#crumb song partially maybe

[isogenderskitty]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

dude ash to ash is already mind blowing it’s going to be so incredible with KIM AND BRYCE VOCALS?!??!!?! ARE YOU KIDDING???????

[pure-oddity]

Gifts and Well Wishes

Content: very fluffy!! brief hint at nsfw, so MDNI(this is an 18+ blog anyway yall shouldn't be here regardless), Simon's Pov

He feels a weight settle on his chest and awareness hits him quickly. He keeps his breathing level while he listens to the weight mutter under her breath , something about him being built like a slab of concrete. He slits his eyes open to see her sat on his chest, a brownie in hand - little waxy candle in the middle.

Almost laughs as he watches her struggle to light the damn thing. Snorts when she swears at it. Her eyes flick up and she grins at him, "don't fuckin laugh at me! This thing won't light!"

Watches like a lazy cat as she flicks the lighter on over and over, moves a hand to take over when she finally gets it. She's humming a tune at him as he caresses the soft skin of her leg. He realizes it's happy birthday.

"Okay big guy, blow this thing out and make a wish - preferably before I drop it and burn down our home." And the candle lit brownie is lowered towards his face.

He pinches his tongue between his thumb and pointer finger, and snuffs the light out between spit slick fingers.

"You-! Ah whatever, I'm sure whoevers in charge of granting birthday wishes won't mind that you didn't blow it out." She waves a hand passively and removes the still smoking candle.

"Thought we celebrated already?" He watches as she places it in her cup of water on her side of the bed. Makes a mental note to replace it for her.

"Nope! Yoooouu said you didn't want a party or a surprise, so we didn't have one." She reminded.

"Hung out with the boys at the pub." He countered.

"That was just something fun to do, not a party. If it were a party we would have had cake and they woulda brought you gifts - maybe asked the staff to sing!" She insisted, tone musing as if she could picture it.

"Thank fuck that wasn't a party then." He snorts. He can imagine it too. The idea ends with himself getting up and walking out mid song.

"And because it's just me and I got you a brownie instead of cake - it's still not a party" she's clearly anticipated his responses. If it were anyone else he'd be more agitated at feeling predictable.

Her leg shits, subtlety for her, not so much for him. He sees a shape now partially hidden behind the same leg.

"Love." Making his dissaproval known with a single word is a skill he's honed.

"Shhhhhhh! Just eat your brownie, I made it myself!" She's undeterred by his dissaproval.

"Told you I didn't need anything" he grumbles, in hindsight he should have seen this coming.

"Less talking more eating!" She shoves the treat closer and with a deep exhale he sits up, one hand on the brownie the other to help stabilize her as she's sent off his chest into his lap.

It's a good mix of bitter and sweet, slightly more bitter. Still warm and gooey in the way he likes. Made with his preferences in mind he chews with an appreciative hum, places a peck on her forhead - "get chocolate on my face and ill bite your boob!"

His chest shakes in mirth as he spares a glance to make sure he hadn't gotten chocolate on her - knows she'll follow through on her threat, he's got the marks to prove it.

He eyes the shape - present- warily, as though it might bite them.

"Oh stop! You're gonna love it, just two things and they're small." She sounds hopeful, and excited. He supposes even if it were dog shit in a box he'd atleast TRY to sound happy, or at the very least sound not as angry as he could be to recieve dog shit.

He swallows the last bite of brownie, she plucks a crumb from his face and licks it off her finger. He contemplates asking for another kind of present for his birthday.

She seems to know where his mind has wandered and gives him an impish grin and a swat to his chest

"Down boy! We'll get to that later- open this first!"

She leans in his lap towards the gift and plucks it up with egar hands, practically shoving it into his own. Her fingers slide against his own rough and calloused palms and he shudders out a sigh. Her hands so much smaller but no less sure of what they're doing.

He takes a pause to settle his nerves, and pulls on the string holding the wrapping together. He's careful as he plucks open the paper, going slower at her insistence that 'you don't need to save the paper, just rip it!'.

Paper and ribbon no longer keeping the box closed he pops the lid open. Inside he finds what he recognizes as a sheathed knife, and a - bracelet?

He moves to pick it up but he's guided towards the knife."That one needs an explanation, focus on the knife first" she speaks softly, a hint of nerves.

Ever the dutiful soldier he follows her command. Grabbing the blade and carefully removing it from its case. It's got a good weight, balanced. It glistens in the lamplight. He recognizes the brand immediately

"how'd you get your hands on this? They only deal with custom shit - and only if you can prove you're armed services. Which you, love - unless you have something to tell me - are not" he says it like it's a joke. He hopes his eyes convey how deathly serious he is.

The idea of it - her in the field hurt or worse, lost and -

"I'm not in the military no. Buuutt your captain is!"

Ah, that. That makes more sense. But-

"He gave me his number the night you introduced us, in case I ever needed him or you"

Ah, so the old mans sticking his nose where it doesn't belong. He gives her an unimpressed look before sighing "alright fine. 'S a good gift. Thank you love, I'll keep it close."

"You're welcome! Now the other one."

She reaches for it before he's even set the blade on the bedside table. It is indeed a bracelet, it's something woven. Three strands, black, gold and blue.

She prods at his hands and taps each wrist, he gives her his preferred hand as she ties it on.

"So it's. It's uh. Hm. So okay, I was thinking about jewelry recently and I ended up remembering a conversation with my nana - you haven't met- but it was something like uh. " He watches her flounder, and if he wasn't already giving her his undivided attention his is now.

"Jewelry can be kind of a shield between the wearer and bad things. That if a piece of your jewelry breaks it means that it stopped something bad from happening to you. Like it sucked up all the bad and broke itself so you wouldn't break."

She's finished tying it, and now runs her hand along the lines in his palm. There's a sadness in her eyes now. He despises it, especially because this is likely something he can't just kill.

"And we'll. I cant...I can't protect you when you leave. I'm, I'd be no good at what you do. And sometimes that really bothers me. But I can do this. I can make this so that - so that even if I can't protect you, this can."

She rolls her eyes, and he sees that they're shiny now.

"And yes, I KNOW this little thing can't stop a bullet or whatever and it's not exactly jewelry like my nana was saying but. You know, I feel like it counts. And I made it. I...I kinda wished on it? Sorta. I just - thought every good thought I could and poured all my hopes that you come home safe and that you know I lo- well you know. " she flaps her hands dismissively and his free hand cups her warm cheek. She leans into it instinctively but her eyes brighten a smidge.

"And I know its silly but...can't hurt? And, and! It has your two favorite colors , black and blue"

"And the gold?" He encourages. Has a feeling his assumption is correct.

She meets his eyes, she knows he knows the answer - he just wants to hear it from her.

"....it's me. You say I light up your life and well , golds like sunlight so...... it was either that or piss yellow."

He barks out a laugh "gold. Gold's fine..." a comment rests on his tongue. The one where he tells her that he isn't superstitious and that he doesn't believe in things like luck. But he remembers that neither does she and instead trails off.

She can't control what happens out there or what he does. She understands it, she struggles with it. It's the fear, loving a man made for war is hard. She won't leave him, won't let herself be chased off. Willingly haunted by a man mostly dead. But he knows she's scared.

So if wearing her little trinket will sooth her soul, even a little, even if it doesn't make logical sense. He'll wear it.

"Thank you love. I'll keep it with me yeah? I'll be bullet proof."

"Okay - now you're making fun of me!...you don't HAVE to-"

"Might have to ask you to make some for the boys..specially Johnny. Fucker keeps adding holes faster than the medics can patch em up."

She pauses and a teeny grin lights up her face. That's better he thinks.

"Yeah! I have some yarn left over fro-"

"Fuck no. These are my colors, give him piss yellow."

She laughs loud, he'd worry about bothering his neighbors if he gave a fuck. But the woman in his lap makes it hard to be worried about much else besides keeping her laughing.

------------

"New gear Lt.?"

He flicks his gaze towards Johnny at the question, and he almost tells him no - he doesn't have any new gear. Until he remembers.

He took it out subconsciously, her knife. Just to keep his hands idle on the flight over to the middle of danger again. He also spies the tricolor cord peeking out from under his sleeve, knows the Scotsman has seen both.

"Something like that yea."

"Hmmmm wager a guess its from the missus?"

He stares at Johnny and the man snorts.

"Sorry yea, shouldn't have asked when I know the answer - ain't that right cap?"

Ghost eyes the captain next to him, catching his whiskerd grin tells him all he needs to know. Meddling old man.

"Never took you for a jewelery kinda guy Lt. ,not gonna lie" it's Gaz this time, he looks at the braclet with warmth in his eyes - a pinch of longing. A good lad Gaz, if he doesn't already have someone to come home to - he'll find them easy enough.

"Man of mutitudes Sgt. What can i say?"

The knife is returned to its proper place and his sleeve is adjusted to hide the woven band from any more eyes as the helicopter makes its descent.

And when there's a moment of peace after the fighting, he checks to make sure both are still there - keeping him safe.

[daeguzen]

Lee Haechan Keeps Breaking Up With Me

PAIRING | l.dh x f. reader, ft. n.jm

GENRE | angst, slight fluff

WORD COUNT | 7.6k

NOTE | i just wrote all of this, it's not proofread lol. this is the start of the started with a book series. first book is called laura dean keeps breaking up with me. it's an lgbtq+ comic styled book. the art style is very pretty and the story itself, i find, is good. a coming to age story about friends, neglect, and toxic relationships. i followed the basic plot for the most part but all scenes, characters, and personal story lines are not 100% true to the original book. credits to the author of course for what i did relate to.

WARNING | reader has negative views of themselves, mentions of infidelity, manipulative characteristics, toxic relationships

SONG | i don't know you - the marias

SUMMARY | becoming lee haechan's girlfriend was the best day of your life. he was everything you dreamed of. the most breathtaking, and beautiful lee haechan was someone you were lucky enough to call yours. it goes unnoticed how he easily manipulated you into doing all he wanted, believing the pretty lies that left his lips. the love you had for him was enough to blind you to how mean he could be and how often he broke up with you just to get back together again. no one understood why you kept running back into the embrace of the boy who paid no mind to your pain. when you seek advice from the don't need that love online forum, your forced to face the truth. your heart is breaking slowly, your friendship is falling apart, and you can't seem to do anything right. and what would it take for him to stop breaking up with you?

Wiping down the cafe table, you find yourself lost in the repetitive motions of your work. You move your arm around, rag in hand, watching as the little crumbs fall on the floor. Placing the napkin dispenser and other items neatly in their respective places. Backing away from the now clean area, you take the used dishes to the kitchen. You hear the faint chimes that sound every time people walk in and out. It’s not as busy, that being the situation every Wednesday afternoon. When you come out back to the front you’re greeted with a small cappuccino made by your co-worker Na Jaemin.

“You look like you need an energizer. Don’t worry, the boss won’t mind.” Glancing at him and back at the drink in his hand you break out in a small but grateful smile.

“Thank you Jaem, what would I do without your kind gestures?”

“Crash and burn.” At that you let out a laugh that makes Jaemin’s eyes sparkle. Something you never noticed, eyes always wondering elsewhere.

“Honestly, I can say you read me better than my own boyfriend.” You also miss the twitch in Jaemin’s smile, lips almost frowning. But he reverts back to his friendly self knowing that the place next to yours wasn’t for him.

“Well I believe that your boyfriend is a little bitch.” You almost choke on your coffee at the sudden selection of words.

“Jaemin!”

“Just saying what I believe. An opinion tis all. Now finish up young lady, back to work before manager Suh comes in and sees you downing his precious coffee.”

“I thought you said he wouldn’t mind.”

“Hmm did I?” You stifle a giggle as you finish up your tasty cappuccino. Although he had been partially messing with you when he called your boyfriend a little bitch, you couldn’t help but wonder if Haechan wasn’t the best boyfriend in the world. You could’ve gone without the name calling. Visibly, you sigh as you throw your coffee cup away, thoughts of Haechan lingering in your mind. Most of the time, the emotions you felt when remembering him were sad and lonely ones. You oftenly had to wonder where he was or if he’d call you. Maybe he’d forgotten about you completely at times. You weren’t sure but you hoped it wasn’t so. 

When the chimes ring again, you look up ready to greet the incoming customer when you realize it’s your bestfriend Mark. Your smile diminishes as you watch the evident frown and glaring eyes. When he stops at the counter you don’t even get one word out before he speaks up.

“What happened to showing up to my show at 4 pm sharp?” Your eyes widen. Shit.

“M-Mark, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to miss it, Johnny called me in to work yesterday and I forgot to follow up with you. Please I’m sorry, I-I can make it up to you.”

“You can’t because you always do this.”

“What do you mean?” You feel yourself try to hide, curl into yourself as Mark’s words leave painful imprints on your chest. You couldn’t blame him though, it was your fault. Only you were to blame for being a fuck up of a girlfriend and best friend.

“You always come to me when you need something or when you’re down. Mostly when your jerk of a boyfriend doesn’t give you any attention. But when I want to go to you you’re never there. When I tell you I have a show that I really care about that I would love for my best friend to show up to, you forget. It’s not fair.” Mark looks near tears as he speaks to you in a tone that always felt alien to you. He starts to turn away, opting to just leave at that point.

“Markie, wait, don’t go I really am sorry!”

“Fuck off Y/N.” There’s the sound of a choked off sob, tears tricking with a heavy heart in hand. You jump slightly when Jaemin’s hand comes to soothingly rub your back, arms bringing you into a hug.

“It’s okay Y/N, it’ll be okay. If you want, go home and rest up a bit, it’s not a busy day and I can talk to manager Suh.” 

You want to shake your head and say no, that you’re fine and that you can do your job but Jaemin doesn’t let you. And even if his intentions were good, it only made you feel worse. Not only were you a careless best friend and boring girlfriend, but now you were a useless co-worker. Walking out of the cafe, your eyes were trained on the sidewalk, the tears still streaming down your face. They didn’t stop even when you reached your house. Not until you fell asleep with only a pillow to hold.

~

You spent the entirety of the following week trying to make up for your mistake. You kept apologizing, telling him that you appreciated him a lot and supporting him during his recordings. He accepted it, also apologizing for telling you to fuck off but you told him there was no need. He was right to be upset with you and you promised that this time, you’d work on being a better and attentive friend. Knowing that the only thing Mark was forgetful about was eating properly, you oftenly brought him lunch boxes and coffee from your workplace.

You were aware that Mark wasn’t a big fan of your boyfriend. And it frustrated him to see the frequency of your visits with lunch boxes in hand not because he wasn’t grateful but because he knew Haechan never saw any of this. Your boyfriend was as good as a ghost, even dead. He hoped that one day, you’d have the courage to leave him and be happy. You were his childhood friend and seeing how those eyes of yours morphed into something sad and empty would always be a sadness of his own.

It was Tuesday morning when you walked out of the recording studio, bidding farewell to Mark. You made your way towards the Art Building, where your Intro to Art and Visual Culture class was scheduled in about thirty minutes. You sat on one of the seats in the hallway to wait for your class to begin. Scrolling through your phone, you couldn’t help but see what Haechan had been posting. He told you he was busy, it was why you hadn’t seen him in over three weeks. If hanging out with friends at a bar could be considered busy. You never complained or called him out for anything. You weren’t that type of girlfriend and Haechan would probably be annoyed if you were.

Still, you couldn’t help but wish that those pretty eyes would look at you. You could almost imagine him walking up to you, wearing nothing but jeans and an oversized hoodie. You’d look to your left, seeing him sit down next to you, getting lost in those sparkling and mischievous eyes. The pretty marks that dotted his face, creating the Ursa Minor constellation. You would adoringly call him your little bear because of it. His hair had always looked soft, grown out and messy but it was your favorite out of all the ones he’d worn before. You liked how it almost came around his eyes and down to the back of his neck. When you blink again, his image is gone and you’re left with an empty seat, just a picture of him on your phone case.

Your head falls back gently onto the wall behind you, eyes closing. What would it take for Haechan to just see you? To love you like you did him? He had to at least somewhat love you. He wouldn’t keep coming back if he didn’t, right? It felt more like something you tried to tell yourself to believe instead of what could be the actual truth. Maybe Haechan didn’t love you. Or maybe you were asking for too much when you were not enough. Still, Haechan was yours. At least a piece of him had to be yours, even if your entirety belonged only to him. When your eyes open, moving to the side, you see his smiling face.

“I wish you were real.”

“If I weren’t then what would I be? A ghost?” You blink once and then again. By the third time, he’s still sitting there. That dazzling smirk spreads across his face as it always did. Suddenly, he brings himself closer, head tilting and lips aiming straight for yours. You felt that emptiness fill again, forgetting all the bad thoughts that clouded your mind. Before he could pull away, you surprisingly let your fingers slip into his hair and hold him there for a bit. He lets a muffled sound of what seems surprise as he lets you get lost within him.

For you it was everything but for Haechan, he just relished in the way he held your delicate heart in his hands. Always at his beckoning call even when he discarded you. He could always present himself in front of you and you’d be like a puppy waiting for their master.

He pulls away from you, eyes hooded when he sees you chase a bit after him. You miss the bad glimmer in his eyes, when he takes a good look at your closed eyes, lips colored red and swollen. You feel his hand come up to caress at your cheek softly, a great contrast from the manipulative feelings burning within him.

“Darling, you look so cute like this. Maybe I should keep you waiting for my kisses more frequently.” He clearly knows what he’s doing and saying when he watches the sad frown grace your lips.

“I missed you so much. I haven’t seen you in three weeks now. Where have you been?”

“I told you I was busy doing stuff. My friends needed me. But I remembered about your class today and since I didn’t have anything to do I thought maybe we could go somewhere.” Another frown, another internal flare of manipulative words. A never ending dance doomed for tragedy.

“Hyuckie, I have class in twenty minutes.”

“The same class you attend every Tuesday for five months. Missing one class isn’t going to affect you. Besides, don’t you want to spend time with me? You said you missed me.” Haechan’s hand retracts, his thumb lightly grazing now at your neck. 

“But I like this class a lot.” This time it’s Haechan who frowns, observing how you’ve become a little resistant to him.

“What, so you like your class more than me? I thought I meant more, that I was important to you above all else.” When you see him pout he knows he’s roped you in. He likes the desperate look to please him and wonders what he did in life to find such a willing girl that wants to see him happy and sets her heart right out in front of him. He could almost laugh.

“Fine, fine. But only this one time. I can’t keep skipping classes.”

“Don’t worry love, no one will notice you’re missing and we can have fun.” No one would ever notice you the way I do. See you the way I do. Your heart, it’s all for me to play with and do as I please. And you could never dream of saying no to me my love.

Haechan grasps at your hand now, excitedly dragging you away. To you, not much else mattered more than keeping him happy. Even if it was at the expense of your responsibilities and well being. As long as he could smile with those dazzling eyes into yours, you thought that was enough.

“Where are we going Haechannie?”

“Anywhere we want.” Anywhere I want.

“Can we get coffee together?”

“Should we?” No.

“Unless you don’t want to, we could go get ice cream if you’d like, I know you like that one place by the bookstore.”

“Hmm, I guess we’ll get ice cream then!” Of course we are.

“Haechannie?”

“Yes?” What?

“I love you.” 

“Me too.” Of course you do, who wouldn’t?

And eventually when you do get your ice cream and he pays for you, you get a piece of him. You enjoy it to the fullest. But as you're finishing your treat, he does what he always does. When his eyes find his friends he lets those words roll smoothly out of his mouth. I’ll be back so wait for me here.

You tell yourself he’ll come back. But you always knew what those eight words meant. Even if you denied it as hard as you could, the rising moon could not deny it for you. 

Haechan left you in the dark again.

~

Dear DNYL,

My name is Y/N and I’m a third year college student at Dream University of the Arts. I’m currently in a relationship with my sweet boyfriend Hyuck. I love him dearly. He’s a great guy deep down. When he first asked me to be his girlfriend, I was sitting on a singswet and he was kneeling in front of me. He looked at me, I know he took a really good look at me. He was so sweet, his hand held mine, and he told me that he had never met another girl like me. He said he wanted to keep me all for himself. 

But I think that things aren’t going very well. I just can’t figure out why. I love him and he loves me. I know he does. He buys me ice cream. Even pretty flowers because he knows I like them.  He lets me join in on his streams. He’s a gamer. He’s pretty good at it too. I’m not as good so he doesn’t let me embarrass myself in front of his friends. I know he’s taking care of me by doing this.

I just can't seem to understand something. Even with all this love, Hyuck sometimes feels upset. And I don’t know how to fix it.  I know it’s my fault, I should pay more attention to him because I’m his girlfriend. I care for him a lot. But I don’t know how to fix it because truthfully, my boyfriend Hyuck keeps breaking up with me and I don’t know what to do. Please reply soon. 

Lots of love,

Y/N

~

It was a mistake. Your balance had failed and the other boy had been too close. You were slightly tipsy, waiting on the couch for your boyfriend. He invited you to the bar he frequented with his friends. You were okay enough to know that you were going to have to apologize again. Not only to Haechan but to Jaemin too. Your boyfriend was so caught up in talking to some other person that he forgot about his promise to take you home half an hour ago. You decided to take matters into your own hands, not being able to take the sight in front of you.

Jaemin hadn’t taken very long to find you. He came over to you asking if you were okay, you only replied with a small yes as you took his hand into yours. But the world was spinning so when you fell back, Jaemin tripped over you, lips brushing against yours. It was straight out of a dramatic story. But he didn’t stay more than a second like that when he was getting up, ears red, and stuttering apologies. You laughed, waving it off, and telling him that you’d really like to go home.

Jaemin held you close to his side, when his eyes came up, he noticed the silhouette of the person he could honestly say he hated. He watched as Haechan’s arm retracted from the girl next to him, eyes engaging him in a furious glare. Before anything else could happen, Jaemin pulls away first, his top priority being you.

“Let’s take you home okay?” You nod, letting him guide you to his car. You don’t notice the familiar steps that hurriedly hit the payment. It’s only when he’s blocking you from Jaemin’s car that you realize Haechan followed you out. He looks towards you, extending his hand out for you to take.

“Y/N, I’ll take you home.”

“If you haven’t noticed I’m taking her home.”

“I wasn’t talking to you. Y/N, let’s go now.” He moves forward to take almost by force but stops when he watches with shock at how you sink deeper into Jaemin’s arms. You most certainly did not just reject Haechan in preference of Jaemin. You couldn’t have done that.

“Y/N?” He tries to soften his voice, masking the edge and frustration he’s feeling. To him, there was definitely something wrong with you. You’ve been resisting him recently and he wasn’t a fan of it.

“You didn’t take me home. Jaemin…will do it. He listens.” Jaemin moves around Haechan, still holding onto you as he places you in the passenger's seat. He was sure to properly accommodate you. And when you saw that, your hands came up to try and wipe away your tears. Your sobs may have been hushed but Haechan heard them loud and clear. He turned to watch as you completely fell apart, telling Jaemin so openly that your chest was hurting. That you wanted it to stop. And then before Jaemin closed the door, you uttered words neither boys would’ve ever thought you’d say.

“I wish you were my boyfriend instead. You’re not reckless. You make me feel safe Nana.” It was funny, how they both stilled, eyes wide with shock but for completely different reasons. Haechan felt humiliated. He was hurt but his brain processed all the wrong reasons. Thinking that he was losing his control over you was what he thought bothered him. Jealousy? Of course it was, you were after all his. Jaemin on the other hand, felt sad that he wished it would be the same. But he knew that the moment you’d sober up, you’d forget all of this. And you’d go back to the very arms you were running from tonight.

When you arrived at your house, Jaemin had to carry you. You were at the same low you found yourself in whenever Haechan was around. Jaemin was seeing it all and you couldn’t help the embarrassment in you. But Jaemin didn’t care about any of that. What he cared about was your wellbeing. He loved you more than his words could convey. It ripped him apart to watch Haechan bring you down and toy with you as if you were nothing. But he could never force something that was not meant to be. All he could was be a good friend, it was all he could be even if he craved for more.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“Making you…drive me home. Bothering…”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. I’m here when you need me.”

“Sorry about the kiss. Lost my balance.” For all the self control Jaemin had, he didn’t want to stop his next words. He wouldn’t regret them, he’d just regret the feeling of your inevitable rejection.

“I kinda liked it.”

“Hmm.” Jaemin sighs at your response.

“Of all times you decide to fall asleep on me, it’s the moment I bare a piece of my soul. Sleep well Y/N.” He leaves the door to your room ajar and walks towards the sofa bed in your living room. He doesn’t want to leave you alone in this state, well aware you’d need someone to take care of you in the morning. If only he could hold you, brush his fingers through your hair, and kiss you again. Even if it was selfish, he wanted to be in his place. He’d always want it to be him instead.

~

Dear Y/N,

Thank you for reaching out to us! I’m Renjun, one of the consultants from Don’t Need That Love. I just want you to know that I’m proud of you for sending us your letter. I want you to take a moment. Just take a moment to breathe. Focus on yourself as you read this and put away all other thoughts. I want you to know that as a consultant here, I am very honest with my words from what I collect from these letters. Although, it may not be what you wish to here, we do this to give perspective on what may be happening in your love life. At the end of the day, I am here to help.

The relationship you are in is not very healthy. Significant others are meant to be there for you, cherish you, and make you happy. But I think you’ve convinced yourself that your boyfriend doing all these things for you is his way of showing his love. I think he tries to manipulate you with his words, to make himself seem like he’s upset and guilt you into giving in. You don’t need someone else to validate you as a good person. You work on accepting yourself as you are. And if there’s someone in your life who truly cares about you, they will be the ones to talk about healthy changes you need to consider.

Not allowing you to play games and to just watch his streams because his friends are there, is not an excuse. If anything he’s supposed to stick up for you. He has probably tried to mold you into someone who is dependent on him. To have you any time he calls out.

Let me ask you sincerely, do you think Hyuck truly sees you for the person you are? Does he know all the things you enjoy? Does he respect you and your friends? Does he agree and accept your words even if it’s a simple opinion or request? Ask yourself, how do his actions reflect the love he says he has for you. Write it out if you’d like, think upon it and then if you want you can write to me again. I hope to hear from you soon.

Lovingly,

Renjun

~

“We need to talk.” It was the first time Haechan wasn’t so kind to you. Before, it was an exchange of a few words and then him abruptly walking away. But now, he dragged you by your arm, fingers painfully digging into your skin. He led you into the alleyway next to the cafe you worked at. Letting you go, he let his arms fall at his sides. He ignored the way you rubbed your arm to soothe the pain.

“Were you trying to hurt me last night?” You winced.

“N-no, I didn’t mean to-”

“So what, you were just caught up in the moment. For fucksake he was on top of you and you let him!”

“I didn’t mean to do it! It was an accident!”

“So if I were to just kiss any other girl I’d be able to call it an accident? Is that how much my love means to you?” It hurt that he’d accuse you but it didn’t outweigh the guilt you felt for hurting him too. 

“No, of course not. Your love means so much to me I-”

“Do you remember what you said to Jaemin?” For some reason, Haechan looked more hurt than you’ve ever seen. His eyes were slightly red as if he had cried.

“W-what are you talking about?”

“You called him to pick you up. Because I didn’t do it as soon as you wanted to. You told him he listens to you. Do you think that I don’t? You think I’m an inadequate boyfriend.”

“Hyuckie no-”

“You told him you wished he were your boyfriend instead!” His statement shuts you up immediately. Hands shaking nervously from the onslaught of accusations. You were drunk but you knew what you had said. And although you avoided that conversation with Jaemin, you knew it was inevitable with Haechan.

“Should we just break up?” At this you panic and Haechan laughs, relishing in how immediately you reached out to him. You’re still mine. You belong to me and no one else.

“Darling, every time we break up we always find our way back. You understand me and I’m the only one who understands you. What we have is more important than a meaningless kiss you shared with that bastard,” he watches your lips slightly frown, “unless you think he’s more important to you than I am.” You shake your head, giving the answer he wanted.

“I want to hear you say it, love. Say I’m more important to you than him.”

“You’re more important to me than him.”

“So we’re good now. Okay lovely?”

“Yes Haechan.”

“Good,” Haechan moves in to kiss you and you know he never does little pecks. He brings you closer, kissing you in a way you don’t recognize. Because this time, it’s you who tries to pull away gently and he who lets out a sound of disapproval, reaching to kiss you again.

“I know you have to get back to work but after you get off let's go on a date. We’ll do anything you want.” You blink up at him, eyes almost innocent and he feels something strange spread in his chest.

“Anything?” He nods.

“Can we go to the music shop? I want us to listen to music together.” Haechan, who is usually so composed, feels a haze in his mind as he gives in to you. He tells you that he would love to. And he tries to understand why he’s feeling this way but as it always happened, he recognized all the wrong reasons. This time, he thought it was simply because he almost lost his little toy. But you came back into his arms, you always would.

~

“Mark, I’m sorry. Please believe me I-”

“You know every fucking time I see you, your always apologizing. And it’s getting very tiring Y/N. I thought we were fine, thought you were doing better.”

“I don’t mean to-”

“What? You don’t mean to be a shitty friend? Goddammit, I feel like we’re going in circles. Why can’t you see your boyfriend is a complete asshole? He doesn’t love you!” Mark’s words were meant to hurt you. You knew that much. But hearing him openly express them made you want to cry. And it seemed that it was all you ever did. You were happy one moment crying the next. And it never seemed to stop.

Currently, you stood in Mark’s room, it changed a lot from how he had it as a kid. Now, you could say it was a perfect depiction of who he was. He loved music, he would say he wouldn’t know what to do with his life if it wasn’t for his passion. It looked lively with all the album covers on his walls, music sheets thrown about and instruments on one side. 

But looking at him now, he didn’t have the brightness about him. He looked drained and it scared you of how much he seemed to resemble you.

“H-he does love me.”

“Of course he does. Little Mr. Perfect with the dazzling eyes could never hurt you. Oh no, he loves you so dearly that’s why he goes around fucking other girls behind your back.”

“What?” Mark looks to you clearly now, the color draining from both your faces.

“Mark, what are you talking about?”

“You can’t tell me you didn’t know? How could you not know?” An unfortunate turn of events but maybe this was what served as the eye opener you needed.

“Mark?” He looks towards you, frustration in his shoulders but tears rolling down nonetheless.

“I guess that makes two of us. How pathetic. Not only are we best friends who share birthdays but now we can both say we got cheated on.” 

You took a moment to process what he was saying. You knew you were a lot of things. Stupid. Ignorant. Foolish. But you weren’t entirely heartless. And only others knew that you were more selfless than selfish. You walked towards Mark, without saying a word you pulled him into an embrace. That was all it took for him to break down.

Mark was a good kid. He did his work diligently and he was one of the most talented musicians at the university. He had a growing following on his platforms. He was always a good son and tried to be a good friend. He thought he had to meet everyone’s expectations and beyond. You often had to bring him down from that cloud and back to earth. Mark didn’t have to try and be perfect because he already was. He just had to be the best he could be. Your hands came to touch his face, knuckles brushing away gently at his tears. You should have been there for him. You should have been a better friend. But you failed him and this was something you’d never forgive yourself for.

“I think there’s a lot we have to discuss about Markie. I’m sorry for not being there. But I’m here now. And I won’t go away anymore.”

And so with that, Mark explained to you that his girlfriend of three years had cheated on him with one of the boys in his piano class. He told you about how he found them, how upset he was, and how badly she tried apologizing for her mistakes. But he realized that he couldn’t take it. That the only person who he couldn’t push away no matter how many times she apologized was you. He could learn to live without her but he couldn’t do that with you. And after talking for hours about him, the topic you dreaded finally came up. And after everything you heard, you realized a lot of things about yourself. Things you finally had the courage to change.

~

Haechan came around to your coffee shop, smirking at the obvious glare Jaemin sent his way. 

“Y/N, you’re gonna go to my birthday party tomorrow right?” Looking up from behind the cash register, you watch Haechan leaning on the counter.

“I thought your birthday was next week?”

“It is but I’m celebrating it tomorrow. I’m inviting all of my friends too. Don’t worry I can pick you up.”

“Haechan, I appreciate it but I have something really important to do.” Haechan frowns. Did you…just say no without apologizing? He straightens up to look at you more clearly.

“What’s so important that you have to miss my birthday party?”

“It’s personal.”

“So now we’re keeping secrets?”

“You’d know a lot about keeping secrets.” Haechan has the audacity to scoff. The shock he felt wasn’t enough to even begin describing the list of emotions he was going through.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused. Now leave, there's a customer behind you.” He looks at you, mouth gaping open. When he looks back to where your coworker stands with amusement written on his face, he turns angrily.

“No way did you just reject your boyfriend's invitation.”

“I did,” you let out a sigh of relief.

“It’s just…I’m not used to you denying him anything. Not to sound nosy or whatever but your man is-” before he could say more you add, “a little bitch.” If Jaemin had taken a sip of coffee he would’ve spit it out. But he settled with his jaw dropping to the floor.

“Who are you?” You turn to look at him and for the first time in years, he watches a genuine smile grace your face all the way to your eyes.

“Y/N L/N, third year college student at Dream University of the Arts. The best friend to none other than Mark Lee and Na Jaemin. The soon to be ex-girlfriend of one Lee Haechan."

~

Dear Renjun, 

Thank you for writing back. It means a lot to me. It did hurt a lot, the words you wrote. I’m embarrassed to say that I spent a few weeks agonizing over it but I’ve finally gathered my courage. One that I think took too long to find. I guess I’ll just start with everything that’s been on my mind.

I hate going to the ice cream place all the time. I only did it because Hyuck doesn’t like coffee too much. I would always offer coffee, he’d say should we, and I knew it was his way of saying no. He never gets me the flowers I like. Blue and white hydrangeas are my favorite. But he gets me roses because he says they are the most romantic. I’ve always found them to be basic. He’s never told me loved me directly. I would always say it first. He also always leaves me alone. Whether in the rain, sun, dark clouds, or on a park bench. He made me skip classes because he made me feel as though I wasn’t loving him enough. He never talks kindly about my friends. He doesn’t listen to me when I’m agonizing. He forgets me.

You’re right, he doesn’t see me. I called it love because I wanted to believe it. But it wasn’t. It never was to begin with. I was a toy to him, a puppet. One that he could pull the strings back towards him. But these past few weeks have made me realize and see things for what they truly were. My friend confessed something to me. He went through something sad in his relationship just like I did with mine. I see now how badly I’ve neglected him. Just like Hyuck does to me. 

I don’t want it anymore. I don’t want to be with him. I want him to let me go. I know it’ll hurt but I know I’ll be happy when we set each other free. My boyfriend Huck keeps breaking up with me because he doesn’t need my love. He doesn’t fear losing it. And even if I do want to cry and scream…I can’t. Why do I feel so free?

Thank you Renjun. For listening to me and for providing me with your words of encouragement. It’s one of the many things that I needed to grow out of this. I hope wherever you are that you’re doing well. And that you have people who cherish you deeply.

Lots of love,

Y/N

~

Taking a deep breath as you bring your hand up to ring the doorbell, you hear the faint sound of it ringing in Haechan’s apartment. When the door opens you’re met with the smiling face of a boy you’ve never met. He looks like he’s gone through hell and back. Wincing at the sudden daylight he gives you another small and quirky smile.

“Hello! You here for the after party?”

“After party?”

“Yeah, Haechan is having a weekend birthday party so we’re on dia numero dos. Come in!” You walk in a little weary at all the excitement that exudes from the boy. When you step into the living room you see a few boys, with what seems to be their girlfriends, and Haechan sitting in the middle laughing away with a bottle of Bacardi. When he turns he sees you and you can see his gears turning in his head. The ones that used to manipulate you. 

“Y/N, you’re here.”

“I didn’t know you were having another party.”

“Yeah well I was sad that my girl couldn’t show up for some reason so the guys are here to cheer me up. We’re going to be partying all week!”

“Yeah, uhm can I speak to you in private?” Haechan’s eyebrows furrow. There’s a little bite to his tone when he answers you.

“Why can’t you say what you need to say here?”

“Because it’s a little personal.”

“Just like yesterday? Why are you being so secretive Y/N? It’s getting really annoying.” His friends just look at the two of you, some giggle, others ignore the situation, and a few look disappointed in him. One of them you recognize as Jeno, Jaemin’s best friend. You knew he was a good guy. You wondered if Haechan had somehow manipulated him too.

“I don’t want to say it in front of your friends.” He scoffs.

“Just spit it out Y/N, I’m trying to cheer up after you left me hanging.” You could visibly hear the snipping of the threads that kept you tied to him. Miraculously, with all the confidence you could muster you let out the same words he would whisper in your ear.

“I’m breaking up with you Lee Donghyuck.” No one laughed at that. No one dared to as they watched the show unfold in front of them. You can feel Jeno’s eyes on yours but ignore it as yours don’t leave Haechan. He blinks, confusion spreading across his features. He then sits up straight, as if your words were registering late.

“I’m sorry what?” he laughs.

“I’m breaking up with you. You’re a piece of shit of a boyfriend. You only care about yourself. You manipulate people around you to make them feel bad and yourself better just to feed that insanely inflated ego of yours. You don’t bother listening to me or going out with me. You barely even know me after years of dating. I’ve had enough.”

“Fucking unbelievable.” Haechan’s eyes watered but you knew they were fake. He still had to play victim after all.

“You came to break up with me on my fucking birthday!?” 

“To be fair, your birthday is Tuesday.” Haechan lets the bottle fall onto the carpeted floor as he gets up in a haste of anger and disbelief.

“You can’t be-”

“Since you always interrupt me, let me do the same. You made me into a shitty person and friend. I willingly let you do that to me. But you know what? I realized that you’re not worth it Donghyuck,” and if using his real name was anything to go by, he immediately knew you were being serious, “You’re not worth being loved by me. I have so much love to give and you always take it for granted. I hope we never have to see each other again after this. I already left all of your things outside your door. I don’t have anything to ask from you because you never care to have me over as much as you do your friends and the girls you sleep with behind my back.” You don’t miss how the color from his face drains, leaving him in a state that you never had the pleasure of seeing him in. You turned and left and as soon as you reached the sidewalk you heard the slamming of a door and Haechan’s loud voice rang through.

“Fuck you! Go fuck yourself! I don’t even need you! I never even fucking loved you! You weren’t special, you were nothing! You are nothing! You’re wrong. You’re the one who doesn’t deserve my love because my love is one of a kind and anyone in the world would be lucky to have it! Now you can say you were the one that lost it.” But you don’t turn around and you let Haechan have the last words. You don’t know what they are as you walk away from him. 

~

Dear Y/N, 

I’m happy to have received your last letter. I see that you’ve done a lot of self reflection. I know it must’ve hurt but I can see that you’re ready to move on. Know that you did all of this on your own. I may have provided words of encouragement but you took all the necessary steps towards your happiness. I’m proud of you.

I hope that all goes well for you too. And don’t hesitate to reach out again. Just because you’ve moved on from the relationship you were in doesn’t mean I wouldn’t mind hearing from you again. Perhaps, if you find someone who does see you, you can let me know all about them. I’d be willing to hear from you again.

Lovingly,

Huang Renjun

~

Moving on from Haechan wasn’t so hard when you realized just how much more happy you felt. Even though you grieved the boy you left, you didn’t grieve the relationship. It would’ve been pointless to do so. Eventually, the light returned to your eyes. You didn’t look as tired as you used to. Jaemin would frequently tell you about how much you’ve changed for the better. Sometimes he’d think he’d say too much but you just observed how well he knew you. He even brought you your favorite flowers with a cup of coffee.

Instead of being alone at all the places you liked to frequent, Jaemin was there with you. Sometimes so was Mark. The arcade and music shop became your special places with Jaemin. You also made sure to never miss any Mark’s shows which he appreciated. It brought him near tears when you attended his fifth show in a row, watching how his best friend made every effort to be there. 

And when Jaemin asked you to be his girlfriend, you couldn’t help the feelings that spread in your chest. Jaemin loved you so much and he showed it to you. He listened and was always there when you needed him. He never left you behind, you were always next to him. All that mattered was already in your life, you just had to let go of those who didn’t.

~

This is Y/N please leave a message.

Hey baby, it’s me, we need to talk...please call me back.

Love, can you answer your phone? I need to talk to you please. Please just call back ok?

Why are you hurting me like this? You broke up with me on birth- at my birthday party and now you’re ignoring all of my calls? Could you just please fucking answer? I know you still get my messages. I know you do.

Hey it’s me again, Haechannie, the love of your life. Remember you would call me your love? I do. Listen, I’m sorry for being angry in my last voicemail. It was mean of me to talk like that and I’m really sorry but I was just feeling  frustrated that you won’t answer. I just need you to pick up the phone once love, so we can talk. Please, I’m sad that the only way I hear your voice is through your voicemail message. And I can’t seem to find you on campus please just call. I tried looking for you at work but you’re never there and I- you have reached the time limit for this voicemail.

H-hey, b-baby please p-please. I-im sorry. I know, I know I hurt you and I know you’re upset with m-me but please! I have to t-talk to you. I miss you so fucking much please please please call me baby please! F-fucking call me back! 

Y-Y/N why won’t you call me back? I can’t breathe. I’m suffocating. I can’t smile. I can’t do shit. I miss you so so so much. I miss kissing you. I want to kiss you. I want you. I need you. I need our cuddle sessions back. And I want us to go for ice cream again. Love, please just pick up your phone. 

I heard you’re d-dating Jaemiiin! That’s sooo f-fucking funny. I actshually for uh s-second thought that you..that you started d-dating that b-bastard. D-does he know? Does he know m-my love, that I, Lee Haechan! Was your first in everyyything? That I kissed you first? That I made love to you first? Held you first…I held you first. You fooled me love…huh fooled me goood.

Y/N f-for fucksakes! I love you I-I love you! I love you! Love me back baby please! Love me I need you to love me! L-love me. Love me because it hurts. It hurts so much. I’m a fucking mess. I’m fucking c-crying right now and I sound so pathetic. Is this what you want to hear? T-that I cry myself to s-sleep every night wishing you were next to me? And that I, I’ve been drinking too much. S-sometimes I feel like…I feel like I can see you. Like I could just…reach out and t-touch you. And then I reach out and you’re not there! Baby please- you have reached the time limit for this voicemail. 

Fucking automated piece of shit! I hate hearing it! I want to hear you! Please love me! Use me. Do anything you want with me baby but please don’t leave me. B-baby please pretty please! Play with my heart. I-I deserve it right? For hurting you, I deserve it and i-if you come back then I’ll let you do whatever you want with me. How does that sound, hmm? Sounds good right love? Please, don’t leave me. I’ll give you my love. You have it all.  Your love is one of a kind, your love is the one not worth losing. Come back and love me, I need you to love me, love me so it won’t hurt anymore.

The phone number you are calling is no longer in service.

The phone number you are calling is no longer in service.

The phone number you are calling is no longer in service.

The phone number you are calling is no longer in service.

The phone number you are calling is no longer in service.

The phone-

[nikonlady]

Jikook opinion - let’s discuss am I off base?

I would like your thoughts on an opinion I have. Please no hate, let’s discuss respectfully with each other. “Jikooks’s relationship”

The first ballad on Suchwita and then three of the songs on the karaoke clip were love songs asking for forgiveness for breaking up and asking the special someone to come back. Go back and read the lyrics to all the ballads JK sang. Now that some time has passed, I think Jimin’s Face album was about his breakup with Jk. Based on these songs, I think JK broke up with Jimin and greatly hurt him. JK decided this year that he wants Jimin back, thus all the lives this year pining for Jimin. I think this is the reason Jimin has gone so silent with his lives over the past year. He only came live when he had to promote his album. His playing/flirting with JK in the comments was his safety zone. 

I think the NY trip to support JK was their reconciliation. It may have partially been a work trip, but they had some private moments that, weeks later there still has been no mention of the trip or Jimin being there.

I think Suga was messing with JK when he brought up Jimin on the show. But the love songs, the playing of Serendipity play into Suga low key acknowledging their relationship.

Also, during RM’s live a couple of weeks ago, he made a comment about relationships and be careful about “exes”. This was the same time Jikook was in NY. I think this was a comment aimed at them.

I think Taehyung possibly played a role in causing tension in Jikooks relationship. To this day he continues to feed the ship as if there is more than friendship. Unfortunately, JK has done little to publicly discount the crumbs constantly thrown out, with maybe one exception. His live at 2am following his music show appearance where Tae showed up to support him. He had to clarify after telling the fans he does not keep up with or knows where the members are, yet Tae showed up to dance unbeknownst or invited by him. I think it was twofold as the other ship was calling JK a liar and he had to calm down the jikookers. I think Jimin knew Tae would show up as someone needed to be there for JK. Although I detest the other ship, I think they use it to keep the fandom engage with their releases. Is it needed in my opionion? NO, but that is the k-pop world. Also, Tae did not publicly support JImin’s solo release at all, whereas he did so with the other members thru IG/Weverse post, dance challenges, attending concert and music shows. Nothing for Jimin except a Weverse comment to J-hope asking if it was ok to curse in reference to praising Jimin’s song release.

Hope I don’t get hate, but I would love to have a respectful discussion about my thoughts.

[luventi]

💌 — ꒰ RANDOM VENTI & ZHONGLI HCS ꒱

genre. fluff + suggestive + mentions of drinking.

VENTI :

i bet he cheekily asks to taste wine off your lips

he gets super flirty when intoxicated, imagine him dragging your chair closer to you so he can whisper and giggle in your ear

i think he would love if you bake for him! there’s nothing like feeding him sweet lemon cakes on a breezy afternoon just outside of the city

he would 100% lick the crumbs off your fingers

if you’re in the bath and you won’t allow him to come in, he’ll sit outside your door playing music on his lyre and sings a song about how beautiful you are

he cheats in every game he plays with you

loves picnic dates! something about them are so freeing and romantic, watching the wind blow through your clothes and basking under the sun with his head on your lap

venti smells like the sun on a spring afternoon

i think he doesn’t sleep too often, partially because he has nightmares that plague him but also he enjoys watching you cuddle into his side and sleep

he’s very clingy, sometimes he’ll randomly show up with a gust of wind and attach himself to you with his head resting on your shoulder

his winks are enough to make you swoon

ZHONGLI :

such a sweetheart, he hardly ever gets angry or raises his voice at you, he’s understanding and kind, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be rough

romantic dinner dates!!! can you imagine holding hands with him across the table while the candle light is illuminating his features?

he has an acquired taste, so birthday shopping for him will definitely be hard, but he’ll love anything you give him because it’s from you

loves for you to hold onto his bicep, it’s more his style rather than holding hands

loves to make fun of you, it’s so cute to see you all pouty and angry at his teasing

feeds you because he knows you love it

has wandering hands, especially on date nights

his kisses are always passionate and quick, never in public though he has an image to uphold and he’s a very private man

he’s very appreciative to you if you volunteer to help him with his errands for the funeral parlor

lowkey kind of dense so you’ll have to be upfront and honest with him, but he likes when you use your words and ask for what you want

he gifts you flowers every week <3

it’s not common for him to use your name, it’s always darling or sweetheart maybe even honey if you like that

his side eye and smirks??! so attractive >.<

[duvetsandpillows]

Lucky One

Pete Davidson x Reader 

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Swearing, mention of needles, slight angst, drug use

A/N: This is my first Pete fic but I think I will definitely be writing more. Please let me know what you think!

I sat in bed, joint in one hand, lighter in the other. I’d been staring at the wall for the past half hour or so, drowning in my thoughts, forgetting the joint I’d been fiddling with was there to be smoked.

I was thinking about everything and nothing all at once. Have I taken my antidepressant? What do they do with the bagel holes? You’re gonna be alone forever. Don’t forget your earring is behind the back left leg of the desk. New thoughts beginning before the last one could end. I was exhausted yet I hadn’t done anything to warrant feeling so drained. I’d only left my bed to piss.

“Hey you home?” I glanced over at my door, reality setting back in, before realizing how messy my bed was; sketchbook and pencils scattered everywhere, weed crumbs and ash from not paying attention to what I was doing and empty monster cans. I kicked as much as I could off the end of the bed before putting the long forgotten joint to my lips and sparking it. The door slowly opened, Pete standing in the doorway holding a bag and a coffee.

“Whatcha doing in bed B?” he asked climbing into the bed handing me the coffee. I took a toke and thanked him while passing him the joint.

“I just don’t feel like moving. I feel like shit, my brain won’t stop for just a second. I just want everything to stop.” My voice breaking as I began to fight back tears. He blew smoke into the air, putting his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side, handing me the joint.

“Breathe B, you’re gonna be okay. I know that sounds like bullshit but I’m here to help you through it.” I took a take and wiped a stray tear from my eye. “It’s always been me and you hasn’t it, that’s not gonna stop now. Did you take your antidepressant today?”

“I can’t remember,” I squeaked, letting the tears win the battle. Pete put his other arm around my chest and squeezed tight, resting his hand on the back of my head and rubbing his thumb.

He would whisper little pick me-ups every few minutes while I cried. “At least you didn’t walk straight into a street light like I did.” I looked up to see him pointing to a small bruise on his forehead. “I saw a woman carrying a dog in a baby sling thing and then boom! Street Light.” I giggled before taking a deep breath and wiping my tears with my sleeves.

“I guess you could say she threw you off your rhythm.” He rolled his eyes and pushed my head playfully before chuckling.

We’d been friends practically our whole lives, yet it was rare for us to talk about deep shit. Not because we didn’t care but we were good at talking each others minds off all the bullshit. 

“Movie, smoke, munch? I brought gushers and twizzlers.”

“Only if I get to pick.”

“Obviously, you always pick.” I scoffed and sat up, rolling my eyes.

“Bullshit, we constantly watching The Mule.”

“Not my fault you can’t appreciate a masterpiece,” he said as he grabbed my rolling tray from the end of the bed and I began flicking through Netflix for something to watch.

“Your hair looks nice by the way,” he mumbled, eyes focused on rolling the joint. I glanced over at my reflection in the mirror, I looked as if I’d just climbed out of the hedge. I smiled and thanked him, deciding to put on Knocked Up.

Pete told me what he’d been up to all week and who the guests were gonna be while we watched the film. I made him a twizzler ring and he attempted to make me a bracelet but he couldn’t work out how to get the knot to stay tight.” After a couple more joints I sat up on my knees and faced him.

“Could... I maybe colour in your tattoos?” I asked, placing my hand on his leg to stay balanced, realizing how high I was after not moving for so long.

“Yeah of course, which one first?” I smiled and pointed to the unicorn on his arm and leant off the end of the bed to grab my pens, Pete grabbing hold of my foot as I almost fell off. After I’d finished the unicorn I moved onto the direwolf underneath. Pete was flicking through the pages of my sketchbook as I added icy blue to the eyes.

“Y’know,” he started, passing me a joint, “I reckon you could be a tattoo artist. You could even practice on me.” I stopped and looked at him a bit taken back.

“I’ve never thought about it before.”

“Maybe you should.”

Once I finished the direwolf I looked up to see Pete had dozed off, I smiled and pulled a blanket over him, moving the sketchbook off his lap. I rolled a joint and glanced at the open drawing of a group of clouds I’d been working on but hadn’t yet worked out what should accompany them.

I thought about what Pete said and picked up the sketchbook and a pencil. I smoked while drawing Frank the bunny’s head from Donnie Darko. It was my favourite film and Pete had watched it with me countless times.

After an hour or so I finished the outline and most of the infill with different shades of blue. I felt Pete roll over and put his arm across my lap. I looked down to see him, eyes half open, observing my drawing.

“That’s amazing.” His voice gruff and low.

“Thank you,” I said passing him a monster from my bedside table. He sat up partially and took a sip before handing it back to me. “Good nap?” He nodded and laid back down into my side.

“You should put that on me,” He kicked his leg out from under the blanket and pointed to the side of his thigh. “Here would be perfect.”

“If you’d like.” He sat up again and gently tore the sketch out of the book.

“Come on then.” I frowned and tilted my head slightly. “There’s a guy that could do this now, you could get one too?”

I stared at him in a bit of shock, not expecting him to actually want one of my pieces on his body. I thought he was saying it just to be nice. Also as I’d never considered getting a tattoo before. Not because I didn’t like them but more because I was nervous; I wasn’t great with needles and if tattoo’s would suit me.

“You up for it?”

“What if I look awful with one?” I blurted, Pete’s smile morphed into confusion.

“Why would you look awful?” You always look great.” I could feel my cheeks getting warm and I couldn’t help but ever so slightly smile. “Plus I think you’d look hot with one,” he mumbled handing me the sketchbook, open to a small drawing of a sheep I’d done high while watching Shaun the Sheep.

“It’s small, if you want it to be hidden then it’s easy.” I looked down at the doodle and thought about it for a moment.

“Fuck it lets go.”

I sat on a chair next to Pete watching as the tattoo artist, Jon, carefully traced over the light purple outline in dark blue ink. I began adding to my sheep. A few clouds in the background, similar to the ones on Pete’s.

“What you doing?” I handed him the paper, glancing over at his leg, in awe at how it was turning out. I looked back at Pete who was smiling at the drawing. I held out the pencil to him, when he didn’t notice I poked his arm with it.

“Ow, dick,” he said pouting and rubbing his arm. “What am I meant to do with this?”

“Add something to it, you got a piece of me,” I pointed to his leg. “Your turn.”

“I can’t draw like you and-”

“And I don’t care. Draw.”

While Pete drew, not phased at all by the needle going in and out of his leg, I chatted with Jon, asking him question about how he became a tattoo artist and what it’s like. I was slowly becoming more interested the more I watched him work. Once he was done he turned to me.

“You ready?” he asked, I nodded nervously and Pete passed him the design. Pete swapped places with me after taking a look at it in the floor length mirror. I decided to get it on my arm as I decided I wanted to always be able to see it now Pete had added to it. I told them I didn’t want to see it until it was finished, wanting Pete’s addition to be a surprise. I looked over at Pete, nerves starting to kick in a little.

“Have I ever told you I’m not brilliant with needles?” He chuckled and took my hand in his.

“Yep,” I winced as the needle hit my skin. “Like the time you gave blood because you thought that nurse was cute and threw up all over him before fainting.” I chuckled before biting the inside of my cheek and gripped his hand tight. “You’re good, just keep your eyes this way,”

Pete kept chatting with me and rubbing his thumb on the back of my hand, keeping me distracted from the pain.

“Should I be nervous with what you drew? It’s just clicked how much trust I’ve given you.” He pursed his lips, holding back either as smile or a laugh. “Pete...”

“Nah nah nah, it’s not that bad, but you said to add a bit of me. Trust me you’ll love it.” I raised my eyebrows before gripping his hand again, feeling a muscle in my arm unintentionally spasm.

“You’re good, it happens sometimes, we’re almost done here.”

After ten more minutes it was all done and he was wiping it up. It was aching it a little but I was really excited to see it.

“You ready to see it?” I nodded and looked at my arm to see the best tattoo I could imagine. The clouds were a beautiful combination of greys and whites, my sheep now with a spliff in its mouth and a second, slightly wonky looking, sheep with a spliff also in its mouth and sunglasses on. It kind of looked like a child drew the second sheep but I loved it even more for that.

“I put our initials at the bottom so we don’t forget who is who.” I giggled looking at his scruffy handwriting underneath. “So... what do you think?”

“I fucking love it!” I said wrapping my arms around him hugging him as tight as I could. “Thank you Pete.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek and let Jon wrap my arm up in cling film.

We grabbed some Taco Bell on the way home, I was designated DJ and he driver. I was, questionably, rapping along to Colson and Corpse’s new song while Pete laughed at me. He slipped his hand into mine, giving it a small squeeze and continued driving and started rapping along as if that was a normal for us to hold hands. I smiled and gave his a squeeze back even though I was a bit shocked. Shocked but yet it felt normal.

“You can roll the next one, my arm aches,” I said flopping onto my bed.

“Is that gonna be your excuse for the next week?” 

“Did it work?” I looked up to see him shaking his head and chuckling as he picked up the rolling tray.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” I smiled and winked as it sat up. 

“You’re lucky too, you get to look at this cute face all the time.” Pete leant forward and took my hand, pulling me into his lap.

“What would you say, if I asked you out... to dinner or something?” I wrapped my arms around his neck and furrowed my eyebrows.

“What like a date?” His smile and confidence drained from his face immediately and I had to force myself to hold back a laugh.

“It doesn’t have to be no, I just- aw fuck.” I started pissing myself laughing, holding onto him tight to keep my balance.

“Yes I’d love to go on a date, if you hurry up and roll that joint, I teased winking at him, swinging myself off his lap. “I’ll even put on The Mule yeah?”

“I’m definitely the lucky one.”

[lucas-koh]

Stitches - Bryce Lahela x MC XI

Parts 1-10 linked in bio!

Only somewhat canon compliant.

Song: sex (catching feelings) - EDEN

Rating: M; sexual content, swearing, mentions of death, drinking

Word Count: 4261

Taglist: @lahellacute @lahamseiroshoe @anotherbeingsworld @fuseboxmusebox @choicesficwriterscreations @bubblelaureno @bratzlahela @eleanorbloom @bryceslahela @thegreentwin @kelseaaa || please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from this list

Chapter Eleven: Tequila Flavoured Sutures

And ring in the New Year they did, for hours and hours and hours. There was little concern about the noise they were making due to the fact that everyone was passed out from alcohol by that point.

—-

It took almost the entire month of January until Suki had a day off, in fact, two days off. She skipped over her birthday on the 18th, opting for takeout and a movie (and not telling anyone it was her birthday so they wouldn’t make a fuss). Yay to twenty-eight. Her plans for her days off initially involved those chips and candy she didn’t get to indulge in before; but then she thought about Bryce’s words the last time ‘…and you didn’t even think to invite me?’ And immediately caved. She did want to see him after such a long time. Especially after how he was in bed at New Years…

Santa Fe: 👃yours?

Scalpel Jockey: i finish in a couple hours?

Santa Fe: cool, i’ll be there

Scalpel Jockey: 😈

So after a couple of hours Suki arrived at Bryce’s place. Pretty much as soon as she stepped through the door she was rushing Bryce’s shirt off.

“Woah, someone’s eager.”

“It’s been a little while.”

—-

A chunk of time and a few rounds later, Bryce and Suki caught their breath on his bed. Suki wasn’t ready for the night to end, she was pretty horny still, and she had the day off tomorrow, too.

“Hey,” she grinned with mischief and sudden inspiration in her eyes, she had missed out on birthday fun after all, “wanna get drunk and do body shots?”

“Absolutely,” Bryce bit his lip and his eyelids sunk with desire. Suki already knew this would be an interesting night.

They partially dressed and headed into the kitchen to grab Bryce’s alcohol. He crouched down to a little cupboard in the corner of his kitchen.

“Oh.” He pulled a bottle of rum from the cupboard. There was barely anything left in it.

“Shit,” Suki laughed.

“I can grab something from the convenience store?”

“Eh, why not, I’ll come along.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Some fresh air might be nice after all that… exertion.”

So Bryce and Suki put on the rest of their clothes and headed out to walk to the store. The late January cold was biting but neither of them noticed much.

On the walk they talked about everything and nothing, like they were old friends catching up after too long away. Suki tried to ignore the fact that their hands brushed when they walked too close together. That the cold metal of his rings sent a jolt through the nerves in her fingers. She also tried to ignore the fact that made her think about holding that hand. Back on the first day, when they’d danced to The Stone Roses, when he’d asked if she wanted to be adored and made her scramble under his gaze. And then the many times she’d gripped his hand while he was fucking her into oblivion, letting it press her own into the mattress with pressure, his fingers fitting between her own desperately and needing like puzzle pieces. Her nails digging into the back of his hand and vice versa. She remembered how that first time and all the times since their hands had felt right, like an old key and lock with a very specific shape.

Once they reached the store, they picked up two bottles of tequila, and some fresh limes.

“I’ll pay,” Bryce rushed in front of her, “I’ll keep whatever’s left over.”

“Not if we drink it all,” she teased.

“That’s 70cl each, I think not,” Bryce chuckled as the cashier put the bottles in their over-used old plastic bag for them. Suki pulled the full bag from the counter once Bryce had paid.

“Can’t handle it?”

“Thanks man,” Bryce said to the cashier and they began to make their way outside. “As doctors I think we both know 70cl is like, death limits.”

“Long term, maybe,” she shrugged. When she saw the look Bryce was giving her, she added, “I’m joking, you dumbass! I’m not sure why you even bought two bottles.”

“Eh, saves coming down here again.”

“Lazy-ass.”

They pushed open the door to step into the cold outside. Bryce shook his head affectionately and laughed at Suki, despite the conversation being barely funny.

As he laughed, Bryce stumbled backwards off the step up to the shop and into a man drinking just outside the store.

“Oops, sorry man,” he grinned an apology. It was lighthearted and accidental and that should’ve been the end of it. But this dude did not look happy.

“Hey Buddy, are you looking for a fight?”

“No, not at all – just an accident, dude.”

“Are you fuckin’ sure?” The man signalled down to the ground where a vodka bottle was smashed into large pieces.

“I’m sorry, I’ll buy you another.”

Suki was beginning to feel very stressed. Confrontation was her least favourite thing ever. She pulled one of the tequila bottles from her bag.

“Here, sir. Have this. He really didn’t mean to break it.”

“Tell your boyfriend to be more careful,” he spat.

Suki didn’t want to provoke him any more by correcting him, but she also didn’t want him to keep talking smack. Hearing this guy get so worked up over Bryce’s mere mistake was enough to give Suki a major adrenaline and confidence boost.

“He tripped, and then apologised immediately. We offered to buy you another bottle, and even offered up our own. Maybe you need to calm down.” Her voice was slightly raised and she was starting to see red from anger.

“Suki-“ Bryce started, holding a hand out as though to shield her.

But this man was very intoxicated and clearly in the mood to be a dick, because he walked over to Suki and shoved her to the floor. It was like everything was moving in fast forward because it happened in just seconds. And then all of a sudden Suki was on the other side of the coin and in slow motion, stumbling down to the concrete. In the process the tequila in the dishevelled bag in her hand also smashed through the worn plastic and to the floor and Suki, in trying to break her fall, stumbled back on her hands. She winced as her hand dug right into one particularly sharp shard of glass.

“Shit.”

The man’s eyes widened as he noticed what he’d done and the absolute rage and contempt on Bryce’s face. Bryce was furious. Suki had never seen him so mad. Not even that day he’d lost the surgery. And it wasn’t cartoon smoke-out-the-ears fury either, it was scary. Pure. The drunkard was clearly terrified by Bryce’s expression and his tightly clenching fists and he scarpered.

“HEY! ASSHOLE!” Bryce shouted after him, running down the road after him a bit. Suki was surprised at how fast he was running. He got a little ways down the sidewalk when the other man crossed a traffic-filled road. Bryce looked back and saw Suki on the floor - he knew his priority was her.

He returned to where she was now sat on the floor, examining the glass shoved into her hand and crumbs of concrete around the area, too. The aroma of tequila mixed with blood was overwhelming. Suki was honestly feeling a mixture of shell-shock and dizzy headiness.

“Fuck,” Bryce said, crouching beside her and taking her hand in his like the very limb was made of glass. “I’ll fucking kill him. Does anywhere else hurt? Are you okay emotionally?”

His deep brown eyes searched hers, desperate concern clouding them. All traces of the absolute anger of before were gone, only solicitude and tunnelled focus on the woman before him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Maybe a bruise on my butt but I’ve had worse. What a dick.”

Bryce held the underside of her hand in both of his, securing her wrist steady, and scrunched his face up as he inspected it. “We need to get the glass out of this.”

“Easy, it’s only the one piece.” Suki tried not to yelp as she pulled the shard from her palm.

“Suki!” Bryce chastised.

“It’s all good, see?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just do that after nine years of medical training.”

“It’s fine,” she assured him, hoping her eyes were telling him so too. Sure, it hurt, but it wasn’t enough to make a big deal out of.

“You should let me take you to the emergency room.”

“Bryce. It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

He winced as he looked at the blood still pouring from the gash in her hand. “I swear I’ll deck that guy if I ever see him again. It’ll heal much better if you go to the ER and get stitches. The last thing a doctor needs is nerve damage.”

“Bryce.”

“Fine, then you’re coming back to mine and letting me stitch it.”

“Bryce!” Suki was feeling like a broken record, but honestly at that moment, a combination of shock and the odd feeling Bryce’s eyes gave her was making it a little difficult to access her full word library.

“Don’t wear my name out,” he winked, keeping one hand on hers and placing the other round her waist as he helped pull her up from the ground. She was sure to grab the unaffected tequila bottle and limes with her functioning hand.

“I could’ve stood up by myself you know, my legs are fine.”

“I’m keeping this hand so you don’t do anything else to it,” he said, taking Suki’s wrist to hold her bleeding hand above her heart, and began to pull her along with him. She sighed but let him pull her along, anything to get him not to go after that guy. She didn’t need the further mortification.

The walk back had lost the vibe of the walk there; solemn and sober. Mostly filled with Bryce muttering things about the man and retained asking of Suki’s well-being.

Bryce held her wrist the entire way, catching most of the leftover dripping blood on his own hand.

They reached Bryce’s apartment and he unlocked the door for them, closed it behind him, and then led Suki over to the sofa.

“Stay there,” he instructed before disappearing into the kitchen. Seconds later he re-emerged with a sizeable first aid kit.

“That’s big,” Suki laughed, a little more colour in her cheeks now that they were inside, “I would say you’re compensating for something but...”

“But you know I’m not,” he grinned smugly as he perched beside her.

Bryce was ever so delicate as he held Suki’s hand and cleaned away the blood with an antiseptic wipe. She winced the first time the cool chemical wipe made contact with the gash which caused Bryce to immediately stop and look at her. She gave him a little nod to continue. He did his best to be careful as he moved the skin around a bit under his phone flashlight to see if any glass was lingering.

“I swear Suki if this heals and there’s still glass in there because you wouldn’t let me take you to the ER, you’ll never hear the end of this.”

“Fine, but I trust your 20/20 vision and steady scalpel hand.”

“As you should.”

Once the wound was clean and Bryce had checked multiple times for fragments of glass, he pulled his suture kit from the box.

Watching Bryce steady the curved needle end in some tweezers was artful. He was so practised, so sure. The way his pretty features furrowed together slightly in focus was magnetising. She was amazed at how steady his hands were, how such large appendages could look so fine and delicate. Each stitch pulled through was neat and even, Suki’s eyes flicking between the stitches and Bryce’s facial expression. It was piercing her skin but it was like she couldn’t feel it. His other hand remained beneath hers, holding it up and keeping it from shaking. Then Bryce secured the stitches and started to wrap some bandage around for extra protection.

Bryce finished off his bandaging by tucking it in at the back of her hand. He held her hand, still.

“It’s going to scar,” he sighed.

“What’s a doctor without a few scars?”

“Touché.”

“Thank you for doing this.”

“It was no question.”

Suki couldn’t help but notice the way Bryce’s thumb soothed the back of the hand it was holding. She looked up to the clock. It had only been an hour since they’d left for drinks. Eventful hour.

Eventually Bryce seemed to notice his hand and removed it from hers.

“What about those body shots then?” She smirked.

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s a cut on my hand, I was planning on doing these shots with my mouth…”

Bryce raised his eyebrows and licked his lips. “Well, we did manage to salvage one bottle.”

“Not to mention it has been secured by ‘the best surgical intern at Edenbrook’.”

“Oh you’re damn fucking right. Fine, you know how to convince a guy. We’re gonna take it careful though, okay?”

“Deal. On which I will not shake my hand.”

He laughed and got up to fetch the shot glasses from the kitchen, beckoning her over.

“The counter will be best.”

Suki laid down first, letting Bryce slip her top over her head (with which he was incredibly careful with her hand), and slide her pants down her legs until she was laying on his kitchen island in only her underwear.

“Now, this is a sight that could encourage me to be in the kitchen more,” Bryce laughed, trailing a finger up and down her arm and causing her to tremble.

“Still haven’t learned any recipes, huh?”

“No. But there’s no way in hell we’re talking about cooking right now.”

Bryce licked a finger and trailed it slowly between Suki’s breasts, then sprinkled some salt over that area. He rested the lime wedge on her stomach. Finally he filled a shot glass with the spirit and placed it in her mouth. She was trying not to laugh too hard so that she didn’t spill the tequila all over her face.

“Ready?” He smirked. She lifted her good hand in an ‘ok’ sign.

As Bryce leaned down towards Suki’s chest, his face was hungry, craving. That look was making Suki’s stomach flip all kinds of directions. He sensuously licked his tongue up between her breasts, catching each grain of salt. He laughed a little as he moved to collect the shot glass in his own mouth. Their lips touched briefly as he secured it in his mouth, then he threw his head back and downed the shot immediately. Then rather swiftly Bryce moved down to Suki’s stomach to suck all the juice from the lime and counter the sharp tequila flavour.

“Okay, that was a really good idea,” he exhaled in the way one does after a strong shot of alcohol. Bryce took another three shots from various parts of Suki’s body; for the last two she lay on her stomach and he used spots such as the nape of her neck, small of her back, and asscheek. The two of them were a messy mix of laughing the whole time, and really enjoying the whole thing.

“Right? My turn now.”

Bryce and Suki switched places, and he threw all his clothing bar underpants off towards the lounge.

Suki used her tongue to dampen the line in the middle of Bryce’s abs for the salt, balanced the shot glass precariously on the flat part of his chest, and placed the lime in his mouth.

She was slow and tantalising as she lapped up the salt, swift as she took the shot, and then there was the lime. She leant down to suck out the sour juice, but kept the lime in his mouth the entire time she drained it. It was an odd but exciting semi-kiss.

After a couple more shots Suki had a new idea.

“Wait, wait,” she laughed, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“What?”

“What if… I poured a bit on your stomach and licked it up…” she was laughing a lot, but it was obvious the idea appealed a lot to her.

“Do it.”

She placed a hand on his stomach to steady him before she planned to carefully pour the liquid over him.

“Hey, careful with that hand,” Bryce nudged, noticing it pressed flat on his body.

“Yes, yes, Dr. Lahela,” she teased.

Time seemed to fly by as the pair took shot after shot, broken up by messy intoxicated kisses, neither realising that Suki’s tolerance was far lower than Bryce’s. After losing count, they wordlessly abandoned the game, relocating to dance around stupidly in their underwear in the living room. Suki may or may not have been swigging tequila directly from the bottle at that point.

A number of songs played and then:

“I’m… pretty drunk,” Suki laughed, closing her eyes and letting herself sway a bit.

“Same!” Bryce enthused, before Suki began to topple over towards the sofa, “woah! Okay, you’re more drunk than me.” He giggled as he caught her fall. Now he was sitting on the floor with Suki’s jelly-like body in his arms. He kept a weary eye on her bandaged hand.

Yes, Bryce was drunk, but the moment he needed to be sensible or protective it was like a switch went off in his brain.

Her eyes were still shut and a blissful smile spread over her face. “Kiss me.”

Bryce leaned in and gave her a chaste peck to the lips.

“I know you can kiss better than that,” she echoed his words from their epic kiss.

“Not when you’re drunker than me I can’t.”

“Boohoo.”

“We should get you home. I’ll come with, I’m not sure I’m comfortable putting you in an Uber alone.”

“I don’t think I can walk very far, Bryyyceee.”

“Okay, you can have my bed then. I’ll take the sofa.”

“Nooooo,” she brought up her limp hands to grab either side of his face, visibly wincing a bit when the bandaged one made contact with his face. “Sleep with me.”

“Clothed? Sure.” Bryce took her damaged hand in his own and held it away from any pain risks.

“Nopeeee,” Suki’s remaining clumsy hand began to slide down Bryce’s chest and fiddle with the band of his boxers. He laughed and grabbed them both with his free hand to stop her.

“I’m not having sex with you again tonight.”

“Meanie.”

“Okay.” He chuckled again.

“But will you sleep with me? Like, to make sure I don’t throw up in the night or something.”

“Sure, miss tequila.”

Bryce stood and pulled Suki up with him, her eyes fluttering open at the movement, and supported her in the walk to his bedroom.

“Are you cold? I have some pyjamas if you’d like,” he offered when they got there, still holding her tightly to his side.

She shook her head, but didn’t seem sure. She looked up to Bryce with wide eyes and a startled expression like she was only just really seeing him.

“Bathroom,” she choked out, and Bryce rushed her towards his en-suite. He supported her all the way to her eventually emptying the contents of her stomach into his toilet bowl.

He held her hair back from her face as she very inelegantly upchucked into Bryce’s toilet a few times.

“I’m sorry,” she looked up at him, eyes wide and apologetic, “I didn’t mean to drink so much I’m just…” nervous around you. Stupidly feeling ways I shouldn’t for my fuck Buddy. Wanted you to see me as fun and free-spirited. Now I’m just embarrassing myself.

“You don’t need to explain yourself. It’s okay.”

Once it was clear nothing else was coming out, Bryce helped Suki drink from a glass of water, and briefly left the room for her to pee.

Bryce was gentle as he ran a spare (unused) toothbrush around her mouth and directed her head to the sink each time to spit.

Suki wasn’t coherent enough to ramble all her apologies and thanks’, but she was so grateful. Could this man stop being so amazing, please? I’m trying to stop being weird, here.

Eventually Bryce was able to help Suki into some of his pyjamas, somehow without looking at all. Seeing a very drunk naked girl is not the same, even if he had seen said girl naked many times prior. Then he helped her into bed and she collapsed against his pillow like a rag doll. He climbed into bed beside her, careful to keep his distance.

“Bryce…” she slurred, the sleep clear in her voice. “You’re a really great guy. I’m glad we’re…” Suki was going to say friends, but it felt wrong coming out of her mouth at that moment. “I’m glad I know you.”

“Yeah, I’m glad I know you too.” Bryce reached up a hand to stroke her cheek. She sighed into his hand, moving a bit cat-like.

“Since you wouldn’t fuck me, will you at least cuddle me?”

Bryce laughed. “Of course.”

“You are so great. So great. Great guy.” As she mumbled these words drunkenly it was clear the unconsciousness was taking over.

Bryce rolled towards her and cradled her into his chest, holding her tightly as though it had been a long time coming.

Bryce’s breaths came gently over Suki’s forehead. And after a few minutes, when he was sure she’d fallen asleep, he spoke ever so quietly.

“If only you knew what a screw up I was,” he muttered. Suki may have been drunk and spewing shit she wouldn’t sober, but her ears were working fine. And she would remember this in the morning. Despite the intoxication she knew such out of pocket words would be something she’d recall. She knew then to keep as still as she could, not alerting to him that she was awake or coherent.

—-

When Suki woke up, her pillow was hard. Her duvet was gripping her waist kind of tightly, too. As she nuzzled into the pillow her senses were invigorated with a sudden and familiar scent: suddenly most of the nights events clocked in her brain.

Sex with Bryce. Walk to convenience store. Accidental beef with drunk man. Damaged hand. Bryce stitching up said hand. Body shots. Lots of body shots. Random blank moment. Oh god - throwing up in Bryce’s toilet. Being dressed by a closed-eye Bryce. Finally falling into bed. Those words.

What the hell could he have meant by that last night? If only I knew what a screw up he was? As far as I’m concerned right now he’s an angel sent from above to deal with a problematically drunk Suki.

He was breathing gently beneath her, quiet noises at each exhale. She noticed as she listened to the rhythm of his heart, that her heart was beating in time with his.

Maybe she should’ve left. After all, she’d ended up causing a lot of trouble for Bryce. And, she’d stayed the night. Maybe if she left before he woke up it wouldn’t count that she’d broken the rule.

But before she could truly agonise over her decision, Bryce stirred, blinking awake and looking down at her.

“Hey,” he smiled. To Suki’s surprise his arm remained around her waist. Okay, I’m surprised he doesn’t hate me. Then again, he wouldn’t be the type to be open about hating someone.

“Hey,” she replied quietly, looking up at him from his chest. “So… I was pretty drunk last night.”

“Yeah. I thought I was too and then you fell over. The decline was pretty quick after that.”

“I’m so sorry. That you had to see me like that, look after me, and then I hijacked your bed too… it wasn’t appropriate of me and it was unfair on you.”

“It’s okay, Suki. You’d do the same for me. We’re friends and making sure you’re okay and looked after is important to me,” he nodded sincerely before grinning and adding, “plus, now I have plenty of blackmail material.”

“God I was awful wasn’t I?”

He chuckled.

Oh shit. “Did I say anything really bad? If I did please ignore it because I talk out of my ass when I’m drunk I’m sure it was utter nonsense.”

“If you did, I think I’ll keep it to myself.”

Ughhhhh. She groaned loudly and buried her face into his chest so that she didn’t have to see that stupid smirk. Now my mind will race about what I could’ve said for the rest of time.

Suki actually felt like hitting Bryce as his large hand slowly soothed her back.

He had to stop doing so much for her, being so exemplary, because it was adding to a problem that had been brewing in Suki for a while. He’d comforted her in the supply closet twice, he’d looked after Tommy, he’d held her hair back while she was sick and let her stay the night, and he’d stitched up her wound so carefully and precisely. He’d even nearly beat up that guy for her.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit.

She’d broken her promise, because it wasn’t just about sex anymore. Truthfully, maybe it never was.

There was absolutely no way she could swing it any longer. Suki Moore liked Bryce Lahela. As more than a friend, more than a body. She was enamoured by him, and had no clue what to do about it.

[annawoodhull]

bring good news of a world so newly born

Requested by: me and my self-indulgent need for Ben and grilled cheese

Word Count: 1616

Prompt: Outlander AU in which Abigail introduces Ben to grilled cheese. That's the fic.

(Song title from '39 by Queen because I'm trash.)

There were a few inconveniences of being a woman from the future who now lived in late 18th century America. No air conditioning, no ibuprofen, but worst of all, no snacks. Late night runs to the convenience store a few blocks from her apartment with friends were the epitome of any college girl’s life, especially during finals time. And now she didn’t even have that!

But there was one thing she refused to give up (besides her bra if she could help it) was her favorite foods. By God, if she could find ways to modify them to make them work with what this time presented to her, she was bound and determined. The first attempt at this would be grilled cheese. If this went well, maybe she could attempt pizza.

Thankfully, she was able to purchase a loaf of bread and cheese from a few merchants in the town, but the butter was more difficult to come by. She had to resort to the old fashioned way, directly from the cow herself. Going through the process of letting the milk rest and then skimming the creak, or whatever the fuck it was called, off the top before she could churn it with a dasher. It was incredibly labor intensive and more work than she had expected, but again, her stubborn Irish ass was going to see this through.

She hadn’t intended to inform Ben of her little project until later on in the week, when they had agreed to meet. Between his battles both on and off the field, a lot of the major’s time was accounted for. She still insisted she would make a good asset to the Culper Ring, but he stubbornly refused to allow it. She suspected she knew the reason, but honestly thought it was ridiculous. You’d think you’d want a spy on your side who already knows how everything will play out.

Anyway, Abigail was sitting on the porch of her small cabin – abandoned by some previous squatter dweller type – and working on churning the butter. Her sleeves were rolled up and beads of perspiration rolled down the sides of her neck, trickling down the front of her bodice. She wrinkled her nose but kept on going. Sheesh, this was labor intensive as fuck. Twenty-first century people really had it made, though there were the Amish to consider.

Too busy plunging the dasher up and down while churning the butter, Abigail was too preoccupied to pay any attention her surroundings. By the time she heard a horse’s snort, she looked up and was pleasantly surprised to see Ben dismounting and leading the beautiful Gaius over towards a paddock to graze.

Then he turned around and took one look at her, a good long look that made Abigail flush from head to toe. She didn’t have to look in a mirror to know she looked like a train wreck, blonde hair all askew, face flushed and damped with sweat. She’d stopped her churning the moment she saw him and nearly forgot all about it when he approached her.

“Never pegged you for the type for churning butter,” Ben observed with a amused grin, “though I’m not surprised you’d be stubborn enough to try.”

She grinned. “There is a reason to my madness, Tallmadge.” She went to wipe her forehead when she remembered she couldn’t let the butter rest. With a tiny grunt, she resumed her work, working the dasher up and down in a gradual rhythm. Hey, she was starting to get the hang of this! “I’m cooking for us tonight and then forgot I couldn’t just buy everything in one place, like I used to.”

“You must be rich, from where you come from,” he commented.

Abigail laughed at that, thinking of all the student loan debt she had accumulated with both her bachelors and graduate degrees. On second thought, maybe it was a good thing she fell through the stones when she did. “Hardly. But it was convenient, so I wouldn’t have to resort to this.”

Ben’s gaze flickered between her face and to her hands, observing as she worked it rather well. Her hands twisting with purposeful intent, with increasing speed. It reminded him of something Caleb had often teased him about, something he hadn’t done in quite some time. And now that he had this visual in front of him…

Abigail glanced up, having no idea where his line of thought had taken him, and found that his face was now just as red as the coat of a British officer. “Are you all right?” she asked, confused and mildly concerned.

Clearing his throat, Ben shifted his position, angling himself so that he was now facing partially away from her. Odd. “Yes, just a bit… flushed from the journey. Could use some water, perhaps.”

Abigail nodded, understanding. “I just made a few bottles from the creek. Help yourself and cool down.”

He thanked her and practically took off like a bat out of hell into the cabin. Abigail continuing churning, increasing the pace. He was an odd duck, that one. A very attractive and delicious looking one but odd nevertheless.

It took quite a while to achieve the finished product, but with Ben’s company, from a suspicious far distance, the time just flew by. She carried her butter inside, grinning in triumph at her accomplishment and held it out proudly for him to inspect. He nodded his approval with no small amount of affection, which made her feel even more accomplished.

“So what are you preparing for us this evening?” he asked, “since you went to all the trouble churning butter.”

“Nothing terribly fancy I’m afraid, at least from my time,” Abigail admitted, “but in my opinion, it’s one of the finest delicacies in the world. A grilled cheese.”

Brows furrowed, Ben titled his head, much like a confused puppy. “A… what?”

“Trust me, you’ll like it,” she promised. She went to work on working the hearth, which Ben had to assist her with at several points. While he helped, she told him all about stoves and the different kinds that ran on gas versus electricity, both of which mystified and fascinated him. The more time she spent in that time and with him specifically, the more comfortable she felt sharing different tidbits of the future. The very knowledge there was a future for the country that he was fighting for was enough to give him hope. The thought of being the source, or at least associated with the source, of his inspiration made her feel things she had no right to be feeling.

Yet, she was completely and hopelessly attracted to the him.

Once everything was settled, she went to work on slicing the bread and cheese, which she set on separate plates. Then she buttered the bread generously on each slice before setting the buttered side down in the skillet, quickly followed by the cheese and the other slice of bread. She brought the skillet over the makeshift grilled and watched with amazement as the fire worked its magic.

It didn’t take too long before she flipped it over. A few minutes of cooking on the other side, she pulled back the skillet carefully and plated his grilled cheese before working on hers. It was a little tricky getting the sandwiches out of the skillet, but she had to admit, they didn’t turn out half bad.

“Do you want yours cut in half or diagonally?” she asked, right after she performed an elegant diagonal slice for hers.

“However you cut yours is fine with me,” he said. He had risen from his seat to poke around her, curious to see her creation and drawn to the wonderful mixture of grilled cheese, butter, and crispy goodness.

When done, she handed him his plate but warned him, “Be careful. It’s hot.” His soft, amused smile at the domestic remark caused her heart to skip a beat.

They sat together at the small wooden table, and after a few minutes, they dug into their meal, though Abigail waited a bit so she could take in his reaction. After his first bite, Ben’s eyes widened before closing with surprised delight. He moaned appreciatively. “Oh, this is very good.”

“Really?” she asked happily.

Nodding eagerly, he took to consuming the slice with an almost single-minded determination. He hesitated on picking up the second slice, perhaps figuring he should make it last. She grinned at his sudden look of sheepishness. “Thank you for sharing this with me. Believe me, after a few months of camp rations, this is just…” he sighed with pleasure.

Abigail grinned. “I’m glad you like it. Grilled cheese can cure anything. It’s the American dream, baby.”

“Is all of your food in the future this good?” Ben asked, enchanted by the mere thought.

“Depends on where you’re looking, but for the most part, yes,” she said. Spotting a bit of crumbs and cheese on the side of his mouth, she smothered a giggle. She touched her own face. “You’ve got a little…”

“Where?” he asked, immediately touching anywhere on his face but the area where she pointed.

Rolling her eyes in feigned exasperation, she leaned over the table and brushed it away herself, her thumb gently pressed against the corner of his mouth. His gaze locked onto hers at the touch, the sudden proximity. He inhaled sharply. Abigail swallowed nervously. The cabin, which was already quite small, felt even smaller, more intimate.

“We should…” he murmured, trailing off.

She blinked slowly. “Finish our dinner?”

After a beat, Ben nodded. “I… yes. Dinner.”

Who knew that all the trouble to make grilled cheese could cause even more trouble?

[funkzpiel]

This might be a cliché and too cheesy, but.... Jaskier braiding Geralt’s hair? Maybe?

Touch-Starved | How to Care for Your Witcher

(read it on AO3)

Jaskier couldn’t say when the realization had struck him. It came to him as most subtle changes in thinking do - slowly, like bread crumbs picked up over time, leading him to the inevitable. Geralt was touch starved.

And not because he disliked touch.

On the contrary, the witcher was a glutton for it, it was more that the man didn’t ask. He didn’t know how. In Kaer Morhen, the young boys had been taught only what they needed to know. Vesemir, as far as Jaskier could understand, was the only mentor Geralt had that had shown even a modicum of affection and even that had been held at arm’s length. Not that the bard could blame them, he supposed, once Geralt had explained one night, too deep in his ale to stop, that most witcher-children don’t survive the trail of the grasses.

“And even if they do,” Geralt had groused, “Witchers don’t die in their beds.”

Witchers were plucked from their families, starved of love for everyone’s protection, then if they survived the transformation they were released into a world that would just as likely kill them as the grasses should have. Why grow attached to someone meant to die? Why show them anything else other than what the world would later show them? It set everyone up for failure, or so Geralt explained.

“That’s stupid,” Jaskier had said, the words rounded with laughter because surely Geralt had been jesting. Using his ignorance about witchers against him. Only… Geralt flinched in that minute way witchers did - that way only the observant might catch - and hid his face in his mug again.

oh.

So Jaskier did what the bard did best: he instigated. His career hadn’t come about by sitting down and waiting for change, after all. He put himself out there in the way he did all things. Same as how he had cowed the witcher into allowing him to become a (at first begrudging) traveling companion. Same as how he infected the lands with his music, normalized his presence at court affairs. Change was a matter of repetition, and it had to start somewhere.

So Jaskier started simply - with Geralt’s hair.

“There are better ways to keep it out of your face during your hunts, you know,” Jaskier said simply one evening as he watching the witcher bathe. Geralt hadn’t seemed keen on the company - no doubt because bathing was generally something someone did in private - but he also hadn’t argued beyond one singular growl the moment he realized Jaskier was not only joining him in the room, but intended to converse.

“I know,” Geralt rumbled, a strange curl to his mouth. It was obvious this was a conversation the man had heard before - one he didn’t enjoy having. “You wouldn’t be the first to say I should cut it.”

Jaskier blinked, legs crossed, and then laughed - the room filling with steam and the melody of his amusement.

“Heavens, no ~ I’d never even suggest it, Geralt,” Jaskier said, running a hand through his own hair. “I’m quite envious of your length. I tried to grow mine out once, you know. Just looked ratty. You’ve got a luscious mane and any man or woman who suggests you sheer it needs a swift boot to the ass, honestly.”

Geralt blinked at him, nearly owlishly, and that made something odd in Jaskier’s breast twist. It wasn’t attraction. Jaskier knew attraction, he was no stranger to bed or stranger’s beds or how attraction more often than not led to bed. This was… different. Something people sang about rather than acted upon. Something to tuck away and think about later.

“Then…?” The witcher prompted, confused.

“Can I show you?” Jaskier asked. He kept it neutral, simple; resisting the urge to let his excitement slip lest Geralt refuse on instinct. The man leaned back against the wall of the tub, and regarded him for a long, suspicious moment. Jaskier had planned this, though. There was no better time to persuade a witcher than fresh from a victorious hunt, made soft by a decent meal and a long soak. And lavender, of course, he always spiced Geralt’s baths with lavender. His keener sense of smell seemed to get more from it than any human. Already Geralt’s eyes looked heavy and pleased.

“Fine.”

Jaskier stood from his stool, then hefted it up and gracefully brought it over so he might perch easily behind Geralt. A lot had changed since they first started traveling. The witcher no longer fidgeted uneasily any time the bard placed himself at his back or out of eyesight. That curious feeling in his breast curled again.

Jaskier took a brush from the little table he had placed aside before hand, revealing that he had planned this, and gently began the process of brushing Geralt’s hair. He started at the ends – free of all manner of monster gunk now, but still as tangled as a feral child fresh from the woods. He worked his way up as he asked this and that about Geralt’s hunt, distracting him with easy topics of conversation that the witcher could easily be swayed into.

Geralt was not one for talking, but the witcher could never quite resist the urge to talk about monsters. Particularly if there was something to correct.

“A bruxa,” Jaskier commented idly, more than aware of the correct answer as he said, “I thought they were those great, hulking bats. How did they manage to make you bleed from your ears?”

That had gotten Geralt started, alright. Bruxa were often curvaceous women, their flesh looking as though they had been carved from marble rather than pink, living flesh. The were slight in comparison to the sort of vampire Jaskier had been referring too.

“They tend to attack by vocalizing,” Geralt said, his conversation made smoother the more Jaskier brushed his hair and soothed his mind, lulling the witcher into something soft and malleable. “They have secondary vocal chords in their throat capable of hitting far higher pitches than humans. They weaponize that asset and use directional blasts of both force and sound to disorient their prey. A normal man would faint, but a witcher—”

“Bleeds from their ears and shakes it off?” Jaskier chuckled, grateful that the witcher’s back was to him as the thought made his smile falter. He kept picturing the sight of blood running down either side of Geralt’s neck. It had taken a while to clean his ears of it, either opening clogged with dried blood. It was partially why Jaskier had been speaking more softly all evening – afraid to further hurt Geralt’s already sensitive, wounded ears.

“Hmm,” Geralt said in agreement, leaning back into Jaskier’s hands as the man finished with the brush, set it aside, and began to comb his fingers through long white strands – looking for the natural lay of the man’s hair. Beneath him the witcher shivered.

“Did I hurt you?” Jaskier asked, “Thought I got all the knots.”

It took a moment for the witcher to understand the question. He clenched his jaw, struggling with some foreign battle, and finally said, “No.”

Ah. He didn’t know how to say that he liked it, Jaskier realized. That he wanted more. That would be a battle for another day, showing the witcher that it was okay to want rather than live by need alone. For now, this small admission would be enough.

Jaskier hummed, that little sound of acknowledgement bleeding instinctively into a song rather all on its own. It was a village lullaby he had heard somewhere another – one that lacked words, relying on soft and lingering tones instead. He split Geralt’s hair into sections, then deftly began to thread them into one another with deft fingers.

Jaskier had lived with sisters, once. He remembered how his mother would braid their hair. How they asked for him to learn as well because when they sat in a train, braiding one another, one person always got left out – who better for that person to be than Jaskier with his closely shorn hair? It had become a love language for him. A form of taking care of others.

Perhaps the witcher was not the only one getting anything out of this, Jaskier realized.

Geralt let out a small noise, once or twice. Quickly snuffed, nearly hidden beneath Jaskier’s humming, but there all the same. Jaskier wondered if the man would become more vocal with time, just as he no longer flinched when the bard slipped behind him.

He hoped so. Jaskier was a man bred from a love of music – and never had he heard a sound quite so lovely as Geralt’s softness, if only because it was so rare. All the while, Geralt leaned into his fingers like a hound pressing against its master’s leg.

He weaved silver strands, as soft and silken as pouring milk, one into another until they formed a stunning patterning of lacing strands from the back of Geralt’s head to just past his shoulders. He tied the tail off with a ribbon, a rich gold color, and took one last chance to run his hands from Geralt’s temples back to the nape of his neck, searching for fly-aways he knew wouldn’t be there.

“There,” he said, digging his thumbs into the meat of Geralt’s shoulders and massaging lightly, keen to transfer his momentum into more progress while he had it. Geralt let out a soft huff through slack lips – eyes hooded, nearly closed. “Finished.”

Geralt opened his eyes at that, and sensing the man would want to see what Jaskier had done, Jaskier grabbed two mirrors. One for Geralt to hold, the other for him to help.

“Hold up yours, yes, just like that,” Jaskier said, then angled his own so that Geralt might see the reflection of Jaskier’s handiwork. The witcher stilled, and for a very long moment, he just stared. Jaskier was just beginning to wonder if perhaps he was wrong in thinking he could manage to sway Geralt with practicality – after all the braid was an excellent solution to his hair troubles – when Geralt handed the mirror back to him.

“That works.”

Jaskier set the mirrors aside, grinning victoriously even as he forced a little sass into his tone to avoid suspicion.

“Oh, so generous of you to say, master-dear. “That works”. No “Jaskier, you genius”! Not even a “you did a lovely job, I’ve never looked so handsome”!”

Geralt snorted.

“I never look handsome.”

Jaskier kicked the tub and said, “I will kill you myself and steal your jawline if you ever dare to lie like that to me again.”

Geralt leaned back, his long tail hanging over the back of the tub as he pressed the top of his head against Jaskier’s belly and said, “Is that so?” with a smirk of all things.

Oh, this had worked so much more nicely than Jaskier had thought. His stomach did a little flip at the freely given contact. The dampness from the witcher’s hair began to seep into his shirt, and yet Jaskier couldn’t even begin to care. He’d crawl into the tub fully clothed if that meant Geralt would start seeing himself as a human with more rights to happiness than the lies that Kaer Morhen and society had beat into him.

“So, what do you think?” He asked, tucking one stray hair back from Geralt’s brow. The lock was too short, unevenly shorn from the rest of his hair; likely the result of a claw just narrowly dodged. Jaskier pet the short lock back into the folds of Geralt’s hair, strangely fond of the little thing.

He wondered what it would look like in the morning after drying in its braid all night. Soft and wavy, framing the wolf’s grumpy morning face.

“Worth trying,” Geralt said with a hum, eyes closing – pressing into Jaskier. “You’ll have to do it again for the next contract. See how it works.”

With the witcher’s eyes closed, Jaskier let himself smile openly. No grins, no charming flashes of teeth. It wasn’t Jaskier’s smile – but rather Julian’s. The small boy who used to braid his sister’s hair. The young man who struck out on the road to follow his dreams, before he had to change to make them happen. He smiled, soft and fond, and pet Geralt’s hair lightly – all in the guise of making sure every strand was in order – as he said, “The least I can do in return for a good story.”

“Hmm,” the witcher hummed, the sound no longer an answer so much as acknowledgment that Jaskier had spoken, that Geralt was there and present, but too relaxed beneath his touch to really know what was said or what to say.

The bard watched his witcher doze contently beneath his touch. The white wolf tamed, but for a moment, by want instead of need. One day Jaskier would kiss the crown of that sleepy head, when he was brave enough.

But that would come all in good time for both of them. Subtle changes, small and steady.

[japrilsanatomy]

Time to share my Portwell/Rini rant from after 2x06 came out that I had to type out into a note bc I was already gong insane-

At the moment I really ship Portwell a lot more than Rini. The main problem is Ricky, because he is obviously resisting change because of all the problems that he’s having his life right now, and that’s having an impact on Nini. Nini’s character arc has always been about finding herself and Ricky is kind of holding her back a little bit. He doesn’t want things to change, and he’s being too clingy right now. Nini’s song that she was writing in season two episode six was obviously partially about Ricky and how he’s kind of holding her back, and since Carlos is about to post it on Instagram when she wanted to keep it private for now, that’s probably gonna blow up in the next episode or two. There are so many things causing stress and going wrong in Ricky’s life that honestly he doesn’t need a love triangle situation on top of that. Honestly, I think it would be best for Rini to take a break for the time being. Give Ricky time to go to therapy, because that’s gonna be what heals him, not a relationship. Maybe in a few months time, or even longer, they could get back together, but at the moment that’s not what either of them needs. Ricky needs to be alone right now to figure out his life and find his own happiness. As for Ricky and Gina, I do not support this at all. Ricky has obviously chosen Nini over Gina, and it will just never work. With everything that’s going on in Gina’s life, all the uncertainty and never establishing long-term connections, She need someone who’s going to be there for her, and not per second like Ricky is doing. Gina needs a person that will be there for her no matter what, and doesn’t have other drama that’s going to affect her at the moment. Gina absolutely does not need to be part of a love triangle, it’s really not good for her. I think she’s better suited with someone like EJ. EJ doesn’t have another love interest, and he always seems to put Gina first over everything, for example, in season two episode five, he was the only one who has ever asked how she was feeling when she doesn’t already seem upset. Gina seemed thrown off guard by that, because she’s not used to that from Ricky, or anybody really. Ricky kind of doesn’t think about her feelings and emotions when he obviously knows that she likes him, and it really puts Gina through more pain than she needs to go through. EJ also seems to be attracted to her, as in that same episode, he was giving her what looked like heart eyes at the end of the episode, and he was so into looking at her that he missed everything Mr. Mazzara was saying to him. Mr. Mazzara walked off with a knowing smirk when EJ asked him to repeat himself, and said “Nothing”. The plot of season two episode six is heavily revolved around Gina wanting to leave, and Ashlyn trying to stop her. We don’t see a whole lot of Portwell crumbs in this episode, but we do get a few. In the beginning of the episode, they’re sitting next to each other on the bleachers, which basically means nothing. A few minutes later, they had to partner up for an acting improves exercise, and since Mimi isn’t there because she’s writing a song, Ricky goes up Gina and asked her if she wants to be his partner, and she rejects him. She then runs into EJ, and EJ chooses her as his first choice, and she responds with “yeah, I got you”. Just another example of EJ putting Gina first when Ricky doesn’t, since we all know if Nini was there at the time he would not have asked Gina to be his partner. Or later, they do another exercise, five questions to get to know you. They are supposed to respond to each question as their characters, and for the second question, what would you ask your future self, everyone’s answers are meaningful and very obviously plot driven. When is it his turn to go, he says something very interesting. He says that the question he would ask is if he could ever learn to love anyone after Belle. He elaborates with, “I mean you never know, right?” Perhaps I’m reading too much into this, but he seems to be talking about Gina. Obviously the Belle he’s talking about is Nini, since he has never

had another love interest on the show. And there is no other female character that he seems to have any potential relationship with. After that there really isn’t much else except for some looks, and them talking to each other and her rubbing his arm. They have so much in common and are so compatible and understand each other on a special level. Don’t forget he bought her a plane ticket in the season 1 finale, which could of course be platonic, but it also just shows how much he cares about her and her well being. Also, shoutout to the Caswells. They are the ones who care the most about Gina and the people she really deserves.

[ka-za-ri]

Demon Brothers and Mid-Autumn Festival

Happy early 中秋節 !This spawned from me crying over pretty mooncake packaging. And then I fell into a hole of matching the boys to boxes and this Mildy AU stuff happened. Uh... so I know this isn’t the only way to celebrate Mid-Autumn Festival, but it’s mostly based on my experiences and nostalgia. So excuse the super self-indulgence and have fun~ I tried to include links to things that might need some more explaining.

It’s my first time writing headcanons so pls be gentle on me .･ﾟﾟ･(／ω＼)･ﾟﾟ･.

Lucifer

“Mid-autumn festival? I may have heard of this before in passing.” 

“What is this? A Jewelry box?” 

Don’t tell him how long you went looking for the perfect packaging and flavor. 

Doesn’t celebrate the whole week, but will at least sit down with you for a night to share mooncakes

Prefers them without the yolk, but he’s not going to complain if they’re there.

Neatly cuts the mooncake into quarters and has to have it with tea 

Likes the wintermelon filled kind the best. The chewy texture goes better with tea. 

He’ll make an exception for black sesame lotus paste though

Unfortunately too busy to do any sort of moon viewing with you since he’s swamped with paperwork. 

At least he’ll share mooncake and tea with you while he does it 

Keeps the box and actually uses it as a lamp from time to time

You find out he’s using the tins to store wax seals and stamps too

He doesn’t have time for it, but appreciates the small bottle of osmanthus wine you leave at his door at the end of the festival. 

Finds you a month later on the next full moon to sit down and drink it with you. Offer him a Laopo Bing or leftover mooncake to go with it as a snack. (Of course there’s leftover mooncake) 

You share tea and cakes while sitting on a pavilion overlooking a lake. The moon’s reflected on the surface. Lotus flowers are blooming and the sounds of cicadas are in the distance. Wispy clouds float past the full moon but don’t really hinder its brightness. 

He brushes a stray strand of hair out of the way before maybe sneaking in a kiss or two. He’s much more entranced by how you look lit by the moon and not the moon itself.

Mammon

Got gifted a box of them from a designer as a gift after a photoshoot

You may or may not ogle at how pretty the packaging is. He teases you and taunts you with it. Of course they would only gift something so majestic to The Great Mammon. 

Doesn’t bother cutting into them, just eats them like a cookie 

Until he gets to the yolk 

“The heck is this? Who puts salted egg yolks into a sweet thing?” 

Looks up how much the mooncake box from a designer might sell for. 

So many gifted mooncakes

But he doesn’t eat any, unless you show interest in them. 

You find chocolate flavored ones among all the boxes 

Still doesn’t cut the mooncake up, but at least there’s enough to share. He’s less traumatized now that he’s had one that doesn’t have yolks in it. 

Spends the rest of the night sampling all of the weird ‘haute couture’ flavors of the year. 

The strangest one is the truffle and ham flavored one. 

He nearly spits that one in your face

Both of you are rushing to the kitchen to find something to wash away that taste. 

Thankfully there’s the bottle of Osmanthus wine you’ve saved for this occasion

He takes a giant gulp and nearly gags at how strong it is. 

Now you have a partially tipsy Mammon on your hands. 

Take him out on a long moonlit walk to get him sober. 

The air is crisp, the moon is bright, the leaves are just starting to turn color. There’s just a hint of dampness in the air but it’s refreshing. He takes your hand as you’re walking to make sure you don’t wander off. 

Ends the night kissing your forehead and thanking you for sharing so many memories with him this year. 

Doesn’t try to keep any of the boxes and tries to sell them all off if he can unless you find one that catches your fancy, then he’ll just give that one to you.

Leviathan

“Oh my gosh, it’s the Super Rare Limited Edition Ruri-Chan as Chang’e mooncake box?!?!?!?!?!?!” 

He doesn’t care what the flavor is. It’s Ruri-chan

Takes more care of the box than he does the actual mooncake. 

Prefers the small custard filled/lava ones 

They’re easier for snacking while he’s prepping for a raid. 

Raids don’t stop for holidays. Gaming must continue

Invites you to join him one night and gifts you the limited equipment from the current Mid-Autumn festival event in game. 

“It’ll look cuter on your character than mine.” Don’t question him on how long it took him to farm that gear. 

You end up playing games with him all night long and forget to watch the moon. 

Instead, the two of you decide to just watch the sun rise while snacking on the last of the cakes. 

Tea is in order, those things got really sweet really fast. 

The two of you are so loopy from staying up all night, you giggle at the dumbest things as you’re trying to sneak into the kitchen to get something to drink. 

“How long did you wait in line for that box?” 

Don’t tell him you just pre-ordered it like a normal person would. “Oh, maybe a few hours.” 

“Well, I guess I owe you a few hours of time as a thank you.” 

You nearly forget that tea’s done and almost wake up the house from the whistling kettle. Worth it for all the kisses you got in between that time though. 

Satan

“Oh yes, of course I’m familiar with the festival. I’ve read all about it.” 

He’s rather fascinated with how ornate the packaging can get for some sweets. “What’s so special about them?” 

Red bean paste with the yolk 

Cuts the mooncake into six 

Lets you eat on the bed as long as you make sure you don’t get crumbs anywhere. 

His room literally has the best view of the moon. It’s mandatory that you watch it from there.

Lets you gaze at the moon from his bed while he reads. 

Until you interrupt him and start reciting  Li Bai’s Quiet Night Thought. Mostly it’s to yourself out of homesickness

Moonlight before my bed/ Perhaps frost on the ground/ Lift my head and see the moon/ Lower my head and I miss my home. 

And then you start reciting “Drinking Alone Under The Moon” 

You really start drinking and living the drunken poet life. 

“You know, you’re not alone though.” 

He finally puts the book aside and joins you to watch the moon and listen to you recite poetry for hours on end. 

Asks you about Chang’e and listens as you drunkenly ramble off her story all the while nibbling on pieces of mooncake. He offers you the occasional piece so you’re not drinking so much on an empty stomach. 

Keeps the box and the tins but has no idea what to put in them so they end up gathering dust in the room until one day he needs something to put spell components in and he remembers it exists. 

Spends the week watching the moon and listening to you recite poetry or tell fairy stories. 

Often falls asleep in your lap, a half eaten piece of mooncake in hand.

Invites you over for moonviewings even after the festival.

Asmodeus

He can't tell if he should be more impressed by the packaging or by the cake designs. 

Snowskin mooncakes become his favorite

Rose and lychee flavors are preferred

He adores how pretty crystal mooncakes are as well

Absolutely no yolks please 

Refuses to watch the moon with you. Staying up late will ruin his skin care routine 

He will day drink the osmanthus wine you’ve save to go with the mooncakes while you watch operas

It sounds weird to him at first, but the makeup and the costumes draw him in. 

Cries at the end of Farewell My Concubine 

You end up spending hours telling him about the Four Beauties and China’s Four Most Handsome Men 

He’s upset that all of the stories end in tragedy

You try to cheer him up by going to a local festival and watch the lanterns and other festivities 

Gets super invested in lantern making and spends hours learning how to make one to hang up in his room.

While he’s gone, go buy him some Tanghulu Not only can he appreciate the bright red hawthorns, but they’re a delicious snack on the go while you let him explore the whole festival.

The two of you spend hours looking at cute packaging for mooncakes and buying them back for the others. He’s happiest with the one you gifted him though. 

Okay, maybe he can stay up late to look at the moon just this once. 

Take a small picnic to a grassy hill somewhere so you can admire the moon in its full glory. Most of the snacks are rice cakes and fruit and of course more moonakes. (Seriously, there’s so much mooncake)

He knows he’s supposed to be watching the moon, but he finds it easier and better to watch you instead. You’re just as ethereal as Chang’e in the silvery light of the night. 

Definitely keeps the mooncake box and uses it to hold parts of his makeup collection. It fits right into his room decor.

Beelzebub

You get him the biggest box with the most variety that you can find so he can try as many flavors as possible. 

He ends up liking the kind that tastes like Gai Zhai Beng (Sorry, I don’t know what this is in English?) with all the nuts the most since they’re the heartiest. 

Actually, he likes all of the more savory ones

If it’s sweet, it should have yolks. Four of them if they have those, if not, he’ll settle with the Cantonese style with two yolks.  

You take him to the festivals so he can try even more flavors

The best part is that you get to try them as well. He offers you at least a bite before downing the rest of the mooncake. 

Do the two of you go around eating everything until you feel like you’re about to burst? Absolutely. 

If you can’t see anything that’s going on during the performances at the festival, he’ll lift you onto his shoulder to get a better view. 

With how much time you spend at the festival and how much you’ve eaten, you don’t know if you can stay up late to watch the moon like you want to. 

He lets you piggyback on the walk home 

The sound of a pipa song from the festival echoes in your brain and you hum the song while half asleep on the way home. He gets it stuck in his head for the next month and a half. 

Worth it though, it means he’s reminded of the great time he had with you and all the food he got to try. 

Now he’s constantly asking you if you can make him mooncakes. 

Literally forgets the box and tins exist until he’s cleaning out his room for hidden snacks months later. 

Almost forgot about the osmanthus wine you gifted him as well. He hits you up on the next full moon to drink it while eating snacks and you get to tell him about all the legends behind the foods he’s eaten. 

“Next time, I’ll make you Crossing the Bridge Noodles.” 

“What’s the story behind that?” 

“I’ll tell you when I make them.” 

“Is that a promise?” 

“Of course.” 

Belphegor

Thinks a fairy must have visited him in his dreams when he rolls over and finds the box of mooncakes next to his pillow

Sleeps all day so he can watch the moon all night with you. 

Expect tons of cuddles while doing that

Find out when he’s halfway through eating the box that he prefers tang yuan over mooncakes

He covets the box you gave him regardless

Maybe you make the tang yuan with a little extra ginger to spite him

Too bad for you, he prefers it that way. 

Convinces you that the gardens is the best place for moon viewing 

He’s right since there’s an osmanthus tree there and it smells absolutely amazing this time of the year. 

His favorite dessert is pretty much impossible to transport, so he’ll have to deal with what you brought. 

Ends up quite liking sachima but not jin dui 

Beel drank the last of your celebratory osmanthus wine, it’s time to break out the baijiu

It takes only a few sip of this to have you both tipsy and slurring superlatives at the moon. 

“She’s just so beautiful. Look at her. So radiant and glowing and just the most magnificent isn’t she?” 

“I can’t tell if you’re describing the moon or if you’re describing yourself.” 

“The moon. Of course. She’s so beautiful that poems are written about her for thousands of years.” 

“I could do that for you too you know…” 

The two of you end up falling asleep in the garden under the tree. By the time you two wake up, you’re both covered in the tiny fragrant blossoms 

Take some back with you to make cakes and maybe some more wine to remind you of the lovely night you had. 

[shadowetienne]

I’m going to babble a little bit about Chuang 2021 and QCYN3 under the cut. I’ve been following them, but not posting a ton about them because grad school/student teaching and life eating my time, but we’ve had another elimination since last I posted for each of them (QCYN3′s today), so I’m going to update my top debut # lists for each and just babble a little. There are spoilers under the cut, you’ve been warned...

Chuang 2021

Per usual, I think that my tastes don’t align with Tencent’s as well as they do with iQiyi’s, just in terms of who they seem to choose to promote/elevate and the sorts of narratives that they write. I’m not the target audience for either though, so this isn’t super surprising. I lost several favorites in this last elimination, but my top top cluster made it, so that’s nice.

We’ve had 3rd stage for Chuang, and I’ve got to say that I wasn’t super caught by any of the songs. I’ll rewatch the performances later though, and maybe some of them will grow on me. I thought that a lot of people performed well (or at least better than I would have expected though).

My Top 11 for Chuang 2021:

Xue Bayi -  He’s gorgeous, all around quite talented, and was in my favorite audition performance and favorite of the position stages. I love the aesthetic that he has for himself, and his dynamics with other trainees. He is clearly someone that Tencent badly wants to gloss over though (all the camerawork involving him just makes me grumpy, it’s like watching for crumbs). I’m glad for his friendships keeping him onscreen as much as they do. 

Liu Yu - Also gorgeous, also all around talented, especially amazing dancer, also in my top audition performance. I’m a little worried for him (not in terms of making it through, but in terms of honestly the pressure being put on him right now). He’s come up to my second position on this list partially because of his friendship with Bayi though.

Hu Yetao - I struggled a little with him deciding to cut his hair short, to be honest, not because it makes him less pretty, just because that’s an aesthetic choice that I have feelings about. Poor kid seems to be having a rough time of it, and I hope that the positive treatment in the performance episode was enough to help carry him through to the final.

Bo Yuan - I’ve adored Bo Yuan since partway through QCYN1. He’s all around talented, an amazing vocalist, and an amazing leader. I love how caring he is towards all the other trainees, and I really really hope that this is where he gets his big break.

Rong Yao - So as you might be realizing, this first audition performance left an impression on me. Rong Yao’s again, very well rounded, has an awesome voice, and I really love how positive he’s been and how well he’s meshed with a variety of styles. I don’t have much hope of him making it through this next elimination though.

Nine - He’s adorable, and has a wonderful voice, and solid, rapidly increasing all around skills. I’ve really enjoyed him as part of room 1002 as well. The friendships in that room are so precious.

Riki - He’s an incredible dancer, and I love the way he meshes with groups and works with others. I’ve got to say the fact that in his first blog he highlighted Bayi’s dance really did endear him to me, but overall, I like his personality a lot, and I think that he’s super talented. His voice is pleasant too, if in need of a little more training. --- (This is where I stop having strong feelings) ---

Lin Mo - Ridiculous, adorable kid. Nice voice, seems pretty well liked among the others.

Jing Long -  Very good vocalist.

Yu Gengyin - Good leader, good all around skills. Like his dynamics with a bunch of other trainees.

He Yifan - Very nice voice, I’ve enjoyed his overall presence.

There are a ton of other talented trainees, and it’s really that top seven that I have strong feelings about. The last four, I was scrolling through the list of who’s left and going, who do I enjoy? So who I put in those last 4 on my list could vary in name and order just based on how I was feeling/which names popped out at me first. I’ll probably need at least 3 of that top 7 of mine to make it to actually follow follow group activities rather than casually keep an eye on what the final group is up to.

---

Qing Chun You Ni 3

I do think that I’m having closer feelings on the two shows this year than I have in a lot of past years, but QCYN3 continues to highlight things that I like a little bit more. I will always appreciate that QCYN/IP in all its iterations has included variation in their uniforms that allows trainees to pick what they are comfortable in and what suits them. While it’s less prominent in this season than in last season, it’s one of those little things that makes me like their treatment of the trainees better in many ways.

I’m really excited to see the 3rd stage here where they get to do their own songs that were produced for them, and I’m interested to see the rearrangement process (though I’ve read spoilers on that, and I’m tentatively happy with some of it).

My Top 9 for QCYN3:

Sun Yinghao (Kachine) - He’s gorgeous, he’s an amazing dancer, he messes with gender binaries, if anyone’s surprised that I like him, I’m a little baffled honestly. His voice is relatively untrained (he was a backup dancer and dance teacher and small time makeup vlogger before he was a trainee, so really well trained dancer, very little time on voice so far). He shows potential though, and as long as he stays in the parts of his range where he’s comfortable, does fine. He has been improving on this front quite a lot, and I’m proud of him for it.

Liu Jun - The best dancer on the show, hands down. His personality is also delightful, and I love his dynamics with so many other trainers. Like Yinghao, didn’t come in with a ton of vocal training (and he’s an independent trainee, so didn’t even have that structure). He’s got some natural ability on that front and training seems to be doing his voice a lot of good.

Jiang Jingzuo - I liked him in IP, and I liked him in Tangram, and he just keeps getting better. I love his all around skill and how well he’s adapted to and helped different groups.

Lian Huaiwei - I liked him a lot in QCYN1, and I was sad when he didn’t make it through to the group, so I’m thrilled to be seeing him to so well here. Another very good all around talent.

Duan Xingxing (X) - Amazing dancer, solid basic skills across the board in other things. I love how much he seems to like trying cute/sweet concepts. He’s also got a great bond with other trainees, and that’s fun to see.

Sun Yihang - Really good dancer, solid all arounder, really charming interactions with Huaiwei (and many others).

Wang Nanjun (Krystian) - He’s got such a good solid base of skill and he’s really all around talented. I’m definitely soft for his childishness/reactions, in a way that I wouldn’t be necessarily if he didn’t have the skill to back it up, but his dynamics with a lot of other trainees, but most notably to me Liu Jun, are really endearing.

Liu Guanyou (Neil) - All around good talent, adorable but versatile in his skill set. Really sweet dynamics with a lot of other trainees, most notably Duan Xingxing.

Xu Ziwei - One big reason: voice! He’s a really good vocalist, and he works hard on dance and has been improving dramatically. Basically in the exact opposite position training wise from trainees like Yinghao and Liu Jun.

There are many other people I like (including most of the top 9 that aren’t in my list, though I’m kind of neutral on a few of them). There are a whole lot of interesting and talented trainees, and this is just a list that reflects my personal tastes.

I’d love the chance to talk to other people about the shows and trainees that we both like (especially Bayi and Yinghao and gender presentation related feelings).

[nikonlady]

Is my opinion off base?

I would like your thoughts on an opinion I have. Please no hate, let’s discuss respectfully with each other. “Jikooks’s relationship”

The first ballad on Suchwita and then three of the songs on the karaoke clip were love songs asking for forgiveness for breaking up and asking the special someone to come back. Go back and read the lyrics to all the ballads JK sang. Now that some time has passed, I think Jimin’s Face album was about his breakup with Jk. Based on these songs, I think JK broke up with Jimin and greatly hurt him. JK decided this year that he wants Jimin back, thus all the lives this year pining for Jimin. I think this is the reason Jimin has gone so silent with his lives over the past year. He only came live when he had to promote his album. His playing/flirting with JK in the comments was his safety zone. 

I think the NY trip to support JK was their reconciliation. It may have partially been a work trip, but they had some private moments that, weeks later there still has been no mention of the trip or Jimin being there.

I think Suga was messing with JK when he brought up Jimin on the show. But the love songs, the playing of Serendipity play into Suga low key acknowledging their relationship.

Also, during RM’s live a couple of weeks ago, he made a comment about relationships and be careful about “exes”. This was the same time Jikook was in NY. I think this was a comment aimed at them.

I think Taehyung possibly played a role in causing tension in Jikooks relationship. To this day he continues to feed the ship as if there is more than friendship. Unfortunately, JK has done little to publicly discount the crumbs constantly thrown out, with maybe one exception. His live at 2am following his music show appearance where Tae showed up to support him. He had to clarify after telling the fans he does not keep up with or knows where the members are, yet Tae showed up to dance unbeknownst or invited by him. I think it was twofold as the other ship was calling JK a liar and he had to calm down the jikookers. I think Jimin knew Tae would show up as someone needed to be there for JK. Although I detest the other ship, I think they use it to keep the fandom engage with their releases. Is it needed in my opionion? NO, but that is the k-pop world. Also, Tae did not publicly support JImin’s solo release at all, whereas he did so with the other members thru IG/Weverse post, dance challenges, attending concert and music shows. Nothing for Jimin except a Weverse comment to J-hope asking if it was ok to curse in reference to praising Jimin’s song release.

Hope I don’t get hate, but I would love to have a respectful discussion about my thoughts.

[samwrights]

A Part of Me - Punk!AU [Makki]

Ah, the (second) song to inspire this entire series. This song is very near and dear to my heart as it is one of the few songs I regularly duet with people at karaoke. Because of that, this chapter is very very fluffy, cutesy, and almost vomit inducing. If you’re unfamiliar with the premise of this series, that could be because this is the second installment of Makki’s route and you may need to read the first which can be found here! Artwork is not mine so if we find the artist, please let me know so we can properly cite them.

Lyrics that are bold are sung by Makki and the very few lyrics that are italicized are sung by you. If they are both, then they are harmonized.

WARNINGS: Language, implied NSFW, indirect use of marijuana, and mentions of nicotine use.

Word count: ~4k

Song Used: A Part of Me by Neck Deep

A complementary setlist for Elixir can be found  »  here

Despite the cool November air filtering in through your open bedroom window, you were warm—much warmer than normal. Did you grab extra blankets before going to bed? What the fuck happened last night? You weren’t nauseous, per se, but it almost felt as if you were casually swaying on a rocking boat albeit you were laying still. “The fuck...” you mumbled, squeezing your swollen and puffy eyes shut even tighter than they already were in an attempt to shut out the permeating sunlight. That, and to hopefully quell the strange feeling of floating and moving mixed with exhaustion.

“What’s wrong, baby?” At the sound of an all too familiar voice, your eyes snapped open to see your bassist, best friend, and asshat that you’d been pining over for the last ten years in your bed, resting on your headboard, with no visible clothes on.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing in here?!” You howl, suddenly feeling very, very bare and vulnerable, you pull your covers to your naked chest, noticing the shift in the covers revealed Hanamaki’s nude hip. Instead of answering, a laugh rumbles in his chest. Saying nothing else, his lanky arms wrap around your torso and pull your chests flush beside each other.

“Say sike right now. Like, please tell me you’re joking and that you do remember last night.”

“Wait, that wasn’t a dream?”

“Aw, you dream about me? Cute.” He teases before pressing his thin lips to yours forehead in a chaste kiss before he pulled back and resumed his resting position, allowing you to see his tight grimace. If you disregard that small detail, he looked incredibly relaxed; like a healthy glow gradiated over his pale skin or like he finally had found peace for the first time since you’ve known him. “Seriously though, you don’t remember anything from last night?”

“I’m not gonna lie, I’m pretty sure none of this is real.” You retort. The strawberry-brunette rolls his eyes and throws one of his legs over you while gripping each of your wrists, pinning you down to your mattress. The sudden movement confirmed your earlier suspicions of the fact that Takahiro Hanamaki was indeed naked in your bed on this beautiful November morning. Dammit, he’s even prettier when he’s naked. “Can you please catch me up to speed?”

“I love you.” His response is as quick-witted as ever, as if he were finally free to say it and he no longer had to swallow the words like a bitter medicine. “Always have, always will.” Regardless of the fact that his shale stone eyes were locked so intently with yours, you were not entirely convinced. Makki could tell by the way your lips remained parted and brows furrowed that you couldn’t come to terms with reality. Rather than words, the bassist latched his lips fully and unabashedly into yours, his tongue working its way into every crevice of your cavern as if he trying to coax your memories of the previous evening. Jagged thoughts of nude, sweaty bodies flooded you, along with crying in the car and lots of kisses you don’t ever remember taking place.

“Dude, what the fuck did we smoke last night?” The only response Makki could offer to that was laughter as he once again resumed his position of resting on your headboard. This time, he pulled you tightly, as opposed to the previous languid nature, to his chest as his arms encircled you.

“To be fair, you only ever smoke when you’re with me and we haven’t gone for a cruise since—“

“—since you started dating Momoka.” Speaking her name brought the remaining missing pieces of reality set in. “What are you going to do about that?” Your voice is quiet as the two of you stare out the window together, seeing the gentle shaking of tree branches before you in the November wind as your own thoughts consume you.

“What do you mean ‘what am I going to do about that’, break up with her, obviously.” There’s a bit of a sour note in his tone as Makki spits out the words. In a way, you felt a bit bad for her. Mostly because she didn’t necessarily do anything to warrant a sudden break up after a seemingly peaceful last eight months.

Then you remember she laughed at you last night, which partially prompted the fight between the two of you.

Fuck her.

“What time is it anyway?” You ask as a yawn leaves your mouth. Takahiro quirks a brow for a moment, the two rings surrounding the bone moving in a funny motion as he does so, before checking his phone. You definitely didn’t miss the multiple missed texts from your bandmates and Momoka on the screen, not that you were snooping or spying. Aside from that, you shifted slightly to reach for your own phone to check any missed messages. “We should probably at least get up.” It was already past noon, after all. Carefully peeling back your comforter away from you, you start to move to get up and go about your day.

“Look at me, babe.” The urgency in Makki’s voice doesn’t go amiss. As you look over at him, stopped in your tracks, you realize his expression is entirely devoid of its usual playfulness. “Ten years, we’ve been waiting for this. Why are you acting so...” the strawberry-brunette struggles to find the word he’s metaphorically searching for in his head, “distant?”

“Because ten years or not, you’re not technically mine.” You say it so quickly, like you’d been dying to blurt it out because it’s the only thing that’s been on your mind.

“I’ve always been yours.” Makki says it like it’s so simple—like everything was supposed to work out the way it did. Maybe it was. “I love you.” He says again when the two of you fall quiet.

“So you’ve said.” Pushing yourself out of bed, you let the comforter fall off from around your body before gathering a fresh towel to bring with to your bathroom so you could shower.

“Don’t believe me?” The man in your bed asks, sitting up to lean over a little either to attempt eye contact with him or so that he can get a better look at your bare ass. Knowing him, it was probably the latter. When you don’t respond, Makki does the same as you, pulling himself out of bed, and unzipping a backpack that you swear he didn’t have the night before and pulling out fresh clothes. He makes it apparent that he’s not letting the conversation go, you learn, as he joins in the bathroom, running the water to make sure it’s warm enough for his liking. “Seriously, babe, talk to me.” He doesn’t care that you’re peeing or brushing your teeth and, while it should be uncomfortable, it doesn’t bother you in the slightest.

“Doesn’t this feel wrong to you?” You ask finally as you both enter the shower. Despite the verbal and metaphysical distance between you two, you huddle closer to Hanamaki to stay under the spray of warm water. “Like this shouldn’t be happening at all or—“

“No,” his voice is firm, “it feels like we’ve wasted a fucking decade when we could have spent a decade fucking.”

“Wow, I hate you.” You quip immediately at his lewd statement. You turn away from him, letting what little drops of water that were coating you keep you warm. An audible groan rumbles in his throat before you feel his arms and chest wrap around you for what feels like the umpteenth time already.

“Does this feel wrong to you?” His lips are at your ear and, despite the hot water and the man holding you, a shiver runs down your spine.

“It just doesn’t feel real, like it genuinely feels like I’m going to wake up alone then start crying because this is all a dream.” Hanamaki sighs as he rests his forehead on your shoulder, not caring if the water is annoyingly running over his eyes in rivers. Honestly, he’s not sure how to fix this or how to make you believe because he can’t believe it’s happening either. Reality has yet to set in for him as well and the fact that the two of you were standing together in your shower with your bare bodies pressed against each other was making it more unbelievable by the second.

“I get it,” he says quietly, “trust me, it’s disorientating. But I promise, this is all real.” A small choke leaves his lungs, like he’s gasping for air, making you glance at the wet man resting on your shoulder. You can’t see the way the his eyes are welling or feel the heat behind them as he’s praying silently to a god he doesn’t believe in that this is his new reality.

Believable or not, happening or not, this moment—this life—was something the two of you had been unintentionally, or intentionally depending on how you looked at it, working towards for a decade and there was no reason not to enjoy and appreciate it while you both had it. Similarly along the lines of “better to have loved then lost” or some other bullshit, you internally mused. But that thought drove you to swallow whatever crumbs of this situation you could get.

“Hey, Hiro,” you turn around cautiously to stare at his slight sunken in eyes, making sure not to make any sudden movements that could potentially startle him. “I love you.” For a moment, he doesn’t respond to you but you know exactly why because it’s the same reason you’ve been so on edge. Hearing you finally say it back, despite being the first one to admit it the previous day, quells the bubbling fear he felt in his chest. His estranged face finally softens, as if he could finally relax because you’re bringing him back to the world. “And we’re being dumb again.” You point out, making Makki flash his teeth weakly in a smile that brings you more warmth than any fire.

“Yeah, you’re right.” The two of you become quiet, though this time the silence doesn’t thicken the tension already in the air, allowing you take in tiny doses of your surroundings. Takahiro Hanamaki was here, in the shower with you, after you blew up at him during practice and confessed your feelings the previous night. And, after ten years of mutual pining and blunt cruises and writing sad songs about each other, the two of you slept together for the first time.

Not exactly the romance you want to sit there are tell your future children about, but it’ll have to do.

“Last night,” you start off slowly as you’re towel drying your hair after the two of you migrated back to your bedroom to get dressed. The mention of the previous evening catches Makki’s attention. “You said that you always want to sing the songs you wrote because they’re about me, right? That Growing Pains is about me?”

“Yeah?”

“What else have you written?” Besides backing vocals for you, he didn’t sing any other songs entirely except for one other song that Kuroo wrote and he sang solely on the fact that “Kuroo doesn’t sing”. Or so he says. Something wasn’t adding up here.

For awhile, he doesn’t say anything as he’s slinking into his ripped jeans and rolling on a thin, black Henley for contrast. Simple, straightforward, and clean much like Hanamaki himself, until he tousles his natural pinky brown locks.

“Ah, don’t ruin the surprise, babe.”

Just what in the fuck is Makki planning?

The two of you head to Terushima’s house in his car, which you learned that he had parked down the street two blocks away as a preemptive measure just in case you tried to blockade him out of your apartment—and yes, you are that dramatic. But at some point in the night, Makki moved his car to the shared driveway of your flat. It feels like home. 

Being in the car with Makki, singing along to the same acoustic duets you always listened to, but rather than a blunt in your hands, it’s him—all of it feels like home. The smoke billowing away from your lips as you exhaled and how each breath drove away your worries of whether or not this was reality along with the wisps; throwing French fries at each other after you had stopped at a local drive thru to grab lunch for you and the band. This was real.

The way the calloused pads of his right hand are rubbing over your knuckles while you go back and forth singing and harmonizing melodies, or the way he brings the back of your hand to his lips when a particular line in a song feels relevant to him. The peace and ease that smoothed out the usually present tension his skin and the way his two signature eyebrow rings keep moving up in down because of the myriad of expressions he’s showing you. Even the typical, bruising bags under his eyes seemed a little less pronounced than usual. All of this was real.

There’s a strange sensation in the air when you enter Yūji’s house. Relief? No, that didn’t quite cover it. You tossed three bags of fast food on the kitchen island, both out of courtesy and knowing that probably none of you had a decent meal yet, as you studied the face of your bandmates. Relief was one emotion, but there was a strange, mischievous air to them as well.

Additionally, they didn’t even bat an eyelash at the fact that you and Makki came into the kitchen holding hands. “Alright, you guys are plotting something, I know it.” You deadpan, staring at the three very suspicion men gathered around the dining table with crumbs all loitering their cheeks and chin. But there’s no response or denial—not even a reaction. Not even when Makki lets out a chuckle and presses his lips to your forehead.

Like it didn’t even phase them.

Or like it was just always meant to be this way.

“Looks like you guys are having a good time, am I right?” You ask the rather large audience; larger than normal, anyway. Typically, the four of you would be lucky to see more than thirty people gathered at one of your shows. Tonight, the turnout almost packed the venue, even with small bodies pushing up against the barricade that separated the stage. Among the crowd, of course, was Momoka and the two other girlfriends. Apparently someone who shall not be named, Takahiro Hanamaki, forgot to tell her even a semblance of the events that occurred within the last twenty-four hours. Like, the fact that you and Makki confessed to each other and fucked last night.

Oh well. You had faith that Makki would rectify the situation after the show and you would be lying to yourself if you said that the mere thought of him dumping her caused excitement to pump through your veins.

After playing Love Bites, the fourth song in the set, you always had to give a brief intermission so that Kuroo could switch from his signature Stratocaster to his prized acoustic guitar—a gift you’d gotten him after he had gotten his own promotion at the coffee shop years ago. You’re pacing around the stage as the transition goes on, occasionally waving to audience members and saying hi. Part of you has the passing thought to wave to Momoka and the others, but it’s a passing thought that is interrupted with an astute ‘fuck you’ before continuing with your theatrical monologue. “We’re gonna slow it down just a little bit. This next song—“

“Actually, [name], I have an announcement to make.” Your head snapped so fast that it could have given you whiplash. Your bassist who is now adjusting Kuroo’s most prized possession over his long torso, is slightly hunching over his own microphone stand as he speaks, giving the guitar a couple strums, before his eyes move from you towards your rambunctious audience. “So this next song was something I wrote for someone special and,” the strawberry-brunette squints just a tad, holding his hand over his head to filter out light before he finds who he’s looking for, “no, Momoka, it’s not for you. We’re done.”

Your mind is blank. Well, except for the reverberating internal chant of ‘what the fuck’ before Makki interrupts your thoughts from going any further.

“I wrote this song for our lovely vocalist and I hope that you guys have someone special with you tonight so that you can share this moment with them too.” Without saying anything further, Hanamaki begins strumming the familiar rhythm to one of the few acoustics songs in your set. Kuroo, who normally played it every other night of the week, was holding a tambourine that was dwarfed by his large ink-covered hands, smacking the instrument into the heel of his other as he kept tempo with Makki. For now, you were going to ignore the fact that Kuroo had apparently stolen one of your jobs for the track. Somewhere in the background, Terushima is only hitting his bass drum with his foot to keep the impromptu guitarist in check, simultaneously leading the crowd interaction.

I’ll paint you a picture with words, “I miss her”

That left you to simply receive whatever the hell was happening right now. Oh shit.

How were you supposed to focus on singing a song dedicated to you when you were two busy watching the way Makki’s veins and vocal chords struggled underneath the skin of his neck as he sang to you? Or that twinkle in his shale colored eyes that gleamed in a way that made it seem like this were a conversation between the two of you, rather than a performance? Vaguely buzzing in the ambience, you can hear the clapping of the audience as they swayed back and forth. Some of them holding up their phones and lighters to add warmth to the moment, some were kissing lovers they had attended the show with. But the only thing that you could see right now was the soft, yellow stage light illuminating Hanamaki’s gaunt frame as he smiled brightly.

I’ll move on and forget you We could never see eye to eye

You could cry, were it not for you fighting every fiber of your being from doing so. The bassist to your left gestures with his head for you to step closer to him as he approaches the chorus. And while you did make hesitant steps towards him, occasionally remembering to chime in with your backing vocals, Makki continued making the gesture until you were as close as the two microphones you both had would allow without feedback disrupting the sound. While he’s still hunching over his own and strumming away at Kuroo’s guitar, his profile is to the audience as he locks eyes with yours. The audience isn’t even there anymore—it’s just the two of you.

Don’t let me go down this road again

The telepathic link that you believe was once long severed is reconnected with every vibration of strings and chords, with every letter that passes his teeth. His words, Makki’s words, were threaded and earnestly laced with honesty and love and it was the most overwhelming feeling you’d ever experienced. You swear your voice cracked at some point when you tried to back him and Makki only confirmed it with a soft snort accompanying his vocals.

If only I could find the words or muster up the nerve to tell her I’ll never forget her and she’ll always have a part of me

The bridge was coming rapidly as the two of you were met with one more repeat of the chorus. The bridge was born of delicate single string plucks and a crescendo of cymbal rolls and harmonies that diverged into yours and Makki’s parts in both perspective, skill, and personal story. It should have been a dead giveaway, really, when you first heard this song that he had written it for you with the way these verses were coordinated. But you were so far in denial that you may as well have been born and raised in Africa.

Now all I can do is lay in my room, fall asleep, dream of you Then wake up and do nothing about it

Sometimes you easily forget just how creative the strawberry-brunette could be. The way he curated the end of this song was a masterpiece that only someone of his caliber and twisted mind could create. Not just in the way he wrote the track, either, but the way he has the two of you telling a story to your audience and to each other and the way he ties it up neatly like a Christmas present—it meant even more now that you knew it was for you.

I fell for a boy who could never ever let me walk home that way Cause you gotta be safe

The way he created the only song in the entire setlist that highlighted the more delicate tones of your vocal range, as opposed to your brash tune from previous tracks.

She hates it when I shout these words but I’ll still for you So hold back your views, we’re both leaving soon

The way he tells you he will always be there.

I can’t fall back on you I’ll still sing for you

The way he tells he loves you has always been right in front of your face.

I’ll still sing for you

The way his hand gingerly cups your cheek, his words trailing off and the way his lips press to yours despite the environment, affectively knocking down the last of your resolve and letting a single tear fall from your eye.

[ Growing Pains « A Part of Me » Still Into You ]

Haikyuu!! Tag List

@hihiq​

Wanna see a specific character? Or a different head cannon? Want to see a whole story?

Send in requests!

[capricornus-rex]

Old Friend, New Family (3)

Requested by: Anon | Prompt:

Hey I was wondering if you’d take a prompt where the reader is an ex-padawan who’s master died pretty early on in order 66, and was instead saved by a clone that removed his inhibitor chip. Then maybe they get separated, and years later when the reader is a crew member on the Mantis, they come across the clone again? How would the crew, especially Cal and Cere, react to meeting a friendly ex-soldier clone who’s close with the reader? Could you make it full of angst then fluff? Love your writing!

Tags: Defected! Clone Trooper, Jedi Survivor! Reader, Order 66 Survivor

Also posted in AO3

Chapters: Part 1 | Previous: Part 2 | Next: Part 4 | Masterlist

3 of ?

CURRENT TIMELINE

In time, you found yourself alone… again.

In a short span of only two years, the guardian who said would have your back disappeared and never returned to you—and so you’ve entered a life truly on your own.

That is until you met Cal Kestis.

Three years ago, Cal was surprised to find another Jedi—who’s nearly in the same age as he is, no less. He found you in a street brawl against some Stormtroopers in Corellia, during a side trip to the planet. When he sensed that you were alone and on the run—as he did before—he offered you a place in the Mantis; seeing that there was nowhere else for you to go, not knowing where Strig could be or if he’ll ever come back, you got tired of waiting and being hopeless.

Strig, I’m sorry… but I will find you. I swear. You said in your mind as you took Cal’s offering hand.

That time when you were getting to know each other, you became fast friends. Ironically, your bond was formed over the fact that you’re both Jedi—finally, something the two of you can relate to. Your connection was strengthened by your stories of surviving the Purge, even though you’re probably worlds apart and were complete strangers to each other. It was another way of growth, as Cere saw it.

Little by little, throughout that time you’ve spent together, that connection evolved into more than friends as the Mantis hopped from one planet to the next. The two of you became open books to one another and your relationship became intimate.

“I’m glad you’re here, [y/n],” Cere opened up to you once during your stay in Bogano. “I don’t know if you realize it but you’ve taken care of Cal in more ways than one.”

“Sometimes I feel like he’s the one taking care of me!” you beamed, then shifted back to a somber tone. “I just know what it feels like to have lost everything. I think we all have gone through that one way or another.”

“I agree. For someone so young, you’re quite insightful,”

“My master often thought the same thing about me,”

A hint of sorrow laced the small smile on Cere’s face, “I’m sure he did.”

Eventually, your journey had brought you to the planet Zeffo. After that showdown with the AT-ST, you decided to take some time off before returning to the Mantis.

Once settled in, you’re almost afraid to close your eyes—afraid of the unknown that you’d see in the trance. Long have you struggled to prepare yourself once darkness loomed behind your eyes, often you did tell yourself that you’re ready but in reality are not, and you’re constantly plagued by loss, grief, death, and sorrow.

“Padawan, listen well, whatever happens… Survive!”

“Master…!”

“Come on, kid, there’s nothing left for us here. But you don’t have to be alone…”

The explosions, the ear-shattering whistles of the projectiles leaving the blasters’ barrels, and the shouts of the clones entered your one ear and exited the other; the sight of Master Zal Karos and his final moments when he was still alive, when you stood by his side against an army of unrelenting clones, was mind-numbing and made your head ache; and finally, the feeling of Strig’s friendly grip around your small hand brushed over your skin—you could feel the tattered padding of his gloves on your palm—and then you felt his touch on your back as he shepherded you out of the aftermath.

Your mind trapped in the persistent influence of your memories warped you to the town of Yezuf, in Ghidra—where you and Strig have made a home to flee from the Purge.

Fire blanketed the town and everyone was in an immense state of panic. Even though it was only a memory, the sensations felt real that it’s overwhelming: the harsh push of the crowd as you go against the flow felt like punches and jabs into your stomach, the heavy bodies shouldering past you made your arm twitch, and hands blindly digging in and bruising your skin as strangers held for support as they ran the other way.

“Everybody, this area is off-limits! Authorized officers are only allowed beyond this point!”

“Strig?! STRIG!!”

“Violators shall be apprehended! Hey you, kid! Get outta here!”

“No wait! I have someone there..! STRIG!!!”

“Strig…” you murmured.

The memories are still vivid in your mind, it’s as if they had only happened yesterday. Five years have passed since the Purge, and three for Strig’s unexplained disappearance when you were living in Ghidra. Most of the time, they invade your meditation, and yet you’re unable to open your eyes from it.

“Hey, [y/n],” Cal called from afar.

You open your eyes, the green grass beneath the pillars and stone’s throws fill your vision, and your head turns to Cal’s direction. He often finds you in the same spot at the windswept ruins. The young redhead scales the steps and joins you at the platform right before the tomb’s elevator.

��I know that look. Something troubling you?”

“It’s… getting difficult for me to focus on meditation lately,” you trail off and then dismiss the thought. “I’ll get over it.”

“Having trouble collecting your thoughts?”

“I suppose…” you trail off, staring at space in search of a word. “It’s nothing.”

Cal accompanied you in relishing the tranquility of this part of the planet. The two of you listened to the mountain breeze, the faint song of the ice and snow, and the shifting of the rocks beneath the surface—where the extravagant tombs rest. After that brief moment, he perked up and reached for his pouch behind his back.

“I got you something,”

“Oh, you did?”

Cal opens the flap to reveal a batch of bread that Greez made. When you took a bite, a dark red puree oozed out from the center.

“Are these…?”

“Strawberries!” Cal finished the question and answered it altogether. “I told Greez they’re your favorite. They liked it too back there.”

Your heart melted. The fact that you told Cal only once that strawberries were your favorite—but you didn’t expect him to remember that—made you all the more fuzzy inside. Cal may not know it, but he seems to find it quite easy to cheer you up—whether it’s making you smile or laugh, he always had a trick up his sleeve. You take bites of the bread, tilting your head back so the jam drops right into your mouth, and then swatting the crumbs off your face.

“The sky is so weird here,” you blurted.

“What made you say so?”

“Look, there’s always thunderclouds looming about, but no sign of rain—just cold wind,”

“Planets and their weather differ, don’t they?”

“Yeah, but compared to most planets I’ve been to back in the Clone Wars, the weather here is nicer.”

Amused in watching your curiosity and imagination run wild, Cal propped his cheek over his fist as he asked you more about the planets you’ve been to back in the day. In return, you made him promise to tell about his side of the story.

“Do you think our masters ever knew each other?” you bring up the topic out of the blue.

“What, you mean like, fought together until they had some Padawans tagging along with them?”

You giggled at Cal’s visualization, but still you nodded in reply, “I was thinking of something along the lines of just being in the same room but… Yes, something like that.”

“I’m sure they have, in one way or another,”

You gave an affirming nod and then silence followed. He noticed that you’ve stopped wolfing down on your favorite snack and just examined the last bite between your fingers. Cal decided that it was a good idea to steal the last bite off of your hands, he took the bread using his mouth and then took off.

“Hey!” you cried out.

“You weren’t eating it anymore!” his mouth was partially full, hopping through the grass as he spoke.

“Go get your own, you brought a bag of it!”

You chased after him and tackled him to the next lower tier. Like children, the pair of you burst out laughing and threw your backs flat on the bed of grass dotted with little purple flowers; Cal plucked one and gingerly placed it on your hair.

“Aww, look how pretty you are,” he cooed, stroking your cheek with the back of his hands.

You tossed to the side so you face each other, in turn, you’re now the one stroking his hair and dusting off shreds of grass at the same time and sprinkled petals on his hair too.

[fantasticstoryteller]

Kingdoms ch. 23

Wade surveyed the little clearing that Spot had made (who knew that rider spiders could pull out whole trees, roots and all). The holes from the missing trees had been filled in, there was a huge flat rock (because no amount of pleading could get him a table) in the center with cooked rabbit, cooked geese (Peter’s contribution), and six loaves of bread. Turned out all spiders liked bread. Most importantly of all, the clearing had three, well defined and easy to spot exits that were more than big enough for rider spiders. After all, no one liked to feel trapped.

He smiled at the sight of the different flower bushes (who knew the palace staff actually pulled some up on purpose and were willing to give them away) planted around the edges of the clearing. It looked sweet. It looked romantic. When Spot was done with it he should grab a couple of blankets and bring Peter here.

He looked at the anxious rider spider. “Looks good,” he approved and the spider threw up his two front legs in what looked suspiciously like how humans cheered. “Now, you remember the rest of the plan?” he asked. Spot turned to one side and rubbed two of his legs together, creating an eerie music. “That’s right. Nothing like a little music to set the mood; it’s why bards are rich. Go and get your mate to be!” Wade ordered and Spot shot off. “And I,” he added to himself as he ducked behind one of the bushes, “am going to hide from the feral rider spider.”

Peter and Octavius were still trying to figure out who bred the feral spider so that they could call punishment down on him. Peter was of the opinion that the guy was local, since the spider was here. Octavius argued that the spider would have shown up and made itself known a lot faster if it was local. Both of them agreed to allow Queen Mary Jane to do the final sentencing.

Rustling brought Wade’s attention back to the clearing. He watched as Spot ran into the clearing and stood (or maybe sat, who knew with spiders) on the other side of the flat rock. The pink spider hesitated before following. Wade couldn't see her eyes from his position, but from her body language she was checking out the exits of the clearing. He’d been in a couple taverns where he’d had to do the same thing.

Slowly, moving with supreme caution, the pink spider made her way into the clearing. Wade was almost certain the only reason she approached at all was the fact that all three exits to the clearing were clearly marked. She was not about to be trapped, but she was still wary.

As she approached the table Spot leaned to one side to free up his legs so he could rub them together to make the eerie music. The pink spider stopped. Wade could almost see her considering this. She took a couple steps back—and then came forward slowly. She seemed to take more confidence when Spot didn’t move anything except his legs to create that odd, haunting music

It wasn’t anything Wade liked. He was more of a boisterous song, make you thirsty enough to drink the piss they’re calling beer kind of guy. Then again, Wade wasn’t a spider. And it wasn’t as though he could get one of the court bards to teach the spider how to play a harp. He’d tried.

The pink spider reached the rock table and seemed to regard it for a moment. Then, slowly, she hooked a rabbit with her leg and brought it closer to her mandibles before putting some of it in her mouth. She chewed slowly, eyes on Spot. Aside from reaching out and occasionally grabbing a bit of food, she didn’t move. Aside from rubbing his legs together to make the odd music, neither did Spot.

Wade wasn’t sure how they managed it. His legs were starting to burn from his crouch as he watched the tableau. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit there before moving and giving away his position. The last thing he wanted at the moment was to scare away the spider Spot was trying to win.

Then the pink spider got to the bread. Like the rabbits, like the geese, she reached out and brought it to her mouth with her foot. Bit down. Then jumped back as crumbs fell and she noisily chewed. Spot stopped playing and rested on all eight legs once more. The pink spider scurried forward and picked up the rest of the loaf of bread before cramming the whole thing in her mouth while chewing frantically. Wade could hear the sounds of mastication from his hiding place.

He watched with fascination as the pink spider leaped back once again—and began to dance. She swayed from side to side as occasionally waved her two front legs in the air, rocking back and forth. Wade might have been biased, but he thought Spot’s dancing had been much better. Of course, Spot had been professionally trained.

Spot gave an odd, high pitched keen that Wade had never heard before, sped around the rock table, and gently ran his two front legs over the pink spider who stopped dancing and leaned into Spot. She tucked her body partially under his as he carefully wrapped his legs around her. Both spiders began to make that odd, satisfied chirr sound that he’d come to associate with a spider getting groomed.

By the time Wade realized what he was watching they were almost done. His face burned with a crimson blush as, when they were done, the two spiders gathered up the leftover bread and carefully, together, left the clearing. “Well that—was interesting,” Wade remarked as he stood up.

He lurched to the side and caught himself on a small tree as his legs cramped up from the position they’d been forced into for so long. It took a while before he worked the cramps out enough to walk again and he staggered into the clearing. He looked around it and a small smile lit up his face.

Wade wondered what it would take to monopolize the most popular High Priest in Arachne for a while. Would people be upset? Would they go to war against him?

He didn’t care. He hadn’t spent nearly enough time with Peter since he’d gotten to Arachne, and it was time for that to be fixed. More than time. He went to the room he was sharing with Peter and borrowed a blanket before he went to the kitchen for some food.

After all, it worked for Spot.