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nuttynutcycle · 4 years ago

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I just discovered your blog, and I'm in LOVE with your writing! I'm completely obsessed with Familiar, so if it's not to much to ask, could you write a continuation? Thank you so much, your snippets and prompts are greatly appreciated!!

Familiar - Pt 2

First part here

On a scale of one to ten, this was either a -2 or a 12 on the good idea scale. Hero double-checked the address Villain had sent her before looking back at the tiny house. The paint was peeling, steps were rotting and that roof was definitely of the leaking sort. Somehow, she had expected Villain to live on the rich side of town.

When he had invited her over to work on their assignment, her thoughts had been torn between screaming trap and find some evidence. The second side won. If there wasn’t anything in there to prove who Villain really was… Well, she’d have to find another way of getting proof to show the authorities. She knocked and noted the cracked windows to her side. After a few seconds, Villain opened the door.

“Hey, I’m glad you could make it. Come on in.” He led her down the musty hall towards a suspiciously normal bedroom. “Thanks again for making the trek all the way over here. My mom hasn’t been doing too well recently, and I’m trying not to leave her alone for too long.”

“Of course, I get it.” Hero let her eyes trail over the spartan room. The only furniture was a bed and two chairs beside a fold-up table covered with books and scribblers. Funny, the number of times Villain escaped from her with stolen cash made her think he’d at least have better furniture. Or a safe to put the money in. Maybe it was hiding in the closet? Although in this neighbourhood, keeping money lying around might not be the brightest idea. “It’s good that you’re taking care of her.”

He nodded, avoiding her gaze and moving his stuff from the table to the floor. “Hopefully, this next surgery will be the one that works.”

“Yeah, it’s tough watching people you love go through painful things. My sister has a heart problem right now, and it’s terrifying to watch her energy come and go.” Shut up! Stop telling him personal things. “Yeah.” She finished lamely.

Their gazes locked in understanding. Hero was the first to break away. “Ready to start the pain?”

They worked on the assignment in silence for a while. Honestly, there was probably a special punishment designed for whoever invented assignments over ten pages long. This just wasn’t fair. Hero sat back, running a hand through her hair. “I think this is karma's way of punishing me for not reading the textbook.”

His lips quirked. “There’s a textbook for this class? That would’ve been helpful to know at the start of the semester.”

“Want to know how tired I was at the beginning of the semester? I can’t even remember choosing my classes,” she pulled a hand down her face. “I think I just closed my eyes and pointed at the screen.”

“You could have been in differential calculus. Or worse, accounting.”

“Or Phys Ed. Did you know our university has a course devoted to badminton?”

Villain laughed. “What a racket. To think, I could have spent time swinging my arm around and gotten credit for it.”

“But then you’d be missing out on the glories of this assignment.”

“And a friend.”

Oh nope. Big nope. Wait, Hero reconsidered. Were they friends? They did chat after class and had studied a few times together, but that didn’t mean- wait. Huh. Time to deflect with awkward humour and process these feelings later. “I thought you saw me as a role model, but that’s cool too. I’ll just have to find a new lackey.”

“And here I thought you were friends with me for my brilliance and good looks.”

She felt her cheeks begin to burn. “Yep, it’s all for your looks. If you seduce our professor, then we don’t have to do this assignment anymore.”

Villain rubbed his chin. “I’ve never seduced a professor before. Would I have to wear a sweater vest?”

“And a tweed jacket. It’s the only way.” Her fingers twitched, and she was suddenly very aware of him. The light hitting his hair, the way his lips curled when he was amused… Bad, very bad. This is your official ABORT MISSION alert. Find some evidence on the dangerous criminal and get out of there. She cleared her throat. “I’m parched. Could I get some water?”

Villain nodded, standing and leaving the room. Hero leapt out of the chair the moment the door shut behind him. Her eyes latched on the only place one could hide anything in the sparse room - the closet. She yanked it open, feeling her heart speed up at the sound of Villain opening a cupboard in the kitchen and turning on the tap.

The closet was small and impressively dull. Clothes and boxes littered the tiny shelves, with no signs of the files or weapons she was looking for. A flap of a familiar fabric dangling from one of the top boxes caught her eye. Bingo. Hero gingerly reached to feel the consistency, making sure she wasn’t wrong before bringing the authorities in, and accidentally bumped an elbow against the side of the closet. The box plummeted from its precarious placement and met the ground with a thump. No! She scrambled to pick up the box and the spilled-out uniform when a movement behind made her pause.

Villain stood in the doorway, hand clenched around a glass of water. His eyes darted to the clothes on the ground. “What are you doing?” he asked quietly.

Hero’s throat went dry. She tightened her grip on the clothes and tried to look surprised. “S-something fell in your closet, so I opened it to check what it was.”

“Huh,” Villain said. “That’s unfortunate.”

He knelt, gently taking his outfit from her hands and placing it back in the box. “You weren’t supposed to see this.”

“Clearly.” Hero swallowed and prepared to run if he attacked. Worst case scenario, she had beat him before and could do it again. Theoretically. “I didn’t mean to-“

“I know.” A familiar calculation crept across his face, making her hands shake. Villain sat across from her and blocked the only exit, placing the cup of water between them. She felt trapped against the closet.

“You know, if this had happened a month ago, I would have killed you without a second thought,” he said mildly. “Guess you’re lucky.”

A horrifying reminder that she was not dealing with her awkward classmate anymore. “What are you going to do instead?”

Villain shrugged, seeming far too calm for the situation. “I don’t know yet. Talk, I guess?”

“I won’t tell anyone.” Hero said, lying through her teeth.

“Unfortunately, I’m too old to believe the promises of others so easily.” He trailed his fingers through the thin carpet, tracing patterns through the material. “Even yours. The stakes are just too high.”

“What’s even worth all the stealing and destruction?” she asked quietly. “Why do you do it? “

The fingers paused. “It started out as one job. My mom needed treatment, and we didn’t have the money to pay for it. Then one treatment turned into two.” He shook his head. “Before I knew it, I was on the city’s most-wanted list.”

Her shoulders tensed. “Will you stop when the treatments are finished?”

“There have been other benefits to criminal activity.” Villain ducked his head, cheeks turning pink. “Lots of amazing people to meet. I haven’t decided yet.”

She leaned against the wall beside the closet, feeling safer with something solid against her back. “I don’t know if meeting people through crime is worth a lifetime in jail.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “You’d be surprised.”

Hero picked up the forgotten water sitting between them and drank, if nothing else than for the excuse to avoid responding.

His fingers trailed larger patterns in the carpet. “I never wanted you to find out- this is one of the first friendships I’ve made since I started university. I don’t want to lose that. And I don’t want you getting hurt, but this does put me in a tight position. I won’t let you inform the authorities.”

Hero pressed her back further against the wall.

Villain took one look at her wide eyes and softened his tone. “Just don’t tell. If I get one inkling that you’re about to turn me in, then..." he sighed. "Please don’t make me choose between you and my mom.”

He would know it was her. Hero didn’t think she could after this. Or fight him, knowing it was for his mom’s medical bills. She pursed her lips, making a highly regrettable split-second decision. “Alright. But only on one condition: you stop once her treatments are done.”

He twitched. “I told you, I haven’t decided yet-”

“I’m making the decision for you.” She tried to sound more confident than she felt. "Deals are much easier to trust than promises.”

“No. I’d miss-” Villain stopped, clenching his jaw. “I can’t let certain people from that life go yet.”

Something clicked. The girl he liked was from his criminal life… Oh gosh, Hero probably knew her. The brunette villain from the southside? The redheaded weapons supplier? Stop getting distracted.

“I trust you. Give it up as soon as you can.” The words slipped out before she could stop them. “For me.” That was even worse. Was it possible to die from a foot in your mouth?

Villain relaxed his shoulders. “Yeah. It’s a deal.” He stuck out a hand and Hero grasped it, shaking firmly and ignoring the sinking feeling in her chest. So like, a 5 on the good idea scale.

@revrevrew-personal @spruceandpine @sailor-cat2 @literally-just-kirby @emerqlds @chaoticgoodandu @notsocharmingmagician @flying-paperboat @touchedbyanerdyotaku

#my writing #writing #hero #villain #creative writing #hero x villain #heroes and villains #hero villain snippet #snippet #my snippet #sorry for the long wait guys!#two idiots in love #if i was Hero I'd tell Villain's mom

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ghstandpucks · 4 years ago

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Nothin’ Like You ~ Cale Makar

In honor of reaching over 200 followers, here is a song fic based on Dan and Shay’s Nothin’ Like You. I have a few requests in my inbox that I will be working on. If you have any, feel free to send them in using this prompt! Thank you for 200!!!

Master List

I remember when I first met you Sipping coffee in a corner booth You were twirling your hair And I just had to stare For a minute or two

Cale was with Tyson and J.T. after practice one Wednesday afternoon. The three of them decided to stop and get some coffee as it was a cold winter day outside. They were waiting in line talking about something E.J. had said earlier that day when Cale’s eyes landed on you in the back corner by a window. You had a cup of coffee and were staring at your laptop, completely oblivious to the world around you. He couldn’t help but stare as you wound and un-wound a strand of hair around your finger, every so often stopping to type something. Tyson kept talking as J.T. realized their defenseman was completely distracted by something. Following his line of sight, he chuckled. “See something you like? Or someone?” he chirped his teammate. Cale started to turn red as he looked away from you.

“I thought maybe I knew her,” he muttered. Tyson had stopped his monologue and was paying attention also now. He looked over as you had your head buried in a book, slowly typing something out.

“How did she carry all those books?” he asked with a slight laugh. Cale had noticed the numerous books you had scattered around the table. Didn’t people just do their research online now? “You like studious girls Makar?” Tyson elbowed him.

I was laughing at your stack of books Then you shot me that smile Hey beautiful girl, in your own little world Let me in it

“Man shut up,” Cale said turning on his friend. Unknowingly to them though, you had actually heard all the commotion. It was why you enjoyed doing your research in coffee shops; the garbled noises made it easier for you to concentrate. This doesn’t mean that you had heard what they said exactly, but who could really miss three hockey players walking into a small coffee shop in the middle of the week.

You looked up right as Cale was glancing back over at you. As you locked eyes, you sent him a shy smile and looked back down, trying to focus on your work again. Of course you knew who they were, all of Denver practically did. You were just an overstressed grad student with too many deadlines coming up though; he was probably just looking around the place.

The three of them ordered their coffees, and Cale noticed that you had looked sadly at your cup after taking a sip. He walked up to the counter and got the attention of the barista. “What did that girl in the corner order?” he asked, and was told it was a caramel latte. “I’ll take one of those too,” Cale said, paying for a second coffee. J.T. gave Tyson a look before he could say anything as they watched Cale walk over to you with two coffee cups.

You got all of my attention And you ain't even trying Yeah, you're my kind of different And I never seen nothin'

Nothin' like you

“Um hi. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought you could use this,” Cale said, announcing his presence at your table. You looked up, slightly startled as you had been engrossed in a thought you had while typing out your research. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckled nervously.

“No, you’re fine! Sorry, I had a train of thought going,” you sputtered out just as nervous as him. “Thank you, that’s very kind. What do I owe you?” you asked, instinctively reaching for your wallet. Cale shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said, trying to think of what the guys on the team might say in this situation. “Your number maybe?” he made a face like he couldn’t believe he just said that, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Um, sure, yeah,” you squeaked out, writing your number on a piece of notebook paper and ripping it out to give to him. “I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself.

“Cale,” he said, taking the paper from you. He was about to ask what you were doing when Tyson called out to him.

“Makar, are you coming?” Cale turned toward his friends who had big, goofy grins on their faces watching the interaction. You blushed slightly at the thought of others watching you.

“I’m sorry. I’ll text you,” he stuttered out, putting your number into his pocket. You smiled softly at him and nodded.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you said and he smiled at you.

“My pleasure.”

Shades on spinning in a summer rain Dancing when there ain’t no music Just the right kind of crazy, baby

Cale had texted you like he said he would that same evening. You honestly weren’t expecting it, but felt completely giddy when you saw the unknown number and read his message. He explained that he would be gone on a road trip with the Avs for the next week, but would like to take you to dinner when he got back. You accepted and plans were made; the two of you talking regularly throughout the week getting to know each other better.

The Avs returned home on Thursday, and a few hours later Cale was at your apartment knocking on your door. He had brought you flowers and you couldn’t help but smile at the kind gesture. The two of you made your way to dinner, talking the whole time. He had just finished telling you a funny story from the trip, beaming at the giggle he had enticed from you when your food arrived. As you looked down at your plate, you started moving your head and shoulders in an excited fashion. “Are you dancing?” Cale questioned you with a chuckle. You stopped immediately.

“Oh my gosh, sorry. I tend to have a happy dance with food. It’s a weird family thing. I don’t even realize I do it until it’s pointed out to me,” you rambled on, face turning red. Cale shook his head.

“Don’t be sorry. I though it was cute,” he said in a low tone. You smiled and giggled nervously; Cale deciding then and there that he wanted to continue seeing that smile for as long as you would let him.

Something about you Rocking that rock 'n roll t-shirt Whole party dressed up But you just doin’ your thing Ain't nobody ever seen nothin' like you

You were working on your research the following Friday night, having the game on in the background. Cale had taken you out to dinner once more since your first date, and the two of you had been nonstop texting. The Avs had won, Cale scoring that night. After the game you were about to text him a ‘congratulations’ when your phone started to ring, the caller ID showing it was him. “Congratulations!” you said as you answered and heard him chuckle on the other end of the line.

“Thanks Y/N. Hey, what are you doing tonight?” he asked, and you heard a few wolf whistles behind him with muttered ‘shut ups’ coming from the defenseman.

“I’ve just been working on my research since I got out of class earlier. Why?” you asked, trying not to laugh.

“Come out with us. We’re all going out to celebrate,” he said in a more hushed tone, and you could imagine him trying to avoid the whole locker room from hearing.

“Cale, I would love to but I’m not dressed to go out,” you said.

“Who cares. Please? I would like you to come,” he pleaded with you ever so slightly. You looked down at your outfit, deciding it wouldn’t take much to put on some jeans quickly. Your Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt didn’t look terrible at least.

“Text me the address,” you said into the phone, and you could hear the excitement in Cale’s voice as he said he would.

When you're wearing them worn out jeans Purple untied shoestrings You're a light in the dark And you're stealing my heart like a gypsy

Showing up to the bar, you became a little self-conscious. Maybe you should have changed? The second Cale spotted you though, he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the room. The front of your band tee was tucked into your ripped black jeans, your white converse showing years of wear as they were no longer exactly white and the shoelaces were frayed at the ends. Cale knew you were probably stressed with your research, and yet you still had the softest smile and a sparkle in your eyes when you found him in the crowd. “You made it,” he whispered into your hair as he hugged you close. He felt you giggle into his chest.

“Couldn’t let you down,” you answered simply. Cale smiled at you and took your hand, leading you over to a table where some of the team was sitting.

“Coffee shop girl!” A slightly tipsy Tyson shouted.

“Oh my God,” Cale muttered as you giggled. You were introduced to everyone as you took a seat between Cale and someone he called Gravy.

“So what is your research on?” Gabriel Landeskog asked when you said you were a grad student at the University of Denver.

“The archaeology of Zoroastrianism,” you said, and caught many blank stares.

“Zoro what?” Andre asked.

“It’s an ancient Persian religion. Today’s modern practices of Christianity, Islam, and Judaism all have common ties to it,” you briefly explained.

“Wait, that was the religion Freddie Mercury practiced,” Sam Girard commented, looking interested. You nodded.

“That’s how most people have heard of it now,” you responded.

“What is your research trying to say about it?” he asked.

“So I’m basically writing a big literature review to make sure it is preserved in the archaeological record. It was the first dualistic religion in a time where civilizations had their pantheons to believe in. It spread with the Persian conquest, but no one they conquered was ever forced to convert to it. Now it’s a rare religion to come across, and their numbers keep getting smaller. With it being one of the oldest organized religions, it needs to be preserved and the traditions documented before we lose it all through modernization attempts.” To you, your explanation was simple and one that you had said many times whenever asked what you were studying. It seemed you had impressed the table though, and you slightly blushed as a few questions started flying your way. You didn’t notice Cale softly smiling at you while you talked about a topic that you loved so much; he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. His teammates noticed though, and boy were they going to give it to him at practice.

I love the way that you kiss me In front of everybody So baby come and kiss me They ain't ever seen nothin'

Nothin' like you

The following day at practice, the guys were giving Cale crap for how head over heels he seemed for you. The fact he hadn’t kissed you yet was another source of ridicule. Everyone who had met you ended up adoring you within the time span that you spent with them at the bar; and they could easily see that their defenseman was taken by you as his cheeks would turn red at the mention of your name. They were all happy for him, but that didn’t mean the chirping would stop.

They had another home game to play the following day, and Gabe convinced Cale to invite you and have you sit with Mel and Linnea. Later that day Cale went to your apartment and handed you his jersey, asking you to be there for the game. You couldn’t say no to him, not that you wanted to anyways. That Sunday you put on the jersey and headed to the stadium. Meeting Mel at the front, you quickly got along and enjoyed the game. The Avs came out victorious again, and you followed the captain’s wife to the locker rooms. You stepped aside as Gabe made his way over to his wife, feeling a little out of place. Luckily for you, Cale wasn’t far behind.

He didn’t know if it was from the guys comments or seeing you in his jersey, but one second he was smiling widely at you, then the next his lips were on yours and his hands on your waist. Without a second thought, you kissed him back, your hands holding his face to yours. You were both grinning ear to ear as you separated, chirps flying all around but all in good nature. Giggling, you hid your face in Cale’s chest as his face turned bright red.

Shades on spinning in a summer rain Dancing when there ain’t no music Just the right kind of crazy, baby Something about you Rocking that rock 'n roll t-shirt Whole party dressed up But you just doing your thing Ain't nobody ever seen nothin' like you, yeah

A year had passed and you were at the end of your grad program. You were set to present your research at the graduate fair, having been selected to present your research on behalf of your department. The Avs were scheduled to be flying back home that day, but Cale wasn’t sure if he would be there in time to see you present. You told him that it was fine, that you understood; and you really did. He was hell bent on making it though. You weren’t that surprised when you saw Cale sneaking into the back of the auditorium. What did surprise you was that half the team had followed him in. Having become good friends with them, they wanted to be there to support you too. As your name was announced, you swear you had the loudest applause.

You calmly presented your research, smiling at Cale when you finished and a few questions were thrown your way. Having worked so hard, the questions were simple to answer. Finding Cale afterward, he took your poster from you and the two of you made your way to his apartment so he could unpack from the trip. Changing into some leggings and one of his shirts, you showed him the bound copy of your 105 page thesis. He was so proud of you and couldn’t help but share the cover on his Insta story. The two of you cuddle and slept better that night then you had in a while. For him it was being back home with you, and you finally had the stress of your research gone since the first time you met him.

Nothin' like you Shades on spinning in a summer rain Dancing in the rain no music Nothin' like you Rocking that rock 'n roll t-shirt Whole party dressed up But you just doing your thing Ain't nobody ever seen nothin' like you, yeah

Once you graduated, Cale asked you to move in with him. You had secured a job at a museum as a curator in their Antient History section. Setting up an exhibit all morning, you met up with Cale at the same coffee shop you had met at two years prior later that day. “Sorry I’m late” you muttered to Cale as you found him. He smiled and gave you a quick kiss.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I already put your order in,” he said as you sat across from him, taking a sip of the coffee he got you.

“You know me so well,” you hummed with a giggle, the caramel latte tasting sweet. Cale grinned at you.

“Technically, your coffee order was the first thing I learned about you, so I better get that right,” he chuckled. “That and you seemed like a huge nerd.” You faked offense, but laughed anyway.

“It was all those books that got you. I knew my tactic of sitting in a coffee shop would work for me one day,” you winked at him.

“It did. I’d never seen nothing like you,” he grinned, reaching into his pocket to take out a small velvet jewelry box.

Never seen, never seen nothin' like you Ain't never seen anything like you Mmm Never seen nothin' like you

Tagging: @yeahcalesy @avsfans95 @tysojost

#nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #cale makar imagine #cale makar x reader #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagine

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meltwonu · 4 years ago

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| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 | [CHAPTER 6]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; cam show, mutual masturbation, daddy!kink, dirty talk, aftercare 😌 WHEWWWW the ball is rolling on our fave couple 😗😗 thanks for being patient with me and stickin’ it out even with my cliffhangers LOOOOOL 💕💕💕 I hope ya’ll enjoy~~ 😏 see yall in the next chapter and have a great weekend! be safe out there my bbys~ 🍒

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - ?

You don’t ask for favors.

Ever.

When you started camming, you learned how to work your lighting and cameras all on your own and started from the ground up; even if it was awkward at first. Every cent and every gift you’d gotten since then were given as donations and you’d made it a point to never ask for certain gifts or anything extra.

Until now.

“Um, yeah, sure! Within reason, of course.” Seungcheol replies with a shaky smile. A million thoughts run through his head in the split second before you reply, palms sweaty at the possibilities.

You wait for him to finish signing the receipt, thanking him for paying for lunch. “Well… See here’s the thing, right? I’m… Well, god, how do I even start this?” You pause, awkwardly laughing as you tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with but… I’m in town until Sunday night and I was wondering if you’d help me film?”

Seungcheol can only gulp, body buzzing as he takes in your words. “I--I mean, I, uh, I’d love to but I don’t know… I--I really don’t want to move that fast and I’d like to get to know you better before we--”

“No--no! Oh my gosh, I--not like that. I’m--I’m in the same boat as you just, sorry, I should’ve been more careful with my words! I mean, like, would you like to… be there? With me. You can watch me film and help me set up?” You offer, head tilting cutely as you wait for his response.

“It’s just, y’know, I don’t have all my camera equipment and stuff so it’d be nice to have someone who can help me set up for once… But only if you’re okay with it!”

And Seungcheol is more than okay with it; fingers gripping the cup of ice cream tightly as he watches you eat yours.

“Hey, ‘Cheollie your ice cream is melting…”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” He mutters, unable to focus as the two of you sit in a nearby park. You try talking to him the entire time; although your words go in one ear and out the other. He feels bad, not taking in anything you talk to him about but he can’t help the way his mind runs rampant at the thought of being in the same room as you while you cammed.

If there was anything he was glad for, it was that you were, at least, on the same page as him for now which meant no fucking.

“Do you consider this a date?”

Seungcheol refocuses on you, blinking rapidly at your question. “I’m sorry, what?” Giggling, you repeat your question, finishing off your ice cream before setting your own cup down next to you on the bench.

“Oh, well, I mean--I--I’d like it? But if you don’t consider it a date, then we don’t have to!”

You lean in close to Seungcheol, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re really interesting, ‘Cheol.” Pausing, you peer up at him through your lashes, watching as his face slowly forms a confused expression.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re… I dunno, guess I just expected a strict dom daddy in person and you’re… y’know, kinda shy and it’s cute.”

Seungcheol scoffs, inhaling what’s left of his ice cream before he sets his own cup down as well. “You think that for now, but you’ll see how easily I can slip right into character.” His eyes meet yours; fire burning beneath the surface. You can only bite your lip in response, finding your body already tingling with eagerness.

“I like that about you though, it’s nice that you’re not always strict or in character. I tried dating someone once who was always just… strict, and they hated that I cammed and it was just too much, y’know? Being possessive ‘n stuff.” He hums in response, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as the two of you enjoy each other’s company.

“I take it you two broke up?”

You nod in response, sighing. “I kinda knew it’d happen though. He was too possessive and jealous. D’you think you’d be like that, Seungcheol?”

He bites the inside of his cheek, toggling with an answer. “Dunno, on one hand I probably wouldn’t care ‘cause if it’s a person’s livelihood then it’s not my business, y’know? But at the same time I guess I can see where he was coming from…” He pauses, placing his arm on the backrest of the bench before pulling you in closer to himself.

“It’s all about communication, baby.”

Seungcheol takes you around town, purposely avoiding the roller rink until he can take you on Sunday. He takes you out for a light dinner as well, pampering you properly before he starts driving back to your hotel.

“Honestly, kinda shocked you wanted to hang out here for the weekend. It’s pretty boring around here. Unless you’re trying to find some ghosts.” He jokes, stopping at a red light. You laugh in return, relaxing into the passenger’s seat of Seungcheol’s car.

“It’s nice to get out once in a while! And you think it’s boring here but I can say the same about where I live. Truth be told, I’ve been thinkin’ about moving lately.” He glances your way, admiring your side profile as you stare out of the window.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Mmm, it’s just… getting boring, I guess. It’s about an hour out from here which isn’t horrible, just, y’know, a small town. I could go for a change of pace.” You admire the twinkling lights as the sun goes down, sighing contentedly. “Probably doesn’t really help that I go out in wigs sometimes just so people don’t clock me from my cam shows either.” You joke back, loving the way Seungcheol’s laugh sounds when he joins in on your laughter.

“How about your friends though? Won’t they miss you?”

The smile slides from your face; a certain sadness washing over you as you stare out of the window. “Mmm… maybe? Some of them aren’t too keen on the idea of me camming anyway. They said it’s too dangerous. But maybe moving to a new place would give me a new start too.”

You scan the cardkey for your hotel room, pushing the door open enough for Seungcheol to step in as well.

“Welcome to my home for the next, like, 72 hours.” You flop onto the bed, moaning in comfort when you sink into the cool sheets. “God, is it just me or are hotel sheets the fuckin’ best?” Your words are muffled against the pristine sheets, Seungcheol settling into the chair at the side of the bed as he watches you get comfortable.

A genuinely smile crosses his features as he watches you doze off. “I can order you some if you’d like.” You raise your head from the sheets, pouting at Seungcheol who only smiles in return.

“You don’t have to…” You mumble, a soft blush coating your cheeks.

“I’ll have them sent to your mailing address.” He chuckles, making a note in his phone to look into it later.

The two of you cool down for a bit before you start setting up; you dozing off on the bed as Seungcheol watches, nervousness suddenly washing over him again. “Hey, I know this kinda got mentioned before but… What do you usually do to prepare for your cam shows?”

“It depends! Sometimes I’m just ready to go without needing any help, but sometimes I’m not, like, super in the mood so I’ll watch porn to kinda… help.” You giggle, rolling over and reaching for your laptop. “Recently though, it’s been kinda easier.” Seungcheol smirks, crossing his legs as he leans back into the plush chair.

“Yeah? Why’s that.”

“You’re really gonna make me say it…” You trail off as a thrum of arousal shoots down your body.

“Why not? Think of it as me helping you prep for you show. Let me get you in the mood.”

Seungcheol’s deep voice gets even deeper when he slips into character; a certain twinkle in his eyes letting you know that he was completely serious.

“Tell daddy exactly what you think of before that red light starts blinking, baby.”

The electricity in your body is undeniable when you start to set up your laptop, already changed into your lingerie set for your show; a baby pink coloured matching set with small embroidered cherries all over the mesh. Seungcheol had initially sent it to you as a bit of a play on your camming username, but you had loved the set and wore it as often as you could.

Seungcheol helps adjust the lighting, moving the lamps around until you’re bathed in a soft warm glow. “Is this lighting okay? Did you want me to move it again?” He asks, dragging the chair he was sitting in until it sits just behind the laptop you’d set up on the sheets.

“Mm, I think it’s okay! Do I look pretty?” You tease, fingertips playing with the lace hem of your panties.

“Of course you do, baby. Always.” He replies as he sits down, getting comfortable in his seat again.

“Now, are you gonna show daddy just how wet that cute ‘lil pussy gets for me?” Seungcheol smirks, watching as the lust already pools in your eyes when you meet his piercing stare. “I bet your panties are already so wet thinkin’ about my fat cock in your tight cunt, huh? That’s why it’s been so easy for you to get off recently, right?”

You check the clock, only 15 minutes until you started your cam show. “I--y--yes, daddy…” You run your fingertips down your torso, watching as Seungcheol palms himself over his denim pants. “I think about daddy sooo much recently… My mouth starts drooling just thinking about daddy cumming down my throat… and filling me up with so much cum…” You moan out; pussy clenching around emptiness.

“What else, princess? Let daddy hear what you want.” Seungcheol quietly undoes the button and zipper of his jeans, fingertips at the waistband of his boxer briefs before he slowly slides them under.

“I--I think about you, um, p-punishing me for being a bad girl… your hands tangled in my hair when you make me choke on your cock… or your hands wrapped around my throat when you’re fucking me from behind, nice ‘n hard ‘til I’m crying… but I also think about daddy being n-nice to me and pampering me… eating out my wet pussy while I cum all over daddy’s face…” You whimper, touching yourself over your panties. A choked whine spills from your lips when you press into the growing wet spot on the material, hazy eyes checking the clock.

“O-oh fuck, I---I need to start the show…” You whisper. Seungcheol nods, hand slowly stroking his hardening cock. “Is it okay for me to… uh, get off or--”

“Yeah! I--yeah…” You giggle quietly, the blush growing on your face as you avert your eyes from watching Seungcheol stroking his thick cock in front of you.

You do a countdown, hitting the record button before you lean away from your laptop.

Almost immediately, the comments flood in, as well as the donations; the sound of them pouring out of the speakers as you giggle.

“Hi guys~”

universe_WZ: just wanna say thank u for the pics, i literally get off to them every night

hoshi_tiger_xx: i was so close….

gentleman_josh95: MF U SAID 10

alphagyu97: lmfao hi baby

tangerine_kwan has donated $50

sleepy_wonu has donated $75

angelhan: every night? Ur dick is gonna fall off

Seungcheol watches as you laugh, wondering what the others were saying now that he wasn’t on the other side as usual. In all honesty, he thought it was a little weird watching you cam in real life. It was also a little weird to not be interacting with the others for once; a slight smirk on his face when he knows he has the better place.

“You’re welcome ‘universe_WZ’! I’m glad you like ‘em! Oh--Wow! We’re already close to the donation minimum for me to start already and thank god! ‘Cause you guys… my panties are already soaked~” You whimper, spreading your legs in front of the camera and in front of Seungcheol.

xcaliburDK: whoa wait is it just me or is dom.cheol missing?

artist8hao: and ur backdrop looks diff???

therealchan99 has donated $100

therealchan99: iTS MY TURN TO SHINE

chwenon: where r u?

“Oh! I’m--on a small ‘lil vacation kinda thing! Just wanted a bit of a scenery change, y’know?” You tuck a stand of hair behind your ear, trailing the same hand down your body as you bite your lip.

“Wish daddy were here though… I really wanna feel daddy’s tongue all over my pussy… ‘n I wanna feel his fingers fucking me and getting me ready to take his fat cock…” Your eyes momentarily flit past your laptop camera and stare directly into Seungcheol’s eyes, twinkling with excitement when you meet his already fucked out expression.

Seungcheol feels his cock throbbing; his grip tightening when you pressed the soaked material against your skin. “God I can’t stop thinkin’ about it… I bet daddy likes watching me get off thinkin’ about him though, huh?” You laugh airily, sliding your wet panties down your legs before twirling them around a finger.

You toss the material past the camera and straight into Seungcheol’s lap; his jaw clenching as he loosens his grip to pick up the soaked panties.

kitty_junjun: too bad ur dom daddy isnt around but hey you have the 12 of us princess

sleepy_wonu: yea, why dont u take one of us for a spin heh

artist8hao has donated $75

“Oh~ 12 daddies? I’m so spoiled!” You pause to take off your bra, tossing it to the side instead. “Just thinkin’ about it makes me wanna cum~”

alphagyu97: oh man, bukkake party PLEASE

tangerine_kwan: hhrkdfhskj fuck

artist8hao: wait thatd be hot

Seungcheol gulps, wrapping your soaked panties around his hand before he wraps his hand around his cock again; head thrown back as he slowly starts thrusting up into his closed fist.

“Hmm~ Maybe daddy likes a dirty girl, huh? Seeing me covered in so much cum~” You run your fingers through your wet folds, pinching your clit between your fingertips. “Ngh, fuck, bet daddy would love seeing his, a-ah, cum pouring out of my cute ‘lil pussy…” You mumble; legs spreading wider to give your viewers a better view.

You coat your fingers in your wetness, already sinking two fingers into your soaking pussy once they’re completely covered. “Oh, g-god, daddy!”

angelhan: u werent kidding when u said u were already soaked, holy shit

xcaliburDK: i can hear how wet u r from here

universe_WZ has donated $50

chwenon has donated $69

chwenon: heh, bet u want daddys tongue on that clit of urs right about now huh

“God, you don’t even know… Daddy could make me cum just from licking my clit ‘cause ‘m so sensitive…” You scissor your fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you slowly start to add a third finger. “But I also want his fingers and his cock nice and deep…”

j__min: ;) id give it to u nice and deep

j__min has donated $200

You gulp slightly, almost glad Seungcheol was with you instead of in the chat. He would never admit to it even on the phone, but you knew the new addition to your regulars seemed to bother him, even at least a little bit. Not that you could blame him; it bothered you a little too. You’d gone so long without any new regulars that even you were slightly confused when you had checked the profile and found out that whoever ‘j__min’ was, was quite the popular cammer as well.

Seungcheol bites his lip to keep his noises in, jaw clenched as he watches you fuck yourself with three fingers deep in your cunt. He almost wanted to just knock the laptop over and get you off himself but he holds steady; reminding himself that fucking on the first date was out of the question.

“A-ah, ‘m really close~” Whining, you trail your free hand up your torso as you start to play with your breasts, pinching and twisting your nipples. Seungcheol starts meeting your pace, running his hand up and down his shaft as he coats your panties in his precum.

“Daddy, please, please let me cum!” You mewl.

Your eyes dance over to Seungcheol who nods firmly and you can’t help but lick your lips as you watch him get off with your panties.

Your legs threaten to snap shut when you thumb at your clit, rubbing quick circles on the swollen nub.

“O--ooh--fuh-fuck! I’m go--gonna c-cum!” You grit out; body tensing up as your orgasm washes over you and Seungcheol fares no better as he cums too, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as he cums all over your panties.

The sound of rapid donations flood the speakers but in the moment, only you and Seungcheol exist as you both ride out your orgasms together. Your toes curl against the sheets as your legs shake, shaky breaths and moans on your lips as you mentally remind yourself to not call out Seungcheol’s name despite how badly you really want to. Seungcheol’s entire body buzzes with electricity as he cums hard; his head fuzzy when his foggy eyes watch you ride out your high.

He slows down his own pace; letting the remnants of his orgasm ebb off, but for you, it’s nowhere near over as you slowly ease your fingers from inside of you, wincing at the sudden emptiness.

“Fuck, I, hah, I really… really wanna cum again a-already…” You mumble. “Do you think daddy will spoil me and give me permission to cum again?”

therealchan99: whatever the princess needs

hoshi_tiger_xx: whatever the princess wants more like

universe_WZ has donated $100

angelhan has donated $75

j__min has donated $100

Seungcheol nods again, this time shaky as he catches his breath. He watches as you reach behind yourself, grabbing one of the plush pillows before you set it in front of you.

You momentarily catch your breath before you swing a leg over it, immediately bunching up the material as you start grinding down on it.

“Ngh, god, wish---wish it was daddy’s thigh instead… buh--but this time… I want daddy to punish me~” You mewl, head thrown back at the pleasure that washes over you in an instant. “I’ve been a bad girl today… I have to make it up to daddy before I get his cock~”

sleepy_wonu: and how would u do that, huh?

gentleman_josh95: think u deserve it?

xcaliburDK: baby doesnt deserve to cum if she’s been bad~

“Noooo~ you have to let me c-cum! I can cum on daddy’s thigh… I’ll cockwarm too~ Just let me cum!” You cry, already feeling your second orgasm closing in fast. “The cold pillow feels nice against my hot body… ‘n I’m so wet still… I’m soaking through the pillow.” You giggle, grinding down hard.

j__min: i can buy u some nice expensive bed sheets for your setup if u want

j__min: just say the word ;)

“Hehe, that’s so kind of you but I already have some at home~” You wink at Seungcheol who looks at you with a confused stare.

You go quiet for a few minutes, getting lost in the pleasure as you grind against the taut pillow. Your moans bounce off the hotel walls; breathy and drawn out.

artist8hao: god ur so pretty i want to paint u so bad

alphagyu97: *IN CUM

gentleman_josh95: we need a pov show once i swear,,, wanna imagine its me

tangerine_kwan: god yes yes please just make it paid content if u dont wanna do it live

“Hmm~ a POV show? You wanna see my cute pussy filled up with real cock that bad?” You start grinding down harder, feeling the tension in your body already ready to snap when the fabric rubs against your sensitive clit. “I’ve b-been thinking about it more ‘n more and---and I want it too~ Mmh, just thinking about it m-makes me--wanna--wanna c-cum!” You whisper harshly; thighs shaking as you cum hard.

The donations pour in as your orgasm crests; eyes clamped shut as the ringing in your head takes over.

Seugncheol licks his lips, watching with adoration when you start whimpering; already knowing how tired you’d be once the cameras were off.

You give it a second as you start coming down from your high, body twitching as you catch your breath. “F-fuck, I--I’m so tired~” You whine cutely, leaning forward as you take a moment to read comments again.

therealchan99: ur so fuckin pretty when u cum

kitty_junjun has donated $50

kitty_junjun: such a cute messy girl, bet those sheets r soaking wet

“Ugh, they really are~ I’m so sorry but I couldn’t help it~” You pout. Seungcheol grins from his seat; a weird sense of pride swelling in his body. You read a few more comments and thank your viewers for their donations; eyes catching one last comment before you say your goodbyes.

j__min: aww too bad ur dom daddy wasn't around huh? should I replace him? lolol 😏

“Okay guys~ I gotta go and get cleaned up! Maybe I can get rid of the evidence before housekeeping finds it!” You joke, blowing the camera a kiss and a wink before saying goodbye and turning off the stream.

“You’re incredible.” Seungcheol exhales, tossing the soaked panties back onto the bed just as you slump to the side.

“Mmm... thanks...”

Seungcheol pouts watching your sleepy eyes threaten to close, getting up from his chair as he gets himself cleaned off quickly before he tends to you. “What do you usually do after your show ends?” He asks, voice echoing from the attached bathroom.

“Usually lay here for a bit until I go get cleaned off and then change my bedsheets and then eat a ‘lil before going to bed if I’m hungry.” You chuckle, maneuvering until you’re staring at the ceiling. “Depending on how tired I am though, I’ll sometimes just sleep in my mess and clean up in the morning.”

“Can you sit up for me?” You nod, seeing Seungcheol coming into view with a bottle of water.

You can only blush as he smoothes down you mussed hair, urging you to finish the bottle of water before he takes the soiled pillow off of the bed. “Well, the bed seems relatively clean so I don’t think we need to do much evidence hiding other than dealing with this pillow.” He jokes, already tugging the wet fabric off.

“Are you hungry? Do you want me to call in some room service or something? I can go out and get something too. Or have it delivered? I started running the bath while I was getting cleaned up in there so it should be ready soon.”

Your heart blooms at Seungcheol’s kindness; warmth filling your body when he helps you up from the bed and to the bathroom. He checks the water’s temperature before he helps you into the tub, immediately sitting on the edge as he watches you relax into the warm water.

“God, you must be exhausted. I can’t imagine what it’s like to just... be alone after all that and have to do the cleanup. I’d probably just pass out in my own filth.” Seungcheol shakes his head in a joking manner; a doting smile on his face when you seem to enjoy his pampering.

“Mmhmm... but this is nice... I could get used to this.”

#cherrybomb!cheol #scoups smut #seungcheol smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol imagines #scoups imagines #scoups scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt scenarios #scoups #seungcheol

538 notes · View notes

scabopolis · 4 years ago

Text

the gift of gab, the gift of you

Here it is @thisonesatellite! your 2020 CS Secret Santa gift. It was a complete and total delight to get to be your gift giver this year. That is not hyperbole - you are a gosh dang delight! Each of your message responses left me in stitches and while I will NEVER try and convince you a movie you think is bunk is good, I am delighted at the opportunity to recommend rom coms that don’t make you want to gouge your eyes out.

This fic is heavily inspired by your love of coffee shops AUs (except...you know, a pub), your travel stories (which I shamelessly incorporated into the fic) and I believe rates about a 4 on the reindeer scale of Christmas cheer. You’re a total eagle eye, so I just need to say I am well aware that Colin O’Donoghue’s accent in no way resembles an accent from Cork, but I just need that to be ignored, please and thank you.

Also, I’ve decided we’re fandom friends now. Okay? Okay! Finally, thank you to @cssecretsanta2020 for organizing this exchange and being the actual best and most patient fandom soul.

*** Title: the gift of gab, the gift of you

Summary: Emma needs an Irish man. Wait! No! It’s not what it sounds like. And then the universe just has to go and provide her with the world’s chattiest, flirtiest, blue-eyesiest Irish man in existence.

Available on AO3. ***

Emma is in no position to complain. From where she sits both literally – (perched upon a comfy barstool in the world’s coziest pub) – as well as existentially – (traveling abroad for the first time in her life) — she is fortunate and blessed.

It’s just –

It’s just it would be easier to enjoy it all if she didn’t have to deal with a rather annoying request from her rather annoyingly persistent mother.

Her headphones are in but Emma still takes great care to speak in hushed tones over video chat. There’s nothing she wants less than to be the loud American who shares her private conversation with an entire establishment. The pub she found is at the end of a quiet lane off of Cork’s high street. The customers within the pub appear to be locals well known by the staff who tend the pub. In truth, she wouldn’t even be having this conversation if it wasn’t for —

“Who have you talked to today?” her mother asks.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure I thanked the barista who made my coffee. And I ordered a pint in this pub.”

“That’s not talking.”

“It is by definition talking.”

“That’s not what I meant. How else are you going to get to know the city?” Her mom interrupts before Emma can properly formulate a snarky reply. “And don’t you dare say ‘guidebooks.’ Your father and I raised you better than that.”

“Mom, please don’t make me do this.”

“You said I could have anything I wanted as a souvenir.”

“What about a mug? I bought Grandma Ruth one with a big fat sheep on it.”

“Sounds lovely, sweetie, but no.”

“Mom.” Emma realizes that as a twenty-six year old woman it is probably unbecoming to whine, but her mother is being absolutely ridiculous. Where is her dad when she needs him to rescue her? All he requested was a bottle of whiskey. What a sensible person!

“No. It’s fine. If you don’t want to get your mother the one thing she asked for on this trip that’s okay. I won’t say one word about paying for this celebration trip, or paying for graduate school, or —”

“Shit, mom. Did you take a Guilt Trip 101 class or just Google how to?”

“Oh, this is natural talent. My present, please.”

“Fine.” There’s a group of bearded men, the ones she pegged as locals, tucked into one corner of the pub. They’re probably her best bet, but she just arrived last night, and the combination of jet lag and travel nerves make her feel not yet up for that. Which leaves the staff working the bar.

One of the two men she’s seen pouring pints and serving up food has gone missing. Besides, Emma wouldn’t trust herself in her sleep-deprived state to not say something utterly absurd to the blue-eyed, dark-haired, scruffy bartender. Probably a good thing he’s gone. Much safer is the other man working the bar – the one who refused to serve her Guinness but was very kind about it. While arguably attractive, he is a decidedly less intimidating sort of handsome. Unfortunately, he is in the midst of a heated discussion with one of the patrons, the two of them gesticulating to something happening with a football match on the screen. Which leaves the blonde haired woman currently polishing glasses.

Emma lightly clears her throat. “Excuse me, ma’am?” When the woman turns to look at her, Emma smiles, and signals her over. She sets aside the pint glasses and tucks the polishing rag into her apron. Her mother, on the other end of the video call, is not satisfied.

“Did you say ma’am?”

“Mom,” Emma whispers.

“I said an Irish man, Emma Blanchard Nolan. Man.”

“No. You said person.”

“The man was implied.”

“Then you should have been more specific.”

“Ready for another?” the woman at the bar asks.

Emma looks down at her half-full pint. “Not quite.” She frowns. “And, uh, you’re not Irish, are you?”

“No. Canadian.”

“Ah. Okay.” Emma lowers her voice again and looks at her phone screen. Her mother remains unimpressed. “That’s foreign. Technically she’s a foreigner.”

The sternness of Mary-Margaret’s expression is evident even over the video call. “Emmaline —”

“Not my name, mother.”

“Emmaline Blanchard Nolan, you promised me.”

“I’ll find an Irish person tomorrow.” It’s about this time Emma realizes she’s rudely ignoring the very kind and apparently Canadian bartender. The one she asked to speak with. What’s more, the very kind and apparently Canadian bartender has been joined by the curly haired bartender. Both of whom peer at her with matching expressions of amused befuddlement. Emma removes her headphones and addresses the man. “You’re Irish, right?”

“Well, miss,” and the gentle brogue of his accent, even with those two short words, is quite evident, “you are in Ireland.”

“Excellent! Can you talk to my mom?” She detaches the headphones from her phone and turns the camera around to face the man and woman. “My mom wants to have a conversation with an Irish person.”

“Irish man,” her mother corrects.

“An Irish man. Out in the wild.” The bartenders stare at her, nonplussed. “It’s her souvenir.”

The woman presses her lips together – an obvious attempt to stifle a laugh.

“Well, uh, aye.” The man tugs at his ear. “I guess I could —” He’s interrupted from his stuttering by the return of the blue-eyed, stubbly bartender, hauling a new keg into the back of the bar.

“Actually,” the woman cuts in. “My husband,” she hip checks the curly-haired man, “needs to replace the keg.”

“I do?” he asks.

“He does?” This from tall, dark, and holy hell! also possesses an Irish accent.

“But Killian is in the middle—”

“Shh,” the blonde woman interrupts her husband.

“Yeah. Killian is—”

She goes on to shush the man Emma now knows to be Killian.

“Oh no,” Mary Margaret whispers over the video call, “there’s two of them.”

“What is happening?” Emma’s not sure which of the two men asked, this whole interaction spinning rather absurdly out of control.

“I don’t know,” Emma says.

The woman ignores all of them. “I’m Elsa, this is Liam, and that,” she points to Killian, frozen with a hand on the keg like he’s uncertain what to do, “is my very single, very Irish brother-in-law.” And all at once it becomes clear what Elsa’s intentions are. “Killian, can you come over here and help our lovely patron and her lovely mother?”

“Oh, Emma, Killian even sounds like an Irish name.”

“Mom!” Originally she found her mother’s request to be silly but harmless. The more people who become involved, however, the quicker it approaches mortifying. Emma watches as Elsa whispers something to her brother-in-law, likely explaining the unconventional request.

“I’m very friendly,” Mary-Margaret reassures anyone who might be listening.

“You are a flirt, is what you are,” Emma scolds. “And what would dad say if he found out about this?”

“He asked for whiskey. I asked for this.”

“Come on, lass. Don’t deprive me of a dashing rescue.” Killian leans across the bar, his hand reaching out for her phone. All that stubble and the blue-eyes and the accent are worse when directed directly at her. “Besides, your mum sounds like a woman after my own heart.”

“If you’re sure—?”

“Absolutely.”

To her abject horror, the moment she hands Killian the phone, he walks away with it in hand.

“As requested, milady,” he says to the screen, “one genuine Irish man.”

Her mother’s delighted giggle is embarrassing for all Americans everywhere but it seems to delight Killian. She can just makeout her mother’s question about where he grew up when he rounds the corner, out of her hearing.

“Where is he going?” Emma asks, craning her neck. “Where is he taking my phone?”

“If I know Killian, your mum is probably about to get the most thorough oral history of Irish pubs she could have asked for,” Liam says, tossing a towel over his shoulder.

“Oh. Okay.” She drums her fingertips on her glass. “I’m sorry about all the trouble.”

“Nonsense,” he waves her off. “This is the most exciting thing to happen in our pub since Seamus and Willy hosted their wedding reception here.” He jerks his chin towards the group of bearded men she noticed earlier, though which one is Seamus and which is Willy she can’t be certain.

After another fifteen minutes, Emma has finished her pint and Killian still has possession of her phone. He crossed through the room once, merrily chatting with her mother as he regaled her with the story of how he got the scar on his cheek.

Elsa is filling a series of pint glasses for a group of women standing at the bar, and Emma feels the need to apologize again. “This isn’t what I expected,” she explains.

“What’s that?” Elsa asks.

“I was kind of thinking, best case scenario, there’d be an exchange of hellos and that would be that.”

Elsa nods, hands the pints off to the women, and then fills one more. “Are you familiar with the legend of the Blarney stone?”

Emma nods. She has absolutely no intention of kissing the dang thing (her research indicates local teens do all manner of ungodly things to the stone, knowing that tourists intend to kiss it), but it’s on her list to go see.

“Well, Jones family legend —”

“I take it your husband and his brother are Jones’?”

“And me by marriage. Jones family legend has it that Killian must have been birthed upon the stone because never has there been a man more endowed with the gift of gab.” Elsa finishes pouring the pint and sets it in front of her.

“Oh, I didn’t order this.” Right at that moment, Liam returns to the bar and sets a turkey sandwich in front of her. “Or this,” Emma says.

“Knowing my brother, you might be here a while,” Liam explains.

“Gift of gab?”

He nods, pleased that the Jones family lore has reached her. “Gift of gab.”

Liam proves to be correct, which means Emma has ample time to get to know both Elsa and Liam. The two of them are freakishly adept at juggling bartending, interacting with their customers, and keeping up a steady flow of conversation with her. The highlight is hearing the full story of Seamus and Willy (she is able to identify them by their matching navy sweaters – sweaters which Willy apparently handknits for the both of them), two men who worked on the same fishing boat for decades before realizing they were in love.

“Once they sorted that bit out, they got married three weeks later,” Elsa says.

“So which one of them is the designated driver?” Emma asks.

“That whole lot lives down the street.” Liam raises his voice so the group can hear them. “And they do nothing but hassle me every day of my life!” The group all raise their pint glasses and cheer, indicating this kind of teasing is something central to the pub’s dynamic.

Killian returns from wherever it was he was busy flirting with her mother and sets her phone on the bartop. She looks down at the display only to find it blank.

“Uh, your mum had to run to the market, but she indicated she’ll call you later.”

“She didn’t even say goodbye? Unbelievable.” As Emma gears herself up for peak mom-annoyance, she gets a text message. “Speak of the devil.”

4:38 PM - Mom to Emma hubba hubba

“Ah, geez, mom,” she grumbles.

“What’d she say about me?” Killian asks.

“What makes you think that text was about you?”

“Because you have roses in your cheeks.” Emma frowns. She what? “You’re blushing,” Killian says.

“No I’m not.”

“It’s getting deeper, I’m afraid.” He takes away her empty pint glass. “Another?”

“Yes, please.”

He sets another pint of Murphy’s in front of her (Liam was the one to inform her that one drinks Murphy’s when one is in Cork). “Your mother is lovely.”

“Yeah, she’s something alright.” She sips the beer and licks the foam off her lip. “What were the two of you talking about for so long?”

“Oh, just having a chat. She wanted to know about the pub and how Elsa and Liam met.”

“The gift of gab.”

“Ah,” he says, “Elsa told you of that, then?”

“Like my mom didn’t tell you anything about me?”

“It was all good, Emma.”

She snorts. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Why a conversation with an Irish man?” Emma frowns at Killian, not quite certain of what he’s asking. “For a souvenir. That’s truly all your mum wanted?”

“Oh, that. In between flirting, did she tell you anything about her and my dad?” Killian shakes his head. “It’s kind of a long story.”

As if waiting for his cue, Liam comes up behind Killian and slings an arm around his brother’s shoulder. “My dear little brother has time.”

“Younger brother,” Killian corrects.

“Shorter brother.” Liam bumps Killian towards the other side of the bar. “Why don’t you keep Emma company?”

“I have another three hours on my shift.”

“I think Elsa and I can handle it until Will arrives.”

“Liam.”

“Don’t make me fire you.”

“You can’t fire me. We’re co-owners.”

“Fine. Don’t make me quit.”

Killian rolls his eyes but slides out from under Liam’s arm. He crosses to the other side of the bar and sits beside Emma. “I’ll take a pint, then.” He raps his knuckles on the bartop. “And make it quick.”

Emma hides her smile in her pint glass. Both Liam and Elsa have been so lovely. There’s no reason to switch allegiances at this point. Regardless of how much she might be tempted by the stubbly-faced, blue-eyed flirty Irish man sitting beside her.

“Between the two of them and my mother,” Emma says.

“Yeah, not the most subtle lot.” Liam shoots Killian a glare as he sets the pint down to which Killian responds with the cheekiest grin Emma has ever seen. The interaction has older and baby brother written all over it. “So, your mom and Irishmen. Go.”

“Oh, that.” Unlike her mother, and even her father, Emma holds the details of her life close to her chest. She’s made the mistake in the past of sharing too much too fast. When people leave her, either by choice or circumstance, it physically pains her to know there are people out in the world with knowledge of her worries, fears and dreams. But maybe it’s the sandwich sitting warm in her stomach, or the jet lag, or simply the buzz of international travel, because she feels inclined to share at least a few details of her life with Killian.

“My mom and dad both took a gap year after high school and met while backpacking across Europe. They met at the Roman Colosseum, decided to match up their itineraries, and by the time they arrived in Budapest five months later they were in love and my mom was pregnant.”

“And they’ve been together ever since?”

“Almost 27 years.”

“That’s quite the story.”

She nods. “They cut their year of travel short, and went to live with my Grandma Ruth, my dad’s mom. They always talked about returning to Europe, finishing their trip at some point, but by the time I was old enough to leave behind with my grandma, dad was in vet school, mom was teaching, and they were running a wildlife rescue from the family farm. They kept making new plans to travel but they just kept getting pushed back and back and back. Until, one day, they decided to put all that money towards sending me on my first trip instead. So, as much as I fight every silly request she has of me, I would do anything if it made her smile.”

“Your mum and dad never made it to Ireland?”

“Nope.”

“Thus the strange request.”

“Well, it gave me a reason to chat with the lovely lass at the bar, so for that I’ll be forever grateful.”

Her Grandma Ruth, Aunt Ruby, and frankly everyone who knows her parents well, routinely comment on the resemblance between Emma and her dad. Apparently in temperament and affectation they are almost identical. But maybe she’s more like her mom than anyone knows because the conversation between her and Killian flows fast and easy. Easy enough that she barely notices when she and Killian finish their pints and Elsa slides new glasses in front of them. Emma’s head is feeling a little buzzy, and that turkey sandwich was more than a couple hours ago. Maybe she can hint at Killian that she wants to go to the Christmas market. Hint even more specifically that she wouldn’t hate if he went with her.

No, she can’t do that. To even think such a thing would be ridiculous.

She can’t possibly ask a practical stranger to walk up and down the stalls of the festive market with her. She can’t expect him to want to sample all the baked goods and food they can handle. Or to hold her hand while they drink spiked apple cider. That kind of thinking is romantic, and hopeful, and not at all her brand.

“This is really your first trip out of the states?” Killian asks.

“I mean, Canada, but that’s so close to home it doesn’t count.” Emma catches herself, eyes darting to Elsa. “Don’t tell your sister.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” Killian angles his body on the stool to face her more directly. Without Emma realizing it, they’ve drifted close enough together over the past hour or so that the move makes it so their knees knock together. Emma could move away, put some distance between them, but everything is foggy and hazy in that delicious way, and she can’t bring herself to move. “What does that make me, then? The ruggedly handsome foreigner you intend to seduce as a notch on your bedpost?”

“Who said anything about seduction?”

“You’re giving me bedroom eyes.”

“I do not make eyes of any kind. Especially bedroom eyes.”

Elsa jumps in, setting glasses of water down for each of them. “Yeah, but Killian does. And he needs to put them away.”

Emma tries to react quickly enough to Elsa’s teasing to evade Killian’s detection, to turn away and hide her smile in her shoulder so he can’t see, but the gentle tug on the end of her braid indicates he caught her.

“Think that’s funny, do you?”

“You and my mom ganged up against me. I deserve to join with your family against you.”

“Your mum is great.” He shrugs. “Well, based on the little I know.”

“I know she can be a little intense. I hope she didn’t—”

“She was as lovely as her daughter.” Before his words can fully sink in, perhaps bringing that blush back to her cheeks, he’s moved on. “You’ll have to bring her with you when you return.”

She rests her chin on palm, blinking up at him. Okay, maybe she sometimes makes eyes. “What makes you think I have any plans to come back?”

“Ireland gets in your blood. You’ll be back.”

This time they’re interrupted by Liam. He swipes away the pint glasses in front of them, remaining beer and all. “That’s about all I can stomach of that.”

“What do you mean?” Killian asks.

“You’ve been flirting with the kind tourist long enough. Time to go.”

Oh. Emma looks down at her boots. A surge of deep embarrassment heating her cheeks and causing her stomach to churn. “Sorry,” she says quietly, her eyes turned down. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No!” The twin cries from both Liam and Killian startle her. She’s not sure which one appears more stricken by her announcement she intended to leave.

“Apologies, Emma, I wasn’t clear,” Liam says. He extends his hand to Killian. “Apron.” It takes Killian a moment to react but when Liam stays in his place, his hand extended, Killian removes his apron and hands it to him. “See you tomorrow, little brother.”

“Younger.”

“Dumber.”

“Stubborner.”

“Not a word.” Liam stalks back over to Elsa who is shaking her head at the whole display. “They’re both idiots,” Liam says, and Emma is just going to pretend she didn’t hear that, thank you very much.

“Have you been to the Christmas market yet, Emma?” Killian’s voice brings her back to the pub, and this particular bar stool, with this particular man. This particular man who has somehow intuited the secret desire of her heart to go to the town’s Christmas market with him.

“No. No. Not yet.”

Killian jumps down from his seat and extends a hand to Emma to help her down. “Come on, love. Let’s sail away.”

There’s 100 ways Emma could respond to that. She could tell Killian she isn’t his love. She could jump down from the stool on her own. She could insist she’s fine going to the market by herself. But she tries to channel a little magic, that particular magic which for her mom and dad turned one day in Rome into a lifetime, and chooses differently.

(Not that she’s saying she expects—)

She takes Killian’s offered hand and his answering grin is all the confirmation she needs she made the right decision.

And so they go to the Christmas market, and at Killian’s insistence she tries mulled wine but quickly trades it in for a cup of boozy cider. They ride the ferris wheel, the cold stinging her cheeks from the top, the lights of Cork spread out before her, and that thrum of love for this place beats loudly in her veins. Suddenly every travel story her parents have ever told her makes sense and maybe Killian is right – maybe Ireland is in her blood.

They walk together side-by-side and at a point Emma can’t remember – somewhere between sampling whiskey, buying several bottles for her dad, and licking salt and malt vinegar from hot chips off her fingers – they transition to walking hand-in-hand. The heat of Killian’s skin, even through two layers of gloves, is what she blames for the fact that she actually starts humming along to Christmas carols. Where’s that deep cynicism she has been committed to for her life when she needs it?

“Told you,” Killian says after the two of them step away from a stall with handmade ornaments. She must have been channeling her mom because she couldn’t stop herself from striking up a conversation with the vendor. Somehow by the end of the interaction she’d agreed to join him and his wife for their annual holiday pub crawl the following night.

“Told me what?”

“That you would fall for Ireland.”

“You get the honor and privilege of keeping me company on my first full night on my first real trip out of the country and all you can say is ‘I told you so’?”

“I believe what I am trying to say, love, is you appear very much at home here.”

The sentiment makes everything in Emma buzz, but she does what she does best and works to diffuse it. “Well, uh, I don’t know. Does it ever snow here?”

“Eh, we get about 50 mm every year?” At her look of confusion Killian smiles. “Not much.”

“Have you ever had a white Christmas?”

“Can’t say I have. They’re pretty rare in Ireland.”

“In that case, I think this means you should come to Maine. We do a great white Christmas.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Great. Next year sound good?”

Killian laughs and squeezes her hand. “Sounds great.”

She hears the faint echo of advice her dad once gave her. It was right when she was fresh off her heartbreak with Neal and wasn’t sure she had it in her to apply for grad school. He said something to her about moments. About the need to notice good moments even in the midst of bad ones.

Standing here hand-in-hand with a man she met only five hours ago, the glow of Christmas lights dancing in technicolor hues against his cheeks and hair, Emma is absolutely certain this is a good moment.

“Emma?”

She answers Killian’s question by rising up on her toes and kissing him. It’s quick and fleeting, barely a brush of her lips against his, but the look on his face as she pulls away, all bright eyed-wonder, deserves to be classified as a good moment all on its own.

It takes self-control Emma wasn’t aware she possessed to not drop their shopping bags to the ground, grip him by the lapels of his jacket, and kiss the crap out of him. Instead she loops her arm in his.

“It’s getting late,” she says. “Want to walk me back to my hotel?”

He swallows, that poleaxed expression still on his face. “Aye.”

The next morning, Emma is woken up by the sound of her video call alert and boy it was a mistake to not extend her do not disturb until noon. She reaches out and blindly bats at the bedside table until she makes contact with her phone. As soon as she swipes up on her mom’s call, she squeezes her eyes shut again.

“Hello?”

“Oh, sweetie. Are you still jet lagged?”

“And a little hungover.”

“Sounds like you had a very eventful night.”

Killian grumbles from somewhere behind her. “What time is it?” he asks.

It’s right about this moment Emma realizes her error. Her mom goes quiet and Emma considers taking the opportunity to end the call. And then maybe ignore every call thereafter for the next five days.

“Emma Nolan. Is there a man in bed with you?”

“No,” Emma answers, though it’s perfunctory and not at all convincing.

Killian presses closer to her, and shifts so his chin rests on her shoulder. “Hello again, Mrs. Nolan. And this must be Mr. Nolan.”

That gets Emma’s attention and she opens her eyes enough to see her mom and dad sitting beside one another on the couch. While her mom is positively gleeful, her dad looks as though he wishes he could melt into the couch cushions and disappear.

“There are certain things I don’t care to see,” her dad says. “Certain things I don’t care to know.”

Emma rotates in bed and onto her back, holding the phone above her head so both she and Killian are still in view of the camera. “Oh hush, Dad, you and mom did it the first night you met.”

“You told her that?”

In response, her mom shrugs. “She asked.”

“And not that it matters, but Killian and I didn’t have sex.”

Though it didn’t stop them from trading long, slow kisses that left her dizzy and wanting more, more, and more. Killian must have felt the same because it took little to no convincing to get him to stay the night. Perhaps most remarkably, after extending the invitation, Emma had no desire to retract it or pretend it didn’t mean anything.

“Your daughter was far too drunk to have sex.” Emma turns her head so fast in Killian’s direction she hears something crack.

“That, for instance, is one of the things I don't want to know about,” her dad says.

Killian cheerfully waves at the camera, ignoring both her father’s indignation and her glare. “I’m Killian, by the way. Happy to meet your acquaintance, Mr. Nolan.”

Emma elbows Killian. The man is a total menace. “I’ll call you guys back when I’ve had coffee,”

“I want details,” her mom says.

“And I want no details.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Emma hangs up the phone and tosses it in the direction of the foot of the bed. She flips over onto her side and Killian mirrors her, reaching out to trace the freckles on the bridge of her nose. “So that was my dad.”

“He seems a charming fellow.”

“Don’t let the responsible tough guy act fool you,” she says, and snuggles closer to Killian. He responds just as she hoped, by wrapping his arms tight around her. “He once spent all his money on a cross country train ride and stole oyster crackers from the dining car for food. And during a California road trip, my mom almost froze to death sleeping in her wet bathing suit on the side of the road.”

Killian chuckles, the vibrations of his laugh making her feel even warmer. “You’re saying they can deal with a half naked man in their daughter’s hotel room?”

“Yeah, they can deal.” After a moment’s hesitation, Emma slips her hands up and under Killian’s shirt. It’s the one he wore to work, and she can still smell the faint aromas of beer and fried food that linger. She presses her palms against his back and bunches the shirt up, up, and then over his head.

“Emma?”

A girl could get used to the way his voice moves over the syllables of her name. “They might have a problem with a fully naked one, though.” She kisses his bare shoulder.

Killian’s hands move under her shirt to span her waist. Goosebumps breakout across her skin. By the slight twist of his lips, Killian notices. “So you’re saying—?”

“I’m saying you should quit gabbing and kiss me before they call again.”

“As you wish.”

And a week later, when she is back in Maine celebrating Christmas with her family and Killian is in Ireland with his, Emma convinces herself she imagined it. She must have. She must have imagined how safe she felt in the presence of another person. Imagined the comfort she felt as he joined her for a quick road trip to Dublin. Imagined that it could feel like your heart was split in two, half residing in the chest of a person you just met.

But the week of New Year’s Eve, when he arrives in Maine to celebrate with her, she’s startled to find it was all real.

The morning after Killian arrives, she sits with her mom in her parents’ breakfast nook, the two of them sipping coffee as Killian and her dad make waffles.

“Not such a dumb souvenir after all, huh?” her mom whispers.

Emma shakes her head, too happy to even react to her mom’s shameless gloating. “No. Not so dumb.”

#csss2020 #cssecretsanta2020 #cs ff #ouat ff #killian jones #emma swan #cs secret santa 2020 #p: emma x killian #thisonesatellite

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wordsfromthesol · 4 years ago

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Character Model

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: You may or may not have been following Jason Todd around a bookstore so you could model one of your story characters after him. He may or may not have noticed. Warnings: Language? Word Count: 2k A/N: Just a story from my drafts folder. Sorry I haven’t been able to write any of the wonderful requests I have sitting in my inbox...work has been running me ragged. But they are coming! Love you all 💛

You had no idea where this man came from, but he was perfect. Exactly what you envisioned the assassin prince in your newest story to look like, and he just waltzed into the bookstore. First, you tried to ignore him…after all it would be kind of creepy to stare at this man while sketching him and jotting down little details about the way he walks, talks, runs his fingers through his hair. The more you thought about it, the more you couldn’t get him out of your mind. As you watched his mannerisms, he just became more perfect. Fuck it. You got up from your seat and moved closer to him, pretending to look at the books on the shelf. It wasn’t a very good cover story, as it was quite obvious you were drawing him. I will never see this man again, who cares.

You were never the best artist, but the image got the message across. Once it was complete, you continued following him awkwardly around the store jotting down notes. His interest in certain books, the way he seemed to survey the bookstore…Maybe he is an assassin prince? Those didn’t actually exist right? You ignored those thoughts as you commented on his gait. Wrapped up in your descriptions, you didn’t realize he was now watching you. That is until you looked up again and saw his steel blue eyes staring into yours.

“What are you profiling me for, doll?”

You spun around, hoping he wasn’t talking to you. No such luck. “Oh, uhm, I wasn’t?”

“Hmm, sure does look like it. Can I see that sketch?”

“Heh, you saw that?” He raised his eyebrows. Of course he saw it, Y/N, you are being creepy. “Okay, I swear I’m not stalking you! I just…gosh this is going to sound so stupid…you look exactly like how I envisioned this character in my head…for a story.”

“You’re a writer?”

“Some people would beg to differ, but I guess technically.”

“So what’s the character then?”

Okay now he’s going to be offended. “Uhm…an assassin? But he’s also like prince to the guild thing. It’s kind of complicated.”

“So I look like an assassin?”

“Kind of…?” To your surprise the man chuckled.

“Not gunna lie, I’ve been called so much worse.”

Why are you so awkward? “Well sorry for being creepy…” You turned to leave and didn’t notice the man following you until you nearly slammed the front door in his face.

“I think I deserve to see that sketch after you followed me around for an hour AND tried to knock me out with a door.”

“Oh my go – I’m so sorry, I figured I’d thoroughly…embarrassed myself, so I left…why are you following me?”

“Thought I’d return the favor?” You gave him a nervous smile, the thought of this very large strange man walking you home, at night, in Gotham, did not provide you with much peace. “Relax, you look just like a character I imagined…” He quipped, trying to ease your obvious discomfort.

“Not funny.”

“Really though, it’s dark and getting late and this is Gotham.” You eyed him suspiciously, this still probably wasn’t the smartest move on your part, but you relented and motioned for him to follow.

“Don’t make fun of it, I’m a writer not an artist. This is purely for research.” You commented as you passed him the sheet of notebook paper.

“It looks good, I especially like all the little notes about me. Ruggedly handsome? Piercing steel blue eyes?”

Shit. I forgot about those. “Uhm, yeah.” You tried to snatch the paper back, but he could easily keep it from you. “It was research!” Huffing, you remember some of the descriptions were not very complimentary. Watching his eyes scan the page, you tried to explain. “Some of them are just for the character, don’t take it…”

“No, they are all…pretty spot on I’d say.” His voice turned solemn, almost sad, as he passed the paper back to you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nah,” he waved it off, picking back up his nonchalant timbre.

The two of you mindless chatted about your favorite books until you arrived at your apartment building.

“Well, this is me. Thanks again…” You had just realized the two of you never exchanged names. “My name’s Y/N, by the way.”

“Jason. I’ll see you around. Try not to stalk anyone else.”

“No promises!” You called out as you entered the apartment.

It had been nearly a week, and honestly you didn’t expect to see the stranger again. After all, how would you? No numbers or last names were exchanged. Yet there he was, sitting across from you at the coffee shop, face buried in a book. This man is actually reading in a coffee shop. He looked so out of place compared to all the usual suspects. It would be creepy if I remembered him, right? I’m just going to ignore him. Your plan didn’t last long, as Jason soon came up and sat beside you.

“Stalking anyone new today?”

“Oh, I uhm…no. Writing about you actually…the character! The character not you.” God, you’re so smooth. You thought as you brought your hand up to cover your face.

“So how is assassin me doing today?”

“Honestly? You’re kind of being a bitch. Like how am I supposed to know how you will react if you are refusing to tell me?”

“Uhm…isn’t that the part you’re supposed to make up?”

“No, I made up you…the assassin…now you’re…they’re supposed to tell me what they want to do.”

“Uh huh. Right. You know they aren’t real right? Like I’m not actually a killer prince.”

“Heh, yeah I know. Wouldn’t that be cool though?”

“I just think you’d be assassinated.”

“Ohh, harsh. Though, sadly, I would just be murdered.”

“No, I had it right.” Jason gave you a smirk as he got up from the table and walked out the door.

Did that actually just happen? You quickly gathered your things and threw them into your computer bag, racing after him. “WAIT!” You noticed he had stopped just outside the door and well before you called after him.

“Walking home?”

“Uhm, yeah. Can I ask you some questions first?”

“How about you can ask me questions until we get to your apartment building?”

“Deal.”

It was a short ten-minute walk, but you picked his brain. Giving him situations to see how he would react. This was way easier than you rewriting the scene, or going back and forth for hours before giving up and not writing anything at all. In fact, his reactions were eerily similar to that of your murderous character. You weren’t accidentally copying his life, right?

The next time you saw him, you were out with friends at some random bar. He sat there stoically on the bar stool, staring into space. This was so…like if your character had just murdered someone. No, he couldn’t have. Probably just a bad day. You excused yourself from the group of friends and slide in to the stool besides Jason.

“So, Jason, bad day?”

“Oh, Y/N. I didn’t…you’re here.”

“Yeah, I try to have a life sometimes. Albeit very rarely.”

“Hm, well, don’t let me keep you.”

“That’s alright, they are content without me.” You pointed towards a group of people. “And plus, you look like you need some company.”

“…”

“Man, riveting stuff. So, what are you drinking?”

“Whiskey.”

“Just…straight? Alright, spill. Remember I know you.”

“I…just had a bad day at work. I’ll get over it.”

“I’m sure whatever happened wasn’t your fault. Some situations are inevitable.”

“I guess.”

“So what do you do, exactly?”

A sad, solemn smile laced his lips as he got up from the bar. “Another time. Get home safe, Y/N.”

“That wasn’t an answer…” you mumbled as you made your way back to your friends.

Just the next day, you were mindless going aisle by aisle in the grocery store, when you feel someone slightly bump into you. You whipped your head around to see the culprit, when what you saw was Jason with a big grin on his face.

“I’m starting to think you never stopped stalking me.”

“If anything, you’re stalking me. This is the closest grocery to my apartment…which you know the address of. I have no clue where you live.”

“Fair enough.” He looked down at the assorted items in your cart, “got a plan for those?”

“Honestly, my version of cooking is throwing some things in a pan and hoping for the best.”

“Hm, well, I could come over and show you some things?”

“Jason, I don’t know your middle or last name, are you offering to cook for me?”

“Peter Todd, and yes, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, I am.”

You looked at him with surprise, “See, now who’s stalking who.”

He started to trail off with a smirk, “I’ll be at yours at 6!”

Did that seriously just happen? How did he know my name? Once you were done you raced home to clean. You were so not prepared for guests, with your scratch paper and sticky notes strewn about the apartment. As soon as the clock struck 6, you heard a knock at the door.

Jason tried to show you what he’s doing in the kitchen, but you couldn’t care less. You sat on the counter, pretending to listen to the instructions, while sipping on the wine in your hand.

“You’re not retaining any of this, are you?”

“Hmm, not really. But I’m quite enjoying watching you do it.” You motioned for him to continue preparing the meal.

“Are you just trying to get a free meal?”

“Well, technically I paid for the food, I’m just after the free chef…that was…I meant like after the preparation of the food…not after you…” Shut up Y/N, you are making it worse.

“That’s alright, I’m just after the free writer.” He looked over his shoulder and winked at you before returning to the stove.

“Does cooking always take this long? It’s nearly 7!” You were trying to quickly change the subject and forget the embarrassment you had just endured.

“Calm down, doll, it’s nearly ready. Grab some plates.” You hopped off the counter and took two plates down from the cabinet, placing them next to the stove before sitting at your kitchen island patiently waiting to be served food.

“Okay, this is amazing. MAYBE worth the hour wait.”

“Oh well MAYBE I’ll take it back then.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Though both of your plates had been empty for hours, and the mess in the kitchen was staring you in the face, neither of you could seem to move. You found anything and everything to talk about, well almost everything. For some reason he still wouldn’t tell you what he did for a living. Which annoyed you because whatever it was clearly took its toll.

“Okay, fine! Don’t tell me, some big ole secret. I’m beginning to think you actually are an assassin prince and your consciousness just went into mine…so now you’re a character in my book.”

“I guess I’ll just have to read it and let you know.”

You side-eyed him, “You can read it when I find out what you do?” You knew at this point there was no hope in getting an answer.

“Tempting. Perhaps you can tempt me further Wednesday night.” Jason rose from the stool and traipsed over to the door. You quickly followed him, mainly out of sheer confusion.

“What’s Wednesday night?”

“Well, I figure those leftovers will last about two days. Can’t leave you without your free chef.” At this point his face was inches from yours. “I’ll be here at 6.” He whispered as he quickly spun on his heel and left.

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yoichichi · 4 years ago

Text

Bunny’s 200 follower event

request: hi hi!! i just saw ur matchups event and i’m super excited... also idk if i’m doing this right 👀 but uh could i have 2 hq matchups? ☺️ i’m a cancer and most likely an infj! i am pretty loyal to people i’m close eith, but otherwise, i’m kinda quiet and closedoff with others. i’m also pretty sensitive and empathetic when i can be 😖 oh! and uhh some of my hobbies include journaling, crocheting, and hiking/walking. now, as for a s/o, i really admire determined and thoughtful people!! (part one ⛈) (part two ⛈) i also like people who are on the more quiet side, but ngl, i love people with a bunch of energy too... so i mean, i could go either way 😅 and uhh i would NOT like a partner who is too cold or insensitive... or anyone who is too immature 😳 oh, some things i didn’t mention before: i’m kinda short (barely 5’2”) and uhh yeah idk if that means anything loll 👀 anyways that’s it :D tysm!! congrats on 200!! 💕

a/n: I’m happy you’re excited!! And don’t worry you did do this right lol! Thank you and I hope you enjoy! I’m also officially adding you as ⛈ anon so this will be easier for you to track :) hello ⛈ anon okok enjoy lol

Warnings: slight timeskip spoilers!

Reading your request, you have been matched with...

(づ￣ ³￣)づ Sugawara Koushi

Ok so hear me out, YES he’s a Gemini and yes you’re a cancer but this is so perfect on all other levels

This mf has to be one of the most determined and thoughtful people I know

Not to mention I think he’s the perfect balance of quiet but also energetic! And he has company that match both so he’s able to match your energy any day of the week

He’s also not quiet in a boring way ya know?

He will tease you lovingly, but in private cause he doesn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea that they can tease you too or something

He’s also mature in a genuine way, like understanding of other people’s perspectives type mature

Not that faux I’m a dude type mature

Ok anyways onto your relationship

He will shamelessly ask for a crocheted scarf, mittens, and sweater

And he WILL wear them

They can be a set or not doesn’t matter his heart might actually burst if you give him anything of yours that you’ve crocheted

Pls he has a scarf you made him when it starts getting colder outside and one day a kid in his class asked about it and he was so 🤩

It took everything in him not to talk about you and your scarf all day

He simply told them his spouse made it for him and yes every kid immediately wanted one ☝🏼

Your loyalty and dedication to the relationship would mean a lot to him and he’d always be doing his best to show you he is just as dedicated

I feel like he’d do that like trying out your hobbies with you!

He’d totally sit and let you teach him how to crochet and then try his best to make you a scarf it does fall apart the first try and it does defeat him a little but boy is DETERMINED to make you a mf scarf

Ok I’m sorry enough with the crocheting LMAO

He’d love taking afternoon walks with you!

I could totally see you guys taking a little walk around the block or at a nearby park after you’re both off work and just catching up with your days and then making dinner when you two get home

They’re the highlight of his day :)

His students would know probably so much about you LMAO

You bring him lunch ONCE and you didn’t realize his kids would be still be in the classroom and they’re immediately bombarding you, they are also calling you by your first name LMAO

“Hi (y/n)~~~!”

“Oh my gosh can you please~~ make me a scarf!”

“Yeah me, too!”

“Wait wait look what I made you!”

It’s a stick figure drawing of what you think is you and suga on a piece of construction paper that’s your favorite color, why suga told them that you don’t know

Your hair is also rainbow because, they’re children LMAO

And Suga’s just standing there like 🧍🏼‍♂️

But it’s very sweet and it warms your heart to know that he’s always thinking of you :)

Your vibe reminds me of...

Another suitable match for you would be...

(づ￣ ³￣)づ Akaashi Keiji

He’s a bit quieter than Suga for sure, but with the company he keeps - I mean cmon Bokuto? - he’s CLEARLY ok with being energetic or at the very least being around energetic people

Ok with akaashi you’re not getting rid of Bokuto let’s address that first, you’ve just gained a new bestie

He is ALWAYS fawning over you two when you’re all together

Candid vids of you guys are basically all his private snapchat story is at this point

He’s really your biggest fan it’s so sweet, allbeit overbearing at times but he means well ❣️

I’m sorry,... I’m bringing up crocheting again...

If you crochet akaashi anything you have to make a second one because Bokuto will want one too I’m sorry LMAO

SOmtimes he doesn’t fully grasp that not everything involves him in the relationship, he just loves y’all

He wouldn’t cross boundaries though he’s not like that :)

Ok moving on from Bokuto LMAO

You two are that quiet, really gorgeous couple that scares people asjdkskajs

Like seeing you two together in public and you’re both so quiet but OBVIOUSLY love each other with the way you’re so physically close in proximity and the way you keep looking at each other

You two communicate with just your eyes ALL the time, like y’all will basically have full on conversations

You’ll be tired and want to go home to cuddle, and you’ll just look at Akaashi and the two of you will exchange a few glances before nodding your heads and your walking out hand in hand bye

It scares Bokuto

Anyway

PINKY HOLDING

I do see him as a big hand holder in public but he’s also insecure about his hands :(

So I feel like he’d have a habit of holding your hand and then letting go soon after when he gets insecure, and lord help him if his hands are clammy oh no

But you’d be so !!! No let me hold it!!

So you’d just latch onto his pinky one day when he goes to pull his hand away and just share a look

So now pinky hand holding is the norm

Ok he’s the kind of guy who would lowkey like how short you are

Like it’s perfect for cuddle dates

His fav is to lay in bed with you in between his legs and your leaning against his chest, and he’ll rest his chin on top of your head or just hold you there in general while you watch movies on his laptop

Your height is just so convenient for him

Also lowkey loves having to grab things off the top shelf for you and won’t change his habit of putting things up there so he can still grab them for you

One time tho he came into the kitchen to see you climbing onto the counter to grab something from the top shelf and he thought it was cute at the time until he had a bad dream that night about you falling and getting hurt somehow absjskakjdjd

Suddenly things are a bit easier to reach around the house...

Also a guy who loves walks :) early morning ones to school were his favorite cause they always started his day off ~right

Your vibe reminds me of...

I hope you liked this!!! I’d love to hear your thoughts! Good day ⛈ anon!

Requests are open until February 26th 8:00 pm PST

-🐇out

#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyu requests #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu matchups #🐇200 follower event❣️#akaashi x reader #akaashi headcanons #hq akaashi #akaashi hcs #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi keiji #haikyuu keiji akaashi #sugawara x reader #sugawara koushi #sugawara headcanon #hq sugawara

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marie-dufresne · 5 years ago

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It’s a Girl!

Marie was running away.

She wasn’t sure where she was going yet, but there was only so many more days she could ignore the social worker that came calling before she was found, dragged into the hands of the government and dropped into a group home for the next three years.

There were two choices for girls like her. The first was allow this to happen. She’d never get adopted; people rarely adopt teenagers, and three days into being fifteen, her chances weren’t high. She was a teenager with a record. She had no chance of getting a family.

The second was to hit the streets and try to make her own way in life and this was exactly what she planned to do. She didn’t have much of an education but she had common sense, a mind for numbers, and a good work ethic. If she could get out of this town, she’d drop off the radar and she’d be fine.

Mostly.

She’d gathered a backpack of necessities (clothes mostly, and however many hair ties she managed to scrounge up), packed a smaller sheep plushie with a zipper on it’s back with her personal items (makeup, a pink pen with a fluffball on the top, the rest of Claire’s stolen Xanax) and was scrounging through the apartment for anything she could pawn.

Claire had some jewelry she’d conned boyfriends out of. It might have been gold, some of it was at least silver. There were a few glass pipes and bowls laying around that were pretty enough to sell off on the street, and now she was going through her mother’s purse.

So far she’d found coins which could be good for bus fare if she needed it, twenty seven dollars in various wads, too many condoms, and random, useless junk her mother had probably shoved in there when she was high.

Claire’s ‘lucky’ packs of cigarettes had been in there and as Marie sat on the floor tapping her fingers on the coffee table, she stared at it. Her mother had always carried it around but never smoked from it. Who carried around a pack of cigarettes they weren’t going to smoke?

…maybe they weren’t cigarettes.

Sitting up a bit she pulled the pack towards her, the box beaten a smushed from at least fifteen years of travel at the bottom of a junkie’s purse, but the smokes inside were pristine. She snapped one in half, emptying the contents onto the table, hoping for something, anything she could sell but it was just tobacco.

The next was the same. Then the next, until she shook the box in frustrations, the cigarettes tumbling out onto the table. With them, and quite unexpectedly, a business card fluttered down and she pulled back a little bit, brows furrowed.

It was old, discolored from where it’d been stored and the aesthetic of it all was simple and plain but still dated.

“Veld…Drago…oon…” she gave a little shrug, flipping the card over and muttering, “whoever you are.”

On the back, an address was written in Claire’s handwriting and then under that, underlined three times, ‘Marie’s father’.

“…what.”

As far as she had known, Claire didn’t know who her father was (though she had suspected it was her mother’s on again off again also estranged and sometimes murderous husband, Arthur) and had mostly been contented to accept the fact she had no dad. She’d grown up in a world where that was normal.

Now she had questions. So many question. Too many questions.

Why hadn’t Claire told her? Why hadn’t she ever met him? Why did she keep his information?

Did he even know she’d been born?

For all the questions it brought forth, there was one it answered.

“Now I know where to go.”

The address was in Miami. Miami. That was…she pulled out her phone, navigating through the shattered screen and inputting it into her maps.

An hour and a half away, not even. Well no…she didn’t have a car but…by bus it was still less than five hours. Even if she had to walk it wouldn’t be terrible.

It was closer than she wanted to go, but no one would be looking for her in Miami. She lived in one of the most dangerous cities in the state to begin with. If another crack whore’s kid fell off the map, well, it happens.

“Okay.”

The adrenaline was picking up now, and kicking in.

“Okay okay okay okay. We gotta go. We’re gonna go.”

Shoving the card into the plushie bag, she reached for her shoes (baby pink low top converse) and laced them hurriedly, slinging the backpack onto her back and picking up the lamb, taking one last look at the apartment to be double sure she hadn’t left anything behind, not that she owned much to begin with.

With a deep breath, she slammed the door and jogged down the stairs, into the sunshine of the late morning.

She closed out of her maps to save battery and after hitting the pawn shop, bought a bus ticket. The ride was uneventful and her heart raced out of paranoia, out of fear, out of excitement. Her mother was in prison awaiting trial, awaiting Marie’s visits, and yet for the first time ever, she’d chosen herself and left. She left without leaving a trace behind because she’d come to the conclusion that morning as she went through the apartment that Claire didn’t deserve her.

How many times had she complained she hadn’t been able to afford to abort her? Well here it was. She was child-free now.

The bus station in Miami was bustling. Marie had been here several times, usually on half-assed runaway trips with boys much older than herself and after a few days of thrills, always seemed to crawl back to her mother.

That wasn’t an option now, she reminded herself with a smile, letting the buzz of the crowd seep into her skin and excite her. She could live here, really. For all its dangers, Miami was beautiful and full of life, full of opportunity. Even if this man turned out not to be her father or, if he didn’t want her, she was old enough, experienced enough.

On a bench, she pulled up the address again on her phone, letting out a low hum as she used her fingers to look around the street view. It was…unassuming.

Unassuming was something new to her.

She’d expected a copy of where she’d come from. Either that or, given the card, some place…very nice. Maybe Claire had saved his information for blackmail, or to use Marie at some point as leverage. It was a very Claire thing to do, especially to someone who had money. This building looked…average.

She hailed a cab, and when she asked for the address, she waited for any sort of reaction, to judge the area.

“Coming home from college?” the driver asked, a cheery Cuban fellow, “alllll the kids are coming home now.”

…home? From….college? True, she could pass for older, and she did have a backpack on her, but college? Who could afford that?

“Oh, no I’m just uh…I was staying at my mom’s for a while.”

“Ah…I see.”

Thankfully, he made no further conversation and when she was deposited in front of the building, she felt her stomach turn. What if he wasn’t her father. What if he didn’t want her. What if he hated her?

She made her way towards the building, realizing she’d have to be buzzed in when a young man came out, an overly excited pitbull tugging at the leash despite his mantra of “wait, wait, wait, wait.”

He spotted Marie immediately, but didn’t size her up (also new) instead, held the door with his elbow and a rushed smile.

“Coming in?”

“Yeah,” she said, speeding up and catching the door, “thanks!”

Well that was…easier than she expected. She found the unit and with the business card in her hand, she knocked. It was light and timid and pathetic. Maybe he hadn’t heard.

What if he didn’t even live here anymore? It could have been at least fifteen years since Claire had seen him. In those fifteen years, Marie had lived in twelve different places. Who would live somewhere for all this time?

What if he was married. What if he had kids? She should go. No one had probably heard that knock anyway.

A dizziness washed over her and she wavered, stepping forward to catch her balance, sneaker thudding against the door, her head then following suit. Oh no. Now she couldn’t leave.

Well, maybe the unit was vacant.

No. Gosh Marie, no. We did not come here to chicken out or to hope for a reason to. There was a good man behind that door, there had to be. She needed there to be.

@exsiliumductoris

#exsiliumductoris #congratulations Papa #It's a Girl!

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alwaysdowntohidewithyou · 5 years ago

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Florence Welch Interview

Transcript of Florence Welch’s interview with John Seabrook for the New Yorker Festival.

October 11th, 2019.

New York, NY.

Edited for clarity.

John Seabrook: I’m going to properly introduce you because I think a woman this accomplished needs a proper introduction. For those of you who read the New Yorker this week, let me assure you that I wrote this myself, no machine helping me. In ten years as a band, Florence and the Machine have released four chart topping, award winning studio albums. Lungs, 2009, Ceremonials, 2011, How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful, 2015, and High as Hope last year. These many-layered works weave together a range of different styles, from the bands punky first single “Kiss With a Fist,” to the rich choral and percussive tapestries of songs like “Shake It Out,” to Neo-Soul such as “Where Is the Love” (sic), and to the startlingly honest lyrics of “Hunger.” Heartbreak and loneliness rarely feel as delightful and inviting as in a Florence Welch song. The music performs the very rare trick of remaining true to its indie roots while at the same time, sounding expansive and monumental. While British listeners sometimes look to Kate Bush as a musical antecedent, here in New York, we are maybe more inclined to think of Patti Smith, in her path-finding career as a poet who found a way to address the big issues of literature, death, love loneliness, and beauty in the idiom popular song. And we are especially inclined to think of you as following Patti tonight because you are literally sitting in the seat that Patti was warming only an hour ago.

The band has also released two live albums that established themselves as major festival headliners, with a sound big enough to fill the green fields of Glastonbury and deserts of Coachella—where the artist broke her foot performing in 2015. With lyrics intimate enough to touch each individual heart in the crowd of 100,000, Florence lent her extraordinary vocal talents to Calvin Harris’ “Sweet Nothing,” and her eye for clothes and visual imagery to the band’s 29 music videos. She has also recorded several outstanding covers including “Stand By Me,” “Tiny Dancer,” and Buddy Holly’s “Not Fade Away.” And finally, and most relevant to the discussion tonight, Florence is the author of this book, “Useless Magic,” which is a 2018 collection of her lyrics, poems, journal entries, and sketches, which will serve as our primary text for this evening. Here ends the introduction.

Florence Welch: (Laughs) Thank you so much for having me. Oh, British people find it really hard to hear the things that they’ve done.

J: I know, you’re so modest. It’s hard to hear all that.

F: Everyone’s cheering and I’m like, “Oh no.” This is my nightmare.

J: Let’s take a deep breath and not talk about your accomplishments any more.

F: Okay, good. That’s done, that’s done. (Laughs)

J: Let’s talk about—you’re on a bit of a hiatus at the present from touring. Can we start there? Talk about how that happened, where that came from.

F: Yeah, of course. Well, I definitely wanted to do the New Yorker, because I love the New Yorker so much. So, this was the last thing that I said yes to. I’m very glad I did, you guys are very loud! Yeah, the last—well, I’ve been touring, oh my gosh, I’ve been touring since I was twenty-one? And it is kind of a cycle of two years of—actually we did not stop touring between Lungs and Ceremonials, because we booked a U2 tour somewhere in the middle when we were supposed to be making the next record, and they were like, “You’ve got to do this. This is pretty big.” Like, oh. Okay. And you know, that was a big thing that helped get us going in America. But I was trying to make Ceremonials as well, so yeah, Lungs and Ceremonials was just sort of one—ugh, I don’t know how long that was. Like five years of touring?

And then I had a break. And it was also kind of a breakdown (laughs). Which is what happens when you don’t stop touring for five years. But actually, I don’t know. I don’t think that was because of the touring, I think it was then when the touring stopped, all the structures that I’d been using...with touring you’re kind of very taken care of, so you can be quite a high functioning fuck-up, which is what I was. Very high functioning, but so self-destructive and with such a lack of any will to take care of myself. People take care of you on tour. Like, if you show up and do the show, people get you dressed, and you ripped all your clothes, and they’ll carry you to a plane. The thing is that I never messed up any shows, which was weird. Like I would mess up hotel rooms, and my whole life, and my relationships, and blah blah blah. But never the shows, so, I don’t know what that was about (laughs).

Then I went back on tour for How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful, after my break slash breakdown, and that was the first tour that I’d done sober and...yeah, it was amazing. The whole process of that record and kind of how heartbroken I was not just over a relationship, but also the breakdown of my relationship with partying and how those things that I thought defined me didn’t work anymore.

And this person really didn’t want to go out with me. Which now, in hindsight, I really don’t blame them for because I don’t know if you want to date someone who shows up at your house with a bottle of vodka shouting, “Why will you not go out with me?” And they’re like, “Because of this. All of this.” And I’m like, “I don’t understand!” Now I kind of really respect them for that. Like, “Oh wow, ‘cause like you had a sense of self, and you had self-respect, I get it!” But yeah, How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful, was a huge healing process, and when I came to the end of it, I did this thing where I dove straight into making High as Hope. I think I’m a person who works in extremes, so again, I didn’t stop working for...I just didn’t stop. I don’t know how to relax. I think that’s probably clear, so I started making High as Hope immediately and that meant that the next tour came around really fast. Although I would say that these shows that I’ve just done have been my favorite I’ve ever done, I loved them.

J: Where were they?

F: Well, all over the world. They were in loads of different places. But it was again, like a year and a half of travel and I’m not a natural traveler. Like I’m not—

J: You don’t like flying I think? F: Oh my god, I’m so scared of flying. It’s the worst! I had hypnotism on it and it wore off (laughs). Nobody told me that hypnotism wears off! Or I just think my anxiety is so powerful that it destroyed the hypnotism. It like, defeated it. I remember reading that the lead singer of The Liars is also really afraid of flying. I think it could be a lead singer thing as well, ‘cause you think that you are the center of the universe and if something really dramatic and catastrophic is going to happen, it should happen to you. So I think there’s a level of ego involved with the fear of flying that I’m hoping in time, I will dismantle.

I find travel in itself, and being away—especially without kind of the crutch of, you know, partying—I get lonely and it’s hard. Although I love the shows and performing, it’s such a big part of me, I...after this tour, I was just worn out by the travel. I was like, I just need to not get on planes for awhile, and I really need to just stay in one place, and try and be like, a human, because although performing runs in my veins, touring is so monotonous, and it starts to feel like you’re losing your mind—and I don’t have much left to lose. So I need it.

J: And there really isn’t any better way to do it probably, right?

F: I keep wondering. I was like, to my manager, “I’m thirty-three, I can’t sleep on a bus anymore!” She’s like, “This is how it is.” You know, I keep trying to think of ways to make it more holistic, but we’ve tried everything and there’s just no getting around the travel because people want to see you, and I’m so lucky to have the fan base in so many places that I do, and I appreciate people and I want to see them. But it means you’re going to have to sleep on a moving vehicle. Which is fucking weird (laughs). When you’re not passed out drunk it’s weird.

J: It’s not like, you curl up in your bunk and the bus takes off and you wake up in the next place the next morning?

F: I don’t know, my brain is so juttery anyway, like sleeping on something that is juttery is a nightmare for me. When I’m trying to sleep on a bus, I’m already someone who tends to get really stuck in their head, and my head is a place that rattles around, so to be in the actual physical representation of that every night, is like a nightmare. I’ve always had a hard time sleeping since I was a kid, and I’m a really light sleeper, always kind of dreaming. I don’t know if I ever get that deep, so yeah. Some things are easier when you can just pass out drunk.

J: Right. We’ll get to that part. Let’s jump back to the beginning of your career. We’re talking about a decade here, so it’s really not a great deal of time but you hit the ground running. I thought we would sort of go through your life by talking about a few songs and your professional life. We’re gonna start with “Dog Days Are Over,” which isn’t the first single I think from the album. I think—

F: “Kiss With a Fist,” yeah.

J: In a way, this is the second single, but perhaps ultimately the bigger hit from the album. I’m not sure, but I feel like this is a song where you first discovered your sound? Or at least for me, I feel like this is where I first heard your sound. Maybe for a lot of us. So I wondered if you could talk about how this song happened, and the lyrics are up here. We can talk about a few of those too. But talk a little, generally, about where this song came from, and how it fit into what work you’d been doing at the time.

F: Ehm, what was I doing? I think I was still at art college, and I—or maybe I’d dropped out?

J: You were at Camberwell College of the Arts, for one year.

F: I wasn’t a very committed art student. I made a lot of installations. I already loved patterns and fabrics and fake flowers and I’d make these big installations, and then kind of sleep in them, and pretend it was an art piece—I was just really hungover. Like, “It’s art! It’s definitely art. Don’t touch it!” I was making flyers for the first Florence and the Machine shows using the photocopier. So I’m sorry for the use of supplies and then not handing anything in.

I’d met Isa of “Isa Machine” fame. She is amazing and we kind of grew up together. She used to babysit my cousin, and then we kind of lost touch. So in South London, for awhile there was a big art collective that squatted the buildings that I lived really near, so when I was a teenager I used to break into all the squat parties, and they would bring all these christmas trees, and everyone would be wearing like, bin bags and crazy outfits, and I was like, “Oh I found them! I found my people!” I was at one of those parties and Isa was there. She was the DJ. She called herself “Laydee Isa,” but it had like seven E’s and seven Z’s. She was like “Oh, I used to babysit your cousin!” And I was like, “Heeey!” I was kind of out of it, I think. She said she had a studio, and that I should come down and make a song.

At the time, there were so many boys in bands. It was around that time of The Libertines, and The White Stripes, and The Strokes—it was a very band oriented time. So I had been writing some songs but because everything was on guitar, and I didn’t know how to play guitar, I just assumed that I would be a singer in someone else’s band, or I’d be a front-woman. I think there was a kind of internalized self-doubt as well. I know I’m not a trained musician. I didn’t have the attention span to sit and learn the piano, or the focus. I was good at singing. I think my attention span doesn’t work...I was like, “I’m already good at this thing.” I could never focus enough to properly learn, which I really regret, actually. I really regret that. So I didn’t have the sort of—I didn’t have the idea that I could make my own band basically. I thought I would be a front-person for someone else’s, but then I started writing songs, and there were so many guitarists about, and that’s how I wrote “Kiss With a Fist.”

They were kind of little gothic fairytales. There’s so much guilt and drama involved—I don’t know what I was. It was kind of like, I think I was already trying to process...I just think from an early age, I felt so much shame, and I don’t really know why. I don’t know where that came from. I think those songs were a way of trying to process what I felt was wrong about me, and through these metaphors—like, this idea that you’d done something terrible, but a bird has seen you do it. So you get the bird, and kill the bird and you eat it so that it can’t tell anybody what you did. I don’t know what the fuck I was doing. But then, you go to sleep, and you’re like, “It’s fine, I got the guy, I’m good.” But when you wake up, you try to speak, and all that comes out of your mouth is the bird singing what you did, and that’s the only thing you can say—which is so dark for a nineteen year old. I think I was just snogging people I wasn’t supposed to or something. But even before, I always felt sort of sensitive as a kid, and I don’t know. I felt like other people had a ticket to kind of get through life that I didn’t know. And how did you get that thing? And everyone seems to have a map, and I don’t. I think these songs were a way of trying to express through these little metaphors how it felt. I was already really obsessed with death in the way that you are as a teenager, and kind of imagining my own funeral all the time. I put these songs with guitars, ‘cause that’s what was around, so that would be like “Birdsong,” in which I wrote with Dev Hynes of Blood Orange. ‘Cause there were so many musicians about—like Kid Harpoon was around, Dev was playing with the Test Icicles at the time, and you could kind of play with anyone. Me and Dev were just sitting in the top room of a pub, and we kind of came up with that song just before we did a show together. That’s kind of how I would make the songs with whoever was around. Isa was sort of the first person who gave me the instrument, who was like, “Why don’t you just try and do something on this?” We called it the “shit keyboard,” it cost like 100 pounds, it was a Yamaha. It burned in a fire!

J: Before or after you used it?

F: After! It burned in a fire. She was the first person who—I think as well because she was another young woman, I think, as a female songwriter...I don’t know if this comes from, like—I had to kind of unlearn deference. I had to really stop deferring. That’s something that’s quite hard, especially when most of the people I was writing with were male. I was instinctively deferring because I was a young woman. I think with Isa, we were kind of the same age, and we kind of bossed each other around! There wasn’t any sort of power imbalance or anything. So she handed me this keyboard and she’s like, “Just do what you want.” The first song that I actually wrote, which you can tell because it’s just an ascending scale, was “Between Two Lungs,” and that was kind of the first thing that sort of felt like it really came truly from me. I was so excited by that, then that the next song we wrote was “Dog Days.” That was like, the first two. They’re not the most complicated chords, but because I never fucking played anything, I thought they were amazing! I was just like, “I’m making this sound? Can you hear this?” Like yeah, it’s fucking piano. It makes that sound for everybody. But because I was the one getting to put them in order and stuff, I just thought like, “This sounds incredible.” She only had like a little...it was in Crystal Palace, which is in South London, we didn’t really have any equipment. We stole drums from someone. The sound of the drums—which I now realize is the same beat as “People Have the Power” (Claps hands to “Dog Days'' percussive rhythm). Which is what we were doing in Patti’s show. We used pens and stuff, and it was kind of, the feeling of that song just came from a lot of enthusiasm, but not really any skill or equipment. So, that’s how it came about.

J: Can I ask you a little bit about the words in the song? “Happiness hit her like a train on a track,” and then later, “happiness hits her like a bullet in the back.” Is it happiness that’s chasing her here? Because it sounds like a celebratory song. Like, the dog days are over and now we’re gonna have some fun! But then it seems like happiness is the thing that’s after her.

F: Well it kind of always was in my mind because I would have such extreme feelings of joy but then I would end up staying out for like three days, so the happiness would always come back down to just terror and panic. I also think that my joy and excitement switch is very close to my panic switch, and I sometimes I don’t know which one is going to go. I think somehow I also equated—I was very mistrustful of happiness, and I think already by the time I was writing the song, I was a very messy person. Not like, untidy, but kind of messy emotionally. I think I’d already done quite a lot of damage to myself and others by that time. We start young in England. By the time I wrote this song, I think I was already, like...yeah, happiness hit her, like a bullet in the back, struck from a great height, by someone who should’ve known better than that. It was sort of like, I didn’t deserve this. You should know better, and I also knew I wanted to be a singer and a performer, and there is this sense that you’ve been struck from a great height, but you are the fucking wrong person (laughs).

J: Huh… okay (laughs). Let’s go from there into writing songs versus writing poetry, because the book is mainly songs, but actually there are poems in the back, and the preface has this interesting line, which I will read. “The act of singing gives the most mundane words and phrases reverence and glory, you can make a shrine out of anything.” I was just wondering, are there certain poems that don’t become songs, and why? Is there something that makes it a song, and something that makes it a poem?

F: I think the first things that I ever started writing when I was a kid was poetry. I mean it wasn’t good, but when I was seven or eight, I was writing poetry. Then I think when I started to think about actually writing my own poetry—like High as Hope is actually an album formed out of poems to begin with. It was a friend of mine called Robert Montgomery who was...he’s a poet, but also a visual artist, and he takes his poems and he turns them into big art pieces with neon lights, and he had said to me, “I think you’re a poet, and I think you should try and write some poetry.” So with that encouragement, I was like, “Okay, okay. I’ll try.” The first thing that I wrote, that wasn’t consciously in mind as a song, but it was a poem, was just a list of things that I thought I couldn’t put into a song.

J: That’s in here! That’s very interesting.

F: Yeah, it’s about getting kicked out of Topshop for drinking Rosé in the changing rooms. I was like, “I don’t know. It doesn’t sing well. So I guess it’s going here.”

J: But you also said in this poem that is not a song, “I’m not sure I can put these things into a song, these muddy trinkets, not beautiful enough. Too bloody and ragged. I always felt the songs should transcend the swamp.” F: Yeah, I think there was a way that I could use metaphor and my imagination to kind of beautify the things that had happened to me, or that I’d done, and in a way kind of own them. Like, when I talk about giving things reverence, I never wanted to actually have the songs written down because I thought that if you saw how sometimes ordinary some of the words are—like the word “kitchen sink” is in “Dog Days,” but when you’re singing something you’re turning it into a hymn almost. You’re giving it a spiritual quality, so I was worried that if the songs were written down, they would maybe lose that. So when I was writing, and I know it’s a song, I feel as if there’s a character or something that’s coming through me that’s bigger than me, and has very big ideas. It’s quite clear on things, kind of understands the bigger questions and I just have to let it happen. So when I was writing poetry, it was a different voice, and it felt like it was almost an even more personal voice because these things were just going to stay on the page. They weren’t going to be viewed with the grandeur of song. They were just going to live there, and who is that person? The drunk Topshop person?

J: You even talked about that—“This new voice, this me voice, is it conversational? Confessional?” Actually there is a poem (New York Poem (for Polly)) I put up here. This is one of the poems from the book. It’s a beautiful poem and it also has your parents and New York in it. So I thought it would give us a jumping off point for your parents. Your mother and father both appear in several of your songs, and have been part of your life. Your mother is a renaissance scholar...

F: Yeah, she is. She’s very smart.

J: And what’s her focus? What’s her specialty?

F: Her focus is the renaissance, above all else. I think even in our childhood her focus was definitely the renaissance (laughs). She’s written four or five books on renaissance studies. It’s funny, she’s always having...she’s always horrified by my exquisitiveness (sic), and how much I love clothes, and bags. But I’m like, “You write books on renaissance shopping, and when we go to museums, I have to stop you from touching things. You love stuff too! Just stuff in the past.” So she’s very interested in what people wore, and textiles, and how people shopped, so she’s read a lot of books about that. And I love shopping too, mom!

J: Didn’t she say to you, when you said you could remember every single outfit you wore, “What a horrible waste of a brain?”

F: (Laughs). I was like, “Oh, you know how I remember things mom? I remember things by what outfit I wore.” She went, “Oh what a waste of your brain.” I was dyslexic as a kid, and she’s worked so hard to get into the upper echelons of academia, and she just keeps getting more and more titles that I can’t even remember now.

J: She’s a provost.

F: Oh, she’s a provost! She’s a provost, yeah, but it just keeps going up. So I don’t know—

J: Dean?

F: No, she’s been that, yup. But I think it’s higher now.

J: So what’s next, chancellor?

F: I think that’s next! But she’s such an impressive person; she would tell me that when I was a baby she was trying to finish papers, or finish books, and she would rest me on a photocopier—it seems like me and my mum both love photocopiers. She just kept working, but I think...none of her children went into academia, and she’s a huge advocate for higher education. That was something that...I was really dyslexic when I was in school, and I couldn’t spell and I struggled at school. I mean, I still don’t think I can do my times tables. Numbers is like a foreign language to me. She’s very staunch; she’s so within herself. She’s incredibly strong, she’s been through so much. I always felt like I was unacademic, emotional, and creative, and sometimes she would look at me as if she had given birth to an octopus. Like, “What is this thing?” I always really looked up to her though, for her drive and her work ethic, and how much she...we’re both very hard workers, I think. I definitely got that from her. And obviously her love of the renaissance has affected me (laughs).

J: And your father comes from, well a journalism family, right? His father was the editor of The Spectator?

F: He was the editor of The Telegraph. I think maybe and The Spectator. I think maybe both, yeah.

J: Okay. And he was a frustrated writer? Or a wishy was-writer, became an advertising guy?

F: Yeah, I think my father is incredibly charming and charismatic and he should have been a performer, really. He is a sort of poet as well, and he was always so imaginative, and would tell me stories when I was a kid that he would then...he was like, “I’m writing a book now!” He moved to Russia when I was fourteen to write a Russian crime novel that my mother tries to pin all my therapy on. Like, I think there’s other stuff. Like not just Dad moving to Russia to write a spy novel, I think there’s other things at play.

J: Did that in fact have a big effect on you?

F: I don’t think it was just that (laughs). I think she’s deflecting slightly. He’s a really creative person and actually he was much more encouraging of me going into the arts. My mother was so desperate for me to go to university. She just didn’t see music. She saw music as a dangerous career, it wasn’t a “forever” career, she was worried I was going to get hurt. She was like, “Get a degree, get some stability, and then do your music thing.” She would, every time I got paid, be like, “It’s not forever money. Put that away.”

But my father, he was always—I mean they’re divorced, so they were like two sides of, you know—they had very different opinions about lots of things. So they didn’t work together. He’s a true bohemian at heart, and he tour-managed us for our whole tour that we did with MGMT around Europe, and England. He did it in his camper-van! MGMT offered us this tour, and it was the first tour we’d ever got. It was a huge break for us actually. We didn’t have any money, and we couldn’t afford a tour bus, so my dad took his sundance camper-van, and we drove all the way around Europe! I mean, MGMT are out there, but I think they thought we were really crazy. So we would just show up there, pots and pans clanking, like, “We’re here!” The first show we did—I mean, I did the show as an early, pre-Lungs era shows where I’d be wearing one of Rob’s t-shirts, drunk and screaming and that was the show. It was excellent (laughs). Then I fell off some speaker stacks. We all had to share a dressing room, as well. That was really cute. Then MGMT came off stage after that show, and they all came off stage, and they’re all like, “Oh my god. The ghost Andy Worhol was in the fucking audience.” Then my dad walked in.

J: Oh, that was your dad? F: It was my dad! Because he had this grey hair, and he kind of dressed as an Andy Worhol, and was right up front. I was like, “Yeah, this is my father, who is managing us.” Then I moved from the tour bus, and then I brought my girlfriend on tour with me. I was like, “Yeah, just come with us!” We got banned from MGMT’s tour bus for being a bad influence (laughs). Which, if you know MGMT, that’s a big achievement.

J: Yeah, that’s a big achievement. Congratulations! Well that gets me into the next subject, which is drinking. Which we both have in common.

F: (Laughs) J: So after the success of Lungs, you were thrown into the world of success and fashion. In particular, you became a darling of fashion. You did the costume ball—anyway, when you read your interviews from that time, you bragfully...in interviews you’re falling apart! You’re drinking at your hotel—you set your hotel room at the Bowery hotel on fire? But the bar bill was more than the hotel damage cost!

F: Yeah, it is (laughs).

J: Anyway, I guess it’s not surprising that with this life came drinking, but it got to a point where it was not manageable.

F: Yeah, I remember waking up and I mean, when you wake up and there’s a huge flame mark on the side of your room, but you’ve been asleep in that room, and you’ve got to figure out where it came from, you’re like, “Was there a fire? And I slept through it? Dope.” Like that is really...I called my publicist at the time, and was like, “Something’s happened!” He was like, “Oh my god, yes, ‘cause there’s a huge bill on my credit card.” I was like, “I think it was the fire.” That was the bar tab. The fire was cheaper than the bar tab.

It was hard. I’ve grown up in South London, and that whole scene is like punk on a pirate ship, it’s sort of pirate folk, and everyone fends for themselves, and the whole gig is like an extended drinking game where you just have to play in the middle. And the game carries on. It was just like an interlude. That is the scene that I grew up in, and I was kind of insecure, I think, about singing pop music.

J: In your family? F: Just in general, and I kind of thought as a way to subvert that, I would just party the hardest. I think as it was a very kind of male dominated scene—like the indie scene that I came up in—it was also a way to kind of outdo everyone. I was very proud of the fact that I could drink as much—and more—than all of the guys. I was the only woman on the first NME tour, and we were opening and they were fucking terrified of me. I think I came into the second show with a black eye, dressed as a bat, jumping off things. I think that’s kind of what I understood, that that was rock and roll, and if you couldn’t go the hardest, you were letting rock and roll down. You were letting these legendary people down.

I was someone who struggled with hangovers, just because I could go...I had insane endurance, but also people would come up to me who I thought were the craziest drinkers and drug-takers I’d ever met, and be like, “Woah. You go harder than anyone I’ve ever met!” I was like, “Oh my god.” But I’ve always had a lot of energy, but I think really why I would stay out for so long is my...you know that sense of shame I spoke about in the beginning? That was there before any of the drinking and the drugs. I already had that. Then to escape that, you know, it would give me an escape from that, but the things I did, or the things I would say, or the way I would treat people just confirmed the way that I felt as a kid. It was just like, you are bad. There is something wrong with you, and then I would carry on trying to escape it in that way, but it would just keep getting worse.

My psyche is pretty fragile; I’m not actually someone who should have a lot of stimulants. They gave me a vitamin shot today, and I’m like, “I’m fucked. I’m high on vitamins! I’m going to have to go to hospital for vitamin overdose!” That’s from a b12 shot. So I don’t know what I thought I was doing when I was partying. Some people are tough, I’m kind of a fragile person. I have a fragile sense of self. The hangovers that I had didn’t seem normal, they were like, “I’m dying. I can’t think, I can’t breathe, like I feel like my skin is—” Maybe it’s ‘cause I drank more than everyone else? I don’t know, but it’s a particular quality that was telling me this does not work for me, but I kept doing it, again and again, and it was always the same feeling. You’ve been doing that in whatever way since you were fourteen, and by the time you get to 27, it’s just—ugh. I didn’t want to feel that way anymore, and it was so repetitive. At some point, the fun bit had gone. As much as I tried to get it back, I just couldn’t. When the fun goes, I’m sorry to tell you if any of you are umming and ahhing, it does not come back. The first year that I stopped, I felt like I’d really lost a really big part of who I was, and how I understood myself. I also felt like I was letting down rock and roll history ‘cause I couldn’t cope. I had to kind of rebuild from scratch a little bit. The thing is that now, I don’t know, it’s almost like the idea of rock and roll that we had...we’ve seen it so many times, it doesn’t end well. I don’t want to be part of that story. J: The 27 year old story.

F: Yeah, I was 27 when I stopped and my mum, literally the speech she gave at my party, where I’d arrived already out of my mind drunk; like I was on the table and she was trying to make a speech. She was like, “Please, just keep her alive. Please.” I laughed about it at the time, but if I think about it now it makes me feel so sad for my mum and how scared she must have been. I feel like at that point there’s...this poem is kind of about that, because I felt like there was a split, there is the person who carried on partying, and didn’t come back. So there’s this ghost version of me. Then there was the person who got to carry on living, and doing the things that I’ve done. It really feels much more rock and roll than anything I ever did when I was drinking. I was doing shows, and connecting with people, and that to me—especially with everything going on in the world—to be conscious and to be present and to really feel what’s going on, even though it’s painful, it feels much more like a truly reborn spirit of rock and roll. It feels like that’s what it should be about right now.

J: The last album was sober, and this song is a remarkable song. It’s maybe not specifically about drinking, but it’s confessional nature I think is what’s a part of whatever transformation you went through. So could you have written [Hunger] as a drinking person? Or do you feel something changed in your songwriting?

F: Oh my god, no. I could have never, ever. I don’t think I could have written this song. I couldn’t have even written this for How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful. In the recording of How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful, I was sober but a lot of the songs weren’t sober because I’d written them when I was drinking, so it was like trying to pull things that were just a big mess. Like, “Okay.” I was in a terrible state. In your first year of your sobriety you’re just insane. So I definitely couldn’t have written it then, but sort of four years down the line, what started to happen was I decided to see underneath—’cause when you’re out there drinking there’s so much surface chaos. You literally can’t see beyond what you did last night as you’re trying to clean that up, and make sure nobody finds out what happened, and who saw? And was there a camera phone? You’re just living in this constant...you can’t ever get any further than the drama that just happened yesterday. So after some time, and some time getting to re-know myself, I started looking at the stuff that was underneath that, that was at the core of it. That’s when I felt able to write this song. I think also I just wasn’t so ashamed of myself at the time. When you’re drinking like I was, you carry around so much shame, and so much of that has lifted that I felt able to say and be honest about things that I just never, ever would have.

When I was really in disordered eating, I would make pacts to myself every night that I will never tell anyone. That was the thing. You can carry on what you’re doing, but you can never tell. Living with that kind of—

J: You kept that promise, because I think when your sister saw this song, she read the first lines, and said she never knew.

F: No, she didn’t. Like, my mum didn’t know. My sister was like, “You better tell mom. You’re putting this out as a big pop song.” I was terrified. I was so scared. I luckily had really good people around. I had my manager, Hannah Giannoulis; she heard this song, and she… I was doing it as a thought experiment. I was never going to release it. I was like, “This is an experiment. This is not for public consumption.” And she heard it, and was like, “This is a really important song.” I was really scared. I was so scared of anger. I’m really bad with anger anyway, but I think it’s because I have so many years of internalized anger against myself for what I was doing, or the way I was behaving that to say it, I expected anger. I expected people to be furious with me for putting something like this out there in a song. I tried to put it off, I pushed back the whole touring schedule. Actually when it was released, people were so kind. I don’t think I gave people enough credit. It was so liberating and it changed me as a performer actually, because once you’ve said your most shameful thing, it’s almost like you’ve got nothing left to lose. So the performances just became so much more open and free, and also when the people who listen to your music accept you at your worst, it is the most beautiful thing. I felt so connected with people on this tour. I’m so grateful to everyone.

#florence welch #florence + the machine #fatm #edited for clarity aka removing florence's adorable rambling that she always does while she collects her thoughts #i love this interview so so much but the quality is pretty poor and therefore pretty inaccessible to non-fluent engl speakers and hoh people #so i put my typing skills to work #if there are any other interviews you'd like transcribed let me know!#this is how i'm putting off writing oof oof oof #also really cant tell if she's saying mom or mum? it sounds like when shes referring to her she says mum #but then if shes speaking to her its mom

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soundofseventeen · 5 years ago

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When I Grow Up 1.5 (Lee Seokmin)

I am both in my soft emo hours and unsure when I’ll post again, so here it is! If you haven’t read the first part yet, that’s totally fine, but it ties together with this one hence why it’s short!

Word count: 2366

You tapped your fingers against the table nervously. Seokmin wouldn’t just stand you up, especially when he was the one who placed the reservation and because it was his idea to meet up with you. Is this what you got for readily agreeing to meet the boy? The waiter had been fairly kind to you, letting you know everything was okay and that this happened often...the boys running late that is. But they always showed up. He poured you a glass of wine while you waited and the sweet taste calmed your nerves a little. You also ate some of the breadsticks so the alcohol wouldn’t affect you. He hadn’t texted you or given you any other indication that he was on his way over.

But before you could leave, he came running to your table, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. “I’m sorry,” he panted. “I was getting ready to come over….when Soonyoung hyung called….me about working on one...of my dance routines and time flew by. I left mid practice.” He reaches into his flannel and pulled out a rumpled yellow daisy....a couple stray petals falling. “I picked this….for you before….I came in.”

Seokmin’s thoughtfulness hadn’t gone away, you noted. You accepted it graciously and he finally sat down. “Thank you for waiting,” he said when he could breathe. “I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done if you weren’t here.”

“The thought crossed my mind,” you admitted. “The waiter was quick to get me to stay.”

“Yeah?” He seemed surprised. “I mean we’ve lost our reservations a couple of times with how late we were but this, this is the best restaurant in town.”

You twirled the wine glass between your fingertips, believing him. “I can drink to that.” He didn’t have to know that was more expensive than everything in your house put together...including your slowly growing kpop collection.

“Great.” He removed the flannel leaving him in a plain white shirt, and you had to remind yourself to breathe. He was your friend, someone you used to watch, someone who grew up in front of your eyes. “So tell me, Y/N, what have you been up to since the last time I saw you.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the way he still addressed you so casually, especially with that smile he wore. “Well, I finally moved out of Yongin.” Obviously. Why else would you be there?

“What do you do now?” He thanked the waiter for his glass of wine and he smiled at you both, letting you know he’d be back to take your order.

“I'm studying psychology but right now I work at a gardening store.” You realized how much your dreams had changed now that you thought about it. You remembered telling him how you wanted to be a teacher and own your own public library.

“That’s cool,” he nodded, and you briefly wondered if he thought the same thing you did. “And how are your friends?”

“I hope they’re good. I haven’t seen them in a couple weeks. Life has been hectic...today was my first free day in awhile, and well I met you. How about you Seok? Now is the idol life treating you?” If you kept him talking, it’d be easier not to let your attraction for him get in the way.

“It’s been so fun!” He replied happily. “I didn’t think I could ever be friends with so many people! And Carats really love us! It seems like a distant dream that I thought I couldn’t do something like this.” The wistful expression lingered for a moment and then his usual smile returned. “We go on tour a lot and we practice nonstop! Woozi hyung really knows how to put a song together and give us lines so it comes out perfect!”

“You’re living the dream,” you mused, raising your wine glass and taking a sip. “I’m very happy for you. You have a gift and you used it wisely.”

Seokmin requested another bottle of wine once the waiter wrote your orders down along with more appetizers as you caught up on the insignificant parts of your daily lives like how you completed your shopping for the week and how he chose to take a day from the gym because he didn’t seem to have as much time for more days. You didn’t know if the warmth was from the room or the way the alcohol coursed through your system but the constant blush on your cheeks from giving and receiving compliments felt nice, natural even. He kept you laughing as if you hadn’t been separated for years as he reminisced the details you thought he had forgotten, mostly because you did.

You thought you had been there a couple of hours but when the waiter abashedly told you it was almost midnight and they had to close soon, you were brought back to a sad reality where you and Seokmin would go your separate ways and tomorrow you’d go back to your normal life and he’d be an idol again and who knew when you’d cross paths again, assuming you were that lucky, that is.

“Gosh, has it really been that long?” He asked, handing the waiter his credit card to process their payment. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready to go just yet.”

There was the Seokmin you knew. He enjoyed people’s presence and wanted to spend as much time with them as possible. But you knew that if you didn’t end it here, it’d hurt more when actually said goodbye. You didn’t know why, but you wanted to spend more time with him, tomorrow if he had the chance or whenever the weekend called for it. You missed him a lot and finally felt like you had gotten the friend you always wished him to be. But still, you could feel the tug in your heart at rejecting his request.

“Actually Seokmin, I should probably get going. I have to work tomorrow and-”

“No worries. Can I at least take you home? I don’t want your boyfriend thinking that I left you by yourself.” He finally stood up and stretched, letting his bones crack in the process. “How is he anyway?”

“Good, he’s good.” At least according to his Facebook posts whenever you logged on. He got married and started a family, moving somewhere to Jeju City. You did remain amicable, even commenting how he and his husband looked adorable on their wedding day and he congratulated you when you moved into your own place...all via social media of course. “But we broke up before I moved to Gangnam. His family keeps him on his toes.”

“So you’re not seeing anyone?” He yelled goodnight to the host as he held the door open for you, and you just wanted to believe how hopeful he sounded.

“Not right now. I mean, I want to get back into it once my life gets a bit more stable, but right now, I’m content just doing whatever I like. That was something my last boyfriend told me before he pursued his coffee job dream in Japan. How about you?”

“Ohh, uh you know how it is. Dating is a little difficult when someone’s watching your every move.”

“Right, right. I read about how you got outed. I’m sorry.” You felt embarrassed for even asking now. One of the gossip magazines broke the news sometime during one of your midterms and the only reason you found out was because you heard someone screaming about it. (How you didn’t know you went to school with multiple Carats you didn’t know but then again, you didn’t exactly wear too much of their merch. It felt embarrassing in a way.)

“I mean, it’s over now, but I have to be careful about everything now.” He hailed a taxi and let you slide in first. “What’s your address so you can go home first?”

You gave it and then rode the way in silence, an unusual thing for DK. Every time you glanced over at him, he seemed to be lost in thought, the only light coming from his phone. You wanted to say something, anything before you never saw him again...unless he went on tour again. But you couldn’t with the butterflies making their way to your throat. You weren’t sure why you nervous but you knew you wanted to hold his hand.

The years had been very good to him in the time you been apart. You were staring but you couldn’t help it; the jawline cutting your something inside you, his moles being your favorite feature of his. You reached up to touch one, but when he turned, you chickened out and patted his head instead, loving the way his hair felt between your fingertips. It had always been his favorite method of comfort and your go-to whenever you didn’t know what else to do.

You saw when his eyes closed and he let out a hum of approval. “This feels good,” he said softly.

“Sorry, it’s a habit,” you apologized.

“I like it. It means you’re still comfortable with me.”

“You’re still Seokmin...you’re just famous.” Telling him that he was still somehow 10 years old to you didn’t feel right, and you knew it would’ve ruined the mood. “You’ve grown up well.”

“Have I made you proud yet?”

“Seokmin, you have no idea how proud I have been of you.”

“When I felt like nothing, I thought of you. You always helped me.”

There was that warmth that was at the restaurant. Did it follow you here or has it been there a while? You couldn’t be sure, but you liked the warm, tingly feeling. You wondered if he was feeling the same way you were right now. You sighed deeply through your nostrils when the cab stopped in front of your house. “Thank you, Seok. I hope we can keep bumping into you in the future, even if it’s just a few minutes.”

“Yeah, sure no problem. It was good to see you again.”

“You too.” You wondered if he’d give you any other sign he wanted to keep in touch with you, but he didn’t move so you finally got off, feeling somewhat disappointed. So you swallowed your pride. “Do you wanna come inside?”

He shook his head and you could feel the rejection taking it more personally than you should’ve. “You should probably go to sleep. You have to work and I do too. I’ll call you next time I’m free. How does that sound?”

You nodded, trying to ignore the stinging. Rationality was new. He normally would’ve jumped at the chance to spend more time with you, but that was years ago. He was grown up now, still a little naive but a good person nonetheless. He waved at you until you went inside and you let out another sigh. This time, missing him felt different. It was like an ache in your heart that you knew wouldn’t go away until you saw him again. And who knew when that would be again.

The knock on your door made you jump, and you weren’t sure why you were surprised when you saw Seokmin standing there.

He took your hands in his, not quite sure what to say. “Do you have a minute?”

You nodded, still being unable to speak. You just knew that you liked it.

“I missed you every day that I was away, and I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I know that if I went back home, even just to visit, I wouldn’t have found you there. I know that I’m still like a child, but I promise I have grown up. I’m not the kid you used to know.”

“I know,” you finally said. “I’ve known that for a long time.” He wasn’t the child who cried whenever you killed a fly anymore or the one who hid behind you whenever he was scared. He was now considered a man, one who was big and strong but still carried a fragile heart, and that made you so happy. All the vlives, the interviews, the persona he portrayed in front of people wasn’t so much of a stretch of the person you knew. You could even tell in the way he held your hands; he squeezed them, not enough to hurt you but to get your attention. “You have grown up.”

“Y/N, do you still see me like a kid?”

You shook your head, wondering when that changed. You met him when you were barely a preteen and he was still using a nightlight to keep the monsters away. How did he suddenly become someone who didn’t need so much looking after? He was just a kid at some point to you. When did he become someone you were interested in? “I...it’s been awhile since I have.”

He squeezed your hands again. “You don’t know how long I waited to hear you say that. Y/N, please, can I have a chance? It doesn’t have to be now, but whenever you’re ready?”

You nodded. “Seokmin, if you asked me right now, I wouldn’t say no.” You understood now that you wanted him to say this or something like it. “I’m scared though,” you found yourself whispering.

He hesitantly brought one of your hands to his lips, kissing the skin softly. “Why?”

“What if this is a dream? What if we mess this up? Seokmin, what if we rushed into this?” You tried not to listen to your heart disagreeing with you because maybe for once, it was right.

“Then tell me to take a step back and we’ll take it from there.”

“Aren’t you scared?”

“Only that you’ll slip away again.”

“Seokmin-”

He tilted your chin slowly, gazing at you until he could cup your cheek. He finally pressed his lips to yours, kissing you softly. “When we grow up, I hope you can see that we can do this right. Things, I think, will change. Just don’t you dare let loose of my hands.”

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nctxnation · 5 years ago

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A Haunting in Neo City

➳ Pairing: Renjun x Reader

➳ Genre: Romance | Buzzfeed Unsolved AU

➳ Word Count: 4.8k

➳ Warnings: Mild Language

➳ “Of all the problems and complications in my life, I had not expected love to be one of them.” ― Stacie Evans

You spun around in your chair, eyes tired of seeing the screen after finally finishing another article. The coffee mug next to you, empty, and your brain still sleep deprived and sluggish.

“You look like shit.”

You groaned, pressing send on the computer and turning to see your partner in crime, or more like partner in the occult and crime.

“Hello, to you too, Renjun,” You flicked a paper clip at him and he rolled his eyes as it bounced off his chest. “I’m just tired. Yeri and the girls’ invited me out for dinner last night.”

“Fun,” He grinned, jumping onto your desk, knocking papers to the side. “All I did last night was see how many pens Jisung could stuff in his mouth, nine, by the way.”

“I’m guessing you have some news for me,” Your eyes zeroed in on the stack of papers in his hands. “Let me guess a cursed doll that terrorizes its owners?”

“Been there, done that, remember?” He smiled down at you, eyes brightening at the prospect of a new adventure. Your heart fluttered at the eagerness in his tone and the sparkle of his eyes, “We’re going out to Neo City to scope out the Evermore Woods, aka the Haunted Woods of Neo City. There’s supposedly haunted cabins and we might just end up possessed, you in?”

Of course, you were in. You’d follow Renjun anywhere, he didn’t know that. You sure as hell didn’t want to submit to the sheer embarrassment and awkwardness that would ensue after disclosing your romantic feelings to your coworker and closest friend.

“Do I have a choice?” You grinned snatching the prints of research out of his grip. “We’re not gonna end up possessed, it has never happened.”

“You never know,” He was positively buzzing with excitement and it made you beam at how adorable he looked. “I have a feeling this one is gonna be a good episode though.”

“You always have the craziest shit up your sleeve,” You noted, glancing through rumored sightings of ghosts and wild stories that spurred from college students partying in the woods. “This is no exception. Sounds like a fun roadtrip to me.”

“Wait ‘til you read about the Ghost of Jieun they saw there, it’s some crazy shit I kid you not!”

Renjun went on the full blown spiel, trying to persuade you that the woods were indeed haunted and it wasn’t just a hoax. He did this all the time, seeing as he was the one who fully believed in the paranormal between the two of you. You were the one who decidedly followed him throughout his supernatural investigations sprinkling witty commentary as you weren’t as sold in any stuff like that.

You were often the cause of Renjun’s constant hysteria as you seldom kept quiet and continuously egged and taunted any ‘spirit’ that might be lurking. It got to the point Renjun would keep a small bottle of holy water in his car and occasionally spray you with it just to make sure you weren’t actually possessed.

A long ass story about some ghost later, Renjun was summoned by Jeno who needed help as Haechan had gotten his hand stuck up some tubing they were filming a video with. You took that as your cue to refill your empty coffee cup, to regain some life and have at least a semblance of a normal, functioning human being.

You however didn’t expect yourself to be cornered by Yeri and Yuta, who were looking far too devilish. Their evil smirking were making you want to add them to the list of possible people to perform an exorcism on, part of Renjun’s never ending list.

“So, you and Renjun looked pretty cosy there,” Yeri commented, subtly glancing at Yuta whose face only darkend with mischief.

“We’re partners on this ongoing project,” You deadpanned, pouring in some burning hot liquid into your mug. The steaming zest of life. “He literally has no choice now, the loser is stuck with me. We ordained it with a blood oath which is pretty on brand for us, I guess.”

Yuta cackled heartily, “No wonder you guys’ are in love. You have the same sense of humor.”

“Thanks,” The words processed in your brain slower than Internet Explorer. “Wait--what? In love? Renjun and me?”

“Am I speaking in Japanese?” Yuta winked at you, sipping his coffee so smugly you wanted to slap him. “So, when’s the wedding?”

“It’s not like that,” You began to feel uneasy, their staring was predator-like. “How many times do I have to spell it out to you guys? Renjun and me, we’re friends and co-workers, nothing more. So, we share a room every once in a while and have inside jokes, you and Winwin do too.”

“Mhmm sure,” Yeri shrugged it off, “One day we’ll get you to admit your love for each other.”

“Not gonna happen,” You gritted out, taking your mug and walking away as fast as you could so they couldn’t see the intense blush coloring your features.

“You better send a wedding invitation!” Yuta hollered as you rounded the corner and saw Renjun and Haechan laughing about his incident.

Your heart warmed as Renjun’s eyes met yours and you could have sworn you saw a fondness in his eyes that was only reserved for you. A small sliver of hope slithered its way into your heart, but you crushed it easily on account of it being your sleep deprived brain creating scenarios in your head that weren’t real.

Unbeknownst to you, Renjun sighed in aggravation. His little frown catching Haechan’s attention.

“You might as well tell Y/N you like them,” Haechan said as he watched your retreating figure.

“It’s not that easy,” Renjun admitted, “Y/N and me are a team, we have our own series and its doing really good. I don’t want to ruin any of that knowing they don’t feel the same.”

“You sure about that?” Haechan snorted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Renjun snapped, ready to put Haechan in headlock at any given offense.

“I mean the supernatural isn’t the only thing your blind to,” Haechan patted his friend’s shoulder and left, leaving Renjun more confused than before.

Renjun thought it was easier to be cornered by ghosts, demons, serial killers, and bizarre monsters than having to ever come close to admitting his feelings for you. Your friendship ran deep and he didn’t want to derail the dynamic he worked so hard to upkeep. Plus, he didn’t think you’d like him, you got along swimmingly due to the fact that you two instantly clicked. You were his best friend, in his eyes, telling you he wanted something more was severely scarier than facing ghouls.

The matters of the heart were always something terrifying.

Renjun placed his folder of information neatly on the table, eyes bright as he faced the camera. You sat next to him trying your best not to stare too much at him. You failed of course and you hoped your audience thought none of it. The comment section had a few comments littered about they way you looked at each other. The last thing you needed was your full blown heart eyes for Renjung to be the one thing your viewers discussed.

“This week we will be exploring the haunted cabins in the Neo City Evermore Woods.”

Gosh, even the way his voice went into professional mode was starting to sound immensely attractive to you.

“Do you think we'll see bears?” You asked, smirking at the frustrated sigh he let out. The edges of his lips turned upwards and that in itself was enough to have you glowing.

“The woods are crawling with ghosts and demons and you're worried about bears?” He chuckled, it was so like you. It was one of the many things he liked about you, even when it clashed with who he was.

“I just don't want to take my chances.”

“But you'll be okay with being possessed?” His eyes bulged out of his face and you giggled at how comical he looked.

“I'm being realistic. I guess we can trace a circle around us.”

“Of salt?”

“No, dirt like with a stick. For the bear, Renjun. Not the ghosts.”

“Isn't that from Spongebob?” He regarded you with sparkly eyes full of amusement.

He loved the way you made the tension in his body release, the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed at your own stupid jokes. He was seriously gone and he hoped it didn’t get captured on camera.

“Yeah that's where I get all my educational information from.”

He started wheezing and you joined in laughing at how silly you sounded. That was your role in this dynamic duo, he took everything regarding the supernatural seriously and you joked about it. You two were like yin and yang in a sense, you balanced each other out.

“Well, I get all my educational information from reliable sources,” Renjun began addressing the timeline of the Disappearance of Jieun, to telling about her murder and the hauntings of the lake and cabins.

You added your own commentary, smiling when the camera turned off and Renjun excitedly high fived you. Yup, you were way too deep.

“You were really funny out there,” He said, shuffling all his papers back into his folder, “Great stuff. I think I’m going to need an inhaler or something.”

“Nah, I think I sounded cringey,” You waved off his immediate protests, “I just wanted to take the time to say that you really put a lot of work into this series and it shows. You’re doing amazing, Renjun, and you deserve to know it.”

“Couldn’t do it without you?” He was too sweet, he was going to give you tooth decay.

“I don’t think--”

“No, of course you don’t see how great you are,” He interrupted you, placing a small warm hand on your shoulder. “But I see how great you are and I think you should know you make this series worth doing.”

“Renjun…”You swiped an imaginary tear off your cheek, ignoring the actual tears building up. “You really are the sweetest person in the office, don’t tell Jungwoo I said that.”

The weight of his compliment and your lack of though, had you wrapping his frame around your arms. He froze, but then melted into your hands.

“I’m serious you make the other half of Spooky Duo,” Renjun’s warmth blossomed a new kind of warmth in your heart, “I love you, Y/N...I mean, you’re the best partner in crime money can buy.”

“You threatened me to join you,” You sniffled, ignoring the fluttering feelings the eight letters he murmured brought you. “I had no choice in the matter, but you’re a great partner in crime...I love you too, Renjun.”

The love you felt was different than the love he felt that much you knew. No lack of sleep or caffeine rush was going to lull you into a false reality that you made up in your head. He didn’t feel the same.

There was beat, in which you both stood, arms tangled and breathing rough, staring into each other’s eyes. The moment was broken when Yuta and Yeri stumbled into your work room claiming a group meeting. You scrambled away from each other, your eyes having totally not been hyperfixed on his lips. Renjun cleared his throat and fist bumped you claiming you as the best friend he could ask for, before he went on his merry way.

You sighed, not trying hard enough to hide you own dejection, but you followed behind him. This, unfortunately, only roused Yuta and Yeri even more as they began gossiping about the office, murmuring about how any day now the Spooky Duo were finally going to get together.

It was dusk, night barely stretching across the horizon when you reached the edge of the Evermore Woods. The forest was cold, dark, and dense. It was the picturesque vision of any horror movie setting, horrific and nightmarish. It would certainly allow for your mind to conjure up the scariest of things to crawl from out of the forest, had you been creative enough for it. From the look in Renjun’s wide eyes, you can tell he felt the eeriness set in too.

The uneasiness reflected in Jeno and Jaemin’s eyes, your camera crew for tonight. Haechan and Yuta were already setting up things in the cabins. Renjun gulped and led the way down the path, Jeno and Jaemin stayed a couple of steps behind you two, jostling through the greenery with their equipment.

“Are you afraid of anything?” Renjun trekked through the foliage skillfully, the bright flashlight guiding him, although there was a subtle shake to his grip.

“Yeah, dying alone. Thank God I have you.” It was meant as a joke, but the weight of your words rang heavy and poignant in contrast to the eerie silence of the night.

Renjun deliberated for a moment, before following it up with a quip of his own, “I'll feed you to the demons before you even get to me.”

“That’s to say there’s even demons.”

“Our viewers think you’re a demon.” His eyes were playful, reeling you in and effectively turning you into mush.

“I can’t confirm nor deny that.” You squashed the butterflies easily, falling into step behind him.

“Do you think we’ll catch some real footage of something?”

“What if we see Bigfoot?”

“Wrong episode,” Renjun smiled, “Do these woods spook you out? What's that noise?”

“Do you know what a cricket is? Speaking of Bigfoot,” You poked his side and he flew up, sending you a glare, “Remember last time? Dude, you were practically crying.”

“I thought we were gonna die,” He defended, “How was I supposed to know Johnny was in a Bigfoot costume ready to scare the shit out of us.”

“That was the whole point,” You said as you finally reached the small lake where the Ghost of Jieun was rumored to be seen. “Are you down for a late night swim?”

Renjun focused his thermal camera on his surroundings, frowning as he caught sight of nothing out of the ordinary. “Should we try the spirit box? Maybe we can speak to her.”

“Chick was murdered by a man, she probably has some deep issues,” You said, plopping down on the wet grass that covered the lip of the lake. “She probably won’t want to speak to you. Or maybe she’s hiding in the cabins back there.”

Jeno and Jaemin propped up all the filming equipment and readied the camera to start filming. They signaled Renjun to get started and he immediately launched into ‘YouTuber Renjun’.

“We’re here at the Evermore Woods of Neo City. As you can see, we have Green Water Lake right behind me and some of the cabins that remained from the old campground. People say the Ghost of Jieun likes to linger around this general area, near the dock.”

“Wasn’t she killed by her lover?” You bounced a small pebble into the water and watched it ripple.

“Yeah, he dated her. He actually said she was too beautiful to be murdered and she agreed and used that as her tactic to live for one more minute.”

“I--what?”

“Yeah she was basically like ‘Please don't kill me, I’m too sexy for this disrespect.”

“Do you think he was like hahaha don't die your so sexy...oops sorry my knife fell into you.”

“We really shouldn't be joking about this here,” Renjun bit his lip, glancing around nervously.

“That sounds like a freaking skit from American Horror Story 1984! How am I supposed to take it seriously?”

“Because we're probably standing within the general vicinity of the crime.”

“Oh, shit.” You turned towards the cabins. “Should we go inside?”

“You want to go first or should I?” He asked, brushing off bits of grass of his pants and helping you up off the ground.

“The non-believer always goes first,” You smiled, pinching his cheek, “You, my dear, are last because you’ll most likely freak out and that will be great footage.”

“Please don’t summon anymore demons from the pits of hell.” Renjun begged, although you caught subtle lilt of amusement in his voice.

“Can’t make any promises,” You took the spirit box and thermal camera from him. “It’s not like anything exciting ever happens anyway.”

“Be careful.”

The words were simple but the way he said them, dripping with concern. You almost turned around to see his face, but you knew that if you didn’t stop walking towards the cabin, you’d kiss him then and there. Your feelings were growing and him being the sweet, caring person he was, wasn’t helping your case.

“Honestly, Renjun, is probably pissing his pants right now.” You told the camera Jeno was pointed at you, he agreed silently with a grin. “He’s always terrified, but is like an eager puppy wanting to catch anything.”

“Y/N probably raised hell in there, but what's new.” Renjun called out, opening the door to one of the cabins.

“I did no such thing...just told the ghost to screw itself for not singing Fergalicious to see if it's real or not.”

“Fergalicious wasn't even a thing back then.”

“Fergie withstands the fabric of time, it's all an illusion, Renjun.” You walked up to him and he made room for Jeno and you to enter. “Maybe something will come out if there’s more of us. It could want variety in its selection.”

The door closed behind you and all you could hear was the heavy breathing of everyone in the room. There was a freakish vibe to them, more so than when you were alone. Jeno swept the camera around the room, catching every cobweb and dust particle within view. Jaemin focused his camera on the Renjun and you waiting for some action.

“Okay, if there’s anyone--Jeiun or any other ghost can you say something to let us know you’re hear.” Renjun flipped the spirit box on and the room was flooded with static noise and the occasional gurgle of something possibly otherworldly.

“My name is Y/N and this my buddy Renjun,” You licked your lips, feeling the chill of the night creep up on you like a frosty hand. “For his sake, can you say something? Is it like in Ghost Whisper, that you have unfinished business and that’s why don’t cross over?”

“Ren…”

“Oh, fuck,” Renjun began to blubber.

“Y/N….” The voice was barely audible above the static, but still managed to erupt a trail of goosebumps down your arm. It clearly sounded like the voice of a girl. “Ren...jun…”

“Oh, hell no,” Renjun looked on the brink of a breakdown, he clambered towards the exit but Jeno blocked it. “Jeno, what the hell!”

“I...am...Jieun…”

A shrill noise pierced the ear and the static of the spirit box became muffled right after. Suddenly, Jeno began to move frenetically, casting the camera aside on a wooden table. His eyes were twitching and his arms waved in the air as if he were possessed.

“Jeno?” Jaemin’s voice was hoarse, he gently shook Jeno.

His eyes widened as Jeno glared down at him and then smacked him on the side, knocking him straight down. Jaemin whimpered from the brute force of his hit and recoiled as Jeno wailed violently and incoherently.

“J-Jeno?” Renjun grabbed your arm and shoved you behind his body, shielding you from any harm Jeno may cause. “Hey, man, if this is about you not getting to pick the location, we can work this out?”

Jaemin got up and quickly grabbed a hold of Jeno whose eyes were rolling back, his whole body contorting under the hold of Jaemin. Renjun pushed you back, slowly stumbling into the small closet in the corner of the room.

“I think he’s possessed!” Jaemin shouted, pinning Jeno down and waving you two off. “Take cover somewhere, I don’t think I can hold him down for much longer.”

Renjun hesitated, not believing his eyes. You pulled him back and ducked into the small closet, the only thing you could hear was the violent rustle of the wind outside and Jeno’s screeching.

“I shit you not if this is one of your pranks Y/N--”

“It’s n-not,” You stuttered, your whole body quivering like a feather in the breeze. “I swear to God Renjun, I don’t know what’s going on.”

Jaemin’s screaming ceased, there was silence, then a loud, thumping. Jeno’s fists hit the door in frantic, solid beats shaking the door with each hit.

“He loved me,” Jeno’s voice sounded distanted, higher pitched, “He said he loved me. He said I was beautiful, yet he killed me.”

“Jieun?” Renjun almost sounded sympathetic and you wanted to cry at how sweet he can be, but this wasn’t the time. “Is that you in Jeno? Look, I’m sorry for--”

“You’re not sorry!” Jeno’s thundering voice was full of anguish, “You mock me with your love!”

“What?” You cleared your throat, finding it hard to sound anything remotely human when all you wanted was to sob.

“Your love for each other,” Jeno as Jieun said, “I thought I had that with him. I was wrong. All I want to see is the love I never got.”

“Is she on crack?” You blurted unthinkingly causing Renjun to silence you with a frantic glare. “I mean, oh yeah, we have a very deep friendly affection.”

“Love,” possessed Jeno corrected, “Tell each other you love each other. You never know what life might throw at you. Enjoy love while you can.”

“Is that a threat Ghost Lady?” You didn’t know what to think of possessed Jeno’s words.

“I’ll let you out only if you speak your heart’s desire.”

“Heart’s desire?” Renjun laughed perturbed by the ghost’s insinuation. “This is crazy.”

“Confess your heart’s desire or face the consequences!” Jeno began banging on the door again and it looked like if he slammed his fist one more time, it would crumble under his sheer strength.

“Renjun do something!”

“Okay, okay, stop Jieun,” Shaking like a leaf, he turned to you ignoring the persistent badgering and grumbling from possessed Jeno. “Y/N, if we don’t make it out of this alive I’m sorry I dragged you into this place.”

The lack of heartfelt confessions only angered Jeno even more.

“Hey, Samara chill for a second, okay?” You looked at Renjun, taking his hand and squeezing it. “You don’t force me to go anywhere with you, truth is, I’d follow you to any stupid place you want to go. It doesn’t matter if I think it’s haunted or not, for work or not, I’d still follow you anywhere.”

“What?” His breath knotted in his threat and as your breath fanned across his cheeks, he could have sworn he’d be the next ghost to inhabit that cabin. You were too close and his poor heart can only take so much in one night.

“I don’t know if its the fact we’re about to die,” You wanted to be swallowed by some random hole in the ground or have creepy ghost Jeno drag you away. “Or the fact I can’t see you since it’s dark as shit in here. Or even the fact that I’m starting to think this is a nightmare and I’ll wake up in my desk with you hovering over me with fresh coffee and that cheesy smile of yours that I lo--”

“Y/N.” The way he spoke your name so softly and lovingly, made your temperature rise the cold of the dinky closet no longer affected you.

“Oh, right, sorry,” You rushed through your words, wanting this all to be over, “Truth is I like you, Renjun. I’ve liked you for a long time and that’s why I didn’t need a lot of convincing to join your team.”

“Is that true?” Samara-Jeno asked.

“Truer words have never been spoken.”

“I like you too, Y/N,” Renjun’s voice cracked and your heart swelled. “I’m not...I have no words to describe it. But I like you so much and I never had the courage to say it.”

You smiled, shrouded in the darkness he couldn’t see the pure happiness on your face.

“I’ll leave this body now,” Samara-Jeno said, breaking the heart-eyes-through-the-dark spell you two were in. “You can rest easy, I’m gone…Hey, you guys what the hell happened?”

“Holy shit it worked!” The sheer exuberance of him confessing and you not being in danger had you squealing. “I didn’t think that would work!”

Renjun, however took this differently, “Yeah, you’re such a good actor. That confession...wow.”

“What?” You didn’t even have time to process the crushing sensation his words brought. “Oh, yeah, good one right?” You knew it was too good to be true.

“For God’s sake--”Jeno threw the door open and you clambered over to grip Renjun close to you.

Jaemin sighed exasperated as he readjusted the camera in his hands. You crawled out of the closet, disoriented and bewildered by everything going on. Haechan was handing Chenle money (“Told you they were dumb to see their love”) and bitterly glaring at you two. Yuta and Yeri looked like they wanted to bang their heads.

“What the hell is this?” You shrieked as Renjun gaped at his coworkers.

“This was a set up!” Jeno explained, outraged by the sheer dumbassery you two possessed. “You guys literally confessed to each other like we wanted! Then straight up made it sound like it was all acting...what the heck!”

“You guys are really something else,” Yuta shook his head. “Love is blind and makes you oblivious, but you two are just dumbassess.”

“Wait, so you like me?” Renjun’s eyes widened at your accusation.

“You like me too?”

“Yeah, I actually wasn’t lying,” You felt sheepish at all the pairs of eyes glued on you. “I do like you, Renjun...enough to go ghost hunting even though I don’t believe in that.”

“I like you too,” He cupped your cheek in his hands, ignoring the camera Jaemin pointed right at you. “You’re my partner in crime and I kinda wanna have you around to hunt more ghosts.”

“That’s an offer I can’t resist,” You grinned, kissing him gently on the cheek. “However, you’re gonna have to buy me dinner after, all this ghost hunting makes me hungry.”

“Deal.” The same fondness in his eyes you thought you imagined before, returned and your eyes reflected that fondness. “Now, what the hell were you guys thinking this was a great location and we could have had awesome footage!”

You spent the rest of the night scouring the woods for ghosts, although you didn’t find any. Renjun and you, trailed behind everyone, hand and hand and beaming brighter than the moon above.

“What do you think our viewers are gonna make our ship name be?”

“I hope it’s not something silly,” You gripped his fingers tightly, yanking him closer to you. “There’s something I’ve really been wanting to do, but doing it in front of everyone and in haunted cabin, just didn’t seem right.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” His fingers caressed your cheek, letting them trail down as he placed his hand on your arm. He marveled at the way you shivered under his touch. He was getting too cocky and needed to be stepped down a notch.

You pecked his lips quickly, the only witness to your kiss was the moon and stars. He soften under your touch, holding you tighter. You pulled away all too quick for his taste and laughed as you made your way towards the cars and the group.

“That’s what you get for being a tease!”

He smiled and followed you spraying holy water from his spray can at your retreating figure.

“You really are a demon!” He joked as he caught up to you and took your hand in his again.

“Another one to add to the list of completed missions,” You grinned shuffling into the van. “Up for another adventure?”

“With you, yes,” He would never stop making your heart flutter.

“I swear to God if you two are going to be this cheesy, I am going to regret setting this up in the first place.”

Yuta was only kidding, considering he was the biggest shipper. The next day at the office the video of you two confessing to each other was seen by everyone. For once, you were glad to have been terrorized by an alleged ghost. You watched as Renjun walked over to you, glowing, and a folder in his hand. Yeah, you’d definitely followed this dork through any “haunted” place or anywhere for that matter.

Paranormal Neotivity masterlist

#neotober #cznnet #neowritingsnet #huang renjun #renjun x reader #renjun #nct renjun #nct dream fanfic #nct dream

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powertothefan · 4 years ago

Text

Coffee

A Stanford Pines x Original Character Fic

Hazel DeForest belongs to @evaroze

Stanford Pines is property of Alex Hirsch

This was something tossed together after discovering the adorable OC known as Hazel, she’s so cute and I love the design of her~ So, I did a little dabble of when both her and Stanford were in college and their first official conversation. I hope I wrote her write, as I have been a little rusty in my writing, Far too long since I posted something here that was worth the read. Anyway, please share any thoughts or feelings you have as long as it’s constructive.

Hazel was wandering the commons of the college that morning, a little on the early side. She left the door early that morning to do some research at the library for one of her papers. Just because Backupsmore wasn’t her first college pick didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to put in the effort! She wasn’t as dressed up as she usually would be, just a simple blouse and shorts. She had pulled on a pair of flats as well before herring her hair up in a big ponytail and tossing on her bright pink glasses. With her messenger bag full of notebooks and pens, she was ready to go anywhere

Glancing to her watch, Hazel checked the time. Her first class of the day wasn’t until mid morning, so she’d have plenty of time to get some work done before classes that day. Most of her dorm mates were sleeping in from yet another party. She honestly couldn’t believe it. Just because they were at Backupsmore University didn’t mean they could party the semester away. Who did that anyway? Not her! No, definitely not.

Hazel was terrible with social interaction. In truth, she would have probably never gained any friends unless they proactively were the ones to speak with her first. She knew a few other people, mostly from those forced social circles they did as an ice breaker during the first weeks in the dorms. Otherwise, her friend group was very, very small. She was fine with that though, most of the people she did know the names of were not people she would actively spend time with. They drank and partied and blew off their classes as if they could afford to do it. Hazel didn’t have that luxury. Every penny counted! Still, a very itty bitty part of her wished that she didn’t have such terrible social anxiety.

It would have made trying to introduce herself to a certain someone easier.

Huffing to herself, she let her thoughts pass on as she got to the library door. Stepping inside, it was calm and quiet. It was a massive place too. For a second choice college, it had an outstanding collection of literature. Likely because they didn’t have much of a sports team to spend money on. Either way, the ability to have such a vast collection of books at her disposal made her studies all the easier. Especially with her focus on mythology. She never would run out of resource material for her papers.

As she walked further into the library, she realized that it was very empty. In fact, there was really no one around at all, save for the librarian. Then again, it was a Monday. No one ever got up before classes on Monday, unless they were someone like her and super focused on their studies. It was all the better really, she’d have the whole place to herself. Wandering further into the library, she hurried to the folklore and mythology section. It was her element, her one true oasis. No one and nothing could take it away from her-

“Oof!” Hazel sounded as she smacked right into something. She hadn’t been looking where she was going, instead skilling the shelves as she walked past them. Just as she was stepping back out into the open areas beyond the shelves, she collided with someone, and hard. Books were flying, paper scattered by the ceiling fans, and the two moving forces pushed off the courses and onto the thin and worn carpet. Laying there, Hazel had to take a moment to breath, that impact hurt! Carefully, she groaned while sitting up, rubbing her side where he was sure she was charged into an elbow.

“Oh, gosh. I”m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going!” A deep voice said, A shadow overcoming her as a hand was offered up. “I was carrying too many books, and couldn't see a thing. I shouldn’t have assumed I was the only one here.”

The tone was upset, clearly more so at themselves than her. There was some obvious disappointment in their own carelessness. However, it was also very familiar...too familiar.

Not really thinking as she grabbed the hand, she was dizzy and shaken still, she was easily pulled right back up to her feet. With the bright ceiling lights no longer glaring down right into her eyes, Hazel could focus on the man who helped her up. As she locked her gaze on their face, about to give them a stern talking to for being so reckless in such a sacred place, her throat swelled and her heart stopped.

Stanford Pines... It was like an arrow to the heart, struck by a cupid with a sniper rifle. So accurate that it fried her brain. Stanford Pines was everything Hazel had ever wanted since high school! Originally, he was supposed to get a scholarship of some kind and head off to some amazing college. Instead, he ended up going to her only affordable pick. She had wanted to try and be good and say hello. He had been her obsession throughout all of high school after all, not that he even knew she existed back then...Hazel never had the heart to speak. Now, as an adult, and independent, she had told herself she’d try.

And boy, did she try.

They had gotten classes together, unknowingly of course because she hadn’t realized that he had any interest in the fields of mythology or folklore. They were English heavy studies after all, not the wonderful sciences that he seemed to be skilled in. Part of her knew that he was aware that she existed, he often waved at her with that handsome smile. However, every time that she saw him, with that grin and cute sweater vest, the ability to talk was replaced with the need to nervously vomit. In all cases since the semester began, she flat out ran away before she could lose her lunch to her anxiety. Not exactly the best way to say hello.

Now, here he was, his glasses skewed off a bit from the impact and his large hand wrapped firmly around her’s. Only a foot apart, both a little shaken from the impact but still breathing...or at least Ford was. Hazel couldn’t get her body to continue their usually automatic functions. As Ford seemed to get himself resettled by fixing his glasses, Hazel felt herself just melt at his touch. They were rough, but not painful, Just worn from all his tinkering and building. They were so large too, and not just because of the extra finger which she had always found to be an adorable addition to an adorable man.

Ford had really grown up, a lot more than she was prepared for.

“Oh! It’s you!” He said suddenly, bringing hazel back down from the second hand high of his existence. Breathing in suddenly, she blinked, her mind rushing forward to catch up to the conversation. “M-Me?” She weakly said, her voice still a little breathless from the lack of air in her lungs.

Stanford turned a slight shade of pink, giving a nervous smile of sorts as he tried to correct himself. “I mean, I recognize you from the folklore seminar class. ‘Folklore and Its Effects on Modern Development.’ You..ah, You sit in the row behind mine.”

His tone had gotten a little meek, almost as if the man was becoming uncertain of himself as he addressed her. Why was he getting nervous? She was the one having an internal battle between heart and brain!

Wait.

He was talking to her...Stanford Pines was physically talking to her! He knew she existed! The man she had been obsessed with for years knew they were in the same class. Holy crap! She needed to speak, to say something, anything. For the love of god open your mouth Hazel DeForest!

“Ah- RIGHT!” She said very loudly, her face going bright pink as her mind finally caught up to current events. “Rightrightrightrightrightright. I remember! You did the opening argument statement about how folklore was only lore until people could collect it! It lost the folklore touch when people found out it was all fact.” She blurted out, saying just about anything to show that she wasn’t a brainless zombie.

“Ah, well, it's true! Once something is discovered to truly exist, it isn’t lore. It’s Science. That in turn means it can’t be categorized as lore but as a truly existing species. The professor was not really impressed with my reports for that debate session but he didn’t flunk my report either so I guess my point was valid enough!” Stanford said, seeming to pick his tone back up while in a subject he could work on. “Anyway, sorry for running you down. I was walking to my table with more books and...clearly got over zealous.” It was then that Ford looked around, causing Hazel to pause and do the same thing. Oh, they had made a bit of a mess...The books were scattered all over, some having flown far enough to land on top of the shelves! His notebook was crumpled nder a couple and the pages from it seemed to have scattered to the winds, still being carried off by the breezes of the fan.

“H-here, I’ll help clean up.” Hazel said, pausing a moment as she then looked down at their hands, which were still tightly held together. Ford noticed this too, and quickly let go with a nervous chuckle before roughly clearing his throat. “Yeah, thanks. I’ll start over here.”

The pair turned away from each other, Ford kneeling down to grab and gently fix the books near his feet. Hazel did the same, grabbing a couple and fixing the pages before gently setting them on a nearby table. She then also started to snatch up the flying papers, trying to keep them from wrinkling any further as they continued to flutter at her feet. It took a minute, but with the two of them collecting they were able to get it cleaned up easily. The last book was picked up by Hazel, her eyes a little dazed until she read the title. Instantly, she was back to her usual self for a second.

“Ah, It’s here!” She said suddenly, causing ford to look up as he grabbed the last few books from their places on top of the selves. “Hmm? Something catch your eye?” “This book, I’ve been trying to get it for ages but every single time I get here it’s pulled off the shelves! I need it for my report on the correlations of folklore creatures and their real life potential counterparts. It has a segment on how folklore creatures and mythological monsters are created based on a person seeing something for the first time and using other animals to describe it! I wanted to read it for my paper and reference some of it’s points on how artistic interpretation cannot be trusted unless done while actually in front of the creature.” She rattled, her tone serious and smooth as her intellectual side kicked in, a finger moving up to adjust her glasses for a second. “Oh, You’re referencing it as well?” Ford asked, coming closer and putting the last of the books on the table. “I originally grabbed it because I’ve been trying to get it as well. Whoever has been hoarding it just got it back over the weekend. I’m using to further my argument that just because we depict creatures in a certain way does not diminish their potential existence. The author has a wonderful part about the statues of medusa actually and how they believe that medusa is a real being, but her hair was misinterpreted.” “I came here this morning to borrow it...Looks like you beat me.” Hazel said, suddenly feeling herself getting shy again.

Damn it, Hazel. This was your first real conversation with Ford and you were going to blow it because you couldn’t keep the talk going! What was worse, she had gotten up for nothing. Ford got the book first. Even if she wanted to, she didn’t have the heart to try and ask him to let her borrow it first. So much for getting a head start on that report.

“Do you wanna borrow it?” Ford asked suddenly.

“What?” Hazel squaked, not prepared for that statement.

“Well, I don’t have classes until mid-morning. That’s our Folklore course. If you don’t mind just using it this morning, you’re more than welcome to take whatever notes you need from it while I’m referencing other books. I technically already checked it out but if you need it now you can keep it until after classes. Then meet up later to give it back?” Ford asked, his tone strangely hopeful.

Was he- Nooooo, naw he couldn’t be...maybe?

“Um, well...I really do need the book for a few other things besides just the research. If it's not an issue I guess we could meet at the coffee shop off campus? The one with the big tables? It’s very dead in the afternoon on Mondays, so we could meet up after all our classes for the day and I’ll try to quickly get the notes I need before giving back the book. The library gets too busy later in the day anyway for me to focus.”

“Heh, yeah, I have to move my work back and forth from the dorm to here because the afternoon library people. However, I can get coffee later! I’ll need it anyway for my second wind of research. So coffee, after the day's classes?”

“Yeah, coffee!” Hazel said, suddenly finding herself smiling as her cheeks turned a bright pink.

Ford seemed to also, his own lopsided grin making Hazel’s heart flutter harshly in her chest. Stanford quickly stacked his books back up again, still grinning a little before carefully turning so he could see Hazel beyond the still massive stack of literature. “Alright then, I’ll get back to my work. I’ll see you for coffee.”

With that, Ford smiled again and headed off, hurrying back to his work table but making sure to take the time to check each eye before moving past. Hazel stood there, clutching the book to her chest as the gears in her head turned, trying to comprehend what just happened.Coffee, she was going to get coffee with Stanford Pines. A cute cafe~ Where people sat together close and chatted over lattes and teas. So, she didn’t actually drink coffee, as she preferred tea, but that didn’t matter! She was getting coffee with Stanford Pines!

Slowly, she took a few steps into a shelf area so that she wouldn’t risk being seen, before falling to her knees in giddy delight, covering her mouth to make sure her excited giggles and squeals did not echo throughout the whole place. Looking back to the book that she set down, she snatched it up again before darting out of the place with a high skip in her step. She had to get as much note taking done as she could, as she knew that she probably wouldn’t be able to focus on her work if she was sitting across from Stanford...But that was a problem for future Hazel, current Hazel had work to do!

#stanford pines #hazel deforest #Gravity Falls #GF AU #Original Characters #Original work #Fan Fiction #One Shot #Romance #First Meeting #Not my Characters #Coffee #Cute Couples #Ford x OC #Ford Pines #Stanford #Alternate Universe #Sweet #evaroze

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halfgclden · 4 years ago

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Sweet Dreams | Patrick&Eli

Summary: After talking about it in their first meeting, Patrick finds Eli in one of his dreams. They play 20 questions.

Eli was scaling a large tree for what felt like a long time, though he wasn’t as high as he should have been. He waited for a moment before he leapt to a branch on the tree next to his. He caught, then began to climb up this tree; the forest around him slowly turning into a vast system of bridges and games among the treetops. He walked along a tightrope before stopping on a platform with Patrick, feeling as though he’d always been with him. He nodded at him, not lucid enough to remember their earlier conversation. He jumped to another branch.

Patrick wasn't sure what he was expecting, dream wise, but it wasn't scaling giant trees and treetop hopping. He didn't bother touching the landscape just in case— he already could think of a hundred ways this could take a dark turn. Instead he just brought himself to Eli, waiting on the platform until the boy joined him there. He nodded back, checking for any recognition. Patrick decided there should be a fence around the platform and leaned against it, watching as Eli jumped away. "This is pretty cool," he said, choosing to just step onto the branch— somehow, his legs were long enough.

Eli dropped down so that he was gripping the branch and dangling by his hands. He looked up at Patrick and nodded, smiling at him. "They're adding in a slide soon. And it connects to the waterfall." He swung himself back and forth.

Patrick watched Eli hang from the branch, then his gaze slid down to the long fall below. "That's awesome," he said, playing along. After another moment he slid off the branch and landed on one below, then made eye contact with the boy, now hanging above him. He tilted his head to the side. "Do you remember why I'm here?"

Eli let go of the branch, his feet finding the platform that now existed below him. He smiled at Patrick and put his hands on his hips as he squinted at him. “Uh.” He blinked. “Were you here for a lesson?”

“Uh,” Patrick smirked. “Kind of. More like a demonstration.” He reestablished eye contact but this time started to subtly shift the world around them. Not enough to make a huge, noticeable difference, but things started to warp, turn more obviously dreamlike. “Do you know you’re asleep right now?”

Eli nodded, stepping closer to Patrick, assuming that he was the one giving the lesson. He didn’t seem to notice things warping around them until Patrick explained that he was dreaming, and then looked around, laughing. “Oh shit!” He smiled, then took a step closer to the center of the tree, suddenly afraid of falling because he had no harness. “Uh, I guess so, now. I have a few questions about that! Where are we? In my brain?”

“More or less,” Patrick replied with a shrug. Now that Eli was lucid, he let the environment relax back into the semi-realistic setting he’d found it in. “This is your dream. I take it you like... uh, climbing? Nature? The spirit of adventure?” He chuckled.

“Yeah,” Eli said in reply to Patrick’s question as he nodded. As he looked around, he hummed. “This is the park I worked at, but it’s wrong.” A few of the trees changed, replaced by ones spaced further apart with less branches. “We’re on a hiking trail instead. Oh my gosh, can I do that thing where I think about flying and I do it?” He concentrated for a moment, then floated a few inches into the air. He laughed and raised his eyebrows at Patrick. “Okay, so I was gonna ask: if there are people in my dreams, are they those person walking into my dreams? Or are they just memories of them that I’m processing? How do I know it’s you you and not me projecting you? Also, you ever have those dreams where you’re like, not yourself? What would you do if you came here and I was having a dream about being a sea turtle or something? Would you be able to turn me back into Eli? Also, what was your name again?”

"Jeez, okay, let's do one question at a time." Patrick wasn't one for flying, so he remained grounded on the platform as he inspected the trees around them. "You can change your dream a bit, especially now that you're aware that you're dreaming. But I can do a lot more, a lot faster." As an example, the platform below them turned a dark, cracked marble covered in vines, and the trees went barren, all of the leaves suddenly far below on the ground. "Everyone you see is in your head. Sometimes even I might be, but right now I'm actually here. Uh..." he tried to remember what else he had asked. "I can find you no matter what you look like. Was that it?" He snapped. "Oh. Patrick."

Eli lowered back down onto the platform as the scene changed around him, finding it hard to focus on both things at once. He nodded as he processed the information. “How do you find me? Do you think of me and then you’re in my dream? Or is it like the Nightmare Before Christmas with the doors? Or is it like that one Fairly Odd Parents movie thing with the TV? You know what I’m talking about?” He held up his hands. “Sorry, I know that was more than one question. One just leads to another.”

Patrick laughed again. "I'll allow it, but only because they were technically follow up questions," he said. "I had to go from dream to dream. Basically walking around town in dreamspace. It took me a while to find you, but now that I have it'll be easier. Like... I don't know, knowing your dream address or something."

Eli smiled, leaning back against the tree again. “So it was like Fairly Odd Parents.” He nodded. “Cool, cool. And how did you... leave your own dream? Is there a space between them? What were you showing me tonight? I can’t remember what the point of this was.”

"The point was that I show you that I could," Patrick said. He ignored the part about leaving his own dream, because he was sure it was going to open new questions. "I'd usually change the dream more—" usually he was not chatting with the dreamer, either— "but I skew scary." There was a bit of a challenge in his voice as he continued. "Don't really want to freak you out any more than I already have."

Eli moved to the edge of the now-cracked platform and took a seat, dangling his feet over. “Why do you like scary dreams?” He looked up at Patrick before pushing himself off the platform, floating down to the ground somewhat gracefully. “That seems like it’d be stressful.”

Patrick joined him at the ledge, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, Eli was gone, drifting to the ground. Patrick didn't bother jumping, and the next moment he was standing beside Eli again. The trees now stretched into cloud of darkness above, but Patrick stared into the sky until the sun came back. "I'm used to them," he finally answered. The path on the forest floor was overgrown and tangled; Patrick stuck his foot out to see if any more changes would occur. "Got them all the time as a kid, so I learned how to control it."

“Control it and make more bad things?” Eli walked along the gnarled roots with his arms stuck out for balance. He turned to look at Patrick as he walked, his feet finding the right path naturally. “Why didn’t you control them and turn them nice?”

Patrick smiled, but his eyes flashed somewhat. "Because it was harder to change it completely than to just tweak it." He was tempted for a moment, to produce a root to trip Eli, but he ignored the urge and mades sure the path stayed clear. "By the time I got better at it, I was into the scary shit. Besides, nice is relative."

Eli nodded and turned around again. He hadn't considered that, but he appreciated the explanation. He dropped his arms and ran his fingertips along the moss-lined trees instead. "So you like horror movies?"

"Oh, no way," Patrick laughed. He fell into step with Eli, also feeling the moss beneath his fingertips. "Nah, I like them. They aren't scary enough, though."

Eli tilted his head at Patrick and then nodded again. "No horror movie is scary enough for you? Do you not get sucked in enough?"

Again, Patrick smirked, suppressing another urge to surprise Eli, this time with a sudden change in scenery. "Does that surprise you? I don't really watch movies. I think most of them go for cheap scares."

Eli shrugged, hopping over a root straight into a puddle. He laughed quietly and continued on, shaking muck from his foot. “I dunno, I guess I just figured you would consume it if you like it. Do you read or listen to scary stuff? Or do you just go in and watch people’s nightmares?”

"My parents wouldn't let me watch or listen to horror," Patrick said. "And I don't fucking read." He laughed. "They thought it'd keep nightmares away, which it didn't. Mostly I just find other artists I like. But watching people's nightmares is cool, too."

Eli also laughed when Patrick said that he didn’t read. “Wait, so your dad is the dream god and you got nightmares? That seems unfair.” He held his hand out for a mouse that was crawling along one of the trees. “You know Creepypasta? Or, um, SCPs? You seem like you’d be into those.”

“Life’s not fair,” Patrick mumbled, nonchalant, not showing on his face that the small comment felt oddly vindicating. Instead, he leaned against a tree, watching Eli interact with the mouse. “Yeah, I like those. Some of my paintings would fit right in with those. Did you want to go somewhere? Dream wise.”

“Yeah, but you’d think dreams might be different,” Eli exhaled the words with a small sigh and wiggled his fingers, trying to turn the mouse to a bird, but just turning it into a mouse with wings. He made a face as it flew away. “Cool. Can I see one some time?” He looked around, the woods in front of them dark and thick. “Uh. I dunno. A beach or something?” He pressed his hand into another tree. “What do you normally do? That isn’t creepy. Also, don’t dreams only last like six seconds in real time? How does that translate?”

Instead of answering the question right away, Patrick melted the trees into sand, turned the ground beneath them into a shallow pool of saltwater. The pool expanded and rolled out into ocean waves, and the sunshine turned hazy and intense. Other people were on the beach, but they were far away, specks in the sand. "I don't remember the last time I did something that wasn't creepy," he said honestly. "And if I just go free reign it'll probably get a bit, uh, wild." He smiled and shrugged. "But I can take requests. We're in dream time, we could oversleep a bit but you'll pretty much wake up at a normal time."

“Wow,” Eli breathed out the word as the scene around them changed, his eyes wide and bright with wonder. He dug his feet into the sand, then walked a bit further out towards the water. “I don’t mind oversleeping. I guess we have so much potential to do stuff here, and I’m keeping it all so simple; asking for the beach. We could walk underwater and explore there, right? Or... I don’t know, go to a museum that your mind can make and jump into all the paintings? How cool would that be?” He walked further into the water and looked back at Patrick. “Can you travel into daydreams? How does that work?”

Patrick followed him into the ocean, feeling no resistance in the current even after wading in hip-deep. He nodded to Eli's suggestions, silently confirming that he could do all of those things and yes, they would be cool. He moved his hands in circles, creating little whirlpools in the sea. "I can't get into those, though I'll say yet. I'm working on it." He smiled. "Want to be a guinea pig?"

Eli moved further into the water until his head was under. Even still, he breathed easily and could hear Patrick. He reached his hand out to touch one of the whirlpools. “I would want to be a guinea pig.” His clothes had changed into swim trunks. “But for the daydreams? You won’t make them freaky, right?”

Patrick nearly turned Eli into a guinea pig on the spot, but as always he resisted the urge. He moved the ocean floor down so they were both submerged in the deep sea, his whirlpool spinning out until it surrounded them. He then conjured a boat to keep them afloat, spinning slowly along the huge circular current of the now giant watery vortex. He laid back, sunglasses sliding over his eyes. "Is this freaky?"

Eli’s stomach dropped as he was suddenly floating rather than wading, and he took in a sharp breath as he was sucked into the whirlpool, spun around quickly. Despite this, however, he laughed, and once they were above the water once more on the boat, he pushed his hair from his face, feeling dry once more. He shook his head at Patrick. “I don’t think so. Are you trying to be?”

"Are you seriously asking me that question?" Patrick asked, lifting his head sharply. He looked genuinely insulted for a moment, then he started laughing. "Do you want me to leave you here? No, I'm not trying. I'm just figuring out what's freaky in your book."

Eli bristled at the sudden change in tone, and he shook his head. “If you left me here, couldn’t I just wake up?” He wasn’t sure if Patrick would take that as a challenge, but he figured that even if he did, it was all just a dream, and since he was aware of that, it should be less scary. “If I tell you what I find freaky, will you do it?” He shrugged. “Water isn’t scary. I grew up on an island.”

Patrick lowered his head again. "It's too predictable to do it as soon as you tell me," he said. After a pause, he sighed, figuring he had to play nice and be a little more reassuring. "I won't give you bad dreams. Scout's honor, or whatever."

“I didn’t ask if you’d do it right away,” Eli retorted, a smile tugging at his lips. He exhaled a small laugh and laid back in the boat. “The people who say that are never boy scouts.” He sat up again and leaned over the side of the boat to dip his hand into the water. “Does anything freak you out?” He glanced at Patrick. “Or have you exposed yourself to too much?”

Patrick didn’t say anything right away, long enough that it seemed he wouldn’t answer the question at all. “I’m sure there’s something,” he eventually said. “But nothing comes to mind. If I think too hard about it right now I might accidentally take us there.” After another moment, he sat up again, fully this time. “Anywhere else you wanna go?”

Eli wasn’t sure if Patrick would answer him, but figured it was a personal enough question that he should let it go. He occupied himself with sticking his hand into the water, and focused on trying to feel it, though he couldn’t tell if he actually could. He rested his hand on his chin, looking at Patrick as he spoke, and nodded at the explanation. “I’ll probably get freaked out by it if you do, so I’ll pass.” He stuck his legs out in front of him and hummed, thinking. “Did you say that you could take me into another dream?”

"I said we'd take baby steps." Patrick cracked his knuckles, hearing them pop even though he felt nothing from the motion. "Earlier today you were panicking about the implications of a dream reality, I don't know if you're ready to walk it with me. Is there someone you're looking to visit?"

“It still freaks me out, I’m not gonna lie, but I’m not enough of a physicist for it to rock my entire world, you feel?” Eli leaned over the side of the boat again, minnows appearing around his fingers. “I didn’t ask with anyone in mind,” he admitted. “But how far can you travel? We live in the same place, but can you figure out the dream address for someone across the city? Do you ever pop into someone’s dream when they’re doing something weird?”

"Far, if I know them, yes, and yes," Patrick said, answering each question in quick succession. "Lots of weird shit, actually. But dreams are weird. They don't all have some secret implications so I try not to judge." This was true, but Patrick didn't bother mentioning that he often failed on that front. "I once tried to find someone across the country. Didn't work, but I think it could if I kept at it."

"Only if you know them?" Eli seemed disappointed by this, but didn't linger on the subject as Patrick continued. "Does it use more energy if you're travelling further? Or do you have an infinite supply of energy because you're doing it in your sleep? What does looking for someone look like? I know you sort of explained it, but... I dunno, I guess it's hard to imagine." He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "What's the weirdest thing you've seen someone dream? Was it a weird sex thing? Do you wake up feeling rested after this, or is your brain doing too much?"

Patrick took a deep breath then let it out slowly, dipping his hand into the sea. "I didn't realize that I was signing up for twenty questions," he teased lightly. "And, it looks like you might actually have someone in mind. Anyone far away you want to go see?"

Eli shrugged somewhat sheepishly, but he still smiled as he watched Patrick’s hand. “Is this the astral sea that we’re in?” He smiled more. “Sorry, just making it an even twenty,” he said as though he’d actually been keeping track of how many questions he’d asked. He rested his chin on his hand and sighed. “It sounds lame, but this is the longest time I’ve gone without seeing my mom like, ever. I feel like even a dream hug would be nice.”

The confession made sense, and it felt like Patrick was being trusted with something that he perhaps shouldn't be trusted with. Despite recognizing the need for compassion, his face still contorted slightly before he glanced away, twirling his hand around in the water again. "This is just a dream," he said, referring to his most recent question. "Not the astral sea."

Eli dropped his hand and leaned over the edge of the boat to see if he could see to the bottom of the sea, or if the water was murky. "What's the difference? Your power is so cool. Does this mean that our brains are touching?"

Patrick smiled. "It is cool. The astral sea is the layer of reality that made you so worried. We're both there right now, so is everyone else who's asleep, and... I don't know." He shrugged instead of explaining more, figuring it was mostly speculation on his part and it would only make Eli's brain explode more. "There's a lot of lore, I'm not sure what's actually true. All I know is this is where we go when we dream."

Eli laughed suddenly. “Oh! The astral sea is the reality layer! That makes me way less scared about it. I don’t even know why.” He turned suddenly, leaning over the side of the boat, and resisted the urge to jump in. “Can all your siblings do this? How does the power overlap work? Does everyone have different powers so it makes us hard to claim?”

"We can all dreamwalk," Patrick explained, laying back again. "But not everyone can change other people's dreams like this. It's always roughly the same powers, I think. I dunno. Morpheus is kind of a freak, I wouldn't be surprised if ten more kids showed up soon." He grinned and glanced over to Eli, watching him hover over the water. "Go swim if you want. I'll bring in a giant squid, who won't hurt you, scout's honor."

Eli raised his eyebrows at Patrick, looking back over his shoulder. “Woah, ten? You mean that? Chase said Morpheus normally claims his kids right away. Is that always true?” He looked back over the water, then reached his hands up to take his hearing aids out, though they only appeared when he reached for them. “What’s the squid’s name?”

"No, I don't mean that," Patrick laughed. "He does, though, at least I think so. Haven't met anyone who had to wait to be let into the club yet?" He paused, then turned his head toward Eli. "Are you unclaimed?"

Eli tried to not look too disappointed at that news by looking out at the sea, but he glanced back at Patrick when he nodded. “Yeah.”

Patrick frowned. "Well, Morpheus wouldn't put off claiming you. You seem, kind of the type of personality he'd like." He didn't sound particularly happy to say this. "So we're probably not related. Sorry to disappoint you." He moved closer and took one of Eli's hearing aids, inspecting it, then looked out toward the sea again. "Squid's name is calamari."

Eli exhaled a sigh and nodded again. “That’s cool. Gives me a mystery to continue pursuing.” He laughed at the name. “That’s funny.” He threw himself over the edge of the boat and into the water.

Patrick watched Eli disappear into the depths of the water, knowing exactly where he was even without seeing him. He pocketed the hearing aids— both had wound up in his hands— and made sure they'd stay dry. As promised, he brought in a friendly giant squid to swim around with the boy, then sat back, trailing his fingers along the water as the current pulled him along.

After what felt like long enough for someone else to get bored while you were playing with a giant squid of their making, Eli emerged from the water; not having to search for the boat as he paddled over and climbed up onto it. Again, he was dry as he emerged, but this time a towel rested on his shoulders. “This was so fun. You’re telling me you never have dreams like this? Not even for yourself?”

When Eli returned, Patrick changed the boat into something larger, motorized, with a warm deck that they were both sitting on. He handed the hearing aids back over, and they were back in Eli's ears a second later. "Something this tame probably wouldn't happen for me unless I made it. I'm... If I had a dream of the ocean, no manipulation involved, it'd probably be more intense. Calamari wouldn't be our friend." As if on cue, a huge shadow moved underneath the boat, then the vessel rocked slightly as it dover further underwater. Patrick watched with interest. "So, short answer, yes, but very rarely."

Eli smiled in thanks when Patrick handed his hearing aids over, and stretched out more as their boat grew. He listened to Patrick and considered this for a moment. “You must see the world as a scary place.”

That seemed like a strange and largely unfounded observation to make; Patrick didn't quite know how to respond. He pushed a hand through his hair. "I don't think so." The whirlpool had dissipated at some point, and they were floating on a vast, still, sea. "I know the world I see here isn't real."

Eli picked up a rock that appeared on the seat next to him and he turned to toss the stone over the edge of the boat, skipping it into the distance. He repeated the action as he spoke. “It’s not real, but it’s based on your memories, which are just your interpretation of the world, right?” He looked out at an island in the distance. “Can we get out of the water soon?”

Patrick considered this, but this time he didn't even attempt to respond. Maybe Eli was right, but he didn't want to talk about it. "We can go wherever you want," he replied with a shrug, "whenever you want.”

“Is that you implying that we should go see dinosaurs or the future? Or just saying you’re easy? Actually, probably the second.” Eli smiled and tossed the rock in his hand to skip across the water. “Let’s do something in the clouds,” he said, looking at his hands suddenly. He held them up to Patrick, showing off the fact that he had a few too many fingers on each. “Woah. Does this happen a lot?”

Patrick made a face at Eli's comment, not sure how he was supposed to take it. For a moment, this soured the conversation enough to make him look away from his companion and stare out at the island. But once Eli moved on, he decided to let it go, too, though he was even more stoic and detached as he looked at the boy's hands. "Oh yeah, all the time," he said. "That's a pretty basic dream check."

Eli laughed at the realization, apparently missing Patrick’s slight change in demeanor. “Like when you have those dreams where all your teeth fall out?” He reached up to check his mouth for falling teeth. All good. “Do you still have your wisdom teeth? I say I do, because I do, but they’re in a little box rather than my mouth.”

Patrick smirked as he looked up to the sky. "Do I have my wisdom teeth? Twenty questions took a turn." He tried to focus on a cloud-themed dream, and the sky darkened. Rain started to fall, thunder rumbled, the sea churned. A moment later, they were high above an ocean, standing on a gray cloud, flashing with lightning. Above their heads was a fiery sunset, the light slowly dwindling.

There was something in the air, and Eli’s stomach flipped as he was in the air. Instead of standing next to Patrick, he floated, and spun in a slow circle before he grinned at his friend. “Wow, dude, I get how you can paint these,” he said with a small laugh, more out of amazement than amusement.

It was beyond satisfying that Eli was so blown away at the change, and Patrick took a seat on the cloud with a smirk. His legs were almost swallowed up with the fog curling off the cloud. Light illuminated beneath his face as thunder rumbled again. "I don't normally paint something so... not scary," he commented. "But this turned out cool, so I might."

Eli moved to sit cross-legged, and floated down so that he was level with Patrick again. “If you don’t, I might. Ooo! Or we can both paint it, and see how it works out with our different styles.” He held his ankles. “Have you ever played exquisite corpse?”

Patrick thought about his sister, who was supposed to be collaborating with him and who he hadn't seen or spoken to in weeks. He was so lost in thought that for a moment, the sky turned a strange texture, less real and more flat, like a canvas. Eli's question floated past him, basically unheard. "Do you want to just work on a singular painting together?"

Eli picked up a piece of cloud and shaped it like it was made of some clay or foam. He glanced up as Patrick began speaking, and grinned at him. “Yeah, sure! I’ve never done that before. Will we do that sunset?”

"Sure," he replied, unsure if he was surprised or not that Eli said yes. "I'll probably want to add something unsettling, but we can talk more about it when we're awake." He paused again, then reached forward to alter the shape of Eli's handheld cloud. "You asked me something about a corpse."

Eli grinned and bobbed his head excitedly. “Cool! This is so cool, man.” He tossed the newly-sculpted cloud rabbit. “Huh?” He drew his brows together before remembering what he’d been saying. “Exquisite corpse. It’s a game where you fold the paper over in three parts and someone draws a head, someone draws a body, and someone draws the legs, but you can’t look at what the other person draws. All the end products are really fucked up.” He laughed. “I feel like you’d like playing it.”

Eli's tossed rabbit cloud started running, just barely outpacing a pack of pursuing wolves that materialized behind it, before leaping over the edge and into the open sky. "I would definitely like playing it," Patrick agreed, holding his chin up in his hands, barely paying attention to the chase happening on the other side of the cloud. He let himself sink an inch further into the cloud as it lit up yet again. "I think it's nearly morning," he said. "We have a bit more time but we might wake up soon."

Eli smiled as the rabbit animated, but his expression dropped as the wolves appeared, and he looked unsettled for the first time since the dream had begun. He dropped his hands to rest in the cloud and nodded at Patrick, sinking down a bit as well to feel if his body would register the flashes. “Okay. Does it just happen suddenly, or can I hold onto it? Also! Before I forget, can we do this again sometime? It was really fun.” He tossed a bit of the cloud up and let it float down. “And, uh, where and when should we meet for the painting planning?”

Patrick didn't quite notice Eli's reaction to the wolves, but no more appeared anyway. "It depends," he answered as the lightning below lit the underside of his face once more. "Usually it's pretty fast. If I wake up before you I'll just disappear, fifty-fifty chance on you staying lucid." He was quiet for a moment, the beginning of a smile on his face. But when he spoke again, he sounded almost smug instead of happy. "We can definitely do this again. Don't set a date in the dream because you might not remember. Just try to hold onto the fact that I work at the store where we met. You can find me there most days."

Eli felt his head growing fuzzy as Patrick spoke to him, and it almost was as though he could feel the lightning. "Will I remember this? The lucid part?" He nodded as Patrick continued to explain. "The store, alright. I'll try to remember. If I don't and you see me, just bring it up! I'll totally be down either way."

"You should definitely remember most of this part. Maybe the details of what we talked about will be fuzzy..." He paused again, then laughed. "So we might be playing fucking twenty questions all over again when we're awake. Fuck me." He shook his head, still chuckling. "Whatever, I'll keep an eye out for you."

Eli laughed at Patrick's dismay, since he seemed pretty amused by it himself. He nodded, opened his mouth (seemingly to ask another question), and promptly disappeared, having apparently woken up.

Patrick waited for Eli to speak, but in the next instant he was gone. "Bye," he mumbled to himself, smirking a bit. "Good morning." He laid back on the cloud, letting the lightning spark against his back, and closed his eyes. Almost immediately, the sunset morphed into a blood red sky, and the world started to shift. But he was going to wake up soon, too, so there was no point in crafting something new from scratch. Instead he just sank, and sank, through the cloud and eventually through to the other side. Then it was a long drop through air, the ocean speeding toward him, Patrick falling as fast as a storm of raindrops. When he hit the water, he woke with a jolt in his bed, as if he'd just slammed back onto the mattress.

#c: eli #c: elipatrick

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bangtan-sonyeonddaeng · 5 years ago

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Taehyung Scenario: I’ll see you in my dreams

You woke up covered in sweat and gasping for air. You felt like you had been holding your breath for too long and just broke the surface of the water before your lungs gave out. Your blanket was thrown onto the floor and your pillows were haphazardly spread out all over the bed. You sat up and placed a hand over your chest trying to calm your racing heart beat.

It was that dream again. The same one you had at least once a week for the past 2 months. Your dream is in black and white, as with all soul dreams. Before you meet your soulmate, your dreams are in black and white and you can’t talk to them. It is said that after you lock eyes with your soulmate, your dreams will be in color and you will be able to communicate with your soulmate in order to help you find each other.

In your dream, you are sitting on the floor. You legs feel like they weigh a ton and you can’t move them. You can’t move your body at all. You just sit there and wait until you see the door handle turning. Sometimes you wait for what feels like an hour. Other times you are the one opening the door and at this time you can move. You are always met with the sight of a dark, shadowy figure. You can’t make out what the person looks like but you know it’s your soulmate. Your heart feels warm and you feel a spark of electricity whenever you walk into the room. Sometimes you wave at your soulmate, or they wave at you if you are the one frozen who cannot move. Sometimes they give you a finger heart, making you wonder if your soulmate is Korean or if they are a Kpop fan like you. Even though all you know about your soulmate is their wave and their kind gestures towards you, you feel so much love in your heart for them already.

This dream was different however. Your soulmate was waving at your frantically and ran to you to try and touch you. Right before their hands met your own you were startled out of your sleep. You had never felt such intense emotions as you did right now. Sadness, longing, lonliness. It was hard to tell how much of these were your own emotions and which were your soulmates’. Sometimes their emotions can transfer through dreams and this seems to be one of those occasions.

After processing your dream you get out of bed to grab a glass of water. You check the time on the clock and see that it is 6 o’ clock in the morning. You are right in the middle of taking a sip of water when you realize what day it is and you nearly choke. It’s the day you are finally going to see BTS live in concert. Your earlier sadness is long forgotten as you dance around the kitchen singing Boy With Luv and happily thinking about the fact that in just a few more hours, you will be front row at their show. The Universe must have been on your side to help you score that front row seat. You couldn’t believe you were going to be able to see them up close. Especially the performance of Singularity.

Taehyung was your bias. You absolutely adored everything about him. From his soulful, perfect vocals, to his kind and caring personality. What wasn’t there to love about him? Too excited to fall back asleep, you decide you might as well get up and shower and get ready for the day. You made sure you pack your army bomb in your bag so you wouldn’t forget, and put on your Tata headband to support the character your bias had created. You wore shorts and tennis shoes and one of your many BTS shirts. Giving yourself a once over in the mirror, you were satisfied with how you looked and looked at the clock.

You couldn’t help but continue glancing at the clock. Letting out a huff of annoyance when only 15 minutes had gone by. Eventually you got impatient and tired of waiting and decided if nothing else you can wait in the mile long merch line and hopefully get something you wanted before they sold out. When you arrived you were a little overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people at the show. You had never been to a concert this big before and were honestly a little nervous. You went to the merch line and were surprised that you were actually able to get the shirt you wanted in your size. You took this as a good sign for the rest of the show. Before too long they had started letting people into the venue. Once you go through the chaos of the bag check and security you made your way to your seat and glanced around the stadium. You couldn’t help but tear up and feel so incredibly proud that they had went from having almost nothing to selling out stadiums all over the world.

Before the show started they were playing their music videos on the screen. Hearing ARMY sing along to their songs and the excited chatter of people around you made you even more excited for their show to begin. Seeing their entrance and opening song Dionysus was unlike anything you had ever seen at a concert before. Everyone was going crazy for them, yourself included. As the show went on it just got better and better. The stage effects and choreography absolutely blowing you away. You don’t know how you survived Taehyung’s solo. You found yourself screaming so loud you thought your voice was going to give out.

When it came time for Anpanman Taehyung had made his way over to your side of the stage. He saw your headband and smiled at you, your eyes locked for a moment and you felt like you had been struck by lightning. You didn’t think anything of it, he was your bias, he was Kim Freaking Taehyung of course you would have that reaction when he noticed you. However he faltered in his singing and that made you wonder if he felt something too.

He couldn’t be.. could he? He’s staring at you intently before Namjoon comes up and places an arm around his shoulder distracting him. He carries on with the show and you can’t shake the odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.

They close out the show with Mikrokosmos and as you watch the firework display you can’t help but get emotional. You were sad to have to say goodbye, but so incredibly happy and proud of how much they have achieved. You went home that night, hoping to get a peaceful nights sleep until your dreams were interrupted yet again.

It was different this time. You were the first one in the room but there were splashes of color all over the walls. You were able to get up and walk around. You put your hand on the doorknob and tried to open it, only to find it locked. You sighed and paced around the room, waiting for your soulmate to arrive. When the door opens you are surprised that your soulmate is still blocked out.

“Ah, Damnit I was hoping to finally be able to see you now.” You were almost knocked off your feet, taken aback with how deep your soulmate’s voice was. Well now you at least knew he was a male. That narrowed it down to half the population. And it was someone who must have been at the concert. You tried to remember if you had locked eyes with any guys that were at the show but none came to mind, except Taehyung. You shake your head and quickly throw the thought away scolding yourself. There was no way he was your soulmate.

“I was hoping I would get to see you too. But at least we can talk now. It’ll be easier for us to find each other.”

“You think I can touch you now? I don’t want to be ripped away from you like last night. That actually physically hurt.” You notice he has an accent, and can’t help but think he sound exactly like Taehyung. Suddenly the possibility of him being your soulmate didn’t seem too crazy to you after all.

“We can try it?” You hold out your hand and when his fingers intertwine with yours you couldn't stop yourself from giggling with sheer happiness.

“Can I hug you, please?” You don’t give him an answer, just wrap your arms around his waist and hug him so tightly to you. You feel his arms snake around your shoulders and a kiss placed to the top of your head.

“This just feels right. Being here with you in my arms. I don’t ever want it to stop.” You stay like that for a few moments before pulling away.

“What’s your name?”

“It’s Taehyung. What about you?”

“I’m sorry did you just say Taehyung?”

“Yeah, oh. Shoot do you know who I am? You must have been at that concert.. There’s no other explanation for why suddenly I am dreaming in color. Wait are you the one with the Tata headband?! I thought I felt something weird when I looked at you!” You can’t help but giggle at his ramblings.

“Yes, that was me. My name is y/n.”

“Nice to finally meet you. Oh gosh I was hoping it was you. You were so incredibly cute Namjoon had to snap me out of my thoughts otherwise I probably would have just kept staring at you like an idiot.”

“You think I am cute?!”

“Yes, very cute and very beautiful… If you have time tomorrow can we meet somewhere before our second show? We have to rehearse later in the afternoon but, maybe we can grab breakfast somewhere?”

“I would love that Taehyung.”

“Great! Uhh.. I kinda can’t leave the hotel or I’ll be recognized do you mind coming here? I know room service probably isn’t an ideal fist date but.. I just have to see you. Please?”

“Tae you don’t have to be so nervous. I would love to have room service breakfast with you.” Even though you can’t see him you know he’s probably smiling at you with that signature boxy smile that you adore so much.

“Okay!” He proceeds to tell you the address of the hotel and you commit it to memory.

“I’ll see you soon Tae.”

“See you soon y/n.”

When you arrive at the hotel you aren’t really sure how to get upstairs to see him. You stop at the front desk and they tell you there is no one staying here by the name of Taehyung. You sigh heavily and try to think of something when a man who appears to be a body guard approaches you.

“Excuse me, are you y/n?”

“Yes that’s me.” He makes a motion for you to follow him and you head up to the top floor. You see there are security swarming the floor. It seems a bit much but it honestly makes you happy knowing that the boys are so well protected. You step off the elevator and before you can even take one step off of it you are tugged into Taehyung’s arms.

“Y/n! You came! I’m so happy to finally meet you in person.” You hug him back with as much strength as you can muster. When you pull away he’s absolutely beaming at you.

“Let’s go eat breakfast.” It doesn’t sneak past your notice that he was already taken to holding your head and is leading you to his room. He opens the door for you and before you can sit down in the chair you are enveloped in another tight hug.

“Sorry. I’m just really happy to finally meet my soulmate. It’s the moment I have been so excited and waiting for my whole life.” You lean up and press a kiss to his cheek and his smile grows impossibly wider.

“I am really happy to finally meet you too, Tae. This honestly still feels like I am dreaming.”

“Me too, except you’re note a black shadow anymore and I can actually feel your warmth so strongly.” He finally releases his hands from your waist and you two sit down and eat together. You spend the morning talking and getting to know each other. You have a surprising amount of things in common. Before you know it an hour has gone by and there is knocking at the hotel door. He opens it and Namjoon is standing in the doorway.

“Tae we have to leave for rehearsal soon. I’m sorry to interrupt I know how excited you were to be spending time with y/n..”

“It’s okay hyung I’ll be out in a minute.” He turns back to you and sees you fidgeting with your hands in your lap.

“Are you okay y/n?”

“I just.. I wonder where are we going to go from here? You play your last show in my country tonight and then you’re going to be gone for the rest of your tour for a few months and I don’t know when we will see each other again.”

“Well, we don’t have to put a lable on what we are right now. We are still getting to know each other and just because we are soulmates doesn’t mean we have to rush anything.” He sits on the bed and motions for you to sit next to him. The second you get close he pulls you into his lap and presses a kiss to your lips.

“Sorry I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” You are left breathless just from one kiss and your heart absolutely sores.

“I’m going to miss you Tae..”

“All you have to do is go to sleep baby. I’ll be with you every night in your dreams. Since we will be in different time zones it may take me a while to get there but.. wait for me?”

“Of course Tae. I’ll wait for you. As long as it takes.”

#BTS reaction #BTS reactions #BTS scenario #BTS scenarios #BTS imagine #BTS imagines #kim taehyung #v #taehyung x reader #reader x taehyung

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kashyyyyk · 4 years ago

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i was tagged my the lovely @theleavesoflorien to answer these questions, so here goes :))

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or a blue pen?

blue actually! but idk why

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or in the city?

the country ideally, bc cities are just too noisy, too grey, too many people. but on the other hand, ppl in the country are boring af... so. guess i could live anywhere where i had some peace and quiet and nature on the one hand, and some interesting ppl on the other - one can dream ig, lol

3. If you could learn a new skill, what would it be?

any skill would be nice X’D but i guess writing, always. and not being a procrastinator. just being able to focus and actually finish/achieve smth. would be great (if that’s even a “skill”)

4. do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar?

coffee sometimes (aka when it’s bad coffee lol); tea never (tho i’d put in honey sometimes)

5. What was your favourite book as a child?

gosh i have no idea. i remember liking most books by Marc De Bel and Patrick Lagrou (both Flemish writers) and then as a teenager ig it had to be Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban!

6. Do you prefer baths or showers?

i like both, but maybe baths, which have that additional element of “i’ve got time to relax rn” which is always great

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be?

werewolf :’) or smth that lives in the ocean (not a mermaid tho, i’m not 12) like a giant turtle or smth, or some big cat (i don’t know my mythology wow), or a dragon :33333

8. Paper or electronic books?

paper! ♥ which goes against my eco principles but i just loooove books and can’t get myself to read on a screen

9. What is your favourite item of clothing?

my mom jeans :’)

10. Do you like your name? Would you like to change it?

i don’t like it at all D: if money wasn’t a factor, i probably would’ve changed it already, sorry @ my parents but yes

11. Who is a mentor to you?

George Harrison :’)

12. Would you like to be famous? If so, what for?

writing fantasy/scifi books or shows/movies pls and thanks ♥

13. Are you a restless sleeper?

i sleep like a log, which ig is why i wake up feeling like one XD

14. Do you consider yourself to be a romantic person?

lol. i used to... guess deep down i still am, even tho i’ve completely embraced ace/aro life for now. would never go for any of that sappy stuff tho, but some epic kind of soulmates love, i’m one of the idiots who believes in that shit :’)

15. Which element best represents you?

water ♥ and i guess air to a certain extent

16. Who do you want to be closer to?

lmao @theleavesoflorien, Henry Cavill, HARD SAME :’))) or Dhani Harrison for that matter :3 ~the 2 Main Platonic Baes~ but in all realness, i’d just wish i had any rl friends that i vibed with on a soul level /rip

17. Do you miss someone at the moment?

my brother i guess, always ♥

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory.

re-enacting The Lion King with my brother XD and generally just making up stories with him - @theleavesoflorien, we did the radio shows/quizzes too! brilliant XD

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten?

fermented shark, in Iceland. i highkey would not recommend

20. What are you most thankful for?

still being alive i suppose :’) tho sometimes these days i wish i wasn’t. also, great music, books, tv shows, movies ♥ and whatever unspoiled nature we still have

21. Do you like spicy food?

sure! tho not like really spicy ig

22. Have you ever met someone famous?

i met Michael Palin in 2018 at a book signing ♥_♥ after a talk he did. and i said i’d liked the talk and he said thanks :’))))) also met Terry Gilliam last year and we talked for 2 secs ♥ and ig there were others but i can’t remember right now. oh yeah, talked to Finn Jones at a con one time :’)

23. Do you keep a diary or journal?

lol yeah like about 5 of them XD all for different aspects of my life i suppose. i have the worst memory in the world, so i need this to literally remember things

24. Do you prefer to use pen or pencil?

pen

25. What is your star sign?

cancer sun / leo moon / scorpio rising

26. Do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy?

oh my fuck who would like soggy cereal o_____O

27. What would you want your legacy to be?

idk, just generally being remembered at all would be nice. would be great to have contributed something noticeable, but having made people happy in some way at all would do ig

28. Do you like reading? What was the last book you read?

LMAO yes :’) i’m reading a few dozen atm, but the last one i finished was Sign of Chaos by Roger Zelazny, part of the Amber series i’ve read about 6 times now instead of reading new things

29. How do you show someone you love them?

no idea :’)) just be there for them ig. giving them some of my time must mean i love them bc i loooovvvveee my time :’)

30. Do you like ice in your drinks?

not really actually. if it needs to be cold i’d rather just have it chilled than have ice in it

31. What are you afraid of?

dying without really having lived :’) /harsh truths hour

32. What is your favourite scent?

peaches, basil, privet, monoï, ....

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname?

gosh, depends on the situation. i guess i’d say sir or madam (without the surname tho) and i mean older as in at least 20y older

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life?

not working for anyone else another day in my life. except if i found something i really want to get behind and put some effort in. hopefully write for pleasure tho, which would hopefully come easier since i wouldn’t be stressed at all times. i’d like to live near the ocean and the jungle, surrounded by a only few but likeminded people ♥

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean?

love ♥ the ocean, tho i also scares me lol. would say a natural pool or a lake without too many weeds in it :’)

36. What would you do if you found $50 on the ground?

take it ofc

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Did you make a wish?

oh yes! i always make a wish :) and the same one each time too

38. What is one thing you would want to teach your children?

that they’re okay, that of course growth is important, but that they’re enough as they are, and only have to change if they want it, not for anyone else. i’d try to teach them empathy and respect for all beings and the earth we live on

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it?

got three already, but i’m contemplating George Harrison’s squiggly sun drawing from his Here Comes the Sun manuscript, maybe on my ankle? still considering Tolkien’s dragon drawing too. an ॐ somewhere definitely, maybe combined with some lotus thing, idk yet..

40. What can you hear right now?

Pink Floyd - The Great Gig in the Sky (Live, from Pulse)

41. Where do you feel the safest?

in my flat. or in nature when there’s no one around. in fact i feel safe most places where there’s not too many people around

42. What is one thing you want to overcome/conquer?

my procrastination

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be?

ooof, difficult choice. maybe just super far back to hunter-gatherer times tbh XD like okay, not that intellectually or spiritually developed, but still in touch with the actual earth we live on as simply another species, before assuming we were anything “more” or w/e, before any money or power or religion came into play ♥

44. What is your most used emoji?

i’m on the computer now so, hmmmm but: ok hand, and the crying emoji, and the two hearts, and ofc the “this is fine” content smiling one XD sorry idk how to describe it

45. Describe yourself using one word.

idiot

46. What do you regret the most?

not having taken my life into my own hands in my 20s... but i honestly try not to regret much anymore. i guess my 20s couldn’t have gone much different all things considered, and i did learn from them

47. Last movie you saw?

Mortal Kombat X’D

48. Last tv show you watched?

Red Dwarf ♥♥♥

49. Invent a word and its meaning

this is too difficult :’)))))

as usual i’m lazy and tag anyone who feels like doing this! ~♥

#//tagged #//answered #//personal #theleavesoflorien

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