#doing this ungodly early in the am so I don’t forget to do it (happens with tag games for me so much 😭)

[brookbee]

Got tagged by @doofusschweetz in this post (I took your coins) thanks for tagging me!

Tagging @crystal-mouse @frogayyyy @space-dog-from-space if y’all want to do this (no pressure though!)

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Remember?

Summary- 1.9k Frank Adler x You. Frank wakes you up at the ungodly hour of 3:30 am and will not even tell you why. Written for @stargazingfangirl18​ 5k challenge

Warnings- like... barely there mention hint of smut? But just barely? I cant even count it as a warning to be honest. 

A/N- so yes this is written for a soft!dark challenge, but dark writing just isn't happening. I went with just soft and with the prompt of lazy make out session.I really wanted to make sure I was giving something to Siri’s challenge because she works so hard on providing us wonderful fics to enjoy, is incredibly supportive and honestly she deserves it. Much love always babes and thank you for all you do.  

A/N 2- Can be read as a one shot. It is in the same verse as Oppressive. Also trying out a new site to make moodboards. I kinda like it? what do you all think? And I know the Fort Myers pier is made from concrete, not wood, but I wanted wood. So I went with wood. I always appreciate your thoughts on a fic. Alright, Much Love, Happy Reading! 🌊

“Baby wake up.” You heard a husky whisper in your ear as well as a rough scrape against your shoulder from Franks cheek as he pressed in close to your back, the soft hairs of his chest pressed into your sleepy warm skin and you muttered a no into your pillow as you hid your face into the cotton covers. 

He must be out of his ever loving mind to think you were going to wake up at… a quick peek at the old 80’s looking radio clock Frank loved sitting on his night stand. The red numbers were unfocused at first, but blurry sharpened to three thirty am. Yes, your man was crazy to think you were up for anything at all, and the way he was pressed into your ass cheeks, you suspected he woke up early for sex. 

That was going to be a hell no. “Frank go back to sleep. I will fuck you later.” You promised as you shifted back into your warm safe hollow. He chuckled gruffly and his hands slid on your hips to twist you to fast him, causing you to sigh and blink up at him. In the dark of the room, his eyes were a dull blue shining down at you amused. You though were no in that same mood as you blinked up at him, pushing a hand against his chest. “Come on Frank, I'm not in the mood. I was sleeping so good.” 

“You would think I would wake you up just for sex.” Frank scoffed.

“It wouldn't be the first time.” 

“Probably won't be the last either, but that's not what this is about. Come on Sweetheart, get up. I have a surprise.” He tapped your ass and pulled away as you were groaning, knowing sleep simply wasn't going to happen. 

“Adler, I swear to all that is holy, this better be good.” You grumbled as you sat up and tried to wake up. Frank came back out with some clothing for you, a pair of capris, tee shirt and undergarments. You looked at the casual clothing and arched your brows. “Where are you dragging me?” 

“Its a surprise, trust me, those are appropriate.” He started as he dressed in some old faded blue jeans and grey tee. Wherever he was taking you wasn't going to require dressing up too much, so you just pulled your hair back into a tie, and didn't bother with makeup. He kept glancing at his watch, and by three fifty he had you out the door and to his pickup truck. He tossed a bag in the back and when you went to question it, he shook his head firmly in a no while ushering you into the passenger side. “Part of it, just trust me.” 

“I trust you to have something up your sleeve Adler, considering you know I love my sleep in on Saturday Morning.” You grumbled under your breath. Typically you and Frank slept late Saturdays. Mary would go to Roberta’s Friday night for her weekly sleepover that both woman and child insisted on, you and Frank would go to the local bar for a night of cold drinks, games of pool and the occasional dancing when you could get Frank drunk enough to go on the small dance floor. Simple, but you always had a good time. Saturday was recovery day. 

So why was he dragging you out of bed on recovery day? 

“So a hint?” You decide to pester a bit, sliding closer on the bench seat till you were against his side, his arm circling around your shoulder to tuck you in closer and press a kiss to your temple. You could feel his lips upturned to a smirk against the side of your head. 

“You want a hint… It has to be done early in the morning.” 

You rolled your eyes at him with a huff, dropping your hand to dance your fingers against a jean clad thigh, making his eyes dart down to your hand. “I want better then that.” 

“You are not gonna get it Baby, but you can try your best.” 

He really was being serious this time, because he caught your hand from wandering up to far and brought it to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

“Alright Adler, keep your secrets then.” You let your head rest on his shoulder and eyes close. Frank was stubborn, always had been. You knew when you just had to let it go. You drifted in and out as he sped along the interstate. Soon he was turning off, but you weren't quick enough to catch what the exit was, so still had no idea. 

“Are we there?” 

“Close, you don't know where we are?” He asked with a slight laugh in his voice. You shrug a bit as you two are driving down the main drag of the area, passing all night gas stations, fast food chain restaurants, outlet stores and parking lots. 

“No clue, every place in Florida has this Frank.” 

He hummed a bit, slowing to an intersection and flicking on his blinker. “True, but you will soon see.” He winked as he made the turn, pulling away from the city-like area and moving towards the beach strip. Where million dollar homes, hotels, and beach side tourist traps laid quiet in the barely morning hours. It was starting to lighten though, you could see the black blue of the night sky make way for lighter purples and pinks. 

So you remained patient, waiting for wherever Frank was taking you. The terrain started to get sandier, the crack of the window took on a breezy salty scent and you could taste the hint of surf and sand in the air. Your lips turned upwards, just that scent alone reminded you of a couple years ago, and it all clicked right where you were. 

Your first overnight away from home with Frank was to Fort Myers, a small rundown motel on the beach. The room was iffy, the Ac barely worked, neither of you dared to use the pool. At the time it was all you two could afford. And it was all perfect. 

Because that morning, before sunrise, you two escaped to the beach, arm in arm and sat in the dunes to watch the sunrise over the crashing ocean, and all was perfect in the world with each other. 

Frank glanced over to see the knowing look on your face, and his own softened in a smile, his hand coming to grasp the inside of your thigh gently, squeezing. “Now you know?” He pulled into an almost deserted parking lot. At the other end were a group of people, unstrapping their boards to get ready to go into the surf. 

“Of course Frankie.” You said with a touch of sentiment in your tone as you leaned over to peck his lips and nip at him playfully. “How can I forget?” You pull away suddenly and jump out of the car, yanking off your shoes to ditch in the truck. Frank followed, doing the same with his own boots. 

You had already taken off into the sand, making your way towards the surf to dig your feet into the wet sand happily. Now it was getting lighter, those dark purples and pinks made way for the reds and oranges as the barest hint of the sun kissed the horizon. 

Frank came up behind, having managed to yank his jeans up partially around his calves and pressed you two to walk out a bit further into the surf, the salt water spritzing you both in a fine cooling mist, clinging to your skin, in your hair, on your clothes. It all brought back the sensations of that first trip together. You fall back into his chest while he dips his head to mouth kisses into your neck, enjoying the quiet of the moment with you in a more physical way for a moment. Making you tilt your head to the side while the sun finally broke. 

From the nearby pier, heavy pelicans lined the side to swoop down, skimming over the water in lines, giving the two of you a show all for yourselves, among the surf the small sandpipers chased after the tiny ghost crabs trying to escape back into the surf, all of it made you smile. This felt like home to you, right here with Frank. 

“It feels like forever since we have visited.” You finally say as you turn to face Frank, the two of you stepping out of the surf, and hand in hand making your way along the beach's edge towards the pier, the sandpipers running away as fast as they could, a few taking to wing to fly several yards ahead of you to start there search in the surf retreating back from the edge once more. 

“Been a couple years at least. I was looking at the calendar and realized an anniversary of ours was coming up.” He mentioned while you two stepped under the pier. A small private world for you two at the moment as far above you people made their way towards the end stretching out over the water, ready to drip lines for fishing in the surf. Here though, underneath it all, was just for you and Frank. 

Nothing but water crashing to the shore, wood above your heads and the morning bringing back fond memories. Memories of shared kisses against one of the ageless logs helping to hold the deck yards above them steady, the way your legs wrapped around his hips as he pinned you in place and loved you so freely out in the open where they could be caught. How afterwards Frank said those words that he never uttered to anyone else in the way he said it to you. 

Fuck I think I love you. 

You thought then you loved him to. Now you knew you did. Your fingers looped in his belt loops and you walked backwards, till your back pressed once more against that sand and salt aged wood, looking up at him in the now very present dawn. 

“You know Frank, I think I love you.” 

“You know what Y/N, I think I love you too.” He winked, sliding in closer till he was pressed against you, his hands cupping the side of your face and tilting up to meet him, his tongue sliding past soft lips to the sweet heat of your mouth and tangling his tongue with yours. It elicited a soft moan from the back of your throat. 

Warming salty air really agreed with Frank, mixing the tastes on your tongue, you curled your arms around his body, clutching at his back as you now clung to him, thoroughly enjoying the way this kiss made you feel. 

The sensations of love and passion curling in your belly and your heart thud against your breast bone, absorbing into Frank as he pressed into your body, trying to daze you from rational thoughts, away from the everyday thoughts. 

Frank had a talent at making you appreciate the here and now. 

And right here, with sand covering your feet, your shirt and pants clinging to you from the ocean spray and your man completely pressing every ounce of his affection into you, you could do nothing but appreciate being in the moment. 

“Scratch that, I don't think, I know I love you Frank Adler.” You managed to break out of his kiss for half a second. 

“I know you do.” He assured you as he grasped the back of your thighs and lifted you enough to fold your legs around his waist. “I plan on showing you just how I feel.” He promised, the glint in his ocean blue eyes turning mischievously playful under that pier.

[causalgelato1993445]

Drunken Snaps & Unrequited love

Chapter two

pairing: felix x reader, with a hint of chan

word count: 1,376 

warnings: mentions of alcohol abuse and fighting

group: skz

The morning is fresh, and rich with the smell of earthy autumn leaves. A cool breeze drifts through the holes in my cream sweater, and on any other day, I'd exhale with a smile and thank the universe for a cool day to break the cycle of endless heat. Today, however, I'm holding in that breath. My body is tense and stiff. I’ve dreaded this Monday morning and its consequences for two days.

As I slide into the seat of my car, I open snapchat, and read over the messages to which I still haven't responded. Part of me feels guilty, and rightfully so. Felix does not deserve to be left on open. However the situation is tricky, and I fear saying the wrong thing. 

Last Friday, I made a big mistake.

Before Christopher arrived, Felix Lee and I were best friends. We grew up together, experienced middle school alongside one another. We giggled together when Mrs. Miller would mispronounce words, or when Peter DeWitt would run down the halls screaming profanities. The beauty of public school was the friends i’d made, and the heartbreaks, and the fights and make ups. And all the while the smaller blonde remained by my side, faithfully, as if it were his only responsibility.

It never occurred to me why…

Felix is a straight A student. He does his community service at the local animal shelter to play with all the “lonely dogs”. He’s on the swim team, and swimming has given him a beautiful physique, but the boy only wears baggy sweaters and hoodies. He is trustworthy and patient, and anyone would be lucky to have him. And yet, he chose me.

In another life, if I'd never met Christopher, I might have loved felix.

When Chris moved here, and started school our freshman year, Felix grew distant. He hung around less, came over less, and began cancelling plans. He snarled his nose when I would speak of chris. He would act annoyed when I would lose myself in thoughts of him. And now, I understand.

The smell of sweat, and ungodly amounts of Victoria's secret perfume hits me like a brick as I walk through the doors. I’m eyeing my surroundings, turning every corner with caution so I don't run into Felix unintentionally. Of course, I plan on confronting him eventually, but for now, avoiding him seems to be the most promising option. The homeroom bell has not rung yet, so i opt for a quick stop by my locker. It would benefit my stressed out mind not to have 30 extra pounds of weight on my back.

But my heart stops when I see him standing at my locker. Why him, why now. 

“uh...Chris. What’s up?”

He’s leaning against my locker, arms crossed with a friendly smile. 

“Oh, hey, I was waiting for you!” He speaks in his thick aussie accent. I do my best not to melt into a puddle.

“Yea, I noticed. What can I help you with?” I ask. It’s too early for this.

“Actually, (y/n) was it? I need some help with something, and I was told you could help. Do you know Clara?” He asks. I flinch at the name. And suddenly i realize, she was the blonde girl with the flowers.

“You mean Clara Casteel? Yeah, Why?”

“Well,” he reaches a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “I was hoping you would talk to her for me.”

“uhhh...Clara and I haven't talked since 5th grade. You know we aren’t-”

“I know I know, the big fight, your parents, the drinking. You aren’t friends with her anymore. But why would that stop you from at least trying?” He persists. I stare at him in confusion. Why would he push me to talk to her if he knew what had happened. And who told him that I would?

“I...i’m gonna get to class.” I mutter, brows furrowed.

The lunch bell rings, and I’m awoken from my class nap. Nobody seems to have suspected anything. I rise from my seat slowly and stretch out my stiff limbs. Something catches my eye. A tiny ghost notification. My heart beats a little faster and I curse at myself for being so afraid. 

I open up a snap, and as I suspected, it’s felix. This time, without thinking i open it to reveal all four messages. 

“(y/n)? Did you get my snap?”

“Am I bothering you?”

“When can I see you?” and finally

“(y/n) i’m sitting in the far left corner at the empty table. Please come sit with me.”

I sigh, collecting my things and trudging to the lunchroom. When I arrive, marissa waves me over, but my eyes instinctively drift to the far left corner. And there he is. In front of him is a single chocolate muffin and a ceramic travel mug of tea. He’s sporting an oversized blue knit sweater and a pair of ripped jeans, his platinum locks tousled from the outdoor wind. He must have walked to starbucks for lunch. 

The boy has his slim legs crossed at the calves, and he’s giggling at something on his phone. I almost want to go sit with him. I start to turn to head towards marissa’s table, when i see felix pop his head up. He immediately looks at me, and breaks out in a grin. Suddenly, the boy waves me over, pulling a small Starbucks bag up from the seat next to him. Que the guilt.

Against my better judgement I start to walk over, and he’s practically buzzing with excitement. When I reach the table, the boy is at his peak of happiness. 

“Oh, (y/n) for a second i thought you wouldn’t show, but i’m so glad you did. I saw you finally opened my snaps, you must not have gotten them until today.” he rambles. I crack a smile. 

“Yeah, I got them. Is that for me?” I smirk. He grins, and he resembles the sun.

“Oh, yeah! It's a lemon pound cake. I know it’s your favorite.” he bounces it off his seat as he hands it to me. It’s a little crumbled. I chuckle.

The blonde stares down bashfully as I take a bite of it, pulling his small hands into the holes of his sleeves. For a minute I can see the sheer infatuation in his eyes. He’s so genuine, and full of life. He deserves to have someone, he deserves to be loved on. But I just don’t want to push him further away than I already had.

“You know,” he mumbles, “I almost questioned if that snap was even for me. But why else would you have talked to me at hyunjin’s party?” I frown, resting my chin on my palm. “Anyway, I'm glad you did. I’ve loved you since 6th grade. I felt so bad for you after what happened with Clara. I thought you were still hung up on chris.”

“Well…” I begin “we’ll see what happens.” I gave a weak smile, taking another bite of the treat. 

“Can I take you out this weekend? Well, I mean...you’ll have to drive us, but dinner is on me.” he smiles bashfully. 

Before I have the opportunity to answer, the bell rings yet again. We stand, and Felix does a small stretch. He waddles over to me with his arms outstretched, and embraces me around my waist. He has a look of joy on his face, almost as if he were a child holding a puppy. 

As the lunchroom grows empty, the boy looks at me in the eyes for the first time with red cheeks. Platinum bangs falling into his eyes. 

“(y/n), i missed you. Please don’t forget about me this time.” he whispers. The room is silent as we stand alone in the far left corner of the lunch room. I brush the hair away from his face and he wrinkles his nose. 

“I’ll pick you up at 5:00 on friday” I whisper to him, letting go of his small body and exiting through the metal doors. 

Outside the art room, Clara Casteel giggles, twirling her hair as Chris smiles his lopsided smile. Our eyes meet as I pass by.

[a-mended-pact]

Unsteady Keys : Chapter one

💬 Authors notes: here's to my first ever chaptered fanfic debut! Feel free to interact and ask questions! 💌

Series Masterlist

✒Word count: 1,486

Part 2

Part 3

Spencer and I have been married for 3 years now. Which means I knew all the tests and trails Catherine Adam's had put him through. I started at the Bau shortly after cases with her started piling up. I watched him crumble while trying to put himself back together again with Max after prison.

We had been friends for quite some time. Connecting over our knowledge and love for literature and the fact that out of everyone that worked on the team I knew what it was like to have someone older than you need to be taken care of by you. Having people in my family that have the same conditions as his mother. Brought us closer together. To say I understood was an understatement. 

 Max left him because of everything that happened between Cat Adams and her family. She could never seem to let it go. As if it were solely his fault for what happened to them. I suppose in a way it was. I couldn't blame her for wanting a way out. Those two tried to make it work for months and months of failed attempts and meaningless dates. That just ended up in fights and arguments because Max could never truly forgive nor could she truly forget. 

Once those two finally went their separate ways Spencer had been very standoffish to every female in his life that wasn't his mother or a team member. Who could blame him?

I suppose that's where I come in? Well more frequently into his life rather than just at colleague and an occasional friend. 

Soon enough one thing led to another and we hit it off amazingly. We married within less than a year of dating.

======

Standing there watching him interact with Cat made my blood boil not out of jealousy, definitely not. It was boiling because we hadn't gotten anywhere yet on finding the whereabouts of her latest plaything.The poor creature was more than likely just a puppet on strings. A means to an end. She was trying to prolong her execution date. I'm sure of it.

 How she still managed to be such a pain in the ass for us was beyond me.

If it wasn't for the speaker on the wall. I wouldn't have known anything they said to one another. The thought of that drove me insane. I knew that Spencer had to play into her game more than the rest of us. The only problem was I'm not sure how much he was truly playing. The attraction he showed her was more than he had ever really shown anyone else. Which meant I was left questioning whether or not I truly was as important to him as he was to me.

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

‘Cat, we don’t have time for your games. You’ve lost control over your accomplice, just admit it!’  My hands slammed hard against the cold metal table. We didn’t have time for this. If we weren’t careful another person was going to go missing along with another body being dropped. Whoever she had working for her had clearly gone off the original script. Cat knew how to act confident and not give much away. Having dealt with her so long though I could tell she was losing it. She didn’t like not being in control. Control was everything to her. 

‘Spencie, don’t go bursting a blood vessel now. It’s only a game after all.’ her voice was flirty and condescending. It made me nauseous just thinking about how badly her words made me want to break her and put her in her place. The bottom of the food chain. 

“Oh Spencie baby, have I worked you up? Did I hurt someone you care about again?” She let out a child-like laugh. I felt my skin crawl in response. I knew my wife was on the other side of the double sided glass. I knew she could see everything, hear everything. That still didn’t stop me from falling right into what Cat wanted from me. Aren’t I supposed to be a genius? 

I moved myself closer to her, sitting myself on the table with both my legs on either side of her. 

‘I’ve been such a bad girl, Spencie.’ chewing on her lip looking up at me. I swear I saw stars. I love my wife I swear I do but something about Cat Adams got me blindingly turned on. All I wanted to do was grab her by her head and make her gag on me in this exact position. That would be a way to make her stop being so mouthy.  I had to find her alluring or else getting information from her wouldn’t work. Right? That’s what I've been telling myself all these years anyway. 

‘Are you going to give me any valuable information? If not, I am leaving.’ The aggression in my voice didn’t go unnoticed by her. A smirk forming on her lips. She looked me up and down. ‘Careful Spenice wouldn’t want your wife to know how turned on you are by me.’ She ran her cuffed hands up my thighs until she caressed me through my slacks. I could do nothing but watch her. Eventually like a moth drawn to a flame I touched her. Smacking her hand away. Probably hard enough to make the cuffs dig into her skin.  I glared at her. I honestly didn’t know what else to do. I was stunned into silence. 

I stormed out of the room. Rage fueling my every step.

‘Oh Doc did I hit a nerve? Don’t worry there is plenty more where that came from!’ I heard her shout once I had closed the door. I turned to see if my wife was still there. She wasn’t. 

‘Shit!’ I shouted, running my hands through my hair. How could I have let Cat become my puppeteer so easily? 

I glanced up at her through the glass. It was like she was looking directly at me. 

‘Don’t worry, you know you haven’t seen the last of me’ She winked.

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

I couldn’t do it anymore. The moment I saw him move that close to her. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I knew what he was doing. Logically I knew he was just playing into the game. Why did it bother me so much? He was my husband but why did I feel like he really just belonged to her. I had to get out of here. I needed some fresh air. 

When I made it to the parking lot I could finally feel the air enter my lungs. I could feel myself calming down. My blood was no longer boiling and I couldn't hear my heart beating in my ears anymore.

That feeling of relief wouldn’t last long though. Spencer had to have been looking for me by now. He could probably tell that he wasn’t going to get anymore answers from her as much as I could. So why did he continue to try?

I started walking towards my car. Spencer had left home to be at work early today. Knowing we will be dealing with Cat. I sighed I just needed to get as far away from him right now as humanly possible. To be honest I was uncomfortable with how close he had gotten to her. He had never lied to me about how he was in fact attracted to her. He told me when we were just friends. That for some ungodly reason he himself couldn’t figure out.

 I knew Spencer Reid loved me. He had a special way he looked at me that made me believe him. He told me every day. He’d randomly blurt it out when we were alone together like he couldn’t hold it in. I thought it was cute and enduring how he always viewed each day with me as a new day to flood me with his ‘I love yous.’ today though I hadn't heard a single one from him.

I slammed my car door and started the car. I sat there messaging Emily to let her know I was heading home and that I wasn’t feeling well. The words on my phone screen began to blur. I started feeling nauseous along with my vision becoming foggy. I could barely make out  Spencer jogging to my car when I felt my world begin to spin. That’s when I noticed the strange smell that was coming out of my ac vents. I quickly started to panic trying to open my car door. It was jammed. I started banging against the window. It wouldn’t break. I even tried turning off my car but it wouldn’t even do that. Every time I did. Something would turn it back on. Spencer never made it to me. Not before I lost consciousness. The last thing I remember hearing before my vision went fully black were the sound of screeching tires. 

Taglist!

@sassymoon @rainsong01 @onlyhereforthefanfics

[dokidokey]

when you drag sakusa out to a very early morning / very late night meteor shower watching, he thinks how it would end up if he confessed the feelings he’s been harboring for a long time now.

pairings: sakusa kiyoomi x reader

prompt: “you woke me up at 3 am for this?”

genre: fluff

warnings: platonic relationship, pining

word count: 1,700

notes: my 2nd hqhq server collab yay! THIS is the masterlist consisting of other writers who participated, check it out!

Apart from Sakusa’s love for cleaning products, especially green apple-flavored sanitizers, he also loves his sleep. He cherishes it as much as he does his hand sanitizers. So when he hears his phone ring in the middle of the night, he’s already thinking about how he’s going to make you pay for disturbing his sleep.

You aren’t calling though. It’s an alarm he knows he never set up. 2:50 AM glares right back at him from his phone screen, and much to his dismay, he hears his bedroom door open and in walks you, in all your grinning glory.

“Hi!” You greet him, giving a little wave of your hand before you tuck it back behind you. “So. . . you’re awake.”

“You think?”

A sheepish smile graces your face as you rock back and forth on your heels. Sakusa trusts you enough to let you inside his room, being that you’re his roommate and, dare he say it, best friend. He takes it as an achievement that his cleanliness rubbed off on you. Whenever Bokuto or anyone from his team would come over, he didn’t have to stress himself over how much of their germs would get transferred inside his  things and yours because you do it for him. Sometimes he thinks you’re more extreme than he ever was.

“I told you I was going to wake you up but you didn’t say anything? So I just set up an alarm for you, just in case,” you shrug nonchalantly. Then you add, “besides, I don’t do this often so don’t give me that look.”

“What look?” he asks, pushing his comforter off him and sliding on his slippers.

“That look!” You accuse, pointing a finger at his face. You follow Sakusa as he makes his way to his bathroom, leaning on the doorway and watching him as he opens the faucet. “Like you’re so bored.”

Kiyoomi meets your gaze on your reflection in the mirror. “Maybe I am.”

You groan, crossing your arms and frowning at him. Sakusa ducks his head down as he gathers a handful of water on his palms and splashes it onto his face. Honestly speaking, he really doesn’t mind that you woke him up at this hour. Bokuto has long bled his ears off about his obvious crush on you and it came off as a surprise to Sakusa that it was Bokuto that noticed first. The rest of MSBY knew it some time after when they overheard Bo blackmailing him to attend one of their parties.

The only person that still doesn’t know is you.

And he prefers it this way. This way, where he doesn’t have to tiptoe around you. You’ve been friends for a long, long time now and Kiyoomi knows you like the back of his hand. He can tell anyone that asks that he knows how you use your handkerchiefs in a color-coordinated way － starting from red to black, like a rainbow of some sorts. Kiyoomi knows that you wake up at 6:15 in the morning. That is after you snooze your other alarms that have a 5-minute interval.

He’s fine like this, with you frowning at him from the doorway of his bathroom at this ungodly hour in the morning rather than getting rejected. Because if you liked him back, you would pay attention to him, right? You’d notice things the way he notices things about you. You’d see him in another light than everybody else. You’d be hyperaware because that’s how Kiyoomi is with you.

But you aren’t, so he turns around and reaches over to grab his face towel to dry his skin. “What do you want, anyway?”

“You really weren’t paying attention to me!” You cry, throwing your hands in the air as you step away and plops yourself on his bed, facedown.

Now that he thinks about it, Sakusa has no recollection of you telling him about waking up this early, so it must have been one of those rare instances he was preoccupied with something else. “So?” He prods as he steps out of the bathroom and grabs his phone, “what?”

“I’m not telling you,” you shout but it’s muffled against the covers of the bed. You stand up, grab his wrist, and push his door open. He says nothing as you lead him out of your shared apartment and inside the elevator, pushing the button to the highest floor. Once you reach the top, you both trudge up the metal stairs that leads to the rooftop.

The air is biting as it touches Kiyoomi’s skin, sweeping his hair back like a black veil. The city below is alive with the constant honks of the cars and the lights that almost rival the stars, giving the horizon a yellow haze.

“What are we doing here?” He asks, walking closer to the edge but not touching the railing.

“We wait,” he hears you reply.

“So you woke me up at 3 AM for this?” Sakusa is confused. “For real?”

You hum enthusiastically, head bobbing up and down as you smile at him. Your eyes form crescents, contrasting the real one that’s hanging quite full above. You turn away from him, giving him the chance to study your side profile. You really are beautiful. A light chuckle escapes his lips when he notices the slight bump on the bridge of your nose. Sakusa has woken up to countless mornings of you complaining about how much you don’t like it.

“It’s cold out here,” he mumbles, pocketing his hands to keep them warm. He wonders how you can stand the cold breeze in a tank top, a part of your chest and your arms exposed.

You huff and roll your eyes, scrunching your nose. “I know but who cares?”

“I do.”

You huff again, crossing your arms and leaning slightly on him. Sakusa is aware of the way your hair bites against his skin, of the feel of your arms against his. It feels warm, enough so that a shiver crawls up his spine.

“Oh, there they are!”

His thoughts are disrupted with a pointed finger aimed at the sky. He squints as he looks to where you’re pointing and there it goes, streaks of white painting the darkness. He watches as they fall collectively, highly aware of your grip on his arms now. An arm is wrapped around his bicep, both palms laid flat on his skin. It burns and it hurts to have you close like this, dangling at the very ends of his fingertips without any chance of having you fully.

Your giddiness is adorable though. You’re practically bouncing on the tips of your toes, eyes wide and alert for more coming comets as they rain down the atmosphere. A small squeak of surprise and wonder alike would fall from your lips every time, and comes with it is the gentle feeling of your grip on him getting a little tighter.

“Oh, that one’s so bright, Omi!” You gasp. Sakusa follows your finger to a bright falling meteor, streaking the sky brightly. You both watch as it falls and gradually gets swallowed by the dark.

“Do you know Halley’s comet?” You inquire suddenly. Your eyes are the brightest of all the lights and stars tonight as you look at him with a pout. “Do you?” You softly prod.

Kiyoomi shakes his head with a hum. He lied. He does know what it was. How could he forget when it was the very first topic you talked to him about when you got partnered for a science project way back in high school.

“It’s like the most famous comet of all, how can you not know?” You look at him dramatically, face scrunched up. “It shows up around every. . . sixty eight. . . ? No, around seventy five years, I think. God, I’d be so damn old. I don’t even know if I’ll live long enough to see that,” you exasperate. Kiyoomi barely absorbs the words you’re enthusiastically discussing. He knows he should be paying attention to your words but how can he when you’re right there? You’re distracting enough and the fact that you’re now latched onto his arm is making his head spin.

You sigh as you put a foot forward, toeing the concrete. “People who can see it twice are so lucky. Yeah, sure, I’d see it but I’m so old then? I don’t even know if my eyes can still see clearly when that happens.”

Sakusa flicks your forehead. “You talk like you aren’t always squinting today,” he says. “I told you many times to get your eye checked.”

“My eyes are totally fine!”

“You can’t even read the text on the menu last week! I don’t even know how you saw those meteors.”

A pinch is delivered to the skin above Sakusa’s wrist and he flinches. He pinches you right back and contemplates the thoughts that are running through his head right this moment. Tonight is a great opportunity to confess his feelings or ruin your friendship. If it goes well, then good for him. If it doesn’t, at least it ended quite decently. Right?

His mouth is moving before he fully processes the words he’s saying.

“I could wait for that comet with you,” he says and he almost throws up. It sounded so disgusting and cheesy and so unlike him that he is sure Atsumu would never let him live that down if he heard.

“Omi.” You choke out a laugh, patting the back of his hand, “Atsumu is never going to let you live that down.

Sakusa groans internally, his jaw clenching as his stance goes rigid. Is that your way of rejecting him?

“But sure,” you muse and his heart rate picks up, “I just hope you won’t drop me when I’m old and wrinkly.”

And there goes his unplanned attempt at confession that went by way smoother than he expected, excluding the fact that he lowkey got rejected. It’s pretty evident you don’t return his feelings. He’s more stressed now about how he will break this news to Bokuto tomorrow at practice.

“As long as you’re clean,” Kiyoomi replies, “I think we’ll go a long way.”

[secretobsessionstuff]

i’ve missed madix and riley a bunch lately!! so maybe when you’ve got the time (and inspiration ) would you write something for them? maybe with the phrase “hey, you passed out. don’t sit up yet, just relax.” (or something along the lines of rhat) for them? i hope you are staying well & healthy, and happy new year!!!

Sorry it took me so long to get to this prompt. Anyway enjoy this fic that is in no way inspired by my life. 

“I know you’re nervous, but you have to eat something,” Madix said to Riley as they drove into the student parking lot.

It was early, around 8 o’clock in the morning, and neither of them had had breakfast yet. There was a coffee shop inside the building that Madix hoped would have his favourite donut. Next to him in the passenger seat, Riley wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs for the millionth time. Riley was certainly not hoping to eat a donut because his stomach was already queasy from the nerves. It was the master’s thesis presentation day, and he dreaded what was to come. A full day of watching presentations was not appealing, especially since he was the second to last person. Riley wished that he could have been earlier and just get it over with, but instead he had to sit through other people presenting their research.

When Riley didn’t respond – too focused on wiping the sweat on his pants – Madix carried on. “There’s still a while before we all meet in the lecture hall. At least get something to drink.”

So that’s what Riley did. He carefully sipped his tea (coffee would simply make his hands shake more) while Madix ate a decent breakfast. He munched on his donut, forever worried about his boyfriend who looked around nervously. Madix reached his hands across the table to grab onto Riley’s. “It’s going to be fine. It’ll be less than an hour and then you’re done!”

“Forty-five minutes is so long.” That is an ungodly amount of time for one person to talk continuously. Riley thought back to his undergrad thesis that was only 10 minutes and even that was terrifying! He did not want to ramble in front of a whole room for an hour.

“And the whole thing is fantastic,” Madix insisted. “You practiced for me a billion times and it always sounded great.”

“I wish it could just be you in the room.”

“Then just look at me the whole time.”

Riley let out a nervous laugh. He supposed looking at Madix for an hour straight didn’t sound too bad. “Okay yeah, yeah. It’ll be fine. It’s fine.” 

Madix raised Riley’s hands to his lips and gave them a kiss. “It’ll be more than fine.” Then he pushed a donut towards his boyfriend who was looking far too pale that morning. “Now eat something goddammit.”

Later when that donut and tea were sitting uneasily in Riley’s stomach, they all found themselves in the lecture hall. Riley tapped on the table in front of him, waiting for the presentations to begin. The first half of the day wasn’t terrible. The presentations were interesting enough that Riley could forget about his own. Well, his taping fingers and bouncing legs never really forgot about what was to come, but the panic didn’t start until his time slot got nearer. By the time the lunch break came around, Riley’s stress was rising higher. Of course, he completely ignored eating again because the ache in his belly was more than a little stress stomach-ache.

His time slot was next. Every inch of his skin was on fire except for his hands that were cold and clammy. From beneath the table, he felt Madix put his hand over his bouncing leg.

Madix leaned over so that he could whisper. “Please breathe, you’re as white as a ghost.”

Riley wished that he could be a ghost and disappear. Instead, he settled for a trip to the bathroom. Maybe he could flush himself down the toilet. “I’ll be back.”

As Riley stood up from his chair, he needed to catch himself on the desk in front of him. He reached his sweaty palms out to save him from falling forward as the edges of his vision got dark. Whoa, his head felt funny. And God, his stomach felt worse. As if he were drunk, he swayed out of the door. Madix didn’t follow him but that was okay because he needed a moment to himself.

Riley felt like he was dreaming as he walked down the hallway. Once in the bathroom, he braced himself on the sink and tried to take deep breaths. Sometimes he swears that his eyes have dimmers, and in that moment, he thought for sure that someone was dimming the lights behind his eyes.

The darkness didn’t spread luckily, but the nausea was certainly spreading through his body. Oh fuck, he really did not want to be sick just minutes before his presentation. He also didn’t want to risk presenting with a vomit-stained shirt, so he knelt to the floor in one of the stalls.

The still water in the toilet taunted the choppy seas in his own belly. Actually, he wondered how his stomach could have been anything more than a dried-up wasteland. The only thing he ate or drank that day was a donut and a tea. Still, his stomach was mad and didn’t like the stress that ran through his veins.

A harsh gag came up Riley’s throat, but it was dry. Oh God, oh no! He couldn’t believe this was about to happen. His stomach spasmed again but still nothing came up. His chest burned. He didn’t want to do this; he didn’t want to be here. Another gag grated up his throat.

Meanwhile, Madix was getting more concerned with how long Riley had been gone for. The current student was wrapping up his presentation, and then there would only be the question period before it was Riley’s turn. That’s it. Madix left to find his boyfriend.

Madix opened the bathroom door just in time to hear a strangled noise come from one of the stalls. He could see Riley kneeling on the floor. Riley moaned miserably after letting out that choked gag. Madix swore under his breath and mumbled, “Oh deer…”

He stood behind Riley who left the stall door open. He watched as Riley’s shoulders quaked with each empty heave. “Well shit, Ry.”

Riley was too focused on the roiling of his gut to be surprised by Madix’s sudden appearance. He sniffled as snot ran from his nose. “Ugh – I’m sorry.” He coughed which triggered another rough retch. “I can’t. I – hic.”

“Alright, alright.” Madix got to the floor next to Riley and put his hand on the boy’s trembling back. He needed to calm him down before anything worse happened. “Remember to breathe.”

Instead of breathing, Riley decided to make thing worse for him. “Is it my turn yet?”

“I’m not sure…” Madix bit his lip in worry. “How about you focus on calming down before worrying about that.”

Riley really wanted to get up. His time had run out and no one would care that his stomach was in knots. “I have to get back.” A belch burst from his mouth that left saliva dripping from his lips. He wiped it away. He made a move to get up, but a heavy hand stayed on his back. “I haven’t actually puked yet.”

Madix clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “That’s because there’s barely anything in your stomach, baby.” He hated the fact that he could feel the tension in Riley’s muscles. He hated the way Riley’s legs shook as he tried to get up. “You’re hurting yourself.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I have to do this.”

Madix stayed quiet, unsure how to respond. He had no clue what time it was, but he guessed that the lecture hall would be waiting for the next student. Madix sighed and backed up with his hands in the air. “…If you say so.”  

Riley sniffled and stood up with legs that trembled as bad a newborn deer. Once he became upright, those lights behind his eyes flickered for a moment. That dream-like sensation returned and he couldn’t tell which way was up. There came another flicker of his vision before the lights died out completely.

“Riley!” Madix shouted as his boyfriend went limp. The boy’s legs buckled awkwardly, and some unconscious part of Riley’s brain made a last-ditch effort to catch himself before blacking out. His arms came reaching out towards Madix.

“Ah okay, I got you. I got you.” Madix caught Riley before he could fall to the ground. They became a tangle of arms, and Madix wasn’t prepared to untangle the mess. He heard Riley mumbled something in his semi-conscious state, but it was all gibberish. “Shh, You’re okay.” It was good that he only really blacked out for a second.

“Ugh…Madix.” Riley’s eyelids fluttered opened, but soon closed again. There was no way for him to hold his own weight. His head rolled forward onto Madix’s chest as he was being carefully lowered to the ground.

Madix gently sat Riley up against the wall. They were no longer in the stall because Madix had stumbled backwards to catch his boyfriend. He clumsily brought them both to the floor just as Riley’s eyes began to regain clarity. Madix put his hand on Riley’s pale cheek and slightly rubbed his thumb across his dry skin.

“What happened?” Riley mumbled. He squinted in the florescent light of the bathroom and moaned in pain. Everything hurt. His mouth was dry, and the nausea was as persistent as ever. In his disoriented state, the only thing he knew for certain was that his belly was being stirred up. The thumping of his heartbeat was a ticking clock telling him that he was still screwing up. He put his hands on the ground, about to stand, but then he saw Madix’s sweet face.

“Hey, you passed out,” Madix said softly. “Don’t get up yet. Just relax.” He gave Riley’s shoulder a squeeze. His boyfriend really did look awful with dark sunken eyes and a grimace of pain.

Riley groaned and wrapped his arms around his torso. He wanted to say something to Madix, probably sorry or thank you, but the only thing that came out was a wet gag. He followed it with a weak heave, the first one to not be dry. A small amount of pale vomit spilled past his lips and landed on his shirt.

Madix cooed, feeling terrible that his boyfriend had to deal with this. “You’re alright, baby. Let it happen.”

Riley let out a shallow burp that brought with it a thin string of bile and frothy saliva. A hiccupped seized his chest and forced his shoulders forward as another small gush of sick dripped down his chin. Riley wanted to cry but his eyes were too dry. “Ugh, what am I going to do?”

“I’ll tell you what you’re going to do,” Madix said as he ran a paper towel under cold water. He came back with the wet paper and gently wiped Riley’s face. “You’re going to sit here until you feel ready to get up – until you won’t pass out when you try to stand – and then we’ll talk to someone about rescheduling. We’ll see about getting you a more private presentation.”

Riley moaned. “I don’t like any of this.”

“I know you don’t,” Madix said. “I’ll help you fix this. There must be accommodations for mental health.”

That seemed like the best Riley could hope for. He accepted that there was no way he’d be able to go on today. It was irresponsible for him to push himself anymore, and Madix managed to convince him that he didn’t screw anything up. Things happen and most people are understanding.

“However,” Madix began with an intent look, “that doesn’t mean you can just not eat or drink. Like I said, you’re hurting yourself, and I don’t like seeing like this.”

“I know...I’m sorry.”

Madix gave his boyfriend a sad smile. “No need to apologize to me.” 

[crows-murder]

Twinyards

it’s 2am and i hate myself and im literally dead on my feet but i cant fucking sleep so here i am instead

as far as most sibling relationships go, the twins have a....unique bond

they hate each other

but they don’t

it took nicky some time to understand that yes, the twins did care for him and each other

in their own way

at first glance, no one would see it-- not even nicky. through longer exposure, it would be hard to discern, but nicky did, somehow

he really first noticed after Andrew had almost killed the four guys attacking nicky

after that, nicky started picking up the small things

when aaron went to the local starbucks on days they woke up early but didn’t want to make breakfast, he knew andrew and nicky’s orders by heart

when andrew convinced nicky to buy ice cream despite nicky protesting that they should be mindful of their money, andrew always got nicky’s favorite flavor as well

on rough days when nicky was just drowning in the stress of holding a job and paying for the bills, the twins would stay in their room, to let nicky pick himself back up, before ordering pizza and turning on the tv

they never talked about it. if someone brought it up, an argument very often followed up

the twins have a strange way of showing affection, but that’s because they never learned to show proper affection

aaron was always quick to get angry and andrew was indifferent to the point of aggravation and pure frustration

it was their ways of coping

andrew by not caring and aaron by being angry at anyone for no reason

their first meeting could have gone a lot worse, but they both in a subconscious way saw the other as a survivor of their circumstances

and andrew did care. so did aaron

aaron reached out to his brother, filled for the first time with the hope that someone out there cares about him. he hopes and hopes that it will work out.

it doesn’t. aaron’s heart just breaks and his hope is shredded when andrew tells him to fuck off. 

andrew wanted a brother, too. he wanted to have at least one good thing, one thing that life wouldn’t fuck up for him

but andrew couldn’t even have that. he couldn’t let his brother, his twin, go through what he was going through. so he pushed him away, made sure he’d be safe from his life. 

when andrew learns that despite trying to protect his brother, he had still failed, he was angry. he was so angry. he was protecting someone who was being hurt by his mother. by their mother. who’d been so hurt, he would get high just to forget the hurt

deep down, aaron always knew his mother never truly cared. deep down he understood why andrew killed her. but he refused to admit it. he refused to believe his mother deserved it. 

the twins weren’t subtle, but they didn’t know how they felt towards each other. it was hard to describe, and not one word really could.

andrew was first fiercely stubborn and loyal to aaron, trying to protect him the way he’d never been able to protect himself, and it slowly shifted onto nicky

aaron did care about andrew. he reached out. he wanted a brother. he wanted a twin. but he wasn’t expecting andrew. and it muddled the feelings, and when Tilda died, it just became worse, because of course aaron was angry and sad, and andrew couldn’t understand. and aaron didn’t understand how andrew could feel so little sympathy for their mother. andrew didn’t see how aaron could mourn the person who’d ruined him. who’d ruined them both, really.

nicky did try his best to get them to get along. but he didn’t really understand the issues and the layers of caution and hurt. he was pushing, but not in the right direction

and it’s not like either of the twins really tried either

in another life, they might’ve. in different circumstances, they might’ve. but Tilda was dead, and aaron and andrew had so many miscommunications to get through.

it wasn’t until Neil, and the early Thanksgiving at the Hemmicks that it changed

neil was different

he coaxed more out of andrew than aaron ever did. it’s one of the reasons why aaron hated him. how could he, practically a stranger who’d known them for half a year, could know more about andrew than aaron had learned in three years? some of it felt unfair to aaron, but he felt like he half deserved not knowing his brother. it wasn’t like he’d tried his hardest to get to know him. 

and it was how quickly neil had puzzled together the mess that was andrew and aaron

not even they could piece it together. it felt so thoroughly messed up and convoluted that they never though any of it was salvageable anymore

when neil brough up Tilda’s death, right after aaron had killed drake, aaron had felt angry, pissed off, borderline furious

but the thought stayed. and nagged.

and when andrew left for Easthaven, without even waiting for aaron to get back to columbia, it hurt more than he’d anticipated

aaron thought about it a lot. and he hated that neil’s statement had made so much sense

after that it was slow going

so slow no one really noticed at first. not even neil. but then neil started picking up one or two things, and then progressively, so did nicky

aaron started

the twins never really verbally apologized for hurting each other, either physically or with words. they’d just spit hurtful words at each other until one of them (usually aaron) stormed out. then, usually a few hours later, one of them called out the answer of a particularly hard homework question for the other and the whole thing was forgotten

it was just how they worked

maybe it was the way they were brought up, or maybe it was just the way they operated, but neither twin needed the other to physically say the words “i’m sorry”. it was usually implied through action, as were most things with them.

and aaron found it easier to forgive andrew for killing Tilda that he thought

one morning in the Columbia house, andrew walked in the kitchen and aaron was there drinking coffee, waiting for his toast to pop out of the toaster, and handed andrew a cup of hot chocolate

andrew simply raised an eyebrow, but took it anyway.

after that, it remained slow.

when andrew went to the store, he’d sometimes buy aaron’s favorite ice cream flavor

and it goes back and forth for a while

they don’t mention it. aaron never brings up the fact that study sheets occasionally appear on his desk the day before a test. andrew never mentions the newly stocked cocoa powder in the kitchen, stacked next to the coffee and tea.

its such small things its only noticeable to the twins and sometimes neil

and it stays at that, but it’s progress, and that’s never happened before, and when neil (and later nicky) notice, they just smile a little, because no matter how little, progress is progress, and it’s a big step for andrew and aaron.

they’re far from talking through their issues, and it occurs to neither of them, but they’re content to go slow 

once, aaron had a bad nightmare that woke him up at an ungodly hour of the night. he knew sleep wouldn’t come, not with the way he was shaking and sweating, so he decided coffee and a movie would distract him

he’s surprised to find andrew sitting on the countertop eating m&m’s aaron had bought just a day prior

they don’t speak at all. aaron just makes his tea and sits on the couch, and andrew stays on the counter, scrolling through his phone

aaron turns on the tv and puts on an animated series at low volume

at one point andrew turns his attention to the tv before sliding off the counter and going back to bed. aaron falls asleep on the couch

a couple of nights later, same thing happens again-- nightmares aren’t uncommon for the twins, or anyone really. if the twins cross path in the kitchen, one would just go back to their room

this time the kitchen is empty so aaron pulls out the ice cream and turns on the tv

andrew, being a light sleeper, wakes up. he knows who it is and debates getting up. he does, and this time directly goes to the living room and sits in an armchair, staring blankly at the tv. he only goes back to his room when aaron falls asleep, leaving the tv on.

andrew manages his nightmares better, but some still rattle him every so often, and enough that he usually stays up the rest of the night or finds neil and stays with him.

it’s one of the worse nights, and andrew wakes up in a panic, shivering and angrily wiping his wet face clean. he leaves his room, intent on finding neil before he realises it���s not neil he wants to be with

it annoys him, and he doesn’t like it, or even understand why, but he goes to aaron’s room anyways. he opens the door and settles in aaron’s desk, refusing to wake his twin up.

aaron finds him the next morning, snoring softly in his chair, his head resting in his crossed arms. (he’s really confused, and considers waking him, but decides against it and instead makes him hot chocolate for when he wakes up)

they still don’t talk much about it, but now they don’t act as tense around each other, and usually leave it at insulting the other.

nicky, having dealt with the twins, notices this and almost cries and nearly hugs both of them. he cares too much about graduating with all his limbs to do it, however

he mentions it to neil later, who had noticed the smaller gestures, and shares in  nicky’s delight. yes, neil has a certain dislike for aaron, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want andrew and aaron to have a healthy relationship with each other they clearly deserve.

to anyone else, this might be slightly ridiculous, not meaning anything, and probably not even noticeable, but for both of them, it was a huge step forward. 

aaron manages to find a spare mattress that he fits under his bed for andrew. andrew doesn’t put a mattress or explicitly tells aaron he can come in his room, so aaron opts instead for tv and snacks. sometimes andrew shows up, sometimes he doesn’t, and aaron finds he doesn’t mind.

one of those nights, aaron finds andrew already watching something on the tv when he shows up. it’s not a cartoon, but aaron grabs the leftover pizza from last night and watches with andrew

later, he looks up the series and ends up watching it. he catches up to the episode andrew was watching, and a couple nights later turns on the show

andrew is surprised that aaron wanted to catch up, and was invested in the show. he settles for telling aaron he’s a couple episodes ahead. aaron shrugs and replies that they can watch until he catches up. it’s their way of agreeing to watch it together at 4 in the morning

one wednesday, a couple months into the twins’ tentative healing, they mentions to Bee what’s been happening. and Bee smiles. she’s just happy that the twins are getting better, and striving to fix things a little.

the Upperclassmen catch up much later

probably because andrew still calls out insults his brother during practice and aaron retaliates

and yes sometimes andrew purposefully deflects balls in such a way that they hit aaron’s back or legs just to annoy him

but andrew tolerates katelyn

and aaron still doesn’t know what andrew sees in neil josten but doesn’t mind his relationship

andrew tells aaron one wednesday he hates being touched, and it doesn’t take a genius to know why. aaron has the urge to go find all of andrew’s abusers and bash their brains in like drake

aaron and andrew never really had people to care for them, so their sense of family is a little extreme, but it’s there

and it’s proof they can get better over time

they’re both in their own way protective of each other. and it’s a silent pact that anyone who hurts nicky will have to face two very pissed off blonds

movie nights at four am become a regular at the Columbia house, and sometimes (though they both have less nightmares over the years) during the week, so they get used to the extra key specifically for each other’s dorms.

one morning matt walks in and see aaron and andrew asleep on oppsoite ends of the couch while sharing a blanket, and takes a picture that he sends to everyone.

dan frames it and hangs it on the wall in the Foxhole Court (next to the one of Andrew and Neil at the airport)

the twins find out and wear practically identical “i am going to murder whoever did this” scowls

andrew thinks birthdays are a waste of time, but neil convinces him to spend time with aaron 

so andrew drags aaron to the roof after raiding the liquor cabinet and get drunk on the roof

the twins have a lot of things they never mention

it’s a maze that’s hard to navigate, but the twins know how the system works

there are things and moments and people they never bring up, and there are gestures and little things that are not worth mentioning. both twins don’t know how to really communicate with each other, and sometimes with other people

they don’t know how to express things verbally

so between them its almost and unspoken agreement that phrases like “i love you” or “i’m sorry” are meaningless and dumb. 

its one of the reasons why it’s hard to see that the twins are closer than they ever were, because they don’t communicate with words. they’re better at showing what they mean than actually saying it

they get more comfortable around each other, and by the time their senior year rolls in they make jokes (it’s hard to classify them as jokes when it mainly consists of one of the twins pointing at a random object and going  “that’s you” with a blank expression while the other scowls)

nicky’s already back in germany and as graduation comes near, both twins find that they don’t want to get away from each other

andrew who doesn’t give a shit about aaron and hates him, texts him pictures of the cats or neil being idiots every once in a while

aaron doesn’t text often, because he doesnt really know what to text

but sometimes andrew will receive a picture of an empty store shelf with a single can of soup on it and the caption “is this u?”

and its so fucking random that andrew can’t help laughing

and aaron begins sending birthday cards to andrew (andrew calls him just to say fuck off and then hangs up immediately, but aaron just smiles and keeps doing it anyway)

(and andrew does start texting aaron happy birthday when it comes around)

one christmas nicky invites both twins and their significant others to germany and andrew gets aaron one of those stupid mugs with a science joke on it

aaron scowls because he knows andrew is blatantly mocking him. he knows.

but its fine because aaron got andrew a black sweater reading “dumber twin” (he had it custom made in rainbow font)

andrew doesn’t even try to act pleasant and says fuck you to aaron’s face

after that christmas, aaron always drinks from the cup andrew got him and andrew wears aaron’s dumb sweater

(katelyn and neil sneakily take pictures and send it to each other because “they’re bonding”)

it takes a long time for the twins to really get around their issues, and they’re both still healing, but at least whatever tilda severed when she separated them is healing too

it might never be perfect, and there’s a lot of healing, and it might never be okay, and it might take them their whole life to properly heal, but the steps they take are forward, and together

and their relationship is still complicated and messy and not the best 

but theyre both trying

they both want this

[burntoutmatchstick]

Are you excited to see me, or is it hypothermia?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31498151

Slightly AU-ish - Robbe and Sander have to keep their relationship a secret because Sander has just broken up with Britt. Everyone is in college. It's cold, but Sobbe is hot. Mostly just fluff and a little bit of smut.

“Robbe Ijzermans, you are the greatest person to ever walk the planet!”

“Zoë Loockx, you are drunk.”

Zoë laughed, her breath warm against the side of his face. She pressed her lips against his cheek and then pulled back, grinning. Her mouth was stained red, from her lipstick or that neon cocktail she clutched in her hand Robbe couldn’t be sure. Probably a combination of the two. The bar’s pulsating lights were reflecting off Zoë’s pale hair as she tugged on his arm.

“C’monnnn” she whined, face close to his ear again to try and make herself heard over the thumping music. “You’re here now, just stay for one drink!” She gestured to the other side of the bar, where a group of girls were waving enthusiastically at him.

He could see Amber and Luca beckoning him over. Yasmina was there too, and she caught his gaze across the dancefloor, rolling her eyes slightly with a wry smile as Luca began a series of... animated... dance moves beside her.

Robbe groaned. He absolutely did not need another late night; he was working an early shift tomorrow and he had two assignments due the next day. He’d only stopped by the bar in the first place to drop Zoë her forgotten keys, specifically so he could avoid waking up at an ungodly hour to let her into the apartment. But now that he was here, and if he only had one drink...after all, he hadn’t hung out with the girls in ages. He was just about to give in to Zoë’s insistent pull, when Amber stepped back, allowing Robbe a view of the rest of the group. Britt was with them.

He felt something sink to the pit of his stomach, and he planted his feet more firmly against Zoë’s pull.

“Zo, Zoë, no listen - I can’t. Really, you know I’ve got work in the morning.” He laughed at her pouty sad face, gently extracting himself from her grasp.

"Fine," she huffed, wobbling backwards slightly.

He laughed. "Are you going to be okay to get back across the dancefloor, or do you want me to give you a little push?"

"Asshole," she replied, flipping him off with a big grin.

"Enjoy the rest of your night," he said, suddenly very eager to be out of the suffocating bar.

Love you! She mouthed against the loud music, moving back into the throng of people.

Robbe stood on his tiptoes, waving goodbye to the girls. He tried not to look at her, but he couldn't help it, Britt was waving at him too. He shot her a quick smile, hoping it didn't look forced, and then ducked back through the crowd. He didn't know if it was his guilty conscience talking, but he thought Britt seemed sad.

It wasn't really his fault if she was, he tried to tell himself as he pushed his way towards to door, trying to avoid sweaty armpits and overflowing drinks. She hadn't been happy in her relationship for a long time before Robbe showed up, and it had ended before anything became too serious, Robbe had made that a clear condition. But still, there was definitely some hazy timing around who had done what, and when, and Robbe had definitely known enough to know better. Hell, his guilty conscience was the whole reason he was still keeping the best thing that had ever happened to him a secret; he didn't think it was fair on Britt to shove their happiness in her face so soon after the messy breakup. And also, there was a part of him that was scared, and ashamed of that fear, because once Britt knew they were together, Robbe knew it was only a matter of time before she put two and two together herself and had some realisations about that hazy timeline of who was doing what with who, and when.

He knew they'd have to own up to it eventually, because it was getting harder and harder to keep it a secret, especially when all he wanted to do was shout from the rooftops that he was desperately, passionately, fiercely falling for Sander Driesen.

And then, almost as if Robbe had summoned him, Sander was there. Robbe actually stopped short in surprise, almost tripping over his own feet. Had he really become that obsessed with Sander that he was hallucinating? It was a possibility, but no, this time, it really was Sander leaning against a door frame, leather jacket clad, drink held lazily in one hand, devil-may-care aura radiating around him.

Robbe simply stood and stared for a moment, taking him in, admiring the way his Bowie t-shirt clung tightly to his lean frame beneath the leather jacket, the way the lights danced against his white hair, reflecting the changing colour with every beat of the music. Sander's expression was amused as he bent his head to listen to whatever his friend was saying, Robbe watched as he rolled his eyes and laughed, almost spilling the drink he was waving around. Robbe could tell from the way Sander held himself, relaxed and slouchy, that he was drunk.

Robbe had known Sander was going out with college friends tonight, and Sander knew that Robbe was working in the morning, so they'd agreed to catch up the next day. Sander hadn't seen him, and Robbe knew he could slip away unnoticed. It was the smart thing to do, especially with Britt and their other friends in the same room.

He didn't move.

He'd spent so long watching Sander in this very way, from across rooms filled with other people, with Britt, untouchable, that now that he could touch him (and God, he couldn't get enough), it was almost impossible to walk away. And then, like a magnetic force, Sander looked up, through the pulsing room full of people and music and bouncing lights, and directly into Robbe's eyes.

Robbe laughed to himself as Sander struggled to work through his surprise. Sander's brow crinkled in confusion as he registered Robbe's presence, his blond head tilting to one side, before his face exploded into a dazzling smile that shot straight to Robbe's knees, filling his stomach with butterflies. Robbe was a smitten schoolgirl, and he couldn't fucking care less.

He watched Sander lurch unsteadily from the door frame, and away from his friend, who called after him in confusion. Sander didn't seem to hear him though, or just didn't care, as he made his way determinedly, if a little wobbly, towards Robbe.

Robbe followed suit, not caring as he shoved his way past people until Sander was in front of him.

The boys stopped, taking each other in with stupid smiles plastered to both their faces, before Sander said, "you're here!" and crashed into Robbe's waiting arms. Robbe staggered back against the force of Sander's embrace, wrapping his arms tight around Sander to steady them both. Sander had his head bent into Robbe's shoulder, but Robbe could practically hear the crooked grin in his voice as Sander said "wait, am I that drunk, or are you actually here?"

Robbe laughed quietly into Sander's hair, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and the beer on his breath. "I think you might be that drunk, but I am here too. Except not for long, I have to go."

"No!" Sander whined, twisting his hands into the front of Robbe's hoodie, pulling them closer together.

Even with Sander this close, their entwined bodies forming a little bubble among the crush of people around them, Robbe was acutely aware of Britt and the girls' mere metres behind them. This was not the way anyone was meant to find out, but especially Britt.

"Sander, we can't do this here." Robbe felt his heart twang slightly as Sander pulled back and looked at him, a flicker of hurt behind his eyes.

"Wha..."

"No - I don't mean, it's just that the girls and..."

"What, I can't hear you!" Sander shouted, as a new song began, and the beat kicked in again.

Robbe laughed at the confused expression on Sander's face and jerked his head towards the door. Sander nodded, so Robbe laced their fingers together, and began the task of navigating them through the swarms of people in varying states of soberness. It felt like moving through toffee - sticky, alcoholic toffee - but finally with one last tug, Robbe pulled both he and Sander free of the clutches of the bar and out on to the street.

The cold struck him instantly, a stark contrast to inside, and he pulled Sander closer to his side as he moved them both away from the people queuing at the door to get in.

Sander shivered slightly as they came to a stop, and Robbe looped his arms around the taller boy's neck, drawing them into each other's body heat.

"Sorry, I couldn't hear myself think in there," Robbe said, finally getting a good look at Sander away from the unnatural fluorescent lights.

The first thing Robbe noticed was that Sander was even drunker than he thought. The second was how goddam gorgeous he looked anyway, his eyes slightly hooded and unfocused, his lips glistening under the streetlights as he leaned against Robbe to keep himself upright. Robbe had seen Sander in a similar state before, after they'd....

Robbe swallowed hard.

"What are you even doing here, I thought you were meant to be sleeping?" Sander said, his voice thick and deep. He twisted his hands into the front of Robbe's hoodie again, his iron grip pulling them closer.

"Zoë forgot her keys, I was just dropping them off."

"Mmm, I'm glad Zoë is forgetful," Sander said. He dropped his head, and suddenly his mouth was at Robbe's neck.

"Sander, Sander wait..." Robbe gently pulled his head back, despite every nerve in his body telling him not to.

Sander froze, and looked down at Robbe, his face going blank.

"Don't you want to kiss me?"

"Baby, no - " Robbe laughed softly, unwrapping Sander's hands from his shirt, and pulling them up to gently kiss his knuckles. "It's just that - did you know the girls are here too? With Britt?"

Robbe tried not to laugh at the confused expression on Sander's face, heightened by his drunkenness as he tried to decipher the new information.

"The girls..." Sander said slowly. "...and Britt?"

"Yes," Robbe said, annunciating carefully. "Britt. Here. Britt is here."

"Fuck," said Sander with a sigh, though he made no attempt to move.

"My thoughts exactly," Robbe agreed.

They stood in silence for a moment, staring at each other. Robbe gave Sander's compromised thoughts a chance to catch up with their current situation.

"Wellllll...." Sander said, his slow drawl drawing out the word. "She's going to find out eventually..." and with that, he tugged Robbe closer, dropping his mouth down to that fucking spot again, that spot that even drunk Sander knew could get Robbe to do just about anything.

"Sander," Robbe said, except that it came out as less of a protest and more of a moan, and Sander responded as such, his own moan vibrating against Robbe's neck as he continued to pull Robbe even more firmly into his space.

Robbe wondered whether intoxication was catching, as Sander's hands made their way down and under his hoodie, cold fingers against his waist causing him to gasp. Sander lifted his head then, swallowing Robbe's gasp into his mouth as he crashed their lips together. Robbe could taste the beer on Sander's breath as his mind began to go blank, any thought of Britt, or the cold, or the time vanishing from his mind as Sander's tongue pushed clumsy but insistent against his own.

Suddenly, a group of girls emerged from the bar, their laughter erupting into the cold night air. Robbe jerked away from Sander as if he'd been electrocuted, putting a good three feet between them in a millisecond. His eyes scanned the exiting group quickly, and he let out a tiny sigh of relief when he realised he didn't recognise any of them. It was enough to break the spell, and Sander and Robbe looked at each other, guilt written on both their faces.

"Shit," Sander breathed out, his breath clouding against the cold air. He ran his fingers through his recently tousled hair and looked down at Robbe. "On second thoughts, I really don't want her to find out this way."

"Me either," Robbe agreed quickly.

They looked at each other, the thud of music from the bar bleeding out into the quiet between them.

"I'm going to tell her soon, Robbe," Sander said, his voice suddenly quiet. "I can't keep this a secret much longer... I don't want to keep you a secret much longer..."

"I know," Robbe said, giving him a small smile.

"The world deserves to know that I have a really hot boyfriend named ROBBE IZJERMANS!"

Sander shouted Robbe's name, and Robbe tried to hush him, laughing, as the butterflies erupted in his stomach again. He didn't think he'd ever get used to hearing those words fall so easily from Sander's mouth.

They started at each other a moment longer, but neither dared to breach the physical gap again.

"You should get back to your friends, and I should get to bed," Robbe said finally.

"You're right," Sander said, but he looked so miserable about it that Robbe couldn't help but laugh.

"You looked like you were having a good time before I showed up!"

"I was, but that's only because I didn't know what I was missing!"

"We can grab lunch on my break tomorrow?" Robbe suggested hopefully, but Sander shook his head.

"I have a better idea. Why don't I walk you home?"

"Aaah, maybe because your friends might wonder where you've gone, and also, you live closer to here than I do?"

"Both of these points are irrelevant in light of the fact that you currently have an empty apartment..." Sander said, raising an eyebrow, his gaze suddenly intense.

"You know, for a drunk man you make a lot of sense."

***

"Hurry up Robbe, it's fucking freezing," Sander complained as they stood on the landing while Robbe fumbled for his keys.

In retrospect, they probably should have taken an uber. It really wasn't a long walk from the bar to his apartment but adding a drunk Sander who couldn't easily move in a straight line and freezing temperatures to the mix, and, well...they probably should have taken an uber.

Finally, Robbe flung open the door and ushered them in, flicking on lights and kicking off his shoes as he went. He fumbled with the thermostat on the wall for a moment, cranking up the temperature. It took him a second to realise that Sander hadn't moved down the hallway with him, and instead was still standing by the doorway, struggling to stay upright as he did battle with his shoes.

Robbe laughed quietly. "Need a hand?"

He didn't wait for Sander's answer, dropping down to his knees to help yank off the offending items.

"I like the view," Sander said, his voice suddenly low and deep. Robbe looked up at Sander, registering his compromised position as something struck a chord low in his stomach.

"I'm surprised you can see straight at the moment," he said, finally releasing Sander from his Doc Martens prison.

"Believe me, there's nothing straight about what I'm seeing."

Somewhat unwillingly, Robbe got up from the floor, but before he could step back, Sander pulled him in close, pressing their lips together. It was at that moment Robbe registered the slight tremor to Sander's frame, and how icy his skin was.

"Sander, you're freezing!" Robbe said accusingly.

"I know! That's why I'm trying to warm up!" Sander replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You were definitely too drunk to walk home in this weather," Robbe said, pulling Sander down the hall. "Come..."

"I'm trying to," Sander said, with a mischievous wink which Robbe steadfastly ignored.

Robbe pulled the taller boy into his bedroom, closing the door behind them, trying his best to ignore Sander's grabby hands.

"Robbe," Sander whined, his voice cracking slightly as Robbe began pulling the blankets back from his bed.

"Jacket off," Robbe commanded.

"That's more like it," Sander said, ungracefully shucking out of his leather jacket and tossing it to one side. He reached for Robbe again once it was off, but Robbe was prepared this time, and quickly wrapped Sander in a blanket. Sander laughed, wriggled, and fell, pulling them both down onto Robbe's bed.

"Hi," Robbe said with a smile, his nose pressed against Sander's cold one.

"Hi," Sander answered with a content sigh, his heavy eyes closing slightly.

"Are you closing your eyes because you're tired? Or because you're drunk? Or because you have hypothermia?" Robbe asked, suddenly slightly concerned.

Sander laughed and pulled one arm out from his blanket cocoon, wrapping it around Robbe's shoulders."I'm closing my eyes because you're so beautiful up close, it hurts to look at you."

Robbe groaned and rolled onto his back, so he was looking at the ceiling, Sander's arm now draped across his chest. "Drunk Sander unlocks corny Sander, noted."

"You love it," Sander said with a laugh, and honestly, Robbe internally agreed.

They lay in silence for a while, their breathing slowing until it was in synch. Robbe was still surprised at how the simple act of just being with someone you cared so much about, without talking or doing anything, could bring so much happiness. It was still all so new, but he really didn't think he would get tired of this, of just existing in Sander's orbit. After so much time spent resisting its pull, he was so grateful now to just bask in the force of it.

They were quiet for so long that Robbe began to think that Sander had fallen asleep. He hated the thought that he'd have to wake him up again soon, so that he could leave before Zoë got home. Not that she'd care. She'd be happy for them, in fact Robbe was pretty sure she'd already guessed, but it wasn't fair to expect someone else to keep their secret as well.

They needed to tell people, and soon. But not right this second. Right this second Robbe could just soak in the warm glow of the lean, blonde boy taking up so much space in his bed, and even more in his heart.

"What are you thinking about?" Sander asked, startling Robbe slightly.

Robbe shifted onto his side so they were facing each other. "You," he said with a smile. "Always you."

Sander smiled back at him and craned his neck forwards to press his lips against Robbe's. They were much warmer now, Robbe noted with a happy hum.

They stayed that way for a while, gently kissing, Robbe peppering small pecks all over Sander's face to warm up the cold spots. Robbe propped himself up on one elbow, leaning over Sander's chest to press kisses to his ear, his neck. Sander laughed, and Robbe felt the vibrations in his throat.

Suddenly, without warning, Sander snaked his arms up beneath Robbe's and with a skilful manoeuvre, flipped them so that Robbe was lying flat on the bed, caged beneath Sander who hovered above him.

"How's the view from up there?" He asked Sander.

"Definitely not straight," Sander said, and his mouth was on Robbe's again, except this time there was nothing gentle about it.

Sander still tasted like beer, but Robbe didn't mind, as their mouths crashed together in a jumble of lips and teeth and enthusiasm. Robbe slipped his tongue out and traced Sander's wet lips, licking away the last of the cold evening. Sander sighed deeply, his eyes closing, head rolling back to allow Robbe access to his neck. Robbe obliged, his mouth insistent against the points that he was learning drove Sander wild. Not close enough for his liking, Robbe pulled Sander down. The force of it caught Sander by surprise and he crashed against Robbe's chest, their ribs flush against each other, hips meeting in a motion that caused both boys to gasp slightly.

"You certainly seem to be warming up," Robbe said breathily, as Sander ran his hands down his chest, stopping at the hem of his shirt and pulling. There was a jumble of limbs and fabric as they both wrestled with their clothing until finally, shirts and jeans were discarded on the floor, and they were pressed together again in nothing but their boxers. Robbe's mind was blissfully empty, filled with nothing but Sander, his taste, his smell, the feeling of him growing harder beneath his hand as he palmed at the front of his boxers. Sander's fingers plucked at the waistline of Robbe's own underwear, but Robbe put a gentle hand against his wrist and pulled it away, flipping them over again so Sander was on his back.

"You're the one that needs warming up," Robbe said, by way of explanation, one of his hands dropping to Sander's upper thigh, lightly tracing the hairs that painted a line up to Robbe's goal destination.

On cue, Sander shivered, but from the way his head fell back and his eyes rolled, Robbe thought it was probably from something other than the cold. He'd been so excited, so nervous, the first few times they'd done this, so worried about making sure Sander felt good. It was amazing how fast those nerves had been replaced with complete confidence; the noises coming from deep in Sander's chest as he squirmed beneath Robbe's mouth providing all the proof Robbe needed that he was on the right track. Robbe gripped Sander's thighs as Sander wound his own hands tightly in Robbe's hair, panting and gasping Robbe's name as Robbe's pulled him deeper and deeper into his mouth, until Sander was bursting, hot and fast over Robbe, leaving no doubt in Robbe's mind that he wasn't at risk of hypothermia anymore. Robbe didn't move until he was sure Sander was done.

"Robbe,' Sander moaned, pulling him back up to kiss him, deep and slow.

Robbe leaned down into him, and Sander, no longer cold, traced down Robbe's side until he found his mark. Sander took Robbe into his hand, not breaking their kiss even as Robbe began to pant jaggedly into his mouth. It didn't take long; seeing Sander come undone always pushed Robbe right to the edge. With a groan, Robbe came, gripping Sanders shoulders tightly as Sander moaned his name.

They lay panting next to each other until their breathing slowed, taking their time to come back up for air. Once Robbe had regained the semblance of a thought, he rolled away from Sander, feeling around for something on the floor. Sander whined at the sudden absence of warmth, his hands scrabbling weakly against the mattress, grasping for Robbe's return. He did, after a moment, pulling the hastily discarded blanket up with him and throwing it carefully around Sander, making sure he was fully covered before he dropped back down next to him, kissing him softly.

"No chance of hypothermia," Robbe said, his voice slightly raspy.

Sander sighed contentedly into Robbe's shoulder. "Nope. But there's now a very real risk of heat stroke -" he paused for a moment for dramatic effect, " - get it? Because you're so damn hot."

Robbe's groan turned into a laugh. "Oh my god, you're the worst."

"You love it, though," Sander said, eyes closing gently.

"Yeah," said Robbe after a moment, voice soft, his own eyes beginning to droop. "Yeah, I do."

[onyourzeus]

12:15 am | kyh

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: 12:15am pairing: kang younghyun (youngk of day6) & you genre: fluff, small caps words: 2.4k

author’s note: extra fic for tonight, just all around fluffy bf!yonk getting a call from his drunk s/o in the middle of the night. do enjoy.

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

younghyun loves the grind. but if there’s anything else that he looks forward to during a hard and long day of working, it’s the feeling of coming home once he’s done. he makes sure to take off his shoes with as less noise as possible, knowing the fact that his roommates slash bandmates are enjoying their sleeping hours of peace and solitude. 

with just a loose shirt and boxers on, he finally feels less restricted and more comfortable in his own skin. the urge to clean himself of sweat, and polluted air that had clung on him with a nice, hot shower is tempting— but the exhaustion in his heavy shoulders and drooping eyelids convince him otherwise. 

he’ll hate himself for dirtying his sheets, but tomorrow is sunday which means it’s time to do his laundry, anyway. 

tossing his used clothes in the hamper, he prepares his body to get swallowed by the softness of his comforter, and the warm void of his thick blankets. of course, before he passes out entirely tonight, he doesn’t forget to send you a text. the one important thing he shouldn’t miss out on. 

really tired. gonna crash in 2 seconds. text you tmr, love you

usually, younghyun would wait until you respond because the many heart emojis that come his way act as his goodnight kiss while the two of you are apart. besides, you normally reply in an instant which is a habit he’s worried about, really, since you need some rest too. 

he tries to fight the sleepiness away from his senses, but the more he sits on his bed, back hunched and ready to collapse, the less energy he has left to wait for your message. he frowns, suddenly wondering about your whereabouts. you always tell him first hand if you’re too busy to check your phone throughout the day, and younghyun appreciates the thoughtfulness. even if he couldn’t reply “okay” right away, the two of you have a shared sense of understanding as to how your kind of long distance relationship works by now. 

sighing, he eventually puts his phone on the bedside table and plops himself in the covers. it feels really, really good to be in his own personal space now, and younghyun thinks he deserves to rest longer than normal tonight; it was a pretty productive day in the studio. he finished another collab with an artist he’s been meaning to contact for months, and he was glad it came to fruition with great success. he also managed to write a few arrangements for the band’s upcoming album, even if the group decided it was too early to work on it yet. 

younghyun believes it’s never too early as long as inspiration is present. if he didn’t so much as write down possible lyrics or harmonies on a piece of paper every day, he’d slowly feel his motivation being sucked out of him. if he was being honest, that was one of his worst fears as an artist, so every day is work for him, it just depends on how much he wants to get done in a day. 

as his thoughts fizzle out in his mind, his consciousness brings him to dreamland until a constant vibrating noise disrupts him from his end table. younghyun is about to pull the sheets over his head, thinking nothing of the sound but an annoying notification from something unimportant— but then he remembers you. 

with his second guess being right, younghyun has a twinge of guilt in his throat for believing you were not worth it to get up from the coziness of his bed. rubbing his eyes to seem more awake, he picks up the call and greet you in a whisper. 

“hi, baby, what’s up?” younghyun says, voice low and hoarse from multiple recordings in the studio. 

“cheese,” you mumble on the other end, voice rather solid and awake which causes younghyun to perk up a bit. 

“what was that?” 

“cheeeeese, brian,” you slur, elongating the repeated word as well as saying it in a higher pitch. immediately, younghyun senses the somewhat incoherent mumble in your nevertheless pretty voice, and judging from the fact you unironically called him by his english name, there was only one explanation: you’re drunk. 

he finds himself smiling as he answers, “are you home, babe?” he wasn’t angry about you drinking, he does remember you telling him a few days ago that you might go out with friends but you weren’t sure when. maybe tonight was the night and you just forgot to remind him; no big deal. 

“i think so?” you hiccup, followed by a soft chuckle. younghyun’s heart soars at the sound, and it pains him at the same time that he couldn’t be there to hold and take care of you. he leans against the headboard, making himself more comfortable as he listens to you ramble on. 

“all i know is that— burp— it was wendy’s birthday… or was it her cousin? cause she was there too, and i never met her before and— oh my god, i don’t even remember her name i’m such a bad new friend— whatever, anyway, it was someone’s celebration and we bar hopped to a lot of places and it became really sweaty and loud and at one point i had a flamingo shot in my hand and and—”

“hold up, flamingo? you mean flaming?” younghyun interjects, chuckling at your jumbled up story. he imagines you shaking your head as you whine at him for interrupting you. “no, nooooo. it was red and fiery and there was a lot of smoke and i’m sure it represented the beautiful, long-legged bird called flemings.”

this time, younghyun couldn’t stop himself from choking out a laugh, and in turn you huff from the other end, and refuse to continue further. 

“i’m sorry, go on. please, i’m interested with what happened after you took this mysterious shot that starts with an f.”

“are you sure you won’t laugh?” he hears you quip in a tiny, slurring voice, and it his chest tightens at the thought of making you go through this drunken state alone. younghyun cards through his hair in frustration towards himself, realizing how much he misses you in the moment. he doesn’t want you to stop talking, god if he can only see your lips move in person—

“i promise, babe. so, what happened next?”

“if you say so,” you mutter indignantly, but proceed with the story even though you’re unsure of where it’s going. “um, actually. that was it. i think i took everyone’s flamingo shots in their hands and next thing i remember, wendy or her cousin or whoever it was tucked me in bed and now i’m in the kitchen eating cheese.” 

the string of words you had uttered made younghyun feel three emotions in succession: one, impressed that you were able to down more than one shot while he’s not there to monitor you; two, relieved that you confirmed your safety inside your apartment; and three, plain confusion as to why you didn’t stay in bed and instead, eating what you say is cheese while on the call with him. 

“can we turn on the videocall?” he asks gently, and you hesitate.

“i don’t look cute right now…”

“you’re always cute. please?” he tries to sound convincing, knowing that you do get insecure when your face is flushed red from the alcohol. even still, he doesn’t tire from complimenting you otherwise. 

“okay,” you relent, and younghyun’s heart skips a beat anticipating the sight of you on his phone. he turns on his camera, and he’s appalled at what he sees: daar under eyes, no make up on, and a face that describes weariness to a T. in this case, it should be him who feels insecure looking the way he is, but he’d take the risk if it meant seeing your face. 

“hello? is this thing on??” after a few seconds of lag, your screen cleared up and younghyun watches you poke the camera repeatedly. “bri, it’s so dark in here am i even alive right now?”

you never fail to lift his mood up during an exhausting day of activities— as your schedules collide against each other, and there would be less time for moments like right now, younghyun only asks for a few texts sent his way as reassurance that you’re still with him. you always comply, and sometimes younghyun doesn’t get to uphold his side of the commitment during the rare days that he just want to shut off the world.

still, he’ll wake up from a text with your name on it, and the hearts he missed the night before. and he feels whole, and ready to take on the world again.

so this time, younghyun wants to make you feel heard— and seen, as these days work seems to occupy more of his time and burden him with the pressure of exceeding his own expectations. you don’t like seeing him worry about how he’s doing in the industry, so younghyun does his best to appear cheerful and curious in front of you— or his phone, at least.

“yes, you’re very much alive right now, babe. are you really eating cheese at this hour?” he shouldn’t have asked. it was obvious the thing in your hand was, in fact, string cheese being eaten in the most ungodly fashion, but it’s you— and younghyun would rather watch you bite into it, cringing inwardly, instead of passing out with another day longing for your presence. 

“let’s eat cheese together,” you suggest, shoving the half-bitten string cheese into the center of the camera as if it was a mic being handed over to younghyun. “do you want to eat cheese with me, bri?” you ask again, tone small but hopeful. you put your hand down, and younghyun finally has a full view of your face. 

you had taken your makeup off, judging from the bare skin and slightly smeared lipstick on the side of your lips. your hair was splayed out down your shoulders, a combination of curly and straight strands framing your beautiful face. he surmises you used a curling iron this morning, imagining the frustration on your facial features as you try to make it work. 

“briannnn, cheese?” 

younghyun focuses on the present, and he notices the glimmer in your eyes amidst the only light coming on your end was his screen’s brightness. he shakes his head slowly which causes you to pout. 

“no thank you, baby, you can have it all.” 

“but i saved some for you, right here. you get the other half. just like you’re my other half. hehe, get it?” 

“yes, baby, that’s very sweet and clever of you.”

“you should hire me as your lyrics… manager. maker? lyrics person? lyricist!” you grin widely after figuring out the right term, and take another bite off the string cheese. 

“i think you’re doing a great job at being my girlfriend, though,” younghyun tells you, and it takes a few seconds for those words to process until he hears the eventual whine, and covering of your face with your free hand. 

“babe.” no response.

“baaabe.” you mumble something he couldn’t hear. younghyun takes in how adorable you are, and doesn’t pester you for a minute. this bothers you, apparently, as you peek through your fingers and catch him doing one of his silly faces that corners you to laugh abruptly. 

“not fair!! you know that works every time,” you whine in defeat, and younghyun can only smile proudly in response. 

“you know,” you start off, and younghyun prepares himself for another stream of consciousness on your end before you continue, “even if we’re far away from each other, and that we can’t eat cheese together, you’re still the best boyfriend in the entire galaxy.” 

if there’s anything else that younghyun loves apart from the feeling of coming home after work, it’s the feeling of being loved by you. 

he waits for you to finish your string cheese, and you argue that you’d like to eat another one. but it was getting late, and younghyun didn’t want to look even more tired on call, so he urges that you two fall asleep while the call goes on. 

as he wiggles back inside the covers, he watches you struggle to get your whole body in the comfort of your blanket. his hand holds on the phone as he readies himself to sleep sideways. 

“stupid blanket,” you mutter in annoyance, deciding to take one leg out of the warm sheets and at last, feel content on your bed.”that’s better,” you sigh, eyes falling asleep before younghyun. 

“comfortable?”

“not really.”

“oh, why not?” younghyun asks. 

“you’re not here beside me.” and your answer breaks his heart. 

younghyun is pretty good at consoling you with his words at times when you need it, but you beat him to it this time. 

“it’s okay though, younghyun, i can get by like this for now. i know—” you yawn in between, “you’re working super hard for the next comeback— actually, you work no matter what project you’re doing, babe. you’re insane, i hope you know that.”

it was younghyun’s turn to blush, and hide his face in the pillow. the drowsiness is making him soft, and weak from denying the truth in your words. he can definitely agree with a lot of people in his life that he needs to take it slow some days. and when it comes from you, he then knows to take that advice seriously. 

“i do know that, baby.” 

“it’s not bad, though!!” you object, zooming in to your eyes as if to let him know you’re saying it as a good thing. younghyun chuckles again, lifting his face up so he can witness your goofy antics once more. 

“i think it’s… really badass. you go younghyun,” you yawn again, dropping the phone as sleep attempts to befall upon you. “sorry, my hand was getting numb.”

“that’s okay, go to sleep now.” 

“no, you.” 

“that’s literally what we’re trying to do, babe.” 

he hears you snicker, and with that he felt it was okay to lay his phone next to him, too. he probably wouldn’t see your face in the morning on the call anymore as his phone wasn’t fully charged at all. however, as he hears you quietly snoring on the other end gives him a sense of security, and the status of his dead phone battery doesn’t matter so much for now. 

“i love you,” he whispers into the night, eyes closing in, smile taking him to dreams where he can hold you tight.

“love you more, younghyun.”

[yikeswtfmate]

Golden // Part 1

Summary: There’s this cute guy Y/N keeps seeing on her morning run. 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: swearing; sexual references

A/N: in case anyone’s wondering - this is verbatim my train of thought when writing, before all the editing happens; enjoy this fic that came to me in a fever dream/ sleep deprivation/ stress induced delirium/ post CATFA rewatch; this is also the reason why no one should take me seriously ever

masterlist // next part

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks since Y/N moved to this side of the city, two weeks since her evening jog suddenly became her morning run, two weeks since she’s met the most gorgeous man she’s ever seen in her entire life. It’s been two weeks since she’s perfected her morning routine to the point where she now knows exactly when to tie her shoelaces on the bench next to the West gate in order to see him round the corner into the park.

It’s 5:43 am on a Wednesday morning and if anyone would’ve told her two weeks ago that there would come a time she’d wake up by choice at this ungodly hour she would’ve laughed in their face and fluffed her pillow.

It all started when Sam convinced her to meet him at 5:30 that day in exchange for helping her out with moving. He never showed up and later explained he slept during his 20 alarms because Clint insisted on a “calmer, more relaxing alarm that won’t instantly make you want to murder someone.” Hell would have followed, if it weren’t for the cute guy that passed before her eyes – a nod in her direction, eyes sparkling in the sunrise and Jesus Christ, for the love that’s all holy, this guy is a wonder. So Y/N not only forgot all about Sam’s treason, but her focus was completely diverted to that huge back that seemed to be bursting at his shirt’s seams.

5:44 and Golden Boy seems to now be hesitating for a moment when he sees her – a novelty, truly, considering his acknowledgement always only extended to a nod and a smile. Y/N is even more confused when he stops right next to her. Does she have toothpaste on her cheek? Did she forget to put on a shirt? Oh god, Y/N, whatever you did, please tell me you put on deodorant at least.

“Hi.” He says and oh fuck, if his voice doesn’t sound like melting sugar from a cotton candy.

“Hi?”

Her answer comes out more like a question, but at this point, Y/N is more panicked that this guy actually exists and isn’t just a continuous delirium caused by her sexual frustration. He smiles and wouldn’t it be funny if she actually said that out loud. Ha ha, Y/N, you dumb clown, you’re not in a rom-com, stop it. Focus.

“I can send you the link of a company that makes great running shoes.”

A few seconds pass, he’s still smiling and Y/N realises she should maybe say something and not just blink continuously at him.

“What?” She croaks, because really his offer makes no fucking sense and there are no brain cells left in her brain now that she hears him talking.

“Your shoes.” Golden Boy points to her foot on the bench, shoelaces still untied. “You always seem to be tying them when I see you.”

“Oh.” I don’t know what to tell you man, you’re on your own here. I told you you’re a dumb clown, and isn’t it great when your brain just refuses to cooperate with your mouth in order to form words? Or even say something remotely intelligent rather than – “Huh, yeah, I’ve never noticed.”

Golden Boy smiles because he knows, it’s not that hard to decipher her lingering looks or the way she’s suddenly always there when he starts his run, or even how she sometimes bites her lip when he smiles at her. He’s not dumb, he sees all of that, but he’s also wanted to be absolutely sure before making his move and to be honest, if it weren’t for Bucky’s bet, he would’ve kept staring at her legs until they would’ve both grown old without saying anything.

“I’m Steve, by the way.” He says and extends his hand which is huge, thank you very much and there’s a split second there when Y/N’s brain falls completely in the gutter.

“Y/N.” She smiles and fuck, please tell me I’m not imagining this and you really are holding my hand for far too long to be appropriate.

“Y/N.” He repeats, and he likes the taste of her name on his tongue, but he also very much likes the way she seems to be melting right there on the spot for a second. “Could I take you out for a date one of these days? I feel like 6 in the morning is maybe too early to share a bottle of wine.”

Yes, a thousand times yes. Take me here, right here on this stupid bench and anywhere you’d like, Stevie. But she only says “I’d love to.” like a well-behaved lady that her mamma supposedly raised.

“Great.” A step back and a huge grin on his face that might just split his face in half because he really does love that lip biting she’s doing but he also can’t do anything about it here without him being arrested for a) indecent exposure and/or b) indecent behaviour. “I’ll ask Sam to give me your number.”

“Sam?!” She can’t help the screech that comes out, but let’s be honest here, what the fuck?

“Yeah, he told me he knows you when I kept going on and on about you when we went out for drinks.” He winks. He winks! The audacity of this man. “I’ll pick you up at 8. I’d suggest you wear jeans.”

“Jeans? Are you taking me rock climbing or something, Steve?” Her shock is replaced by confusion yet again and Y/N wonders if this man will keep her on a rollercoaster of emotions. Did he say he knows Sam? Did he also admit he’s been talking about her for enough time that Sam picked up on exactly who she was? Did he just invite her on a date? Jeans?!?!

“Not spilling any secrets, but I’d think riding a motorcycle in a dress would be quite difficult.” He’s shouting as he’s running backwards, a wave in her direction and she’s left dumbfounded – again.

“A motorcycle? A motorcycle?!” Y/N shouts. “What do you mean a motorcycle?! Steve!” She’s more than certain he can hear her, mostly because he’s laughing at her reaction, but on the other hand, she can’t deny that her panties are already soaking just at the image of this Golden Boy on a bike. Goddammit.

[omnicenos]

The Incident at A-kon

I just regaled this tale to a friend of mine and suddenly felt like sharing, so here you go.

Did you or someone you know attend A-kon, an anime convention, in Dallas, Texas in the early 2000’s and remember or heard of an entire, very large hotel being evacuated at some ungodly hour? Did you ever wonder why? I know why. Oh how do I know. If you were there or are just curious about what happened, read on.

Okay, so I forget specifically what year it was. We went to A-kon in Dallas. Pretty big con. With great reluctance, my younger friend, Anna, was allowed by her parents to accompany me and my friend group on the condition that, of course, we watch over her. Anna is SUPER cute. This becomes an important fact shortly. 

So anyway, after a long day of cosplay and fun, we head up to our hotel room, and this group of three drunk dudes take an interest in Anna. Of course, being her temporary guardian, I went, OH HELL NO and got her away from them and safely in the room. There comes a knock at the door as I'm taking off my makeup, and I answer it. It's the goddamn frat boys, wanting to know if they can see Anna. I shut the door in their faces. They knock again. I tell them to stop or I will call security. They knock again. I don't answer. We go to bed, because it’s like 2AM. 

I am almost asleep...and the fire alarm goes off. Lights flashing, sirens blaring. We, along with several hundred other fucking people, all plod down the stairs in a huge herd (elevators are a fire no-no) and everyone waits outside sleepily to hear what's going on and wait for the fire department. Suddenly, from one of the balconies, having not evacuated, the fucking frat boys spot us and yell down, "HEY!! WE GOT YOU OUT! TAKE THAT BITCHES!"

I reported them, but went back to bed so have no idea what happened. But they weren't there in the morning, so…

Anyway, yeah, that’s what went down, in case you were curious. There are always a few bad apples in every group.

[calientecoochie]

It Happened So Fast-

•2•

“AHH”

The red giant backed up and put his hands up in the air and waved them frantically. “<Wha-hooooahh! Calm down. Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you! That’s wasn’t very manly was it. Gah, bad first impression, I guess, ha.” The redhead rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“<You’re Red Riot. The~huh~ the Red Riot>” Yes, yes you were gaping like a fish in a desert. How could a man be so tall?! He is literally towering over everybody here. What is he like 7’?! Does his bones hurt? What the hell is a Bakugo... Oh, he staring at me. How long have I been staring!

“<Uhmm>” Red Riot waves his hands in front of your face, “Helloooo, anybody, homeeeee?” His voice sounds so velvety and heroic. “<I should really work on my introductions...this happens way more often then it should. Let me write that down so I don’t forget.>” The Pro Hero stares down at you, “<I’ll give you a lift, Y/N, since you’re like in a trance. LET’S GO TO MY OFFICE! I CAN SHOW YOU PICTURES FROM MY UA DAYS AND SOME COOL AWARDS. SO MANLY!>” With that your new boss lifted you up and threw you over his broad shoulders.

He continued to talk Y/N’s ear off with you not understanding much of what Red was saying but, appreciating it either way seeing as it was helping you unwind from the earlier shock. As the pair walked through the agency, Y/N took in the place. Even though, the place is a big on inside as it was on the outside, it wasn’t as daunting as you thought it would be. The people and heroes around here are smiling and waving towards you. You were handed a balloon with a crudely drawn face (it was meant to resemble you) with a many , “おめでとう” thrown your way as you and your boss entered the elevator.

“<Here we go! Can you stand?>” Red sets you down on your feet with ease as he presses the button to his floor. He drums his fingers across the steel doors then turn towards you with one of his award winning smiles. You swear it melt the steel in these elevators, it’s so bright. “<Not going to freak out on my again are you? Y/N>” He tested your name on his tongue, “<Am I saying that right? Ah, I forgot to ask, would you prefer Japanese> or English?” He look at you thoughtfully.

“That’s right. I have not been responding have I?”

“Nope! You have not but, that’s cool. I have a great feeling about you so, I know you’ll be a strong backbone to this company!”

All you could do was stare back in a dream-like state. Look at you! Shame! Getting all star-struck and dumb even being in this man’s presence. Tsk tsk. Better keep this conversation rolling so it doesn’t get awkward. “You were right..”

“Huh, right about what?

“My name. You said it correctly. Ha, pretty funny too, I’m used to people pronouncing it wrong.”

“Well, that’s not very fair to you. It’s your name and it’s a manly name!” Red puffed through his nostrils and smirked.

You bowed you head to hide your blush, “ Thank you, Red Riot.” Why are you acting like this it is so NOT professional at. All.

Red Riot let out a boisterous laugh that you swore shook the elevator, “You don’t have to refer to me by my hero name you know? Just call me Kirishima or even Kiri. Honestly, anything is cool as long as I don’t get called sir. That makes me feel old. Red Riot is reserved for field work though.” With that he winked at you.

“Oh, then, thank you Kir-!”

D I N G

“We’re here!!” He yoinks you from the elevator into his suave office, “ Hasa De Lo Eiji!!”

You heard Sero’s voice speak up, “Casa De La, Ei, casa de la...” He sitting upside down in one of Kirishima’s office chairs surfing his phone looking through Twatter. You thought he was ignoring you until he started waving and kicking his lanky legs excitedly.

Denki was just spinning in Kirishima’s main seat, “<YOU FOUND THEM, MAN?!>”

“<Well, they wasn’t exactly hiding and don’t think there’s many people of their skin tone here in Japan, Denk...>” You only caught a bits and pieces of their conversation, making you giggle a bit.

Denki looked over to you, “Oohoo, you like that, huh? Say how about we get to know each other better? One on one? There’s this really cool place in Shinjuku I’ve been dying to try. Would love to have someone to try it with. Being alone is such a bummer~” While Denki was distracted, Kirishima took his chance and sat in his friend’s lap causing Denki to sputter and attempt to push his taller, “built like a German, concrete home” friend off of him. Shame, you were actually about to take Denki up on his offer. You did want to see what Japan had to offer and it did suck to be alone sometimes.

The day continued as you four began to talk about you, their hero work, the past and, what was in store for the upcoming week. Soon, Denki and Sero left to attended to their own business (they went to Shinjuku), which just left you and Kirishima. You though it would it be awkward, however, it strangely felt like home. This was different from what your country’s media always portrayed of him: Hardy, cold and relentless. Even though that’s what drew you to him, this Kirishima was a nice change of pace as well.

“Hey, hey, Y/N you’re staring again.” The redhead smiled.

“Didn’t mean to, Kirishima. It’s just that you’re so different in real life! I hope you don’t mind me saying but, though you were this boulder of destruction.”

“Not too disappointing, I hope.” He leans his head in his hand, laughing a tiny bit.

“No! Of course not!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking!”

You both just laugh and it dies downs leaving a comfortable silence betwixt you again.

“Well, you got the job for sure!”

“Really t—that’s it?!”

“Yup”

“No strenuous questions?”

“Nope”

“No previous references or written letters from previous employers?”

“Nnurp” he audibly pop his lips to add emphasis to his negatory.

“No-“

“Do you want the job?”

“Of course! It’s just that yo-“

“Then you have it. I have a good feeling about you! I learned to trust my instincts. Obviously, yours brought here to freaking Japan-“

“Well, my friend sent me the email...”

“YOU put in for it and YOU got it. Enjoy it :)”

You rubbed your chin in thought. Starting to overthink the situation and your new way too laidback boss. Was this a mistake? Did I make a good call? As if he could read you mind, Kiri laid his firm hand upon your shoulder, “Let’s get some grub! I can take you home afterwards!”

With that, you’re new life began and with each day you grew more confident in your choices. You learned so many new tips and tricks, learned about and met new people (some more despicable then others), it was like a dream come true. First, you needed Kiri told hold your hand at the beginning, which made you doubt yourself from time to time. However, you got better and faster, already your talent to the max.

The only thing you hated doing the most were the public conferences. They always asked the same questions hoping for different answers or asked about way too personal questions about the heroes within Kirishima’s agency. Questions that would make the man on moon blush. However, you always seemed to Beyoncé your way out of their scandalous questions and steer it right back to where you wanted it.

Of course, your work never went unnoticed or unappreciated. The agency always made sure to make feel wanted and needed. Hah, Bakugo even came in and tried to recruit you for his own agency, in front of your boss. It’s all just been so crazy. It’s almost insane to think it’s almost been a year here. You even remember your old life. To think, you thought the email was a joke. What would I be doing if I never answered it... No point on dwelling on it you guess.

You hear heavy footsteps coming toward your door.

*Clink Click*

“Hmm, I thought these lights shut off automatically... strange” It was your boss! “Let me flu-Oh! Oh, you’re still here?! Y/N , it’s practically morning right now. Why are you still working?”

“You wouldn’t know I was still here if you weren’t here yourself so, Red, what’s your excuse?” You looked up at him playfully smug.

You don’t remember if he’s been flushed from rushing into the office or for his new nickname but, he looked away and swore he tripped on his words when he spoke. “Other than it being my agency, Y/N so, MY responsibility, I like to go for early morning runs. You could probs just call it conditioning from school days. It helps keep my mind from overthinking I guess.

“Overthinking? About what?”

“Heh, what not about” There was a strange unplaceable tone in his voice. He said that sentence barely above a whisper but, you caught it. Kirishima look back towards you and beams. Is he- is he putting up a mask?! Not wanting to strain your work relationship you choose not to press him on the matter. Turning back to your desktop to continue your work until Kiri blocked it. Damn his thick man body!

“Could you please move,Kirishima.”

“Nuh-uh, not until you tell me why you’re still up here working at this ungodly hour.”

You leaned into your seat giving up on trying to move him, you sigh and then smile to yourself not sure if he could see it or not, “ Fine, I’ll spill. I work this late because I love this job. Nowhere else has given me this opportunity and I’m so thankful. I’ve felt so lost for the longest and about gave up on myself. I work this late because I love my friend, they were the ones who even let this opportunity land in my lap even though, they could have easily taken this job. They had more experience. I love my coworkers. Ha, I’ve never been so overwhelmed by support by so many strangers. It’s really emotional and I would hate to let them down. I do all of this because I love and appreciate you, Red... you’ve always stayed by my side and gave encouragement when I needed. Lacking in my work would be like spitting in your face and I would hate for that to happen...”

You keep your eyes shut for a few more seconds soaking in what you just said. It’s been eating at you forever. You’ve long forgotten about how Kiri was like a barnacle stuck to screen and I guess he did as well, seeing as was standing up straight, mouth opening and closing and fiddling with his hands. You look up at him, “That’s why I’m here. You don’t have to worry over me. I’m not a child. Plus, I got YOU and your HERO amigos/amigas on speed dial.” Sero’s been trying to teach you Spanish 💀, it is not working.

“...Do you mean that? You love me?”

“Of course I do, Red.” Kirishima drawn closer to Y/N, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just thought it would be too soon to make a call..”

“I love you , Kirishima...”

“Y-you could call me, Eij-“

“As much as I love Sero and Denki! You all mean so much to me!”

You noted that Kirishima seemed to deflate at your next sentence and even took a step back, “Red, you okay? Need water?”

Kiri shook his head, “N-No I guess I’m just coming down from my runners high! Ha, it always makes me a bit woozy y’know.”

“Oh~”

“Yeahhhh. Welp! Just dont Forget it’s your day off tomorrow okay. No coming in! No matter how much you //luhhhh// us.” That was weird. Luh? ,”Oh I also have a question. The hero gala is coming up soon and we have to bring a +1. Would you like to come with me? I’ll cover your clothes~!”

“The Hero Gala?? Are you sure wouldn’t you want to bring another, I don’t know, hero?”

“Well, I could but, I asked you. You were my first choice either way. If it’ll help you could think about it like good PR.”

As you always do, you think about it. Unlike the other times, your mind was already made up.

“Yes, Red, I would love to go.”

[angelguk]

the one where jeongguk is in love with your voice (and also kind of in love with you). barista!jeongguk and busker!oc meeting for the first time. this was meant to be the intro for a fic but....life happens :/ still! it’s fun and jaykay is in love !! 3.3k words. listen to i want to be with you by chloe moriondo :3

The first time Jeon Jeongguk saw you he swore his heart stopped. It was early autumn and the sun was beating down on the tired pavement you’d paused at. He'd taken an impromptu break during the few moments it had taken you to set up and get your guitar out of its case. At first, he didn’t notice anything, too preoccupied with the game lighting up his phone screen to pay attention to the serene streets outside.

Then he heard your voice.

It wafted through the open windows and stained the atmosphere in the café, mingling with the scent of bitter coffee and burnt saccharine sugar. It took him a moment to register that the sound wasn’t coming from the speakers Seokjin had installed roughly a month ago but rather from the person standing outside in the late afternoon sun. The sound was coming from you.

He got up slowly, oblivious of the inquisitive gaze Seokjin was giving him and ambled to the glass French windows that allowed customers a full view of the cobblestone pavements outside the café. It also served the purpose of giving Jeongguk full view of you.

There was a claret scarf swathed around your neck. It was the first thing he noticed. You’d lazily tossed it over your shoulders in an attempt to combat the cool breeze that accompanied the autumn sun. The colour highlighted your skin, leaving you glowing underneath the afternoon sky. The guitar captured his attention next; it looked loved, stickers and small scruffs against the warm chestnut wood made it evident that that instrument had been in your hands countless times. That wasn’t difficult to confirm because your fingers deftly skipped over the strings with ease, pressing and strumming out notes that flowed into your euphonious voice.

It caught him by surprise, how much he liked the sound of you singing. But what drew Jeongguk in was the pure look of bliss that was painted across your features, a lazy smile gracing your lips as you sang out the lyrics of some song Jeongguk had never heard but he was going to look up in a moment.

He didn’t know how long he stood by the window watching you. Seokjin didn’t call his name when his break was over and time seemed to pass by in an instant yet it felt like it had been dragged out. He only resurfaced from his reverie when you stopped strumming your guitar. By then a small crowd had gathered and he couldn’t make out your face anymore but he heard the sound of your laughter skipping through the air as clear as the ringing of a bell. You sounded so thrilled, chatting away with some people who had the courage to walk up to you and compliment your talents. Maybe he should too — after his shift ends anyway.

(Unbeknown to him his shift had ended ten minutes ago but he still was stagnant at the window, watching you flit about with a grin on your face).

But then you were packing up and sauntering away and Jeongguk felt his heart twang as if he was one of the strings of your guitar. He had no idea if you would come back to the same spot again — he’d never even seen your face before. If only he’d gone out and said something, or just stood in the crowd and applauded.

But there was no point in dwelling on it so he ripped off his black apron in the staff room and bid Seokjin goodbye. His feet were heavy as he walked home and he kept glancing around, a sliver of hope that maybe you’d moved on to busk in a different but nearby location.

He didn’t find you despite aimlessly roaming around for an extra thirty minutes.

The next afternoon he found himself a place in front of the windows, gaze focused on the street across the café, a slight buzz in his veins because he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you. The urge to see you again was driving him slightly mad and his co-workers could sense that because Namjoon and Jimin had vanished behind the counters. Seokjin didn’t say anything about his unusual behaviour.

He sat there, expectant, but you never come. This reiterated itself for the next few days until he abandoned the routine and reverted to his usual break schedule; he found his old spot in the back of the café and bent himself over his phone screen once more.

And then you came back a week later, a different scarf tangled around your neck (purple this time – or at least that’s what he could discern) and your beloved guitar in hand. Jeongguk found himself at the windows again, staring at your figure with an odd warmth blooming in his chest. You hadn’t missed a single Saturday since and Jeongguk had never been able to approach you either.

↯

Winter's around the corner, glaring by the fading ochre leaves tumbling from branches above. They form a golden carpet on the ground, the trees above left bare and exposed to the bitter winter wind. In general, Jeongguk favoured the feeling of sunlight against his skin — bright emerald leaves over sepia tones — which is why he abhorred this season. And yet he couldn’t help himself from staring out the window, the world falling into a cold slumber before his eyes. But the wonders of winter weren’t the reason Jeon Jeongguk was leaning against the windows of The Container, the café he worked at. He didn’t give a damn about winter; he was too preoccupied watching the girl across the street.

There’s a chill in the air, evident by the stiffness in your fingers as they strum the guitar in your grip. Why you hadn’t worn a thicker jacket was lost to him. Everyone knew how brutal the winters down here could get. Yet there you were, in a flimsy piece of fabric that didn’t hold the chill away, gingerly plucking at the chords of your guitar. For some reason, the sight of you enduring the cold and singing with a smile on your face made something warm kindle in his heart.

“If you keep standing like that you’re going to dent your face into the glass,” Namjoon comments, a cloth in his hands as he wipes the coffee tables  — a task Jeongguk was meant to be doing.

“Just dent the glass? Hyung, Jeongguk turned into a statue months ago. Don’t forget to dust him down, we don’t want our most prized decoration covered in cobwebs,” Jimin adds on, fingers swiftly drying up porcelain cups and saucers.

“Shut up,” Jeongguk retorts, snatching up his cloth and tearing himself away from the view before him. “I haven’t seen her in a while. She skipped the last couple of weekends, remember?”

“I’m sorry but I don’t have her schedule in my head, lover boy,” Jimin says, attempting to balance ten saucers and four cups in his hands, which was only going to end in a calamity of splintered glass and a tomato red Seokjin.  

“That’s not an excuse to stare at her like a psychopath through the window,” Namjoon interjects, kicking in a stray chair as he purposefully misses the glare Jeongguk shoots in his direction. “Jimin put those cups down before you break something. Seokjin will dock that shit from your paycheck and you still owe me five dollars.” His gaze flickers back to Jeongguk who was only half-heartedly cleaning up the café, “Are you ever going to talk to her? I bet she’s wondering who is the ugly guy who keeps staring at her.”

“I will! I’m just taking some time—"

“Time to do what?” Jimin had somehow successfully transferred everything in his grasp back into the cupboard, a triumphant grin on his face. “Your dick is going to shrivel up if you don’t get laid soon. And as far as I know, she's the only girl who has your attention.”

“Jimin has a point. I’m tired of hearing the terrible porn you watch at three am. Like come on, their moans are clearly fake and you still blast that shit.”

“I’ll turn it down when you clean after yourself. How many times have I picked up your dirty underwear from the couch?” Jeongguk snaps back.

“Disgusting. You’re both heathens. This is why I can’t live with you,” Jimin says, nose crinkled up as he dumps another set of dirty dishes into the sink.

“Glad to see my employees are hard at work.” No one had noticed Seokjin amble in and lean against the wall. “Jeongguk has a point, Joon. I can’t keep picking up your dirty laundry, you’re twenty-four not five,” he raises a hand to halt the torrent of words that threatened to spill from both Jeongguk’s and Namjoon’s mouths. “I wasn’t done. Namjoon also has a point, the shit your watch at ungodly hours is loud and disgusting and you need to make a move eventually. This whole stalker thing is starting to creep out customers.”

“Are you concerned about your business or me as a person?” Jeongguk questions, walking over to the sink to wring out his cloth.

“My business. Obviously.”

Jimin's muffled laughter fills the room as he flicks water in Jeongguk’s direction. “Some of us actually care and the last time you stuck your dick in anything was seven months ago. Which is mildly concerning.”

“I don’t need to constantly have sex like you Jimin.”

“You say that but I bet you’d kill to have the sex life I have.”

“STI’s have not and never will be desirable, hyung.”

“Shut it. Even if I dared you to, you wouldn’t have the guts to approach her.” He raises an eyebrow in challenge, baiting Jeongguk magnificently.

“Fuck you, I can and will approach her. Eventually.” He turns away from the sink, abandoning the cloth, a broom in his grasp as he saunters back to the window. You're still singing away to a small gaggle of people, the wind whipping at your skin. You really should have worn a thicker jacket. Maybe he should bring you something to drink? But do you even like coffee? Or were you a tea person?

“She’s probably a college student. By default all college students are required to like coffee whether they want to or not,” Namjoon interjects.

“Wait was I talking out loud?” He can feel the heat of mortification filling his face.

“This is why I need you to get laid,” Jimin remarks.

“I need you to shut up.”

"Jeongguk if I were you I'd go out there right now and give her a cup of coffee. In fact, I dare you to. I'll do the rest of the dishes for the semester if you do it." Namjoon’s arms are crossed over his broad chest, eyes staring Jeongguk down audaciously. The look in his eyes is telling like he knows Jeongguk would rather set himself on fire than talk to you. And he isn’t wrong.

“Jeongguk move, right now,” Seokjin hastily intervenes. “Shoo! He’s offering to wash the dishes! Grow a pair and get out the door right now!”

Seokjin’s right. The three of them abhorred washing the dishes (which was why Jimin was at the sink while they swept and dusted the café). So this was a perfect offer. He knew he should just take it because Namjoon didn’t do shit in the house anyway but he couldn’t help but feel apprehensive, a steady dampness forming in his palms. What if you found the gesture weird? What if you found him weird? What if his actions would make you run away from the café and then Jeongguk would never be able to see you again?

“Hyung...” His uneasiness was evident in his tone, whine sounding exactly like a wounded puppy.

“Knew you couldn’t do it.” Namjoon plucks up his cloth once more. “This really isn’t healthy though. She’s not some mythical creature, Jeongguk, she’s a person and people talk to each other.”

“I’m sorry are you declining Namjoon’s offer?” Seokjin looks as if he wants to snatch the broom from Jeongguk’s grasp and smack it against his skull. “Jeon Jeongguk you are putting your job at stake.”

“You can’t fire me for that! That’s unfair dismissal!”

“I’ll fire you for whatever.” Seokjin shifts towards the machines behind the counter, briefly cleaning his hands underneath the running sink. “I’m going to make you a latte and you’re going to leave this place and give it to her. Namjoon is offering to clean for God’s sake!”

Seokjin doesn’t pay attention to Jeongguk’s protests, swiftly fiddling with the machines as they whirr to life. “Here.” His outstretched hand held a steaming cup of coffee. “Are you going to take it or are we going to stay here all day?”

Jeongguk pauses, acutely aware of the tense atmosphere fusing with the scent of coffee beans and cream.  He doesn’t have to do it; he could just take the coffee and drink it himself. But then the sound of your voice comes drifting in through the open windows and his chest closes up. You’re singing louder for some reason, almost as if you were calling him to come. In all honesty, Jeongguk had to get over his fear of you. Namjoon’s right — you aren’t some mythical creature — you’re just a person like he was. And even if the small (read really big) crush he had over you felt paralysing at times it was better to say he tried then to admit he never did anything at all.

With a wave of sudden sureness rushing through his body he grabs the cup from Seokjin’s outstretched hand and twists around, blatantly ignoring the slow clap Jimin starts up or the shock filling Namjoon’s eyes.

His feet hit the pavement with a resounding thud, one that he feels in his chest but he keeps on walking. The closer he gets the more he feels like the world is slowing down. By now the crowd had dispersed, only one or two people stood around lingering. That’s reasonable because the sun had dipped further into the horizon, dwindling golden rays of sunlight illuminating the pavements. An instant later, he’s standing before you holding the cup of coffee in his hands. It’s then he realises just how stupid he probably looks. It suddenly hits that he’s got no idea if you were lactose intolerant or whether you preferred soy or oat or almond or how sweet you liked your coffee or whether you liked coffee at all and then you were looking at him and he didn't know what to say.

He tries to open his mouth but he can’t grasp at the words he needs. The strumming of your guitar slows down, a curious sparkle in your eyes as you look at the boy before you who’s turning bright rose with every passing second.

Jeongguk immediately goes on autopilot, shoving the cup in your direction. “Um, here, coffee. It’s cold.”

“The coffee? Sorry but I think I’ll pass on iced coffee,” you reply, shooting him a soft smile. “Thank you though.”

“Uh — no. The coffee isn’t cold, the weather is cold. I just thought that maybe you’d want something warm to drink?” Jeongguk wants the ground to open up below him.

The corners of your lip tug upward, eyes flickering over Jeongguk’s body. He refuses to look directly at you but he can feel the warmth of your gaze as you examine him. This is a stupid idea and he was going to kick Seokjin in the balls when he gets back inside. But instead of hearing a rejection floating from your lips, your voice urges his eyes up from the ground with wonder. “Sure, why not,” you say, an easiness in your tone. The coffee cup is out of his hand before he can blink.

He feels something in him shift violently when a smile breaks across your face.

The slamming of his heart against his ribs is nothing compared to the pounding in his head because holy shit your smile was the best thing he’d ever seen. Your face just lights up, the grin on your lips just as dazzling as the bright afternoon sun behind you. It felt as if there’s a hand around his heart squeezing it tight, leaving him breathlessly in love.

“Before I drink this,” you say, fiddling with the cup in your hand. “How do I know it’s not been tampered with?”

He flushes, taken back by your valid direct question. The sentence that leaves his lips is jumbled, a result of his nerves getting the best of him. “Uh — I  —well — um, I work over there,” he gestures to the establishment behind him, ears tinging rouge when his gaze lands on Seokjin standing menacingly behind the window. “My boss made it for you — well not for you, but kind of? I could have made you one too but he did — for no particular reason of course.”

Your laugh is light and airy, wrapping around his heart with a gentleness that leaves him woozy.

“Okay, I believe you.” You take a ginger sip of the coffee, still brightly gazing at him. “Thank you. This is so sweet of you. And a latte too, that's my favourite. Good guess.”

Jeongguk is never going to hit or insult Kim Seokjin again. His words still feel clunky falling out his mouth but he can't stop them from escaping.“You’re welcome! Thought I would bring you something you know. It’s really cold and you’re kind of the reason why we get so many customers.”

The eyebrow you raise is playful. “So you’re paying me with free coffees now? Not a bad move.”  

He rubs the nape of his neck, a sheepish smile on his face. “Got to keep the free advertisement happy, right?”

You laugh again and Jeongguk feels his world rearrange. In a second he’s buzzing, the warmth of your voice rushing through his body and leaving his nerves humming. Your smile was starting to have an adverse effect on Jeongguk’s heart. It might have stopped functioning properly a moment or so ago.

“I appreciate the gesture. Tell your boss thank you for me.”

Jeongguk splutters, eyes soft as he looks at you. “Actually, if you want to come in I could fix you something else as well. On the house! You can meet my boss as well.”

You pause, pretty lip caught between your teeth in thought. He thinks you might say yes. Needs you to say yes more than he’s needed anything else in his life. But then your eyes flicker to the well-worn leather watch strapped around your wrist, gaze crestfallen the second you register the time.

“I can’t today, unfortunately! Got to hurry somewhere right now.” He watches you pack up your guitar, the swiftness in your movements stabbing at his infatuated heart, the coffee he’d handed you sitting lonesome on the ground. You stuff the loose change scattered within your guitar case in your pocket before delicately placing the instrument in there. It only hits him then that he never once tossed something in there as a show of gratitude to you for filling the world with your mellifluous voice. His empty hands suddenly felt useless beside him, swinging forlornly in the winter breeze. He wants to help you, but he’s afraid he’s encroached enough already. “Thank you again. Maybe I'll drop by one day,” you say, smile bright and warm. He commits the image of you looking at him like that to memory, treasuring it deep inside of his heart.

“Yeah, sure. No problem." He doesn't want you to leave, but he can’t think of a way to make you stay.

Then you're gone, coffee clutched in your hand as you melt into the hordes of people roaming through town. Your claret scarf is the last he sees of you before he registers that he never asked for your name.

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

3:42 am

summary: it’s three forty-two in the morning, but there’s no chance of you falling asleep without Anthony.

warnings: angst

word count: 1.5k

note from the writer: I came up with this idea one night, rolled over to check the time, and that’s how I decided on the time. also, if it wasn't obvious, I picked Tito for the fic.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Not with you both so calm. Not when things had felt so good just a month ago. 

It was like things just fell out of place between you and Anthony. For most of your relationship with him, you always had time for each other, and you worked around crazy schedules. But now it was like nothing seemed to click between you and him. You didn't know how to fix it, but it was painful to sit by and watch the greatest relationship you've ever had crumble. 

So it wasn't really a surprise when one night at your apartment things finally fell apart. 

It almost would've been better if he yelled, because then you could yell back and say the relationship ended with an argument. But no, Anthony was too good of a man to get upset with you when nothing really had gone wrong. It just, stopped working between the two of you. 

“I’ll always love you.” He whispered, dropping kiss to the top of your head and holding you in his arms like he hadn't just told you that he couldn’t do your relationship anymore, that it wasn't working. “Don’t forget that, ever.” 

And with that, he dried your tears and kissed you one last time before leaving.

That had been three weeks ago, but it felt like years. You had managed to avoid texting Anthony, but you hadn't cut him completely out of your life. It was a special form of torture, how you stilled curled up in bed and watched the Islanders play, even staying up late when they played on the west coast. Your friends tried to convince you that it wasn’t a good idea, but it hurt too much to completely cut him out of your life. You had stopped crying every night, so you took that as a sign that things were getting better.

But now as you stood in your favorite cafe, you could feel everything that you had been working on dissolve. It wasn't Anthony that was in line behind you, but it might as well have been. 

Mat slid up beside you, tacking his order onto yours and handing over his card before you could even object. You offered him a weak smile, not even waiting for him to follow you as you sat in an open booth while they made your drinks. 

“How have you been?” He asked after a moment of you silently picking at your sleeve. You shrugged, gaze casted heavily down on your hands. You heard Mat sigh at your lack of response, nudging your leg with his foot to get you to look up at him. “Listen, you’re my friend, too. Whatever happened between you and Beau, we’re still good.” You sighed a breath of relief you hadn't known you were holding in, and nodded as Mat smiled reassuringly at you.

“How... how is he doing?” You forced the question out, though you weren't really sure you wanted to know the answer. Didn’t think that you could handle hearing that Anthony was moving on, doing better than you were.

“Not good, but he'd kill me if I told you that.” Mat said honestly, catching you off guard. It was then that your order was called, and you followed him to the counter. He grabbed your drink, holding it just out of arms reach so you were forced to meet his gaze and listen to him. “Promise me, that if you’re up to it, you’ll talk to him? You guys still care for each other, and if anyone can make it work, it’s you two.”

And you nodded, because that was about all the answer you could muster up.

You blamed Mat’s words for why you couldn't sleep. It was four days after you had seen Mat and nearly a whole month since you had split with Anthony. The last thing both boys had said to you were ringing in your ears—how Anthony said he would always love you and Mat claiming he wasn’t okay.

You rolled over for what felt like the hundredth time that night. You had tried everything to fall asleep, changing pajamas, removing pillows, adding pillows, counting to a hundred—nothing worked, and you had a sneaking suspicion why. It was the same reason you hadn’t slept in a month. 

You picked your phone up off of your nightstand, squinting into at the blinding brightness of your screen. 

Three fourty-two am. 

It was ungodly early in the morning, but this wasn't the first time you had been awake as a result of being unable to sleep. Mat’s words were bouncing back and forth in your mind, and before you really even knew it you had Anthony’s contact pulled up. 

You kicked yourself for following the Islanders’ schedule so closely, but you knew the boys were getting back from a road trip to Dallas, and from what you remembered from when you were together, their flight would’ve landed an hour ago. Anthony would probably be up, if you were lucky, and that was all it took for you to dial his number. 

Your lip was caught between you teeth as you rolled onto your back, phone tucked to your ear as you stared into the darkness of your room. You considered hanging up, texting him saying you misdialed so he wouldn't ask want you needed later, but just as you built up the nerve to do it he picked up.

“Hey, is everything alright?” You could hear the exhaustion in his voice, but what stood out more was the concern. You let out a shaky breath you hadn't realized you had been holding in, not expecting just how good it would feel to hear his voice again. Anthony called your name softly, bringing you back into the moment. “Talk to me, please.”

“I’m... I’m okay.” You settled on saying, because even though you felt the furthest from okay. But you didn’t want Anthony to freak out, you had heard him moving things around on his end of the line, only stilling once you spoke. 

“So...?” He trailed off and you sat up in bed, not exactly sure what you thought the outcome of this conversation would be. Anthony seemed to pick up on your frustration, and continued on talking. “I just got back home from an away game, don't know if you’ve been watching.”

“I always watch.” The admission fell past your lips without your permission, it was just something about the way he sounded so sad at the idea of you not keeping up with his games. A silence fell over you, and you felt a wave of bravery wash over you. “I can’t sleep.”

“Come over.” It wasn’t a question, and he said it so easily you were slipping out of bed to pull on sweats and just to torture yourself that much extra—one of Anthony’s sweatshirts he had left at your place. You hung up shortly after telling him you were on your way, and he told you to stay safe. 

Time seemed to pass quicker as you headed to the familiar apartment. Your leg bounced anxiously as you stood in front of his door, trying to get the nerve to knock. Your stomach was churning, knowing that Anthony was just on the other side of the door, so close yet so far. Once you did decide to knock, the door swung open before you could even lower your fist. 

For a moment, you and Anthony just studied each other, taking in the exhausted appearance on both of your faces. Hair a mess from running his fingers through it due to anticipation of your arrival, shoulders tensed, and dark bags under his eyes that told you he had been just as affected by the breakup as you. He was wearing his glasses, looking like the softest person in the world, and you couldn’t help but launch yourself into his arms without even saying anything. 

It was scary, how comfortable and at home it felt to be in his arms once more. You worried that this would be a one-time thing and you’d have to go home to your empty apartment and learn to live with out. But, something in the way he was clinging to you like he’d never let go again had you thinking that maybe things would be okay.

“We can talk in the morning, okay? Let’s just go to bed.” Anthony finally spoke, pressing kisses to the top of your head. Despite his words, he made no effort to pull away from you, and you certainly weren't going to move away first.

“I just, don't want to lose you. I can’t handle you walking out again.” You confessed, voice just barely above a whisper as you felt tears stream down your face. Anthony pulled away just enough to cup your face in both hands, thumbs brushing over the wetness on your cheeks. You were gripping his shirt tightly, the fabric bunched up in your hands in an effort to convince yourself that he was really here, back in your arms. He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, only separating to rest his forehead against yours and assure you with his next words.

“You have me, and I don't plan on leaving anytime soon.” 

[moth-song-archives]

The Insatiable Flow of Time (1/8)

I remembered that I can make posts here too huh! Anyways, I wrote a post-MAG200 fic <3

I’ll reblog it again with the link to ao3 if you’d prefer reading it there :D

Rating: Teens and Up Archive Warnings: Choose Not To Use Categories: F/F Relationships: Georgie/Melanie, Georgie & Jon, Jonmartin (mentioned) Characters: Georgie Barker, Melanie King, Jonathan Sims, the Admiral, Basira Hussain (mentioned), Rosie Zampano (mentioned), Martin Blackwood (mentioned)

Additional tags: Diary/Journal × post mag200 × Post-Canon × Canon Compliant × Rated for swearing and me doing my best to write a fitting epilogue for my most fave story of all time × Bittersweet × Hurt/Comfort × Grief/Mourning × Gentle-Sad-Soft × Fluff × Non-Sexual Intimacy × Tenderness × Generally Hopeful Ending × Ambiguous/Open Ending × Catharsis × You know how TMA is a tragedy? ... yeah × Hope Punk × dealing with the fallout of surviving a literal apocalypse × Moving on and letting go × Trans Georgie Barker × Nonbinary Melanie King × Melanie uses any pronouns but needs to (re)discover this first × and is then mainly referred to with they/them pronouns for diary-simplicity × Melanie is ace in my heart ♡ × Jon is also enby but it only gets referred to in passing × Georgie has a Type™ × Character Study × i love them all so much × Nonbinary aspec author × it's very hope punk and somft BUT ALSO VERY SAD × in like a cathartic way × because i like causing pain :') × pre-written and updates every 2-3 days

I think I might use it to… rediscover myself. That’s what I liked about journaling in the first place, I think. Getting to think about things outside of my own head, putting it out there so I could move on? Maybe it’s time to return to old coping mechanisms and try again. Even if I haven’t really changed. Even if I should’ve changed. Right?

As the world tries to piece itself back together, Georgie grapples with her past, her present, and her future by keeping a diary. She also keeps having this strange, recurring dream that involves Jon. Post MAG200.

Finished at ~12k, will upload over the next couple of days <3

Day 3 - Evening

Melanie is sleeping. Basira is also sleeping, on the sofa in the living-room. She doesn’t really know what to do with herself, these days, so for now she’s staying with us.

I am not sleeping. I’m so far beyond tired that I can’t sleep anymore. It’s been... how long? More than a day, certainly. I’m at the kitchen table and the night outside is darker than any I’ve ever seen. There are no street lights and a million more stars than I could’ve ever imagined. I wish Melanie could see them too :(

Back before everything in my life went wrong, I used to be really good at this. I think I got my first diary when I was... seven, maybe eight? I used to be obsessed with it. I guess I stopped writing in college, after the incident, because it felt... wrong? Like I was lying to myself, trying to fabricate emotions that just weren’t there, keeping up with things that no longer seemed important or note-worthy. Mainly, I couldn’t make myself care about anyone or anything anymore.

I think I want to find that person again, now that it’s over. Try and… move on? And Melanie encouraged me :) I guess that’s the main reason. I found this notebook in one of the domains when we were rescuing people. I don’t know what I originally wanted to do with it, but I did end up forgetting about it until I went through my bag again today. It smells like fire and is a bit singed in places, but I kind of like that? I think I might use it to… rediscover myself. ...that sounds very pretentious, but this is just for me, so...

And I like that it’s just cheap paper scribbled on with a shitty biro. Maybe I’ll just burn it when all the thoughts are on the paper instead of in my head. When I can sleep again. And the prize for the most dramatic way of closure goes to Georgie Barker! But yeah. That’s what I liked about journaling in the first place, I think. Getting to think about things outside of my own head, putting it out there so I could move on? Maybe it’s time to return to old coping mechanisms and try again. Even if I haven’t really changed. Even if I should’ve changed. Right?

But I don’t feel any different. Shouldn’t I feel different, now that they’re gone? The entities, I mean, though Jon and Martin seem to be gone, too.

I keep remembering Martin’s expression when he told us to go early, how upset he was.

Honestly, I can’t say I’m surprised. As long as I’ve known Jon, he’s always done what he thought best. It used to drive me up the walls, but I also admired it, I think? I never would’ve told him that, but… Well. He’s gone now.

It’s over, all of it.

And I still can’t sleep.

And Melanie is still blind, and I still feel empty, and my fear still hasn’t come back. Everyone who died is still dead, and the trauma is still there. There were angry mobs in the streets, and people got killed.

I can’t quite believe that Jon and Martin went with them. I can’t believe they left us behind to explain the entire mess.

 We’re back in our old flat. It’s so weird to be back home. Everything looks the same, as though no time passed at all. Nobody knows what date it is. How long were we caught in there?

Outside, it feels like spring. There are birds everywhere, singing their hearts out. Sounds like more birds than there used to be, too. The trees are leafless and dead-looking, but Basira pointed out that they’re getting there... and it feels like spring.

I haven’t slept properly in 3 days because the questions keep me awake. It’s not that I’m worrying, really, just… thinking? I think I could sleep better if the worry had come back, but it hasn’t.

As far as we can tell, all modern devices are broken, too. Computers and phones and such, digital cameras, generators... we don’t even know what the rest of the world looks like. I hadn’t realised how much gets controlled by computers these days, we don’t even have central heating or water access in our flat. Rumours and news are spreading person-to-person, like in the Olden Days. We only have emergency systems that were installed in case of nation-wide blackout. I guess I’m glad we don’t actually have a blackout, we just need to get the computers back to work. (If I understood it correctly.)

Melanie thinks it’ll all come back to life in a few more days. I certainly hope so. I also hope I’ll stop feeling like this. Or rather, not feeling like anything. It’s so strange. Like in the first days after the incident, when I just felt numb?

They’re gone! I want to feel like a person again! What if I never get myself back?

 They’re actually gone.

 What will we do with our lives now? Basira isn’t the only one who feels uprooted. I think the whole world feels like that right now.

I hope my computer comes back soon. I miss music, and making things. My photos, all those memories.

I don’t want to lose all of that. I want to start fresh, but not without records of the past.

…I’ve had a lot of time to think about that, specifically. Records, and futures.

What the Ghost is done, right? There’s no fun in creepy ghost stories if you’ve been through an actual, living nightmare.

I think I want to start new with that, too. When everything works again, that is.

New world, new future, new podcast. I like that. I think. Make a record of what happened through eyewitness accounts? Or is that too similar to the Statements… then again, it’ll be more like interviews. And I think we shouldn’t forget.

We owe them that much.

I’ll have to talk it over with Melanie tomorrow. Maybe.

We’ll see.

God, I think maybe… maybe I can actually try and sleep tonight. Writing does seem to help.

 Note to self: thank Laverne for suggesting it. (Also for being there for Melanie. And listening to us. And stopping with that culty nonsense. She’s the only one we found so far, but she actually listened to us. Strange to think that in this world, I have to be grateful for someone not worshipping me for some dumb reason?!)

   Day 4 - Morning

So. Three things.

1) I did manage to fall asleep after all! I’ve always been a bit of an insomniac, especially after the incident, so actually getting some proper rest felt really good.

2) I somehow woke up right as the sun went up! I think I’ve never seen a dawn this beautiful? I watched it from the bedroom window and I’ll definitely describe it to her in detail when she wakes up! The Admiral was sleeping on our pillow, right next to her head, snuggled up against the back of her neck and shoulder... it was so cute. I can’t believe my phone and camera still don’t work! Melanie has that old polaroid camera somewhere but we haven’t found it yet, and I wish my art skills were any better. I did draw a sketch of the two of them though. I’ll cherish it forever, no matter how shitty it is :’)

After everything that happened, the Admiral is still a bit weird around us. He started out really aggressive, calmed down a bit, and now… now he’s weirdly skittish? Meows a lot. Keeps walking around the flat. The only thing that even remotely returns him to how he used to be is tuna. It’s weird.

But seeing him like that, with Melanie? I love him so much.

I think he’ll be okay.

But before I forget, and why I actually got out the diary at this ungodly hour instead of trying to go back to sleep now that the sun is up���

3) I had a really nice dream. And... I don’t even know. I think I want to try and hold onto the feeling? I don’t think I’ve felt that… deeply… in a long while. Maybe the last time was before all this, when we decided to move in together. Before all of this happened.

For a moment, I felt like I was whole again :’)

It didn’t even have Melanie in it, which is very rude tbh. I think Jon was there? The Admiral, too. We were just chilling on the sofa, watching netflix I think... It felt so... mundane??? Casual, somehow??? Like it was normal to feel like that and I just... I want THAT. I want to feel like that again, instead of this weird… blank nothingness? I want that all the time, not just when I’m riding a high or feeling so terrible that it pierces through.

I don’t know if that makes sense but this is just for me anyway so I suppose it doesn’t have to.

 I think I should feel bad about Jon being gone, but I still don’t even feel relief at it being over. Just this vague numbness.

I hate it so much, except I don’t, actually, I just know that I should?

Melanie keeps saying that I need a therapist but if we’re being honest here, I guess I need one the least? The whole goddamn world needs therapy right now. Including the therapists. And I’ve been dealing with this for a long time now.

I guess I keep hoping it’ll just go away somehow.

 Anyways. Enough introspection, I’m going back to bed. I hope I don’t wake them! :)

  Day 4 - Evening

 It’s night now, the sun went down hours ago. We have a bunch of candles, but I’m trying to use them sparingly, so I just have one lit. I put a glass of water next to the candle so now the light gets magnified a bit more. It’s a weird atmosphere, but I kinda like it? Feels… cozy! :)

I’m still not over how everything looks the same, but nothing works like it did before, and there’s this… burden? This collective trauma everyone went through. It feels so surreal. So many things are still broken… it’s like we woke from a collective nightmare, but pieces of it still remain, floating around.

And we just sent it away with the tapes. I really hope those other worlds are doing better than us, but what else could we have done? I… try not to think about it. I know I should, but I still can’t really bring myself to care, or even feel overly guilty for that? …

 Melanie fell asleep with her head in my lap half an hour ago. I was reading to her. She says she loves the sound of my voice, so I’ve started doing that in the evenings. (I still love that we had separate crushes from a distance on each other for ages because of youtube and WTG. We’ve been talking about that a lot, too.)

She still has nightmares, but apparently she’s also been having good dreams, and she looks so peaceful right now. The last few days have been a lot, but in comparison to before, and even before then…

It’s over. We made it out. We get to have a future together. I still can’t quite believe it. :)

 I guess I’m writing again (despite already having done so in the morning) because it somehow helped yesterday and I’m hoping to replicate that. And I have a lot to think about. It’s been a long day.

Basira is still out there, helping out where she can. I think she feels guilty. Melanie says she doesn’t because there was no other choice, but I know her, and I know that she’s lying.

There’s always another choice. We just say that to make it easier to bear.

I hope she knows she can come talk to me when she feels ready to tackle it.

I hope I ever feel able to tackle it myself. No. I will talk to her when I’m ready.

We did talk a bit about things, of course. Melanie doesn’t really remember her dreams, most of the time, but apparently she’s been alternating between horrifying nightmares and a really nice, recurring one that sometimes happens after the nightmares. She doesn’t really remember much of it, but she mentioned it after I told her about the Jon dream. Not what it was about, just… in general.

From the way she talked about it, I think her dad might have been in it? I’m actually not sure, but the way she smiled…

She has that little smile on her lips again, even now, dreaming. The soft one she gets when she talks about good things. About him.

About me.

(I still can’t believe she chose me. How impossibly lucky? How did I ever deserve her? But then, it’s not about that, is it? She is mine, and I am hers, and… life will be good. I know it will be.)

 She’s been smiling a lot more, these past few days.

[moonscarsandstars]

reference for welsh

here you go @sirrriusblack (it was way too long at this point, don’t ask me why), but I finished it! also idea credits go to her too.

~~~

"What the hell?!"

The heavy sound of rain that came from outside the door- where James was standing- almost muffled his voice. Sirius blinked, his expression blank, and his bright, beaming smile faltered in confusion.

"You heard me, didn't you? I'm going to learn Welsh," he said, as if it was the most normal thing.

"I'm really not sure if I heard you well," deadpanned James, brushing a hand through his soaking wet hair. He rubbed his shoes on the welcome mat of Sirius and Remus’s flat, and leaned a little closer as the thunderstorm outside raged heavily.

"Oh shut up," quipped Sirius, propping his elbow up onto the door frame next to him. "I'm going to do it."

"First of all, this was your midnight emergency?! I came all this way to help you learn Welsh?!"

“How was I supposed to learn it without you? I wouldn’t last five minutes, now, would I?”

James seemed to ponder that for a moment. Then shook his head in agreement. “Good point. Can I come in now?”

“Oh, right,” said Sirius bemusedly, moving out the way as James shuffled inside hastily. He flicked his wand, and his raincoat was off him in a second and on the hanger at the side. He shook his head quickly, letting water splatter all over Sirius, who yelped loudly.

“Shit- he’s upstairs,” whispered Sirius, almost dramatically. “He’s not allowed to know.”

“Why?”

“Whisper!”

“Why?” Whispered James, a small, familiar grin on his face. “A prank?”

“You wish,” quirked Sirius. “It’s going to be a surprise.”

“Moony’d be darn surprised that you managed to learn anything,” said James with a chuckle.

“Oh shut up,” retorted Sirius, a feign frown on his face as his voice returned to normal. “You and McGonagall both know that I am a star pupil.”

“The only thing star about you is your name, Pads, shut up.”

“How dare-”

But James cut him off before he could finish his sentence. ”Why are you learning Welsh? Really?”

Sirius gave a defensive look, before sighing. “Y’know how we’re meeting his parents tomorrow? Well, I wanted to impress them, ‘nd...”

“That’s adorable, Pads, gee, I didn’t think you had it in you,” cooed James, though a certain part of it was genuine. “You really have it bad for him, huh?”

“Oh, do I,” mumbled Sirius, his voice heavier than he wanted it to be.

~~~

An hour, four cups of hot chocolate, almost waking Remus up and lot of procrastination later, the two of them got to work at around three thirty in the morning.

“So I bought this book to help-”

“You can read?”

Sirius shot a glare at James before continuing. “It’s supposed to teach me the basic phrases and daily communes.”

“Daily whats?”

“Uh- um- that’s not the point! The point is, I should be able to frame at least one sentence to impress them.”

“Padfoot, mate, you can’t even phrase a proper sentence in English. How d’you suppose you’re going to do this?”

“Effort, Prongsie, not that you’d know.”

James opened his mouth, but Sirius continued with a smirk on his face.

“So the first phrase is- uh- um- Prongs, how d’you pronounce this?”

Lifting the book, Sirius pointed his finger at the words on the page.

SU’MAE

“Uh, you’re on your own there, Pads, I have no idea.”

“Soo- may? That- I- what?”

“Isn’t it soo-mye?”

“But-” started Sirius, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Actually- is it?”

“Ask Moony, he’d know.”

“The reason I called you at this ungodly hour is to make sure Moony doesn’t find out!”

James smirked. “You won’t last without him.”

Ignoring James, and trying to fight back James’s contagious smile, Sirius continued. “It means ’hello’.”

“Mkay, what’s next?”

“I- I think the next one is- uh-” Sirius pointed at the page again, and James tilted his head over to read it.  

SUT DACH CHI?

“It means ‘how are you’, and it’s the formal version. I use the formal version with his parents, right?

“Yeah,” responded James, looking back to the word. “How d’you pronounce it though?”

“Is it soot or sut?”

“Soot, I think. Right?”

“I don’t know...?”

“Let’s make it sut, how ‘bout that?”

“That works,” said Sirius, studying the paper hard. “S- sut duk chee?”

“That’s way too British. It has one of those-” he made a throaty, hoarse noise- “-for that part, don’t they?”

“What?”

Sirius blinked, his expression extremely confused. James laughed loudly, making the corners of Sirius’s lips twitch up.

“Oh come on, we have to be serious- no don’t you da-”

“YOU’RE ALWAYS SIRIUS!”

Cringing, as James burst into a fit of giggles, Sirius gently slammed his head against the book on the table. 

“Prongs, is that you?” 

The familiar voice from the other room scared Sirius. Hastily, he threw the book halfway across the room, and got it to rush under the sofa with a flick of his wand. He stuffed his wand into his hair, only to realise it was out, and threw it away from him.

Just in time, as Remus appeared tiredly in front of them.

“What’s happening?” Mumbled Remus, rubbing his eyes. 

The suspicious glint- the one he’d used as a prefect in Hogwarts- was still sharp in his voice.

“I- nothing- I- James came to drop this-” Sirius hastily picked up a pen “- this off, he- I left it at his,” stuttered out Sirius, trying to put on a smile. 

Remus didn’t look the least convinced. “I’m not thick. What’s he really doing here?”

“I- um-”

“I came to help Sirius-”

“He came to help me-”

“We- we were-”

“Practicing!”

“Yeah! Practicing- uh- practicing-”

“The salsa?”

“What the-”

Eyes wide and lips tight, Remus’s eyes darted between the two of them, before he burst out in laughter, louder than Sirius expected. But he couldn’t help the smile that came with watching Remus chortle, and before he knew it, he was laughing along too.

“Honestly, I don’t find that hard to believe,” he said, bemusedly with a grin on his face.

“Heh, yeah,” trailed off James with a smile and a chuckle that was oh-so-obviously fake. Sirius pursed his lips at him.

“I’m turning in. You two-” he waved his hand vaguely “-carry on whatever it was you were doing.”

~~~

Rubbing his eyes, Sirius tiredly propped himself up on his elbows, squinting as the light in the room blinded him. For a split second, last night was merely a haze, before it all came back to him.

As well as the inevitable meeting of Remus’s parents.

Fear and some form of dread hit Sirius like a brick. His chest seemed to tighten, and any knowledge of Welsh that’d been drilled into his head by a bemusedly irritated James seemed blurry. What if it didn’t go as planned? What if it was too much? What if-

“Hey Pads? You awake already?”

Meeting Remus’s gaze, Sirius’s nerves settled. It was going to be okay. That was, until they raised at Remus’s shirtless torso.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, smiling as he stretched his arms away from him, yawning slightly.

“You ready?”

That smile. The way the corners of Remus’s lips tugged up to the left, and wrinkled just a little. Sirius could spend years staring at it.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” replied Sirius sleepily.

“What were you doing with Prongs? Last night?” Remus slumped down onto the bed next to Sirius, pulling his jumper on.

“Nothing, Moons,” drawled Sirius lazily, pulling Remus into a long, deep kiss. His hands travelled up Remus’s jumped, and his hazy mind focused on Remus’s smooth skin.

“As much as I love this,” started Remus, breaking away. “And trust me I do,” he added hastily. “We need to get ready. My dad’s setting up the portkey for nine.”

“Nine?”

“Yeah. He was always an early bird,” said Remus with a small chuckle.

“Too early,” whined Sirius. “Even for me.”

“Don’t you want to impress him?” Asked Remus bemusedly, with a small, almost challenging smirk.

“Maybe I have some other tricks up my sleeve,” quipped Sirius, staring Remus in the eyes with an equally challenging smirk.

Remus raised an eyebrow, before getting up and heading towards the bathroom. “’M taking a quick shower, yeah?”

“M’kay,” mumbled Sirius, dozing back off into his pillow.

The next time Sirius woke up, it was to Remus frantically shouting at him. At first, the words made no sense, until they did.

“Are you seriously not awake yet? Oh come on! At least put something decent on if you aren’t going to- are you awake?! Oh come on, you’re supposed to be the early bird here, aren’t you?!”

“SHIT! ‘M awake! I’m awake, sorry Moons,” mumbled Sirius, eyes growing wide and trying to pull off his shirt. He attempted to grab something from the closet nearest. Pulling the shirt he’d planned to wear, Sirius rushed to the bathroom.

Ten messy minutes later, Sirius was sitting with a frown, as Remus smiled sadistically.

“You could’ve told me he’d postponed it.”

“Watching you panic was so much more fun,” said Remus with an infuriating grin, chuckles bubbling in his voice.

“Oh come on!”

“You forget who really planned the banana cups prank, don’t you?”

“Moons, we’ll forever be in your debt,” said Sirius solemnly, though the small grin tugged at his lips as his mind swept back to the memory. 

“Wait,” started Remus, his eyebrows creasing as he picked up the tattered cap from the seat next to them. “I think it’s now.”

Sirius felt his stomach clutch. It was really happening. Now.

“I- I-” started Sirius, unable to get words out. Some sort of nervousness travelled through his veins. But a giddy type of nervousness; the type people got before  roller coasters and quidditch matches. 

“It’s going to be okay,” said Remus with that smile of his. 

And before he knew it, a pull behind his bellybutton twisted through his body, giving him a sick feeling as he was being pulled through the air. With a large thud, he landed on the paved driveway of the Lupin residence.

This was it he thought with a small, less mischievous grin.

Intertwining his fingers between Remus’s, Sirius squeezed his hand softly, and nervously tapped his fingers against the other’s knuckles. 

They walked up the path, both nervous, even if in different ways.

A soft knock on the doors revealed Hope Lupin. Her brown hair fell in soft, straight bangs falling above her eyes, and fell down past her shoulders. A kind smile occupied her face, and soft, blushed skin wrinkled at the corners of her eyes.

“Welcome home, cariad! Collais i chi gymaint, sut wyt ti?” She turned to Sirius before continuing. “Sirius! You must be his boyfriend,” she said with a wink. “I’ve heard a lot about you!

“Ma!”

“Come in, come in,” she said, lovingly.

The two of them shuffled in, Remus red in the face and Sirius smiling shyly.

“Hello boys!” Came a gruff, warm voice. Lyall embraced Sirius in a small hug, and engulfed Remus in a bigger one, ruffling his curly hair. “You’re his- his partner, huh?”

Sirius could hear the way Lyall’s voice faltered just a little, but decided to stay calm. After all, they were all trying.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” said Remus, his voice calm.

“Neither would we, cyw, we love you,” said his mother, in a loving voice that seemed far from fake, settling Sirius’s nerves.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Exclaimed Sirius, almost forgetting last night. “Soo ’may! Sut dach chi?”

Hope’s confused expression melted into an endearing smile as she responded with a small chuckle. “Rwy'n gwneud yn dda iawn, diolch, beth amdanoch chi?”

“Uhh...” trailed off Sirius, meeting Remus’s amused gaze- though the love in his eyes was something Sirius would learn the entire language to see. “E-wawn, dioh-l-k yn fawr e-wan!”

Hope burst into warm-hearted chuckles, and trailed a finger over Sirius’s cheek lovingly. “You’ve really hit a jackpot, huh cariad?”

“Ma!”

But both their eyes looked at Sirius with the same love and affection Sirius had craved all these years. He couldn’t help his cheeks growing red, and the smile that grew on his lips.

“I didn’t actually know about this,” admitted Remus, sneaking a little kiss on his cheek. “He surprised the both of us, didn’t he?”

“I promise you, Prongs and I weren’t learning the salsa last night,” drawled Sirius, unable to keep the happiness out of his voice.

“You- I-” stuttered Remus, eyes growing wide. He kissed Sirius passionately for a second, and both of them forgot where they were, before hastily breaking apart and blushing profusely under Hope and Lyall’s gaze.

“Oh cariad...”

“He really loves you, son, doesn’t he?”

Lyall’s voice was thick, and something about him was less stiff.

“I love him too,” said Remus, snatching a quick look that lasted forever at Sirius, who was smiling, eyes glassy.