#and they made a post about pride month yesterday and oh my GOD the replies.

[sonknuxadow]

if i was the person running the sonic twitter account i would tweet that sonic is canonically a trans guy and then turn off my phone

[write-ur-wrongs]

Nature’s Nurturing Ways

Hi y’all! This pandemic has really taken the wind out of my sails these past few weeks (maybe months? Time is completely untraceable right now). This piece is born out of a lovely anon’s request, bolded below. As always, I haven’t proofread this mess, so please forgive the typos! I’ll do my best to correct them post-publishing. I seriously can’t thank you enough for taking the time to send me your ideas, and I promise I’ll get better at writing actual drabbles LOL. I hope you enjoy :) 

Hii can you write something abt Geralt being w a plant-based reader where she loves animals and nature? Tysm

_____________________________________________________________

Geralt and Jaskier had been travelling for hours when the beating sun finally wore them down. There hadn’t been a breeze in days and the hot, stale air was starting to suffocate the uncharacteristically quiet bard, who wouldn’t dare compete with the surrounding cicada’s symphony.

“Geralt,” he rasped, “do you hear any running water? Drips or gurgles? I’ll take anything.”

“Jask, it hasn’t rained in days and it’s hotter than the depths of hell,” the Witcher sighed before continuing, “I said no yesterday, the answer is the same today.”

“Euughh!” Jaskier threw his head back in despair before hanging his head in exhaustion. “Geralt, I don’t want to be dramatic -,”

“Ha!” Geralt twisted in his saddle to look back at his friend with a quirked brow.

“- but I will fall off this horse and die of exposure if we don’t find water soon.”

Shaking his head, Geralt knew that despite the bard’s tendency to embellish, the situation was getting dire. They’d traveled this way dozens of times before and had always relied on the steady creek that ran alongside the trail for water. The region wasn’t known for dry spells and while Geralt was sure he could manage either way, his companion on the trail was not so durable.

They wouldn’t arrive at their destination for another three or four hours, at his level of dehydration and with probable heat exhaustion, Jaskier might not have that much time.

With another gruff sigh, Geralt pulled back on Roach’s reins and redirected her off the road and into the forest, turning back to ensure Jaskier’s horse would follow.

Geralt knew that there was a small clearing off the road where the thick leaves from the old trees made a lush, and shaded, canopy. He’d been there before a handful of times. It’s where he shared a tender first kiss, where he’d laid his head on Y/N’s chest before falling asleep feeling the cool, lush, grass cradling his large frame. It’s where he first said I love you.

Shaking his head slightly to pull himself from his memories, he dismounted and grabbed both sets of reins, leading the horses into farther the clearing. Once they’d reached the middle of the small field, Geralt released Roach’s lead and gave her a neck a scratch before leaving her to graze.

“Come on Jaskier,” he said, reaching into the gelding’s saddle bag for some food, “get off your horse and lay down in the grass.”

The bard fell out of his saddle with a thud while Geralt continue to root around the bag, huffing as he kept coming up empty.

“Did you eat the last of the cheese?”

“Mmpft,” Jaskier replied incoherently, face down in the grass.

“Hey –”

“Oi! You kicked me!”

“Where is the food? We had bread, cheese, and meat left over last night. Did you fucking eat it all?”

“No, you oaf,” he said, rolling over onto his back, “we ate the rest of it this morning.”

“Fuck!” Geralt cursed under his breath, pulling his hair up off his neck to cool off. He could barely remember what they’d done earlier that day. The heat had been unbearable all evening, and the rising sun only made it worse.  

“Don’t worry about it Geralt! No need to apologize for accusing me so harshly.” Jaskier said, words dripping in sarcasm.

Geralt merely looked down at the bard with disdain and rolled his eyes, refusing to admit the sun might be affecting him too.

“Shut up and take off your shirt –”

“Oh-ho!” he laughed weakly, wiggling his eye brows at the witcher. No matter how beaten and battered the bard may be, he’d never miss an opportunity to tease Geralt.

“No, Gods! Fuck,” Geralt went on, flustered, “the grass will cool you down a hell of a lot faster if you’re in direct contact. And besides, Y/N will kill me if I let you die of exposure.”

“Always so serious, eh Geralt?” Jaskier chided playfully, pulling off his tunic before laying back down onto the grass, “Oh-ho-ho-ohhhh yes… Sweet merciful goddess of all that is good, this feels amazing! Yes, yes, yes!”

While he was sure the bard was still mumbling gratefully, and disgustingly, at the feeling of the cool grass against his skin, Geralt’s mind was elsewhere. Somewhere in this clearing, wild heliotropes had bloomed and the sweet, almondine scent was pulling him into a memory.

“Geralt! Witchers use herbs, mushrooms, and flowers in all kinds of magic,” you said, your hands resting high on your hips, “I find it incredibly hard to believe that in all your years and extensive travels, you’d never learned to forage?”

“All my years, eh?” he’d replied, cat-like eyes gleaming back at you.

“Well of course,” you teased, “I mean, unless you mean to tell me that silver head of hair is a choice born out of vanity?”

“I’m going to make you pay for that later, Y/N.” He laughed, taken aback and a little impressed that you felt so comfortable with his mutations as to mock him playfully.

“Ha! Me and what coin?” you reply with a light laugh, bending over to collect the generous mushrooms growing through the bed of leaves and needles.

Geralt turned his head towards you to hit you with a winning comeback, but found himself lost for words when his eyes failed to meet yours.

You get up slowly, peering over your shoulder to find your witcher’s eyes on your backside. Smirking to yourself and quirking a brow flirtatiously, you toss a handful of dirt and wet leaves his way, hitting the poor soul right in the chest.

“Distracted, Geralt?” you said, tossing your hair over your shoulder as you straightened up.

Geralt swallowed thickly, desperately trying to string together at least a couple words – witty at best, coherent at least – when he heard a twig snap in the surrounding forest.

Quick as a flash, he drew his sword and his attention towards the source of the disturbance, a large boar. Chest already swelling with pride at the thought of providing you with a hearty meal, Geralt prepared his attack on the creature before him.

Seeing that the “threat” in question was nothing but a passing porcine, you dove before him with a shout, dropping the mushrooms on the way. Your scream coupled with your sudden movement startled the beast, and it dove deeper into the brush to escape.

“Geralt, no!”

“Damn it, Y/N,” he swore, “I could’ve had it! We could have had a decent meal! We – we would have been set for days!”

“No, Geralt! We have food, right here in this clearing. We needn’t take lives from the forest to eat.”

“Gods, Y/N,” he sighed, dropping his sword to the ground in frustration, “do I need to remind you of the cycle of life? Creatures live, they die, and they get eaten so others can live –”

“Yes, and by leaving that gentle giant to its ruminations, we’ve allowed it to go on, to feed its young, or hell! By leaving that boar to live, we might have secured a lifeline for a fellow wolf or fox. Geralt look around you; mushrooms, flowers, these thick leaves, those berries? You see that tree there? At its roots there are nuts, and over there? Those flowers? Means there is garlic. The forest will feed us with ease if we simply care to drop our weapons, and look.”

Geralt looked at you and with soft eyes, he took in the way your eyes burned with passion, the way your chest rose and fell with every energized breath. He looked around you and really looked at the plants around him, beyond scanning for any toxic or dangerous herbs, he did his best to see the forest through your bright eyes.

Looking at you he felt his chest swell once more, but this time the feeling was warm, grounding.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said quietly, pulling you into his arms, “so, so much.”

You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You knew he loved you. You had known for months, but you’d made peace with the fact that he loved you however he could, and that that would have to be enough, even if it meant you wouldn’t hear him say it.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet dove,” you murmured, reaching up to lay a soft kiss on his forehead, “I love you too.”

Geralt was wrenched from his thoughts by a swift kick to his shin, courtesy of the bard.

“Shhht!! Geralt!” Jaskier shout-whispered, still kicking at the witcher’s shins. “A deer! A d- dinner! Food! Geralt!”

Side-stepping out of the bard’s frantic little kicks, Geralt looked around him in a quick movement, spotting the deer with his hand primed above his sword’s hilt.

The world seemed to go quiet and still when his eyes met the doe’s. Despite himself, he could hear your voice in his head telling him that she’s a young, vibrant member of this forest’s population. That at her age, she’s likely a first-time mom or about to be. That she has more life to live and more to give to the land than be a poor man’s meal.

Jaskier watched in hungry-horror as Geralt waved his large hand at the creature, turning his back to it before looking down to meet his shell-shocked gaze.

“What the fuck, Geralt!” he spat, “what happened to “Y/N would kill me if I let Jaskier die”? What the fuck! That was food! Survival!”

“You’ll be fine Jask, shut up and lay in your grass.”

“As long as you don’t make me eat it.” He grumbled, not quietly enough.

A laugh rumbled through him as he walked towards to forest line, spotting thick dandelion leaves, mushrooms, and bushes ripe with nuts. He might not necessarily need to feed Jaskier the grass beneath his feet, but he was going to make him eat his words.

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

“There you are my intrepid explorers!” You damn near squealed at the sight of them, dropping your basket of recently-purchased produce as you ran towards them.

At the sight of you, Geralt dismounts and runs to meet you in a tight embrace. You hold each other tightly, breathing in each other’s scent; his cedar, damp earth, and cut grass, and yours sweet almond.

You pull back just enough to look him over quickly and, spotting no fresh injury or new scars, pull your brows together curiously.

“Did you get lost?”

“Not at all,” replied Jaskier, clapping Geralt on the shoulder, “You’d be impressed, madam Y/N! Our dear witcher made quite the feast. Pulled me right out of the greedy jaws of death, he did!”

“Oh?” You said, brows furrowed in a silent question. Knowing what you meant, Geralt shook his head and kissed your temple to reassure you.

“Picture me this, Y/N,” Jaskier mused as he untacked his gelding, “I’m wilting away, inches from Death’s grip, and Geralt sweeps me under a lush canopy of trees and lays me in the grass…”

“Lays him in the grass? Should I be jealous?” you whispered.

“Never my love,” he replied softly, his forehead against yours.

“… then our honorable friend bid the deer a fond farewell, letting him get away! Yes, Y/N, there I lay, starving, thinking the sun must have cooked the sense right out of him when he marches out of sight only to emerge moments later with a bounty!”

“A bounty?” you mock-gasp, egging the bard on to Geralt’s great displeasure.

“Yes! We ate like kings in that forest, Y/N. All we did was eat but I felt hydrated and renewed! Truly a culinary delight.”

“A delight, Geralt!” you giggled, giving his waist a squeeze.

“Gods, won’t he ever shut up?” he grumbled, ghost of a blush creeping up his collar.

“Oh hush, my love,” you cooed, “without Jask’s bragging, I’d have never known what a big softy you’ve become.”

Wordlessly, Geralt looked down at you in mock-contempt, unsure that this wasn’t a veiled insult. He was instantly reassured though, when his eyes met yours.

“You left the deer.”

“I did.”

“And you foraged, found just what you needed.” You spoke softly, admiration and love rounding your features out beautifully.

“That’s right.”

“Now where did you pick up skills like that, my dove?” You chanced another tease, twirling a lock of his white, dust-packed hair around a finger before giving it a light tug, your head cocked to the side.

“Oh, I had an exceptional teacher…” he said, wrapping an arm tightly around your waist and bringing his other hand up to cup your face, pulling into a deep kiss.

[sugarsatoru]

Espresso Shots

Pairing: Mammon x GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Ratings: General

Warnings: Grammar errors, cursing

Note: This is the first fanfic that I have written in years. Inspired by the song 'Hello Tutorial' by Zion T & Seulgi.

This is also cross-posted in AO3 .

_____________________________________________________________

Mammon instantly perked up behind the counter and flashed a toothy grin when he saw you enter the cafe. He’ll do it tonight, he told himself. He’ll be the one to take his favorite customer’s order tonight. It's not like he waited the whole day for you to come nor did he practice too many times in front of the mirror on how he’ll wave and greet or the not so cheesy and lowkey pick up lines that he’ll use. Really, he did not prepare for this at all.

“Oh? Interesting.” Satan, the blonde headed barista, said with a smirk while arranging the pastries in the display beside Mammon. “Don’t wave like a weirdo and make sure to not embarrass yourself. Remember that even Lucifer has the hots for them.”

“Hi Satan,” You casually greeted him as you walked to the counter. He gave you a nod before disappearing into the kitchen.

Mammon’s hand instantly pretended to fix his hair. His gorgeous smile was instantly replaced with a pretentious snarl when you gave him a small smile.

Shit, why can’t he pull his act together?

Sometimes, Mammon is convinced that you are beyond human, an angel or a deity or something. You are simply ethereal in his eyes. The little things you do are too adorable for him to handle. Like when you squint your eyes when you read the menu, that puzzled look on your face whenever you’re choosing between two pastries, and especially tonight, when you’re just an arm's length away from you, your features are clearly visible from his very eyes.

“Hi Mammon, I’ll get a large iced macchiato with extra six shots of espresso and put some energy packets in there, whatever is available.”

Mammon furrowed his brows at you, “Are ya sure?” he asked “I can’t give ya that, s’not healthy at all… not like I care but..b-but...”

You crossed your arms and smiled sweetly at him, “I know you don’t, I’m just in the pit of despair.”

“It’s 10pm!”

“More reason why I need that coffee!” You don’t. You really don’t especially when you have a one month old coffee machine in your home.

Mammon leaned towards you, one hand on the counter table “You’ll be up till noon tomorrow, be dead tired when the caffeine wears out and I won’t be able to see you tomorrow if that happens!”

“What?” You whispered as your gaze met Mammon’s. His face went red and instantly looked down. “Jesus…”

You feel like you’re going to combust. You’ve been dying to flirt with Mammon ever since you laid your eyes on him. You’ve been wanting him to flash you that toothy smile that he always has when he greets other customers. You’ve been internally cursing girls who flirts with him every chance that they get. With you, it was also a forced interaction followed by a deafening silence. God, or whatever deity, or even demon, must have heard your cries and wishes.

Everyday, you enter the cafe bringing with you the hope that Mammon will take your order, Mammon will use some cheesy pick up lines for you. It has always been mammon.

You stared at Mammon for a while, he was the only real guy who managed to check everything off your dream guy list-- Gorgeous, charming, and sexy. Well, maybe you can only cross off the physical section of your type since you haven’t really interacted with Mammon despite being a regular at the cafe for months now. You were even convinced that you’re not his type.

It was Satan, Mammon’s younger brother, who introduced you to the cafe. When both of you were paired for a project, you would always go there after school. You’re not the biggest fan of expensive coffees since you just bought a coffee machine back in your apartment to save some money, but then coffee is the best especially when it's free.

Satan, along with his three older brothers, and a man named Diavlo runs the cafe. It was a simple minimalist cafe and it was often jam packed. It might be the coffee but it was more because of the brothers, and the boss man Diavlo himself are the reason why college and high school students keep on swarming in the cafe.

The brothers are the most gorgeous guys that you have ever seen, Satan and Levi are equally gorgeous along with Lucifer, but it was different for you when it comes to Mammon. Expensive coffees are not your type actually, but no one said about it being served by a gorgeous barista.

Mammon internally cursed. Just right when Satan told him to not embarrass himself, he managed to do the opposite. Looking up a little bit, he peeked at your reaction. Mouth agape, eyes staring at his previous form. Ethereal, he thinks. You’re just so ethereally breathtaking that he managed to make a fool out of himself and now he’s a hundred percent sure that he’ll never see you again because you won’t go back.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he pulled all of his remaining guts to serve you. “I’ll get you that co-.”

“Keep me company then.” You reached out to tug Mammon's sleeve “I don’t really need expensive coffee, I have a coffee machine in my apartment. I only go here because of you.”

The white haired barista could not believe what he heard. He was sure that you’ll find him creepy especially when he’s giving you nothing but cold replies when you greet him, or when he purposely avoids you and pretends to be busy whenever you enter the cafe. It was Lucifer that he was so sure of to sweep you off your feet but then you rejected him right off the bat because you told him that you already set your eyes on someone. God knows that everytime when you’re around, he wishes that he could pull you close and bury his face in your hair.

Mammon couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that it was him. You rejected Lucifer because you like him. For months you’ve been going to the cafe because of him and for months he has been wallowing everytime you step out of the cafe because he just likes you too much and he thinks that you won’t even spare him a minute of your time.

Mammon pressed his lips on to the side of your head and whispered “Take a seat for a minute would ya?”

“Only if you’ll take me home”

---

“Satan, where is Mammon!?” Lucifer growled. It’s a busy day in the cafe and the teenagers who won’t stop pestering him despite the long line made the situation worse.

“Uhmm… Somewhere you want to be I guess?” Satan smirked and pointed at the window. “You missed a lot yesterday.”

Lucifer crossed his arms and sighed. “So that’s why he didn’t go home.”

“They grossly look like teenagers with their first boyfriends!” Levi snickered.

Lucifer smiled at the sight of his brother and you exchanging goodbyes looking like teenagers in love. The looks that you unknowingly gave each other does not go unnoticed by him, but that doesn’t mean that he’ll back off and eat his pride. So when Mammon entered the cafe with the goofiest smile on his face. Lucifer can’t help it but be happy for his dear brother.

“Very well Mammon, it was about time.” Lucifer said as he smacked the head of his younger brother, “But hide that damn hickey, this is a cafe not a club.”

[theyarebothgunshot]

this is exactly how it went down in my head.

misha: hey, everything okay? do you need me to do something?

jensen: no, lay low. we’re figuring it out.

misha: got it.

— the next day —

misha: things settled. should i say anything? draw attention? stay neutral?

jensen: you don’t have to, but if you want, tread lightly. we’ve had enough chaos.

misha: say no more.

when nobody got your back you KNOW dmitri got your back.

ANYWAYS i turned my back for TWO MINUTES and y'all went the fuck off in my inbox so, you know the drill: more under the cut

NO BUT JENSEN’S RESPONSE LMAAAAAO honestly fallout theory is so on oh my God I can’t stop-

on god they are so loud like-

Worst damage control i've ever seen. god bles.

so true bestie

I think Jensen probably just wants to be done with this petty little drama, so if he has to pretend everything between them is okay he is going to be the bigger man and lay it to rest. Whatever is going on between them he definitely doesn't want to sort that out on social media and the earlier he pretends everything is sorted out the earlier people will forget about it again.

Also it's kinda funny how J*red Tweet was like implying they had a misunderstanding but still talk to each other regularly, while Jensen went full on the we grow apart a little bit, because we were busy, let's catch back up. Makes me wonder if they actually talked or if there managers just said hey that's not good pr, let's put that to rest. Also did J*red know before yesterday that they had a falling out or did he just not realize.

- 🐌 anon

literally jensen went out of his way to say 'uhhh we never talk, worstie' god if pr management is involved then they did a bad job. also j*red still does not realise they have fallen out. jshfjdsfh

Jackles was like God bless but we ain’t talking like this worstie

good for her.gif

csdsc heeft gevraagd:

All I need now is for Misha to tweet “ is it safe to come out now?” And I’ll be complete lmfao 😂😂😂

that would have been better than what we got lmfao

I have one fear and it's Jensen being forced to add j*red to his show and his other projects because he couldn't stop whining like a baby,,, ugh i hate him

i pretend i do not see

Kinda selfish of me tbh but i don't want them to be "friends" again, Jensen sweetie run as fast as you can

co-signed

Ok Jensen's answer to Jared tweet made me feel so bad for him. Like, I can see it's damage control and public relations (obviously) but there's stuff behind it. I can't name it, but idk, I felt terrible for texas man this time, I don't think that reply was written with a "love and light energy" or even without much care. I felt some heavy vibes.

- 🌻, who is now a fortune teller and a prophet apparently

yeah i feel hella bad for him to, for having to deal with this shit. nonnie please if you ever have anything to predict, lemme know sjdfhs

You know Jensen's tweet has the energy of like kindergarten wenn an other kid started a fight with you and the kindergarten teacher wants you to forgive each other and hung it out and you really don't want to, but your kindergarten teacher is being annoying and he isn't worth the annoyance either.

- 🐌 anon

you are not wrong

Incredibly thankful that I have the day off from work 😂 I'm with hatching chick anon, the 3 dots read as passive aggressive/insincere to me, and I love it! I haven't spent this many hours on tumblr since I first discovered cockles! (On a side note, the lack of fimmf posts today has me feeling like it's not friday lol) -🐢

i, too, miss fimmf but alas things happen, they do they do they do

I was right. :(

It got almost romantic...

👀

nonnie you know i love you but this is really not the case, like, at all??? idk how you could look at those tweets and think it was almost romantic. it was THEE most scripted, pr bullshit ever. it was staged and fake. idk what else to tell ya

Danneel liked Jensen's tweet

i saw

That is so so awkward I feel so sorry for all of us being exposed to this and so happy I chose to leave the Internet for half a day - tea anon

god bless your stance on that cause i would have hated missing out on this lmao

You know what? I think it’s okay being a 38 year old moron if you’re bringing us this type of content

im happy with the food but still think its not okay tbh

pspspsps Misha this is the perfect day for you to drop the gay Cas essay pspspspsp it is still pride month pspspsps

you know you want to king pspsps

So that JIB6 link (I think it was from your post, right?). I went and watched that bit, and a little more.

Jensen makes a comment about Jared being first on the call sheet because Sam was supposed to be the main focal character.

And that him nor Misha cared about what number they were, so in all that time it never changed.

And I’ll be… if that just doesn’t perfectly sum them up and their feelings on things. And how a certain someone can be petty… 🦚

idk if it was from my post? but maybe? my analysis probably? but yeah things are making more and more sense huh

Ohh that's also an alien? Welcome to the extraterrestial family then, purple alien anon!

Also it's probably because I'm coming off the high this drama gave me but I'm not looking forward to them trying so hard to convince us everything is normal between them. Even though we now Know, they will have to keep pretending. Today (yesterday?) was a shitshow but some masks fell off, at least for a moment and I kinda wish Jensen was less professional 😂

👽

oh for real, fallout theory IS confirmed and nothing they said today will change my mind, it only made me believe in it even more lmfao and with that in mind i am just gonna sip my tea if they try to be buddy buddy on main again

I THINK MISHA UNRETWEETED BUT HE TWEETED "LOVE AND MISS YOU BOTH" I'M LOSING MY DIGNITY HERE - tea anon

yeah he now answered them sjdfhsjfhsf instead of rt

MISHA COLLINS IS A KING I STAN THE RIGHT MAN

YOU SURE DO

I just know Misha’s process was oh crap I have to let people know I’m supporting them and I can’t choose sides. Ok. Retweet. NO. Delete. I love both of you. Yes, good.

sjdfsdfh this makes me think of that post that dissected jackles' birthday post for misha where he used the heart. 'call him bro, that makes it less obvious. nailed it.'

Lol I'm off for a few days and come back to total chaos... God I missed it here

Like the "et tu... #bravo" tweet? Made my day! Frikking hilarious (every time I see it I picture J*red with a pissy frech accent saying it out loud lol) it's just such an incredibly petty hissy fit he threw (I know he tweeted more later on but... Really all that stuff coming afterwards just sounds like damage control)

Missed you Rose

-🐻

LOVE the french accent detail im gonna do this too sdjfhsjfh missed you toooo!!!!

Oh man Misha is really gonna get hate for that I KNOW IT

sigh well. nothing he isnt used to by now, unfortunately

i mean i believe they feel like brothers, but constantly falling back on the “brother” thing to keep up appearances is really starting to feel like “#spnfamily” at this point.

honestly brothers can be very annoying, or so i have heard, so it fits with the fallout theory lmao

They actually said if we’re gonna make this gay we cannot have Jar*d Pad*lecki involved

oh my God this is the funniest timeline to ever exist God bless I’m just waiting to canon bi Mary

king shit tbh

[kyun-toast]

[MONSTA X] Changkyun - Happy Without Me

word count: 3.8k warnings: alcohol, suggestions of smoking, swearing, suggestions of sex summary: I don't think about you sometimes 'Cause I think about you all the time a/n: I’ve been listening to the All About Luv album a lot recently and Happy Without Me hit a little different the other day. I hope you don’t notice how I slacked off near the end 💜

“Yerim what are you wearing for tonight? I wanna look cute but not like ‘I’ve put effort in’ kinda cute, you know? Like I’m always this cute.”

Yerim laughed as she replied, “You’d look hot wearing a bin bag so shut up and let me know what drinks you want. It’s ‘bring your own booze’ so I was gonna run to the store for extra before we go.”

“Umm, vodka? Tequila? Maybe rum? I’m getting smashed tonight and you’re all going to carry me home, just letting you know.” Soobin winked and blew kisses at the both of you with a coy smile on her face, as some form of ‘thank you in advance’ for the troubles that you would be going through later that night. As much pain she put the both of you through, it was hard not to love her.

“Yeah, you say that as if that’s not what happens every week, you psycho.”

You smiled from the comfort of your sofa as you witnessed the two of your best friends bicker. You were never really one for parties, but you decided to let yourself go after an unfortunate night maybe five? six months ago. You thought that you could vent your frustrations into your notes app and be done with it, but your friends took pity and introduced you to another option. One where you could numb your mind with alcohol and crashing bass, and you figured that it was somewhat more enjoyable than cry-writing shitty poetry on a Friday night. Notes app therapy was now a thing of the past.

Changkyun had become such an integral part of your life that you couldn’t help yourself from unconsciously replaying memories that you had attempted to bury. A simple look at the most irrelevant objects would have him running through your mind before you could even stop yourself. Oh, we bought this mug together. You were surprised he hadn’t taken it with him when he left. It was his favourite mug to drink whiskey out of. Speaking of whiskey, you needed a drink. It had only taken days for him to make himself at home at the forefront of your thoughts but how long was it going to take to rid of him?

As much as you tried to keep those thoughts at bay, no amount of alcohol could ever stop them from crashing back over you whenever you saw that little smiley face appear at the top of your Instagram feed.

imnameim. When had he posted a story? You hadn’t seen the pink circle earlier. Would it be too early to look at it now? You couldn’t risk tapping on it only to see that it had been posted 12 seconds ago, just like you had done the other day. And the day before. And the day before that. Should you just make a burner account? No, that’s too far, we’re not going there today, bitch... Maybe tomorrow.

You hated how much power that tattoo face held over you, looking straight into your eyes - almost mockingly. Oh, did I look like a smiley face to you six months ago? Well, I’m a sad face now and that’s all you’re ever going to see.

“Y/N! Hey! You’re going to stare a hole into your phone.” Soobin clapped in your face, trying to get your attention. You looked up, softening your expression to meet Yerim’s eyes.

“Soobin was asking what you’re going to wear tonight.” Yerim said.

“I don’t know, probably that top I got yesterday?” you shrugged, unbothered by your friends’ question. You weren’t going to parties to impress anyone; you were going to drink the last of your braincells away.

“Y/N, ‘that top’ you got yesterday is a free t-shirt you got from the Domino’s pop-up stall on campus. I’m not letting you do this again.” Yerim dead panned.

“OK and...?” You met both of their concerned faces only to have them grab each of your arms.

“Come on. Up. That’s it.” You made unintelligible noises as they dragged you up off the sofa and into your closet. The thoughts about Changkyun’s story were left on the sofa as your mind was now filling with an excited buzz. “You act like you hate this, but I know you love getting trashed with us, Y/N.” Yerim laughed and you knew it too.

-

Changkyun lay in Jae-in’s bed, with her nestled in his chest as he looked up at the ceiling and sighed. Being careful not to wake her, he slowly squeezed his arm out from under her head to lay on his stomach to scroll through Instagram.

He had posted a story over an hour ago, half hoping that you’d see it – a cover of Dean’s Instagram. How ironic.

He shook his head at how pathetic his efforts seemed, whispering to himself, “What the hell are you doing?” He refreshed his feed for the last time to see that you had posted a video of the three of you dancing to a song in your walk-in closet. Probably drunk. Upon re-watching the video on loop for the third time, he concluded that you were most definitely drunk.

Seeing you having fun like this had him torn between being happy for you, moving on with your life and probably on to other men too. Being attractive plus the endless number of parties you went to now was just the perfect recipe. You were bound to have found someone.

And this is where the hatred washed over him. He despised it. Hated seeing you have fun without him, moving on as if he had never existed. Was it that easy for you to just forget? It seemed unfair that he was still struggling to keep you off his mind while you were out having the time of your life, letting your followers know of that fact too.

Deep down, he knew that he wasn’t happy for you at all. He was just trying to kid himself into thinking that he was. Be mature and everything. That was what both of you had agreed to be when your relationship came to an end. After days of what could probably be called a verbal equivalent of a nuclear war, the two of you had given up.

Crying, shouting, complete silence, you had done it all and there was no end in sight. On day three of radio silence, you felt as if you could do without speaking to Changkyun at all. When you brought it up, he admitted he felt the same. Exhaustion making both of you devoid of any emotion, you agreed to disagree and act like the fight had never happened. You were tired and wanted nothing more to do with it. Or each other. Thinking of yourselves as somewhat grown, you decided to be civil since you were in the same circle of friends, not wanting to burden them with any of your problems.

With so many things left unsaid and ties still loose, there was no way that you could just cut clean. But you never so much as bumped into each other since.

You hadn’t blocked each other though, as you both felt that it was some sign of weakness. Yeah, I’m tough enough to keep them on my socials. They don’t bother me. Not at all. But in the small hours of the morning, you were on each other’s profiles, hoping for a glimpse of what they were up to. Wondering if he had finished that song he was working on. If you were eating well. If he was really seeing Jae-in seriously. If you were well and truly happy.

“Hey, how are you doing?”

Y/N’s doing just fine for themselves, everyone can see that.

“Did you finish that essay?”

No, that’s too random.

“I think about you all the time.”

Shut up Changkyun.

Though you had both agreed to be ‘friends’, there was no easy way in going about messaging one another when you had fought so explosively. Changkyun also felt that he had missed the right timeframe for him to salvage whatever there was left of the relationship. Whether it be platonic or romantic. No matter how much he wanted to message you, his pride falsely masked as maturity stopped him from ever doing more than wish for you to call him and say that everything was going to be ok. That you can start over.

“Do you wanna go to Minhyuk’s house party?” Jae-in’s voice was heavy with sleep, squinting her eyes at the bright screen of her phone. Changkyun was startled from his thoughts, not realising that she had been woken up by a text.

“House party…?” Changkyun was dubious.

“It’s ok if you don’t want to, it’s just that we don’t ever do anything besides fuck, and I thought we could do with a change of scenery.”

“I mean yeah it’s just that we’ve never hung out with other people before. Like together.”

He had met Jae-in at a bar a few months ago. Holed up in his studio after the breakup, Changkyun got to channelling his anger into working on his music until his course mate Minhyuk persuaded him out for drinks. Minhyuk had flirted with the girls from the table over to get them to join in on the pity party. Jae-in had seated herself next to Changkyun and a few drinks later, they had quickly bonded over their childhood obsession with Death Note to which she followed up with an invitation to watch it at her place. Who was Kyun to reject? With all this pent-up energy to spare, music wasn’t quite cutting it.  

“I doubt anyone will care that we arrived together.” Jae-in shrugged. “Let’s go.”

-

“Yeah, I invited Jae-in and I think Changkyun might come with her too.” Minhyuk stated nonchalantly over the phone. You choked on your wine and thanked God that the music in your room was loud enough to cover the unnatural sound you had just made. “Y/N, is that ok? I should have asked you befo-”

“No, I don’t care.” You replied a little too quickly, “It’s been months and we broke up on good terms anyway, remember?”

“MINNIE! I MISS YOU!” Soobin drunkenly shouted across the room as Yerim held her back from throwing herself at the phone.

“I MISS YOUR FACE TOO, BINNIE! I’LL SEE YOU LATER!” Minhyuk chuckled as he didn’t hesitate to match her volume through the phone.

“Ugh, you two make me sick”, Yerim rolled her eyes, “You literally saw each other this morning. Just get together already.”

As Soobin and Minhyuk continued to chat, engulfed in their own little world, you reached to grab another drink. If Minhyuk’s predictions were right, you were going to need something stronger than wine to get you through the night.

-

Stepping into Minhyuk’s apartment, Changkyun could feel the bass rumble underneath his feet already.

“Hey! You made it! I thought you guys weren’t going to come, it’s so late! But we have drinks and snacks in the kitchen. Oh, and Jae-in, the bathrooms just through the hallway on the right…” Minhyuk’s voice trailed off into the loud music. Changkyun followed behind Jae-in as his friend gave the newcomer a guided tour of his place.

Though he was familiar with the apartment, it felt a little weird for him to walk through it with someone else by his side. A pack of cards strewn over the floor jogged his memory back to a particularly warm night in June. With the sun just beginning to rise, you both stood below Minhyuk’s balcony at 4am. You shouted,

“HEY MINHYUK, WE’RE GOING TO PLAY UNO AT YOUR PLACE, D’YOU WANNA JOIN?”

“THOUGHT WE’D ASK IN CASE YOU’D FEEL LEFT OUT.” Changkyun added. You both snickered as Minhyuk opened his window to shout back at you, regretting that he had ever given you two the spare keys to his apartment.

“ARE YOU REALLY INVITING ME TO PLAY CARDS MY OWN HOUSE RIGHT NOW?!” Birds fluttered away startled, as a neighbouring window flashed on a light in annoyance. Your shouting combined could never top the sheer volume of Minhyuk’s voice. Changkyun grabbed your hand as you ran into the building laughing before the neighbour could join in on the screaming match.

With classes finished for the year, you had what felt like an infinite amount of time on your hands. Kyun smiled to himself as he was reminded of those summer nights that he had spent with you. Stargazing, pillow talking, daydreaming on repeat.

“Yeah, so you can get to the outdoor space through the living room but I’m giving you special access to my little balcony through my room because you’re uh, Changkyun’s friend.” Minhyuk grinned as he ended his tour.

Upon entering the actual party in the lounge, Changkyun stopped in his tracks at the sight of you on the other side of the room. For a moment, the smoke in the room seemed to clear as his eyes trained on you throw your head back in laughter at Yerim’s animated storytelling. Hearing your voice so crystal clear made his heart swell with something that he couldn’t quite put into words. Half a year had passed since he had last seen you, sat broken on the floor of your apartment, explaining that it would be best to part ways. You had looked so drained of emotion then; it was such a stark contrast to what he was seeing now. He stood frozen, heart beating hard against his chest like a hammer.

“Kyun! Why are you so late?” Wonho, another friend of Kyun’s appeared out of nowhere with a bottle of tequila in his hand. “You gotta catch up on the drinks now, come on, open your mouth.” Wonho went to grab his face with one hand as he proceeded to try and pour some alcohol into his mouth jokingly. Changkyun chuckled as he play-fought with Wonho only to stop midway when he noticed Jae-in smiling at the sight.

“Oh, this is my friend Jae-in.” Kyun straightened up and brushed off his clothes.

Wonho went to shake her hand as Minhyuk snuck up behind him.

"Yeah, friend.” He giggled as he raised his brows suggestively and left as quickly as he appeared shouting, “Binnie! Where are you? We gotta go make those s’mores you wanted!”

Changkyun rolled his eyes and smiled as he guided Jae-in to the nearest table of drinks and set to introducing her to the rest of his friends, hoping that you wouldn’t notice him.

-

At this point, the three of you were beyond gone. Soobin had already passed out with a s’more in her hand as Minhyuk hauled her over his shoulder to put her to sleep in the guest room.

“And she.. she was telling me to sythensi.. she was telling me thynsenise, no, synsi.. she wanted me to synthesise, there we go, snythi…” Yerim tripped over words, dead set on getting her pronunciation right while Hyungwon sat and nodded with his signature painful smile on his face. She was determined, hand on his shoulder with a grip that let him know he wasn’t going anywhere until she had finished her story.

As for you? You were sat next to Yerim, a vacant smile on your face as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Day drinking followed up with a house party in the evening really wasn’t the best idea for the lightweights that you are but there you were, listening to your friend repeat the same sentence over and over again. An urgent voice in your head piped up, letting you know that you should probably go for a breath of fresh air.

“Yerim, hey, Yerim, I’m.. going for some air… stay with Hyungwon okay? Hyungwon, call me if anything happens?” You stood up, struggling to find your balance and teetered across the room to get to Minhyuk’s balcony.

The thing about you is that you are one of those blessed people that can sober up as quickly as they get smashed. You felt refreshed, taking in a deep breath as if to cleanse your alcohol ridden bloodstreams with the cool evening air. Your head still spun a little but as long as you kept your eyes anchored on the moon, you’d be fine in no time.

As much as your body needed a break from the party, it wasn’t the greatest timing for your mental state. Once you had assumed that Changkyun wasn’t coming to the party, you let go of the anxiety holding you back from enjoying yourself. You had been overstimulated from the alcohol, music, and people, not giving yourself a chance to think about anything else. But once those factors were gone, it was just you, alone with your drunken thoughts on a balcony looking up at the moon. And just like that, those suppressed memories regarding a certain boy couldn’t help but unpack themselves from your unconscious. Oh man, this was going to be such a good cry.

-

Changkyun was beginning to feel a little too tipsy for his liking. Though he was having a great time, it felt as if he wasn’t entirely present at the scene, like he was watching and laughing along through a TV screen. He slipped away from the kitchen island to get a breather.

“Oh shit, sorry, I didn’t realise anyone was here.” He apologised, going to close the door of Minhyuk’s balcony to a figure hunched over the railing. You looked up from your hands at him and tried to focus on the blurry face.

His movements faltered when your eyes met, door still open. Just one look at you was enough for that knock back into reality Changkyun had needed. God were you a sight for sore eyes. He drank up the way your cheeks and nose were flushed pink, how your eyes were glossy in the moonlight, eyelashes thick with tears, and the way the softly coloured city lights behind you framed your face. With the night air stained with your perfume and the sounds of muted traffic perfecting the scene, he had never felt so in the present until now. He wanted this moment to last a lifetime.

“Changkyun?” You replied, as you wiped your eyes clear of the tears blurring your vision. You could tell that voice apart anywhere, you only questioned in the slight chance that you were just hallucinating, going insane.

“Are you ok? I can leave if you want, I-” He began hurriedly, knowing that you hated having anyone see you cry.

“I’m fine.” You sniffed.

“Bad day?” He asked softly, bringing himself to stand next to you, looking over at the cityscape.

“Yeah, something like that.” You replied, letting out a small laugh as you wiped the last of the tears from your face. 

Tension hung so thick in the air you could feel it weigh down on your shoulders. Changkyun hated that you, the person he had once shared the deepest parts of his mind with, was someone he was now so uncomfortable with.

You both stood there awhile, looking out at the blinking lights of the cityscape. As quiet as it was, you could almost hear the sound of your brains whirring, going back and forth over whether or not you should say something to break the silence. Changkyun had spent months thinking of questions he wanted to ask you for when this moment came, but the alcohol and nerves fogged up his mind. All he could think of doing was holding you in his arms, hoping for you to be able to feel his apologies, sincerity and promises through the beating of his chest.

A heavy pressing in your lungs only intensified, as you thought about how the present situation had become the outcome of those few perfect years. You regulated your breathing, trying to break down the lump from coming up in your throat, on the verge of tears again. Thinking back, you realised that you probably could have been a little more understanding, could have softened your sharp words, could have opened your heart up some more to allow for Changkyun to do so in return. These thoughts and emotions bubbled up inside your chest to spill out of your mouth before you even knew what you wanted to say.

“Changkyun, I-”

“I found a really nice place for nights like this. Y/N.” he cut across with an anxious tremble in his voice. He could feel the apology ready to tumble from your lips, he had to stop you from apologising for things that you really didn’t need to. He hated that your heart was so big and so loving that you were willing to start trying to mend this relationship first. But he hated himself more for not having the courage to try to be even half as loving as you are.

He continued, still looking out over the balcony, worried that he’d start to tear up if he met your eyes again, “you can see the stars so clearly, it’s insane.”

You turned to him, tears welling in your eyes again. Despite having cut each other from your lives for what felt like a lifetime, it broke you how he could still read you like his favourite book.

“Can we go? Y/N? I’ve waited so long to show you.”

Hot tears fell down your cheeks again as Changkyun noticed and turned to you, pulling you into his chest as you cried out the mess of emotions you had amassed. 

The person you had wanted to talk about your breakup with Changkyun the most, was so ironically Changkyun. He’d know how to calm you down, how to sort out your problems with ice cream in bed like any other issue you were facing. But what were you supposed to do when you had cut the one who understood you the most so bluntly from your life? Who were you supposed to turn to when you wanted to talk about that?

Your cries pierced into his heart deeper with every second that passed, feeling the hurt in your voice in the deepest parts of his soul. He replied by holding you tighter, and you could feel all those things he left unsaid that day you left in the warmth of his chest.

“We don’t have to rush,” He whispered into your hair, “I have all the time in the world for you. Let it out.”

He brought a hand up from your shoulders hesitantly, feeling almost undeserving of comforting you after the pain he had caused you. But to you, his hand stroking your hair was where you found your solace.

So, there you stood, in each other’s arms having poured out your hearts to one another without having said a single word. But you both knew that you felt every single one.

[theloversthedreamersandme82]

Malice and 40?

'Exes meeting again after not speaking for years'

There's another chapter to come, maybe next week, cos I need them to be soft with each other 🤣 I've been deliberately vague about what caused the bust up cos I couldn't be bothered making up a case.

I didn’t think you cared

“Jean!” Alice greeted her, as her friend enveloped her in her arms. “It’s so good to see you!”

Jean smiled into Alice’s hair, “It’s been too long. Why do you have to stay away for so long?”

“Work I’m afraid,” Alice pulled back and smiled at Jean. But at the back of her mind, she knew the real reason she wished to spend as little time as possible in the place that held too many memories. Her eyes darted around the room searching for anything that might remind her of him, and at the same time dreading finding it.

Jean saw her looking. “Matthew’s at the station,” she said gently.

Alice shot a sharp look at her, “What? Why do I care?” she lied.

Jean sighed. “Why don’t you just talk to him. It’s been years since the Johnston case.”

Alice shook her head. “Jean, what’s done is done. You can’t change the past.”

Alice remembered as if it were yesterday. A combination of not enough sleep, quick tempers and stubbornness had led to a huge blow up, right in the middle of the driveway. Alice had turned and walked away from the single most important person in her life, and Matthew hadn’t come after her. She had signed the job acceptance letter that night, packed up her little flat, she didn’t own much, and had moved to Melbourne by the end of the week.  Since then she’d only returned to Ballarat for the occasional weekend, often barely spending a day there before heading back. She knew they had both handled things badly, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she recalled how she had behaved. ‘It was for the best’ she kept telling herself. She didn’t need a man hanging around, making things difficult, and Matthew would be much better off with someone less complicated and messy. Alice shivered as she remembered his feather light touch, the way he used to trail his fingertips up her arms. There was no denying that she missed him. She missed the way he held her, the way he made her feel safe, the way he knew just how she took her tea. Within Melbourne general hospital she was very well respected and her expertise was often sought, but at home she was lonely, and missed the familiarity she had had with Matthew, and the little family that they had formed with Jean and Lucien.

Jean stared at her for longer than was necessary and Alice felt, not for the first time, as though Jean could see right through her, could read her soul.

Finally Jean looked away. “Right, well I was just about to head to the grocery store. You coming along, or staying here?”

Alice shrugged, I’ll come with you,” she was eager to see if the town had changed since she’d been away.

It was a beautiful Autumn day, the bright orange leaves covering the ground, and as they walked, they chatted easily. Alice told Jean about some of the more interesting things she’d seen in Melbourne, and Jean updated Alice on the goings on in Ballarat.

When they got to the store Jean turned to Alice. “You needn’t come in, I won’t be long.”

Alice nodded and leant against the verandah post. If she was honest with herself, she felt slightly relieved. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy Jean’s company, but after so many months of her solitary life, with limited work interactions, her social tolerance levels were low. She looked up at the huge gum trees that lined the street and watched them sway in the soft breeze, enjoying the moment of peace and quiet. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the familiar eucalyptus scent and felt a pang of homesickness. They didn’t have trees like this in the centre of Melbourne. She moved backwards to admire the tree’s grandeur, and stepped right into the path of a cyclist racing past. Knocking her off balance, he gave a shout and sped off as Alice fell. Her head smacked into the pavement as the world suddenly was on an angle.

People crowded around her as Alice tried frantically to not black out. “I’m fine, Please, go back to whatever you were doing, I just need a moment,” she heard herself mumble slightly incoherently. The bikes handlebar had caught her in the ribs and it hurt to breathe.

“What’s going on here?” an all too familiar voice cut through the crowd. The one person Alice did not want to see. Not now, not like this, preferably not ever again. She struggled to sit upright as the crowd parted and let Superintendent Lawson through. Their eyes met and Alice saw a flash of recognition in his piercing blue eyes.

“Alright everyone, nothing to see here, bugger off.” Matthews low gruff voice grumbled, and the crowd of people slowly and reluctantly dwindled away. Alice had forgotten how soothing his voice was to her and she closed her eyes and her breath hitched with pain as she tried to breathe deeply. When she opened her eyes again Matthew was staring at her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked stupidly.

“Um In case you’ve forgotten, I live and work here? My name is Matthew Lawson? I’m the Police Superintendent?” His voice dripped with bitter sarcasm. “Maybe it’s me who should be asking you that question.” He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows at her.

Alice glared. “Idiot. I meant here, here. In the main street.”

“Popped out to get some smokes.”

“They’ll kill you you know.”

“Didn’t think you cared” Matthew retorted dismissively.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“What are you doing back here anyway?”

“I came to see Jean. My friend.” Alice replied pointedly God, she wished he would just stop looking at her!

Matthew shrugged nonchalantly, “Want to tell me what happened here?”

“I stepped backwards into the path of a cyclist.”

“Are you alright?”

“Didn’t think you cared,” Alice shot his own words back at him and they stared at each other awkwardly.

Matthew sighed with frustration. “You’re the doctor, do I need to call an ambulance?”

“I just banged my head as I went down. And I’ll have a bruised rib where the handlebar caught me.” Her fingers tentatively probed the back of her head and she found a lump forming. “No lasting damage, I’m sure you’ll be disappointed.” It was a stupid thing to say and she wasn’t sure why she said it.

Matthew crouched down and looked her in the eyes. “I know this might be hard to believe after everything that’s happened but I could never wish harm on you,” his low quiet voice rumbled.

God Alice had forgotten how lost she could get in his eyes. For a moment she felt that all too familiar pull towards him and had to force her eyes elsewhere. They weren’t together anymore. They hadn’t been for some time. And she’d been doing perfectly well without him.

She cleared her throat and began to stand.

“Are you sure you’re ready to get up. You could have concussion if you hit your head” Matthew garbled as he took her arm and tried to help her up.

Alice wrenched his arm out of his hand. “I am a doctor, As you so kindly pointed out, Superintendent. I do know how things work.” She pushed herself up, and gasped as pain shot up her ankle and she almost collapsed back on to the ground.

“Here, lean on me.”

She shot Matthew a glance, who finally lost his temper.

“Listen, whatever you think of me right now, it’s time to swallow that bloody pride of yours and accept some help!” he hissed crossly. “You’ve obviously twisted your ankle and you’re not going to get far without help. Lucien’s at the station. Let me take you to him.”

Alice’s mind was racing and she was just about to tell Matthew Lawson exactly what he could do with his 'help', as Jean appeared with her arms full of groceries.

“Alice? Oh My goodness, what happened?”

“I had a slight altercation with a cyclist” Alice sniffed as she held on to the verandah post for balance.

“She’s twisted her ankle, banged her head, and bruised a rib. I was about to take her to see Lucien at the station,” Matthew supplied.

Jean looked at Matthew and then back to Alice, who was looking anywhere but at him.

“I’m fine,” Alice said through gritted teeth.

Matthew raised one eyebrow, “Doctor Harvey, I would assume you would know how to diagnose and treat a twisted ankle, a concussion and a busted rib?” he asked pointedly.

“Of course!”

“Well then, If you can tell me, in all honesty, that if you were treating yourself, that you wouldn’t diagnose a twisted ankle, a concussion and a busted rib, I’ll leave you be” Matthew said knowingly.

Alice ground her teeth, looked stubbornly at the sky and said nothing.

“I thought as much. Come on,” Matthew held his arm out and after a moment of hesitation Alice took it reluctantly.

Jean followed behind them swallowing a smile as she listened to them bickering. It was like old times really, Maybe this was the start of a reconciliation.

Also on ao3

and ff.net

[naturallytom]

Little Things (Tom Holland x reader)

a/n: this is for @rosyparkers​ writing challenge!! italics are flashbacks, bold is the prompt!! again i hope u enjoy this im sorry it’s been like 10 years since i’ve posted something lmao also big thank u to @sunshinehollandd​ for reading this over!!

warnings: a lil angst, scared of opening up/being vulnerable, other than that it’s fluffy fluff 

prompt: “Do you want to know the hardest thing about having a soulmate? It’s not the separation in the beginning, not the endless nights lying awake, hoping and praying that someone was made for you. It’s…it’s the love. It’s too strong, and you can’t fight it. I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried…but I’m always going to love you. And I need you to know that.”

“You ready, my love?” Tom held his hand out to you as the dj announced it was time for your first dance, his brown eyes radiating a type of warmth that brought you comfort when you needed it most. You placed your hand in his and allowed him to guide the two of you to the dance floor, his hands going to your waist while you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” He asked, his voice so soft only you could hear it. 

“Only a million times.” You smiled, hiding your face in his neck. It amazed you that even after years of dating he still had that effect on you. 

“I’ll tell you a million more times, then.” He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

“Not so bad yourself.” You replied, a small smile on your lips as your mind wandered to when you first met Tom and how far you came with him. 

“What are you thinking about?” Tom chuckled. 

“How do you know I’m thinking about something?” 

“You have that look on your face. The one you make when you’re deep in thought.” He told you, pressing another kiss to your head. “Everything okay?” 

“Mhmm. Just thinking about how far we’ve come.” You told him honestly. 

“We have come a long way, huh?” He smiled. “Remember when we first met?” 

“How could I forget?” You chuckled, your mind replaying the day you met him as if it was yesterday. 

The first snowfall of the season and you were in your room studying for an exam. Not ideal at all but you had this big exam coming up that you just couldn’t fail so you had to study as much as you could-

“y/n?” Your roommate poked her head into your room, a hopeful smile on her face. “How much studying do you have to do?”

“Ermm a lot, why?” You asked, flipping through your study guide so far. 

“Was thinking we could go out in the snow, at least for a little bit?” She grinned. 

“I don’t know, I still have a lot of studying to do-” 

“You’ve been studying all day! Come on, you need a break.” She argued, making you sigh. 

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick break. But only for a little bit!” You gave in, making your roommate cheer as the two of you got ready to brace the cold winter air. 

“It’s so pretty.” Your roommate said, her voice almost a whisper as the two of you took in the scene while you walked to the nearby park. 

Light, fluffy snow fell from the sky, landing softly on the ground around you as well as on your faces. For a moment when you looked up at the night sky, seeing glimpses of the stars and the snow falling, all your worries and obligations washed away, bringing on a sense of peace. 

The two of you arrived at the park, seeing other people there, all enjoying the snow. People were making snow angels and snow men, while others were having a snowball fight. 

“Hey check this out!” You roommate called, laying down in the snow and making a snow angel, sitting up when she was done. “How’s it look?”

“Not bad.” You laughed, bending down and molding some snow into a ball. “But unfortunately this snowball is too good not to be thrown and you’re the target so..”

Your roommate stood up and fortunately for her but unfortunately for you, she moved out of your way right as you let go of the snowball, allowing it to crash into the man right behind her. 

“Oh shit!” You gasped as he turned around, a look of confusion and slight amusement on his face while your roommate was hysterically laughing off to the side. “I’m so sorry!”

“That meant to be for her?” He chuckled, making you nod. 

“I’m so sorry, I tried to throw it at her but she moved at the last minute and-”

“Hey don’t worry about it.” He assured you. “I’m Tom.” 

“y/n.” You replied. “Really is there any way I could make it up to you?”

“Really it’s fine.” He laughed. “But I am getting cold so I was gonna go across the street and get a tea, if you’d like to join.”

“Sure, but I’m paying for yours.” You insisted, making Tom smile. 

“Pretty sure I’m supposed to pay for yours.” He tried, but you shook your head.

“No, no. It’s my treat. I’m the one who hit you with a snowball, after all.” 

“You looked so cute that night. The snow was falling and sticking to your eyelashes and the moonlight was hitting you just right. God, you looked like an angel. Still look like an angel.” He sighed. 

“Yeah an angel who didn’t let you in for a long ass time.” You chuckled. “‘M not sure what you did but you made me open up to the idea of being vulnerable and open to someone else. I hadn’t really done that before you.”

It had been almost eight months since the snowball incident and to your surprise, Tom was your (very caring) boyfriend. It sort of came as a shock to you when he asked you to be his girlfriend. You definitely had strong feelings for him, no doubt about it. But you weren’t good about expressing them. Tom liked to talk about his and open up his heart to you while you liked to keep your heart guarded and show you cared with smaller actions. 

Tom was patient, though. He was patient and caring and understanding and it made your heart swell within your chest to the point that you weren’t even sure if you could keep it to yourself. He didn’t rush you into opening up or being vulnerable, but he noticed the small smile that formed on your lips whenever you showed him a song or meme that reminded you of him. He noticed the way your eyes sparkled with pride when you successfully made his favorite meal to surprise him after a long day. 

You noticed the little things Tom did too. Like how he always took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders if you were out on a date and you got cold. Or how he always offered to walk or drive you home before you moved in and if he couldn’t or if you drove yourself, he would tell you to drive safe and to text him when you got home. 

“All those little things you did just made me fall even more in love with you.” He laughed softly. “Maybe I rubbed off on you a little bit.” 

“Maybe.” You sighed, your head resting gently on his shoulder. “You told me you loved me all the time, it probably rubbed off on me little by little until I said it.” 

A year and a half after a snowball resulted in you meeting the man of your dreams, you and Tom were still going strong, but you were scared. Tom had told you he loved you so many times yet you couldn’t find yourself to say those three little words back. 

“I love you.” He would say. “You’re my soulmate.” 

You loved him, you know you did. But despite Tom telling you all the time how much he loves you and that you were his soulmate, you were still scared. What if you said it and he rejected you? What if the two of you broke up and you were open and vulnerable for no reason? 

It happened one night when you were laying in bed, your head resting on Tom’s chest, playing with hands, lost in thought. 

“What’s on your pretty little mind, hm?” He murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead softly. 

“Nothing.” Lie. You were actually thinking about how much you loved him and how lucky you were to have him in your life, but the thought of opening up like that terrified you. You fell in love the way you fall asleep, slowly and then all at once. 

“Do you want to know the hardest thing about having a soulmate? It’s not the separation in the beginning, not the endless nights lying awake, hoping and praying that someone was made for you. It’s…it’s the love. It’s too strong, and you can’t fight it. I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried…but I’m always going to love you. And I need you to know that.” He said softly, as if he could read your mind. 

“How do you know you’ll always love me, though?” You asked. “That’s a long time.”

“Darling I fall more in love with you every day.” He chuckled. 

“It’s just,” you started, not thinking about the words that left your mouth next. “I do love you but I’m scared. I don’t like being vulnerable like that, you know this.” 

Tom paused before he let out a soft laugh, a sense of ‘I knew it’ mixed with confusion taking over your body. 

“What?” You asked, starting to get mildly defensive. 

“Baby you just said you loved me.” He smiled, making your eyes widen. 

“I did?”

“Mhmm. Also said you were scared and didn’t like being vulnerable.” He mumbled against your head, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles softly. “Being vulnerable is what makes us human, lovey. ‘S okay to open yourself up, especially to me.” 

“What if you didn’t feel the same way?” You glanced up at him, a small smile on his lips. “What if we broke up?”

“Neither of those are even possibilities.” He assured you. “I love you too much.” 

You paused before responding. “I love you too.”

As the song came to an end, you found yourself overwhelmed with love and felt tears involuntarily fill your eyes. Tom frowned lightly when he saw the tears, pausing to hold your face in his hands gently, concern in his eyes.

“What’s wrong, hm? Regret marrying me already?” He teased, making you laugh softly. 

“No. ‘M just really happy. I really love you. Don’t think I’ll ever stop.” You murmured, the concern and frown on Tom’s face being replaced with pure love and adoration. 

“Good, darling, because you’re stuck with me forever now.” He replied.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

_______________________________________________________________________

please rb/leave feedback!!

tagging some mutuals: @daydreamparker​ @angelic-holland​ @moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown​

[stevenbasic]

“Omigod you were right, Olivia, serving him papers now,” the blonde said to her friend, “it’s a thrill doing this to him.”

The two women sat in a smartly-suburban, well-appointed dining room, early on a Tuesday morning. Coffee brewed in the kitchen while plans were about to do the same across the oversized table of reclaimed wood.

“You are hitting him from all sides, Sher,” the tall redhead chuckled, “I mean...he deserves everything he’s getting. I’m impressed you were able to hold out this long, surprised that you didn’t do this earlier.”

“It took me awhile to realize it but yeah,” Sheryl responded, smiling to herself in pride, considering what she’d done, all the work it took, what she’d made of herself, “I want to watch as it happens. I want to see how small and weak and powerless I can make him. He’s going to have nothing. He’s going to be nothing, when I get through with him. I’m going to reduce him to a sniveling little...I dunno, cretin, tugging on my skirt, begging me for pocket change.”

“He’s going to be totally dependent on you, Sher,” Olivia marveled, goading the blonde on. She loved that, after all these months of friendship, she’d gotten Sheryl to this point. That she was Viral Positive probably helped, but she was nonetheless absolutely bought-in to the movement, one hundred percent, and it was a sight to see. She knew Sheryl was going to be a fantastic addition to the Collective, when the time came. “A fucking parasite. A leech.”

“Yeah huh? It’s so fucking exciting. So fucking hot. I just have to find the right tit to latch him on to, and I can sit back and just watch him squirm there,” Sheryl mused, pausing to consider the image and smiling in amusement. “Right, or left. I’ll let her decide.”

Gaily, Olivia laughed along with her friend and watched her, looking for any signs of regret, remorse, jealousy. Any hint that she was mourning the life she was leaving behind, or lamenting the one to which she was cursing her husband. What she saw was the opposite. Sheryl was excited, ecstatic, euphoric. She looked eager for the order of this new world.

“Speaking of, you’re in luck,” the redhead said, “I hear he got step one of the accelerant yesterday.”

To that, Sheryl’s eyes went wide, her mouth dropping open in exuberant shock. Her lids fluttered, and she looked suddenly transfixed. “Ssssnnnnngh...omigod, already?” she moaned, “Wh-what did it do to him?”

Olivia smiled, seeing how plain the effect of the virus was in her friend. She loved this, seeing how enraptured women became now, picturing these newly-weakling men. “Well, we don’t have a measurement yet, but his numbers look good. Here…”

With that, Olivia pulled her phone from up out of her bra, swiped it on.”Looks like he just woke up an hour or so ago,” she said, scrolling through data on an app, “Hasn’t had his caffeine yet. Here, see for yourself...”

As Olivia showed her the screen of her phone, the data detailing her husband’s vital statistics in real time, Sheryl cocked her head, fascinated. “I...I can’t say I understand a lot of this - hey, is that actually a map, showing where he is?” she said, obviously impressed, “but I do find it amazing what we can do.”

”Well, it’s really all thanks to you that this is working, that we got it all to this point,“ Olivia replied, “Do you want this? To be able to track him?”

”Hmm...no, it’s okay. I don’t need to at this point. I don’t want to waste the mental energy on him anymore,” Sheryl answered, sitting back in her chair, “I just love that he’s going to get what he’s always wanted. And that he can see it coming, but’s doing nothing to get out of the way...god. The moron. So predictable.” In reflection, she tapped her long, well-manicured nails on the table, and spoke again. “The rest...they won’t know what hit ‘em.”

Olivia smiled. Perfect. ”Oh, it’s hit them already, they just don’t know it yet,” she intoned, stopping herself there. She couldn’t give away too much, even to Sheryl. “Okay, I’ll get the coffee, and then let’s get back to that new lease agreement...”

================================

Sorry for the wait, getting everything perfect with the new Melissa images (now avail with the next post on Patreon) courtesy of brother Beetlebomb.

[satonthelotuspier]

I’m a bit under the weather rn and unable to get out of bed. Using the time to do some work on the NieLan fic (8k in, getting there, ish?) between feeling sorry for myself, and I haven’t put anything out for a while. Therefore, have the SFT - Safe for Tumblr (but still a little spicy) part of the XiCheng cat ears fic that took over my brain based loosely on this post here. Full version (when I’ve finished it, it is not this day though) will go on AO3. Contains sexual language.

Jiang Cheng realised he’d fucked up when he saw the presents on the dining table.

Well, at first he didn’t, at first he ran through the list of birthdays, wedding anniversaries, friends who were expectant and so forth in his head and came up completely blank.

Then the date clicked in his brain.

February 14th.

Fuck.

He had forgotten Valentines day. And the worst thing was he knew Lan Xichen wouldn’t mind. He was too fucking laid back, too accepting of Jiang Cheng’s failings as a boyfriend, or, even worse, he had such low expectations of Jiang Cheng to begin with.

Had he heard Jiang Cheng come in?

Snowdrop hadn’t raised a fuss and run to him, so maybe they were out on a walk, or in the garden, and Jiang Cheng could sneak back out and head straight to the mall.

Even the thought of dealing with the mass of humanity out valentines shopping for their significant other’s was the lesser of evils when measured against Lan Xichen’s happiness.

He had just turned to walk back to the door and try and slip out when the excited barking and scritch of toenails on the wooden floor announced he’d been made.

Snowdrop barrelled through the house and over to Jiang Cheng to announce how pleased she was he had returned, followed by Lan Xichen who wrapped him up in a hug and placed a gentle kiss against his lips.

“Wanyin” he murmured, “Welcome back, we missed you”

“I only left yesterday morning” Jiang Cheng couldn’t help replying.

“And I missed you since yesterday morning” thank goodness Lan Xichen wasn’t sensitive about Jiang Cheng’s inability to accept tenderness without returning sarcasm.

“OK, needy much?” Jiang Cheng was answered this time with another kiss.

He was released eventually, and Snowdrop wanted another turn at his attention, which he was glad to give her, to avoid the inevitable evidence of his huge fuck up getting out.

Once Snowdrop was sated he could ignore Lan Xichen and the situation no longer; at least he had thought so but the other had retreated to the kitchen to make a request for dinner from the chef.

Honestly Jiang Cheng still wasn’t used to having staff, not that he did, they were definitely Lan Xichen’s.

Just like the majority of this house.

Jiang Cheng had eventually given in to Lan Xichen on the issue of living arrangements, the other arguing it was stupid to resent his money and for them to live below their means just for the sake of Jiang Cheng’s pride. But Jiang Cheng had forced the other to have a contract drawn up which had stipulated if, for whatever reason (i.e. Lan Xichen’s reaching his limit with Jiang Cheng) they broke up Jiang Cheng would only walk away with what he had put into the cost of their house, which was almost negligible in comparison. Lan Xichen had told him he felt uncomfortable with the stipulation but of course had had no other option but to agree, especially when Jiang Cheng told him it was the only way he’d feel any measure of comfort with the arrangement.

                                                            ***

The presents weren’t touched upon again until much later that evening. Lan Xichen had disappeared briefly with their empty wine glasses and reappeared with the two boxes in his hands.

Jiang Cheng swallowed nervously. He was about to make his grovelling apology when one of the boxes was placed on his lap.

“Happy Valentines” Lan Xichen told him and watched expectantly. Jiang Cheng opened the box to find it contained expensive spicy chocolates.

Something the Jiangs would devour but would be anathema to the Lans more ascetic palate.

Jiang Cheng forgot his guilt for a moment in his excitement.

“Oh my God, how did you find out about these? Wei Wuxian has been drooling over these for months in group chat” Jiang Cheng exclaimed; he was about to break into them when he thought better of it.

“I have my ways” was all Lan Xichen would reveal on the subject.

“I’m going to love trying them, and rubbing Wei Wuxian’s face in it. Thank you” he actually leaned over to press a kiss against Lan Xichen’s lips, and the other beamed like he’d been offered a blowjob rather than just one, freely given, kiss. Which, considering his complete and utter failure to prepare for the most romantic holiday of the year was about all he had to offer the other in return.

The thought sobered him and he was about to apologise when again Lan Xichen forestalled it by dropping the other parcel in his lap.

Lan Xichen actually looked a little giddy, and it made Jiang Cheng forget his own incompetence for the second time in virtually as many minutes; he pulled the lid off the box.

And his soul left his body.

He genuinely didn’t know where to put his eyes; he was fucking sure he’d never be able to look Lan Xichen in the face again.

As soon as he thought it his eyes snapped up, “Y-you got me cat ears? For Valentines Day? Do you want your legs breaking?”

“Don’t be silly, I got me cat ears. And you missed the cute little paw-print choker” Lan Xichen pointed helpfully into the bottom of the box. “I thought you might struggle to have a gift arranged with attending your seminar, so I took the liberty of helping out. I thought you might like to...” he gestured at Jiang Cheng.

Had his eyes bulged? He felt like his eyes bulged.

This manipulative little shit though.

“Are you insane, do you crave death?”

There was a delicate shrug, “I thought you’d look very cute, is all. I understand if you don’t want to” despite his claimed understanding, Lan Xichen managed to sound pouty; but the box was put aside and wasn’t mentioned again by him.

                                                           ***

“You’re a fucking idiot” Jiang Cheng told himself later, as he stood in front of the vanity mirror in the bathroom.

Lan Xichen had taken a call from his uncle about bank business and Jiang Cheng had used the opportunity to grab the forgotten gift box and sequester himself in the en suite.

Was he really going to allow himself to be manipulated into this?

He was sure the embarrassment would make him squirm for years to come if he did.

He looked down at the cat ear headband in his hands, then back at the mirror.

He was more than a little tempted to just throw them straight into the bin, but the soft, sulky look on Lan Xichen’s face earlier had tickled his sense of guilt. Of course the other looked gorgeous even in his petulance, and he wasn’t by nature a sullen creature, so Jiang Cheng was fully aware it was all skin deep for the purpose of manoeuvring him into giving in and wearing the cursed objects; unfortunately his body was unable to build up the immunity required to protect against Lan Xichen.

He supposed he should just be thankful there was no butt-plug tail…

He let out a long, heartfelt sigh, placed the ears to one side and reached for the choker.

                                                             ***

He supposed the sexier thing to do would have been to strip naked, or at least take his t-shirt off, but he was fucked if he was going to make it even more embarrassing for himself. Therefore he was still fully clothed in his dark jeans and white v-neck t-shirt when he heard Lan Xichen enter the bedroom.

He wavered at the bathroom door for several seconds, his face a beacon of flushed self-consciousness.

He knew if he left it any longer he’d bottle it, and it would render the most embarrassing part of actually putting the accessories on and seeing himself in the mirror, moot, so he sucked in a quick, steadying breath and walked out into the bedroom.

He definitely couldn’t meet Lan Xichen’s gaze now though.

He looked determinedly at the floor as Lan Xichen turned to him.

He heard the sucked in breath, “Wanyin” the other’s voice was delighted and he expected to be crowded by Lan Xichen; either hugged or kissed. Instead he heard the double click of a mobile taking pictures.

His temper overtook his embarrassment, his eyes flared as they rose to take in Lan Xichen holding his phone.

He leapt forward, intending to take the mobile off Lan Xichen with a snarled; “You asshole”

Lan Xichen was so much faster though, and quicker than Jiang Cheng could react he caught Jiang Cheng’s wrists and used his attacking momentum to overbalance him and send them both down to the mattress. Jiang Cheng’s wrists were pinned to the bed and the offending mobile had vanished out of sight.

“You can delete the pictures later, I promise” Lan Xichen said as he looked down into Jiang Cheng’s incensed face.

“Why not now, asshole?” he swore he wasn’t going to give the other the satisfaction of pulling on his wrists, but he couldn’t help it and he ended up trying to twist his body beneath Lan Xichen; who of course greatly enjoyed the friction.

“Because I quite like you where you are right now, A-Cheng. Such a hissing, spitting kitten” Lan Xichen mocked, keeping out of biting range, but Jiang Cheng had begun to calm down as soon as he realised Lan Xichen had enacted the whole scenario to make him forget his embarrassment.

“Such a spoiled little prince, manoeuvring to get his own way all the time” Jiang Cheng snapped up at Lan Xichen, whose eyes shone with amusement.

“Let me show you the benefit of being with a spoiled prince who always gets his own way then; if I petted you nicely, would you purr for me?”

“So fucking shameless. How thick is your face that you can spout such rubbish constantly?”

“It’s a good thing we don’t both have a thin face, A-Cheng” Lan Xichen took a chance and leaned down to nuzzle at Jiang Cheng’s jawline; when the other didn’t react negatively he followed it’s line with a trail of gentle kisses, before capturing Jiang Cheng’s mouth, his own firm and possessive.

[geekmama]

All Souls

I had this written, and Ellis_Hendricks very kindly betaed and Brit-picked it, over a week ago, and was waiting until this weekend before Halloween to post it for Sherlolly Halloween at 221B, but cactusnell beat me to the punch, posting her uncannily similar Things That Go Bump in the Night early yesterday morning. With apologies to her, I’m posting mine here, at least, since I don’t think she hangs out at tumblr, but I’m not putting it on AO3 or FF.net. Apparently it’ s an all-too-obvious plotline -- or great minds think alike?

~ All Souls ~

The rain had nearly stopped by the time they reached the village of Grendon and the house where Molly had grown up, and where her mother still lived. He’d been there once before, a few months ago, not long after the Sherrinford/Musgrave debacle, and the house hadn’t changed. Still quite undistinguished from the other residences in this thoroughly middle class neighborhood. For the second time, Sherlock found himself wondering that the unique creature beside him, his beloved, could have sprung from this thoroughly mundane environment. Of course, it had taken him an unconscionably long time to realize exactly how unique Molly was. It seemed irrefutable proof that, while he was very quick in most areas of perception, he could be slow to the point of idiocy in others – and some of them rather essential. It was always possible, Sherlock reflected, as he pulled the car into the drive, that there was more to Molly’s childhood home, too, than first contact had suggested.

However, as they walked in a minute later and Sherlock became immersed in this second contact -- ordinary furnishings, framed family photos and drab art reproductions; carpet and wallpaper well maintained but virtually screaming late 90’s -- he was once again struck by the banality of the place. Molly’s old room on the first floor was a little better, he knew, still featuring elements of her personality even after being purged of her belongings and made into a guest room. But all in all, it was… disappointing.

There being no sign of her mother, Molly called out, “Mum! We’re here!”

Her mother shouted from upstairs, “I’ll be down in… oh, good heavens. Molly dear, can you come up and help me for a moment? Tell Sherlock to have a seat, I’ll just be a few minutes, I’m sure… oh, good grief!”,

Sherlock couldn’t help rolling his eyes, and Molly chuckled and said, “Her zip’s probably stuck -- she always wears that dress to weddings. Make yourself at home and I’ll be right back.”

Home? Sherlock nearly exclaimed with distaste, but caught himself in the nick of time. Instead he said aloud, “I’ll go and take a look at your mother’s greenhouse, see what she’s been up to.”

“Good idea,” Molly said with approval, patting his arm, and then stood on tiptoe to give him a quick kiss. Her eyes twinkled, as though she knew exactly what he’d been about to say. Which she probably did.

As he watched her trot quickly up the stairs, caroling, “Coming Mum!” in reply to another bleat of motherly distress, Sherlock reflected that it had been a long time since he’d been able to put one over on Molly Elizabeth Hooper. In certain ways, she undoubtedly had the advantage now. He found it both intriguing and disconcerting, but could not but acknowledge the justice of it. Sauce for the gander, as it were.

A half smile on his lips (oh, that twinkle in her eye… not to mention the flash of those slim legs, and the delicious swirl of skirt against that pert backside...) , Sherlock turned and strode through the sitting room, the dining room, the kitchen, then out the back door, shutting it behind him and taking a deep breath of damp country air. His hand automatically went to the packet of Silk Cuts in his pocket, but then he discarded the idea -- she wanted him to quit, though she never said anything. If he had a smoke now, she’d know.

Instead, he started out across the wet lawn, toward the greenhouse.

The property had this one advantage: it had a very large back garden that bordered on open parkland, and at the back of the wide lawn was Mrs. Hooper’s greenhouse. It was a really magnificent structure, a red brick half-wall and porch surmounted by high framed glass, and fitted with Victorian finials and fleur de lys ridge cresting. It was, Sherlock knew, Mrs. Hooper’s pride and joy, and the first time he’d seen it, all those months ago, he’d been most impressed. She grew tropical plants, orchids and palms and the like, and the structure was big enough to serve as a sort of conservatory. Now, opening the door, Sherlock saw the small cafe table and several chairs where one could take afternoon tea, and slung across one verdant corner was a hammock.

There were also a couple of stools. One of them was beside Mrs. Hooper’s wide, well-equipped potting bench; the other, however, was in the corner opposite the hammock, and upon it, just at this particular moment, was seated a man, an older gentleman in a somewhat outdated suit, smoking a prettily carved meerschaum pipe that was coloured deep gold from much use.

Sherlock, halting just inside the door, stared in surprise.

But the old gentleman spoke first. “You’re Sherlock. Molly’s young man,” he stated with a kindly smile.

Sherlock approached, somewhat warily (and almost giving a ridiculous start at the sound of the door clicking shut behind him). But the stranger rose from the stool to extend a friendly hand, and Sherlock felt obliged to take it. Clearly the man was in familiar surroundings, and his grip was warm and firm.

“The name’s Bev,” the old gentleman said, taking his seat again and looking Sherlock over, head to toe. “I’ve been wondering if Molly would bring you by. She doesn’t come here as often as her mother would like, that’s certain. It seems you two have worked things out. I must say, I’m glad of it.”

“Are you… a neighbor?” Sherlock asked, feeling quite awkward.

“You might say so,” said Bev, with a jerk of his head to indicate the direction. “Just across the common, by the old church. But Amanda doesn’t mind me visiting when I like. It’s a pretty place, this.”

“It is,” Sherlock agreed, glancing around, but then fixing Bev with a frowning gaze again. “You’ve… known Molly and her mother a long time, I take it.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve known Molly all her life, bless her. Good job you’ve come to your senses and snapped her up. She was mighty unhappy at times when you couldn’t see her -- as it were.”

“See her,” Sherlock repeated. “Did she tell you that?”

“Didn’t have to. As I said, known her all her life. But that’s water under the bridge now, I take it.”

“Well… yes. We are engaged to be married. Sometime next year, in fact. We haven’t set a date but… we’ll send you an invitation.”

Bev grinned. “Oh, I’ll be there -- with bells on! Lord, it’ll do my heart good to see her so happy.” And then he shook his finger at Sherlock and said more seriously, “You just see that she stays that way, eh? Don’t forget what a treasure you’ve been given.”

“I… that’s my intention, certainly. To make her happy. As far as I am able, at least.”

Bev nodded. “Good. Best thing in life, you know. A good marriage. Children. All the little things that make a real home. True blessings from God.”

“Yeees. I… I expect so.”

“You’ll see,” Bev said, and winked at Sherlock. Then he got to his feet again. “You know Molly’s favorite flowers?”

Flowers. Sherlock glanced around, but then thought of Molly’s own well tended garden. “Er…. roses?”

“Well, she likes those, too, of course, but here, let me show you.” Bev walked past Sherlock, and rounded the potting bench, halting beside a rack of small pots, each filled with an array of lush, velvety leaves and bright blooms in shades from white to deep purple. “African violets!” the older man said, with a twinkle in his eye as he looked back at Sherlock. “Amanda’s always grown them out here, and Molly’s always loved them. She can’t grow them herself, though, not in that London flat. Not enough light, wrong exposure. A greenhouse window in that kitchen of hers might do the trick.”

Sherlock came over to look at the plants. “These seem excellent specimens.”

“Amanda always did have the knack of growing them.”

“So it seems.”

They stood in silence for a few moments before Bev said, “Well, I’ve got to be off. But you should take a look in that big notebook, on the bench there. Has all Amanda’s notes, and all the ribbons she’s won. She’s quite the star at the local garden shows.”

Sherlock took up the thick notebook from the collection of gardening tomes that sat between bookends at the back of the potting bench. Opening it, he glanced through some of its pages. Amanda’s careful records and observations were very precise, and her writing small and neat. And the collection of ribbons was indeed impressive.

After a minute or so, Sherlock looked up, intending to make a comment and say goodbye. But the old gentleman was gone, the greenhouse door still ajar.

Sherlock frowned. Closed the notebook and put it back among its companions, then quickly followed Bev from the greenhouse.

Or he thought he had.

But the man was nowhere to be seen.

Could he have reached the house so quickly? There was no evidence of it, only Sherlock’s own prints on the wet lawn, left when he’d walked out to the greenhouse. And glancing back beyond Amanda’s garden, there was no sign of an old gentleman crossing the common toward the distant steepled church.

Sherlock walked to the house and went swiftly in, only to encounter a scene of mild chaos.

“Oh, dear! Where can they be?” Amanda exclaimed, looking distractedly around the sitting room. “I know I left them down here somewhere!”

“She’s looking for her earrings,” Molly explained to Sherlock as she came to him.

“Molly, did you see--”

“I know!” Amanda exclaimed, suddenly straightening and raising an imperative finger. “They’re in the library!” She turned and headed in the direction of a closed door on the far side of the tiled foyer. “I took them off when I was in there on Sunday afternoon, making out a check for Martha Havisham’s daughter, she was selling tickets for a raffle that’s being held to raise funds for a new computer lab they want to install at her school -- though what they need with computers I have no idea, they should be reading books, not wasting time with games. But time marches on, I suppose. Yes! Here they are. Bear with me a moment while I put them on, and then we can be off.”

They had followed Amanda into the library, a room Sherlock was seeing for the first time.

“This was my father’s special room,” Molly said. “Mum had her greenhouse, and Dad his library.”

“Oh, yes,” said Amanda, peering in the mirror over the fireplace as she carefully put on her earrings. “It always gives me such a lovely feel to work in here, as though Daddy is watching over me.”

But Sherlock, who’d been taking in the oak desk with its comfortable chair, and the many books, suddenly felt a weird chill as he caught sight of an object displayed on one of the shelves.

In a stand that had been crafted to fit it was a meerschaum pipe. Prettily carved. Coloured a deep gold from much use.

Sherlock walked over to stare at it.

Molly joined him, saying, “That was Dad’s pipe, the only one I ever saw him use.”

Sherlock said, slowly, “Didn’t you tell me your father’s name was William?”

“Yes. William Beverly Hooper. His friends all called him Bill--”

“--but he was always Bev to me,” broke in Amanda. “And to all the family, really.” She gave a little sigh.

Sherlock straightened carefully and turned to Molly.

Her smile faded. “Why? Is there something wrong? Are you alright?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes. Do you have a picture of your father?”

“Of course. I’ll show you.”

She led the way out of the library and back into the sitting room, where that group of somewhat faded family photos hung in frames upon the wall. “Here,” she said, pointing to one of the largest. “It’s Mum and Dad’s wedding portrait. She was a beautiful bride, wasn’t she?”

“Yes,” Sherlock agreed absently. But he only had eyes for the groom.

Younger. But… no, impossible!

Or only improbable?.

Sherlock swallowed hard, trying to dismiss his certainty and failing utterly.

His heart was thudding perceptibly beneath his Belstaff. Beneath his stylish, bespoke suit. Beneath the Dolce and Gabbana dress shirt that had cost upwards of three hundred quid.

All of them ashes.

Vanity of vanities.

He must think. The implications….

“Sherlock?”

Molly had placed a hand on his sleeve.

He looked down at her hand, and then up, into her brown eyes. Confusion was writ there. And concern.

He took a breath. Took her hand in his and swiftly bent and kissed it. Then forced himself to smile. “I’m fine,” he said, and feeling that his voice had been a little off, repeated, “Fine!”

“There, I’m all ready!” Amanda announced brightly, coming into the room. “So sorry to keep you both waiting. Molly, I have no idea what I would have done without you, the zip on this dress is just impossible, perhaps I can get it replaced, we have a very good tailor over in the village who might be able to do it for me at a very reasonable price. Are you two ready to go? We are running behind schedule, you know. You can always look at those old photographs later.”

“Yes, we’re ready,” said Molly, though she did not sound quite certain. “Sherlock?”

“Let’s go then,” he said, lightly.  And he took her arm.

It was odd. The implications…

And yet, absurdly, the thing uppermost in his mind as they walked out to the car was the prospective purchase of a greenhouse window for Molly’s kitchen -- and that Christmas was just around the corner…

 ~.~

[skeletonscribbles]

At Least It’s Not Sports (Part Four - Senior Year, First Semester)

okay I am SO sorry about this but I thought I posted this yesterday and then I looked and it...wasn’t there? so if you’re getting tagged twice in this, I’m sorry. either tumblr ate this last time, or I’m a big idiot. (well...I’m always a big idiot.)

anyways. I decided to break up senior year, so here’s that sweet part 1 for ya <3

Title: At Least It’s Not Sports (High School Drama Club AU)

Pairings: Reddie, Stanlon, Benverly, Bill x Audra

Rating: they’re 18! it’s explicit now whoops

Summary: “Things will be different this year, mama,” he said softly, looking at his Keds. “Can I go?” Things would be different. Things were already different, but she didn’t know that yet. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to know that at all.

Warnings: sexual situations, some cliche Reddie tropes (window climbing etc)

Freshman Year / Sophomore Year / Junior Year /  Senior Year Pt. 2

Read on Ao3!

(sorry for the Crucible Cast Party joke with myself but it’s relevant to the content I swear) Sonia kept Eddie pretty much confined to his room all summer, which was kind of a blessing, but mostly a curse.

The curse part was pretty straightforward. Eddie finished his summer work at the beginning of the third week, and from then on had absolutely nothing to do but daydream and (God forbid) spend time with his mother. Time with Sonia usually started with the television and ended with the bible, so on most days, Eddie picked the first option. He curled up on his bed with a book or a notepad and lost himself thinking and drawing and dreaming of thick glasses, freckled shoulders, and big hands. It would have been sweet and romantic, except that it was a far, far cry from the real thing.

The blessing part came in the form of the real thing, by way of the drainpipe.

On a hot night in the middle of July, Eddie was laying on his bed, Pride and Prejudice folded open on his stomach (it was his fifth readthrough - Lizzie Bennett was up there with Elle Woods on his list of role models) and Whitney Houston playing on his small alarm clock radio. He was in the middle of one of his favorite daydreams - the one where he and Richie ran away together to New York - when he heard it.

Something was tapping against his window.

Eddie, figuring it was a squirrel or some other annoying form of New England wildlife, tried to pull himself back into the daydream. He focused on the shade of Richie’s eyes and the slow, easy stretch of Richie’s mouth, and was just about back to the fantasy when the tap came again.

Cursing under his breath, he set Jane Austen aside and went out to see what was making noise.

When he drew back the curtains, the sight he was met with made him trip over his own feet and fall backwards onto his pink rug.

Richie Tozier was trying to curl his whole body around the frame of Eddie’s window, hanging on with his fingertips and looking terrified as shit.

Once Eddie wrapped his mind around what was happening, he jumped up to open the already cracked window the rest of the way up.

“You could have let yourself in, dumbass,” Eddie chastised him breathlessly, smiling in spite of himself.

“It didn’t seem polite,” Richie replied, gently uncoiling himself and gingerly hoisting his way into the room. He wasn’t very good at it - it took him a couple of different tries to fit his long, stickbug legs through the window in a way that made sense. Eddie did his best to stifle his laughter, but he wasn’t strong enough to choke it back, so he settled for giggling under his breath.

“To what do I owe the displeasure?” Eddie asked, still smiling as he watched Richie try and regain his bearings on the floor of his room. “And how did you know where I live? You’ve never been over here before.”

“I asked Bill.” Richie didn’t seem embarrassed about that in the slightest. “Anyway. I figured you were lonely up here in your prison, and no one else was confident in their drainpipe shimmying skills, so…voila.”

“Voila,” Eddie echoed, drinking in the details of Richie’s face like a man starved. (It had been almost two months; Eddie supposed he was starved, in a way.) “I…uh. I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, I do,” Richie said, and launched into a spirited soliloquy about Bev’s most recent Target shoplifting excursion like they were at the lunch table at school rather than in the middle of Eddie’s dimly lit bedroom that Richie had, within the last five minutes, effectively broken into. Eddie was having trouble listening…not because the story wasn’t interesting, but rather because he wasn’t quite sure if Richie was real or not. After about five minutes, he held up a hand.

“Richie, why did you come here?”

Richie stopped mid-sentence, obviously thrown off. “Huh?”

Eddie squirmed a little. “This isn’t…we don’t see each other except at school. We don’t hang out in the summer. I don’t understand.”

Richie fidgeted with his glasses, obviously embarrassed. “I told you…I figured–”

“Richie,” Eddie said, not interested in putting up with bullshit, “I know what you said.”

Richie huffed out a breath. “I…thought things were different, this year.”

Eddie’s heart leapt. Different?

“Different how?” he asked, searching Richie’s expressive face for any sign of…well, anything.

Richie was truly a consummate actor. He gave Eddie absolutely nothing. “Just…different.”

“Oh.” Eddie willed himself not to feel disappointed. “Carry on.”

Richie did.

He was right, in a way. It was different, one hundred percent different, but not in a way that either of them had to talk about. In fact, talking about it would have ruined whatever electricity was in the air.

Richie talked to him almost all night, and only left because the birds were beginning to sing. After that, his visits became a weekly ritual, and whatever was crackling between them grew stronger and stronger every time. Nothing ever happened, they just sat and talked and stared and smiled, but there was a promise in it - an understanding that it wasn’t ‘if’ something was ever going to happen, but ‘when’.

Even with that being the case, the summer wound down without Eddie’s relationship with Richie escalating at all…except for the fact that they were finally on good enough terms that Eddie wasn’t dreading seeing Richie in school in September.

This year, Sonia had taken up the mantle of dreading Eddie seeing Richie in school in September.

“What are you to do if you see him in school, Eddie Bear?” She had gone all out for his last first day of school - made him a full breakfast, took one million photos, the whole shebang - and now she was trying to use all of her “kindness” to her advantage.

“Avoid him, ma, I know.” Eddie rolled his eyes, itching to get out the door.

“And if he–”

“I won’t touch him, I won’t talk to him, I’ll make friends with girls.” Eddie rattled off all the things he knew she wanted to hear, biting back a long, tortured sigh.

“Good.” Sonia seemed satisfied. Well, almost satisfied. “I still don’t know if it would be wise to let you rejoin that club…”

“The drama club needs me, ma,” Eddie insisted. “I’m the only one who can run their backstage stuff. It’s important.”

Sonia fixed him with her most intimidating stare. “If things start to go back to the way they were, Edward, I’ll have to make some phone calls to doctors. Do you want me to make phone calls to doctors?”

Eddie felt nauseous. There was no question what kind of doctors she’d send him to - in fact, he was pretty surprised he hadn’t been shipped off there already.

“Things will be different this year, mama,” he said softly, looking at his Keds. “Can I go?”

Things would be different. Things were already different, but she didn’t know that yet. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to know that at all.

“Yes.” She tapped her cheek, and he quickly stepped forward and kissed it, stomach still churning. “Have a wonderful first day, sweetheart. Senior year!”

“Senior year,” he repeated, numbly pushing his way out the door.

Richie was waiting for him by the side entrance to the school, where all the drama kids snuck in to hang in the band room before classes started. Eddie thought of his mother…and pushed the thought aside, instead choosing to smile as he approached Richie, heart thrumming in his chest.

“All right, Eds?” Richie smiled back, and Eddie noticed with a little jolt that the remnants of the little bug-eyed kid that flirted with him at their first ever drama workshop were still visible in the crinkles around his eyes; the stretch of his lips. So much had changed, so much was different…but it was the same, too. Eddie kind of liked that it was both. Different and the same.

“Don’t call me Eds,” he said warmly. “Are you ready?”

“Senior year?” Richie laughed, loud and full. “Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting for this my whole life.” He slung an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and began to drag him inside. “Let’s go ruuuuule the schooooool.”

Eddie followed. He was ready, too.

—-

The fall was…tense.

For once, it wasn’t Eddie’s fault. He and Richie fell back into old habits, to the point where Eddie wondered sometimes if he’d imagined whatever spark he was feeling over the summer…but it was okay; it was probably better that they were being professional about their working relationship.

(Eddie didn’t want to be professional about their working relationship…but how was he supposed to tell Richie he didn’t want to be professional when he, the stage manager, was meant to be the apex of professionalism?)

“You’ve got to stop calling me about this,” Stan had told him exasperatedly, after Eddie had called him for the forty-sixth time asking about how he’d managed his relationship with Mike.

“I’m dying, Stan,” Eddie whined, curling into himself on his bed.

“Please do that on your own time.” Stan hung up.

Even with that being the case, the drama club tension was still concentrated hard on Bev, Bill, and Audra. Bill and Audra were still together, and while Bev was pretty solidly over Bill, she was still annoyed by the whole thing.

She was also playing opposite Bill in the fall play. Eddie had groaned upon seeing the cast list - it was clearly one of Ms. Starrett’s reconciliation techniques, and it was absolutely doomed to fail. Offstage, Bill and Bev were more separate than ever, and onstage, their animosity was bleeding into their acting. Richie was all but tearing out his hair over having to share the stage with them.

The worst day of it came in early October, when Bill came to the lunch room from a study-hall meeting with Ms. Starrett with capital ‘N’ News.

“She liked my puh-play!” Bill said excitedly, sliding a copy of the piece he’d been working on in creative writing for the last three years across the table. “She wants to do it this winter!”

They all gaped back at him, astonished. “She wants to put on your student play? As like…a school thing?” Eddie asked, not sure if he’d heard him correctly.

Bill nodded. “She does.”

There was another moment of stunned silence at the table, and then Bev broke it by getting up to leave.

“Bev, seriously?” Bill asked incredulously, clearly fed up with her attitude.

“Seriously what, Bill?” Bev whipped around, glaring daggers at him. “When’s the other shoe gonna drop, huh?”

Bill furrowed his brow. “I don’t follow.”

Bev threw up the arm that wasn’t clutching her stuff. “Oh, I don’t know. You cheat on me - no repercussions, you’re still in a relationship, I’m left out to dry. You write a play, we’re doing it, no questions asked. What about us, huh? What about me?” Her voice broke, and she looked away. Ben reached out a hand to her, but she recoiled from it, clinging so hard to her things that her knuckles turned white.

“I’m sorry,” Bill said, soft and open. “I’m really sorry, Bev. I didn’t do any of it right.”

“You didn’t,” Bev agreed hotly.

“We should have broken up months before,” he continued, “but I didn’t know how to tell you that, because I wanted so badly to be your friend.”

“Well now what?” Bev asked, softer now. “We’re not friends.”

“You’re right. We’re not.” Bill looked at her, unwavering, and Eddie found himself impressed by the way that Bill was handling things. In another life, Bill might have served as a good leader for the group…but they were beyond that, now. “I want to try again.”

Bev turned her gaze to Audra, who had kept mercifully quiet though the whole argument. “And what do you think?”

“I think it’s a good idea.” Audra’s eyes remained on her tray of food. “He wants you to be his costume designer, and I think it’s a good idea, Beverly.”

Bev snapped her eyes back up to Bill in surprise. “Is that true?”

Bill nodded. “And I was hoping Ben could do sets and luh-lights, if that’s of interest to him.”

Ben looked at Bev. “I’ll think about it.”

There was a silence as they waited for Bev to speak, and then:

“Me too,” Bev said, almost inaudibly. “I’m….me too.”

Eddie and Richie looked at each other, hopeful and amazed.

They were right to have hope. Things slowly started to improve after that. The anger seeped out of Bill and Bev’s acting, first, and then out of their time at rehearsal, and finally it dissipated altogether. Lunch was suddenly a much more comfortable and inclusive experience. Ben in particular was smiling more than Eddie had ever seen him smile before in his life.

The only downside to the reconciliation was that it meant that Eddie and Richie’s not-relationship was back to being the group’s Big Shitty Feelings Thing. Bev specifically would not shut up about it, and so Eddie was forced to rehash every single Richie encounter to her in horrifying detail. He wasn’t really sure why she wanted to know, but he indulged her anyway (because he felt like he had to…definitely NOT because he enjoyed it at all in any way, shape, or form).

“He keeps leaning up against me at the lunch table.” Eddie and Bev had set up a little arrangement of chairs in a corner backstage for themselves during the weekend of the fall play, and when Bev wasn’t on stage, that space was their new gossip headquarters. ��One of these days, I’m just going to fall over and die, I swear to God.”

“I was thinking, actually,” she said, picking at her manicure.

“Dangerous,” Eddie replied, arching an eyebrow.

“Definitely.” She looked over at him and smirked. “What about the cast party?”

Eddie stared back. “What about the cast party?”

“That’s when you should make your move,” she said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Was it the simplest thing in the world…?

His responsibilities to the fall play would be over, so he wouldn’t have to worry about professionalism, he’d be surrounded by friends, so he wouldn’t have to worry about comfort, and as for courage…

“Your Aunt is hosting, right? Will there be substances?”

“Wine and beer,” she confirmed.

To his excitement and mild horror, the beginnings of a plan were already starting to form in Eddie’s mind.

“That might not be such a bad idea,” he conceded to Bev as she got up to listen for her cue. “I guess we’ll see.”

—

The plan in its finished form was simply to get absolutely blitzed and find Richie, and within his first hour of being at Bev’s, Eddie was most of the way finished with step one.

“I just really miss you, Stanny,” he slurred into his phone, slipping across the kitchen in his socks. (He’d taken his shoes off by the door like a proper houseguest.) “I wanna…you’re just such a good friend! Such a good friend. Best friend.”

“Is there a way to record phone conversations?” Stan, on the other end, was entirely sober, and apparently bitter about it. “I want to tape this one so I can play it back to you the next time you insist you’re not annoying.”

“Bev wants me to find Richie,” Eddie continued, undeterred, “but I can’t do that r’now.”

“Why?” Stan asked, without any real interest.

“No control,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes because wasn’t it obvious? “Dunno what I’d do. Might be dangerous.”

“What you’d do, huh?” Without warning, hands appeared on either side of Eddie, boxing him in against the counter island. Eddie knew exactly who it was, but he made a show of turning around anyway, all the while pretending that his heart wasn’t trying to escape his chest.

Richie was looking down at him with the most intense expression Eddie had ever seen him wear - and he’d seen Richie do basically the whole spectrum of human emotion onstage.

Boldly, Eddie reached up and balled his fist in the front of Richie’s black show t-shirt. He felt Richie’s breath hitch, and felt powerful. “You wanna find out, Rich?”

“For fuck’s sake, you two,” Eddie had dropped his phone on the counter, so Stan was yelling to get their attention, “stop dragging this out and get to it. I’m leaving.”

The phone went silent, and they were left to stare at each other. The crackling feeling from the summer was back, and it was so fucking thick that it was hard to move…

…but Richie managed to, somehow. He fastened a hand around Eddie’s left wrist and pulled him away from the counter, out of the kitchen, up the stairs…into a bedroom.

Holy shit.

Eddie was too drunk to really feel or understand the gravity of the situation, but he knew that whatever happened was about to be momentous, so as soon as Richie closed the door, he crowded his space, not wanting to miss a single second of whatever was coming next.

“Eds?” Richie whispered, somehow both tentative and desperate, and that was it for Eddie. He surged forward, grabbing the fabric around the collar of Richie’s shirt and sinking his teeth into the skin between Richie’s neck and the slope of his shoulders.

“Fuck,” Richie breathed, burying his hands in the fabric of the back of Eddie’s drama sweatshirt while Eddie worked to kiss down his neck. “Eddie Kaspbrak, holy shit, holy fucking shit.”

He pulled Eddie’s head away and moved to kiss Eddie on the lips, but Eddie dodged out of the way. (He’d seen Pretty Woman. He knew what would happen if he let himself get too emotionally invested in what they were doing. Richie was a notorious horndog, and the more Eddie concentrated on that, the easier this would be.) “What do you want, Rich?”

Richie ran his fingers down and under Eddie’s sweatshirt, digging his fingers into the flesh of Eddie’s back. “So much, sweetheart, but I don’t want to scare you.”

Eddie couldn’t help but smile at that. He took a step backwards and took stock of Richie’s wrecked expression, marveling at how different it was from the cocky, lead-actor front that Richie usually put up, and felt a warm sort of pride blooming in his chest. He’d been the one to shake up the otherwise unflappable Richie Tozier. He had that power.

More than that, he planned to exercise it - starting by slowly sinking to his knees.

Richie looked down at him, beet red, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “Dressing practice?” he joked, but he was too nervous for his words to hold any real humor.

“I want this,” Eddie said, sliding his hands up Richie’s legs slowly - more to steady himself than to be sensual, but Richie seemed affected nevertheless. “I’m not afraid.”

“Gonna dirty talk like you call light cues, huh? Short and sw–” Richie began to say, but Eddie effectively shut him up by going for the button on his pants. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Eddie, holy fuck, I…you don’t have…hhhnnn…”

Eddie ignored him in favor of unzipping his pants and pulling them down around his thighs. He huffed out a little laugh at Richie’s lucky Aquaman boxers…and earned himself a soft, high whimper from Richie.

He tore his eyes from Richie’s crotch and turned them up to Richie’s face, trying to gauge how he was doing. He was met with an expression that was equal parts lust and panic.

“Are you sure?” he asked, eyes huge in the reflection of his still-terrible glasses. “I didn’t bring you up here to–”

Eddie, drunk and confident, moved his hand up to grope at the very, very prominent outline of Richie’s dick in his boxers. It was bigger than Eddie had registered it being when he’d come in almost-contact with it backstage…or was that just the alcohol distorting things?

Anyway, he had his hand on it, which was fucking awesome and awkward and everything in between. Richie made a noise like a wounded animal and jerked his hips forward.

“Okay?” Eddie asked, head swimming. “I didn’t…I don’t know what I’m doing, really, so if it’s bad–”

“Not bad,” Richie said quickly, reaching down and burying a hand in Eddie’s hair. “Really, really not bad.”

“Good,” Eddie whispered, leaning forward to mouth over Richie’s still-clothed erection. Richie let out a stream of expletives above him, which was encouraging, so Eddie pressed a final little kiss to Richie’s confined dick and moved his hands up to the waistband of Richie’s boxers. “We never got this far backstage.”

“No, but Jesus…you don’t know how many times I’ve looked down and thought…I thought…” Richie tugged at Eddie’s hair a little bit, obviously still nervous.

“Tell me you want me,” Eddie asked, hazily recognizing Richie’s nerves. “Richie.”

“Fuck, Eds, I’m…I’ve never done this either, I don’t mean to…yes, I want you, yes, yes, yes.”

Eddie filed the ‘never done this before’ factoid away as something to bring up with him later, and pulled down Richie’s boxers in one deft tug. Richie’s dick was right there to greet him; in fact, it all but hit him in the face as it sprang free, which made Eddie laugh a little bit. Classic Richie - even his genitals were overenthusiastic.

Richie, for his part, was looking down at Eddie like Eddie had personally handed him a million dollars in cash. Eddie preened at that a little bit, and used it as encouragement to lean forward and take the tip of Richie’s dick in his mouth.

The rest of it was sort of a blur.

He remembered having as much of Richie in his mouth as he could possibly hold - practically choking - and being thankful for years of practice dry-swallowing pills. He remembered the bitter taste of skin, strong and all-consuming. He remembered Richie mumbling what Eddie assumed was nonsense above him and stroking feverishly through his hair.

It was over in less than five minutes. Eddie was too lost in the spin of the world and his mind to register Richie’s attempts to get him to come up off of his dick, so he ended up with a mouthful of jizz. That would have really freaked Sober Eddie out, but Drunk Eddie didn’t care. He found a box of tissues on the nightstand nearby, took one out, and spit.

After he was finished, Richie sat on the bed and gestured for Eddie to join him. He was flushed and sweaty and there was a huge grin on his stupid fucking face and Eddie loved him, loved him, loved him so much that he could practically already feel his heart breaking with the knowledge that this wasn’t permanent.

Against his better judgement, Eddie crossed to the bed and flopped over onto it, painfully aware of his proximity to Richie.

“Hey.” Eddie heard and felt Richie sink down beside him. “Hey. Look at me.”

Eddie picked his head up to look. Richie was peering over at him, practically close enough to kiss.

“That was fucking incredible,” he whispered, and Eddie felt his insides freeze, because wasn’t that usually a lead into ‘but let’s stay friends’ or ‘no homo’ or whatever?

Richie didn’t keep talking, though. Instead, he tried for a kiss again…and Eddie rolled over, chest clenching painfully. He couldn’t handle intimacy with Richie if it was just going to be like this. He could handle what they’d just done, but some things were…too much.

Richie pulled him back over again. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Everything’s fine.”

“Obviously not, dumbass.” He felt Richie’s hand under his jaw, and shuddered. “Jesus, Eds…are you drunk?”

Eddie opened his eyes at that, peering confusedly back up at Richie. “We’re both drunk.”

Richie looked like he was about to throw up. “No…no, I’m not, I…oh, fucking FUCK, Eddie.”

“Are you mad at me?” Eddie whispered, watching Richie’s hands moving from his lap to his hair and back again and feeling like he was somehow disconnected from what was happening in his own life.

“No, not you, never you.” Richie yanked his pants back up shakily. “Mad at myself, mad for taking advantage of you and getting my hopes up and just…fuck, Eddie.”

He was leaving. Eddie must have done something wrong, because Richie was leaving. Shit, shit, shit.

“I love you,” Eddie called weakly, feeling like it was the last weapon he had at his disposal.

Richie looked back at him from the doorway, face twisted up in hurt and grief. “No, you don’t.”

Eddie was too woozy to protest.

--- :( Tag List: @nymphadora @sun-nugget @reddieaddict @peonyromance @should-i-gay-or-should-i-go @its-stranger-than-you-think @forever-a-lonely-valentine

[lofitojii]

Toxic [VIII]

Summary: “We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man; but this would be nothing if you really liked him.” -Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice. His dark demeanor is nothing more than a mystery to you. His dark past explains the reasoning of his desired passion to completely destroy every inch of your innocence.

Warning: Angst [M]

Word Count: 4.9k

AN: This is the second to last post. The next part will be the last part of this series! I really hope you guys liked the story. :) 

Toxic Masterlist

“Holy shit,” Kyungsoo cursed, his voice soft due to the early hours of the morning. “Love? What did you say back?” You brought your knees to your chest, resting your head against your kneecaps as you help the phone close to your ear.

“I said I love him too,” you replied, still replaying the moment over and over in your head. Your heart still raced every time you thought of it.

“Well,” Kyungsoo started. “Where is he now?” You looked over at Chanyeol sleeping soundly in your bed, his lips parted slightly as he let out small snores. His hair was a mess, covering the majority of his forehead.

“He’s asleep in my bed,” you finally replied, remembering you were still on the phone with your friend. Kyungsoo was quiet, knowing you had more to say, just waiting for you to speak up. You couldn’t help but smile, admiring the boy that was a few feet away from you. “I’m in love with him, Soo.” You heard Kyungsoo shuffle around a bit in the background, is exhale signaling that he heard.

“I know you are. I still don’t like the guy, but if you’re happy, I’m happy.” You were happy, happier than ever. You never thought you would ever find someone else, never thinking that someone like Chanyeol would fall for someone like you. It was a shock to everyone, not just you. Chanyeol was different than you were, his dark demeanor contradicting your sensitive and pure attitude. It didn’t make sense, if anything it was the furthest possibility from your mind when you first met him. Yet here he was, fast asleep in your bed as you sat in the window bay in your room, admiring from a distance. “I’ll see you New Years, Right?”

“So you’re going to the party?” You raised an eyebrow, Kyungsoo’s small scoff causing you to smile at his reaction.

“I’m bringing Luna. I don’t want to be stuck at home with my parents.” You had called Kyungsoo that morning, that giddy feeling bubbling up in your stomach as you waited for him to pick up. You didn’t know who else to call, Kyungsoo being your closest friend. You would have called Lisa, but it felt weird knowing she was Chanyeol’s ex. It has been weird with her the past few months, knowing that Sehun had mentioned to you about the two's history. Lisa kept her distance, and you didn’t know if you wanted to keep it that way. “Hey Y/n, I have to go. Tell Chanyeol I said hi. And Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really happy for you.” You felt a smile creep across your face as Kyungsoo mentioned his happiness for you. You brought your phone down to your side, looking at the photo of you and Chanyeol that you had taken one morning when you woke up next to him, his sleeping face being too cute not to catch.

You looked up, seeing Chanyeol still fast asleep in your bed. You got up, walking over and placing a small kiss to his forehead before leaving him to sleep a little longer. You made your way downstairs, coming to your brother at the kitchen counter with his laptop propped up in front of him. “Been up long?” You asked, grabbing his attention. Jongdae looked up from his screen, letting out a long yawn.

“Maybe an hour. I had a video call with some company overseas,” he replied, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He closed his laptop, moving it to the side. You poured him a cup of coffee, placing it in front of him. He hummed a quiet thanks, bringing it to his lips as he took a small sip. “So, how was your night? You and Chanyeol left kind of early.”

“It was good. Just had a long day yesterday with the drive,” you shrugged, leaning against the counter.

“Y/n,” Jongdae started, taking off his glasses and setting them to the side. “I ran into Joongi last night at the party. He showed up a little after the two of you left.” You rolled your eyes as he mentioned Joongi’s name, not really wanting to hear what he had to say. You were over Joongi and his manipulative lies. The last thing you wanted to hear was that your brother was talking to him. “He told me something about Chanyeol.”

“Well don’t believe anything Joongi says. He-”

“I’m not trying to start anything,” Jongdae cut you off. “I’m just looking out for you. He told me that Chanyeol is a player? That he’s had a string of woman ever since he started school there? Sleeping with his professor? He’s been arrested a numerous amount of times for public disturbance, assaulting an officer and other students. He has a bit of a history. I’m just looking out for you and want you to be happy and I can see that Chanyeol does that, but I also want you to be careful.” You knew a small percentage of what Chanyeol had done during his time at school, every time you found more out it was hard to hear. “I can tell you didn’t know that, did you?”

“I did.” You were partially lying. You knew he was constantly getting into fights, having a bit of a reputation. You didn’t know about the professor incident, your heart aching at the thought. “Did Joongi mention why we broke up?”

“He didn’t need to. I talked to Chanyeol last night,” he replied. “I came home and he was outside in the back on the phone with someone. Told me about how Joongi had been cheating on you for a couple of months. Almost a year. I was about ready to go and beat the shit out of the guy until Chanyeol told me he already did.”

Your head began to spin, the imagine of Joongi telling you he loved you as he was constantly with other girls making you sick to your stomach.

“He doesn’t seem like the guy Joongi was telling me about,” Jongdae said quietly, getting up from his spot. “I like Chanyeol. Mom and dad like Chanyeol. I don’t know much about him but you know what they say, sometimes the good is brought out in a person when they have a reason to. You may be this guy's reason.” Jongdae was always very smart when it came to people. He majored in psychology, graduating this last year and already doing research on the human mind that was taking off. He was smart, the one person that knew you better than anyone else. Jongdae pulled you into a side hug, leaning over and kissing your temple. “Now, the real question is, how is he going to react to Auntie M’s personal questions.”

“Oh god,” you laughed, forgetting that you had your family party that evening. You were soon taking from your conversation with your brother to Chanyeol walking in, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he made his way into the kitchen. You couldn’t help but smile at his vulnerable state, walking over and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Rough night?” Jongdae asked, winking over in your direction, causing your face to burn bright red.

“Damn it, Jongdae!” You yelled going over to hit his arm. He just laughed, trying to dodge your hit but failing.

“I’ll see you two kids later. I have an appointment with a client at the office today. I’m bringing Minjee to the party tonight and I really want you to meet her.” Jongdae said his goodbyes to both you and Chanyeol, leaving you two alone in the kitchen.

“I swear I thought we were quiet,” you said, looking up at Chanyeol. He laughed, pulling you into his arms and pressing a small kiss to your swollen lips.

“You were anything but quiet last night babe.” You felt your face go red once more, thinking that no matter what Chanyeol said, you would never not feel the butterflies.

You had many questions you wanted to ask Chanyeol, so much that you felt like you didn’t know. You knew at some point, you would have to confront him. It was Christmas eve and you didn’t want to ruin the holidays by making Chanyeol upset. Instead, you were going to enjoy your time, let Chanyeol have a good Christmas with your family.

“What’s the plan for today?” Chanyeol asked, taking the coffee mug from your hand and drinking it himself.

“Well we have the day to ourselves but tonight is my family's Christmas party. I would love if you came.” Chanyeol raised an eyebrow, setting the mug down.

“Hmm now why would I go to my girlfriends family Christmas party after I met her parents and spent the night in her childhood bedroom?” Chanyeol smiled down at you, leaning in once more for a kiss, this time letting it linger a bit longer. “I’m excited to meet your family.” You knew you had fallen in love with Chanyeol, everything about him being absolutely intoxicating. But you couldn’t help but feel yourself bubble up with questions.

One question at a time you thought to yourself.

“Can I ask you a question?” you swallowed your fear, trying your best to tiptoe as best as you could.

“Ask away,” he pressed.

You took a deep breath before finally speaking. “How serious are we?” You didn’t know it was that question that you were going to ask, it just came out. Chanyeol was a bit taken back by your question as much as you were. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

“Well I love you. I love being with you,” Chanyeol started, ignoring your statement. “I’m serious about being with you.”

“Then why do you continue to keep secrets?” With what he was saying, you felt it was okay to press further with the questions. Chanyeol furrowed his eyebrows, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He didn’t answer for what felt like forever until he finally exhaled.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything. Your childhood, your family? You’re so secretive.”

“Y/n…” His voice was deep and intimidating. He was just as irritated as you were, annoyed even. You knew you were crossing a boundary, but Jongdae once said that sometimes you have to be uncomfortable with someone before you really know them.

“I just want to know you better,” you finally whispered. “We can take baby steps.” Chanyeol rubbed his hand over his face, stress evident in his actions. He took your hand into his, placing it under his shirt and over the familiar scar you had taken notice to multiple times.

“That,” he started, letting you gently rub over the rough skin. “That is from when I got into a fight with my foster dad at age 13. He was hurting my little siblings at the time and I stepped in and he attacked me.” You were in shock, the way he was so serious as he stared you dead in the eye. You didn’t want to make eye contact because you didn’t know how to react. “I had a really hard childhood and I don’t talk about it for a reason. Because when people find out, they treat me differently. I don’t need your pity Y/n. I had enough of that growing up when I was jumping from foster home to foster home. You want to take pity, take it somewhere else.” He pulled away, turning away from you as he began to fill his coffee cup up again.

You didn’t know what else to do so you came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. You pressed your lips to his shoulder blade, resting your cheek against his back. “Thank you,” you whispered, having nothing else to say. Chanyeol let out a deep sigh, turning around and wrapping his arms around you.

“Why don’t we go out to breakfast? I’m starving.” You agreed to his offer, wanting to just spend the day with Chanyeol. You knew you had more questions, and so did he, but the both of you knew it wasn’t the right time. When the time was right, he would tell you.

You and Chanyeol decided on having breakfast at a local diner that you would go to after every football game in high school. You remembered tagging along with Joongi and his friends, never really getting along with them but going anyways to support him.

“What’ll it be kids?” The waitress asked, coming over to your table and taking your order. She took the menus, leaving the two of you alone to enjoy your morning.

“So this party tonight. Is it formal wear like it was last night or brown ugly sweater? Maybe like a casual button up?” Chanyeol asked, bringing his coffee cup to his lips. You just laughed, shaking your head.

“Just go as you,” you replied, leaning your head against the palm of your head. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to pretend to be something you’re not.” Chanyeol mimicked your actions, having his face only inches away from you. “I’m not going to lie, if you kept your hair pink, I don’t think my uncles would let you get away with that.” Chanyeol laughed, pressing a small kiss to your nose before pulling away. As he sat there, staring out the window at the newly coated white streets, his face beaming from the glowing outside.

“Stop staring at me you dork,” Chanyeol finally laughed, catching you in the action of staring. You couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help the fact you were completely in love with Chanyeol and every little thing about him. You couldn’t help that he was the most beautiful thing that stood out to you.

“Well funny running into you two here.” The voice was all too familiar, the way it hissed from your left. You didn’t want to look over, not wanting to give him any sort of attention, not after what he told Jongdae last night. It wasn’t his to tell, and for that, you felt more than just a dislike for the man standing inches away from you.

“What the hell do you want, man?” Chanyeol sighed, looking up at Joongi in announce. “I’m getting tired of your face just popping up.”

“Not my fault you two decided to come home to where I happen to live,” Joongi smirked, his attitude spiking as he could tell he was bothering the both of you. “I’m surprised you’re still with this scum after what I heard about him. It just amazes me-”

“It’s none of your business, Joongi,” you snapped back, finally looking up from your twiddling thumbs. The last thing you wanted was to give in to his little manipulative actions but you couldn’t stay quiet any longer. “What happens between me and Chanyeol, is none of your business. What goes on in his life is, you guessed it, none of your business. You keep it up, I’m going to have to do something about it myself. So take your high and mighty shitty attitude somewhere else, like all those asses your head was up this past year. Bye now.” Your sudden outburst took not only everyone around you, but yourself, by surprise. You didn’t expect to blow up like that but it felt good to get it out in the open.

Joongi huffed, stomping away in a dramatic movement, leaving you and a very wide eyed Chanyeol. “Well at least now I know not to get on your bad side.” You were over everyone butting their two sense into yours and Chanyeol’s relationship. You get that people were nervous for you, hell you were nervous for yourself and that was stressful as is. You didn’t need everyone and their dog barking at you, telling you that he wasn’t right.

There was more to Chanyeol, more than what he was giving off. When you first met him, he was rude, didn’t care for just about anything. But while he was bickering with you and pushing people out of the way, he was acing all of his classes, helping his professors teach lessons, doing his best in school. Yes, he was slipping in the social aspect, creating a bad name, but that didn’t matter to him. He didn’t care for his social status, he only cared about whether or not he was passing school.

When you first got together with him, after that night, he really showed a different side of himself. You remember going over to his place, none of the other boys being home, just being Chanyeol. He was in his bedroom, working on an essay for one of his harder classes. He explained to you, his research, how long he had been working on it, something that even you didn’t expect. You hated the fact people kept bringing up the negative about him.

You were pulled from your thoughts when Chanyeol’s phone started to ring, pulling your attention towards his direction. He pulled it out of his pocket, rolling his eyes and setting it down on the table. You were quick to snatch it, looking at the name flash across the screen. It was Junmyeon. “Answer it.” You pressed, handing it over to him.

“No.”

“Fine.” You slid your thumb across the screen, bringing it up to your ear. “Hey Junmyeon, it’s Y/n. Chanyeol is in the bathroom right now.”

“Oh no worries,” Junmyeon replied. “How is your break going?”

“Good,” you replied. “He’s loving it here in the middle of nowhere.” Chanyeol rolled his eyes, trying to plead for you to hang up. You just ignored him, lifting your hand to stop him from asking anymore.

“Sounds like it. I’m actually glad you answered. I was wondering if you and Chanyeol would want to join us for dinner. Our treat. We live here in Seoul so we would love to pay for you two to come out here when you get the chance. Don’t tell him about it.”

“I would love that,” you tried to hide it away from Chanyeol. “I will send you my number and we will go from there.”

“He’s back isn’t he?” You heard Junmyeon laugh on the other end. “Okay. We will talk again soon. Happy Holiday’s Y/n. And tell my dumb brother I said hello.” You hung up, handing your phone back over to Chanyeol who had a confused look on his face.

“He just said he misses you and wanted to get ahold of my dad for some school stuff,” you tried to play off, knowing that Chanyeol would easily call your bluff. Chanyeol just shrugged, not wanting to go on anymore about the small conversation you had with Junmyeon. Instead, he said something different.

“If he wants us to visit, I’ll set something up so we can do that.”

“Wait, really?” Chanyeol leaned back in his seat, propping his elbows up along the back of his booth.

“You brought me here to meet your family. I want you to meet mine. Well, my brothers. He’s married and has one little girl whom I just adore. I think you’d really like his family.” You were excited that Chanyeol was stepping out of his comfort zone with you, agreeing to go with you to your family party then inviting you to meet his? It was a small gesture, something you shouldn’t be so excited about, but you were. This was big for him, for the both of you.

After breakfast, you headed back to your place to get ready for the family party your parents were throwing. Chanyeol had helped your mother with some light cooking, making just about everything but dessert. You and Jongdae helped your father decorate the living room area, hanging up lights, small decorations just to make the place a little more homey. After you had finished, your mother rushed in, placing a plate of cookies on the coffee table. “Okay go get ready you two. Family will be here soon.”

You walked up the stairs, coming to Chanyeol’s open door, him pacing back and forth in his room. You walked over, slowly opening as you tried not to scare him. “Is everything okay?” He looked up, running a hand through his hair as he slipped his phone back into his pocket.

“Everything’s fine. I have to go do something.” He began to put on his jacket, rushing around the small room, in search of his keys. You were confused as to why he was in a hurry, his actions causing you to be a bit worried as to why he was so upset. He stopped in front of you, looking down at your furrowed eyebrows. He lifted your chin, leaning down and pressing a small kiss to your lips. “I’ll be back really soon. I just have to go take care of something.”

“Chanyeol,” you called out, grabbing his attention before he could walk down the stairs. He turned around, looking at you with his big doe eyes. “I love you.” He couldn’t help but smile, walking over and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too.” And with that, he walked down the steps and out of the house. You walked over towards the hallway window, watching him pull out of the driveway in his car, driving off down the road.

“Where is he going?” Jongdae asked, looking over your shoulder. You shrugged, crossing your arms over your chest. You had an uneasy feeling about what he was doing. He didn’t even give you a chance to ask what he was doing. He was so fast to quickly move past you, trying his best to avoid any conversation. You didn’t know when he was going to be back but you could only pray he was staying out of trouble.

Your family had arrived, aunts and uncles filling the living room, your grandmother on your mom's side going over how you used to spend Christmas with her when your parents were working. You loved it when your family came over, being able to catch up with them. You felt like you would have had a better time if Chanyeol was there, but he still hadn’t returned. It had been a couple of hours now.

“Where’s Chanyeol?” Jongdae finally asked, looking around the small living room with you. “Everyone was looking forward to meeting him.” You were about to reply when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, slipping it out and looking at the unknown number. You excused yourself from Jongdae, answering the call regardless of not knowing who it was.

“Hello?” you asked, awaiting a response.

“Y/n,” you heard his voice said. “It’s Junmyeon. Chanyeol’s been arrested.”

“What?” You felt your heart just break, the words echoing through your head. “What happened? Where are you?”

“I’m down at the police station. They called me a little over an hour ago and I just got here. Can you come down? I’ll explain more once you get here.” You agreed, quickly hanging up and pulling Jongdae aside.

“I have to go down to the police station. Can I borrow your car?” Jongdae didn’t question your request. Instead, he handed you his keys, giving you a concerned look. “I’ll let you know what happens.” You rushed out of the house, hopping into Jongdae’s car and racing off towards the police station.

Your mind was racing with what could have happened. Was he okay? Did something happen to him? You were nervous, the pit in your stomach growing as you tried to hold back any threatening tears. You didn’t know what to expect, not wanting to think of the worst just quite yet.

You arrived, seeing Junmyeon sitting in a chair closest to the door. He was quick to spot you, getting up as soon as he saw you walking towards him. “What happened?” You asked, entering the building. Junmyeon pulled you into a hug before sitting you down. As Junmyeon rubbed his legs, you could tell he was nervous.

“Chanyeol,” Junmyeon started. “Chanyeol beat the shit out of Joongi. Joongi is in the hospital with a broken rib and hasn’t woken up.” Your body was numb, not really knowing what to feel anymore. You were confused, light headed at the thought of Joongi in the hospital. “If he doesn’t wake up Y/n…. Chanyeol could get life in prison.”

“W-Why? Wh-What happened-d?” You could feel your body just shutter as the words escaped your mouth.

“Chanyeol was meeting someone, I don’t know who exactly, but he was upset about it. Went to the local bar and drank himself to a point where just about anything could set him off and Joongi was there. One thing lead to the next and I get a call from the police station. You know how Chanyeol get’s when he’s drunk, he’s a ticking time bomb.” You felt as if you were no longer on earth, feeling like the whole place was fleeting beneath you. Your body felt heavy, your head still in the clouds as you tried to wrap the idea of Chanyeol being in jail.

“Hey,” the cop grabbed your attention, your eyes following to the boy who was still handcuffed. “The man he hit woke up, isn’t pressing charges. Since the other guy threw the first hit, Mr. Park here is free to go.” He unlocked the silver cuffs, letting Chanyeol walk in front of him. He was no longer drunk, just looking like he had taken a beating from hell. Junmyeon got to his feet, guiding Chanyeol out the door, letting you follow behind.

“Hey Junmyeon? Will you give me and him a second?” You whispered, Junmyeon agreeing as he walked back inside to fill out some paperwork. Chanyeol leaned against his brothers car, letting his head fall back so he was looking at the sky. “So what? You have nothing to say for yourself?” He didn’t reply. “What happened?”

“He wouldn’t shut up about you,” Chanyeol whispered. “I can’t let him walk around like that thinking it’s okay.”

“What he says doesn’t affect me anymore, Chanyeol. You can’t go around starting fights like that.” Chanyeol lowered his head, the look of defeat vivid in his line of sight.

“I was just trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need your protection.” You felt the space around you tighten up as you choked back tears. Chanyeol lifted his head, looking at you dead in the eye. You wanted to look away, to just let this be over with, but you couldn’t. You also couldn’t look past the face he had nearly killed your ex-boyfriend, the way he lost his anger. “You should go home with Junmyeon tonight.” Chanyeol was silent, his head hanging low as he focused on the ground in front of him. He didn’t argue, didn’t protest.

“I’ll make sure he gets the rest he needs. Thank you Y/n,” Junmyeon said, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving it a small squeeze. You gave him a small smile, thanking him. “You should go home and get some rest. I’ll text you when we make it back to my place.”

“Thank you Junmyeon.” Chanyeol had yet to look up at you, his posture being limp as Junmyeon helped him around the car to the other side. You felt as if you wanted to cry, but couldn’t. You choked on your own words, walking back to your brother's car. It was silent, sitting there in the parking lot of the small police station. You watched the snow gently hit the windshield, building up for you had yet to start up the car.

You didn’t know how you were feeling, your body being numb. When you finally started the car, the snow had already made a coat on the ground, covering up the exposed roads and sidewalks. The drive home was quiet, listening to the way the car drove through the wet puddles, the heat blaring against your sensitive skin.

You pulled into the driveway, putting the car in park. That’s when you could feel yourself losing control. You let the tears fall, the pain beginning to grow as the image of Chanyeol flashed through your mind. He was so defeated, knowing that he had upset you. He had been trying so hard to be better and you felt like it was all washed away tonight, going back to day one with him. It hurt you, it hurt knowing that he had snapped and you couldn’t be there to help him.

You walked inside your house, Jongdae sitting in the living room. He peered over his shoulder, seeing you make your way inside. You took a seat next to him, resting your head against his shoulder. Jongdae didn’t say anything, he just let you rest your head against him, knowing that you weren’t okay without having to say anything. You could feel your eyes get heavy as you stared at the blank TV in front of you. Your eyes were swollen, making it hard to really keep them open but you knew it would be almost impossible to fall asleep.

Jongdae let out a deep sigh, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he hugged you close to him. “It’s what he needs right now. He will be okay eventually, but he needs this and so do you.” Jongdae was more than right, but you didn’t want him to be. What you wanted was to be with Chanyeol, cuddled up to him in his bed that you happened to miss so much. You wanted things to be okay, to be perfect. But they weren't going to be, and it was hard to come to terms with.

This is what’s best for him, you thought to yourself. For us.

[kingtittykhamen-blog]

All I Need CH 1

Set November after the girls go off to college. Ali is still in school, making up for her absence, and the girls are all coming home for their thanksgiving break from school. _______________________________________ The big white house looked almost uninhibited. Not a sound could be heard from outside, and not a soul seemed to pass by the Windows. The two DiLaurentis children, now adults, were bound to their rooms. Jason was staying at home for thanksgiving which was only three days away. Their father was away at work, or God knows wherever. The family seldom interacted anymore, aside from a few family dinners. It didn’t bother Jason, as much as it did the youngest DiLaurentis child, but this year she had vowed to become more independent. Alison was sprawled on her bed, French textbook open but being ignored as she sifted through Instagram posts and wasted time on the various apps on her iPhone.

School was let out early due to the holiday, and rather than worrying about the physics test she just likely failed, Alison’s mind was elsewhere.

What was really looming of her was that the girls would be returning home after their first college thanksgiving break. Alison already knew that Spencer was home. The girl had stopped over briefly to say hello, catching her as she pulled into her driveway and the two had made plans to grab coffee before the week ended. The blonde couldn’t help but feel some joy at how far the two neighbors had come. Spencer felt like a sister to her, and after the ‘A’ drama had died, they were closer than ever.

Aria had also gotten home earlier this week, and texted Alison asking her availability for the duration of her break. She had always a good friend to the blonde as well. They texted frequently, and called every other week or so.

Her and Hannah on the other hand didn’t talk much aside from the occasional Facebook comment or in the group chat with the others. Alison had often wondered if things would be different between them, had she not been so cruel to her in the beginning of their friendship. Sure it was all in the past, but it felt like there would always be a comfort zone between her and the other blonde that neither of them dared to step out of.

After scrolling through Instagram for what felt like the thousandth time, Alison found herself clicking back to the messenger app. In the search bar she typed in the name of the friend who had been on her mind since she and all of the others had left. She had been dancing around texting the fourth girl in their group all day, and was getting impatient in hoping the brunette would make the first move.

“She was always the hardest one to leave behind,” but that day in summer when they all said their goodbyes made Alison feel left behind herself. And it sucked. As the days rode their course, Alison found herself wishing that her best friend could’ve stayed in Rosewood with her. It was completely selfish, and she knew it, but was it so wrong to miss her, and want her close? California sounded amazing, but did she have to choose a place that was so far away?

The blonde had realized a long time ago that for some reason, when it came to Emily, all of her insecurities seemed to surface. She couldn’t help but feel pathetic about always being the one to text first, or make the call. It felt like a bit of a role reversal. She had never been the one to make the most effort in their relationship.

It wasn’t even that Emily didn’t respond to her, once Alison would send that first text they would talk for hours. Emily would apologize for being busy, and Alison would remind her that there was no reason for it. She knew that Emily had a lot to juggle. It was her freshman year of college, and she was still adjusting to an “A” free life. Emily didn’t need to prioritize talking to Alison, she had more important things to do.

But then there were her insecurities, making her feel like she was being abandoned, forgotten. There would be times where they would go days without talking, and Alison would wait for Emily to send at least a hi, but for the most part she never did. The blonde would spend those days looking back at their old messages, smiling at Emily’s unintentional goofiness but all the while feeling melancholy. 'Am I that easy to forget?’

She let out a sigh. If Emily wasn’t gonna text her when she was coming home, then Alison had to. As needy as it made her feel. It was only Tuesday morning, but Emily was supposed to be off from school yesterday.

Swallowing her pride she types out a message. “Hey :) when r u getting home ?” Her mood immediately turned from annoyed to happy when she immediately saw the grey bubble indicating that Emily is typing. “At the airport now!! Boarding soon- Will b home around 5 (ur time)” A smile spread across Alison’s face and her fingers immediately started typing a response before her brain could think up one. “yay!! Any chance u can come by tonight?” She sent. She swallowed when she realized that she sent it before she could look it over. Was it too desperate sounding?? She quickly added “if ur not too tired ofc” “My mom and I are gonna have dinner after she picks me up from the airport, but I don’t c y I can’t meet u after :)” Alison felt as if her whole body had lit up with joy. Emily always sent little smiley faces that brightened her day. Now she would be seeing her smile in person. Something she had missed terribly. “Cool ! Just let me know :)” she replied, adding “safe flight <3” Emily responded with a “thanks <33” and Alison felt her cheeks go hot. After 4 months she was finally going to see her favorite person, and it filled her heart with warmth. It wasn’t the same feeling with the other girls, and the soft spot she had for Emily was hard to explain. She didn’t even fully know herself what made the girl so special. Rather than thinking about it, Ali chose to ignore it, and get back to her homework. Thinking about feelings felt more like a waste of time than anything.

After it was confirmed that she would be seeing the brunette, it was as if time had completely slowed down. Finally it was around 8 o'clock and she had received a text from Emily telling her that she just showered and would be over shortly. Alison stood in front of the mirror, practically counting down the minutes until the brunette arrived. She would never say it out loud, but having the girls all home again gave her life some interest. It had been quite boring without them. Their dynamic, though dramatic at times never failed to keep her entertained. Even though she liked to think she had matured since her days of being a queen bee, the mentality was certainly still in her. The students of Rosewood high were easier subjects to rule. She was older than the people in her class, and her story of running away, returning, and even being in jail captivated her peers. They even seemed to interest the whole town. People loved listening to her stories, and she obviously loved the attention. But her old group was a challenge. They were in the “A” mess alongside her, and by the end of it all it was safe to say they had a a bit of a rocky history. They had certainly been a challenging group, but there was nothing Alison DiLaurentis loved more than a challenge.

She smiled at her reflection. Her blonde hair was pinned out of her face, and curled perfectly. She always liked to look her best in front of the girls, especially Emily. She blamed it on the past, where it was so ingrained in her that she had to be superior. To convey the image of perfection. However, with Emily, it was different. She had always looked at Alison like she was art, with a great deal admiration. She never wanted her to stop looking at her like that.

“Going somewhere” Jason said popping his head in her room, gulping on a Sprite. It was the first time the blonde had seen him all day. “No, why ?” She responded, applying some mascara. “Well it’s past your bedtime and you’re not in your pajamas” He teased walking into the room and taking another swig of his sugary drink. Alison rolled her eyes. “Very funny” “Are you gonna answer my question?” She sighed. “No, I’m not going out, but Emily’s coming over.” She watched Jason’s eyes widen through his reflection in the mirror. “Oh!” He exclaimed, a smirk forming on his face. “Getting dolled up for your love?” Alison shot him a glare. “Don’t be gross Jason. We’re friends.” She said defensively. She looked back to herself. Her cheeks had turned a a dark red hue. This wasn’t the first time her brother had teased her about the nature of her relationship with Emily. It was a touchy subject for her and he knew it.

Her mind shot back to the times things with Emily were, well, more then friendly. Their first kiss in the library, Alison had let her guard down and let the moment take hold of her. But that was all. Then the barn after Alison had saved her. It was because she missed her. It was a gesture of love, for her friend of course. Her eyes dragged to the bed behind there. Oh, there was also the one night they had shared after she had returned to rosewood.

They had never talked about it. As a matter of fact they had both seemed to act as if it had never happened. It was just like any one night stand, Ali would tell herself. Things were different then.

The memory still lingered in Alison’s mind though. It was a memory that stuck in her head, and she couldn’t get rid of it. And of course it was one that she tried countless times to rationalize. Her and Emily had a deep emotional connection, that ignited what had transpired that night. But she couldn’t quite figure out if it was a definite sexual attraction. She likes boys, she’s only ever been into boys that way. She thought. Emily was Emily, but she liked boys.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock at the door, that snapped her out of her thoughts. “She’s here!” She said, unable to hide her excitement. “And, that’s my cue!” Jason responded. As he began to exit Ali’s room, the blonde almost knocked him down as she ran past him.

Alison took a deep breath, regaining her nonchalant stature. She opened the door with a confident but happy smile plastered on her face. But when her eyes met the person behind the door her jaw nearly dropped. It was Emily, but seeing her now make Alison realize just how longs it’s been since they’ve been face to face. Surely it wasn’t the longest period they’ve spent apart, but for some reason seeing her this close made her realize just how much she’d missed her. As if she hadn’t been aware of it before.

Emily had changed a little, her hair was dark again, her natural color. It reminded Ali of when they first met. The girl had appeared to have lost a little weight too. She wore a grey long sleeve shirt, and black skinny jeans.

Alison felt as if she forgot how to breathe. The brunette in front of her was practically glowing. Emily had always been pretty, extremely pretty. But the Emily in front of her was gorgeous, and hot, and standing so confidently. It was Emily like Alison had never seen her before.

“Alison, hi!!” Emily finally said with joy radiating off of her voice. Alison blinked twice, still in awe of the other girl.

'Wait, what the hell am I doing ?’ She thought, angry with herself for standing in front of her best friend dumbly.

With a quick shake of her head she smiled widely. “Em! H-how are you?” She said. She wanted to slam her head on the door as she heard the words leave her mouth. 'Did I just stutter?’

Emily laughed, not appearing to have noticed Ali’s small slip up. “I’m great! I-wow!” Taking The blonde by surprise, Emily stepped forward and pulled her into a warm embrace. “It’s so great to see you!”

Alison felt her skin burn against Emily’s touch. She hugged the brunette back lightly, as if she would disappear at the slightest touch. “It’s great to see you too!” Emily pulled away to look at Alison’s face with the same warmth in her eyes.

“You look great, as always.” She said caressing Alison’s shoulders.

“I look great?? You look, amazing!” Emily blushed slightly, making her look impossibly more beautiful and Alison, who would usually never be so eager to compliment someone couldn’t tear her eyes away. The two of them stood there for a few seconds just looking at each other.

Alison’s mind was unable to focus on anything but Emily, and she began to panic at her lack of control. She tore her eyes away from Emily’s brown ones and cleared her throat in attempts to regain composure. “Well, um, do you want to come in?” She said somewhat shyly. Emily nodded.

“I would love to!” She chuckled. Alison moved to the side, letting the girl walk past her and shutting the door behind her. She took a breath and followed her inside, smiling as she watched Emily saunter into her house as if she was right at home.

To Alison, having Emily back home made her feel more at home then she had felt in months. The quiet house suddenly felt alive the minute Emily stepped inside. God she didn’t know how to describe what she was feeling, she just knew she was happy to see her friend again.

“I missed the smell of your house” Emily sighed. She twirled to face the blonde, inhaling goofily and causing Alison to let out a chuckle. The brunette stretched her arms upwards. “Man I’m spent.”

Alison couldn’t help but let her eyes roam Emily’s toned body as she stretched her arms above her head, exposing her tan abs. Then her eyes darted to some black ink on the girls hip. The blonde’s eyes widened in confusion and shock. In cursive the name “Andrea” was ingrained in Emily’s skin. In permanent ink.

The girl, not noticing the distraught look on Alison’s face, turned back around and she began to walk in the direction of the DiLaurentis’ kitchen. “Can I grab a glass of water? I still feel kinda dehydrated from that flight.”

“Yea Em.” Ali answered, just above a mumble. If her thoughts weren’t already running amuck through her head, they certainly were now. Without saying another word, she followed her best friend into the kitchen.