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keysmashingfantasies · 4 years ago

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An Old Fashioned Meet Cute

A/N: hi! this is my first fic here and i hope you like it. comments and constructive criticism is very much appreciated just please be nice and i tried not to describe nor reader nor the Hilda character too much apart from the fact that they are plus size so it can cater to more people (altough the Hilda character is a white woman originally, I left that out because I wanted everyone to be able to read it) :D. and a huge thank you to @divine-mistake for encouraging me to make this blog and post my fics. ily Tay <3, this one's for you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!plus size Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Bucky didn’t remember much of his life before the war. Not as much as he would like, anyway. But he was content to at least have remembered something. The memories of his teenage shenanigans with Steve always made him laugh. But there was a memory that he didn’t even know it was on his mind until that day when he accompanied Steve to the thrift shop. And until an Avengers party, where he met you.

“Steve, come on… Shouldn’t you be showing me the wonders of the modern world?”, he mocked. He knew Steve was doing his best, he did. But he knew that this wasn’t just a friends’ afternoon. And Bucky didn’t need a babysitter.

“I will! I just thought it would be nice to see something less overwhelming first and Sam told me a thrift store would be a nice place to start. Most of this stuff is new to us anyway”, Steve said, picking up a CD of a shelf.

“Yeah, ok”, he mumbled. The things he did for Steve. He mindlessly wandered through the little cluttered store, browsing the shelves full of knick knacks. He saw vinyls, old books, a great variety of toys, some paintings and an old fashioned vanity, with an old mirror, a few vintage perfume bottles, and… Oh.

“Steve?”, he said, picking up the old calendar that was propped up against the stained mirror. Carefully, he lifted the calendar up, looking at his friend. He had seen it before, he knew he did. He flipped through it as he waited for Steve to make his way across the store, careful to not bump in any of the tables containing delicate porcelain tea pots. His eyes scanned through the cover, a delicately painted picture of a curvy woman and with the saying “HILDA, 1940’s calendar” in bold red letters above it.

“Oh wow”, Steve let out a belly laugh. “You remember when we stole some of these? Man, we even took these to war”, he said. He started to remember. Him and Steve running, each one with a calendar in hand, flipping through the pages, Steve whining that he would never find a girl like that. He didn’t even think twice before taking it to the counter, with Steve giggling like a school girl behind him.

“For the memories, punk”, he said in a stern voice and a frown, but with pink dusted cheeks.

“Of course”, Steve said in a mocking voice.

“So, Tony’s throwing a party next weekend”, Steve said as he entered the training room.

“I prefer the thrift store”, Bucky mumbled, without tearing his eyes from the punching bag.

“Come on, Buck. I think it will be good for you to go”, Steve said. “It will be something small, Tony will introduce the new team assistant, so no eyes will be on you”, that got Bucky’s attention.

“Small?”, he said, pushing his hair from his face.

“Very”, Steve assured, but he had that look that Bucky knew very well from his young years; the look he would get when he was about to pick a fight. He was up to no good. But he didn’t want another trip to a dusty thrift store.

“Yeah, sure”, he mumbled.

You were shaking in your boots. Yeah, you knew that you would work for them, which meant that you inevitably would have to attend this kind of things. But this wasn’t like your former office jobs, no. You work for the Avengers now.

“You can do this. You have to. Do it for the paycheck”, you said, trying to reassure yourself as you shakily applied mascara. As you browsed through your wardrobe, you let out a sigh. You remembered shyly asking for advice on what to wear from Natasha, but you took it with a grain of salt. She could wear a potato sack and still look gorgeous, and you were… Well, a potato. You knew this was another test. If you couldn’t handle all eyes on you and the eventual bickering that was about to happen, you were not fit for the job. But damn, you at least expected a few weeks of taking care of documents and serving coffee before a party. In a room. With the, quoting the tabloid you read that very morning “super team that saves the world and looks hot doing it!”. You were a pretty confident person. But this… Anyone would be nervous.

“You can do this”, you told yourself one more time before heading out.

When you got to the party, not everyone was there. You politely greeted everyone with a nod, and gave your name to the ones you didn’t have the pleasure to meet yet.

“You, pick your poison”, Tony Stark pointed at you while walking to the bar.

“No, thank you, Mr. Stark, I won’t be drinking tonight”, you managed to say, silently thanking all the gods above (even the one that was sitting not too far from you) that you managed to hold back the quiver in your voice.

“She doesn’t want to be vulnerable around us. Smart, I like her”, said Natasha. Sometimes you wonder if she was a telepath like Wanda.

“Is there anything wrong, Y/N? I sense that you are uneasy”, asked Vision, with those glassy unblinking eyes. You wondered if he was in your mind that very moment.

“Gee, I wonder why”, said Rhodes, before taking a sip of his drink.

“I’m okay, just… A bit nervous, that’s all”, you said.

“Well, then you definitely need a drink”, said Tony, handing you a glass of champagne that no doubt cost the same as your previous paycheck.

Soon enough, the awkwardness made way to pleasant conversation. You laughed as you listened to their banter. It wasn’t like any business party you ever attended. No, it was more like a family gathering than anything.

The sounds of the elevator doors opening caught you attention as three men wide as refrigerators walked in, followed closely by a pretty young woman. Of course you knew them. You read all about them. Especially The Winter Soldier, the little devil on your shoulder taunting you by remembering you of every single time you talked to your friend about your crush on him.

“Sorry we’re late guys, Steve went to pick me up before the party and we had dinner”, said the blonde, linking her arm with Steve Rogers himself.

“Nah, Sharon, don’t cover his ass. We were late because the three of us had to wrestle Barnes into changing out of that old ass Henley”, said Sam.

Instantly, Tony and Natasha cheered and raised their glasses, making you laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, very funny”, said a gruff voice coming from the bar, making you turn your head, seeing Bucky Barnes open a beer bottle with his vibranium hand. 'How did he sneak past everyone?', your thoughts were interrupted as you took him in. You wanted to personally thank Sam, Steve and Sharon for making him wear that tight fitting black shirt.

“Well, Y/N, here’s Capsicle, Mrs. Capsicle, New Captain, and Snowflake. Guys, this is Y/N, the new assistant. Oh, and there’s Spider Boy but he’s on curfew, Strange had to hop out of the dimension and Scott but he’s… He’s somewhere out there being small, I don’t know. Watch were you step, just to be safe”, said Tony

“Hi”, you gave a shy wave, being greeted right back.

If it wasn’t for the serum, Bucky is absolutely sure he would have a heart attack on the spot. You were wearing red heels, a form fitting black pencil skirt and a white button up blouse and he could see your curves, your strong arms, your thighs. You looked absolutely amazing. You look like one of the girls that Bucky would’ve rushed to ask for a dance back in the day. But what really made him stare is the fact that your body type looked eerily similar to the character of the calendar he spent an embarrassing amount of time staring.

As your eyes scanned the room as you were bombarded with questions, Bucky made sure to avoid your gaze, looking everywhere but your face: his shoes, the ceiling, the armrest on the couch, Steve’s shit eating grin. Oh. So THAT’S what it was about. Little shit.

Even avoiding your gaze, he made sure to keep his ears open. A man could be interested, right?

By the time the party ended, Thor and Bruce were sleeping, Tony was buzzed walking around singing Iron Maiden, Natasha and Sharon were talking, Steve and Sam were giggling like two school girls, Rhodes went home and Vision and Wanda were talking and looking out the window to the New York skyline.

Which left you – and Bucky – alone.

“Uhhh. I guess I’ll start cleaning, then”, you said. Your face was on fire. The only person that you were sure didn’t like you and you were awkwardly standing, not knowing where to look and what to say. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him but damn it, you were not going to lose this opportunity because of a school girl crush. So you decided to keep yourself occupied by taking some empty glasses and bottles from the table and taking them to the kitchen.

“Oh, come on, Y/N! Let the cleaning crew deal with this in the morning!”, said Natasha.

“No, no, I don’t mind. I like to keep myself busy”, you said with a smile. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. You only hoped she couldn’t see how awkward you were.

“I’ll help”, he said, picking up some glasses and following you.

“You can pick up more of these glasses and I can start washing them”, he said. “I- I noticed you got your nails done, so…”, he said, and you shyly looked away while thanking him and making your way out of the kitchen.

In no time, the room was getting emptier. Vision and Wanda went home and Thor took Banner back to New Asgard. And you were almost done with the dishes, having also gotten rid of most of the empty food containers. As you both cleaned, you and Bucky got a bit more comfortable with each other.

“I’m sorry for seeming a bit standoffish earlier”, he said suddenly. “I’m not used to parties and I don’t know how new people will react to me. Especially pretty women”, you smiled at the compliment, but felt your heart ache. You were so caught up in your insecurities that you didn’t even consider his side of things.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I don’t know how you feel but by what I’ve seen and heard, you have a family here. You’re out there fighting to save the world. Trying your best. This is redemption enough, don’t you think?”, you said as you put the glasses to dry, missing the awestruck look that Bucky sent you, a goofy smile making its way into his features. “Okay, you wait here and I’ll get what’s left”.

You were back in no time. “Okay, so just more two champagne flutes and one plate left”, you said but before you could give the dishes to Bucky, you slipped, and if it wasn’t for Bucky’s reflexes, you would’ve fallen hard. You yelped as the sound of breaking glass hit your ears and for a second you two just stared at each other, before Bucky pulled you closer and back to a standing position.

“Thanks”, you said as he helped you straighten up.

“Your ankle, does it hurt?”, he said.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so”, you said.

“Ah, I think it does. And I can’t let a dame go home alone on a hurt ankle”, he said, giving you a dashing smile.

“You know what, now that you’ve said it, it hurts really bad”, you said, catching on. “You know what’s amazing for a bad ankle?”, you asked, and the gentle smile in your lips and the mischievous glint in your eyes made his heart piston inside of his chest.

"What?", he said softly, stepping closer, like you were sharing secrets.

“Ice cream and a walk on the park. Very therapeutical”, you said, making Bucky laugh.

Before you knew it, Bucky had already scooped you up into his arms and rushedly announced that you had slipped and fell, whisking you away into the elevator.

“Dude, that took all night”, said Sam. “This is the smooth guy you told me about?”, he said, while Steve and Sharon laughed.

While everyone got ready to go home, Scott came out of the kitchen in his Ant-Man suit eating some leftovers.

“Someone owes me 20 bucks for making her trip”.

#bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x chubby reader

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mxtcha-tea · 4 years ago

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domestic shiratorizawa

⊹summary; the life inside the dorms of shiratorizawa

⊹pilots; gn![y/n], ushijima, tendou, semi, yamagata, reon, kawanishi, shirabu, goshiki (pairings showed; yamagata x reader, goshiki x reader)

⊹genre; fluff, crack and some cursings (no proofread)

⊹flight details; i've once made a domestic imagines in my old blog so imma make a small reboot of it <3

random shopping

normal day, normal life. you could've seen yourself laying or even napping in your room while a compilation of minecraft songs plays in the background. but no. instead, you're inside an antique shop with Yamagata, Ushijima and Tendou.

you have no idea when, or how did the process happened but you surely is done with getting dragged inside the shop by Tendou and Yamagata.

while Ushijima's stuck on a section, you don't know where, but he's definitely stuck there, "[y/n]! look at what i found,"

Yamagata called you as you turned around to see him holding up a pretty heavy doll. you raise your brow, "what the hell is that?" walking towards him and taking a closer look at the object in hand,

"i think it's a, um, i think a matryoska doll? matroyska? is that how you say it?" "why're you asking me, i don't know jack shit about russian stuff,"

"ah you mean, matryoshka doll?" Tendou butted in, startling you two, "it's also called a 'nesting doll' and did you actually know that it was actually originated from china?"

Yamagata's eyes practically sparkled at that with a surprised look, "from china? really?"

you can only roll your eyes, "and how can you even know all that?" Tendou snickered and put on a smug face, "i'm actually very smart, y'know. ya'll just don't know about it," "says the person in class 2,"

"i blame the mathematic old hags for adding letters in math, and the apple that fucking hit my man Isaac," you tsk'ed and walk towards the next section. Yamagata passive aggressively put the matryoshka doll down and follow after you along with Tendou,

"also, we need to find ushijima, i think he's stuck in some section between here...ah there," you stopped walking and turn to your right where you find Ushijima reading a book.

Tendou skipped towards him and smack his shoulder, "you okay, wakatoshi-kun? you sure did took longer to look at the stuff here," while Tendou chats with Ushijima, Yamagata look up at the shelves as something caught his eyes.

he tried to reach it while tip toing but due to his height, he can't reach it. then, he jumped from his spot to grab the object but end up hitting his head onto the board, "AGH, FUCK!" which causes you all to look at him, watching him hold his head while shivering from the pain,

"are you okay, yamagata?" ushijima ask, putting back the book on the shelves, "yeah, yeah, i'm just tryna get that," he shakes his head before pointing up.

you followed his finger and caught a glimpse of an old polaroid. it's a little bit dusty but other than that, it looks new. Ushijima reached it from his spot and managed to grab it, "here,"

he hands it to Yamagata as he instantly recovered from his recent pain and snatch it from Ushijima's hand, subtly thanking him with a grin, "why do you even need a polaroid?" Tendou asked, leaning his arm over Ushijima's shoulder with one brow up,

"pfft, for journaling of course,"

a gust of wind went through you while staring at him with a poker face, the same with Tendou with a small cat like smile. Ushijima just looked the same,

"okay," "WHAT'S WITH THE TONE??" you blinked and just knit your eyebrows, "i mean, since when you started journaling? you're not even the type of person to do something aesthetic,"

he pouted and just crosses his arms, "so what? that doesn't mean i can't do it, right? have faith in me god darn it. and honestly, my journal looks good so far," "well, fine,"

you waved your hand at him and continue going through the other section. and just like that, "hey wait!" Yamagata tailed after you.

Tendou snickered at the two and focus back on Ushijima, who's still watching the display yet again, "have you thought of what to buy wakatoshi-kun?" "i'm not sure, there's a lot of interesting stuff here," "well, you've only been in this section but okay~"

studying

"agh, why did those idiots really have to call me at this time...?"

you groaned, slowly walking through the halls with a slouched figure. tracing your fingers along the wall with a dejected look. you're suppose to sleep today.

an hour or two long sleep. it's finally the weekend which means the time for you to sleep all of your problems away. drifting into slumber with fluffy pillows and warm blankets, enjoying your dream as long as you can.

until your ringtone annoyingly rings next to your ear. you answer the call, and again greeted by the most annoying human in the planet,

"[y/n], we need you at the gym right now!"

"huh? oh fuck off Tendou, i need to sleep right now,"

"nuh uh, you can sleep later after you go to the gym,"

"why? are you, i don't know, practicing or something?"

"you have to find out. if you don't move your ass from that bed, we'll send Hayato to wake you up~"

". . ."

and now, you find yourself standing in front of the door of shiratorizawa's volleyball gym. not only that Tendou wakes you up from your sleep, you also had to WALK all the way from your dorm to the gym,

"i'm gonna add more time to their practices after this..."

sliding the door open, you expect them to be doing serves or maybe spikes.

but instead, you're seeing them—as in the 3rd years—all sitting down at the middle of the court, with books around them.

and what's even more confusing is that they somehow managed to bring a table inside. no, not the flip-able table.

literally a whole ass table.

Reon looks up from his book and notices your figure standing on the door way. he waves his hand at you, you did the same but still with a confused look.

Yamagata was next to see you as he abruptly stand up from his spot, shaking the table in the process,

"Hayato! stop shaking the table," "oops, sorry. ah, wait, [y/n]!"

that caught all of the boys attention as they look at you, "what taking you so long to arrive?" Tendou asked, a pen rested in between his upper lip and nose.

Semi smacked him in the face—earning an 'ow'—before shaking his head,

"their dorm is literally far from the gym, and why do you even proposed your idea of studying at the gym anyway?"

you make your way towards them, Reon patting the empty spot next to him. you sat down on your spot as Yamagata did the same. seemed like he was waiting for you.

Tendou rubbed his nose and pouted at Semi, "this was the best place to study anyway! it have much more room,"

"we should've gone to the cafeteria OR the LIBRARY," Semi groaned, looking back at his book before writing on it,

"pfft, the cafeteria's no fun. and i got banned from the library," Reon looks at Tendou with confusion, "well, it's not surprising,"

Tendou shrugged, "i was also banned from the library," Ushijima said, not looking up from his notes as you knit your eyebrows at that,

"you're also banned from the library? Satori, what did you and Ushijima did—" "anyways, um,"

he cut you off, fidgeting with his pen before pointing it at you, "right, you need to tutor us on this subject~!"

you blinked, looking down at the book they're studying about, "haven't the teacher covered this already?"

"well, i'm sorry, class 6. but we have no idea how this thing works. maybe only Reon, but look at Semi,"

Tendou wrapped his arm around Semi's neck, practically head locking him, "he's from class 1 and i think you should teach him about this the most," "I'll rip your fucking head off, Tendou!"

while both of them tried to strangle each other, Yamagata caught your attention next,

"and also, it won't be fun without you, y'know," Reon nodded, "and don't forget that you can't leave me alone in this,"

"oh right," "hm? what was that?" Yamagata asked. you just shake your head with a defeated smile, "nothing..."

after clearing your throat, you snatched Semi's book away before flipping through the pages,

"okay you scumbags, it's time to learn,"

oblivious enough

the birds chirped from the tree, the hallway's as loud as ever. Semi and Tendou's leaning against the window, each of them drinking apple juice and eating yakisoba bread.

it was silence between them before Semi spoke, "hey, Tendou," "yes Semi-Semi?" "y'know,"

Semi turned his head to look at Tendou as the redhead did the same, "have you, noticed the relationship between [y/n] and Yamagata lately?"

the latter made a thinking face, before nodding, "hm, seems so,"

"do you think, either one of them ever noticed about it?" Tendou shakes his head at the question, "nope, i don't think they do. in fact, they might be completely oblivious to it,"

Semi snickered, "right, like that one time..."

"[y/n], do you think my lips are dry right now?"

you look up from your clipboard, seeing Yamagata pointing his lips, "hm, nah. they're fine, but if you want, i can but on some lip balm,"

his eyes sparkled at that as he nodded his head with excitement, "sure!" you walk towards your bag with Yamagata following you. opening the zipper and search inside it, you pull out your lip balm,

"here, hold still," you put a hand on his cheek while the other applies lip balm onto his lips. it was a slow process but he managed to not move at all while making eye contact with you.

once you finished applying, he pop his lips before humming, "mn, cherry," "let me know if you need anything else,"

he nodded with now flushed cheeks as he smile at you. you did the same, gently patting his arm.

from a distance, Shirabu looks at them with a disgusted look, "ugh, can't they be more subtle about it,"

Kawanishi shrugged, "just let them be,"

"how can i redo my memory? i don't need to see that this early," "well, what if it was us?" "i would be twice as grossed, i can put my own lip balm," "hm yeah, you're right, i honestly would be like that too," "good,"

"haha yeah, now that i think about it, they do it all the time right?" Tendou nodded at Semi's statement before hearing the all too familiar voice just a few meters away from them,

"[y/n]!"

you turned your head around while still sipping your drink. Yamagata stood in front of you, holding out his visibly crumpled necktie with a small smile,

"my necktie!" "ah again? whatever," you give your drink to him as he hold it for you.

grabbing the necktie from his hand, looping it around his collar shirt and started tying it with a concentrated look,

"i can't say that it'll be clean when i finished tying it," "it's okay! that's why i'm asking you to do it, messy or not, at least i have it on," "hm, yeah,"

after you finished tying it and patting it a little, Yamagata hugged you, "thank you!" "yeah, you're welcome,"

the aura literally radiates on the slightly crowded hallway as some of the students who passed you talked among themselves.

Semi and Tendou stared at you two, expressionless eyes but with a small smile,

'ah, right,'

Tendou sighed, intertwining his fingers together and lifting it up to his cheeks, "ah, young love~"

"we're all the same age,"

"young love~"

bonus; reliable kouhai

lifeless.

is what goshiki would say when he took a few glances at you from his book. you promised to tutor him about this subject he's struggling on. but didn't really expect to see your slouched form walking inside the library.

he's not even sure if you even hear anything you're saying right now, "get a shovel and two-" your head hit the table, creating a loud sound and catching the attention of almost everyone inside the library,

"[y/n]-senpai, um, are you okay??" you groaned and rapidly blink your eyes, covering your forehead, "yeah, 'm just..."

a yawn escaped from your mouth before you can even finish your sentence, "...tired. those stupid senpais of yours need help tutoring too even tho being grown ass men,"

goshiki closes his book and creating a small 'thump', snapping you out from your mind,

"well, if that so then you didn't have to come, you could've just tell me and i would be fine with it!" your hoarse laugh caught him off guard as a shade of red ran across his cheeks, "i can't break a promise, tsutomu. why do you even think i agree on tutoring you?"

"uh, cause you want to help me with my studies?" "one of it, and cause i enjoy tutoring you," he can feel his cheeks heating up more when you made eye contact with him, a small smile laced upon your face,

"and honestly, you're smarter than i thought. class 4 right? that's cool," he looked away, trying to calm his nerves down, "t-thanks! a lot of people thought i was in a lower class, so i, i appreciate it,"

goshiki took a peek at you, now burying your face onto your face, "also, senpai," "hm?"

"you should take a nap for now, i think i can start understanding this formula," you slightly look up at him, "you sure? i was prolly talking craps just now," "yeah! your health is more important anyway,"

you hum, offering him a warm smile, "thanks, i know i can count on you," you rested onto your side and close your eyes. lips slightly parted and just like that, you're deep in your dreams.

he pursed his lips, slowly leaning against the table to look at your face. it's calm, peaceful and beautiful, kissable lips. he wonder if he could lean in a little closer until you two-

goshiki instantly jolted up and hit himself on the head, face's covered in the color red, 'no! don't think about that, curse you Tendou-San for introducing me to those mangas...'

Tendou's faces ran across his mind as he grunted,

'why're they so pretty??'

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baekbyunny · 6 years ago

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Chanyeol’s Valentine Disaster

Summary: Chanyeol tries his best to sweep you off your feet for Valentine’s Day, but things don’t go exactly as planned….

Genre: Fluff + a little bit of angst

Author’s Note: Hellooo, this fic was for a v-day collaboration I’m doing with a group of wonderful writers. The theme was “failed Valentine dates” and I chose Chanyeol :) It’s suppose to be a one shot, but tumblr is being a butt so I’ll need to make it two parts. Sorry about that! It’s a late Valentine’s Day gift, but oh well ^-^;;

This is also my first fic so please excuse me if there are any errors.

Shoutout to @yuki-starlight for checking my spelling and thank you @lucyandthepen for inviting me~

I hope you guys enjoy!

Part 2 is on my blog!

_________________________________________

You woke up in your bed, slightly freezing from the drift of the open window beside you. You were about to fall back asleep until you caught the scent of something awry in the air.

Is something burning?, you think to yourself. Your eyes immediately fly open when you hear the fire detector go off, pushing yourself off the bed, you run towards the kitchen.

“Chanyeol?” You cry out as you frantically wave the fumes of smoke out of your face.

You look through the smoke and see your boyfriend wearing a frilly pink apron in the smoky haze desperately trying to open a waffle iron with some silver tongs from the top drawer. He freezes after hearing your voice and turns to look at you.

“Y/N! You’re awake!” Quickly glancing from the blackened waffle in the waffle iron and then back to your face he tries to hide the burnt mess by putting it out of your view.

“This isn’t what it looks like?” He says meekly making it sound more like a question rather than a statement.

Sighing to yourself, you ask, “What in the world are you doing? It’s only 8 A.M. and our apartment is about to go up in flames.”

He sheepishly looks at you and replies, “I was planning on making you breakfast in bed and well,” He pauses and glances to the waffle iron on his right, “things didn’t go as planned.”

You sigh and chuckle to yourself. Looking around, you try and assess how much damage the tall giant has done to your kitchen. You see a tall wine glass filled with milk, a piece of burnt toast, and some badly chopped fruit in what looks like an outline of a gremlin on a heart-patterned tray you never knew you had.

Should I ask him what that’s supposed to be?, you refrain yourself from questioning him after looking at the downcast look on his face. You gently grab his arm and hold onto it while cupping his right cheek with your other.

You tilt your head upward slightly to see his face. “Chanyeol, this is very sweet of you to do, but you really didn’t have to. We both know what you’re like in the kitchen without someone supervising you.”

He looks down with a gloomy look on his face, closes his eyes and sighs, “I know, but it’s Valentine’s Day and I wanted to do something special for you. You seemed a little stressed this past week so I thought I could cheer you up a little. Plus, I wanted to take a picture of the food after I was done with it and send it to Kyungsoo to show him that I CAN cook without his help.”

Laughing, you try and fix the messy strands in his curly brown hair. “Thanks for trying, honey. The sentiment was nice enough for me and I,” you pause while glancing to the clock behind him and gasp, “I’m late!”

Letting go of his arm, you rush to the bathroom and prepare yourself for work. After putting on your usual formal attire for work, you come running back out to see him wearing a pair of pink rubber gloves scrubbing pieces of badly burned waffle batter off the waffle iron. He’s so sweet, you think and smile to yourself while rushing over to the shoe rack to put on your heels. After putting them on, you head for the door.

Realizing you’re about to leave, Chanyeol turns away from the sink, grabs a paper bag from the kitchen counter, and makes his way over to you. “Wait! Here, I made lunch for you. I swear it’s not burnt or anything.” He reassures you while handing it over to you.

“Aw, thanks sweetie! I’ll see you tonight!” grabbing the paper bag from his hand, you quickly walk over to him and give him a quick peck on the lips.

“Bye, Yeol!” you yell out to him and rush out the door while walking backwards to wave at him as you slowly make your way to the car.

“Bye, love you!” he yells out, waving back to you as he watches you from the door of your apartment. “Love you too!” You yell back, smiling to yourself while walking to your car.

You and Chanyeol have been dating for the past year and a half and it’s been wonderful. Sure you had some small arguments on things like what to watch on Netflix or who should wash the dishes or do the laundry, but you guys never had any big fights so things never got too bad.

There were some times where you both argued about the lack of time spent together considering how he had to spend most of his time at home composing songs on his computer and how you had to go and work at the office, but you both understood that your jobs were important and how much it meant to you both so those fights never lasted too long.

You could never really stay mad at him for it anyway. Especially when you saw how his eyes would gleam and how excited he would get talking about his new songs with you. That’s why every now and then, you guys would splurge on some money you two saved up the past and take a small vacation to places like the mountains or the beach to makeup for the little time you guys had together.

He wasn’t your first boyfriend though. You’ve been through some break ups in the past, but Chanyeol had a way where when you were with him, everything felt new and different. You never felt happier than when you were with him and you felt like he brought the best out of you. He could always make you feel better whenever you felt down and he could make you laugh so hard to the point tears were coming out of your eyes. You loved every second of your time with him, but you just wished you could actually have more time in the day to be together.

_________________________________________

Upon entering the office building, you push a button on the side of the wall for the elevator to come down.

I wonder if Chanyeol is done cleaning the kitchen, you think to yourself. I hope he didn’t leave the stove on or anything.

Before your brain could continue to think of all the disasters that might have happened in the house after you left, you see the elevator doors open and you walk inside.

Right when the elevator doors are about to shut, you hear someone call out to you, “Y/N, wait up!” You immediately push the button on the left wall to open the elevator doors and see your co-worker and friend, Baekhyun, jogging to you.

“Glad to see I’m not the only one late this time.” He says with a smile on his face.

You scoff at his joke and reply, “I would have been on time if my kitchen wasn’t up in smoke this morning.” His eyes widen and he asks you to explain what you’re talking about and you explain the disastrous episode in the kitchen to him.

“He really almost made your kitchen explode!” He exclaims astonished.

“You should have seen the look on his face when I caught him trying to open the waffle iron with tongs! He looked like a kid who got caught trying to steal candy from a supermarket.” Laughing, you both make your way out of the elevator when the doors open.

“Meet up for lunch?” He asks you.

“Yeah, sure! I’ll see you later.” You reply.

Giving you a thumbs up, he walks to his desk and begins to type on his computer. You walk to yours and sigh after seeing all the papers on your desk neatly lined up in a pile next to your laptop.

It’s gonna be a long day, brushing off your negative thoughts, you get to work.

_________________________________________

“I need a break.” You murmur to yourself while looking at your computer screen

Looking at the time on the clock on the wall, you see it’s time for lunch. Glancing to your left, you wonder if Baekhyun is still at his desk and you snort to yourself after you see him dozing off while the game, Solitaire, is displayed on his computer screen.

You make your way to his desk and shake his right shoulder. “Baek, wake up.”

Stirring a little, his eyebrows furrow, “Just go and get the cheese. No one’s watching.” he mumbles

Snickering you shake him harder, “Baekhyun, come on! It’s time for lunch. You can get the cheese you want over there.”

His eyes slowly opened and he looks up at you squinting for a good few seconds. “Mom?” He says out loud with a tone of confusion.

Bursting out with laughter you reply, “Yes, dear?”

Rubbing his eyes, he looks at you again and realizes that it’s actually you and not his mother. You’re bent over with laughter while he gives you a deadpan look. “Oh, haha. Very funny. Is it time for lunch already?”

Wiping the tears of joy from your eyes, you tease him by using you best baby voice, “Yeah, it’s time for wunch. Let’s go, sweetie. Do you wanna take your wittle wunch box with you?”

“Stop!” He whines putting his face in hands while his cheeks turn to a dusty red. “Let’s just go already.”

Laughing you reply, “Okay okay, let me just get the lunch from my bag.”

You walk to your desk and grab your lunch bag in your purse, but you notice that something feels off.

Why does this bag feel so light? you wonder and stick your hand in the paper bag and pull out a red rose.

You smile softly and as you look at it and reach back into the bag only to feel nothing inside.

What? He only got me a rose for lunch? You feel a buzz in your pocket and you pull out your phone.

*You have one new message!*

Unlocking your phone, you check the notification and realize it’s from Chanyeol.

Yeollie: Y/N

Yeollie: I FORGOT TO PUT YOUR SANDWICH IN THE BAG

Yeollie: I’M SO SORRY

Yeollie: D,:

“Oh my gosh.” You murmur

Y/N: lol

Y/N: It’s ok, I’ll just get some lunch from the. cafeteria

Yeollie: BUT I MADE IT OUT OF LOVE

MY LOVE

Y/N: Omg Yeol, it’s fine really

Yeollie: I’m sorry :’(

Y/N: The sentiment was nice enough

Thank you for the rose btw. Very sweet of you ♡

Yeollie: It would have been better with the sandwich I made you >:(

You laugh at his childish behavior and reply

Y/N: Yeeoooool, its ok! Really!

Yeollie: I’ll make it up to you I swear

Y/N: lol I’ll keep you to it then

gonna go get lunch ttyl!

Yeollie: Ok :(

Ily ♡

Y/N: I ly 2 ♡

“What’s up?” Baekhyun asks curious as to why it’s taking so long for you to get your lunch. Glancing at the paper bag in your hand, he grabs it from you.

“Chanyeol forgot to put my lunch in the bag”, you reply

He takes out the rose and admires it for a few seconds, “Well, at least he gave you a rose.” His eyes widen, “You think if you just put the petals in water, you’ll get rose water?”

He playfully hits you on the shoulder, “You could sell it by the bottle and make a nice load of money off of it!”.

You raise your eyes to the roof of the office and contemplate on how you became friends with someone so dumb.

“Baekhyun, I’m pretty sure that’s not how you make rose water.” You reply unamused. “Anyways, let’s go to the cafeteria. I’m starving!”

“Fine, but if that’s not how you make it, then why do they call it rose water? How do you think they make it?” He questions you as you both make your way to the see-through elevator

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “I don’t know, Baek. Look it up.” And made your way to the cafeteria.

_________________________________________

“That will be $7.99, please.” The cashier states while looking at the numbers on the screen of her computer.

“Here you go.” You reply and give her the cash from your wallet. After receiving your change, you put the change of coins in the see-through tipping jar that has “Feed Me Please!” inscribed on it.

Taking your tray of food you turn to the tables behind you and see Baekhyun waving to you while Chen is on the opposite side of the table motioning to you to come to where they are sitting.

Seating yourself down next to Baekhyun, you greet Chen on the other side of the table.

“How’s your day been, Chen?” You ask.

“Dreadful, you won’t believe what happened at my office today,” He says and put his hands on his face. “I opened the door to my office and the first thing I see is my trash can on fire and Sehun screaming while trying to dose it out with a water bottle.”

“Who’s Sehun?” Baekhyun asks.

“Just a co-worker of mine. He kept screaming ‘Chen, you’re trash can is mad! Hurry and call 911!’ So I just grabbed the bucket of fire and ran to the bathroom and took it out.”

“Damn, Chen, you’ve got some balls to actually hold it.” Baekhyun says while shaking his head impressed. “I would’ve just called the fire department. But wow, is this fire situation contagious or something? First it’s Y/N and now you. Am I gonna get the disease too?” Baekhyun questions with an infliction of fear in his voice.

You scoff at Baekhyun and his dramatics while Chen looks between you and Baekhyun in confusion

“What’s he talking about?” Chen asks with his eyebrows furrowed. He looks at you and asks, “Did something happen to you?”

You explain to Chen what happened in the morning with Chanyeol in full detail.

“That idiot!” Chen exclaims with a look of disbelief on his face, “How could he be so dumb?” He asks.

“Chanyeol is Chanyeol.“ Baekhyun says while putting a hand on his heart and gives the two of you a sincere look. "As his best friend, I have seen the ups and downs of that man. Once, he managed to trip over a can of Pepsi on the floor NINE times.” He lifts up his hands and shows nine digits for emphasis. “All in thirty minutes!” He raises both of his arms in exasperation.

“There was another time,” he continues while trying to hold back his laughter. “Where he thought his phone was his cup of water and he threw the cup of water on his bed instead of his phone.” Letting out a boisterous laugh, Chen looks at you, “You’ve got quite the man, Y/N.”

Snorting you reply, “Hey look, he might now be the brightest, but he IS the sweetest. He always does his best to comfort me when I’m having period cramps. He’ll rub my back and give me chocolate and he waits for me when I come home from work late. Plus, he’s taking me out to dinner tonight at some fancy restaurant for Valentine’s Day.”

You see the look on both of their faces and chuckle with how disgusted they look. “Don’t look so grossed out, guys. You’ll think it’s cute when you find someone to do these kinds of things with.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes and gives you a pointed look, “I’ll have you know I can have all those cute mushy moments with someone. I just haven’t found them yet.” Grabbing his cup of water on the table, he takes a sip and continues. “I’ll meet the girl of my dreams one day. We’ll lock eyes and then I’ll walk over to her and introduce myself and boom!” Baekhyun says while using his hands to gesture an explosion. “Next thing you know we’ll be married with a kid living in a mansion.”

“Woah, hold on there,” Chen interjects. “You might want to try and take her out on a date first. But one kid? Really? I always felt like you would want more.”

“Mm, I’ve thought about it, but that’s just so much work and I want to spend a lot of my time with my wife.” Baekhyun replies, resting his chin on the palm of his hand with a dreamy look in his eyes and a goofy smile.

You snort and Chen looks to you, eyes widening as if he remembered something. “Speaking of kids, are you going to be babysitting that toddler tomorrow? It’s every other Sunday right?”

“Ah, yeah. That’s what the plan is anyway.” You say while shrugging. “He’s a real cutie. His mom is pretty smart. She gave me a bag full of the boy’s stuff just in case she had to leave him with me in case of an emergency.”

“Oh, that’s smart of her.” Chen agrees.

“Isn’t it? Anyways back to the topic at hand, how’s your love life been, Chen?” You question him. “We’ve given you our daily update, what’s yours?”

“I’m actually better off by myself. Thank you very much.” Chen states with his head slightly lifted and a haughty expression on his face.

You and Baekhyun stare at him in silence for a good five seconds before he continues.

“What? You don’t think I can be a strong independent man?” He questions the two of you with his upper eyebrows raised.

After another few seconds of silence, his shoulders droop and he sighs

“Well, you’re right.” he admits, immediately putting his head in his arms that are resting on the table and starts to whine. “I’ve gone on so many dates and I still can’t find a man that can reach at least the minimum of my expectations! Is God being cruel? Does he not like me? Why am I this unlucky?”

You look at his depressed state with pity. You’ve known Chen for a good five years. The two of you met in college and became friends after meeting at a party. The both of you didn’t drink so you two were the only two sober kids there and quickly became friends after realizing you both liked the same show. You knew Chen was always looking for the right guy to come his way and you started to feel pity for him since he wasn’t having any luck in that area for quite some time now.

Feeling sympathy for him, you pat his head and try to reassure him. “Aw, come on Chen! I’m sure the right guy will come along soon! You just need to keep trying!”

You notice Baekhyun suddenly sits up straight and claps his hand together. “Oh, that reminds me! I think you might be interested in this guy I met at that one club I go to. He’s got everything you’re looking for! He’s smart, funny, kind, and financially stable. You guys even watch the same television shows!”

Chen instantly lifts his head with a surprised look on his face and asks, “You found someone who watches Strong Woman Do Bong Soon? ”

“The one with the Hulk lady right?”

Chen nods quickly.

“Yeah, he watches it too. Here’s his phone number.” He slides a small piece of ripped paper with the man’s number scribbled on it to Chen. “His name is Minseok Kim and he’s an accountant. I have a feeling you two will hit it off.” Baekhyun says smugly while giving a wink.

Chen takes the piece of paper off the table and inputs the number scrawled on it as a new contact on his phone. “Thanks, Baek. Let’s hope you’re right about this.”

You see Chen’s eyes wander to the time on the top right screen of his phone and he quickly stands up, “Shoot, I’m late for my meeting. I got to go and do my presentation on electronics and what it does to children. I’ll see you guys later!”

“We better hear more about you and Minseok the next time we see you!” You yell out to him while Chen gives you a thumbs up and runs to the elevator almost tripping on a small white napkin on the marbled floor. The two of you wince as you watch him stumble on his way to the elevator.

“I swear that man needs to be more careful.” You murmur and Baekhyun nods in agreement. You look down at your watch and realize lunchtime is about to be over.

“Well, it’s time to head back to work,” you say and you put your phone in your left back pocket of your jeans. “Come on, Baek.” You tell him while nudging your head to the elevator.

Baekhyun’s slouches in his seat and moans while using his best baby voice, “But Mom! I don’t wanna go.”

You laugh seeing him pout at you and you’re surprised that he’s actually wanting to play along now. You respond with a motherly tone, “Come on sweetie, lunchtime is over. If you work hard enough in class, I’ll let you have nappy time early today.”

His eyes widen, “Really? You mean that, Mommy?”

“Mhm.” You hum while nodding.

“Okay, Mommy! I’ll be good and clean up my mess.”

He then stands up and makes a heart over his head with his arms and shouts, “I love you, mom!” in front of the whole cafeteria.

You immediately look around and see that some of the people in the cafeteria are looking at the two of you with a shocked look on their faces.

“Baekhyun!” You hiss and look back at him only to see a smug and cocky look in his eyes. You drag him out of the cafeteria and once the two of you are out of sight, you slap him on the arm. “You idiot! People are gonna think you’re my son now!”

He grins, “What’s the matter, Mom?”

You glare and respond, “Haha, you got me. Now quit it.”

“And what will you do if I don’t?” He challenges you with his arms folded.

“Well,” You pause and look back at him with a wicked grin and a look in your eyes that causes Baekhyun’s cocky demeanor to change. He takes a step back out of fear of not knowing what you’re planning to do.

You take a step closer and yell, “I’ll just do this!” You put his head in a headlock and ruffle his light brown hair messing up his perfectly styled hair.

“Y/N! I spent an hour on this!” he shrieks

“Y/N? What happen to mommy?” You tease him.

“I won’t call you that again I swear!” He pleads.

“Okay, good!” You say and let go of his head. “Glad we could handle this in a civil like manner.”

You pat your jeans wiping off any dust from them while Baekhyun scowls at you.

“You can be a real demon sometimes.” Baekhyun murmurs while he tries to pat down all the loose hair strands on his head with his right hand.

“It’s all out of love, my dear,” You reply with a sugary tone in your voice and pull out a small purple hairbrush from your brown leather purse. “Here, use this. You’re lucky I brought this with me otherwise you’d look like you just got out of bed for the rest of the day.” You say and hand him the hairbrush. “Go to the bathroom and fix it.”

Grabbing the hairbrush out of your hand, he responds, “I’ll meet you back at the office.”

You look at him and ask him with a bit of uncertainty, “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait for you? You usually complain if I try and leave.”

He nods, “Yeah, this might take a while.”

You nod back, “Ok, I’ll see you there then. Don’t stay in there too long. You know how Kyungsoo gets when he doesn’t see you working.” You say as you slowly walk backwards toward the elevator.

“Yeah yeah, it’ll only take like fifteen minutes. Don’t worry,” He replies and starts walking backwards to the bathroom himself. “I’m sure our leader won’t mind if I’m a little late.”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “I’ll try and make something up for you if Kyungsoo asks me where you are.”

He smiles and gives you a thumbs up and turn to the bathroom. You turn and walk to the elevator only to stop after you hear him yelling behind you.“Thanks, Mom!”

You look back at him with a playful glare. “Don’t make regret giving that to you, young man.”

_________________________________________

Scrubbing the kitchen floor, Chanyeol berates himself on how awful this morning went.

"I can’t believe I broke the waffle iron AND forgot to pack her sandwich in the lunch bag. All I wanted to do was make her something to eat. I should have been more careful.” He says outloud to himself

Sighing, he gets up and drops the towel on the kitchen countertop.

“Some cook I am.” He murmurs dispirited.

He glances at the picture of the two of you on the wall and sadly smiles to himself. It’s a picture of your faces together and he’s giving you a kiss on the cheek while you’re bashfully looking the other way. He loves how attentive you are whenever he discuss ideas for songs or when you would give him something to munch on when he was too immersed in his songwriting. He loved how comfortable he was when he was with you and how you could cheer him up whenever he felt down. The two of you had your own little world and nothing would matter.

He noticed the little things about you like when you would sometimes hum while you were walking or when you were contemplating something, your eyebrows would furrow and you would bite your lip in frustration. It was a cute expression you had, but he was seeing it a lot more lately and it was usually when you were with him. He wasn’t sure of what was wrong and you never really said anything about it, but it was beginning to make him worry that something was up.

“~Hello angel, look at the sky. In my eyes you’re perfect like a painting~”

Chanyeol jumps at the sound of his ringtone playing and picks up the phone. Seeing the ID name “Angel” flashing on it, he realizes it’s you.

Why is Y/N is calling? She usually doesn’t call when she’s working. Did something happen? Chanyeol wonders and answers the call.

“Hey, honey. What’s up?”

Hearing silence coming from your end, he asks again.

“Babe?”

He starts to hear some shuffling in the background and some muffled voices coming through. Thinking you’ve butt-dialed him, he’s about to end the call until he hears something that makes him freeze in his spot.

“But Mom! I don’t wanna go.”

What?

“Come on sweetie, lunchtime is over. If you work hard enough in class, I’ll let you have nappy time early today.”

His eyes widen realizing that’s your voice

“Really? You mean that, mommy?”

“Mhm.”

What’s happening? he thinks to himself. Why is he calling her his “mommy”?!

“Ok, mommy! I’ll be good and clean up my mess.”

Am I dreaming? Is he really calling her “mom”?

“I love you, mom!”

Desperately trying to hear more of the conversation, Chanyeol’s tight grip on the phone causes his index finger to slip and it accidentally pushes the ‘end call’ button.

“No,” Chanyeol shouts out. “No! No! No!”

He looks at the screen frantically trying to figure out a way to eavesdrop back into the conversation. After a few minutes of searching through Google for any solutions, he gives up and puts the phone on the kitchen countertop. Scratching his hair, he starts to pace around in the kitchen while biting his thumb.

This is impossible! There’s no way she could hide something like this from me! I’ve never seen a child here! Although, it does get pretty messy in the house every now and then. But, that doesn’t mean that there’s a baby living in this house right? He immediately stops pacing and looks at your room. There’s only one way to find out.

Chanyeol isn’t the type to snoop around his girlfriend’s apartment, but he believes he doesn’t have a choice this time and quickly makes his way to your room.

If I was Y/N, where would I put my kid’s stuff? He starts off by looking under your bed only to find a black pen and a yellow cap and then quickly moves on to the dresser only to find stacks of clothing in each drawer. Would she put them in the closet? He wonders and opens the closet door.

Upon entering the room, he turns on the lights and briskly checks the shelves thinking there might be some hidden compartment behind one of the objects like the ones he’s seen in movies. Realizing there was nothing there, he goes to the wall next to the shelves of shoes and feels something bump against his foot, looking down he spots a box underneath some hangers of clothes. Pushing the hangers of clothes away from his field of vision, he bends down and quickly lifts the cover of the box and freezes.

Oh my God. It IS true! She has a kid! How? How is this possible?! He thinks to himself while carefully taking out the contents of the box. He places each item on the floor beside the box and looks at them in wonder. A couple pairs of toddler underwear, a bottle of baby powder, three sets of toddler pajamas, and a baby blanket leave Chanyeol speechless.

What do I do? Why would she hide this from me?! How do I talk to her about this? I need to tell someone about this or I’m gonna lose my mind!, Chanyeol quickly gets up and sprints to the kitchen and picks up his phone.

Calling Baekhyun, Chanyeol taps his fingers on the kitchen countertop. “Come on, Baekhyun! Pick up already!” Chanyeol murmurs impatiently. After three missed calls, Chanyeol decides to call Kyungsoo instead. “Come on, come on, come on. Pick up!” after hearing it reach voicemail, he decides to text Kyungsoo instead.

Chanyeol: KYUNGSOO

PICK UP

Satansoo: What

Chanyeol: PICK UP

ITS AN EMERGENCY

Satansoo: How bad is it?

Chanyeol: BAD

FREAKING

OUT

PICK UP YOUR PHONE

Satansoo: Fine

Chanyeol calls him again and bites his lip until he hears Kyungsoo pick up.

“What is it?” Kyungsoo ask monotonously

“Dude, I’m freaking out! I-I’m so confused, I don’t know how she could hide something like this from me!”

“You mean Y/N?”

“Yeah!” Chanyeol shouts exasperated.

“What happen?”

“Kyungsoo, I think-,” He pauses and swallows trying to stay calm. “I think she has a kid.”

#vdc19 #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol x reader #chanyeol scenarios #chanyeol scenario #chanyeol #exo scenarios #exo scenario #exo imagine #exo imagines #exo #exo headcanons #this became a lot longer than what i planned for #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic rec #exo fanfic

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bcdrawsandwrites · 6 years ago

Photo

Next entry for @badthingshappenbingo!

Reminder that I am still accepting prompts for this! Check out my initial post for the guidelines. Also note the current bingo card on this post–the things I mark with crossbones are completed prompts, and ones with a single bone are ones that have been requested, but not written yet.

(Fics are also posted to AO3 and FFN, but please just use the links in my blog desc to get to those ‘cuz I’m too tired to make links for them.)

Aaand here’s our next prompt, submitted by an anon over on AO3. I didn’t want to take anon requests for this one, but I made an exception for this particular request.

WARNING!! THIS CHAPTER IS BRUTAL. Like, way way way way WAY more brutal than any of the others. It’s also technically a “bonus chapter” for my longfic, Neither Can You. It takes place directly after chapter 3, so you may want to skim that to get an idea of what’s going on here.

That said... here we go. Sorry in advance.

Prompt: Cold-Blooded Torture Characters: Héctor, Ernesto

The room was dark, and that was the least alarming thing about it. The meager light from outside shone through a dusty window and the open door, and that was enough to make Ernesto's shimmering white bones stand starkly out from the darkness. While his focus was trained on the man, Héctor was vaguely aware of the other crates and boxes that littered the room—some long-forgotten apartment that had been haphazardly converted into a storage unit, then forgotten again…

I have to get out of here.

That was the only coherent thought running through Héctor’s head—the only thought that was managing to push its way past the intense agony in his right hand. Said right hand, he knew, was currently in various pieces in a metal box sitting somewhere in the dark room. Somewhere behind Ernesto’s two bodyguards that were looming over him—they hadn’t moved yet, and he wasn’t sure when they would. He was too scared to find out.

Need to get out of here, maybe with the hand, maybe not, need to get out.

He did, he knew he did, but he wasn’t sure he could manage it. Part of him felt like if he tried to move, he would only make the pain worse, and he was so tired, he could just lose consciousness to get away from the pain—

Don’t fall asleep, don’t, it’s not safe, not safe, wake up, get up.

Biting his lip, Héctor pulled up his legs, digging his heels into the floor and pushing himself back. He pulled his arms back to press his palms into the floorboards so he could push himself upright—

His missing bones responded to the subconscious command, clattering against the metal box they were held in, and Héctor shrieked, falling hard against the floor.

“Don’t hurt yourself, hermanito,” growled a voice from the other side of the room, and Héctor clenched his jaw in anger. “After all, we’re not done here.”

“What?” Suddenly feeling much more awake, he looked back at the two men standing over him. In the dim light from the window on the other side of the room, he could see metal objects glinting in their hands. He still couldn’t tell what they were, and he wasn’t really keen on finding out.

“Ernesto, th-this is crazy,” he stammered, focusing on moving his left arm while keeping his right arm still. He managed to push himself upright this time, and fought to get back on his feet, only to fall at the sudden pain in his left leg—he must’ve injured it again in the struggle earlier.

“If you want to stop now, Héctor,” Ernesto began, and Héctor could barely make out the shine of his unnaturally white bones gleaming somewhere behind the bodyguards, “I can still call for your daughter to take your place instead.”

Héctor’s chest filled with ice. “Y-you can’t,” he choked. “You already called off—”

“I can get her back.”

“You’re bluffing!” he snarled, even as he felt his bones begin to tremble.

“Am I?” Ernesto tapped his phalanges against the metal box and exchanged glances with one of the guards, who pulled a radio out of his coat. “I suppose if you’re willing to make that gamble—”

“No, no!” His every instinct was screaming at him to run anyway, to take the risk that Ernesto might not be bluffing, but something far greater than that was telling him to stay, that he couldn’t risk her, he couldn’t risk something happening to the one person he’d been fighting for years and years and years just to have a chance of seeing her again. Whatever was going to happen would just have to happen; if her safety was at risk, then there was no alternative.

“So are you willing to stay with us for a little longer, old friend?”

Héctor’s eyes flicked to the guards, then back to Ernesto. “I-if I do,” he said, fighting against the heavy weight of dread in his chest, “will you leave her alone?”

“Of course.” Ernesto smiled. “So long as you’re cooperative, there’s no need to get her involved.”

Héctor tried to study his former friend’s face in the dark, and was struck with a new horror—he had no idea if Ernesto was telling the truth. For all he knew, he could have his guards attack him, and then still go after… Shuddering, he looked away, trying to think it through. If Ernesto was lying, what could he do? If he could get away, maybe he could try to make it to Coco before whatever sick person Ernesto had hired got to her, but he had no idea where Coco’s scheduled shoe delivery had been. He knew that she was going by herself, and he’d never thought to ask for the address. If luck was on his side, maybe the address was close by, but he had no way of knowing.

The Land of the Dead was vast, and for all he knew, Coco could be on the opposite side of it.

Terrified tears sprang to his eyes as he faced Ernesto again. “Promise me you won’t hurt her.”

“If you stay, then, yes, I promise no harm will come to her.”

Please, please don’t be lying, he thought, and shut his eyes. “S-sí. I’ll stay.”

“I thought so.”

Everything went quiet, other than the quiet shifting of the guards where they stood, the occasional creak of the old building, and the trembling of Héctor’s bones. After a short eternity, one quiet noise sounded above the others:

Knuckles rapping against wood.

The floorboards creaked as one of the two bodyguards stepped forward, and Héctor finally opened his eyes. Before he could respond, one of them moved to his side, grasping his shoulders, shoving him down into the floor, and holding him there. Automatically Héctor tried to push the man away, but again his broken hand tried to respond to the action, and he cried out in pain.

Part of him expected some smart remark from Ernesto, but when he looked back at where the man had been standing, he instead found Ernesto farther away, his back to him. But before he could think on that any further, he saw the other bodyguard slip into the side room, and quickly return with an electric lantern, which he set atop a nearby crate and switched on.

Héctor blinked and squinted in the sudden brightness, his breathing picking up as his vision took a moment to adjust. Dust floated in the flickering, humming light, and the frame of the man cast a looming shadow over Héctor. Of course those stupid guards with their stupid sunglasses hadn’t been bothered by the light.

The man who had retrieved the lantern knelt next to him, and Héctor felt the guard’s hand against his middle, pinning his spine the the floor. To his confusion, the guard proceeded to tug at either side of Héctor’s vest, exposing more of his rib cage. He then brandished the object he’d been holding earlier:

A hammer.

A flurry of panic overcame him as his chest began to heave in short, sharp breaths. “No, no, no no no—!”

In one swift movement the hammer came down, connecting with two of Héctor’s ribs. In spite of the pain, he couldn’t yell—the blow had winded him, leaving him to give out only a choked, hollow gasp. Again he tried to push away, managing to keep his bad arm still while his good arm flailed, striking at the man as much as he was able and trying feebly to grab the hammer away. In response, the man that was behind him shifted his grip from his shoulders to his upper arms, making it impossible for him to reach out. Even so he pounded his fist on the floorboards, kicking his feet and digging his heels into the hardwood.

His rib cage heaved, and he felt the pain of two bruised ribs on the right side of his chest. It could be worse, he tried to think, knowing full well it didn’t matter. But he had broken his ribs before—the one was still broken, the other missing—and he knew what they felt like. He’d gone through broken ribs before—he could handle bruised ribs. He could. He had to. He would heal, it wasn’t really that painful compared to—

Clang.

The hammer struck at a higher rib on his left side, and he felt the crack—it wasn’t all the way through, it wasn’t broken, it was just cracked, it hurt but it was just cracked, it would heal, it would heal, dios, why was this happening…

Against his will, his mind supplied an answer in the flash of a vivid mental image: Coco held down by a man as another approached her with a hammer—

With sudden sob, Héctor shook his head against the image. Please, please, no, you can’t do that to her, I stayed, I’m still here…!

Clang.

He gave a choked cry as the hammer slammed into the other side of his ribs—he didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want this, he knew he had to be here but he wanted out, he wanted to be back home, he should’ve been home ages ago, why did he have to leave so late, he didn’t want to be here with Ernesto and these horrible men and that hammer, and… and…

That wasn’t what hammers were for. They weren’t supposed to be used like this—they used them to fix houses in Shantytown. He could remember using one himself as he helped Carla repair her roof for the third time, joking about how her shanty was very insistent about always having a hole in its roof. They used them to repair the boardwalks, like the one that broke as he was walking across it—

Clang—crrk!

It hurt it hurt it hurt, his chest was heaving but it hurt to breathe, he could feel the cracks and bruises that the hammer had made—that wasn’t what they were for, he would watch Imelda and the others at the workshop using them to make shoes, he saw Imelda making his shoes though he didn’t know they were for him at the time, and then later she surprised him with the shoes as a gift, because she said if he lived there, he had to wear shoes—

Clang.

Where—where were they? Imelda? Coco? What time was it? Did they know he was gone? Did they miss him? Imelda would surely notice that he was late coming home. She would get angry at him, but would she come after him? But he didn’t want her here, he didn’t want her in danger for his sake, this was his fault in the first place… If she went after anyone, maybe she would go after Coco to make sure she was all right? Please, Imelda, make sure she’s okay, go after her—I’ll get out of this, but make sure she’s okay—

Clang—crack.

Héctor screamed, struggling to grab at his ribs, only to yelp again as his phalanges brushed against a jagged, broken bone. They’d broken a rib—one of his upper ribs, and it was agony to breathe. He tried to make himself stop—he was already dead so he didn’t need to breathe, he didn’t have to. He could just keep his rib cage still and it wouldn’t hurt so much. Holding his metaphorical breath, he screwed up his face, trying to force himself to stay still, stay still, stay still, it’s going to hurt more if you move—

Clang—CRUNCH.

White-hot pain lanced through his rib cage, blinding him to everything but the sensation of another one of his uppermost ribs cracking through—a jagged crack that was agony every time the two ends rubbed against each other every time he breathed—he wanted to stop but his breaths came in heavy, shaking sobs—

Clang!

“STOP!” he screamed through the pain in his chest, bucking against the restraints of both of the guards and actually managing to throw one of them off. The guard’s hand left his middle, while the other pressed down on his arms to keep him pinned to the ground. “¡BASTA! LET ME GO!”

“All right, enough, enough!”

To Héctor’s shock, the man who had been using the hammer stood up, looking at something on the other side of the room. Following his gaze, he found Ernesto was facing them again and looking… hunched over, one hand gripping a crate next to him—stressed? Upset? It didn’t matter—that torturer had stopped his assault, finally, so maybe this nightmare was over. Part of him almost wanted to say something, but talking would hurt. Instead he looked Ernesto in the eye, trying to discern what was to happen next—was this over? Come to think of it, he didn’t even know what Ernesto’s purpose in doing this was—something about… about his music?

Ernesto stared back, too far away for Héctor to be able to read his expression, and didn’t answer.

In spite of the pain, Héctor felt a flurry of panic return at the thought of something more horrifying to him than the thought of more broken ribs or fingers or hands—the thought of someone else in the same fate as him. “C-Coco,” he stammered, fighting to talk through the pain, trying to sit up, but the other tormentor held him firm. “Coco, sh-she’s still safe, isn’t she?”

Ernesto remained silent, and Héctor’s panic grew.

“‘Nesto?” he cried, eyes widening when he saw his former best friend turn away again. “Ernesto, is Coco—”

Ernesto looked away, and rapped his knuckles against the crate beside him.

The man behind him let go of his arms, and Héctor wasted no time in attempting to scramble to his feet. But the men wouldn’t allow it—the one who had assaulted him with the hammer shoved him back to the ground, one hand on Héctor’s shoulder and another on his sternum, and Héctor yelped. “NO!” he cried out again, kicking out with this legs and trying to push the man off of him. “L-let me go, basta! Let go—”

The pressure on his sternum increased, and he drew in a sharp intake of air that froze inside his chest. “Quit squirming,” the man growled, “unless you want another rib broken.”

Forcing himself to remain still, he glared at the man who held him down, only for his attention to be drawn to the other man at the sound of something metal clinking lightly against his hands. It wasn’t as large or heavy as the hammer, but whatever it was couldn’t mean anything good. Héctor felt a fresh wave of panic surge through his broken rib cage, not even knowing what they were planning this time. “N-no, no, not again, not—”

The man that was holding him down kept one hand on his shoulder, then grabbed underneath his jaw, jerking it back and knocking his skull against the floor. The impact dazed him, but the man didn’t remove his hand, keeping Héctor’s head wrenched back.

From this angle he could barely see the other man, which did nothing to soothe his frayed nerves. The man kneeled down next to him, holding out a long, thin metal object that glinted in the dim light of the abandoned building. Only a second later did Héctor realize what the object was, and he drew in a sharp, terrified gasp just as the blade scraped against his throat.

His cry was immediately choked and strained, his entire body squirming against the sensation. He tried to push the guard away again, but couldn’t. “S-stop…” he rasped, and immediately regretted it, his voice tearing into the cut in his bone.

Either they didn’t hear him or didn’t care, because again the blade came down, this time, striking up vertically across three vertebrae. Héctor gagged, eyes bulging as his kicking and squirming grew more erratic, but none of this helped—he only felt another hand at his other shoulder, pinning him down further, the guard leaning in closer. The only thing his brain was registering anymore was the need to get away from these men, all better judgment failing him as he tried to protest: “St… st…”

The knife sliced the sides of his neck three times in succession, back and forth, resulting in a rattling, rasping cry. The panic continued to build in his chest, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he was going to suffocate—he couldn’t move his broken rib cage, and though he’d long since left behind his lungs that needed air and his heart that pumped blood, he swore he felt blood filling his throat, pooling down into his lungs, he was drowning, choking—

Slowly the blade began to dig into the middle of his throat, digging into the bones, and he gagged, trying to will himself to breathe. He was going to choke to death. Why was this happening, why was this…

“St—kkkkkhhhh—st—”

“Hm?” came a voice that was closer than before. Had Héctor been able to focus more, he might have noticed that the voice wasn’t quite as calm as its owner would have liked. “Speak up, Héctor.”

He tried, he tried, his voice fighting around the blade in his throat. “D-de—ggghhkkk—ja…” Deja de...

“You want them to stop?”

“S—gghhhh…!”

“That… could be arranged. I believe we can still reach your daughter if—”

“NO!”

The knife jabbed deeper into his vertebrae at the sudden shout, and he gagged again and again, certain he was going to die again, somehow. He was going to suffocate, but it can’t happen to her. You have to let them do this to you. It can’t happen to Coco, it can’t…

“Stop, stop, move it away,” Ernesto demanded as he hurried closer, a frantic edge to his tone.

There was a brief pulling sensation at his throat, and distantly he realized the knife was stuck. With a sudden yank it was out, leaving Héctor gagging and rasping, his chest heaving in short, uneven gasps and trying to reach up to claw at his ruined vertebrae, but his arm was still being held down.

Ernesto was standing over him, his expression unreadable, his eyes not quite focused on him. “Say something.”

Somewhere beyond all the pain, Héctor still felt a twinge of anger in his gut. Was he joking? What kind of sick joke was that? But the anger was short-lived, the exhaustion in his bones and the agony in his throat and chest and hand quickly overwhelming it.

Something nudged into the side of his chest, jarring his broken ribs and making him breathe in a sharp hiss of air that stung at his throat. “Say something,” Ernesto repeated, his voice a low growl.

Héctor was not usually one for strong language, but a few choice words tried to force their way out of his ruined throat. Instead, all that came out were pained gags and wracking coughs that shredded through his broken bones.

For only a brief moment Ernesto regarded him before stepping back, looking away. “Let him go,” he said, tugging on his coat and walking up to one of the old crates nearby. “We’re done here.”

And the hands that had held him down were gone, weights lifted from his shoulders and spine. Automatically and in spite of the pain it caused, Héctor turned to his side and curled up on himself, yanking his vest back over his exposed ribs, tucking his right wrist under his vest, and pressing his forehead to his knees, trying to hide as many of his injuries as he could. While Ernesto was talking with his torturers in hushed tones, Héctor found himself caught in the struggle of wanting desperately to breathe, but at the same time, not wanting to breathe at all in order to avoid any more pain. He had to get out of there, he knew, but right now he could barely will himself to move, let alone crawl out of this awful building, and—

Suddenly remembering just why he had been forced to stay in the first place, he frantically looked up, eyes wide. “C—” he choked, only for his voice to degenerate into ragged coughing. “C—Co—”

A pair of hands hooked under his arms and hoisted him up, and he screamed voicelessly, cringing at the sharp pain in his throat. No, no, no, he said they were done! Frantically he struggled against the men’s grips, kicking with his legs and trying to pull away. He felt something clap onto his head, and belatedly realized one of them had shoved his hat back on—it must have come off at some point during the struggle.

“Take him out,” Ernesto commanded, and the men began to drag Héctor out of the dusty room.

Héctor fought to kick out his legs again, but his strength left him, leaving his heels to drag on the floor. Still he tried to reach out, staring at Ernesto desperately. “C—c…” Coco, is she okay, please tell me you kept your word, please…!

“Wait.”

The men stopped, and he felt a sickening mixture of terror and hope flickering in his chest. Please, please tell me, tell me she—

“Héctor,” Ernesto began, picking up a metal box and taking a few stiff strides closer to him. “Are you listening to me?”

I don’t have much of a choice, do I? Héctor thought bitterly from where he hung between the two guards. He lifted his head slightly and glared as much as he was able, not sure if his expression could clearly be seen in the dark and not really sure if he cared anymore. The bitterness left him as quickly as it came, with worry taking its place. Please tell me, Ernesto, please…

Whether Ernesto could read his expression or not, he looked him over for a few moments. At one point his eyes fell on Héctor’s rib cage and he quickly looked away, giving a barely-suppressed shudder. “I didn’t want to do this,” he muttered lowly, and Héctor stiffened. “You gave me little choice.”

Rage bubbled up within his broken rib cage, briefly giving him the strength to tug against the men, but they yanked him back, and it was gone.

“There’s no need for that,” Ernesto went on, taking a half-step back. “We’re done here. But… if you like, you’re free to talk about this, of course.”

You made me so I can’t, Héctor fumed, but the anger was only draining him now, rather than giving him any kind of energy. Please, just tell me my Coco is—

Ernesto causally rattled the box he held, and Héctor gave a voiceless cry as a dozen jumbled sensations of pain shot through his hand. Waiting for Héctor’s frantic, short breaths to slow, Ernesto rubbed a hand against his own throat before continuing: “I want nothing more to do with you. But your family… they still hold a great interest to me.”

Héctor froze, a tremor running through his bones. No, no…!

“If you decide that the media or police should know about this…” Ernesto glanced to the side, seeming to consider something for a moment before smirking back at Héctor. “…perhaps I’ll have to see about getting a new pair of shoes for the interview, hm?”

No, no, no, you can’t…!

“I have faith in you, hermanito,” he said, turning away. “I’m sure you’ll only say what you think is right.” With one last glance over his shoulder, he snapped his fingers, and the men began to move once more.

Wait, wait, no! Héctor tried to fight against them, but his exhausted limbs refused to cooperate. Ernesto! Tell me she’s okay! ¡Por favor!

But Ernesto said nothing more, and the two men dragged him out into the trash-filled alley where this entire mess had started. Unceremoniously they dropped him to the ground, and he fell on his right side, catching himself on his bad arm. As a mute cry attempted to force its way out of his throat, the men swiftly stepped back into the building, tossing something else out beside him before slamming the door shut.

Héctor found himself alone among the trash, and feeling much like it himself.

For a long while he lay there on the ground, not feeling in any state to move or even think. From where he lay just outside the doorway, as his eyes adjusted to the dark he could barely see the junk that had been piled up, and he found himself staring blankly at it. It didn’t feel real, he realized—everything that had happened to him. Everything felt hazy and strange, like a nightmare, like none of it had really happened. Here he was, so close to where he’d tripped and fallen—could he have simply knocked himself out on something and awoken here again?

After considering it for a moment, he tried to push himself upright, only for the end of his right arm to scrape against the dirty cobblestone. The pain caused him to cry out, the sound barely coming out as a squeak that immediately degenerated into a choking and coughing fit. He tried to stop himself and just breathe, but the attempt only left his rib cage in agony.

It was all real—he had the injuries to prove it. But if it was real, that meant…

Coco…! he thought desperately, and struggled to push himself up on his good arm. His frame shook with the effort, but still he tried to get back upon to his feet. His leg ached, though the pain seemed trivial compared to every other part of him that hurt. But even as he pushed himself upright, he found that was about all he had the strength to do, as he had to lean back against the wall of the building.

But Coco… he still didn’t know if she was all right—unsure if Ernesto really had kept his word or if he would come home to find her in the same awful state as him, if he found her at all… or if he ever went home at all. How was he supposed to get home in the first place? How could he?

His thoughts immediately went to Imelda, surely furious at him for coming home so late, for making them worry. And now here he was, actually giving them a reason to worry. Then she’d ask what had happened and he… what could he even tell her?

“If you decide that the media or police should know about this, perhaps I’ll have to see about getting a new pair of shoes for the interview, hm?”

Coco…

He didn’t know where she was, or where the shoe delivery had been to. How was he supposed to find out if she was all right? He couldn’t walk, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t even tell her he was sorry—

It wasn’t until he felt the pain from his chest heaving in quick, uneven gasps that he realized he was crying. It hurt his ribs, it hurt his throat, but he couldn’t stop, finding himself sliding down the wall and back to the ground, curling up on himself once again. I’m sorry I got you into this, I’m sorry I let this happen, I’m sorry… he thought, wishing he could say the words to his daughter, but he couldn’t even speak. Ernesto… His mouth twisted. If you did anything to her, I’ll…!

Wait—but that was it, wasn’t it? Ernesto had asked him to stay quiet, or he would go after his family. If he already went after Héctor’s family, what would stop Héctor from immediately going to the police?

Ernesto surely wouldn’t be so stupid… which meant that Coco should still be all right. Dios, he hoped so. He wasn’t sure what else he had left to hope in.

Part of him wondered if his family would come looking for him—Imelda might or might not, but she’d be angry either way. Coco might come looking, if she was all right, but he didn’t want that—he didn’t want her anywhere near this terrible place. He didn’t want Imelda here either, come to think of it—for them to see him in this state…

Perhaps he could get back to Shantytown? No one would ask too many questions there, and he could hide there until he got better, until he was ready to face his family again. He still remembered when he’d limped and crawled his way there after breaking his leg, and Cheech and the others had taken care of him until he could walk again, but… all of them, even Cheech, were long gone now. But maybe if he could…

Slowly drawing in as deep of a breath as he could, he tried to rise to his feet, leaning against the wall behind him, but his legs wouldn’t cooperate. Not knowing what else to do, he rested his head on his knees again, shutting his eyes and hoping again that he would wake up from this nightmare.

Héctor wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he felt something nearby—the prickling feeling on the back of his neck, like he was being watched. Shuddering, he lifted his head and looked down the alley, out toward the street—

A pair of enormous yellow eyes gazed back at him, as something monstrous drew in a deep breath through its nose. Through his exhausted haze, he could make out the glow of yellow and green markings—

The alebrije let out an explosive snarl, frantically reaching her enormous paws out to Héctor, not coming nearly close enough, and raking her claws against the side of the building in frustration. With a choked cry he tried to get away, his terror granting him the strength to scramble closer to the door he’d been thrown out of. The alebrije stood there, growling, before darting off and out of sight.

Héctor couldn’t breathe. That… that had been Imelda’s alebrije, Pepita. She’d sounded furious, and… if she was here, then Imelda couldn’t be far behind, and was likely just as angry.

Part of him was relieved that help was coming, but still he felt his heart gripped with fear. What could he tell her?

For a long while he sat there, trying to breathe in shallow breaths as he thought it through, but no solution came to mind. He felt trapped—he couldn’t get away or hide, he couldn’t tell her anything even if he needed to, and… and…

Then he heard it—the faint sound of voices nearby, though too far away and too quiet for him to identify. People were coming—whether it was Imelda, or Ernesto’s men coming back for more, he wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t stay here.

Biting his lip and summoning what little strength he had, Héctor pushed himself back up on his feet, leaning heavily against the wall, and then carefully eased along it until he was standing right against the door frame. He pressed himself as close to the wall as possible, hoping the shadows would hide him. He wasn’t sure what good hiding would do at this point, but his only other option was letting someone see him like this, and—

An earsplitting yowl echoed down the alley, and he gave a silent yelp, tucking his bad arm under his vest and keeping his other arm wrapped defensively around his chest.

“Héctor? ¿Estás ahí?”

Imelda. So she had come back to find him. Part of him wanted to wilt, but he kept himself firmly pressed against the wall, and kept quiet. As he listened to her footsteps gradually grow closer, he shut his eyes, afraid of potentially meeting her gaze.

The sound of her boots against the cobblestone grew louder for a moment, then softer; she’d passed by him.

“Pepita! Are you sure this is the right place?”

The alebrije gave another terrible yowl in response, her claws digging into one of the buildings. Thankfully she couldn’t fit into the alleyway, or she would’ve pounced on him by now. On top of that, Imelda was still overlooking him—he could hear her rifling through the garbage. Maybe she would leave. Is that what he wanted?

Yet Pepita was still yowling, scratching more frantically. Go away, alebrije, Héctor thought, shuddering. Please…

He thought he heard Imelda say something else, but he wasn’t sure what—Pepita was making too much noise for him to tell. Was she coming closer? Pressing himself further against the wall, he risked opening his eyes and—

Imelda was only a few feet from where he stood, and she immediately brandished her shoe. With another silent yelp, he tugged his hat over his face, cringing. No, no, no…

It was a short eternity before she spoke. “Hector? What in the world are you doing?!”

Of course she was furious. She had every right to be, and even if he could speak, there wasn’t anything he could think to say, except… “S… s…” The sound refused to properly come out of his wrecked throat, his chest heaving with the effort.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you! What did you think you were doing, worrying us all to final death?!” she went on, and he felt his stomach twist in guilt. “What were you doing, hiding from us all this time? Are you listening to me?”

“S… s…” Sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to worry anyone, I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please tell me Coco is all right…

Distantly he could hear Pepita continuing to yowl, but the alebrije’s voice paled in comparison to the anger in Imelda’s.

Said anger, however, faded as Imelda spoke up again, her voice uncharacteristically quiet: “…Héctor?”

He felt her hand against his, and flinched, but there was nothing else he could do other than let her guide his hand upward, lifting his hat away from his face.

And Héctor gave the most apologetic smile he could muster, trying one last time to force the words out of his throat:

“S… sorr…”

#hector rivera #ernesto de la cruz #imelda rivera #coco #pixar coco #coco spoilers #pepita #my writing #fanfic #neither can you #no seriously I am ... really sorry for this one #NEXT ONE WILL BE LIGHTHEARTED I PROMISE

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emmaruthrundlesh · 6 years ago

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Emma Ruth Rundle Interview // Rock’n’Roll Journalist

(via Rock’n’Roll Journalist) “Dark” singer-songwriter is a term which deserves an official registration based on the modern wave of talented female artists. Next to Chelsea Wolfe, there is also Emma Ruth Rundle rapidly building her space on the market. Her captivating voice and an amazing taste for cold melodies are more than addictive. If you look at her list of favorite albums, the magic of her sound suddenly makes more sense. In addition we also spoke about her gear, challenges on a tour and beauties of Prague, which is also on her current European tour schedule on 18th of October.

Would like to give some introduction to your list?

This is not so much a list of my favorite albums of all time. Much of these are rather pieces I return to over and over as they are especially significant for me.

40 Watt Sun – The Inside Room (2011)

One of my all time favorite albums, English 3 piece, 40 Watt Sun, combine a slower, heavy guitar driven washes over which Patrick Walker literally pours his heart out. HIs lyrics and voice are incredibly eloquent and beautiful. The songs are, at times, in the 8 plus minute category so there is plenty of time to be reeled into their world and taken through Walker’s emotional landscapes. One of my biggest influences in the last few years.

Kate Bush – The Sensual World (1989)

A longstanding favorite and go to listen for me. Kate Bush has a few phases and different sounding albums but there is always her at the core. I think The Sensual World has become the diamond album in her discography, for me, because of the song Love and the Anger. It’s one of the catchiest and uplifting songs I’ve ever heard. Just watch the video and see Kate dancing at the end…How can you not fall in love? Also some really tasteful world influence and killer guitar by David Gilmour on Rocket’s Tale. Love it all the way through.

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Smashing Pumpkins – Siamese Dream (1993)

It’s very frustrating to wake up and look at the internet these days only to be greeted by any number of people and music blogs STILL making fun of Billy Corgan – not going to lie, it bums me out and makes me feel sad for a world of critics who can’t take it the simple fact that Billy has recorded THE BEST guitar tone of all time and he did so on Siamese Dream. The songwriting is brilliant and this is really an album that takes you to a place, especially by the time you reach Silverfuck. Sure, I jump over the hits – I don’t need to hear Today every time I want to enjoy this masterpiece but if you’re somehow not familiar take the whole trip and revel in what I think is some of the most important guitar playing of the 90’s.

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James Blake – Self Titled (2011)

A groundbreaking beauty of an album. James Blake managed to write and produce this minimal pop R and B (with strong classical influences) that won him the Mercury Prize. There is nothing but pure perfection and genius on this record. Even the cover art is elegant and humble in a way. I guess there is some sense of humility in Blake’s writing that takes me in even further and I become invested in all his repetitive and disintegrated lines, waiting for them to break or modulate in any number of ways as they do on this album.

Cloakroom – Time Well (2018)

I came to know Cloakroom just by association. They had done a lot of touring with label mates Russian Circles as well as some other folks I know. I sort of disregarded this band for a time – not sure why – but when Time Well came out on Relapse earlier this year, I was completely head over heals in love with these Midwestern boys. The guitar playing and textures as well as the cleverly timed riffs (for lack of a better word, this band isn’t metal at all but heavy in a deferent way) and the bonus of Doyle’s of introspective vocal has won them a very special place in my heart and headphones.

Brian Eno – Thursday Afternoon (1985)

In his 11th studio album, Eno has fully mastered the very new world he himself pioneered and invented: Ambient music. Thursday Afternoon is just one long daydream of a song with nothing but the babbling of the synthesized (or whatever he’s employed on this) brook. Nothing “happens” on this album. There is no break or moment of great change or rhythm even… it’s just the most relaxing music on Earth which is why I find my way back to it so often. Pure peace streamed right from the source of new sound.

I’m not an ethnomusicologist

Tori Amos – Boys for Pele (1996)

Tori Amos peaked, for me, on this 18 track album. It was her first time self producing as well and there is something so fierce and desperate in her lyrics and voice. While generally regarded as a singer songwriter, which I think conjures up a picture of a subdued character sitting in a coffee shop somewhere, Tori is really more of a badass and this album rocks it ways though piano and harpsichord driven tunes. I love everything about how the record was recorded and sounds as well. Even the music videos that came from this album are great. If you don’t know, you should.

Earth – Hex; Or Printing the Infernal Method (2005)

I am not sure when I first became aware of the legendary instrumental band Earth but I am sure it was later on in life than for some other more tuned in people. Hex is an album that I listened to a lot while on tour and desperately in need of refuge from the chaos of being trapped with so many other people traveling across the globe. Hex is like a soundtrack and works incredibly well for someone who’s trapped staring out a window, avoiding conversations for most of the day. If there was ever a time to describe something as dusty sounding, this is it. Having really loved the Neil Young soundtrack to Dead Man – Hex felt like a sister album to me or in that world. It has a special ability to take you into a barren landscape and push out all your youngness which is so needed!

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The Body – No One Deserves Happiness (2016)

This record came into my life at a time of physiologically shattering life change and a very hot summer in LA. Most would describe The Body and an “experimental” or harsh noise (at times) project. No One Deserves Happiness introduces female forward singing over the backdrop of the bands soul reaping sounds. Chip’s hollow screams have manifested a truly horrific creature in my mind. There is a blend of classical reverence and choral singing within The Body’s noise land and it turns on a part of my brain while listening. I feel comforted by this album somehow.

Stars Of The Lid – And Their Refinement Of The Decline (2007)

Another instrumental masterpiece – SOTL also have classical inclinations or leanings or is this contemporary classical music? I’m not an ethnomusicologist. Washes of treated instruments grip your xanaxed out sandbag body and drag you slowly and mournfully in waves under a pink ocean of wonder and obliteration of the self. I have fallen asleep in my most anxiety ridden times to this album as it swallows you like no other can.

In the heart of Europe

In late October you will be coming to Prague to very intimate club called 007. Did you ever have a chance to properly walk around Prague?

I never played a solo show in Prague, but I performed here with my previous bands already. Every time I made sure, me and my band mates have enough time to check the city. It was amazing every time and I just can’t wait to come again. I visited Prague the last time in 2010 and our tour manager was Tomáš Zakopal, who was local, so he prepared a beautiful commented tour for us.

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Could you please present to us your collection of guitars? From the most recent live footages I see you are a big fan of Fender guitars and especially a model called Coronado II.

This piece actually belongs to Evan Patterson, who plays guitar in my band as well in my support band Jaye Jayle. Guitar #1 in my collection is a classic mahogany piece from Cordoba. There is also one from Chinese brand Blueridge, inspired by OM model OM from Martin…(I’m sorry, I am little bit sick)… Within electric guitars my most favorite is standard Gibson SG. It was quite cheap second hand acquisition in one music store. Another piece is Fender Baritone Jaguar special HH. Then there is Fender Stratocaster. I can’t remember the exact model, but it’s quite unique as it has two humbuckers. Next to that I also have one white model from Guild. Longer I play I realize it is very important for me to have two humbuckers within electric guitars. And finally there is one really crappy SG, which I would really like to get rid of, as it is badly made. (Laugh)

Some preferences within microphones?

I use BLUE enCORE 200 the most. Probably as it was a gift. I like its sound, as it can work very well with mids and highs. Another reason is very practical. I realized I get sick more often if I use in-house microphones. If I use my own microphone, I have bigger chances to stay well.

Life on a tour

I am sorry, you don’t feel well. Do you think it’s also because of air conditioners during this years’ crazy summer season?

Not sure to be honest. I was just getting back from a European tour and I must have caught something on a plain.

Longer I play I realize it is very important for me to have two humbuckers within electric guitars

How are you trying to stay in a good shape on a tour? There is a European tour coming up during fall and that’s quite challenging season for immunity.

One can just do maximum and hope. If I can, I try to stay warm and eat plenty of hot meals. I try to rest, as much as I can and get plenty of sleep. But it’s not always that easy, where there is so much drinking and everything else which belongs to a tour life. It is practically a miracle if you survive a tour without any harm.

Is there some European location, which you really look forward to visit during upcoming European tour? It doesn’t necessarily have to be Prague…

It’s funny, as everybody in the team looks forward for the Prague the most. Evan is practically obsessed with Prague and I just can’t wait to meet friends, which I haven’t seen for years. I am also looking forward to see Porto, Lisbon and also Madrid, as I’ve never been to Spain. In general I love to visit well known places as well as completely new locations.

#Emma Ruth Rundle

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hairringtonsteve · 7 years ago

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Soo, I haven’t written in a relly long time, so I hope this is good. I was wondering about doing a smut-ish second part. Hope you guys like it :)

Sorry if there are gross grammar mistakes, english is not my first language

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Word Count: 1553

Summary: You and your boyfriend have your first discussion. You know he’s hiding something from you, but you don’t understand why

Content: some swearing and some fluff as well

a/n added from hairringtonsteve: alright! so, i’ve never done this before, but i thought it’d be cool! someone submitted it to me (i’m not sure who, a name wasn’t left on it and it just said that it was submitted by “Me”) and i’m really excited to share it with you! i really like it, and personally, i vote that you start up a blog for fic because i’d read the shit out of all of your stuff! :) the only thing that i’ve added to this is a read more, just so the post isn’t super long on the dash!

**************************************

“I still don’t understand how you and my brother became friends…” – you say, laughing, while cuddling with your boyfriend, Steve Harrington, on his bed.

“I’ve told you, baby. It’s a long story. Let’s say he needed some help with, uhm, something…”- he replied, thoughtfully.

You have been together for a couple of months now. Seeing Steve around your house now and then helped get you two to know each other well. Secretly, you always had a crush on him, but never tried a move because, well, how in the hell would king Steve notice you? At least that’s what you thought, until getting close to him.

From the beginning on, he was always kind and sweet to you. The only problem was, you thought he was a bit mysterious sometimes, as if he was hiding something from you, what you certainly disliked.

“That’s funny because…”- you looked at him- “Usually Dusty comes to me when he has a problem. He never hides anything from me.”

“Well (Y/N), at some point he would need a male help, am I right?”- he smiles, but you think it’s suspicious.

“Hmmm, I don’t know. I mean, I guess it’s just weird to see him growing up and talking about these ‘boy stuff’ with someone older. Especially you. I remember when we used to fight for our toys when we were little…”- you took that moment to give him a kiss. Boy, those lips! You loved to kiss and bite those lips of his. You just didn’t like it more than playing with his soft fluffy hair.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t worry about it. Besides, let the boy in peace. I think you’re a bit over-protective at times. Looks like you’re being nosy…” –he stared at the ceiling. That last sentence sounded like he was jealous. You always thought Steve liked to take care of your little brother more than you did.

But damn, he shouldn’t have said that. You get really angry when someone tells you how you should act. Especially when it comes to taking care of Dustin. You loved that ‘shithead’ – as Steve liked to say – a lot and you’d do everything to see him happy and safe.

You roll over your boyfriend’s messy bed, sitting up. You were mad. Nosy? He had no right of telling you that. Plus, you still felt like he was hiding something from you.

“I’m sorry, what? You’re telling me I’m being nosy? And, to be honest I keep thinking you’re hiding something from me! Whenever I talk to you about you guys you just… I don’t know… give me excuses.”

Now Steve was the one pissed. He hated to talk about that. However, he had a reason, and a very good one. It couldn’t run through your mind, though. All you could focus on were “his lies”.

“Oh c’mon. Cut that bullshit (Y/N)! You know I am not hiding anything from you!” – you looked very angry and Steve hated that. Now he was pissed too. – “Seriously, you’re such a pain in the ass when you insist on that!” – he said, harshly.

Oh dear. He never talked to you like that. You could feel tears in your eyes and the urge to go away. And that’s what you did. You stood up, grabbed your purse and left, slamming the door. Steve’s eyes were wide open, he had suddenly realized what he had done. He muttered something like Shit under his breath and ran after you.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)! I’m sorry, please, come back!”

It was too late. As he stood at his house’s door, you were already driving your car, leaving that place as fast as you could. His words were echoing on your mind. How could he say something like that? You never thought he could be that mean…

You parked in front of your house so furiously that the car made a screeching noise. Your mother went to buy stuff for the new cat, since Mews disappeared mysteriously, leaving Dustin by himself. He heard the noise and ran down the stairs to find you opening the door crying. He hated to see you like that. Actually, you both were very protective of each other, which was super cute.

“(Y/N)? What happened? Where’s Steve?”- he asked, while you walked in, as fast as you could to your room, your safe place.

“Please, don’t say that name!” – even though you were really angry, you still loved Steve and it really hurt to know that someone you love could make you feel that way.

“What? Did Steve do something mean to you? God, that motherfucker Harrington is SO dead!”- Dustin said closing his fist, as if he was going to punch Steve in the face or something.

“No, Dusty… I don’t know. Just leave me alone!”

You slammed your room’s door and in less than twenty minutes, you hear the doorbell ringing. You stand up and check the window, to see who it could be. There he was, Steve Harrington himself was standing in front of your door, with a beautiful rose bouquet on his left hand.

You ran back to your bed and decided you wouldn’t talk to Steve. How dare him call you names and show up five minutes later. At least, that’s what you told yourself. Deep down, you loved the fact that he was after you, wanting to clarify things and make up. Then, all good memories were running through your mind. The first kiss, the first time you held hands… That one time when you were caught making out inside his car… Your first time having sex… He was incredible and it would be awful to lose that man.

Suddenly you notice it’s taking quite a long time for Steve to reach to your room. You walk to the door and hesitate to open it. You think for a bit and when you get the guts to open it, you find Dustin, who was about to knock – he’s a very polite boy.

“Uhm, (Y/N). Can we talk for a minute? Steve’s down there and…”

“I know, tell him to go away, I don’t want to talk to him!” – you interrupt Dustin.

“I understand, I understand. So, listen. Let me talk to you then.” – he made a small pause to look right in your eyes – “He was just protecting you.”

You laugh, ironically.

“Protect from what? What the hell are you talking about, Dustin?”

Dustin takes your hand, leading you to sit on your bed. Then, he looks out to your room. He took a deep breath and turned back at you. You couldn’t help but let a little grin show. The kid knew how to be dramatic sometimes.

“So, do you remember, right when Steve and I started to hang out?”- he asked, smiling at those last words. He always felt so proud and loved to show off his friendship with Steve.

“Yes. Why? What’s the matter?”

Dustin took a deep breath and told you. Everything. Told about Will, D&D, all about Eleven, that weird girl who recently showed up at his class out of nowhere. Also, how they fought the Demogorgon, the demo-dogs and the mind flayer. He emphasized, however, on Steve’s help. How he handled the situation with Dart (and that it ate Mews), how he risked himself in order to protect your brother and his friends. He even told about that one time where Billy punched the hell out of Steven, but that he stood there for the kids.

You were shocked at all this new information. You couldn’t reply directly, you needed a moment to think. Especially when Dustin told about Hawkins Lab and how they could be watching you all and arrest you, if needed. It seemed like the most creative child’s scary story ever, but you had to believe him. You knew Dustin. You knew he wouldn’t mess up and lie to you like this. Your first reaction, however, was to shout at him.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WERE FIGHTING MONSTERS OUT THERE? ARE YOU INSANE? IF SOMETHING HAPPENED TO YOU, I SWEAR I’D KILL YOU DUSTIN HENDERSON!”

You were cut by a laughing Steve, who was standing at your room’s door. You didn’t notice him coming up, you were just too astonished by your little brother’s story. He came closer to your bed, and sat next to you, on the other side.

“See? I was lying, indeed. I’m sorry. But it was for a good reason.” – Steve’s soft voice were music to your ears at that moment. He places the flowers next to you.

“Oh, Steve, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted that way” – you hug him, feeling one or two tears on the corner of your eyes.

“It’s okay, baby. I shouldn’t have said those mean things either.”

Steve then brings your face closer and kisses you. You kiss him back, passionately. You could simply not resist him.

“Eeeeew! Can’t you guys wait until I’m gone? Gross!” – Dustin said while standing up and leaving the room as quickly as possible. He couldn’t handle seeing you kiss a man.

Dustin shut the door while you and Steve were laughing hard.

“No more lying from now on. I promise. You?”- said Steve, holding you close to him

“Promise”

You close your eyes and find his lips on yours again.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #stranger things 2 #steve harrington #reader insert #reader fic #fanfic #stranger things fic #dustin henderson #submission

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savedbyharrington · 7 years ago

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A/N: Yuup, I’m the one who submitted this to @hairringtonsteve and since it got so many likes and reblogs, I decided to make a blog dedicated to Stranger Things writings! I hope you guys like it :)

Soo, I haven’t written in a relly long time, so I hope this is good. I was wondering if I should do a smut-ish second part. If yes, please let me know! Hope you guys like it :)