#but living with people who spend every waking hour making you miserable takes a bit of a toll on your empathy towards them

[seven7een7h]

One of my toxic traits—and I am aware that I have a good number— is that if I go into my room and close the door, I believe that it should be illegal to bother me for anything that isn’t food or an emergency, and if I’m in my room with the door closed and the lights off, the house better be on fucking fire, but no one else seems to believe this.

Like please, sound is making me angry, I have the overwhelming urge to cry and my own skin feels wrong, no I’m not helping you order yourself a pizza, I’m about to kill someone.

And this is of course ALWAYS the exact time when my grandmother—who to the inconvenience of everyone, refuses to wear her hearing aid or acknowledge that her actions are loud (when she closes a door in the house, everything on the walls shakes)—decides to empty and reload the dishwasher and what I can only assume is to rearrange the cabinet with all the metal pots and pans.

Today, my mother and I have spent the 4th day in a row doing hurricane cleanup, and I spent 2 hours on the roof in open Florida sun, cleaning out the gutters and checking for damage, while she sat outside reading her book and scrolling on her phone (which, whatever, she can’t really help with anything useful anyway), but the second my mum and I go to turn in for an early night, she needs me to perform tasks for her (that I know she can do on her own) and making loads of noise.

Needless to say, I am upset. It is difficult to be kind to people and to understand that they have limitations, when those people, as she is very much known to do, throw your own limitations back in your face because your age isn’t justifiably high. I am finding it increasingly hard to want to be anywhere near her, I don’t even like being in the same building sometimes.

[tarosin]

the great adventures of y/n tommy tubbo ranboo & others are mentioned - tommy won’t go home

this is part 14 to the great adventures series

an: I tried, days are a social construction on the tarosin blog… also i’m back baby <3

from the moment you were forced awake by tubbo streaming with ranboo, Tommy began sending several messages as in his own words you ‘weren’t answering him quick enough’, probably because you had only just woken up and had no idea what day or time it was.

Tommy: y/n

Tommy: y/n were going out soon I've decided so answer me

Tommy: y/n wake up

y/n: heh? I’m going nowhere I’m tired

Tommy: I’m sending you a ticket make sure you meet me there

it was around now you had the feeling you were going to be stuck with Tommy for a while and you had no idea what to expect. an hour later tubbo stopped streaming so you took this as an opportunity to say your goodbyes to tubbo and ranboo explaining you had no idea what was happening as Tommy refused to explain but you’d probably be back later so they don’t lock you outside like last time

“don’t smirk at me ranboo just because you’re tall doesn’t mean I can’t take you down”

“mhm sure yep”

“y/n you’re going to be late we’ll see you later”

soon enough you were with Tommy who finally decided to inform you of what was happening

“we’re going to go annoy George”

“great idea Tommy let’s go”

the pair of you stood at the door waiting for George to answer, the look on George's face is something you’ll never forget.

“Hello Tommy, is that y/n what are you doing here”

“Nice to see you too… the fuck”

a few minutes later you and Tommy were sat next to George when you found a rubber duck and started making it squeak annoying the others well that was until Tommy took it and started doing the exact same thing you were doing

“I now understand why you looked pissed George”

during the stream, you were sat in between the pair George looked at you and you nodded. a few seconds later George threw the rubber duck hitting Tommy, the pair of you left not long after that event and made your way to the hotel after calling tubbo to explain what was happening.

the next day you and Tommy met up with tubbo ranboo and George at a shopping centre where you were all almost immediately met with several people asking for photos and the chance to talk to you all, you hid behind ranboo until the crowd grew smaller. it didn’t take long for everyone to notice the piano before you had time to process what just happened tubbo ran to the piano dragging you with him accidentally pushing ranboo in the process

“SORRY RANBOO”

the pair of you began playing the piano Tommy joining shortly after. time flew by the five of you spent the rest of your time shopping and just enjoying each other’s company, before you knew it, it was time to get the train. you laughed at tubbo falling asleep on the window however karma quickly caught up as you ended up falling asleep on ranboos shoulder ranboo laughed quietly to himself not wanting to wake up you or tubbo

“I swear its always y/n and tubbo who fall asleep”

“its been a long day y/n couldn’t sleep in the hotel they kept mentioning something about ghosts I don’t know man they must have been watching too many horror films”

“mhm probably”

soon enough you were with the others, minx quickly pulled you into a hug

“Nice tattoo”

“I did it for money it was a sub-goal”

you and tubbo stood with Tommy looking at the ferret

“why’s it so long”

“tubbo does it look like I study zoology I play Minecraft for a living”

the next day you were at the beach, having only had a few hours of sleep the previous night it was safe to say you weren’t in the best mood, you sat next to ranboo occasionally falling in and out of sleep, ranboo kept an arm around you pulling you into his side making sure you were safe and didn’t hit your head on the rocks when you fell asleep. you were woken up by tubbo walking on something which he clearly shouldn’t be. eventually, you all made it back to tubbos house, Tommy and tubbo were in the kitchen while ranboo practised for mcc and you were asleep in the room you had been sharing with ranboo whilst he’s in the Uk.

the next day you all went out on another adventure, at this point you had no idea what was happening but you just went with it. you and Tommy chased a bird telling him about the subscribe button and giving him the name ‘funny boy’

“Why does that bird look just extremely anxious”

“because we’re too cool ranboo”

“maybe we should give him another name than funny boy”

“Charles”

it was at this point you all decided to leave poor Charles alone as it was pretty clear he wanted nothing to do with you.

the three of you made your way to the train station forgetting that the school students would be there, a few minutes later the three of you were swarmed by several students all trying to talk to you all.

“I think we might have got on when the schools are here”

“so thankful you pointed that out boo I thought we were being mobbed by several people cosplaying as school students”

“hi everyone hopefully no one has covid”

you backed away from the crowd moving closer to ranboo

“I bet tubbos really glad he chose not to come”

you tried to avoid the crowd by getting on the train, this failed miserably. people were excited to meet the people they look up to they were all determined to sit with you all on the train taking up the seats around you all, the three of you spent a lot of the train ride talking to them, unlike ranboo and Tommy you ignored the comments aimed at the three of you not wanting to get involved after all it was rather overwhelming so many people talking loudly at once, you ended up moving seats and had a quiet conversation with someone from your community, around half an hour later you were at your destination and said goodbye before joining Tommy and ranboo at wills. the three of you sat on the floor listening to will and the others practice. it’s pretty clear Tommy has a habit of finding things as you turned around to see him with a puppet of a shark pretending to bite you

“Tommy what are you doing”

“bye y/n scream it’s going to get you”

“ah”

realising you weren’t going to scream he began telling joe, Wilbur and David to scream.

after spending time with the others and having a quick trip to the beach you Tommy and ranboo ended up at the shop recording the three of you on the security camera

“If you take a picture from there 50p”

you looked at ranboo tilting your head in confusion even though he was wearing a mask and sunglasses he was clearly equally as confused, he pulled you into his side noticing you were clearly starting to get anxious, you hated confrontation even though it turned out to be a joke it still shook you up a little bit

“I'm only joking my friend…but I did get them”

“you did we took it serious”

“aye you did”

the three of you walked away Tommy still laughing

“he scared me”

after a long day, you all went back to tubbos, you and ranboo decided to end the night early, the pair of you made your way to the shared room. you both spent a few minutes talking about mcc and how you were both going to win and coming up with new strategies. you must have fallen asleep mid-conversation as you didn’t remember seeing Tommy come into the room last night yet you were woken up by him complaining that ranboo playing mcc woke him up.

after getting ready you sat planning an adventure with tubbo

“So where do you wanna go bo”

“We should do something really cool”

“l hope you know that wasn’t helpful”

“pumpkin patch”

“it’s summer where do you think we’re going to find pumpkins…wait tubbo in October I’m taking you to a pumpkin patch it’ll be great we hardly spend time together as a pair near Halloween”

“I promise this year we’ll spend more time together”

your conversation was interrupted by Tommy and ranboo announcing they were ready to go to the beach again. once there tubbo sat arguing with Tommy and ranboo over them needing a life jacket. meanwhile, you had walked away collecting pretty rocks and sea glass putting them in the velvet blue bag covered in embroidered gold stars that dream had sent you as a thank you for the merch you sent him not long ago, you walked along the beach quietly talking to yourself

“ooh jack would like that and I could turn this into a ring for Niki…techno would like this and this would annoy schlatt it's perfect”

you laughed to yourself as you made your way back to the others thinking about schlatts reaction when he sees his gift. when you made your way back you watched Tommy swim over to tubbo leaving ranboo on his own probably waiting for you to return

“did you get any nice rocks then y/n you were out for a while”

“I did. come sit over there with me I’ll show you”

the pair of you sat next to each other away from the sea, ranboo matched your excitement every time you picked the rock you wanted to show him

“you’ve been collecting more than rocks? what’s that”

“I have !! you wanna see?”

“of course I do”

this was a moment neither of you would forget, the pair of you sat enjoying each others company looking at rocks and sea glass you had found on the beach ignoring the world.

taglist:

@denkisclown @emma0nline @fuzzycloudsz @wtfwriter @milkydisaster @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @augustine-is-joy @c1loudee @orkwardx0 @bearytime @kylobensgirl

[spencers-renaissance]

I turn and reach for you

Summary: Three months after Hankel, Spencer starts getting terrible nightmares that keep him up at night. He tries desperately to keep his secret until one day when it's all too much to bear anymore. Luckily, Derek Morgan is there to hold him together as he falls apart.

Tags: nightmares, hurt/comfort, ptsd, angst with a happy ending, fluff, literal sleeping together, getting together, post-revelations TW: past non-con drug use mentioned once in passing

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

This feels the "Nightmares" square on my Bad Things Happen bingo card, and was written for this prompt by @i-write-whump. Title from a poem by Devon Strang.

After Spencer is kidnapped by Tobias Hankel, he stays with Derek. Nobody on the team wants him to be alone, and he’s always felt the most comfortable with him, so it makes sense. Besides, he’s got the space.

Spencer sometimes wonders whether the team pushed so hard for it because they genuinely believed that, logistically, Derek was the best option, or because they could also see the slow-burning romance simmering under the surface of their relationship. They’ve always had a special friendship, but Spencer can feel the growing tension: the deep and intense looks they share mid-case, the lingering touches on backs and arms, the affection leaking into each ‘pretty boy’ and every ‘Der’.

Perhaps if Hankel never came into the picture they’d already be together — it really had felt like they were on the precipice of something special — but it’s three months later and Spencer’s still sleeping in the spare room; there’s still just as much will they, won’t they lingering in the air between them.

He tries not to mind too much. After all, he’s never had so much free access to the man he’s pined after for years now, and they’re living in each other’s pockets. Almost every waking hour is spent in one another’s company: they cook together, eat together, watch films together, and neither of them are showing any sign of getting sick of it. But every time they’re cooking pasta and Derek says something ridiculous, Spencer wishes he was allowed to lean in and kiss the tip of his nose; every time they sit down to watch something together, he wishes he could burrow into his side and rest his head in the crook of his neck.

(Sometimes, Spencer wishes he could rewind to the weeks immediately after the Hankel incident when Derek would carry him around the flat to keep him off his broken feet; when he could press his face into his shoulder and inhale the scent of complete and utter safety.)

It’s almost torturous, being so close yet so far.

He isn’t quite sure why the nightmares start so late. The nights during the first couple of months are blissfully dreamless, so exhausted from the physical and emotional trauma that sleep was a tantalising escape, but once he’s back in the field, once normal life resumes, everything changes.

The first time he wakes up sweating and panting, heart pounding as he tries to convince himself that he’s no longer in Hankel’s clutches but is safe and sound in Derek’s apartment, he dismisses it as a one-off. He hasn’t had nightmares yet, so why should they start now? He doesn’t go back to sleep that night, too shaken to relax back into the comforting embrace of sleep, too afraid of deception: that he wouldn’t sleep dreamlessly but that the nightmare would be waiting for him once again.

The second time worries him. He gets up this time and gets a glass of water as quietly as possible, leaning with his back against the kitchen counter as he ponders what this could mean for him. The thing is, they’re so incredibly vivid. It really feels like he’s back at the mercy of a three-in-one torturer armed with drugs and belts and guns, genuinely unsure of whether he’ll ever see his family again. He doesn’t go back to sleep this time, either, instead pacing around the living room until Derek wakes up. He lies that he’s only been up for half an hour, and Derek believes him.

The third time solidifies for Spencer the fact that this is a problem. Three is a pattern, everybody knows that, and Spencer spends the rest of the night scouring the internet for studies conducted around delayed trauma responses and discovers the prevalence of delayed-onset PTSD. He’s tempted to contact a professor he met during his third PhD who specialised in the psychology of trauma, but he thinks better of it. Admitting these nightmares would be admitting defeat.

This is something he has to deal with alone.

(He ignores the truth that it’s more fear than anything else that keeps him from telling anyone: fear of being seen as weak, fear of nothing changing, fear of voicing his trauma out loud. It’s easier to pretend it’s about independent agency.)

It doesn’t affect him too much at first. Sure, he’s scared to go to sleep and he sweats so profusely that it soaks through his bedsheets almost every night, but he’s managing. He’s okay. He contributes just as much to their profiles and takes down unsubs without flinching. He dances around Derek like they have done for over a year, and he sits through Dr Who marathons with Penelope just fine. So what if he’s a bit tired? He’s stared down some of America’s Most Wanted and interviewed famous serial killers, he can cope with a little fatigue.

It doesn’t stay that easy for long.

Soon everybody’s asking about the bags under his eyes, his slower reaction times when they visit the gun range, his twitchiness around the team.

“Are you sleeping okay, Spencer?” Penelope asks him one day, brushing a curly lock of hair behind his ears as they sit side by side on the sofa next to a conked out Derek.

He can’t nod his head quick enough. “Yeah! Yes, uh. Yes, Penelope, I’m sleeping fine, I promise,” he says as convincingly as he can, flashing her a smile. He hates lying to her, but he can’t let anyone find out, he just can’t.

Slowly, he begins losing his grip on reality. He’s almost delusional from the sleep deprivation, and he starts seeing Hankel everywhere he goes. He’s stood behind the fridge door, in the foyer of the FBI Headquarters, in the toilets of a local police station, stood right behind the unsub they’re currently trying to talk down, goddamnit.

He’s beyond exhausted, but some nights he still refuses to sleep, too afraid of what awaits him in his dreams, too afraid of the fear he knows he’ll carry into the next day, too afraid of feeling weak again. Helpless. Completely and utterly without agency.

He sits up with his back against the headboard, the main light off but the lamp switched on, scrolling through as many scholarly articles as he can read in a night, drinking cup after cup of steaming black coffee. Most nights he makes it through till morning without sleeping a wink, but sometimes he can’t stop himself from drifting off The nightmares on those nights are the worst.

He isn’t okay and people are starting to notice. Everyone’s walking on eggshells around him right now, but he knows it won’t be long before Penelope organises an intervention that Hotch hosts and Derek directs. The worst part about it is that he feels like a trainwreck waiting to happen. He’s headed straight for complete and utter collapse, and the only possible way to stop the train in its tracks is to reach out and get help, the one thing he can’t get himself to do.

And he isn’t even really sure why.

It all comes to a head on a warm night in July. He’d fallen into bed that night deliberately, actually intending to sleep for once. The bone-deep tiredness had finally caught up to him and he didn’t even care that he was walking straight into the arms of Tobias Hankel, if it meant he got even an iota of refreshing sleep, then it would be worth it.

But he isn’t quite of the same mind when he wakes up at two in the morning like he does almost every night: soaked in sweat with his heart going a million beats per minute, with only one difference. Tonight, he’s crying.

Maybe it’s the emotional turmoil of the last few months catching up to him, or maybe it’s just the severity of this particular dream, but whatever it is, he can’t seem to stop even once he’s awake. Sobs wrack his shoulders as he cries miserably into the pillow, finally letting out the emotions he’s kept bottled up so tightly, and he’s almost wailing after a couple of minutes of anguish.

All he can think as he cries helplessly is how badly he wants Derek. He wants to be wrapped up in his strong and safe embrace, he wants to feel the movement of his soft goatee against his cheek, he wants to inhale the comforting scent of his sleep t-shirts, he wants the warmth and solace that only Derek Morgan can give him, and in that moment, emotionally distraught and so incredibly sleep-deprived, he decides to get it.

He stumbles out of his bedroom and down the hall, stopping once he reaches Derek’s door. He hesitates for only a second before he pushes it open slowly, allowing the light from the lamp they keep switched on in the hallway to gently illuminate the shadows of his bedroom.

“Spencer?” Derek asks groggily, immediately sitting up and wiping his eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

At the acknowledgement of his tears, Spencer starts to cry harder, and as embarrassed as he feels, he can’t slow the steady stream of tears rolling down his face as he stands in the doorway like a child in their parents’ room.

“Spence,” Derek says again, gentle and sympathetic, “come here.” He lifts the duvet up and scooches over slightly as if to make room for him in his already spacious king-size bed.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, though, and he stumbles forward, collapsing into bed and wrapping himself around Derek instantly. His arms come up to circle Spencer’s waist, caressing him gently as he holds him close to his body, shushing him quietly.

“It’s okay, Spence,” he murmurs. “I’m here now, alright? We’re gonna fix whatever it is, I promise you. We’ll get through this. You’ll get through this.”

He lets himself cry and cry and cry until his tears are dried up and he’s hiccupping from the force of his sobs. He would feel terrible about the damp spot left on Derek’s t-shirt, but he simply doesn’t have the energy. Instead, he continues to lie there on Derek’s chest, listening to his softly spoken assurances and losing himself in the sensation of Derek’s fingertips caressing the skin of his waist.

After a couple of minutes of silence, interrupted only by the odd hiccup from Spencer’s tired lungs, Derek finally asks the question. “What was that all about, pretty boy?” he asks with a tenderness Spencer isn’t sure he’s ever heard before. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Been having nightmares,” Spencer whispers, keeping his eyes closed against Derek’s imploring gaze.

He feels Derek tense beneath him, his fingers briefly pausing before resuming their comforting patterns on his waist, and a heavy breath escapes his lips. “For how long?”

“Last couple of months,” he mumbles, and somehow another tear manages to escape Spencer’s screwed up eyes.

“Well,” Derek sighs, “I suppose that explains a lot. We’ve been so worried about you, Spencer. We had no idea what was going on but we could all see you withdrawing, and it wasn’t exactly a secret how exhausted you were.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Derek says sadly. “I should’ve pushed harder to figure out what was going on with you. I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with this all alone.”

“I didn’t know how to tell anyone,” Spencer says, suddenly desperate to explain as he shifts slightly to look Derek in the eye. “I was so scared and I didn’t want anyone to think that I was weak or I couldn’t do my job anymore, and I just didn’t know what to do.”

“I know, Spence,” Derek says soothingly, “but you’ve told me now, haven’t you? And I’m going to do everything I can to get you some help. We’ll fix this, baby. I promise you, I’m going to make sure you’re happy and healthy again if it’s the last thing I do, okay?”

Spencer sniffs a little, wiping tiredly at his eyes as he blinks up at the sincerity on Derek’s face. For the first time in far too long he manages a smile. “Okay.”

Derek runs a hand through his hair before dropping a kiss to the top of his head. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

Spencer’s smile widens and he buries his face in Derek’s chest again as his cheeks flush red. “Please.”

Months later, they’ll realise they never officially asked one another to be in an actual, exclusive relationship. Months later, they’ll know instinctively and with absolute certainty that this night was the night that changed everything for them, and exactly one year later, they’ll celebrate their first anniversary on that date.

Tonight, though, they sleep curled up next to one another in Derek’s bed, and although Spencer doesn’t fall into the same dreamless sleep he grew used to immediately after Hankel, for once he isn’t haunted by nightmares, but dreams inflected with hope for what the future holds for them, and he’ll take that over dreamlessness any day.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @ @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds (add yourself to my taglist)

[iffylogic]

I’ve tried everything I can think of to stay positive, but I can’t keep up. I just can’t.

I’m so miserable. My life is just work, cry, sleep, repeat.

The place I work at is understaffed. The software is a nightmare.

And the clientele. Are. Horrible.

I basically spend half my waking hours getting yelled at, insulted, cussed out, glared at. Today was the new winner because this time I was cursed by proxy, hearing someone screaming at someone else at the top of their lungs, “Tell that stupid fucker [Iffy-deadname] to pay the fuck attention and” etc. Language is usually lighter, but ultimately I’m most accustomed to hearing that said to me directly.

I’m trying as hard as I can, and that’s the worst thing. I’m bad at this job. Really, really bad. And the more stressed I get, the worse at the job I get. The software and communication system we use is a backwards, impenetrable disaster.

But the worst thing is? I frequently make really stupid mistakes. I’ll completely forget a name I was given one sentence ago. I mix up numbers. I mix up faces. I mix up stories. I’ve tried to slow down, make an effort to pay attention and carefully absorb the information around me, burn it in.

Maybe it’s because I’m stressed, maybe it’s because of the rush, but I just can’t do it. I can’t get things straight. My auditory processing disorder makes it hard to process names/words I hear until the client is angrily spelling it out in a tone that oozes “you are an absolute moron Iffy.” And it’s happened so much that I can’t even disagree anymore.

It’s almost as bad when it isn’t my fault. Because frequently the client doesn’t care. The very first call of the very first day of this workweek was me being talked down to and mocked by someone whom I have never interacted with in any way. We were complete strangers. But I work for the place that’s too overworked/understaffed to cater to their every whim; I’m the one they found on the phone; I’m the one they’ll direct their rage at. Fully-grown adults—mothers, fathers, grandparents, left and right—not caring who they talk to as long as they get to hurt someone. My faith in humanity is practically in freefall.

I need to say this, it’s so important that I point this out: Many of the clients are wonderful people. And the staff are some of the kindest, most fun people you’ll meet. Hell, they’re why I leaped at the job.

But with us constantly lacking the staff to keep up with demand, people get mad. A lot of people.

I get up at 7 and come home at 7. I have two individual days off a week, and I spend most of that time in my bed. The several hours I have before bedtime for work the next day are spent either in a stupor or weeping, lately just the latter. There’s no time for the things that make me happy, the things I wanted to turn into a bigger part of my life one day. The job is cutting off the things it was supposed to give me a chance to return to.

I’ve tried so hard to stay motivated and positive. I really, really have. I’ve been focusing on the things I can finally save up for, and studying/practicing mindfulness and stress-management techniques. Going somewhere nice like the bookstore or the park for an afternoon.

I’m relieved to say that taking those days does bring me back for a bit.

But it doesn’t last. The stress-management stuff doesn’t last, not when the stress is so constant.

And it turns out the job pays a lot less than I expected.

It barely makes living expenses, if that. I can’t save up for the things I need or was looking forward to (including things important to someone in such a transitional phase of their life). And if an emergency arises, I won’t have the money to deal with it.

It took me half a year to even find this job. I don’t even... I don’t even know what to do. Am I trapped!? I’m crying for hours a day now. I spend most of my free time stressed from dreading the next shift, which is never far away. I’m so, so unhappy.

[neverdoingmuch]

Wangxian prompt: They see each other constantly. Like, maybe they're neighbors, or is a "my kid's teacher" situation. Maybe they meet at the bus stop, or work in the same company but different offices. So they're aware of each other and they exchange glances, maybe little inside-joke smiles about things they both notice. They see each other being brave, competent, kind, so so handsome. And when they actually talk to each other months later the first thing they say is "Marry me" and "Yes"

ooh!! this sounds like a lot of fun, i love it so much. i think office workers would be the best bc then we can contrast the banality of the rest of their lives to the quirkiness of their relationship so to speak.

okay so it all started when lwj decided that he wanted to eat breakfast on his apartment balcony

he takes his bowl and goes to sit in the chair outside and he’s prepared to just enjoy the cool morning air but when he looks up he sees a man sitting on the balcony exactly opposite his

wwx, by some strange luck, has the apartment across the street, and always goes outside to try and wake up bc he is not a morning person at all and the 9-5 job is killer for someone who likes to go to sleep at like three in the morning

anyway, lwj looks up and sees this kinda cute guy just sitting on the floor miserably blinking at the rising sun and is like oh weird and tries not to stare too much

but after that first time lwj sees him, he starts seeing mystery balcony dude everywhere, like everywhere and no amount of not staring is gonna save him

he goes down to his favourite cafe to get a cup of tea after breakfast and while he’s enjoying his tea and reading the newspaper he hears someone laugh loudly and glances over to the muffin display to see balcony man chatting with one of the staff as he orders his own coffee 

balcony man must have noticed his attention because he looks over and for a moment he looks confused but then he’s smiling brightly at lwj and it’s this absolutely amazing smile and he’s even hotter when he’s not sitting in a ratty t-shirt across the street and lwj panics, chugs the rest of his tea, and immediately leaves

he ends up arriving at the train station fifteen minutes early and is stuck awkwardly waiting while avoiding the grandma who likes showing men pictures of her granddaughter who is very beautiful and very single apparently

the train arrives and lwj gets on, finds a seat and pulls out his phone to respond to emails. then, just as the doors are about to shut, who should rush in but balcony man

he’s kinda sweaty and red but the guy makes it look good and he ends up sitting down a few metres from lwj, not that lwj notices because he’s very busy responding to his emails about how one of the teams in sales is having difficulties with one of their projects, so busy that he spends the next thirty minutes staring at the email unable to get past the second line

lwj and wwx end up getting off at the same stop and to lwj’s absolute horror they end up going to the same building

lwj tries to do the thing where you speedwalk past the person so they don’t think you’re following them but then wwx did the same thing to him so they end up arriving at the same time

they get in the elevator together, lwj near the door off to the left and balcony man in the far corner, leaning against the wall and looking down at his shoes

it’s kind of awkward but thankfully wwx gets off at the fifteenth floor - software design and tech support or something while lwj gets off at the twentieth floor - sales maybe?

he doesn’t see the man again until the end of the work day when they get into the elevator at the same time and go back down. they’re the only two people in there bc they’re working late or the stars aligned or something

and that’s just the first day. after that, every day the same thing happens and they keep seeing each other as they’re going to and from work. 

but also lwj goes to do the grocery shopping and when he’s paying wwx is in the next line across and when he goes to buy new strings for his guqin wwx is already in the store buying a new mouthpiece for his dizi

this goes on for a few weeks and then one morning, while wwx is trying to shock his system into waking up and lwj is just enjoying breakfast, they hear familiar shouting: the couple downstairs is breaking up again

lwj rolls his eyes, aware that come next week they’ll be dating again, and just blocks it out when the boyfriend comes stumbling out of the building with his shirt half on and the girlfriend still yelling

he looks across the street to see what balcony man thinks of it all and sees that he’s mouthing along to the argument (it really is exactly the same speech every time but it’s incredible that he’s memorised it). lwj snorts. it’s unseemly and rude but balcony man is over there acting out the break up as well as mouthing along and it’s the funniest thing lwj’s seen all week.

wwx notices him laugh and decides to wave at him. lwj tentatively waves back and with that the magic of their relationship sets in

now when lwj goes to the cafe in the morning wwx will look around the store until he spots lwj and wave at him, and lwj will lift his mug up in greeting which always make wwx laugh

then when they get on the train, they always get seats opposite each other and while they never actually say anything, sometimes lwj will glance over to see wwx sneaking a look at him. they both blush and look away but moments later they’re doing it again

when they walk to work, lwj crosses the street so they can walk at the same pace and not have to actually be right next to each other and despite having to cross back over, wwx is always still waiting to catch the elevator with him. 

now when they go up, they still don’t talk to each other but wwx always hums and lwj taps along with whatever tune he’s picked. 

same thing when they go back down in the evening and catch the train back

over time it starts to become more than just staring and smiling, now when the couple downstairs breaks up, wwx will hold up like three fingers and lwj understands that balcony man thinks they’ll get back together within three days

(wwx’s always right btw)

when they go to the cafe lwj will send wwx a thumbs down if the sports mum with eight kids gets in queue first and wwx will always make hearts with his hands whenever the baristas start flirting. 

when they get in the train and hear the angry businessmen argue they’re sitting there making funny faces at each other,, well wwx does and lwj just tries to keep his face blank. he usually succeeds but sometimes he smiles and wwx will always do a little victory wiggle which is honestly so cute lwj is dying

the elevator? they don’t even have to say anything. whenever a coworker they don’t like hops in they just find subtle ways to explain why they don’t like them and how

the best time was when lwj saw su she get in and immediately pulled a face like he sucked a lemon and had to try and mime “he always takes really long lunches and is really bad at sales but we can’t get rid of him because he’d whine too much and no one wants to put up with that” but he’s lwj and doesn’t really do miming. in contrast, when wen chao gets in wwx just holds up his thumb and pointer finger like he’s measuring something, and holds them only a few centimetres apart. 

they both get really good at reading each other like that

when they catch the train back home it’s always really late so lwj ends up reading a book while wwx sketches and, just as lwj always holds up his books so wwx can see the cover, wwx will show lwj whatever he’s drawn

at one point in time lwj comes home and sees a stray kitten hiding in a box near the entrance to his building but he can’t take it in bc of his rabbit so instead he goes out onto his balcony and just points straight down and holds up a cardboard box he has in his own apartment

without even hesitating wwx goes downstairs and crosses the street, still dressed in his pyjamas, and takes the kitten home. 

lwj kinda expected wwx to take the kitten to a shelter or something but within a month their morning routine changes to allow a kitten to climb all over wwx as he tries to wake up and it’s ridiculously adorable but also lwj is sitting there in absolute awe of how good balcony man is to just take in a stray like that 

there’s probably a few other scenes, like wwx and lwj going out to a dinner with their teams and they get seated at nearby tables and end up sending each other commiserating smiles whenever the conversation gets particularly dull and the time when lwj gets caught by the well-meaning grandma who always tries to set people up with her granddaughter on the train and he taps out sos in morse code and wwx just replies rip and stares out the window for the rest of the trip 

anyway this is getting a bit long so im going to say jump forward a year (doesn’t have to be a year i guess). they’re still enjoying this whole thing they’ve got going on and they know each other so well that when lwj sees wwx some mornings he knows to go to the cafe early and order an extra strong coffee for wwx and wwx will sometimes sketch pictures of rabbits when lwj seems a bit annoyed after work

(wwx will fold them into paper aeroplanes and throw them across the train to lwj and lwj always takes them home and flattens them back out and then shows them to his rabbit before before putting them up on the fridge)

one day the trains break down and they’re stuck waiting at the station in the morning and for once lwj feels genuinely sad that he might not get to work on time. like work is whatever but he doesn’t want to miss out on the half an hour on the train with balcony man and the way they speedwalk to see who can get to the office first and the awkward waiting outside the elevators where wwx bounces up and down and lwj taps out a rhythm against his thigh until wwx notices and starts humming along

but then he notices wwx walking over to him. he seems kinda nervous, hesitating at first but he puts on a confident smile and saunters over and lwj is panicking because they haven’t done this before and he doesn’t know what to do

wwx opens his mouth - he’s going to make the first move and ask out his mystery man, but then lwj takes one look at wwx, who’s standing right next to him and it feels different to all the other times they’ve been together, and he panics

wwx barely manages to open his mouth to say good morning when lwj blurts out will you marry me?

wwx blinks, blushes bright red, and immediately goes yes! (it’s a bit too loud and people around them turn to stare but neither of them notice)

lwj immediately whips out his phone and sends in an email saying that he’s taking a sick day and after he sends it off, he slips his phone back into his pocket, takes wwx’s hand in his and asks him what’s your name?

it takes wwx like fifteen minutes to stop laughing by which time they’re back at their cafe and this time, they both sit down at a table after ordering their drinks and it’s the baristas making hearts with their hands at them

[uncloseted]

i have no intention of ever having a job. i'm miserable every day at school. classes are fine sometimes when i'm in the right mood and i don't have to wake up too early and i don't have to stay there too long but if i have to study or do homework that's even a little bit complicated then i start to hate it again. i can't think of a single job that i would feel ok doing. i know you don't believe in laziness but i've talked to all kinds of professionals and really, i'm not mentally ill, i just

don't want to work, ever. i don't want to "work hard" or sacrifice or chase my dreams because i don't have any. i don't want to be a "wife" or a sugar baby or anything like that either. i just want to be at home and ocasionally go shopping or to a cafe or whatever. and i don't know what to do. i feel like there's either something really wrong with me or everyone else has been brainwashed to think that working is something desirable

I like this question! I think it's reflecting something that a lot of people feel but that doesn't get talked about very often. What you're describing is called "refusal of work", and there are various subcultures and individuals who have historically engaged in it. R/antiwork is currently a pretty large community of people interested in discussing the refusal of work.

The first thing I want to do is quickly make a distinction between "work" and "labor". For the purposes of this discussion, I'm going to use "work" to mean "jobs under the structure of capitalism" and "labor" to mean "any activity or purposeful intent towards a goal". The reason I wanted to make that distinction is this- unless a person is set to inherit a huge amount of money or lives in a place that's testing a universal basic income structure, existence requires some type of labor. Even if you completely go off the grid, there's still labor involved in finding food and shelter. But the fact that existence requires some form of "labor" doesn't necessarily mean that we all need to have "a job". And for most of us, there are types of "labor" that we'll do entirely for free. For example, I spend about 20 hours a week on this blog, even though I make no money from it. It's "labor", but it's labor that I enjoy and that I'll keep doing with or without a financial incentive (although please, if you can, donate to this blog 😂). It may help to consider what kind of "labor" you do for fun or what kind of "labor" doesn't feel like work for you.

Next I want to take a little detour here to talk about laziness and why "jobs" often suck. You rightly identified that I don't believe laziness exists. I think what we call "laziness" is always the product of other barriers, which is why often people who are "lazy" in one context are "productive" in another (for example, not wanting to do work but engaging in a hobby). Sometimes, those are mental health related (depression, anxiety, etc.), neurological (ADHD, autism, sleep deprivation, brain injury, etc.), or physical (hookworm infection, chronic pain, chronic illness, injury). But other times, those barriers are social or cultural.

Sometimes, people are "lazy" because they're experiencing burnout. Other times, they're "lazy" because they feel an expectation to perform perfectly, and feel that it's better to not start than it is to try and fail. Other times, people are "lazy" because what they're expected to do isn't what they actually want to do, or because they can't see the point in doing what they're expected to do. Sometimes people are "lazy" because their basic needs aren't being met (adequate nutrition, sleep, exercise, social interaction, fun). Sometimes people are "lazy" because, despite the fact that they work full-time, they're still not able to meet their basic needs. Culturally, we put a premium on economic productivity, without considering the contexts that might lead to a person being "lazy". As author Devon Price says, "laziness is usually a warning sign from our bodies and our minds that something is not working." I think before we call ourselves "lazy", it's important to ask ourselves, "what in my life isn't working?", "what are the needs I have that aren't being met", "what struggles am I facing that aren't being taken seriously?", "what structural problems are getting in my way?", and "what would I need to feel motivated in doing this task?"

This idea of laziness as a warning sign kind of leads me to my next point. The way we relate to labor in a cultural sense is inherently flawed. There's a lot to say about how we got here, especially with regards to cultural Calvinism and the Protestant Work Ethic. But this is already a long enough essay, so I'll try to keep it brief for now, and we can go more into depth if you're curious. Culturally, we've gotten to a point where we view our purpose as contributing to the economy, and our worth as contingent on how well we're doing that. We've set up all of our incentives to make sure that people are "working hard", and we've made it increasingly difficult to afford to live unless a person is "working hard". In the US, "there is no state, county or city in the country where a full-time, minimum-wage worker working 40 hours a week can afford a two-bedroom rental" and "a full-time minimum-wage worker can afford a one-bedroom rental in only 7% of all US counties — 218 counties out of more than 3,000 nationwide." Especially in the US, we live in a hyper-individualistic system where people are expected to succeed or fail solely as a product of their own effort, without any social support and without any acknowledgement that the playing field is not level for everyone. So we view the fact that people can't afford housing as a personal failing on their parts instead of a social failing on the governmental level- it's not that the federal minimum wage hasn't been raised since 2009, it's that people aren't working hard enough to afford what they need. That can be incredibly discouraging, especially when you're working as hard as you know how.

The deeper problem with this belief is that humans aren't really designed to be "hard workers" to begin with. In many ways, we're still essentially just large apes. We just need socialization, food, and sex, and we're hardwired to do those things in the easiest way possible. That's why our brains love superstimuli like junk food and TV- it's a huge amount of a stimulus we need (calories, socialization) in a way that requires no effort on our part. So when we're thrown into a situation where we're removed from the natural world, where our basic needs are being held hostage in order to extract our labor, and where we're expected to do more work than the average hunter-gatherer would have, it makes sense that we hate it. Capitalism is not a system that's designed for humans; it's a system designed for economies.

This dislike of work is exacerbated by the current, hyper-capitalist system we have, at least in the US. Many people feel that their jobs are "bullshit jobs"- ones that are meaningless, but exist so that people can be employed. I think a lot of us feel that the economy exists to sustain itself as opposed to benefitting humanity- this is especially true as more jobs become automatable, but the same amount of people continue to be employed. The promise of the Industrial Revolution was that people would be able to work less, but instead we're just working longer hours and more quickly.

I think Marx was right when he said that capitalism alienates us from the work that we do- from our product, from the act of production, from other workers, from the profit of our work, and from our humanity. We are one small part of how a product gets made and designed. We don't necessarily get to see how our product is consumed or how it helps people (if it helps at all). We're set up in a way that pits us against fellow workers for promotions, bonuses, and recognition. And the vast majority of the profit from our work goes into the pockets of people who are already wealthy instead of being distributed to the individuals who actually did the work. In 2020, the median Amazon worker made $29,007, while Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos's net worth grew $75 billion in the same period of time. If that wealth was able to be distributed evenly to each of Amazon's 1.3 million employees, each one would get about $57,692 extra. People feel exploited, whether or not they're consciously aware of it.

This alienation is one of the reasons that we're seeing the "Great Resignation" right now. Some surveys have found that as many as 65% of workers were looking for a new job and 88% of executives said that their company was experiencing a higher turnover than normal. People are tired of feeling exploited, not having a work-life balance, rigid schedules and work environments, low wages, and of job mismatch.

So what do we do about this sub-par system? I don't really know. Boycott Amazon and other billionaires' companies, for sure. But also, support attempts at unionization and attempts to take other forms of collective action such as strikes. Support universal basic income programs. Support legislation for better worker protections, including increased paid time off, parental leave, and fewer working hours. Support companies that have profit-sharing models in place. It's not a lot, but small changes eventually add up to big results.

Assuming that we're not going to be able to overturn a capitalistic structure within the next few years, though, what are the options for people who hate working? The first thing I would suggest is to figure out how much money you would need to comfortably live. Are you hoping to buy a house someday, or are you okay renting for the rest of your life? Do you want to live in a high cost of living area, or would you be happy somewhere with fewer amenities? Do you want to live in a city or the country? Do you need a car, or are you okay walking or taking public transportation? Are you planning on having children? How much do you spend a month on food? On other necessities? On things that you want but don't need? If you can figure out how much money you need to comfortably live, then you can look at your different options for making that amount of money as quickly and painlessly as possible. I would also suggest identifying what matters to you in life. Instead of what you don't want to be doing, I think it's important to consider what you do want. What are your values? What do you believe in? What would you do with your life if you weren't setting out to satisfy other people? Knowing what's important to you can help you feel more fulfilled in general, as well as to figure out how much money you actually need to be making.

In terms of how to make money, what are some of those options for people who hate working? You identified one of them in your ask - getting compensated for doing emotional or domestic labor through being a stay-at-home partner or a sugar baby. This strategy does have its benefits, especially if you like your partner. It allows you to live an essentially work-free life and to be financially compensated for things you would have done for free (such as provide emotional support, cook and clean, hang out with a partner, etc). But it can create a complicated interpersonal dynamic that can be a struggle to navigate.

If that's not for you, there are other possibilities. You could find a remote job that allows you to work whenever you want (such as most freelance jobs and many project-based jobs), meaning that you can choose when you wake up, how many hours you work, and where you work from. This gives you the flexibility to decide if you're going to go to a cafe or to go shopping in the middle of the day. This kind of work also allows you to maximize your time so you're reducing the number of hours you're working overall. Anecdotally, I've had times in my life where I was working about 10 hours a week and could afford my lifestyle through this kind of freelance work. For these types of jobs, you can also consider automating them- for example, I sometimes do social media management and I use an AI to generate Instagram captions so I don't have to think about them.

You could also choose to condense the amount of time you work. For example, some jobs are seasonal or contract-based - you can work for six months of the year and then take the other six months off, or work for two weeks and then take two weeks off. The time that you're working might suck, but it may be worth it in order to have more free time than someone who's working a traditional 40 hour week.

In a similar vein, if you can move to a country with good worker's benefits, some countries mandate at least 3 weeks of paid vacation for their workers in addition to public holidays. These include Norway, Spain, Portugal, Iceland, Austria, Denmark, France, Finland, Luxembourg, the UK, and Lithuania. In countries like Germany, most employers give their workers up to six weeks of paid time off, and they work about 27 hours per week on average. There are some types of jobs that will provide you with a place to stay and sponsor your visa, meaning that you can save a reasonable amount of money.

Another option is to become financially independent and retire early. This option, known as FIRE, is typically done through getting a job (traditional or not) and then aggressively saving your income. For people who are saving 75% of their income, it takes about 10 years of work to not need to work for the rest of their lives. For people who are okay with living a very frugal life or who have a high paying job, it's possible that number could be achieved even more quickly. That said, it can be difficult to save that much if your income is low, so this approach seems to work best for people with higher-paying jobs.

Finally, you could join a commune, other type of non-traditional community, or live by yourself off the grid. There's still "labor" involved in this type of life, but it may feel less like a "job" or "work" and more like living your life.

With all of this, I think it's important to remember that you don't actually have to be good at your job. You don't have to work hard or sacrifice for your work. You can leave on time and refuse to go "above and beyond". You just need to be competent enough that it's more of a hassle to replace you than it is to keep you- which is actually a pretty low bar in a lot of places. As long as you're meeting your deadlines and producing acceptable work, it doesn't really matter how ambitious you are. Thinking about work that way may help to relieve some of the stress that we associate with jobs and with working.

Some final thoughts. You're probably going to need to do some type of work, but it can be less painful if you plan well. Look for a job that feels meaningful, where you see the product of the work that you're putting in, and where you can manage yourself (or have good management). Try to prioritize living your life if you're not energized by and passionate about the work that you're doing. And make sure to take care of yourself first and foremost. The more you focus on your personal values, goals, and needs, the better you'll feel overall, and the less difficult working will be.

[annabethy]

“never do that again” and/or “that was embarrassing”

perhaps,, in the tiktok au if you want😳 bc i’m way too excited about that one

in which annabeth embarrasses herself but doesn’t mind too much,, percabeth,, part 3 of tiktok au

The way Annabeth wakes up is not at all what she expected. Her eyes blink open slowly, and she is in a bed with sheets too soft to be hers. Her senses are on high alert when she sees a wall that definitely isn’t the color of her bedroom, and she spends so much time observing the area around her that she fails to notice the strong arm that’s curled around her waist until someone shifts behind her.

A featherlight kiss is pressed to the curve of her ear, and she suddenly recalls who exactly is behind her and why. It brings a flush and a smile to her face all at once.

“Hey,” Percy whispers, a delicious low scratch to his voice. He stretches his legs, and she can feel is very bare skin against her own naked legs. “You awake?”

Annabeth smiles softly into the sheets when his arm tightens. “No.”

“Mh-hm.” His face presses into her neck, nose nudging the soft skin. She can hear him yawn quietly, and she certainly agrees with the action. There’s a subtle ache in her body and she is absolutely exhausted. “Are you as tired as I am?”

“Entirely spent,” she says, voice pausing when he bends down to brush his lips against the spot of smooth skin right between her shoulder blades.

Annabeth isn’t sure what she should say when he doesn’t answer. She had zero intentions of coming and sleeping with him when they were supposed to film tiktoks. It’s not something she usually does either, but she can’t say that she regrets it in the slightest. It’s the best thing to happen in the last week, if she’s being honest.

Percy sits up behind her, the thin sheets pooling around his hips, exposing her back to the cold air of his apartment. She’s not facing him, but she can hear his breathing and when he scratches at his chin, no doubt lining with stubble. The thought makes her bite her lip. The bed dips slightly when he slides off of the mattress, and then there’s a quiet curse at the cool touch of the hardwood floor.

When he comes around the bed so that he is within eyesight, she notices that he has thrown on a pair of sweatpants but kept a shirt off. She lets herself shamelessly scan over him, and he just squeezes her foot accusingly.

He smiles at her softly, fingers scratching her lower leg from over the blanket. “Breakfast?”

She groans, shoving her face back into the mattress. As much as she would love staring at Percy while he makes her food, no doubt a sight she doesn’t want to miss, her brain is also still too hazy for it to possibly be time for her to get up. “What time is it?”

“Eight.”

Annabeth chokes. “Eight?!”

“What? Do you have something against the number eight?”

“Eight a.m.,” she mutters in disbelief. “Who wakes up at eight in the morning?”

“I do,” he says, laughing.

Annabeth lifts her head just to scrunch her nose at him in disgust before she very pointedly turns over in bed. “I simply cannot wake up before ten or else I don’t work.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she confirms, closing her eyes and smothering a smile when his fingers pull the blanket down her back a little bit so he can rub the skin soothingly. “Unless you’re going to kick me out?”

Percy blows air through his lips dismissingly. “Kick you out? Never.”

She looks over her shoulder. “Can I please go to back to sleep?”

“Go for it,” he says kindly. “What do you want to eat though? So I can have it ready when you wake up?”

“Cinnamon rolls,” she says, not at all expecting him to actually make it. Her eyes flutter shut again, and she hears him give a low chuckle. She is surprised when he bends down to her side to press a kiss to her cheek, and when he walks out of the room to leave her be, she wonders what exactly it all means.

Certainly this isn’t the way a one-night-stand plays out, but is that even what it really is? Surely Percy doesn’t treat all of his hookups with cuddles and kisses the morning after. She decides she’ll figure it all out later because she’s already beginning to knock back out.

Annabeth thinks the only reason she truly wakes up is because of the warm smell wafting in through the open door. The sweet scent makes her smile. She stretches, back popping deliciously, and she feels much more awake. She decides it’s probably best to get up. It takes her a good few minutes of searching for the shift she’d had on last night before she settles on throwing on his oversized t-shirt and calling it a day. It falls just below the curve of her ass, and the sleeves almost reach her elbow, but it also smells like him and makes her feel happy.

She stumbles out into the living room. Percy is sitting at the kitchen island, his back to her. He’s thrown on a shirt sometime while she was asleep.

Annabeth reaches behind him, settling her chin on his shoulder as her arms wrap around his waist. “You actually made cinnamon rolls,” she notes, smiling into his neck.

Percy tenses, and her mind blares with alarm. Her head whips toward him, expecting to find his face filled with annoyance, much like any other experience sleeping over with a guy.

Instead, he’s suppressing a smile, and a second later, dropping his face into his hands.

“Annabeth,” he whispers, a touch of humor in his voice, “I’m on a live.”

She blinks and looks towards the screen she just noticed in front of him. It’s a live recording, and she sees over one-hundred thousand people are joined.

Oh god.

She just about dies from mortification on the spot.

“Oh.” Annabeth takes an immediate step back, her face blazing with heat.

She just walked up to him wearing nothing except his shirt, and she just kissed his neck, and this is not good.

Percy, of course, just smiles and drags her closer. “Do you want to say hello?”

“Absolutely not.”

He shakes his head, laughing. He reads from the screen, “Why is Annabeth naked in your apartment?”

She groans miserably.

“She’s not naked,” Percy says. “Next question.”

Annabeth covers her face. “Percy.”

He looks at her again. It’s a soft glance, understanding, and he turns back to the camera. He ends the live rather quickly, but she knows the damage is already done. He has twenty million people following him, and every single one of them is going to know within hours.

“Come here,” Percy says, tugging her closer. He wraps his arms around her waist. “Are you okay?”

“That was embarrassing,” she whispers miserably.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he’s laughing. “I thought you’d be asleep for at least another hour.”

She just makes a sound that’s a mix between a groan and whimper.

“It’s not that bad,” he soothes. “They’ll all forget about it soon enough.”

“We’ve both been doing this long enough to know otherwise.”

Percy laughs.

“This isn’t funny,” she accuses.

Percy’s hand moves from her waist so he can pinch his fingers together. “It’s a little bit funny.”

Annabeth pushes his shoulder without force, but even her lips are turning up in a smile. His grin is just contagious – it’s hardly her fault.

“You’re so beautiful,” Percy whispers, brushing a loose strand of hair out of her face.

She raises an eyebrow but makes no comment. This feels like so much more than a hookup, and she finds that she likes the thought.

“I like the clothes,” he says in admiration. “You look good in my clothes.”

“Yeah, well I couldn’t find my shirt.” Annabeth’s face drops back into the crook of his neck as his hands trail down slightly beneath the edge of the shirt. She breathes him in and says the first thing she thinks of to change the subject. “You made cinnamon rolls?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I didn’t think you’d actually make it.”

“Of course I did.”

She spots grabs a half-eaten cinnamon roll from his plate and takes a bite out of it. It’s amazing, really, still warm and gooey. Annabeth thinks she could eat a million of these, and she tells him just that.

“I made it with a touch of love.”

“Do you always make cinnamon rolls with love for all of your hookups.”

“There aren’t enough hookups to make a definitive decision on that,” he tells her. “But I wouldn’t call you a hookup.”

“You wouldn’t? Then what was that we did last night?”

“Hookup sounds too neutral, like I don’t care about you, and that’s not true at all.”

The words make her tingle. “You like me.”

Percy laughs, and it’s a melody in her ears. “Yes, you’re like my middle school crush.”

“So what does this make us then?”

“You tell me.” It’s exactly what he said last night, except she hadn’t answered him that time. At least not with words.

“I mean, people definitely think we’re dating now that they saw me wandering around in just your shirt.”

“I guess we have an image to uphold then?”

“We also met yesterday,” she reminds him.

“Then let me take you out. A real date.”

She smiles. “A real date?”

“We never did make it to that diner.”

“And then what?”

“Then I take you on another date?”

“Then?”

“Another, and another, until you fall in love with me.”

It’s a bold statement but based on how she’s feeling after only one day, she doesn’t doubt that it’ll happen, as long as he keeps looking at her like she has the stars in her eyes.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I think you might fall in love with me first.”

“A part of me already has.” Percy kisses her once. “I love your personality.” He kisses her forehead. “Your humor.” Nose. “Your selflessness.” Neck. “Everything about you.”

��You know all of that already?”

“I’ve been following you for a while,” he says. She laughs slightly because it’s a statement that would sound creepy if it weren’t for why they met. “But you can call it intuition.”

And she thinks that this might turn into something beautiful.

She surges up to catch his lips. It starts sweet – she can taste the frosting from the cinnamon rolls on him – and quickly turns more fiery. He bites at her lower lip, hands roaming on every piece of skin he can possibly reach. He rucks up the shirt slightly, kisses her harder, and she’s dizzy with affection. But he stops himself, and she does too.

“Do you have anything to do today?”

“Depends on what you have in mind,” she says, sly.

He hums and picks up the abandoned cinnamon roll to take a bite before speaking. “How about we go to a diner, and then we spend the day out? Maybe we’ll fall in love in the process.”

She plucks the treat from his fingers and takes her own bite. “I think I’m ready to fall in love.”

Annabeth would never admit it, but she thinks that’s the day she really does fall in love. He’s everything she never knew she was missing in her life. He takes her to eat, and then they walk around the city. It’s a simple date, but one that fits them so well. His eyes never leave her, and it leaves her even deeper into this love they’ve created.

They definitely run into a few of their followers while they’re out, and every single time, it’s a show trying to explain themselves. But they always leave hand in hand, smiles plastered on their faces. It consumes all of her, and she doesn’t mind one bit.

It’s insane to think that this is because of tiktok of all things, but she supposes love has always been mysterious.

After all, the goddess of love sprang from the sea, and the handbook of love was written in invisible ink.

[fallingforyou123]

Coffee and Drive-ins-A Cupcakes and Therapy Moment

A/N: Here's the next part, hope you guys enjoy it! Sorry it took so long but this weekend was hell, ended up in the hospital for a little bit, but I'm all good now! As always, likes are reblogs are appreciated.

Summary: A drive in, therapy, first kiss

Word Count: 1.6k (she's short)

Warnings: First kiss awkwardness

Masterlist

The morning air was crisp and cool, summer starting to turn into fall in a matter of days. The streets were deserted, the city still in the process of waking. Bucky was seated on the steps of his building with Alpine, sleep having never come last night. It had been a few days since that night in the bakery and he was still floating on a cloud of peace. The nightmares were still there, still plaguing his nights, but during the day he could drift off to a place where he was with you. You had seen each other every morning, Bucky stopping in for breakfast at the bakery before starting his day.

As the sun started to rise over the buildings, Bucky began to walk, his legs carrying him the familiar way to the bakery. When he gets there he greets the boy behind the counter, one of the college kids that you have in on busy days, and heads over to his usual table. He’s only sitting for a few minutes before you head over to him, his coffee and breakfast in hand.

“Good morning! I wish I could sit and eat with you today, but I've got pastries in the oven.”

You hand him his stuff, place a kiss on his cheek, and head back into the kitchen. Bucky chuckles as he watches you walk away, you’re always on the move. He sits and enjoys his coffee while reading the newspaper, making a mental note to compliment you on breakfast later. Bucky has become your unofficial taste-tester over the past few days, bringing him whatever new creation you’re working on, today was cranberry orange scones.

When he’s finished, Bucky cleans up his things, pops his head into the back to say goodbye, and heads out the door. The sun is fully out now, replacing the chill from this morning with nothing but a light breeze. It’s Sunday, which means he’s headed to another therapy session, but for some reason, the usual dread of going has lessened.

He arrives at the building exactly 10 minutes early, his usual time, and buzzes in. He nods his head in recognition towards the receptionist and walks into the office. It’s routine, it’s something he’s been doing for months now. He sits on the couch, ready to say no more than a few words, but the second his therapist asks him if anything new has happened, he starts rambling.

He tells her about finding you in the market, about the date, even his daily breakfasts, and she’s thrilled. “This is what we’ve been working towards for months, James. You don’t need to surround yourself with people you’ve hurt and feel miserable, you can let people in who make you feel good.”

Bucky goes silent at that, he knows it’s true, but the need to suffer the same as the people he’s hurt will always be there.

“Have you told her yet, about your past?”

His head snaps up, the thought having never crossed his mind. “No.”

“James, you can’t lie to her, she needs to know. She’ll find out eventually, whether you tell her or not. You’re not a ghost, not anymore, stop pretending you are.”

“Eventually, maybe. I just met her, I can’t lose her once she knows what I’ve done.”

The good feeling he’d had earlier slowly turns into annoyance. He glances at the clock, ready to leave, willing time to move faster. His therapist sighs, takes her glasses off and places them on the table beside her, and looks at Bucky. “You can’t stay closed off forever. There is a darkness inside you that won’t go away unless you let someone in, stop fighting the people who care about you.”

***

It’s mid-evening when Bucky picks up his phone and calls you. He’s been thinking all day, his mind refusing to stop running. He needs to do something to distract himself, but more importantly, he needs to see you. It’s been months since he’s used his car, it’s been parked in the building's garage gathering dust, but tonight he needs it. He pulls up outside of the bakery and you’re already waiting for him. Ever the gentleman, he gets out and helps you into the car and then you’re off.

“Gonna tell me where we’re going, or am I going to have to assume you’re kidnapping me?”

Bucky chuckles and looks at you, “No, doll, I’m not kidnapping you. But I’m not telling you where we’re going, you’ll see when we get there.”

You sigh dramatically, and then chuckle, leaning back in your seat. You drive in silence for a few minutes before your curiosity gets the better of you and you begin pestering Bucky with questions. “Are we going for food?”

“Maybe.”

“Mini-golf?”

“No.”

“Running away to Canada for maple syrup?”

This earns a laugh from Bucky, “No, doll. We’re almost there though.”

You’re in Greenpoint now, right down by the water, the moon replacing the sun. Bucky pulls into a parking lot filled with other cars, a big screen sitting at the front. “What do you think y/n?”

You’ve never been to a drive in before, but you think this is the best one ever. There’s food trucks lining the sides of the lot, picnic tables and lounge chairs set up in front, and waiters walking around taking orders. “I’ve never been to one of these before.”

Bucky looks at you weirdly and you laugh, “What? I grew up in an apartment in Manhattan and lived in a rundown town in Europe, drive-ins weren’t that popular for me.”

“There used to be one in my neighborhood that would play every Friday night. I’d sneak Rebecca out, meet up with my friend Steve, and we’d come buy these big things of popcorn and sit ourselves in the grass for hours. It was one of the only things we had growing up.”

You grab Bucky's hand and give him a small smile, “That must’ve been really nice. I wish I’d had something like that growing up. Closest I got was watching my parents fight over dinner like it was a reality t.v. show.”

The both of you laugh, hands still intertwined and a warm feeling falling over the both of you. “Well, I’d like to replace those memories with some better ones, if you want.”

“I’d like that a lot.”

It’s then that a man comes up to the window and Bucky turns to hand him the tickets, an order sheet getting passed back to him. You both check off what food you want, a couple of coffees, some popcorn and some candy, before handing it back to the man. “I hope you don’t mind what movie’s playing, Back to the Future Part II.”

“Who knew you were a sci-fi geek, Bucky.”

He rolls his eyes at you, “It was the only thing that I could still get tickets for. It was all last minute, I needed a distraction.”

“I get it. It’s been a long day for everyone.”

Sighing and nodding his head, Bucky reaches out and grabs your hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. A few minutes later your food arrives and the movie starts to play. The two of you sit and enjoy the movie, making small comments and laughing together, it was the perfect way to end both of your long days.

When the credits start to roll and other cars start pulling away, Bucky turns to you, noticing the hesitancy on your face, neither of you quite wanting the night to end. “Do you want to go get coffee? I’m sure we can find something still open.”

You nod your head and Bucky begins to pull out of the lot. You drive around for a little while, taking in the night scenery and enjoying the silence. Eventually you find a small cafe still open and head inside to order your coffees. After acquiring your drinks you head outside to walk around.

The fall air has begun to replace the warm summer, and nights have become cold. A small chill runs through you and you shiver, Bucky notices and takes off his jacket to place around your shoulders. “Thank you.”

“Can’t have you freezing to death on me.”

The two of you walk for what seems like hours, finding comfort in each other. You end up in a small park sitting on a bench, your head resting on Bucky’s shoulder and him with his arm wrapped around you. You turn your head to say something, only to find bucky already looking at you. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t name, and he reaches out to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he leans in. A small brush of his lips against yours, so soft you can barely feel it, and it has your breath catching in your throat. You lean in again, this time with more urgency. You pull back only when you run out of breath, a small smile on your lips. “That was a nice way to end the evening.”

Bucky laughs, and it’s infectious. You’ve never fallen for someone so quickly, never felt so safe, but you can’t imagine not being with him. You sit there for a few more minutes, stealing quick kisses, before you decide it’s time to leave. Bucky drives you home and you spend a couple minutes kissing like teenagers in his car before you eventually get out of the car and head into your building. You don’t know what this is or where it’s going, but all you can think about as you get ready for bed is Bucky.

taglist: @posteyymaloney

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[blu-joons]

I’ll Be Home For Christmas ~ Bang Chan

His hands shook as he placed the key in the lock, feeling his heart pound in his chest he had never been so nervous to see you. It had been days since he’d last seen your face, hoping that all of the tension could be forgotten about in time to celebrate Christmas together.

Chan could barely remember what the two of you had been arguing about that morning, the two of you were just getting too stressed about Christmas and the boys being around that you ended up taking it out on each other instead, hurling words at each other that you could never mean.

When he threatened to leave, you knew he never could have meant it, but when he didn’t show up at the dorm that night you began to worry. By the fourth day you tried not to think about it too much, but it never changed the fact going to sleep in the bed by yourself was an absolute torture.

The only people the two of you could talk to was the boys, whilst Chan pleaded with them not to get involved and tell you where he was, you were desperate to know where he was so you could talk things through and make sure that he was home for Christmas.

As he opened up the door, he was taken by surprise by trails of lights scattered around the living room, a large tree was decorated beautifully besides the games console unit, with plenty of tinsels draped around all of the surfaces.

His shoulders dropped as he closed the door behind him, tiptoeing through the house to look across the pile of presents all of you had put out a couple of hours prior. Each member had their own dedicated pile, but straight away he knew which presents were from the two of you, the way white ribbon was tied perfectly around them had your name written all over it.

A light giggle escaped from him as he glossed over his own pile, each present was messy, except for one. He knelt down beside it, picking it up in his hand and spinning it around, studying the detail closely. As much as you liked to wrap everyone’s presents well, you always made a little extra with Chan’s to make sure that they were perfect.

Once he’d taken a good look around the place, he tiptoed towards his room, noticing that the lights were off, he took off his shoes before slowly pulling the door handle down to open up the room.

You were fast asleep tucked up tightly underneath the duvet with your head resting on his side of the bed. Chan felt his heartbeat quicken as he looked at your peaceful figure, the light snores that escaped and all the loose strands of hair that fell in front of your face.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, quietly closing the door behind himself, careful not to wake the other members.

He slipped his jeans off and changed into a pair of pyjama bottoms before stripping himself of his shirt, tossing it across the room. He moved around the bed so he was stood at your side, trying to pry a small part of the duvet out of your hold so he could join you.

As he laid down on the bed your body recognised that you were not alone, but the familiar scent of his cologne quickly told you who it was. You sighed, peeling your eyes open, spotting his shirt on the floor you knew for sure who it was. A light sigh came from you as you felt Chan shuffle as far over to the other side of the bed as he possibly could.

Your eyes glanced back at him as he shut his own, desperately wanting to reach out and find his hold, but you were far too stubborn to be the first one to cave.

“You could have at least slept on your own side,” you huffed.

You didn’t think he’d notice, but his eyes popped open as soon as he heard your voice. It had been days since he last heard it, but never did he realise just how much he missed it until you finally spoke, watching as he eventually turned around to look at you.

His smile softened as his eyes met yours, both of you were exhausted having barely slept with so much distance between you both.

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” he anxiously whispered, tucking his hand underneath your face, “if you’ve been anything like I’ve been then I imagine you were thankful to get a little bit of sleep in you.”

Your head slowly nodded, feeling tears threatening to spill, “I thought you probably wouldn’t be home for Christmas so late, it’s been days since you came back, I thought maybe you’d have gone permanently.”

Instantly his head shook, the two of you had too much together to ever give up now. Chan’s hands reached and took yours, pulling you towards the middle of the bed where he also shuffled, closing the distance between you both.

“I could never miss Christmas with you, it’s my favourite time of year.”

“Then why didn’t you call, I’ve been going crazy wondering what you were doing, where you were going to spend Christmas and who you’d be with,” you sighed, feeling him pull you tightly into his muscular chest. “I thought that I’d be by myself.”

He sighed heavily, releasing one of your hands and moving his own so it pressed against the back of your hand, knowing how much it comforted feeling him so close towards you.

Your breath was shaky as you refamiliarized yourself with everything about Chan, you were relieved to hear his voice and know that he was safe, even if you were still slightly mad for all the things that had been said.

“I never meant it you know,” he whispered down to you.

“I know you didn’t, I didn’t mean what I said either.”

Your argument was pointless, both of you knew it, because you always found your way back to each other. The only difference was that your arguments had never gone on this long before which scared you both.

“I love what you’ve done with the dorm,” he complimented, “and all the presents looked adorable too, it’s so easy to tell which were yours. I bet they’ve been a nightmare whilst you were decorating, they never listen every year when I tell them what to do.”

“It was actually fun,” you replied, taking him by surprise. “Hyunjin helped me with the high bits of the tree, Felix taught me how to bake biscuits, even Changbin helped me out with placing the presents under the tree, and he never bothers with Christmas.”

The boys had all been quick to rally around you with Chan gone, they knew better than anyone that it would only be a matter of time before Chan came back to you, so they made sure that you still made the most of the holidays without him being around.

“I wish I could have been around to enjoy it with you all, I was stupid for walking away and not solving things, I thought that maybe you’d need your space, but clearly we’ve both been having a bit of a miserable time without each other,” he admitted.

“Can we forget about it now, please?”

He nodded, pressing a long kiss to the top of your head. “It’s still Christmas Eve, so what do you say to going back into the kitchen and getting something to eat and watching a film, I’m too excited to fall asleep just yet.”

He handed you one of his shirts as you stood up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and making your way out onto the sofa, passing him the remote to scroll through the channels. As he did so, he made his way into the kitchen, grabbing two of the biscuits you and Felix had made.

“These look amazing,” he complimented, sitting himself beside you, cuddling you closely into his side, “I bet they taste amazing too.”

The sounds of the television were soon enough to wake most of the other members, one by one each of them creeped out of their rooms and joined you both, smiling proudly at the two of you cuddled back together again.

“I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to come back,” Han smiled, the last of the boys to leave the room, sitting himself next to Chan. “We knew there was no way you were going to miss Christmas with all of us.”

“I’ll always be home for Christmas with you guys.”

---

Masterlist

[sage-nebula]

Neku & Hanekoma surrogate father-son headcanons

— Neku is an only child, born to parents who, honestly, should have never been parents. It wasn’t that his birth was an accident, exactly . . . but more that his parents had him because they figured that having a child was the Next Step they were Supposed To Take. You know, go to school, get a good job, get married, have kids. Fortunately for any future potential siblings, Neku’s parents realized early on that this whole parenting thing really wasn’t for them and that they, in fact, hated being parents, and as such they never had any other children after Neku was born. Unfortunately for Neku, they did still have him and, due to stigma surrounding adoption (both in terms of adopting kids and giving your own kids up) in Japan, they kept him instead of adopting him out to parents who would actually love him.

— As a result, Neku’s relationship with his parents is . . . not great, to say the least. His parents never failed to provide the basic needs he needed to survive—things like food, shelter, clothes, etc. But they also weren’t keen on giving him anything beyond that, feeling that it was at best a hassle to do so and at worst an aggravation. So although Neku never went hungry, was never homeless, and was never without clothes that fit, he was also left to feed himself with the food that was in the house, and rely on himself for all of his emotional needs. In a way, he brought himself up. This contributes to how much of an absolute mess he is at the start of The World Ends With You, in that it wasn’t just the death of his friend that sent him into that complete lockdown of not letting anyone else in, but also that he’d taken care of his own business for so long growing up that he figured this really was the best way to go about it, that he hadn’t needed anyone else for a long time and wouldn’t need them, either, if trying to rely on them only brought him pain. He was forced into self-sufficiency due to parental neglect and, as a result, that trauma shaped how he developed and grew as a person.

— On top of his parents not really wanting to be parents and do the things that parents do, the fact that Neku’s interests and attitude were radically different from their own / became “difficult” following the death of his friend meant that Neku and his parents were often at odds. Neku’s parents didn’t understand things like Neku’s style or interests, and didn’t appreciate (to say the least) his sarcastic tongue and snarky attitude. Neku, in turn, didn’t appreciate them belittling and demeaning his interests, talking down on his idol (they aren’t fans of graffiti and think that CAT is a vandal who should be arrested), and only paying attention to him when they had something critical to say. Needless to say, as Neku entered his teen years the tension between them became thick enough that a knife would have a hard time cutting through it and fighting became the norm. This was exacerbated by the fact that although his parents were glad when Neku wasn’t home, they also felt they had to punish him when he broke curfew, resulting in even more hostility and anger on both sides of the conflict.

— Prior to the first game, whenever Neku left home after a fight with his parents (or stayed out later than he was supposed to), he would often go to the mural in Udagawa in order to have some time alone to cool off. After the first game (but before his three year imprisonment in Shinjuku), he found himself going to Wildkat instead. This wasn’t intentional, at least not at first; his feet often just carried him there before he realized what was happening, and the first few times he ended up there at obscenely late hours (such as around midnight), he felt embarrassed and bad about it and apologized to Hanekoma for waking him up. But Hanekoma never minded; he let Neku in to have a cup of coffee or hot chocolate or whatever else, and to talk about whatever was eating him up inside. Not that Neku liked talking about it, but . . . whatever little he was willing to divulge, he always felt safe divulging to Hanekoma.

— For his part, Hanekoma generally wasn’t one to involve himself in domestic spats. What happened between parents and their children was their business, not his. But Neku was a special case. Neku was someone who had just recently been through three weeks of Hell. Neku was someone who had, though he probably didn’t realize just how much, contributed to saving Shibuya. And Neku was a kid who, Hanekoma would admit to himself, he could see a little of himself in. Not totally—there were a lot of differences beween them, too—but something in the tenor of Neku’s Soul was similar to Hanekoma’s own. There was a lot of potential there; Neku had a lot of potential to be someone even greater than he already was, and Hanekoma would hate to see that squandered by a miserable home life. So if Neku needed some solace in Wildkat in the middle of the night after yet another fight with his parents, Hanekoma was willing to give it to him. And if Neku needed someplace to crash, well, Hanekoma had a perfectly good couch upstairs. It was no big deal, really. Wildkat’s door was always open to him, no questions asked.

— So for the couple months Neku had between the long Game and Coco murdering him again (and Joshua locking him in Shinjuku for three years instead of, you know, just reviving him and putting him back in the RG where Shiba and the others couldn’t get their hands on him), this became something of a routine for them. It didn’t happen every night, but at least a few nights a week Neku found himself at Wildkat long after hours, oftentimes crashing on Hanekoma’s couch when he was too tired or it was too late for him to go home. His parents, of course, hated this; Neku wouldn’t tell them where he was (they hated CAT, and would undoubtedly call the police on him for his “street vandalism” if they knew who he was, and there was no way Neku was about to sell him out), but they hated that he was staying out all night and let him have it whenever they saw him the next day. Of course, this often led to Neku bolting that night, too . . . so it was a bad cycle that kept repeating. Hanekoma did think, sometimes, that maybe he should encourage some reconciliation here, and he did try a little; he tried playing a light devil’s adovcate whenever Neku opened up about his problems, suggesting that maybe his parents weren’t trying to upset him, but that maybe they were just doing what parents did. But Neku never wanted to hear it, and Hanekoma wasn’t going to push. The last thing he needed to do, he felt, was push Neku away from one of the few places he felt safe.

— Over time, Neku felt more and more comfortable sharing what was going on with Hanekoma—in fragments, of course, bits and pieces, but bits and pieces that became bigger and a bit more detailed as time went on. And they talked about other things, too. Tin Pin Slammer, how things were going in the café, new music that had just come out and indie artists that were just about to make their presence known on the big stage, and just about anything else under the sun. Hanekoma never belittled or disparaged Neku’s interests, and in fact often had insight and knowledge into things that Neku hadn’t known before. Neku’s late night visits to Wildkat were a respite from a tumultuous home life, but also Neku greatly enjoyed getting to talk to and spend time with his idol (who was becoming less of an idol, and more of a person to him, someone reliable and safe whom he could go to if he ever needed anything, someone who could actually look out for him for the first time in his life, like his parents never did). And on Hanekoma’s end, well, he genuinely liked spending this time with Neku and would be lying if he said he didn’t. Sure, when they first met, Neku was more prickly than an over-thorned cactus and it was abundantly clear why Joshua had chosen Neku to be his proxy, i.e. the representation of the worst of Shibuya. But Neku had grown so much, and was still growing, and well, Hanekoma liked that he got to watch that growth happen right in front of his eyes. Neku was a good kid. Hanekoma liked having him around.

— The week before Neku was murdered, Hanekoma offered him a part-time job at Wildkat, so he could start saving money so he could move out of his parents’ place after he graduated high school. (Of course, Hanekoma was willing to just give him the couch upstairs, but Neku was too proud to just take that without doing anything in return.) It would have to be kept on the down low, of course, because high school students weren’t supposed to have part-time jobs unless they had a waiver signed that let them do so based on economic need, but it wasn’t as if Wildkat was exactly on most people’s radar anyway. Neku would start training the following week, and hopefully be full-fledged, post-training employee by the end of the month. Or at least he would have been, had he lived that long.

— Three days before he was murdered, on a night when Neku once again found himself in Wildkat after hours, Hanekoma took Neku with him to tag a previously undisturbed portion of the Udagawa mural. Neku was, of course, nervous as hell; this was not only his first time tagging a wall, but he was tagging a wall with CAT. He had no idea what he was doing, he was bound to screw it up, and what would CAT think of him then? How could he ever look Hanekoma in the eye after that? Having to decide whether he could shoot Joshua to save his own life had felt like less pressure than this.

— But Hanekoma activated some of the hidden sigils in his previously marked graffiti to release calming vibes to help Neku relax, and after he started them off, Neku was able to add his own flair to the new patch of mural Hanekoma was creating. Though they added quite a bit of art to the wall, the last piece they added was an artistic rendition of Neku’s own headphones, with angel wings spread out behind them. With Neku’s Imagination subconsciously put into the paint, the tag would inspire those who saw it to use their individual talents to seek out and expand their horizons. Of course, Neku wasn’t aware of this; he couldn’t read the Imagination imprinted in art the way Hanekoma could, and wasn’t even aware that he was adding it. But he had, and although Hanekoma was proud enough of Neku for taking that step and putting his artwork out into the world, he was even prouder that Neku’s art would inspire those to chase the same journey he had, and ultimately take similar steps into making the world a bigger, brighter, more passionate and dynamic place than it was before.

— Unfortunately, Neku was killed a mere three days later.

— This history, the time they spent together between the long Game and his second death, is the reason why Neku told Coco that there was “no one he trusted more” when she questioned why he was going to see Hanekoma about what was going on. Neku didn’t trust Hanekoma only because of the help he provided during the long Game, but also because of all Hanekoma had done for him since then. The late night talks, the place to crash, the promise of an upcoming part-time gig, the advice, the wall tagging. Hanekoma was there for Neku in a way that Neku’s parents never were, and though Neku would rather die than verbalize this to Hanekoma (because he would die, of embarrassment, if he did), it still meant the world to him. Hanekoma provided him solace and sanctuary when he needed it most. He wasn’t just a “sort of guardian” for Players playing the Game, but was also a guardian for Neku in the RG. There was no one Neku trusted more. If anyone could (and would) help him, it was Hanekoma.

— Unfortunately, that didn’t stop Coco from shooting Neku point-blank right in front of the mural they tagged together. 

— Naturally, Hanekoma didn’t want to take this lying down, but also his ability to help Neku was rather limited. As Producer, he had many powers, but returning Players to the RG was not one of them. So he did what he could do; after Shinjuku’s Inversion, he went to discuss the matter with the Composer. He asked, point blank, what Neku’s fate would be, now that he had been killed by Coco and cast back into the UG again. And Joshua, after a moment of thought, shrugged and looked away. “He served his purpose . . . but I don’t need him anymore.”

— To say that wasn’t the answer Hanekoma wanted to hear was an understatement. Of course, he knew that Joshua wasn’t being entirely truthful; not only was it rare for Joshua to be direct with his thoughts and feelings (especially if those thoughts and feelings suggested that he cared about someone else on some level), but Hanekoma was savvy enough to be able to tell when someone wasn’t being entirely truthful with him. Call it an extra facet of his extrasensory perception. He knew that Joshua was not going to leave Neku at the mercy of those who would seek to erase him from Shibuya altogether. However, he also knew that what Joshua was saying was that he had no intentions of returning Neku to the RG either. And in Hanekoma’s opinion, that . . . wasn’t exactly great, to say the least. Neku had been through a lot already, and he had so much more life to live, so much more potential to realize. And while time spent in the remains of Shinjuku would allow his extransensory perception to grow exponentially (thereby giving him the firepower needed to fight back against those who would seek to erase him), it would also cut him off from all the connections he had made, and being locked in isolation like that would not only shoulder him with even more psychological and emotional trauma, but would also significantly hamper his emotional growth and development. It wasn’t good for him, and it wasn’t right. He deserved to live his life. And so while Joshua wouldn’t do something about it, at least not yet . . . Hanekoma decided that he had to try. He couldn’t return Neku to the RG, but he could at least get him out of Shinjuku. He could do that much.

— . . . or at least, he could have, had the Higher Plane not detected him attempting to interfere with the remnants of Shinjuku. Not only was this out of bounds, but this discovery led to the discovery of everything else he had done during the long Game, and he was summoned back to the Atrium of Judgment to stand trial (and then sentenced to imprisonment in the Chamber of the Fallen for his crimes). He was allowed a psychic link to Shibuya so that he could still perform his duties as Producer, writing reports on everything that unfolded in the city, but he wasn’t able to interfere. He couldn’t help Neku escape Shinjuku, or offer him any aid—even just a listening ear—once he got back to Shibuya. All he could do was watch.

— Well . . . mostly.

— After his return to the RG after his three year imprisonment in Shinjuku and the Game in Shibuya that followed, Neku . . . he could have gone back to stay with his folks. He could have. He knew that there had been a funeral for him, that his folks had moved on from his death, but none of that had taken place anymore due to Joshua’s merging of the timelines (or whatever it was that he had done). But Neku . . . didn’t want to go back to his parents’ house. His plan had been to save up money in his final years of high school so that he could get a place of his own (or at least pay rent to Hanekoma by working at Wildkat), but that plan was ruined due to the timeline Joshua had selected not coming with a stockpile of savings for him to use to get his own place. Even so, returning back to his folks wasn’t something he felt comfortable with. They didn’t remember his death, or recognize his absence; they were as distant and cool toward him as ever. But between his own goals being shattered at his feet and everything he had been through, the idea of living with two people who tolerated him at best and whom he actively fought with at worst just . . . didn’t sit right with him. He didn’t want to do it. As churlish as it sounded, he just didn’t want to.

— So his first night back, he walked the familiar streets back to Wildkat, which was just as closed as it had been during the Game. This was not surprising to Neku. He had told Beat that he doubted they’d run into Hanekoma on CAT Street not because he knew what happened to Hanekoma (he didn’t), but because he figured that if Hanekoma was around to help, he would have helped Neku escape Shinjuku way sooner than he had. Hanekoma would have never abandoned or left him hanging without good reason. He just wasn’t that kind of person. But although Wildkat was closed, and there was no hope of a familiar face and a comforting cup of coffee waiting for him if he knocked on the door . . . well . . .

— Neku’s powers had, as Joshua had banked on, grown expontentially in Shinjuku, enough so that he could now use them to some degree in the RG. With enough focus, he was able to use his telekinesis to unlock Wildkat’s door and let himself inside, closing and locking it behind him. It was empty, and a bit dusty; but when he climbed the stairs and unlocked the door leading into the apartment, he found everything pretty much as he remembered it, right down to some of his old textbooks still sitting on the kitchen table.

— He didn’t cry, but his throat choked up.

— That night, Neku crashed on the couch in the living room just as he always did. But the next morning he awoke to find himself in Hanekoma’s old bed, a note and two sets of keys on the nightstand beside him.

‘Phones, Take care of the place while I’m gone. — H. Sanae’

— Neku didn’t know why Hanekoma left him a note instead of waking him up to talk in person. He didn’t know whether he felt more confused or upset about that fact, either. But he did know that he trusted Hanekoma, more than anyone. And if Hanekoma was going to give him the keys to Wildkat and ask him to look after the place while he was gone . . . wherever he was, then Neku would do it. No questions asked. 

— It had, after all, already felt like home to him for a while now.

[atinysunbaby]

Meant to be | Choi San 🖤

Warnings : Cursing, violence, mention of rape.

Words count : 2.2 k

Previous 《 Prologue

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Present

My cheeks are burning from the salty tears escaping my eyes. A tightening feeling in my chest growing by the minute. The sobs keep escaping me, making my body move uncontrollably. Chocking from the sharp inhales and shaking from the cold temperature. This moment, forever will be imprinted in my mind. Those images I wish I could forget, unfortunately will hunt me till my last breath.

I suppose it's what most people feel too when they lose their parents. I wanted to deny it, but I saw their bodies. They were cold, bruised, bloody and no longer held any signs of life.

The last time a saw them, I didn't bother much to say goodbye to them. Only telling them to enjoy their little vacation in the woods. I was more exited about being alone then making them know how much I loved them. Now it's too late, I'll never be able to see their faces again, hear their voices, feel their arms around me when I need them the most.

I woke up to my cellphone ringing this morning, answering grumpily, thinking it was my mom who disturbed me from my sleep. It was actually the cops telling me to come to the hospital, but I wish it would've been her instead. I wish she could annoy me every morning now, but it's over. She isn't here anymore and neither is my dad.

I'm in my room, at this moment, crying my heart out. I ran out of the hospital immediately after seeing their corpses. They wanted me to identifie them, but I left with people screaming for me to comeback. I guess they probably know from my reaction, that it was indeed my mom and dad.

People keep calling me on my phone, but I don't answer. I'm laying on the floor, looking at the ceiling, waiting for my sadness to subside. I know that won't happen anytime soon, but it's the only way for me to calm down. Being surrounded by people telling me how sorry they are for my loss. A bunch of fake assholes making me feel even worse about the situation definitely won't make anything better.

Slowly my eyes get heavy, I try to fight the exhaustion but fail miserably. I fall asleep on the cold floor of my room, my window open and the sound of rain filling my ears. All of this crying definitely used up a lot of my energy.

The car crash, I wasn't there and I have no idea of what happened. But I see it, something is in the middle of the road and dad just told mom a joke. They're laughing.. until they hit that thing, an animal maybe. It goes right through the window and kill my dad instantly, but as for my mom. The car rolls off the road and fall down a small cliff. Mom's still alive, she's in pain, blood everywhere, she's crying for her husband to open his eyes and answer her. She keeps screaming that she can't feel him anymore? His presence? Her breathing is getting worse the more she panics. Suddenly the door on her side opens and something stabs her in the chest, putting a end to her desperate cries. Blood is streaming down her chin, her eyes looking directly through mine while she takes her last breath.

I open my eyes to see nothing but darkness. I frantically search for a sign of light, I reach around with my hands. My eyes are open wide and my breath shaky, until my fingers brush against an object. I stop every movement, slowly gripping it and letting a breath of relieve when I realise it's my phone.

I turn it on to see a ton of messages and missed calls. One standing out, my aunts name, my mom's sister. I never talked to her, but mom insisted on giving me her number. I look around my room and stand up to look outside the window, only to notice that it's night time. The reason of the darkness and freezing temperature. I close it and turn the lights on in my room. Then I sit on the corner of my bed and hesitate a few minutes while looking at the screen in front of me. My fingers finaly press on call. A few rings later, Aunt Kath's voice is heard. "Y/N! Y/N is it you?"

"Yes it's me.. why did you cal-" I'm cut off by a loud sob. My eyes widen in confusion, but I soon remember that my mom, her sister is no longer a part of this world. I sigh and wait for her to stop crying on the other side of the line. "S-sweetie- where are you? Are you safe? You're not alone ar-"

"Kath, my parents just died. I'm obviously not partying right now, but I'm okay.. I guess.." She stays silent for the next few seconds, my blunt answer probably wasn't expected, but it's understandable. "Sweetheart-I uhh.. you have no one to stay with right? So.. your mom made me your godmother, i-in case anything happened to her.. will you come live w-with me, here in Korea?"

It takes some time to process what just came out of her mouth, my eyebrows are furrowed. Many feelings are fighting to take control of my body, but the one that wins is frustration. "W-what?.."

"She told me to take care of you if she wasn't there anymore... It was just a precaution, but I guess it really happened." She says with a small voice, trying not to upset me further. Judging from my lack of response, she can tell I'm not that excited about this new information. "I asked you, but it ins't really a choice that you have. It's an obligation, you can't stay alone out ther-"

I hang up, not wanting to listen even for one more second. I need some time to think about it. She's right, I don't have much of a choice. I turned seventeen not too long ago and I don't have any family member here. At least none that I know of. I sigh defeated, once again pressing on my godmother's contact.

She picks up not even a second later, as if she knew I was gonna call her back. She doesn't say a word, waiting for me to start talking. I clear my throat after freeing my lower lip from my teeth. "How will I get there? How about my clothes and everything else in the house? My parents' funera-"

"I'll take care of everything you don't have to worry, just bring the necessary and I'll transfer some money on your account so you can pay for your plane ticket. As for the ride to my house, my boyfriend will pick you up" She spend a whole hour explaining to me how everything will go and I agree after hesitating for a while. If my mom gave Kath the role of godmother, she must trust her. So I will trust her too, anyways I don't really have a reason not to. She's been nice till now and she'll even welcome me in her house, she's taking me in. "Thank you Kath, I really appreciate it. I don't know what I would've done if I was all alone."

Days later

I prepared all my stuff, ready to fly to Korea. It took me a while to accept, but eventually I warmed up to it. It's an opportunity for me, to start over. A new life full of adventure, new environment and culture. I want to explore the world so why not start there.

Unfortunately though, I had to say goodbye to all my friends. We cried and spend the last few days together. We promised to text each other everyday and not to forget about one another. Sad thing is, my friends aren't the only ones I need to leave behind. It's hard to leave the place I grew up in, my house, my neighbourhood, my city, everything.

In a few hours, everything I ever knew will all be in the past. Only the memories will stay, the rest, all gone. So the day my parents died, I didn't only lose them, but my life too. The life they gave me. Now, I have to make a new one, by myself.

Landing in Korea

The flight was boring and quite annoying, I didn't know what to do. A baby cried for what felt like years and a couple had an argument at some point. Then the person next to me started to snore so loudly I thought the plane was crashing. I'm glad to finaly be on the ground, the loud voices of people speaking indistinctly seeming to sooth me from what I went through previously.

I sit on one of the chairs in the airport waiting for James, my godmother's boyfriend. He'll drive me to their house, apparently Kath arranged a room for me already. She doesn't have any kid, so she's looking forward to having me over.

"Y/N!!" I jump from the chair almost falling on my ass. I luckily manage to stay on my two feet and not make a fool of myself. Upon hearing a chuckle, I turn around and see an old looking dude smirking at me, maybe in his late forties. "Umm.. Hi can I help you?"

"James, I came to pick you up remember?" He asks while pointing at himself. I'm still unsure, he's looking at me weirdly. I can feel an odd vibe from him. It makes me feel uncomfortable, but I push it aside and nod before following him.

We enter his rusty jeep, the doors creaking when moving. Despite the outside looking a bit ugly, the inside is clean. The only negative point would be the smell, cigarette and..alcohol? Paying a bit more attention to the smell though, it doesn't only come from the jeep. The man next to me is even worst, it seems that he might shower rarely. Subtly, I bring my sweater paws to my nose, looking outside to distract myself.

"So, Y/N! How you holding up?" His loud and deep raspy voice makes me jump for the second time. I turn a bit a towards him not to be impolite and think before answering him. "I guess it's a bit easier then I expected. I didn't think that I'd feel any better, but after a few days it prove me wrong. But I feel bad, to already move on.."

He hums next to me, nodding his head lazily. I wait for him to add something, but the car is filled with silence. I'm relieved he doesn't speak further, not really being in the mood to have a whole conversation, especially with someone I don't know. So, slowly I turn back around towards the window. My mind drifting to the events that happened in just a few weeks, everything is so fucked up. Fortunately, Kath and James decided to help me.

About an hour past since we came out of the airport. We just entered a forrest, James informed me that it'll take a while still. He insisted that I should go to sleep and when I'll wake up, we'll be home. I ponder for some time, but eventually agree. It doesn't take long for me to fall asleep due to not being able to get much sleep in the plane.

I wake up when the car come to an halt, a man's voice coming from next to me. Curses escaping his mouth, confused I open my eyes. The events from the previous hours coming back to me, tears threatening to escape my eyes. My body shaking slightly from fear, uncontrollably.

The ride was a lot longer then what James had told me it would be and I slept, only to be woken up by a hand covering my mouth. Horrible things happened in that car and it wasn't a nightmare, no mather how much I wish it was one. He said he would tell Kath it took us some time because of the traffic and the airport. Then he threatened to kill me if I open my mouth.

I can't let him see me crying, I don't want him to have another reason to hurt me. Despite being terrified and completely drained from energy, I swallow the bill in my throat and wipe the tears from my eyes. While I'm breaking down, next to me James is whistling and turning the car off. Announcing with a loud scream to Kath that we arrived.

"Omg! Y/N! Sweetie you really are here." Kath comes out of the house shouting happily, her arms open, waiting for me to give her a hug. I rush to open the door, but a hand grabs my arm. His nails dig in my skin and I whimper, both from fear and pain. "Remember. You talk, you die."

He puts my bag in my hand, pretending to be helping me. Finally I escape the horrible vehicle and run into my godmother's arms with a heavy heart. The second she engulfs me in her warmth, sobs spill from deep within me. She cries with me but not for the same reason. She cries because she lost her sister and now I'm here. I, cry because I've lost my parents, I lost my house, my friends. Because I've been raped less then an hour ago. Because I feel completely broken and hopeless. The new life I wanted for myself, only starts with even more problems then I had before.

Next 》 Chapter 2

[giorno-plays-piano]

Sleep tight

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, home invasion, non-consensual drug use, allusion to kidnapping.

Words: 4163.

Summary: You know someone tried to break into your apartment, but no one believes you since you live in the very same building as famous Captain America. Who is willing to risk it?

P.S. Inspired by the Door Lock.

____________

You were coming back from work late again, carrying a paper bag with fresh chicken nuggets, French fries and two butter croissants you intended to leave for the morning. It was your little ritual - every time you worked long hours you went to buy some fast food afterwards instead of cooking youself a dinner. You had neither strength nor desire to spend your evening in the kitchen.

Funny, you thought, how many people were walking the same street as you, and you felt like you were alone in the whole world, nonetheless. Every day was exactly the same: you were waking up feeling groggy and exhausted, making youself coffee and leaving for work where you spent most of your time; you looked for excuses to stay late just because you didn't want to come back to your empty apartment where it was always eerie silent. Then you read some book you ordered from Amazon or Indigo, had a glass of water and went to sleep. Your life was like an endless limbo or a time loop.

Watching a few school girls giggling and taking out there cellphones and cameras, you sighed. That poor Steve Rogers living the same building as you had it much, much worse. At least you didn't have any crazy fans following you and making photos of your windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

"Hey you there! What are you doing?" Someone's grumpy voice cut through the silence, and all those girls suddenly ran, laughing nervously and clenching their cameras.

It was one of your neighbors, a man in his 60s who was living two floors beneath yours, who walked to the building with a grocery bag in his hand.

"I swear to God next time I'm gonna take their phones and call their parents right away!" He grunted, shaking his bold head.

"I'll be there to give you a hand, Mr. Jones." You smiled at him, and he let out a chuckle, opening the door for you. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, dear."

Well, today wasn't that bad. Those girls couldn't do much harm. You remembered the day when you saw huge scary men dressed in black walking the corridor to Captain's apartment - it was way more frightening than a couple of silly students making photos of his balkony. But, regardless of how dangerous it could be to live so close to probably America's most famous superhero, the rent was doubled in a week and became three times higher in two months. You were lucky your landlady was a very compassionate woman who didn't raise the price immediately after he moved in this building.

Opening the door to your apartment with a key, you took off your shoes and put the bag on a little side table. God, you wanted to sleep so bad.

Barely eating a few nuggets you went to bed without opening the new book you bought.

The next morning you didn't feel much better, though. It was like you went to bed at 5 am instead of retiring early. Your mind was hazy. You were almost squiffy though you hadn't been drinking alcohol for a month or so.

Damn, you needed to do something about that lifestyle of yours. It was obviously unhealthy.

You spent one more day in the office doing useless work no one cared about. Coming back home felt as lonely as never before, and you almost cried in the dark before taking a hold of yourself and entering the building. There were no girls with the cameras today.

Laying on your bed, you stared at the glass of water on your nightstand. You didn't even remember refilling it in the morning. How much did you remember at all before arriving at work?

Oh no, you weren't going to live like that anymore. No more working overtime. No more fast food. No more weeping in your room with the lights off. You were a decent human being who didn't deserve to live like a recluse. Tomorrow evening you were going to dress up and go for a glass of wine in that little restaurant you were passing by every day. And in the weekend it would be good to give a call to your cousin and ask for a visit.

You hummed, looking at the clock glimming in the darkness of the room. It was already midnight, but you didn't feel even a bit sleepy. It was odd. Staring at the ceiling, you tried counting sheep but failed miserably after two hundreds. It was then when you heard someone's footsteps behind your door and chewed your lips. Was it Mrs. Abebe who lived next to you? She was never coming that late. Not that you remembered.

You were probably imagining things since the sound of footsteps died, but you didn't hear anyone opening the door or, in fact, moving at all. You were simply tired from all that stress.

That was what you were thinking when you heard someone inserting the key into your lock. You stilled, your eyes almost popping out of the sockets. What was happening? What was that?

Then the sound of the lock opening made you jump.

"Who is that?!" You screamed at the top of your voice and grabbed the lamp from your nightstand. "Who's there?!"

Then everything went silent once again, the door still closed in front of you. You couldn't hear any footsteps, couldn't feel anyone's presence just behind the door as if no one tried to force it open just a few seconds ago. You didn't know how much time you spent standing there, a heavy lamp in your hands to strike down the intruder, but no one had opened the door.

In the end, you clenched your teeth and slowly moved forward, pressing your ear to the cold metal - there were no sounds coming behind it whatsoever. Then you glanced through the peephole and saw only a row of doors just like yours. The stranger was gone.

You couldn't sleep after that, of course. You locked the door again, moved your heavy drawer to block it, and started calling the cops. Whoever was it, a thief or some creep, you didn't want to sit there and wait when someone gonna break into your apartment.

Police did nothing, of course. There were no cameras in the corridor to check whether someone was truly walking there, and, except that, they could help little with your situation. The camera outside showed no one entering the building, too.

In fact, they were so skeptical after hearing your story they almost made you cry. Why would anyone want to break in? You had pretty much nothing valuable except for a few gadgets and a little bit of money.

"No one would risk coming close to the place where Steve Rogers lives, ma'am," one of the cops informed you, irritated at your persistence. "You probably imagined it in your sleep."

No, you didn't. You heard it with your own ears, and no policeman could make you doubt that. You didn't care whether that freak was afraid of Steve Rogers, you just needed to be safe.

Next morning you didn't go to work. Instead you called a locksmith company and looked through all those smart lock that cost a fortune, but they were so much better than the pathetic one you had. The guy you were speaking to informed you that, actually, you story wasn't uncommon - New York was full of burglars. He calmed you down a bit by saying that it was probably some rookie who didn't ever hear about Captain America living in the same building.

The smart keyless lock you got installed was pricey but offered a great protection, the guy claimed. As you still shook from what happened earlier, you called your cousin, nevertheless, and went to live in her place for the whole week. Just thinking of what could happen to you that night brought you nightmares.

Who was that? What did that person need from you? Was he really hoping to get anything valuable without even knowing who lived there? Why did they come at night and not during the day when you were at work? God, you were scared to learn the answers.

You were no longer walking the streets alone as your kind cousin brought you to and off work, watching that no one was following you. It was a great relief to know there were no scary dudes around, but you couldn't be calm still. You barely slept at night.

Your cousin was too worried to let you go and live by yourself again even with the new lock installed, so you decided to stay with her for one more week. You just needed to get a few more things from your apartment since last time you left in haste. Of course, you didn't go there alone, your cousin and two of her male friends coming with you just in case something was to happen.

You screamed when you saw your new lock smashed to pieces, its black plastic parts laying on the floor right in front of your door.

This time police couldn't say anything about you imagining things, and the investigation had finally started. What scared you even more was that Mrs. Abebe had sweared the lock was in perfect condition when she returned home yesterday, and she didn't hear anything at all last night, a few other neighbors saying the same. No one knew how it happened and who could it be.

"But I just don't understand how could someone try this right under Captain's nose." One of the policemen huffed and puffed.

"Steven Rogers has been on a mission since last week." A woman said angrily, watching the guy with disgust. You vaguely remembered her name was Kate and she lived on the same floor as Steve. "Please don't tell me you need Captain America just to make you do your job."

With so many people expecting someone to break into their homes and fearing for their lives, it was easier to demand installing cameras in the corridors everywhere in the building. More than that, a few cameras were installed in your apartment too. A new biometric lock was now attached to your door, but you weren't sure it could keep you safe. It all felt unreal.

Of course, you were living with your cousin. She not only didn't protest against it, but refused to let you go anywhere at all. The only place you were still coming to was the office your worked in, and she was bringing you there and driving you home all the time.

The police said that the criminal didn't leave any fingerprints anywhere, and, most importantly, they didn't see any stranger entering the house the day your lock was smashed. It probably meant it was someone who stayed in the building. When they said that, Mrs. Abebe moved out the apartment the very same day and came to live with her son. You felt both pity and guilt. If you weren't there, she could live in that place peacefully like before.

Although the stranger didn't show up, the old policeman handling your case said something was very wrong there, he could feel it in his bones. This person wasn't a simple burglar, for sure. Although the policeman asked you to come back to your apartment - of course, under the watchful eyes of his team ready to defend you - to somehow provoke the criminal, you didn't agree. You valued your life too much to become a bait.

You just wanted to keep living with your cousin, especially when you were finally able to sleep again. You still felt groggy after, but you didn't consider it too important after all that happened to you.

However, you had to change your mind when one day you woke up and saw the toilet seat up. There was no man living at your cousin's place, and she didn't let anyone come over for a week at least.

The stranger had found you. He sneaked into the house all the same like before, but now it was also your cousin's life at stake, not just yours.

You cried and wept and prayed until you were a complete mess, your head heavy from the shouting. It wasn't a burglar who followed you - it was a stalker. The policemen were deeply concerned with the truth, but they gave you hope - stalkers rarely left their victim under such circumstances, and they were most certain they would capture the intruder the next time this psycho showed up.

You agreed to return to your old apartment. What else was there to do to keep your dear cousin safe?

It was as empty and silent as before, but now the atmosphere turned sinister. You were afraid to touch your own things, thinking of the sick bastard who touched them - the one who touched you in your sleep. No one had told you about it, but you were certain this person had been there with you many times before you caught him. Your routine had been very much the same during the whole year, and they knew it and used it to their advantage. Your stalker had seen you, touched you, done something to you. He was there all the time, and you didn't know. The cameras police installed showed everything that was happening in the apartment except for bathroom, so you tried to avoid going there as much as you could. Yes, you were on display all the time, but you weren't ashamed. You were ecstatic that cops were watching you every goddamn second.

When it was time to get to bed, you were too nervous. The police expected your stalker to show up, and although you had acquired the gun, you didn't feel safe even the slightest bit. Holding the heavy piece of metal in your shaking hand, you gulped down water from the glass and layed on the bed, watching the door. No one would hurt you. You had a gun, a group of cops waiting right next door, and your cousin who rented a room in a hotel next to your building. You were safe. You just had to stay awake before this sick motherfucker showed up.

But when he did, you slept very soundly with your head on the pullow, your gun on the bed sheets close to you.

When you woke up, that morning became your worst nightmare. Your gun was gone. The toilet seat was up again.

How outrageous you had been when you found out all your supposed guards had fallen asleep last night, drugged by something they didn't even know. Of course, there was nothing on the cameras. In fact, there were no cameras left in your apartment and the corridor whatsoever because your stalker had them all removed without even showing himself. How did they do it? What superhuman being did they had to be to twist both the police and you around their finger?

Well, maybe it was exactly the case. This intruder was too extraordinary. What if it wasn't you they were after? What if they were really trying to challenge Captain's America authority? And you were just unlucky enough to become a victim. You were picked most likely because you had a routine you had been following for a long time, and it made you an easy target. In the end, this intruder didn't rape you. He didn't hurt you. He didn't steal from you. He was coming to, what, lay close to you on the bed? Put up a toilet seat? No, it wasn't your attention he was after. He wanted to be acknowledged by the hero everyone was crazy about. Maybe he was like those girls who kept making the photos of Steve's balkony.

Once the realization hit you, everything became so much better. If he wanted the attention of Captain America, he would get it, Kate had assured you. How did she discover what was happening and how she could make him aware of your situation you didn't know, but soon those scary men dressed in black were walking the corridors of the building instead of policemen. Cameras were set up again while you were guarded at all times. Captain was returning tomorrow, you were told.

They wanted you to stay in the apartment, still. Actually, they clearly implied that you'd be put there regardless of your own wish because it was for the best. They were not some incompetent policemen, they said. You'd be protected regardless of what was going to happen to your stalker. This time you were ready to believe them - these guys looked like they could crack man's skull with just one hand - but your cousin insisted you had to do something, too. Funny enough, she gave you a teddy bear and told there's camera inside it. You could see everything it recorded with your phone.

Well, it couldn't hurt, could it? You placed the bear on one of the shelves just to make her feel better.

But nothing happened during the night. For some reason, you slept like a rock again, but there was no indication the intruder had been in your apartment. You called your new guards, and they confirmed everything was clear. They were confused with your sleeping habits, though. It was odd you could sleep so soundly during such moments.

Well, maybe that was it. Captain America was coming today, and now the intruder knew they were going to have his full attention. Maybe it was enough for them, and you would be set free after all those weeks of torture.

"I still can't believe he didn't show up last night." You said nervously and wiped your forehead with the back of your hand. "I know it's stupid, but I feel like someone's going to jump at me when I'll be leaving the building."

"It's not stupid." Your cousin sounded concerned. "You're the bravest person I've ever met. I'd ask all those guys to go fuck themselves if they wanted me to spend one more minute in that place."

"I know, I know." You forced a smile as if she could see you. "But nothing happened, you see? I really think that... person wanted Captain, not me."

"You can't know it for sure, honey. You have to be careful before they catch that motherfucker, ok?"

"Yeah, yeah. I promise."

"Good. I'm going to buy some food, so I'll give you a call in half an hour."

"Sure! Please take care too."

"Of course!"

She hung up, and you were left alone with your thoughts again. You stared down your phone, thinking about all the things that happened to you. You wanted to know who was doing it to you more than anything else. Who was that person? The police said it was most likely to be a man in his thirties. What was his name? How did he look? What made him do all these things to you? Did he mock you for your stupidity when you didn't even realize he was always so close to you all that time?

Rubbing your eyes, you thought of the cameras and that teddy bear sitting on a shelf. Suddenly, you got curious how you looked in your sleep, what that intruder saw when he entered your apartment late at night. You opened the app on your phone without a second thought and pressed your finger to the screen to see the recording.

It was peaceful. You didn't snore and didn't move on the bed, laying there as if you were dead. Your drool wasn't running onto the pillow, and you were oddly glad you almost looked like a sleeping beauty. Well, at least at night your face didn't look so tired.

Then you saw the door on your screen moving. You chocked on air, staring at the tall muscular man entering your apartment so carelessly like he lived here too. What was this? How could it happen? They said no one entered your apartment last night. They said no one was even close to your door!

The man was wearing a cap that didn't allow you to look at his face, a dark blue bomber and jeans flattering his muscular figure. He was even bigger than those men guarding you, and you gasped when he stared directly into the camera as if he knew there was one in the teddy bear your cousin brought. But nothing shocked you as much as the face of the stalker.

It was Steve Rogers, the very same Captain America everyone loved and respected. He took of his shoes quietly and then left his bomber on the rack. When he turned his face to the camera, he was smiling and walking closer to it slowly like a predator knowing its prey couldn't escape.

He took the stuffed animal in his hands and brought it closer.

"I'm so glad you're watching, honey."

You whimpered, a tear running down your face. No, it couldn't be true. It just couldn't. He was supposed to be the hero, not some deranged stalker ruining your life.

"Sorry for being later than usual, but you've made it a bit harder for me, you know that?" His smile was so sweet it could make you think he's talking to his fiancee, not some girl he was stalking for god knew how many months. "But don't worry, I'm not blaming you. I know it's been tough for you too, honey."

He glanced back at you sleeping on your bed and came closer to you. You held your breath and clamped a hand over your mouth in horror.

"It's actually my fault because I shouldn't be doing this before marrying you... but I just couldn't help myself. You're not mad at me, are you?" You realized he was laying down the bed with a teddy bear in his hand, and then you saw him kissing your forehead. "I know you're not. Thank you, sweetheart."

Looking at your phone with terrified and tearful eyes, you felt like you couldn't take it anymore, but something inside you forced you to keep watching when Steve had gently lowered the straps of your top and planted an open-mouthed kiss on your neck, massaging your breast. You wanted to drop the phone to the floor, to throw it out the window, to break it against the wall, yet all you did was gawking at the recording with watery eyes and sobbing. He was insane. You saw it in his eyes - he wasn't going to question his own actions. Steve Rogers was sure he did the right thing when he broke into your apartment.

"You probably gonna have some questions when you'll see the recording." He continued as he put the toy on the bed to make you see better all the things he was doing to you. "You have never woken up at night because I've been giving you some medicine, but don't worry, it's perfectly organic and doesn't do any harm to your body." You felt your stomach twisting. "Sometimes if you forgot to drink water from the glass I had to press a cloth dampened in chloroform to your face. I don't like doing it, so please remember to stay hydrated before going to bed, honey."

You wailed like a child, rubbing your eyes with one hand and having a phone in the other. Why was it happening to you? What had you done? You had never met Steve Rogers in the first place. How did he know about your mere existence?

"But I won't need to keep doing it since our honeymoon is so close. Once we get married, we won't have to do anything like that anymore. I know you're tired of waiting, and I'm sorry I couldn't make it earlier." He kissed the top of your head and inhaled the scent of your hair. "We'll be leaving tomorrow. As for tonight, you'd have to sleep alone, but I'll be right here with you, so please don't worry."

Confused, you saw him moving with the teddy bear in his hand - the man left your bed and put the straps of your top back on your shoulders, covering your body with a blanket. He kissed your cheek one last time before returning the stuffed animal to its place and putting his bomber and shoes back on, but then...

Then he layed down on the floor and got under your bed. Though you kept watching the recording, you saw nothing else before the sun rose and you started waking up finally. You played the video further on, but nothing was happening still except you walking out to meet those men who were supposed to keep you safe. When you came back, you ate your breakfast and called your cousin.

You dropped your phone on the bed and stared at your legs, shaking so much your knees were knocking together.

He was still waiting for you under your bed.

Part 2

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@void-hoechlin @abyssaint @lovelydarkdaydream

_____________

[grimmjowkurosakidrake]

Fluttering down, fluttering love

Summary: Post Gaiden, Sasuke finds Sakura in the middle of an ill fated mission.

Length: 3501 words 

Relationships: Sasuke Uchiha/Sakura Uchiha, Sasuke Uchiha/Sakura Haruno

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: NSFW 

Disclaimer: This fic is a commision for the really kind @talesandwonder but really, the idea was so good that I couldn’t stop writting XD

If you want to commission me or any of the other wonderfull writers of @witcheswritings don’t hesitate to DM us!

Sakura will never stop being in awe of the sheer amount of safe places the Uchiha hold around the five great shinobi countries. There’s something to be said about a clan who expanded so far outside of their territory; Building strongholds, secret caves, and cabins deep in the woods around almost every single shinobi populated (or even unpopulated) territory.

This is where Sakura feels somehow estranged from the Uchiha clan. She’s never been outside of Konoha in a mission and thought about making arrangements so her daughter or other relatives could find solace outside the village.

She often thinks about taking Sarada on dates at her favorite dango place, she usually has a camera ready for any important moment in her life.

But she rarely thinks about helping her on missions, just like her own parents rarely talked with her about her own missions, back when she was a genin.

She’s not like Sasuke.

After marrying him, the Uchiha disclosed an entire map of the five great shinobi countries to her. It was an old thing, dusty and well loved, obviously a family heirloom passed to the boy only by merit alone of being the last Uchiha.

“The blue dots are safe places,” Sasuke told her, on a spring night in one of those lucky moments of their journey together when they could spend the night in an inn, change their clothes and take well needed bath. “The red ones are settlements of people who will help you when they see the Uchiha symbol on your back.” He murmured placing a steady hand on the newly embroidered mark on the back of her red shirt. “No questions asked,” he finished, whispering against her ear.

This information was supposed to be for her ears only, so she could be safe anywhere without worrying about being on enemy territory.

Because she was an Uchiha and the Uchiha kept their own safe.

It’s all thanks to this conversation that when she and Sasuke find themselves in need of hiding from their enemies, with her husband heavy and passed out on her shoulders as she tries to drag them both through the heavy rain and into the small cabin well hidden in the depths of the woods north of the land of water. Sakura doesn’t waste any time trying to find a hidden spot.

She already has every spot on the Uchiha map committed to memory.

The cabin is small, completely furnished but not properly stocked, the door is locked too, and Sakura doesn’t have enough chakra to hold her husband and break the door at the same time.

She’s strong enough, thought.

The medic-nin ends up kicking the door open, Sasuke barely wakes up at this, still in a feverish state but awake enough to smirk at his wife’s show of strength.

“Aren’t you glad that we found each other, wife?” Asks the shinobi, holding onto Sakura’s shoulder, trying to stand by himself but failing miserably as his wounded legs fail him.

They’re both drenched to the bone, sweat, blood and rain water mixing in dangerous concoction, putting them at risk of catching a cold, on top of everything.

“Yes,” She chuckles, kissing the side of his head before dragging Sasuke to the dusty, old bed waiting for them at the center of the small cabin. “I always love to reunite with you while being surrounded by rouge ninja, dear.”

She allows the dark haired man to sit on the bed as she limps and closes the door, struggling to perform a simple sealing jutsu on the entrance.

She’s almost completely depleted of chakra, having been fighting for more than an hour alone with more than forty rouge shinobi without a moment to breath or heal herself.

She has burn wounds all over her right arm and leg, her own left leg sensitive from two separated stab wounds courtesy of her enemies.

She hasn’t been able to heal herself properly, not with every single shinobi on her tail and well aware of her identity, with each one of them attacking her at the same time.

Sacrificing their bodies and their lives for the chance of taking down one of Konoha’s three neo sannin.

They obviously knew every single detail about her.

Sakura Haruno can heal herself from almost anything in less than ten seconds, her inhuman strength only paralleled by her quick strategizing in battle, and her chakra control a feat most shinobi twice her age could only dream for.  

Sakura Haruno, also. Would rarely mortally wound an enemy unless pushed to her limit. A deadly weapon with almost no body count to show for it.

When Sasuke found her, she was down to almost thirty men but he had his own tail of rouge shinobi behind him.  

He was already wounded when they found each other in the middle of their own fights. Sasuke, luckily, was not being followed by more than five shinobi and his chakra reserves weren’t low by any means.

He was never one to have mercy on his enemies. As the last of his clan (his family), and a former international criminal, Sasuke Uchiha was not one to rule out murder if it meant saving himself or his loved ones.

With a sigh, Sakura reaches the bed and helps her husband out of his cape and bloody clothes.

He’s bleeding from his right thigh from a katana wound in the form of an almost clean slash across it. He’s probably poisoned if the almost blueish complexion around the three needles still attached to his left shoulder have anything to say about it.

He also has a nasty bruise by the side of his face that could end up developing in a concussion if not treated immediately.

Overall, his injuries are definitely more pressing than her own and even if they weren’t, Sakura would never treat her own husband after herself. Rules of a medic-nin be dammed.

Sasuke of course, would love to object. “You should treat yourself first, Sakura.” He admonishes her as she makes a quick job of removing the needles attached to the shinobi’s shoulders. “My injuries can wait.”

“You’ve been poisoned, dear.” She points out as if it weren’t already obvious, “You definitely can’t wait treatment.”

Sasuke huffs as she opens her poison’s scroll, carefully removing the poison with the aid of a concoction she had stored away on a small vial. “I’m immune to most poisons,” he reminds Sakura, grunting as she injects him with one of her standard antidotes.

“That would make two of us,” she smirks, green soothing chakra oozing off her hands as she makes a quick job of healing the wound on his thigh.

When Sakura is almost ready with the both of them, just finishing with applying some salve on the burns on her arms, Sasuke speaks up. “You shouldn’t have come alone,” he growls from where he’s laying on the bed, still too sore from his injuries and blood lost to help her. “The borders near Rain are still full of rogue shinobi.” He adds, glaring at a blind spot near her. “No matter what Naruto or the other Kage say, the shinobi world is not a place of peace.”

Sakura is strong, but she’s human, a mortal just like him and even Naruto. But more than anything she’s kind. Completely different from anyone of their team. Where everyone at team seven decided to kill for a living, she choose to give life.

If she just killed those men, Sakura would not have been in any trouble, but his wife will never kill anyone if she feels that she doesn’t have to, most of the time she’s reluctant to even mortally wound her enemies.

For what she’s told him, even the death of what he considers a virtual monster: Sasori. Affected her as if the puppet she fought was a living, feeling person.

She felt for him, on his last seconds, cried for him after his death, and learned from him as much as she learned from his grandmother.

She’s a medical ninja at heart, stronger than most, but as far as Sasuke is concerned, Sakura should never have mission alone near the borders of a shinobi village whose culture still revolves around murder and senseless violence.

Sakura huffs, kneeling in front of the fireplace where there’s still some wood from who knows when, it’s a little bit green around the edges so it will be difficult to star a decent fire, but she can do it.

Deeply inhaling and accumulating her chakra at the top of her lungs, Sakura allows herself into breathing the fire her husband passed onto her as if she was his own blood. It was difficult to learn at first; she has to admit. Sakura is not compatible with fire ninjutsu, not even with air ninjutsu.

But people like Kakashi do exist and even if she can’t create a great fireball justsu of the monumental size Sasuke has achieved after years of training. She’s still able to produce enough fire to ignite the fireplace.

“It was supposed to be a recognizance mission,” Mutters the pink haired kunoichi, moving the wood around with the fire iron. “I was not even aware that the place was filled to the brim with rogue ninja.” She sighs, leaving the warmth of the fire to sit alongside her husband on the bed. “If someone told me that there would be shinobi around I would have concealed myself.”

Silently she touches her own hair, then, her forehead, tracing the small diamond tattoo that she earned with years of storing chakra even when her life was at risk.

“I’m not the most discreet looking kunoichi around.” She mutters.

Sasuke sits up on the bed, moving himself so he can be as near her as possible, then, almost in a wary way, the shinobi lifts his only arm, caressing her pink hair with great care.

“The borders of Rain had been invaded for more than a month.” Growls the Uchiha patriarch, not angry at her, of course not.

He’s angry with his Hokage, his best friend.

Naruto must have been aware of this fact. Sasuke somehow manages to be in more contact with the Hokage than with his own daughter and wife.

Even if he promised them to be around more often, to be more in contact with them.

After his short detour in Konoha, when he had an ill fated meeting with a Sarada that didn’t recognise him just like he didn’t recognise her. Sasuke quickly came back to the road, asking Naruto to take better care of Sarada, and informing him that he would be coming back more frequently, if only to start training his daughter as she deserves.

But this past month, Sasuke has only been able to keep correspondence with the Hokage, too apprehensive about his falcons being intercepted by the enemy for him to reach out to Sakura.

It seems that Naruto didn’t have any reserves about exposing their ex teammate to the rogue ninja as himself.

“I’ll have a talk with Naruto.” Finally, concludes Sakura, resting her head on his shoulder. Even if she’s at least a little bit mad with herself for having to be saved by her husband once more. She knows that Naruto didn’t give her enough information.

Sasuke has been giving him information for over a month,  without sending falcons to even her, Naruto should have at least told Sakura to conceal herself.

“That will make it two of us,” he mutters, holding her tight from across her waist. “I can’t believe that idiot.”

“I should have been prepared anyway,” Sighs Sakura, accepting the warm comfort of her husband’s reassuring weight so close to her. “I know the peace treaty doesn’t mean anything more than politics, that I shouldn’t go out of Konoha without concealing myself.”

“It’s not your fault.” Mutters her husband, kissing the side of her head, “You fought with your life for that treaty to be made. You are war a hero, there’s no one more prepared than you.”

“That can’t be true,” she smiles kindly at him.

Sasuke is well known across the shinobi world for being cool and almost, borderline cruel. There’s been more people than Sakura can count warning her about the former criminal. But he is kind to her, he is kind to his daughter.

Sometimes maybe too kind.

There’s something to be said about a merciless murderer who’s able to feel love, who’s capable of kindness.

There’s a lot to be said about the woman who falls in love with him. Always ready to love everyone but herself.

Sasuke sighs “I’ll speak with Naruto.” He concedes, there’s not a lot to be argued when Sakura feels that she has something to prove. “There were at least five A-rank shinobi in the group you fought alone, it’s not your fault when you didn’t even know that you were supposed to fight.”

“You’ve never needed to be briefed before entering enemy’s territory.” She mutters, “you’re always prepared, and so are Kakashi and Sai.”

“You are a medical ninja.” He reminds her, “no matter your rank, you’re always supposed to be part of a team. Especially when dealing with so many powerful ninjas around the area.”

Sakura smiles “Sasuke-kun…” she sighs.

“We will talk with Naruto.” He smiles at her reassuring, “he needs to be reminded of his duties as our Hokage.”

“How did I get so lucky?” Asks Sakura facing him. he smiles at her words as she lifts her hand, carefully moving the hair covering his left eye. “Ino would never believe me,” she laughs.

“Don’t go out ruining my reputation.” He kisses the side of her lips. “I won’t start being nice to anyone out there. Just you.”

Sakura smiles, kissing his closed mouth as he moves away from her face. He grunts but answers the kiss in kind when she holds the back of his neck with one hand and buries her fingers on his hair with the other.

She moans a little when Sasuke licks her bottom lip, and eagerly gives entrance. It’s only when he bites her lower lip that she separates from him.

“You’re hurt, dear.” Admonishes Sakura moaning as Sasuke kisses her neck, licking a long strip from her clavicle to her chiselled jaw.

Sasuke only smirks as an answer. “You’re a really good doctor, wife.” He growls, biting the lobe of her ear.

He plays with the hem of the mesh crop top she wears underneath her qipao long shirt, drumming his fingers against the center of her chest from underneath it, waiting for her to act, as he kisses her deeply.

She barely hesitates before moving him aside with a gentle push on his own naked chest, making a quick job of taking off her top.

He smirks holding her by the waist when she gingerly sits on his lap. “I am a good doctor.” She whispers in his ear, caressing the prominent bulge on his boxers with a firm, steady hand.

Sasuke groans at the feeling, urgently kissing the top of her breasts with wet, open mouthed kisses, lifting his hips and uselessly trying to rut against her hand as she presses her thumb against his already erect cock. “Sakura.” He groans, playfully biting her right nipple.

“What?” She smiles, slowly caresing the sides of his memeber, playing with the head of his cock where a wet patch is already staining his underwear. 

There’s a heated glint in her green eyes, clearly amused by his neediness. By the way he groans when she moves away from him in order to take off his boxers.

“Don’t tease.” He growls holding her neck, then her waist again. Forcing her body underneath him.

“I’m not.” She pouts, lifting her back from the bed when her husband trails barely there kisses from her quivering throat to her stomach.

He easily takes off her pants whith Sakura’s help as she lifts her hips and opens her legs at each side of him.

The lace and silk boy shorts she usually wears undermath her mission clothes are already wet when he kisses the underside of her tights, it doesn’t mean Sasuke will stop there.

Sighing deeply, Sasuke licks a long stripe across her entire clothed sex, holding her clit on the inside of his mouth until she’s burring her fingers on his head and interlacing her legs behind his neck, the talons of her feet digging on his spine.

She hastily removes her fingers from his head to take off her underwear herself. This is what he’s been waiting for.

For Sakura to forget his own pleasure in favor of hers. To overlook him completely as she grips him by the neck and holds his face against her pussy. Forcing him there as Sasuke licks her insides, moving his tongue inside of her core in quick, broad thrusts.

There’s no forcing him, Sasuke loves being here; in between her legs as she moans and demands for more. But the feeling of her manicured nails digging on his scalp, the pain on his back as her legs kick against his skin.

That is the feeling that keeps him rutting against the bed, gasping for breath as he’s not able to hold his owns growls and moans of pleasure at the edging feeling of the barely there pressure of the bed against his cock.

Sakura comes for the first time like this, thrusting hips against her husband’s face, screaming with Sasuke’s mouth holding her clit as his tongue flicks around it without stopping. Not even when she let’s go of his hair or when her juices drip from his neck jaw to his collarbones.

Even when her body falls heavily on the bed, Sasuke lazily kisses her labia to his heart’s content, enjoying her little tremors and gasping moans of over-sensitivity.

“Sasuke-kun…” Sighs Sakura breathlessly holding his jaw. “Stop.” She commands when he tries to fight her grasp on him. “You’re still hurt, honey.” Coos her wife incorporating on the bed and caressing his lower lip with her thumb.

Her voice is soothing but her eyes are burning as she forces him on his back. She kisses him sweetly when her hands grip his cock.

Sasuke can’t help but moan from the depths of his throat as she slowly lowers herself on his member, enjoying the burn and the feeling of finally being full after so much time apart.

With a triumphant groan, Sakura’s hips align with his own “Sakura.” He groans, griping her waist as she bends over him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her knees bending at the sides of his hips.

“It feels so good.” Moans Sakura, her arms resting at the sides of his face, her hips moving without a warning. “I’ve missed this,” she moans against his open mouth.

Slowly, her hands move to the sides of his neck, her tongue peaking out of her open, red lips making his own mouth open up on instinct, gasping when they meet in the middle.

Her hands move to his chest, using him as leverage to rise heavily onto his hips, setting a breathless pace over him. “You’re...” gasps Sasuke, his hands moving to her core, his thumb running small, quick circles on her clit. “So tight,” he moans moving his hips alongside Sakura’s, “so warm.”

There’s warmth coiling at the bottom of his stomach, pressure on his entire chest and his hands moves erratically on her clit. “Sakura!” he screams, unsteadily thrusting into her even when he knows that he should pull out.

She doesn’t respond, her body falling on top of him as her inner walls constrict against his cock and her legs close against him. Sasuke holds her with one arm, embracing her through her moans and quivering espasmodict thrust of oversensitivity, thrusting mindlessly inside her, before coming.

“Sasuke-kun!” Moans Sakura one last time, his grip on her entire body and the warm feeling of her husband filling her, too much for her to remain silent.

There’s a mess of fluids in between them as they cuddle breathless in bed, Sakura’s pink hair tickling the top of his nose.

************......... ************ ************......... ************ ************......... ************ ************......... ************ ************......... ************

The morning after, Sasuke finds Sakura drinking tea with a warm cup of coffee resting by her side. She’s naked from the waist down, her qipao shirt open and resting over her shoulders.

“When are you coming back to Konoha?” He asks, taking the coffee and kissing the top of her head.

“Sarada is on a mission for two weeks.” She answers, smirking “You think we can take down this invasion by then?”

Her smirk is almost feral with confidence, her eyes sharp, just like they were yesterday when she had him on the palm of her hands.

This is the woman he married, Sasuke thinks as he grabs his Katana from the mess of clothes they left las night.

A warrior to her core; confident and strong.

[eldritchamy]

I watched “Happiest Season” and no it fucking wasn’t.

Here’s a review so you don’t have to suffer like I did: if I wasn’t watching it as the host of a movie night, I would not have made it past 20-30 minutes in.

It was very uncomfortable to watch.  I feel like I just spent two hours on a plane with a crying baby.  Except the baby was a homophobic rich white Republican that I was forced to campaign for.  All of the people I watched it with, including myself, found it stressful, anxiety inducing, and deeply unpleasant.  The first thing I did when it was over was warn my best friend not to watch it.

90% of the movie is rich white straight people drama forcing lesbians into the closet.  It’s not fun.  It’s not happy.  It wasn’t enjoyable.  At all.  Watching this was an uncompromisingly depressing and miserable experience.

It was marketed as a romantic comedy and it was neither of those things.   I feel repressed for having seen it.  

Every relationship in this movie is toxic and hard to watch, with the sole exception of two other characters who aren’t part of the family both having much better chemistry with Kristen Stewart’s character than her girlfriend.

Aubrey Plaza playing Gay Aubrey Plaza one of two redeeming things in the movie and she’s in it for about ten minutes, and even one of her scenes was hard for me to sit through (the awkward and dubiously written drag bar scene)  The other 90 minutes are agonizingly drawn out and unbearable.

If you are determined to support this movie because god knows we need more (and MUCH better) representation and we live in a hellscape where money is the only way to ask for such things, press play on it and then take out your headphones and go read a book instead until it’s over.

For your own sake please do not watch this.  

I genuinely can’t tell who it’s even FOR.  If anything about this movie resonates with you, I am SORRY to hear that, because you are probably the lesbian daughter of a very rich white man running for office as a Republican, and watching any of the rich housewife reality shows probably gives you PTSD because those are the kind of people you grew up with.  

And even IF that is the case, spare yourself the trauma of watching your own life and watch something else instead.  This movie will only hurt you.

Nothing about the experience of seeing this was worth it.

Plot spoilers ahead.

The plot is as follows:

Abby (Kristen Stewart) loves her girlfriend Harper (Mackenzie Davis).  But she does not love Christmas.  After a night out together, Harper asks her to join her when she visits her family for the holidays.  Abby says yes, and gets her gay male friend John (that guy from Schitt’s Creek) to cover pet sitting for her. While running a few errands with him, she goes to pick up an engagement ring which looks completely unattainable for a woman who makes a living as a pet sitter.

When they are almost to Harper’s family’s home, she awkwardly brings up that she lied about coming out to them earlier in the year.  They still don’t know she’s gay and they have to make sure the family is perfect and scandal free because her dad is running for mayor or something and one of his donors? campaign manager? is going to be there.  So they have to pretend Abby is her straight roommmate.  They fight about it before Abby very reluctantly agrees.  This is a pattern that repeats until Abby can’t take any more.

The family is like upper-class-Republican terrible.  They are AWFUL people.  The parents treat their children like trophies in a display case, and the children all feel forced into brutal competition with each other to see who the parents will actually be proud of.  One of Harper’s sisters (Jane) is actually an okay person who does nothing wrong, but she’s an aspiring writer who has spent 10 years not finishing her book and she’s played like she belongs in a different movie, and it feels like she’s meant to be seen as the useless layabout sibling, in a cruelly funny way.  

The other sister is a nightmare of a woman (Sloane? I think?) played by a completely unrecognizable Allison Brie.  She’s a lawful evil cutthroat monster who is straight up VICIOUS to the other two, and is especially terrible to Harper, because neither of them even see Jane as competition.  Her own family is the thing she uses to try to be worthy of her parents’ pride and affection.  

The dad is focused entirely on his campaign and is more or less indifferent to all of them unless they aren’t “presentable” and “scandal free” enough to keep his potential donor/campaign manager satisfied, in which case he “expects better of them” until they behave.  The children are like 30.  

The mom is maybe the worst of all of them.  She’s invasive, ignorant in that forceful way where she doesn’t give a shit about anything except her own bubble of reality that she thinks she’s living in and blows past any contradiction to it like it’s not even there, nitpicky about what everyone’s doing, is willfully out of touch with everything she’s told (Abby’s parents died when she was 19, and she spends the movie acting like she thinks Abby grew up in an orphanage made of dirt and never had a Christmas before).  And she will not leave the two of them alone.  She insists it’s ridiculous for two grown women to share a bedroom and gives Abby a room without a lock in a basement that’s bigger than my whole house, while Harper’s room is upstairs.  Everyone is constantly barging into Abby’s room with less than two seconds of notice, which leads to the kind of tension and awkwardness you’d expect.  The first morning, Abby wakes up to Sloane’s children staring at her.

Abby is clearly MISERABLE.  And so are you, because you’re watching this movie.  Abby and Harper are constantly pushed apart by the family, and Harper pushes Abby away while pretending to be perfect and straight for her family.

Her family invited Harper’s ex boyfriend, who thinks they should rekindle things.  Super fun thing that I always love to see in my lesbian media.

While out at dinner, Abby and Harper have another mini fight in the bathroom.  Harper promises she had no idea Connor(?) was going to be there and that there won’t be any more surprises.  They walk out of the bathroom, right into Harper’s OTHER ex, her first girlfriend Riley (Aubrey Plaza, who literally just plays herself and is the only good thing about the movie).

This is the first 20 minutes.

There’s a party that leaves Abby feeling isolated and pushed away.  She goes outside to make a phone call.  She makes regular texts and phone calls to John for support and advice throughout the movie.  He’s terrible at taking care of fish, but he’s genuinely a good friend to her and it’s clear he cares about her a lot.  It’s probably unfair not to say his friendship is the second redeeming thing in the movie.  After Abby gets off the phone with him the first time, Riley comes out from around the corner and tries to be nice, saying she could relate to what she’s going through.  Abby kind of closes off from her and she takes the hint without any fuss and leaves her alone.

The movie slogs on with compounding stress and anxiety and a moment when Abby is LITERALLY forced to hide in a closet and pretend she was sleepwalking on her way to Harper’s bedroom at night.  It MIGHT have been an attempt at a joke?  I’m genuinely not sure because I did not come close to laughing once in the entire 100 minutes of this nightmare.  Harper instead sneaks into Abby’s room while she’s awkwardly trying to get away from Harper’s mom.  That’s where the gifs of the sneak-snuggle from behind the door come from.  Enjoy the gifs because everything that wasn’t giffed is not worth seeing.  Harper spends the night there.

Bright and early, Harper’s mom comes knocking on the door, trying to open it and barge in again but Abby blocked the door with something heavy claiming it was to “keep her from sleepwalking again” (her excuse for being in the closet) while Harper frantically gets almost-dressed and hides behind the door as BOTH parents come to bother them, and the evil sister’s children see her partially dressed through the crack in the door.

Later that day Abby has to go shopping for a present for the “White Elephant” Harper didn’t warn her about.  She bumps into Sloane at the mall, who dumps her kids off on her before quickly leaving.  The kids very intentionally frame Abby for shoplifting by putting a necklace in her bag, and there’s a really awkward and uncomfortable scene with her being interrogated by overly forceful mall cops who are yelling at her.  When she finally gets back to the house, Harper’s entire family now thinks she’s a criminal.

Abby spends the night alone during another (campaign?) party that Harper told her she’d probably be happier getting left out of, and she bumps into Riley on the street and gets to talking with her, still more frustrated by Harper and her family.  She says she needs some alcohol, Riley takes her to a drag bar which gave me really bad vibes and bonds with her there, telling her a bit about her relationship with Harper.  They dated secretly (obviously) in their first year of high school (which implies she knew she was gay before she dated Connor, and used him as a cover).  They would sneak each other romantic notes.  When someone found one in Harper’s locker, she threw Riley under the bus completely, outed her, and said she was obsessed with her so she could go on pretending to be straight.  They bond a bit and seem like they could be friends, at a minimum.  They have a few more scenes together over the next hour (yeah there’s still that much movie left, and if you’re wondering how it could be that bad, you’re welcome for the warning, because I was wondering that too) and they have better chemistry than Abby and Harper by miles.

Eventually Abby becomes so miserable she checks the movie-specific version of Uber to try to go home by herself, but it’s running at holiday rates so it would cost over $1000 for her to leave.  She’s still tempted to do it, and calls John again for advice and says she feels awful, completely alone, and with no way out of this horrible situation.  He gives her some more friendly support.

Abby still needs a White Elephant gift, but has no way to go by herself because Harper drove them there.  So she calls Riley to go with her.  They spend a day hanging out together while Harper is doing some other thing with her dad’s campaign, and Abby makes text excuses to Harper, who then immediately sees Riley and Abby walking by on the street together.  Before she gets a chance to run out and say something, she gets interrupted by something I thankfully don’t remember (I long for the moment this is true of the rest of it).

Riley and Abby bond some more but nothing romantic happens.  The plot only wants them to be good friends, even though their chemistry is really good.

At the end of the day Abby comes in and Harper immediately almost starts a fight with her but they get interrupted again somehow.

I have willed most of the next 20 minutes out of my mind, apparently.

There’s yet another party at this gigantic house because I hate the rich, Abby and Riley talk more.  This is the one with the really gay outfit.  Abby admits to Riley that she was planning on proposing to Harper, but at this point it’s like she’s a completely different person and she can’t tell who the real Harper is.  Riley says it’s probably both of them.

SURPRISE JOHN IS HERE.  He comes in the front door and calls for Abby.  After Abby’s last phone call he arranged for his therapist to do the pet sitting and he drove all the way here just so he could take her home.  Seriously, John has incredible Good Friend Energy.  Yet more awkwardness ensues, while John mixes some awkward flirting with Connor into his poor attempt to come off as straight.  Abby then walks right up to Harper, says “we’re done” and goes to grab some things to leave.  Harper follows her into the room and tries to get her to stay, Abby says she can’t take the hiding and the general misery, the whole experience has been terrible and she’s not sure if Harper is the person she thought she was.  Harper argues for her to stay and says she’s caught between being afraid of losing her family if she comes out and knowing she’ll lose Abby if she doesn’t.  She promises to come out to them as soon as the holidays are over because Abby is more important to her.  They kiss briefly and realize Sloane is in the doorway.

Sloane tries to run to tell the rest of the family because burning Harper’s reputation forever means she’ll be the one their parents love most.  They fight in the many hallways of this stupidly enormous rich people house (this is when “Stay out of it, Sappho” happens) and on the way to ruin her sister’s life Sloane finds her husband making out with another ....campaign person? in the pantry and or closet which is big enough to fit two people inside.   Now Harper has something to use against Sloane.  This family is fucking horrible.  Sloane gets to where everyone else is first, and outs Harper.

Harper tries to swear she’s not gay, and sees Abby watching her.  She silently turns and walks out the door with John.  Harper then grabs a giant painting that Jane spent 100 hours on for the white elephant and smashes it over Sloane’s head and yells at her before falling apart.

Abby and John have another heartfelt conversation where John asks how she came out to her parents, and she said they loved and supported her.  Then he said his dad kicked him out on the street and didn’t talk to him for thirteen years.  He says everyone’s story is different, and Harper was still going through hers, and it was a hard one.  I THINK he acknowledges that if Abby doesn’t feel like she belongs in that story, she shouldn’t force herself to?  But that might have been wishful hindsight.  Abby comes back into the house to grab her things and leave, Harper comes out to her family right in front of her, Abby says it was too late and leaves anyway.  Harper is crushed and the rest of the family starts to see how fucked up they all are.

And then in the span of 7 fucking minutes the parents realize they were shitty to Sloane and Harper and the only reason Jane turned out okay is because they gave up on her, they give a minimal apology to their children, who also realize they were shitty to each other, and then it’s the next day and Abby is there with them, Harper has the ring on her finger, and everyone is magically happy now because the dad turned down his campaign advisor who said she could still work with him if he kept Harper’s “problem” a secret.

Jane’s book becomes a best seller and she’s friends with John now, because he was the only person who seemed genuinely interested in her passion.  He sits next to her at her book signing.  The end.

No, I’m not kidding.

As soon as it was over, I thought, wow that felt like a rushed happy ending that got slapped onto the end with nothing building up to or deserving it.

After further consideration, that gives it too much credit.

Because honestly? after the first hour and thirty five minutes of this hell, Abby and Harper being together at the end is not even something I would consider a happy ending.  I wasn’t satisfied at all.  It DEFINITELY felt like Abby ending up with Riley would have been a better movie.

If I had been told beforehand that a lesbian romcom starring Kristen Stewart and Mackenzie Davis, and featuring Aubrey Plaza as Gay Aubrey Plaza would have been an absolutely miserable experience that was hard to sit through and nothing but unpleasant to watch, I would probably have been shocked and disappointed.  

But at least I would have not seen this movie.  That is my gift to you.  Please do NOT watch this.

It was marketed as a romantic comedy and it lived up to neither of those claims.  Absolutely terrible movie.  The happiest season of all is one where you don’t watch this stressful, uncomfortable disaster.

[helenarlett-rex]

So today was a day...

Not more than 10 minutes after opening the doors at work this morning I had a man try to enter the building without a mask. As I was stationed at the door this morning I offered the man a fresh mask and informed him that we are requiring people to wear masks inside the building. He ignored me by telling me that he already checked with the county commissioner and there is no county mandate for people to wear masks then walked right past me into the building. I quickly followed after him, trying to inform him that it was library policy that had nothing to do with county mandates but he again refused to listen to me and started rambling on with the same speel, refusing to listen to me. And the kicker was... he didn’t even want to use the library... He just wanted to return his books. Books he could have very easily put in the drop box right outside the door. But instead of doing that, he wanted to walk into the building without a mask to return them. In other words, he wanted to swing his dick around and prove to me he could do anything he wanted and I couldn’t stop him.

This of course went into an incident report I had to spend the morning filling out... Just because this asshole wanted to feel like no one could tell him what to do, I was forced to spend the morning filling out paperwork when I really needed to be doing other things, putting me way behind in my duties for the day. Something simple that would have taken him all of ten seconds, or even less than that if he had used the book drop, ended up costing me an hour and a half of my time which I really didn’t have to spare in the first place...

But that was only the start of my horrible day... Because the rest of the day was filled with similar people just like him who all felt the need to make our lives miserable over the covid precautions put into place in the library. As it turns out, there was to be a board meeting at the end of the day held there at the library. A full board meeting consisting of the board members of both our library and the board members of our sister library in the next town over. And one of the topics on the agenda was discussing what covid precautions were to be taken going forward. Knowing this, the local rat lickers had apparently decided to start attacking us early, and keep at it thoughout the day, almost as if they were trying to wear us down and beat us into submission before the meeting even took place.

When my library director arrived at work that afternoon, she asked me to personally attend the meeting because she had added the incident report to the agenda and wanted me there if they had any questions. I agreed to attend. And when the day came to an end and the board meeting was begin, I received the unfortunate privilege of getting to bear witness to a mob of the worst, most entitled collection of plague rats our community had to offer.

I watched as somewhere around fifty unmasked people consisting of Covid Karen’s and their entire families came pouring into the library like a group of disease infested rats scurrying off of the docks of Messina. But they weren’t satisfied to just fill the building and breath their germs all over everyone. The moment they approached the area set up for the board meeting to take place, the began instantly, and loudly showing their complete disregard for the precautions the library was trying to take. Many of them loudly announcing that they had no intention of social distancing as they began moving all the chairs that had been set up for them to ensure they were as close together as possible. I myself was forced to leave my seat when a woman scooted her own so close to me she may as well have been sitting in my lap and then further refused to allow me to move my chair away from her. I was in fact forced to stand through the entire two hour meeting because it was the only way to distance myself from the rowdy crowd intent of breathing directly down my neck.

Even without the concern of covid, I have been diagnosed with PTSD and I don’t like people getting too close to me. But this angry mob that would have looked more at place gathering outside of Frankenstein’s castle with torches and pitch forks, many of whom would go on to complain about how masks were violating their medical rights, showed no concern for my own medical rights...

As soon as the meeting began, the board opened the floor to take comments from the public and what proceeded was a literal dick swinging competition as every Karen in attendance took their turn giving prepared speeches that went through the list of every rumor, conspiracy theory, easily disproven fact, bit of misinformation with no basis, and argument of having their freedoms taken away that anyone has ever heard in argument against covid safety. Each one trying their best to top the person who spoke before them with the rest of the crowd erupting in loud cheers and applauds at the end of each speech in what can only be described as the largest circle jerk I have ever witnessed.

Many of them even forced their children, some of them too young to even understand what was going on, to stand up and talk in front of the board for sympathy points...

When the floor was finally closed to comments, and the board began going over the topics on the agenda, the ill mannered crowd continued to interrupt as if it was their own meeting and they were only allowing the board to sit in on it. They had to be told several times by the board that their time to speak was over and still they continued to interrupt and even attempt to intimidate the board.

And then, after a period of topics the foaming plague rats didn’t understand or have any interest in, the moment finally came to discuss the matter of covid precautions moving forward. And to my horror... the proposal was immediately made by a member of our sister library’s board to immediately put an end to all policy and precaution related to Covid-19. I wasn’t surprised by this... I’ve long known that the director of our sister library was a rabid Red Hat, foaming at the mouth herself, and had likewise surrounded herself with like-minded people. But that made the horror no less real as this dead eyed, unmasked man who looked as if his heart should have been beating under the floorboards of an Edgar Allan Poe story, stated that he would accept no exceptions or amendments to anything other than pretending covid had never happened.

This decrepit old vulture went so far as to prevent the rest of the board from making any further suggestions and forcing a vote on the matter, all while exchanging winks with the mob of plague rats from the one eye that still worked. And when the vote was forced it came down to a 50/50 split. Every member of my library’s board voting against the proposal, with every member of our sister library’s board voting in favor of it.

And with the vote ending in a tie, it fell to the board’s trustee to cast the tie breaking vote... A man who is so out of touch with the actual workings of the library, and has so little regard for the members of staff who keep the library running... that after knowing the man for eight years he still doesn’t know my name and continues to tell me what his name is and where his library card is located every time he checks out a book... (Yes... I know who you are... Yes, I know your card is in the box under staff... And no... my name is not Bill so stop calling me that... Bill quit six years ago...) A treatment every member of staff receives from the man I might add... (Just how many people named Bill does he think works there...?) A man who’s term limit on the board is up and this was to be his last board meeting, no less... So regardless what decision he made, he wouldn’t have to stick around to deal with the fallout of such a decision... And this was who the deciding vote was given to...

Naturally he voted in favor of the proposal and just like that I watched as every ounce of safety I had in my job was stripped away while the disease bearing pestilence in attendance all cheered like a group of rednecks who had just been told the south finally won the Civil War. (A war many of those in attendance no doubt still believe is going on if the flags flying from that backs of their pickup trucks are any indication.) No longer would masks or social distancing be required inside the building. In fact, it can’t even be suggested... Occupancy and time limits are no more. Hours of operation are to be restored to full time... A feat I am still confused as to how we are to manage considering we barely have enough staff members to keep the library open for seven hours a day and no takers on open job positions... For a moment it almost sounded as if my own right to wear personal protective equipment was to be taken away, although my own director has informed me she will not enforce that and I am free to continue wearing whatever I would like. Although her ability to allow this remains to be seen...

But there you have it. A library staffed primarily by immunocompromised employees had its right to protect the well-being of said employees  taken away based on the decision of a completely different library in a different town, an ineffectual old man on his last day on the job, and a raving mob of entitled vermin using intimidation tactics and threats of lawsuits. (Because yes, they did threaten lawsuits...)

All that remains to be seen now is if I will even continue to have a job in the wake of this decision. Because the board who decided to strip us of the only feeling of security we had, is in fact the same board who has time and time again refused to pay us anything more than minimum wage while every other business around us is currently hiring at double what we are making. If our job is no longer any safer than any other job, what’s to keep us from leaving for someone who would pay more? I’ve worked there for eight years and I can go anywhere else and get twice what I make as a starting pay... I think it would be quite funny if all of the people who demanded we drop our safety precautions so they could enjoy the library in a way that was convenient for them suddenly came back the next day to find it closed entirely due to having no staff.

Oh and the incident report I was asked to attend the meeting was glossed over by the board who no longer had any interest in punishing people for breaking rules they had just decided to do away with. So the extra two hours taken out of my day were for nothing as well...

[strutitout]

LARRY FIC REC - recently read

1. I don't want a taste (I want it all) [3K] by  thedaggerrose (blessedfetish)

What Louis really needed was a fat fucking nap.

What Louis got instead was some hipster-looking wannabe arguing with him over the validity of avocado toast.

Or the AU where Harry tells Louis to go fuck himself, Louis tells Harry to fuck him himself, and Harry follows through.

✨ Cute and hot + they bantering over avocado tost.

2. Right Side of the Wrong Bed [10K] by  eyesofshinigami 

There, standing in a pair of ridiculously tiny briefs and wielding a frying pan in one hand, is quite possibly the prettiest boy he's ever seen. Louis scrubs a hand across his face. "I'm in the wrong goddamn flat, aren't I?"

Or, the one where Louis wakes up on the wrong couch only to meet his future husband (even if Harry doesn't know it yet).

✨ This was not the first and won’t be the last time I read this fic. It’s super fun, hot, and even though it’s “just” 10K, their connection is really well-built.

3. When Least Expected [22K] by  Rearviewdreamer

Drowning in a sea of emails and Zoom meetings in the living room, his lonely son falling more and more behind in his kitchen classroom, and crushing weight of the world being on house arrest for the foreseeable future, one fateful online interaction suddenly has everything looking up.

✨Louis’ kid is having a hard time trying to adjust to the new reality brought by COVID, until he starts having music classes with music teacher Harry, and things start looking up for both father and son. Very sweet fic and really interesting to see them falling on love over this hard times.

4. Naked Attraction #2 [29K] by reader_chic_2

“By the way, I checked you out quite a lot before your tube was raised.”

Harry smiled lustrously, “Yeah? More than Leonard? He might have been crazy, but he was sort of cute.”

Louis raised an eyebrow. “Maybe to you, Styles, but I don’t enjoy dominating in the bedroom.”

“Is that so?” Harry licked his lips. “Funnily enough, I do.”

Louis felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest. “I’m not sure if someone as adorable as you could dish out commands.”

Harry laughed brightly, and in a second flat his hand reached out and gripped his hip so hard it made Louis gasp. His eyes darkened, boring into Louis’ with a burning intensity. “And I’m not sure someone as mouthy as you could take my commands. Want to test it out?”

. . .

Louis Tomlinson is the first openly gay football player in the Premier football League. He was outed by the paps, but he’s had to embrace it since then. To show he doesn’t have shame in it, he goes onto Naked Attraction, and all the money will go to LGBTQ+ support, but he has made some changes to the show. Incidentally, he meets a certain Harry Styles there, and that is when things get interesting...

✨ This was really really fun, loved their dynamic and found it a very original story. Fluff, fun and smut. 

✨ Additional tags: Spanking. Subspace.  

5. Hold Me Closer [36K] by  balanceds

Louis Tomlinson is one of the most promising dancers of the English National Ballet, on track to become the youngest principal dancer in the company's history. That is, until forces conspire to significantly complicate his life, including: a surprise ballet, an unfairly attractive guest choreographer, and being pushed into a rivalry with his best mate. Featuring lots of wine, dancing, pining, and a happy ending.

✨ I’m not an expert but from the comments it seems the writter nailed the “dancing world” characterization (even though you don’t have to know anything about it to enjoy it). There’s some good banter and friendship; hot smut; lots of pining and not that much angst.

6. Whisper The Wind [36K] by  jacaranda_bloom

Louis’ father has political ambitions and decides it’s time for Louis to step up as the company’s Chief Financial Officer. Louis thinks this is a monumentally stupid idea. After storming off in a rage he has a chance meeting with a tall, dark, curly haired stranger. A technical glitch with their shared elevator finds Louis spending twenty minutes with the most intriguing man he’s ever met. Unfortunately the man is leaving London the very next day and moving to Australia to work at his mates surf school. Timing, as they say, can fuck right off.

Fast forward three years and Louis is miserable, a shadow of the man he once was, working in his father’s company, and hating every moment. At his thirtieth birthday party, surrounded by people he doesn’t know or doesn’t like, he decides to throw it all in and follow the impossible dream. Happiness, a fulfilling life, and someone to love. The question is, will that dream be found ten thousand miles away on a sandy beach, with a curly headed surfer dude?

---

Or the one where Louis rides an elevator that may change his life forever, Harry loves the ocean but is a terrible surfer, Liam proves not all heroes wear capes, and Niall might actually have all the answers.

✨ No angst, this is 36K of pure fluff and hot smut (read tags). They fall in love almost immediately, so they are already together most of the story.

7. King of wishful thinking [38K] by  Star_Henderson

“Don't umm don't get on the bus, come inside.” Louis blurted the words out, speaking quickly.

Harry looked startled.

“Just. Look I don't know if I want..” Louis scrubbed his face with his hand. “I'll pay for your time. Just come in.”

Harry stepped away from the bus stop and the bus sailed straight past.

“What's umm what do you guys make these days?”

Harry shuffled his feet. “Depends. Like two hundred an hour.”

Louis hummed. “Reasonable.” He gestured towards the hotel. “Come up for a drink or some room service or something.”

Harry scraped the toe of his already scuffed boots on the floor. “You don't have to do this, I feel like… like you're a nice person who feels bad but it's fine. I get it. You don't have to make it up to me.”

Louis stared at Harry. It'd been so long since he'd even spoken to a guy let alone hung out with one. He'd enjoyed the banter and the flirting.

“Come up.” Louis’ voice was soft.

Harry’s face bloomed into a smile. “Ok.”

✨This is another one that I’ve read more than once and still love. Sex worker Harry. Really sweet, very well-written and their love is really well constructed. 

8. hush. [41K] by  Wankerville

“I don't like you like that, Harry.”

“See,” Harry starts, Louis can hear the smile in his voice, “that's where I think you're lying.”

---

or an au where small towns suck, louis is losing it, and harry’s just too perfect.

✨ Read the tags! My notes on this one were: SO SO BEAUTIFULLLLL. Loved it, angst (but not a heartbreaking one), SO MUCH FLUFF, great dialogues, great banter and smut. Loved it!!! (lol)

9.  Don't Look Down [91K] by  zarah5

AU. In which Louis is a solicitor at one of London’s most prestigious law firms and Harry happens to apply for the position as his trainee. And everyone else is around, too.

✨I love everything they write and this one wasn’t different. Amazing characterization, great dialogues, great banter! Absolutely loved it! Not much smut. A bit angsty, wanted to punch Louis at times, but all ended well. 

10. Let Me Be Your Star [252K] by  lovelarry10

Harry Styles has always been a singer, but he’s never had much confidence in himself. When his idol is brought on as the new judge on The X-Factor, he figures, what the hell? He’d get to sing and meet his idol. What could go wrong?

~

Louis Tomlinson has always wanted to mentor young musicians. When he’s asked to be a judge on The X-Factor, it’s a dream come true, everything he ever wanted. What he didn’t expect was to meet a curly-headed stranger that would turn his life upside down

✨Hot smut, a lot of fluff and not that much angst. Harry seems a bit immature (which makes sense for his age) but their relatioship is really sweet. (I also enjoy that the writer included pictures of how they imagined H and L on each presentation)