#Now years later I'm terrified of even bringing up the subject because of how far right she's gotten
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Who else up thinking about how one day they are inevitably going to disappoint their mother to no return
#i wish i was comfortable enough to talk to her about being trans as much as I was comfortable enough to talk to her about being bi when-#-I was 12#Now years later I'm terrified of even bringing up the subject because of how far right she's gotten#when I came out to her as bi we were moving and sitting on our bare livingroom floor watching one of her reality tv shows#And on the show they were hosting a pride event and she was talking about how she wanted to be one of those moms who give out free hugs-#-to gay people who weren't accepted by their parents#And when she went on about how it was horrible how some people treated their children after they came out to them#And I turned to her and said “what if I was gay?”#And it was so easy back then I'll never forget it#Because i was confident my parents would still love me if I loved a girl#Its so different now#I told her that I think I might be trans when I was almost 13 and the rest of that year was so shit and now it's complicated#Me and her would have these conversations about how i felt at least once if not twice a week#Which doesn't sound like a lot and it wasn't at first but it became so fucking mentally draining after a while#I really wish I listened to my older brother and figured myself out a little before I came out to her#And with her quite literally watching fox news 24/7 I think that when I finally work up the courage to talk to her and my dad about the-#Fact I'm trans it's going to fuck up our relationship forever#Which sucks because now we have inside jokes with each other#And we never fight and we do little things for each other that will make the other's day better cause with my dad and older brother-#-Almost always working it's kind of just us in the house except for my little siblings#And it hurts because I think I know my mom now but I don't think she will want to know the real me.#Because I have avoided talking about my gender or sexuality or anything related to the queer community with her for years#And i think that now she thinks she just has a bisexual daughter and I don't know what to fucking do with that#I almost want to do what I did when I came out to her as bi and say “what if that was me” when fox news brings up a new trans person to-#-ridicule and she agrees with them#Ive almost done it before but the way she was talking about a trans man in a crop top and blatantly misgendering him-#-infront of me had me on the verge of fucking tears and I was so angry and didn't want her to see me cry#Sorry for rambling it just hurts#beep booping#i want to find it in case i want to delete it
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I'm suppose to be writing on chapter 15 and what do I do? Find my final notes in research to the suspected ending of the story I then write out one of the finale scenes with new embellishment full of dark poety to one another.
They meet again years later to just sit side by side onlooking a skeleton of conjoined twins before them in this anatomy/oddity museum as Ebenezer makes comparisons while finally pondering if it really is Francis or death himself taking a form of familiarity to walk him through the veil. Because why would he come back now? After years of this anniversary passing to just letters being shared.
I hurt my soul before they even reunite in the story.
Why do I do this to myself? I Listened to Bach's Aria of Goldberg Variations, Bloodfest. THAT'S WHAT.
It's a large scene heavily subject to change with much polishing in spaces but this snippet... oof... I see sticking to a degree and definitely plan to make a art cover pertaining to this. It just struck me. Clip is below the cut. (Its not really a spoiler but stuck it there anyway being it is so far into the very poignant direction of the story.)
This man was going to be his death one day, Ebenezer well knew it but was he brave enough for such consequence?
Or was it possibly he was death himself? Of so, that would certainly be poetic... What entity who had come to sit with him before taking him off this mortal plain to take a form with such connection it knew he would step through that veil with ease. He glanced back across the spot they had been, truly wondering. Had he collapsed on the floor and drained his last breath? He seen no body splayed or slumped where he previously had been. What his spirit would have been pulled from to leave behind.
Having seen such entities, nothing would suprise him at this point. He had seen them transform into familiars- even himself -and it was something he had pondered on frequently. How exactly these spirits would return when he was meant to step out that portal indefinitely...
Surely it wouldn't appear as his once future had draped as a skeletal being cloaked with claws and burning eyes, christ no that would be terrifying... No... it would return as something recognizable. Someone who drew contentment and desire in the abandon to follow. To bring peace...
The thought frightened him for a moment. Not the act itself nor his once ideal of the nothingness that was out there, he knew what was waiting now and he was ready to die whenever that come. It was fear had he truly redeemed himself to weight his soul appropriately on that scale to evade the cold, coiling chains, threatening to drag him down to the icy, unforgiving depths... Yes, that still did...
Yet he also found himself touched how a spirit might take this form knowing the solace he would take in it. That put him back at ease to such possibility.
It made his mind wonder curiously if his form would take on the man's final moments as well. If seeing his form come to take him would yeild that same effect. He found that beautifully romantic in its own merit of morbidity. Truly conjoined, even to pass through death.
He glanced up at the man again now softly smiling. Thinking eyes wondering if truly as the man only regarded him back with the same reflection, seemingly questioning his thoughts yet Ebenezer didn't dare ask for such certainty. He also didn't want that to be let known, if truly it being the tangible man himself, how deep into obscurity his mind had truly gone. All he knew was he was walking alongside him now, intrusting him with his balance as the pain in his hip had subside. It was a foolish endeavor by any means to be so content with his fate, whomever this was. Be it really Francis, Death or the truly Devil himself to come claim him.
Yet he found himself not truly caring, even if it was just a simple share of a passing moment of personal contentment as fleeting as life itself. He would happily encounter that when it was revealed with wonder and exploration, like he always had with this man be it painful or pleasured if not both.
As they depart the sun shined brightly outside and cast shadows strech along the walls like fitments inside the displays as they left...
#oc francis osman#god this hurt jesus christ#why can't they be happy#scroogeposting#scrooge fanfiction#scrooge a christmas carol
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¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plizetsky x reader)
(part five)
Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Masterlist
Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none
*Yuri's POV*
(One week later)
He groaned, still trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes even after breakfast. The sun was annoyingly bright today and the crowds chatting along the streets became a loud buzzing in his ears. They walk along shore at a smaller street where the typical fisherman has been standing, even years from now since Yuri saw him last. With a face mask up to his eyes and his hoodie up, it also came to be exceedingly hot underneath his disguise. Sweaty again.
In front of him walked Yuuri and Victor, sheering for him to hurry up meanwhile Victor snapped some photos behind his head on him and (Y/n). 'A selfie to remember' he said. Though the sour face of (Y/n) was far from something anyone would like to remember. Terrifying.
Right. Why? Yuri didn't exactly hit it off at its peak this morning with (Y/n) as his roommate. The cold shoulder hitting him like a slap in the face grew even larger every time he tried talk her back to normal state. A 'what's the matter with you? Stop being a drag!' Wasn't gonna get him an answer so far. Though, Yuri found himself surprised that he even made an effort into talking with her in this mood. One week with her and he's already softening up? Not great. He can't treat her as if she isn't a stranger to him, nice or not. Even if she always came at the late ending hours of his practicing at the rink and greeted him with a late snack after training. Star-shaped apple slices and a smoothie. He found it weird the first time and he still does. Every morning and every late evening because Yakov happened to mention that apples were Yuri's favorite fruit.
And this morning? Maybe he could actually admit that he screwed up. It probably could've gone better if he hadn't stolen Magnolia from her... Long story short, she was asleep with the cat in her arms and Yuri sneaked out a makeshift toy to lure him over. (Y/n) quickly noticed that Yuri was now the person cuddling the cat and she tried to call him over for his morning brush with a happy chirping sound. But Yuri had held Magnolia still when he tried to go until the cat was like 'meh whatevs' and went back to sleep in Yuri's arms. He knew now afterwards that it was already a little bit much to hold the cat back but the worst part wasn't past yet. No. The worst part was when he said 'He wants to be with me, not you, you clingy hag' and 'Maybe if you weren't so stubborn and tacky all the time he would be sprinting to you this moment instead of cuddling with his savior.' When she hadn't responded well to his words some unknown force told him to push it harder. So kept on pushing at her limits with spiteful manners and comments. He can't really understand why he'd said that now afterwards. All that came out meanwhile Yuri was still half asleep from past day's exhaustion, and he hadn't yet realized that he probably should filter the way he talk to his coach, nonetheless the,, he wouldn't say idol,, but- Nonetheless the acquaintance she is. Though he couldn't stand her. How itching and irritated he felt whenever she made her own sour looks. Isn't she supposed to be happy sunshine or what? Just get over it already, it was just an insult anyway.
But it was clear that (Y/n) took the insult to heart and has been doing so since then. At breakfast, he had received a bowl of starshaped cut apples put down harshly in front of him at the table. That along with blueberry pancakes. Why she was the one making breakfast, he didn't understand. But it had certainly not been unbearable to eat. No the opposite really. The entire Katsuki household was there along with them and everyone had been gulping it down like starved hounds. But the thing really throwing Yuri off was the fact that his appleslices were the only ones being but into starshapes. Just that she took the extra time even though or because she was upset at him?
Yuri gazed at the girl's direction as he thought of the event. 'So very unnecessary' he thought. Was it some twisted joke he didn't quite get or a revenge he didn't see coming? Because except for the apples, she had been totally snappy with him since they left for the unknown adventure Victor had described it as. And she wouldn't really have made that extra effort out of kindness judging on her mood today.
(Y/n) was very keen not to glance at him just one bit this morning since that breakfast. And when Yuri made a huge deal out of it afterwards, Victor had took him aside and whispered into his ear; 'There will come days where she won't put up with your bullshit anymore and today seems like such a situation. I don't know what you did to cause that reaction because it's quite rare. But I recommend you lay off and let her cool down on her own.' His words had been a sense of advise with a hint of bitterness in it.
Just minutes later he had gathered us four and announced that he would be taking them all somewhere to cleanse our minds and gather our thoughts. He hadn't really understood why all four would go there but that's when (Y/n) decided it was time to announce a pretty important details she almost withheld from him until now. Apparently the entire reason they chose to do this whole coaching in Japan was because she had taken Yuuri as her apprentice as well. It all seemed relevant of course. Why else would Yuri be here right now and not with her back in Russia? But it made him feel uneasy and let down for some stupid reason. Why she apparently thought it was much more important to teach Yuuri than him since they were in Japan right now. He's always gotta be the favorite even though Yuri won gold and proved himself to be better than the piglet. Victor already chose him. And clearly (Y/n) did too. But she made him believe that she came here only to coach him.
He didn't understand anything. He didn't want her coaching, didn't want to hear anything she had to say. She wasn't a real coach even. He certainly didn't want to share a room with her and he didn't want to feel relieved at the sight of her at the rink yesterday, coming to his rescue like that. He just wanted her to stop talking so much but now he couldn't stand the silence she was giving him.
Couldn't she just get her shit together?
"Ta-daaa! We're here!" Victor's shout made Yuri snap back to reality at the beat of a second. It took him a moment to understand the building the man was waving towards but soon he remembered the experiences he had there.
"No- nonono! I'm not going through that hellish session again. No damned waterfalls and no hitting me with a stick!" Yuri turned on his heels but was grabbed by the collar of his neck by a pouting Victor. (Y/n) who was clearly new to the subject gave Yuuri a hesitant look but Victor wasn't going down.
"Come on, it will be great for everyone. And I promise no hitting this time!"
'This time.' He didn't believe it one bit. He knew it was just an attempt to get him through the doors. Once in, no turning back. But if there was going to be hitting, he was secretly hoping that it would not be (Y/n) as the one doing it.
"Still no. There's no way you're getting me through those doors! Never am I ever standing under a waterfall again!"
...
The rapid flow of the water forcibly threatening to push him forwards was as cold as he remembered it. Screw the hitting with sticks, this just felt like someone rapidly slapping him across the back over and over. At least the water could've been warm. What was the deal with that anyway? He knew exactly why going here was kept a secret from him. They would never have caught him if he knew before. Now Yuri is standing in the middle, unable to escape. A quiet but intimidating (Y/n) who hasn't spoken up for hours and Yuuri who seems to actually be taking this whole thing seriously. Then there's the big question. Where is Little blondie Rasputin in the picture. The answer is right in front of him in a corner of the other side of the room. In a bubble bath taking it easy. He said that he'd be making sure we'd concentrate on opening up our minds and he'd tell us if he noticed otherwise. Yuri believed none of it. He just doesn't want to be here himself. Cause why was (Y/n) doing it if both the coaches aren't in on it. She's already in touch with herself and doesn't need it. Part of him guesses that she was participating on her own terms for some reason.
'This isn't working. I'm literally standing here thinking about everything and anything until time passes!' He thought. And...
He made the mistake of looking to his right. (Y/n) was standing close beside him with closed eyes. He was going to close his eyes as well but then he noticed how soft her skin looked. Like, all the wrinkles caused by her constant grumpy face were flattened out. Her mouth hung low and her lips were slightly parted. That made him notice her slow breathing making her chest rise and fall in a nice rhythm. Even though the water hitting his scalp shouted angrily in his ears, he was somehow able to here her melodic breathing. She was doing this the right way. And she looked completely relaxed. Almost asleep.
He kept on listening to her breathing and prayed that she wouldn't open her eyes right this moment. If so, she'd probably have realized right away how long exactly he had been staring at her.
He brushed it off and adverted his gaze, closed his eyes shut. It wasn't anything more than that. He had to get to know her at some point and her striking eyes were always too intimidating for him. He would always look away to feel less stripped of his soul in front of her. It was almost the first time he really could study her features up close, and without her knowing. (D-Did that sound weird-? anyway.)
He couldn't see her anymore but her light breath could still be heard. A part of it made Yuri think of music when he listened to it. He'll focus on that. Mach the breathing to his own.
Everything she did held a steady rhythm to it, unintentionally probably. The music was so much more than just the beautiful voice she had, but it consumed her entire being. Maybe that's why it felt so real on stage.
Does he have to let the skating consume him too? What if he loses control of what he's doing? Starts doing a different choreography or hits the wall again? What would happen if he just let go?
"I think we're done for today. Great job guys! You too Yuri!"
Well, he would never find out because he could never let that happen. Ever. If he doesn't hold control, then what does he have.
Yuuri and (Y/n) came back to reality and stepped out of the fall. Yuri followed short behind and watched the droplets of water running down the back of the girl in front of him. Her shoulders were much less tense than before they begun their session.
'If she thinks she's her to help me let go of all control and fly off the surface of the earth, then I'm sorry. For your coaching will have been in vain.'
...
Yuri was the last one out of the showers and was alone in the locker room as the piglet had already finished before him. He put one the clothes he came in since he came unprepared and set off to the main entrance. To his surprise, he found (Y/n) leaned against a nearby wall just outside the path leading the separate changing rooms apart. 'She's been waiting for me?' She still looks stern but this time Yuri's directly hit in the face by it. She's not ignoring him anymore. Her eyes are as piercing as always but not with excitement or content as usual. Yuri has to turn his head. The feeling's too much.
He walks beside her this time as well. Not a few feet behind like the way they came here.
Victor's tall back was seen outside the building through the glass doors and the two of them headed out. Yuuri was there too but they weren't alone. A large crowd of screaming teenagers as well as adults were swooning over the two skaters. Reporters and journalists were at the front struggling to ask the pair questions meanwhile guards from the center nearby held them all back. At the corner of his eye (Y/n) was turning slightly pale of the sudden screams that roared as they arrived together. As soon as Yuri was noticed the same reaction came for the second time and he joined in on the surprise. His first instinct was to run and hope none in the crowd ran faster than him. But is seemed like (Y/n) sensed his intentions before he did. A firm and calming hand was placed upon his head and as what- a warning? A threat? He looked at her and she smiled. Not to him, but to the crowd.
"Is that (Y/n) and Yuri Plisetsky?"
"Yes! But why are they in Japan? And together?"
"Aww look! They look so cute together!"
A couple pictures were taken of the two of them and Yuri was as stunned by the girl's hand as well as her warm presence towards her fans. He was even too caught up to snap her hand away.
"How long have you known each other?"
"Yuri YURI! What were you doing in there with the Aubade duchess of (nationality)?" Duchess? Right. One of her many titles created by her fan base. It's pretty funny. Why a duchess? Why not a queen or an empress? Yuri wasn't the one to complain though. He was called the Russian punk.
"(Y/n), any reason you're in Japan? Any hot news you'd like to share with us?" The woman asking leaned over the fighting arms of the guard and winked playfully at the two of them. He saw (Y/n) getting visibly uncomfortable at the suggestive question and she stuttered, trying to come up with something smooth and contained for the reporter to use in her article. Yuri was just pissed off at how rudely this woman got all up in their private life like that. He felt like it had been put upon (Y/n) as her responsibility alone to answer that and that just made him angrier.
But the back of the tall Russian male hiding him from camera views stopped the salty defensive words he almost spit out.
"Of course! It's about time to announce anyway. On the behalf of myself and Yakov Feltsman, we're proud to announce that (Y/n) (l/n) will spend her time in Japan as coach for our competing skaters; Yuri Plisetsky and Yuuri Katsuki, in their preparations for this year's Grand Prix senior division!" Victor's worlds were happily announced to the audience and the next moment all hell of a screaming mess broke loose. The reporters rushed sideways to call their firms about the news and the guards almost failed to hold the fighting fans at bay. It all was a mess already. It went from being super private and secretive to Victor dropping the act without warning and soon the whole world would know in just a couple of minutes.
Shit.
A/N; Aaand another chapter! I have so fun writing these and it's almost like therapy session for me too:') no waterfalls though. It seems like Yuri's starting to warm up to (Y/n) right? Well... Baby steps;) What do you think will happen in next chapter? Let me know what you think!
#yurio plisetsky#yuri on ice fanfiction#yuri on ice fandom#yuri katsuki#yuriart#yurianime#yuri on ice#yuri on stage#yuri plisetsky x reader#victor nikirofov#yuuri on ice#yuuri katsuki#animelove#anime fanfic#anime icons
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you're my 't-h-i-n-g'
taeyong × fem!reader
warnings: mature language and themes
genre: floof but i think theres a good amount of angst shoved in there im really sorry im bad at these things dhvehej
tags: pining, bestfriend!taeyong, badboi(?)!taeyong, jellybelly!taeyong
characters: you, taeyong, yuta and johnneh make a brief appearance, seventeen's yoon jeonghan is mentioned like twice
words: 3.6k
Do you remember back when you were a child? Do you remember meekly holding onto the object of your affection and feeling safe, desperate for it to stay by your side forever?
Whether it was a stuffed toy or your parents' big, warm arms, do you remember the sense of security only your 'thing' could make you feel? Knowing that no matter what, you were protected against all the evils your brain could muster back then?
Well, I guess it would be presumptuous of me to assume that every single person would remember their 'thing', mostly because some people just didn't get to experience having one at all.
Lee Taeyong was one of those people.
He'd grown up in a place he never spoke about once in the four years I've known him. Not willingly, anyway.
It was almost at the end of our sophomore year of college when I had finally managed to push him into opening up about his past, and boy was I taken aback. Not to exaggerate or anything, but anyone who knew Taeyong had the basic idea about his background, and what he told me still managed to shock me out of my wits.
I understood after that why he didn't talk about his past. If I were him, I wouldn't either. I was surrounded by absolute guilt for making Taeyong relive it through his words and vowed not to ever bring it up again.
Another thing that made sense to me after that conversation was why it was so hard for him to commit to relationships. Not just romantic ones, just relationships in general. As far as I know, apart from me, he didn't trust anyone.
Well, apart from me and them.
Taeyong never really let me get close to the guys at the tattoo shop, now that I think about it. He kept me completely separated from his other friends the first year and a half of knowing me. Not even a mention about what his day was like at work. I was honestly amazed by how efficiently he could swerve around the subject for so long.
After a while, he started mentioning their names but that was pretty much it. He rarely ever did that, though. But it wasn't like he was cutting off another personality of his from me or anything like that. I had a general idea of what they did. Even if Tae managed to keep me completely separated from all of that the best he could, he still was the same Lee Taeyong to me. He was still my best friend, so he obviously couldn't hide everything from me.
The first time I ever interacted with them (that too, only two of them) was a few weeks ago, during my fourth year of knowing Tae. It was a... questionable encounter. Now that I think about it, the highlight of that day wasn't even meeting Taeyong's friends.
Whoever fought with him that day had probably put up a good fight, because he was so hurt that day that he had no choice but to come to my apartment for help; and he hated having to be seen by me when he was hurt.
I was utterly terrified when I saw him, to be honest. The slash on his arm was long and it looked really deep. He had a lot of bruises on his leg, and those, too, only the ones I could see through his ripped jeans. There were scratches on his face as well. Tae told me that he'd only walked for around five minutes or so, but I was honestly surprised he'd managed to make it to my place in his state.
After my frantic attempts to clean up his injuries in a mixture of panicked questions, teary eyes and messy bandaging somehow made the bleeding stop (not completely, I could see the bloodstains on the bandage), I demanded that we head to the hospital immediately.
He refused to budge, claming that he "didn't need to", and I was near punching him square in the jaw.
"What the fuck do you mean, 'I don't need it'? Are you fucking insane, Tae? We're going. Now."
Now, I may not be the scariest person in the world, but I do know how to take my stance when I need to. No way in hell was I going to agree to let him bleed on my fucking couch for goodness knows how long before he passed out.
I stood in front of him, my arms crossed over my chest. He was watching me intensely, his piercing eyes looking straight into mine. I didn't know why, but for some reason, they always managed to make me weak.
This might not be the best time to bring this up, but yes, I possibly had feelings for Taeyong which weren't exactly platonic, per se. And yes, it was terrible, because he depended on me for love and support. It was wrong of me, and I was trying to stop.
But at that moment, I wasn't going to cave. Hell if I wouldn't try my best to battle his gaze, no matter the way it made me feel.
"Get up," I said, shoving every bit of authority I had inside me into my voice. "Now."
He parted his lips slightly and held the tip of his tongue between his teeth. His eyes flitted down from my face. Relief bloomed in my chest. The fear of the possibility of Taeyong's injuries getting worse flickered away slowly.
A doctor will look at him and he'll be fine, I told myself.
That was short-lived, though. Not more than two seconds later, he looked back up to meet my eyes, with a much darker gaze this time. The way he looked at me was so intense that I almost lost my breath. And then the realization hit me.
I was in a dress. Tae knew I only wore dresses on dates. Tae liked to know about who I was going out with. I hadn't told him about this one.
The anxiety was ten times harder this time than the one I had felt before. I looked away from his eyes to the couch behind him and, seeing his jaw tighten through my peripheral vision.
He shifted closer to me so that our knees were touching, taking me by surprise. I looked down at his arm, concern clawing at my chest as I saw more blood seep through the white bandage wrapped around his forearm, probably because he moved so suddenly.
"Tae, let's— let's not do this right now—"
"Who were you out with?"
My breath caught in my throat. I felt awful doing this. I felt awful knowing that he cared so much. I hated that I hoped that he didn't just care as a friend. I hated that I liked Lee Taeyong, a person who sought comfort in me.
And that's exactly why I wanted to move on. I couldn't just cut him out of my life, so I tried to busy myself with other people. He made it so much more difficult, though. It was hard enough for me to agree to go out with someone without having my heart shatter into pieces at the constant reminder that it was Taeyong that I truly liked by itself. The fact that Tae rarely ever approved of my dates made it even harder. That's why I chose to keep Jeonghan hidden from him.
But being dishonest to him was what hurt the most.
"Tae, please. You're not listening, we— we need to get you help—"
He cut me off, opening his legs and shifting to the edge of the couch so that I was standing between his thighs.
"I asked you a question."
I could feel tears prick at my eyes. Sucking in a shaky breath, I tried to compose myself.
"That isn't our priority right now, please, let's just go—"
"I said I'm Fucking Fine. Will you answer the God damned question now?" He raised his voice and I flinched slightly. Slowly, I could feel anger bubble at the back of my throat. Why did he have to yell? I never got this mad when he went out with someone I didn't like.
"That isn't any of your business," I mumbled, taking a step back. His hand immediately came to stop me, palm resting against the back of my knee and pulling me closer. It felt warm against my skin, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
"What did you say?" He spat. He sounded livid.
I felt myself get aggravated, too.
"I said that it isn't any of your business," I repeated, pushing his hand off. I looked into his rage-filled eyes, intimidating to the core.
But I wasn't going to back down. Tae had no right to be this mad at me for going on a date, even if he cared. It wasn't like I had ever stopped him from going out with someone. Besides, he hadn't been completely honest with me about his life either.
"It very much is my fucking business," He mocked my tone from vefire as he stood up, towering over me slightly. I looked up at him as he leaned down to level our faces. My heart went to beat fast again, but I didn't let that affect me. We were having this argument now, no matter the way he made me feel.
"Yeah?" I challenged. "How come I never get to hear about who you're hanging out with, then?"
He looked taken aback. I couldn't believe him. Did he honestly think I was never going to bring up his friends, or rather, the fact that he entirely hid them from me? I didn't know them personally, but I knew they weren't the best people. Not with Taeyong coming home hurt like this.
"That isn't the same thing."
I scoffed, looking away. "How is it not the same thing? You've known me for four fucking years, Tae! Four! You thought I wouldn't question you hiding what seems to be an entirely different world from me? For all I know, you could—"
"It isn't the same thing because they won't try to get into my fucking pants!" He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "Those guys, that ask you out, they're — they're dangerous. All they want to do is fuck you, and they'll pounce on you the first chance they get-"
What the hell was he talking about?
"Then why the fuck do you keep your friends hidden from me? Don't you want to keep me locked away from them because they're dangerous as well? Like all my dates supposedly are?" I was shouting now, and I was sure my neighbor could hear me.
Taeyong rubbed a hand over his face in frustration.
"Fine. If you want to meet them that bad," he pulled his phone out and typed for a few seconds, before shoving it back into his pocket, "I called them over right now."
I stared at him in shock. If it was that easy, why didn't he just let me meet them before?
"W-What—" "Now will you tell me about this secret date of yours?"
He was still angry, it was obvious. But I calmed myself down, reminding myself that he was, in fact, hurt.
"Sit down first," I instructed. I'd managed to lose the ability to meet his eyes again. I took the glass he'd drank from when he arrived and filled it up with water, waiting as he settled on my small loveseat.
I tried figuring out a valid excuse for not telling him about Jeonghan. I knew it wasn't right for him to control who I dated, but I knew where he was coming from. He was Lee Taeyong, and this was his way to show that he cared.
I handed him the glass of water, motioning him to drink it, but he shook his head.
"You drink first. Your throat must be sore."
I complied, lifting the glass to my lips and taking a few sips. My throat felt a thousand times better. I filled it up again and went to sit next to Tae, watching the glass as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.
"Here."
I turned my head slightly to look at him while handing him the tumbler and I instantly regretted it. He was watching me again. I froze.
He took the glass from my hand and drank, strongly holding my gaze. The glass made a quite thud when he placed it on the table, reminding me that we still had to talk about this.
I turned my attention to his fingers which rested on his thigh. Slowly, I inched my hand closer to his until they touched. Tae instantly interlocked our fingers and I immediately felt better. No matter how much he might have been making my heart race, holding his hand always made me feel comfortable.
"Your arm," I said, "it stopped bleeding."
He smiled, squeezing my hand. "Told you I would be okay."
I didn't know what to say. My heart felt as if it would combust at any given moment.
"Tell me," he pleaded, tugging at my arm slightly. I sighed, trying to come up with something which didn't sound completely stupid and was somewhat honest. "It's just that you— I— you rarely ever like the guys that ask me out and I really liked him, so I just thought that— that it would be better not to bring it up and so I—"
"Calm down." He leaned down to whisper in my ear, "Tell me slowly, it's okay."
I paused for a moment, trying to calm myself down. "You know Jeonghan from the— that ice cream place downtown?" I felt him stiffen. His lips ghosted over my ear and he let out a short "hm". It made me shiver and I prayed he didn't feel it.
"We just, um, went to get dinner. Nothing special."
Tae suddenly pulled back, completely serious. "Would you go out with him again?"
My eyes grew wide. I looked at our hands again. "Honestly? No."
That wasn't a lie. Jeonghan had offered to go back to his place and "spend the night" as soon as we finished our dinner which had immediately made me uncomfortable.
He tilted his head, asking me to tell him why. I looked up at him to find an unamused expression on his face.
"You have to promise me you won't do anything to him." At this, he cursed under his breath and looked away, already knowing that whatever was about to come next would make him want to punch the guy.
"Promise me," I repeated. He looked at me and nodded simply.
"I want verbal confirmation."
He let out an annoyed grunt, but he promised me, anyway. I told him what happened and his jaw clenched.
"Taeyong—"
"This is why I tell you to not date them." He closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them and looking at me again.
"Is there ever a problem when you go out with guys I like?"
Yes. Yes, there is.
"I— well, I mean I guess not."
I didn't even know if he could read me like an open book right now or not, I was in a daze. I prayed to everything holy that I wouldn't accidentally out my feelings for him.
He looked at me, and his eyes softened. Suddenly, he pulled my arm and lifted my leg, positioning it so that I sat on his thighs, straddling him. My thighs were on either side of him and my dress rode up.
What was he doing? I couldn't react, nor could I move. He was way too close to me. Lee Taeyong was mere inches from my face and I was sitting on him.
"T-Tae—"
"Then why do you go out with them?" He asked, looking at my cheeks. I couldn't think, my mind had gone blank.
He pulled me closer to him. I could see the scratches more clearly now.
"Because I— I," I attempted to speak but I couldn't. Not with him this close to me. He looked down to my lips, his tongue coming out to wet his own.
"Can I tell you a secret?" He whispered. My heart picked up it's pace. His voice sounded different when he was this close. I just nodded nonchalantly.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, trapping me in his hold. "I like you."
My breath hitched.
Who said that? Did I say that? No, I wasn't in a state to talk, I couldn't have. Was I hearing things, then?
I blinked in confusion.
"Don't leave me hanging," he chuckled nervously, making me realize what just happened.
Oh. Oh.
Taeyong said that?
I couldn't understand. He looked uneasy but he still wore a small smile on his face. Oh, that smile. Was this even real?
"I—" Again, I fumbled with my words, trying to speak. I couldn't. Oh my god, did Lee Taeyong just tell me that he likes me?
"Hm?"
I couldn't say anything. I couldn't. The feeling in my chest was unexplainable and it had completely wiped out all of the vocabulary in my brain. So I just nodded.
Tae let out a small giggle, and my heart melted. Oh my god, this was real.
"What do you mean by that, baby?"
I swooned at the name. He'd called me that name once before, and that was two years ago when I had caught a really bad bug; but God, I could never get enough of him calling me that. I lifted my arms and gripped his shoulders, bumping our noses.
He hummed again, encouraging me to go on.
"I like you too," I blurted. I still couldn't believe it. I was in Taeyong's lap, confessing to him.
He beamed, lifting his head to kiss both of my cheeks, sending butterflies down my stomach with each. He went up and kissed my forehead, hugging me close against him.
"Thank you," he smiled, breathless. He lifted his hand to hold my cheek, and honestly, I could've burst out into tears right then.
"Are you two done now?"
I jumped. Scrambling off of his lap, I heard someone clear their throat. Taeyong clicked his tongue in annoyance, getting up as I smoothed my dress down.
Two men stood at my doorstep — one had an eyebrow raised and was having a staring contest with Tae, and the other, much taller one was tapping away at his phone.
"H-Hi," I said bowing slightly. Good God, the first thing Tae's friends saw me do was probably the weirdest thing they'd ever witnessed.
" 'Sup. I'm Yuta, nice to finally meet you." The one that was having a staring contest with Tae said, breaking his eye contact with him and stepping closer to shake my hand.
"I got the whole thing on video! The others are gonna' be so jealous that I got to see this in person." The tall one said, finally looking up from his phone. "I'm Johnny."
I looked at Taeyong in panic, and I saw him sulking and scratching the back of his neck.
"You what—" "Introduce us!"
Taeyong cringed, "Well, you two already know who she is, so—"
"Yeah, yeah, we do. Do you still need a ride?" Yuta asked, not seeming interested at all.
"Actually," Tae said, his eyes finding mine for a split second before he looked back at Yuta, "I think I'm gonna stay the night."
"Well, okay. John, let's go." Johnny kept making a weird face at Tae, and to be very honest, I was unsettled.
"Would you guys like some water or anything? You're welcome to stay and rest for a bit if you'd like—" "No you're not, go away—"
"Shut up, Tae. Anyways, you need anything at all?" I asked, shushing Taeyong. Yuta looked at me, and let out a laugh.
"No, thanks. We've already seen enough, we wouldn't want to interrupt anything el—"
I was about to pass out then and there, but thankfully, Johnny dragged his friend away before he could finish.
"oKay bye bYe, it was nice meeting you!"
They shut the door behind them and I locked it close. I heard Tae sigh.
"Your friends are weird." I turned to face him, only to find him walking over to me.
"Yeah, I know." He engulfed me in a hug, burying his head in my neck. "They're such weebs, I don't want the rest of 'em to meet you. You might turn into one of them."
I let out a laugh at that, wondering what he meant.
"I'm sorry I yelled."
I sighed, hugging him back. "It's okay. I yelled, too."
I felt him smile against my skin. "I promise I'll work on the yelling. And on not getting hurt," I let out another laugh. "You'd better." This wasn't a dream, was it? "Or you can go to your tattoo buddies for help next time."
"You're so mean to me," he whined. "Can we sleep now, please?"
"You don't want to change?" I asked, pulling away and leaving him to grab some of his spare clothes I'd taken from his place some time ago. He hummed, following after me.
"I've waited for non-platonic cuddles for four years, so please, hurry up." He said, coming up to hug me from behind as I took out a sweatshirt and a pair of pajamas from the dresser.
"What are non-platonic cuddles?" I laughed, and he mumbled something random as a reply.
There in his arms, after four years of knowing him, I realized that even if Taeyong didn't get to have his 'thing', he had become mine. And there was a feeling of utter joy, happiness knowing that he would be here for a while.
I smiled, scared to wake up the next day, and have it all be a dream. But it wasn't. This was real.
Lee Taeyong was my 'thing' and I hoped that somewhere along the way, I would become his.
#taeyong fanfic#taeyong fluff#taeyong angst#taeyong#lee taeyong#taeyong imagines#taeyong au#nct au#nct 127#nct#nct scenarios#nct fanfic#nct taeyong#taeyong owns my sould bye#badboy!taeyong#bestfriend!taeyong#taeyong lee for president#bad boy taeyong#best friend taeyong#taeyong soft hours
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This isn't a writer's ask but I've been thinking about how much I love all of TEP but especially the backstory elements, I'm really curious what your current timeline for the Gloucester boys' childhood looks like. No pressure if it's not solid or if that's too many spoilers but I'd love to know more about how it's all laid out! Hope you're doing great!
Thank you so much for this, Macy! (This is gonna help me with some of it, just being able to write it out somewhere instead of just having it in my head... which is where it is right now). That being said, it’s not totally solid yet, just because I’m not entirely set on how I want this whole thing structured. I have somewhat of a general idea, but it’s not 100% there yet, so I’ll give you what I have (because these boys absolutely wreck me too so I completely understand). [And I don’t even care about spoilers anymore, I’m just going to tell all because it’s all still in the planning stages, so all subject to complete change hehehe].
- So Edgar’s mother, Margaret, was in her late teens when she married Gloucester, who was in his mid-twenties. They eventually had a son a few years later, Edgar, although he had no name for a year. Lear was off fighting in France and they wanted him to name the child (or at least Gloucester did). I’m feeling (and this might be too clean-cut) that Margaret started calling the boy “Thomas” in private. She didn’t want Lear to name the child, but eventually Gloucester got his way.
- In the meantime, Gloucester and Kent were sent off to France to help aid in the war effort. They both find themselves in a rough area one night, both of them sleeping with women they found on the street. One of those women is Edmund’s mother, Celine. Gloucester impregnates her and essentially leaves her to deal with this child that she has no money to raise. Celine, being a clever politician and knowing exactly who she slept with, persists in getting Gloucester to acknowledge the child and bring the boy back with him to England, much to his shame.
- Once Margaret finds that Gloucester has slept with this woman, and got a child out of her, and brought this child back to England. She is beyond heartbroken (this is when the naming for Edgar takes place, so it’s even worse for her). She becomes violently ill and Edgar is taken in by Christine, Albany’s governess, as is Edmund. She dies not long afterwards.
- The boys are raised together, becoming one another’s best friend as they are raised under Christine’s guidance, and she becomes a mother to them. Gloucester is only slightly involved in their upbringing until the boys get a little older, but he always seems to favor Edgar, and for a long time appears ashamed that Edmund’s in the picture at all. And you can bet that it reaches Edmund in a highly negative way, which makes Edgar upset. Edgar was always protective of his little brother, and would always call him ‘brother’ and nothing less.
- Edgar grows up wildly imaginative, somewhat theatrical, highly empathetic (which causes him to be sensitive beyond belief), kind, poetic, artistic, and eager to please. Edmund grows up somewhat advanced for his age (both of these boys did honestly, just in different ways), smart, also eager to please, also kind when he wants to be, stubborn, but highly capable.
- When the boys reach their teenage years, their duties start splitting. Edgar is taken under his father’s wing, schooled in military tactics, in law, in violence, in leadership (all things Edmund would love to learn). At first, being eager to please, Edgar is perceptible to all of this, wanting to be the man his father was. So he becomes very well read in law and in warfare. He basically has the whole world figured out by the time he’s sixteen. Then he starts seeing all the cracks in the wall, all the horribleness, everything that’s wrong with Lear’s awful regime. He starts spending more time on his own, only doing his duties because he’s afraid of the consequences of refusing. Edmund, in the meantime, is also being educated, but only as far as to join the army when he’s eighteen. It’s not the kind of attention he wants to be getting. Edmund would kill to be in his brother’s position.
- By the time Edgar’s eighteen, he’s anxious, misanthropic, losing faith in God, and when Christine dies, he becomes terrified of the idea of death. He is forced to join the army by his father. Albany promises Gloucester to look after Edgar, but Albany can see that Edgar is terribly unhappy. Edgar proves a terrible soldier, and even though he’s made ‘friends’ in the army, he loathes all of them for some reason or other. It’s also at the time that Lear and Gloucester agree that Edgar should marry Cordelia (the two of them are friends, but have never considered themselves lovers. They agree to go through with it for the sake of convenience).
- One night, around when Edgar’s nineteen, a group of Lear’s soldiers around Edgar’s age are all drunk, they make a petition to kill Lear and overthrow him at his jubilee parade, tired of all of the war and oppression that he’s been inflicting on the world outside. Edgar also signs the petition, but he’s completely sober. The petition ends up in Edgar’s coat pocket, and then it sits on his desk until the thought of this suicide mission drives him into a guilt-driven psychotic break. He spills ink all over his name, and also over his letters to Cordelia. Edmund catches him and calms him down enough to get him to a doctor, although Edgar has long since lost contact with reality. However, Edmund also sees Edgar’s treason, half-blotted out. He decides to save his brother by rewriting the petition without his brother’s name on it. He burns the other one. He hands the note back to one of the soldiers, hoping that they succeed because Edmund too strongly dislikes Lear.
- While Edmund saves his brother, he also betrays him. Jealous that his brother is to be married to Cordelia (and not believing that sickness to be as bad as it was), Edmund takes the ink-blotted letters and shows them to Lear, advising the king against the marriage as his brother is mad and clearly not in love with Cordelia, therefore completely ill-suited to be her husband. Lear agrees. Edmund joins the English army upon his eighteenth birthday. Cornwall takes him under his wing. Edmund enjoys the army, because everyone starts out on the same level and people only move up in the world through merit. He takes a nine-year tour in France, hoping to become a Major by the end (which he does).
- Edgar, meanwhile, recovers in Albany’s care. The jubilee plot falls through, but the group of knights on the new petition that Edmund drew up are all still executed. Edgar is removed from service due to his health. He eventually goes into public relations once he is well enough, working closely with Goneril. She is intensely jealous of Albany’s love for Edgar (which is going to play out in some way, but I’m not set on it yet). Edgar writes to Edmund during those nine years, never completely recovering, but he’s well enough to be on his feet. Edmund never reveals that he saved his brother, nor does he reveal that he was the one who destroyed Edgar’s possible marriage with Cordelia (although it probably would have fallen through on its own).
That’s what I’ve got so far! (Or at least these are ideas- they all need fleshing out and reorganizing, but here they are!) Thank you so much for this wonderful ask, Macy! (And for your constant support on this project - it means more than I can say!) Much love :)
#thank you so much for this macy!#much love#tep#the edgar project#edgar + edmund#my boys#the gloucester boys#my writing#writing#friends!#this was a joy to answer#and it helped me shuffle my ideas around a bit#so thank you so much!#:)
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