; like all snuggly and it’s just.. at least rory wouldn’t want to admit she enjoys it so she’d cover it up w/being like ey come over n bang?? 

this is a mess

okay so, i think that’s all i got for right now, but ima hit ya’ll up and whatnot because i 100% wanna plot with evERyoNE. 

[nauticaltrain-archive]

FANFIC: Neon Night

Fandom: Wander Over Yonder

Word Count: 1963

Warning(s): Mild alcohol use, mild language, a sexy alien chick

The night club’s entire atmosphere reeked of free spirit. They could smell it from here and they were outside. Wander and Sylvia stood in line for the Electric Nebula, a club that had opened recently. Decked out in green neon signs and bright blue spotlights, it certainly was an eye catcher. The main sign in particular was very flashy. On it were the words ELECTRIC NEBULA in a retro font with the stereotypical depiction of a UFO over it. Sylvia scoffed at the ship. Nobody’s used saucers for fifty years. Clearly, the club was going for a vintage look.

Wander bounced on his heels as they waited. He hadn’t been in a night club for a long time and he was hoping they were still like they were. Somehow, he had managed to convince Sylvia to tag along with him. She had wanted to stay in the field outside of town but when her partner had learned about the new club downtown, there was no getting out of it. Now they were outside of the Electric Nebula in some rather expensive-looking outfits. Sylvia, even though she usually hated being in clothing, was actually quite liking the cropped turtleneck, leather jacket and jeans that she was wearing. And Wander was looking completely at home in his sequined jacket, black pants and boots.

Soon, the line for the club became shorter and they finally reached the front.

“ID?” the aggressive looking bouncer said.

Sylvia panicked momentarily. She forgot about ID. Damn her and Wander’s youthful faces. She was making up a lie in her head when Wander reached into his jacket and handed the bouncer a pair of ID. After a few moments of looking at the little cards, he handed them back and opened the doors.

As they were entering, Sylvia whispered, “Where did you get those? We’ve never had ID made.”

In response, Wander opened his jacket again to reveal his hat somehow tucked inside. He gave her a smug grin.

“How did you even fit tha-you know what never mind. I’m not gonna question it.”

They got a good look at the club for the first time. Inside were several high tables along the wall, a bar off to the right and in front of them was a huge dance floor. There must have been over seventy people packed in there. It was a wonder how Wander and Sylvia even got in. Sylvia’s eyes set on the bar, where several patrons chatted as they sipped their drinks. Wander however wanted to go straight into dancing.

“Wait no, buddy. Dancing with me will be a lot more fun if I’m tipsy,” Sylvia said.

“Sylvia, you know I don’t drink anymore.”

“Well, you don’t have to but I am,” Sylvia said as she walked towards the bar.

Wander trailed behind her. He had nothing wrong with her drinking but he would have preferred if she didn’t. He was curious to see what she was like, however. They climbed up on the barstools and Sylvia called over the bartender.

“One Radon martini.”

The bartender nodded and turned to Wander.

“And you?” she spoke.

“Just a limewater, please.”

The bartender looked at him for moment before shrugging and turning to get their drinks. Wander and Sylvia exchanged looks. They swiveled their stools around simultaneously to observe the activity. Everyone was either dancing or drinking, so it was a fairly jovial atmosphere. Unbeknownst to them, an attractive Oprite girl was watching them. Her blue hand rested around a drink protectively, her pure green eyes focused on Wander specifically. She eyed him up and down as he innocently swung his legs on the stool. She smirked and got up from her seat. She left her drink as she didn’t think she would need it to have fun anymore. She started weaving her way towards them.

Unfortunately, neither seemed to notice the Oprite, as they were preoccupied with the glowing yellow martini that the bartender had just place in front of Sylvia.

“I’ve never seen a glowing martini before,” Sylvia said, picking it up and inspecting it.

“Well, taste it already,” Wander teased.

Sylvia brought the glass to her lips and sipped it delicately before a great shiver passed through her. She shook her head and sneezed.

“Wow! That is potent,” she coughed.

She took another sip. She swayed a little in her seat.

“Is it that powerful?” Wander asked.

“Yeah, I’m already feeling fuzzy.”

Wander leaned on the bar, “Then I could never drink it. I’d be out like a light,” he laughed.

Sylvia laughed and sipped it again. She shivered again but it wasn’t that bad. Her eyes where a little dilated. Clearly, she was already tipsy after only three sips. What did they put in these things? Wander sipped his water.

The Oprite had already made her way over and promptly sat in the stool next to Wander.  Before he even saw her there, she slid her hand to rest behind him on his barstool. Feeling something move past him, Wander turned to look at her.

“Well, hello there!” Wander flashed his characteristic grin.

“Hi there,” she half-lowered her eyelids, “Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve seen you around the clubs.”

“Yup! We were just wanderin’ around the neighborhood and thought we might drop by.”

The Oprite girl giggled in that way many girls do when they’re interested in someone.

“Well, you can’t come to club and just sit at the bar. Do you want to dance?”

Wander’s eyes widened.

“Would I!” He jumped to stand on the stool. But then all the excitement drained from him when he remembered he was with Sylvia. He forgot he couldn’t just run off like he used to in clubs.

He leaned over to his friend.

“Sylvia, do you mind if I went out and danced to this one song? Just to get warmed up.”

He gave those big puppy eyes. Sylvia sighed.

“Go ahead. You’re dancing with me afterwards though.”

Wander gasped and hugged her neck.

“Thanks, Syl!” he jumped off the stool and grabbed the Oprite’s hand, “Come on!”

He pulled her into the middle of the floor. Suddenly, everything seemed in slow motion as the much taller aliens danced around them. The beat of song reverberated through Wander and he began to dance his heart out. The Oprite was just as good as him, albeit her moves were more….sultry. She was barely even paying attention to the song or the way that she was dancing, her eyes were only on the way Wander’s hips were swaying. And boy, did they sway. She licked her lips and moved towards to him.

Back at the bar, Sylvia watched his friend dance with the strange blue girl. She narrowed her eyes at her. She didn’t mind him dancing with someone else, it’s not like Sylvia and him were together. But something was off about her. Even through her martini-induced haze, she noticed that the girl was dancing a tad too close to Wander to be friendly. Then Sylvia realized what was going on. This chick was an Oprite. A species infamous for its seduction skills and genderbending. One kiss and Wander would be a heap. Sylvia set down her martini and stood up. This was gonna be interesting.

Wander shimmied his shoulders in the direction of the girl that he was dancing with. Her eyes flashed at the motion. He sure was a flirty one. Good, they were more delicious that way. She slunk closer to him and his swaying hips. Before he could even notice her closing in, she was on him. She leaned into his chest, her right hand clutching his lapel and her left on his lower back. His fur raised when her hand moved under his jacket and began running through his fur.

“My goodness, are you alright?” Wander said over the music, “You tripped.”

Grop, he’s oblivious, too. What a perfect meal.

“Oh, I’m just where I want to be,” the Oprite leaned in even more as her right hand slid up to his chin.

Wander’s fur raised even higher. Even as forgiving and kind as he was, he could sense that something was wrong. But he couldn’t look away from her liquid, green eyes. He was absolutely entranced. He could see her lips moving towards his but did nothing to stop it. Everything was sluggish and slowed down. He closed his eyes on instinct. His fur wasn’t raised from fear alone anymore.

On the other end, the Oprite was feeling energized from his zero resistance. She was about the grab the meal of a century from this bleeding heart do-gooder. She almost couldn’t believe that this sap had so much potency. And he wasn’t even drunk! The Oprite was feeling pretty proud of herself. However, she had gotten too cocky. She had forgotten about someone. Their lips just barely brushed before a rough voice interrupted the Oprite’s seducing.

“Mind if I cut in.”

The Oprite turned her head towards the voice and was about tell it off but her blood ran cold when she saw who was standing in front of her. A Zbornak that was probably seven times her size, glared down. The Oprite pushed Wander away and without the support, he fell to the floor with a grunt.

Sylvia dipped her head to be eye level with the girl.

“Why don’t you scram. You’re not makin’ a meal out of my buddy tonight.”

The girl lost her composure for only a few seconds but quickly regained it. She tossed her hair.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll get my food somewhere else. But the damage has already been done,” And as she sauntered off, she added, “Good luck getting him back to normal, tonight!”

“Hey! Get back here! What do you mean!” Sylvia shouted but the girl was already gone.

What could she mean by “back to normal”? What could she have done? A groan resounded from the floor. Sylvia turned her attention to her friend who was currently facedown. She reached down and pulled him up by the arm.

“You okay, Wander? She really did a number on you.”

Wander rubbed his head and blinked a few times. His almost-black eyes focused on the Zbornak. Suddenly, his whole body language changed. He put his hand on his hip and looked her up and down.

“Sylvia, has anyone ever told you that you are striking?”

Oh no. So, this is what she meant. He stepped forward and put his hand on the top of her snout. He pushed it downwards so they could be eye-level.

“Wanna dance?” Damn, even his accent was different.

Sylvia resigned, “Oh, what the hell. Come on, buddy. Let’s dance.”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him into an energetic salsa/club dance. That Oprite girl had changed him into a way more forward version of himself but it didn’t matter now. All that Sylvia cared about was her best friend currently gyrating to the beat of the music, next to her. No wonder that Oprite swooped in for him. Sylvia vaguely wondered what would have happened if Wander had been kissed, as she lifted him up and they spun in happy bliss.

They danced as much as their bodies would allow before finally leaving the Electric Nebula. Wander lolled on Sylvia’s back, drunkenly stroking her hair. She headed out of the city and towards the field that she saw earlier. She stepped over some thorns to reach a soft patch of grass. As she laid down in the field, she heard a soft snoring from behind her. Sylvia turned her head. Wander dozed without a care in the world. The Zbornak’s lips quirked into a smile.

“Sweet dreams, buddy. You’re gonna have a hell of a hangover tomorrow.”