#i just immediately exited the video. like you can just turn the tiktoks off man. who cares | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

viastro · 4 years ago

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in the spring | jeon wonwoo

ミ★ synopsis: in which you suffer from a car accident and have amnesia when you wake up. wonwoo is your current boyfriend, but you keep remembering your ex. [inspired by the numerous tiktoks i saw with this prompt]

ミ★ genre: angst, some fluff, some humor

ミ★ warnings: minor (?) character death

ミ★ word count: 7,663

ミ★ pairings: wonwoo x female reader (featuring ?? x female reader)

ミ★ notes: hi guys ! i wanna start off by saying that this is not realistically accurate ! i did some research on amnesia, but i’m not sure if this is still accurate at all. i also didn’t want to mention who the other member is, so it’ll be a bit of a surprise. i hope you guys enjoy this one, make sure to give wonwoo lots of love !

“Oh! She’s waking up! Go get Wonwoo!”

“I already told him and he’s quite literally sprinting up three flights of stairs.”

“Why would he do that? There’s literally an elevator?!”

“Guys, if you could step to the side so that I can do a proper checkup on the patient.” You let out a quiet groan when you open your eyes, just to immediately close them when you see how bright it is. The numerous voices don’t lessen when you attempt to open your eyes again, and you lock eyes with an older woman in a white coat. You frown when you realize she’s a doctor, and you look around the room to find three other guys staring at you with tears in their eyes around your hospital bed.

“Why am I-” You cough at how dry your throat is, and the doctor immediately hands you a plastic cup filled with water. You give her a tight-lipped smile as a thank you, before taking a long sip of the liquid. Once the cup is empty, you hand it back to the doctor before glancing at the three guys again, and you tilt your head when you find that they’re all incredibly handsome.

“What am I doing in the hospital? And why are there three handsome guys crying as they stare at me?” You ask as you turn to glance back at the doctor, and you raise an eyebrow when you hear one of them let out a loud gasp.

“Oh my God, she doesn’t remember us-”

“YN!” You jump slightly at the loud voice, turning your head to see a man with blue hair at the doorway to your hospital room, tears filling his eyes as he stares at you.

damn, he’s handsome too.

“Sir, please let me do a full check-”

“Y-yn, I’m so fucking sorry.” The blue haired man cries as he walks over to your side and grasps your hand. Your eyes widen slightly, and you glance around at the other guys to see them crying as well.

“W-who are you?” You tentatively ask, and you feel his grip on your hand freeze. He slowly looks up into your eyes, and you watch as more tears escape as he stares at you with a shocked expression on his face. You internally pout to yourself, he’s too pretty to cry over me.

“As I expected, excuse me sir.” The blue haired man steps away from you to make room for the doctor, but the expression on his face remains unwavering as he stares at you. The doctor proceeds to do a checkup on your vitals, as well as shining that bright light in your eyes that makes you wanna pass away.

She leans back after she’s done and tilts her head at you. You mimic her, and she lets out a chuckle before her expression turns more serious again.

“Yn, do you know why you’re here?” She asks, and you shake your head no. The doctor purses her lips and begins to softly explain how you ended up in the hospital, and how long you’ve been here. Your mouth slowly drops open at the news, and you raise a hand to touch your head, but the blue haired man stops you before you can do so. He reluctantly releases his grip on your hand, and your arm falls back to your side.

“I-I was in a car accident four days ago and went into a coma? And I just woke up?” You ask, and the doctor nods her head solemnly. You bite the inside of your cheek, “And I have amnesia?”

She nods again, and you glance at the four handsome men who are staring at you with swollen eyes. Feeling guilty for not remembering who they are, you find that you’re too shy to ask for their names. The one with black hair seems to notice, and he attempts to give you a reassuring smile, but you can see the pain in his eyes as he steps forward towards you.

“Yn, I’m Vernon, your best friend. We met in our first year of uni, six years ago.” He tells you, and you recite his name to try and ring any bells, but you come back with nothing. He gives you a grin and shakes his head at you, “It’s okay, you won’t regain your memories just like that. Don’t stress too much about it.”

You clench your fist at your side and nod your head, feeling grateful that he’s being understanding, but upset that you’re putting him and the other three in pain. One by one, the other two boys introduce themselves to you, Mingyu and Soonyoung, until you’re left with the last guy. The blue haired beauty who seems to be in the most pain out of the four of them. He slowly walks up to your side and sits in the seat beside your bed.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, and he bites his lip, looking down at his hands when tears fill his eyes again. You find tears filling your own eyes at his sadness, and you grip the bedsheet between your hands when he looks back up into your eyes.

“I-I’m Wonwoo. Your boyfriend of two years.” He tells you, letting out a sad smile. You stare blankly at him for a moment, letting the information sink in, before you turn to glance at the other three and the doctor. You turn back towards Wonwoo, and you find yourself incredibly confused at how you managed to pull this man.

So being in shock you ask, “My what?”

The guys let out a quiet laugh from beside you, and you watch as an amused smile etches itself onto Wonwoo’s face at your question. He runs a hand through his blue hair before nodding his head, “Your boyfriend of two years.”

You squint at him, “You’re capping.”

He chuckles and shakes his head at you, leaning back into the seat. “I’m not. You were the one who begged me to be your boyfriend though.”

“Aye, don’t lie to her Wonwoo. We have the videos of you swooning for her when you first laid eyes on her at my birthday party.” Soonyoung says, and a smile forms on your face when Wonwoo scowls at the blonde. You shake your head, but let out a little groan at the throb you feel in your head. Wonwoo immediately stands up and leans closer to you, asking if you’re okay as he checks your head, and you give the pretty man a small smile.

“I’m okay Wonwoo, don’t worry. It’s probably just because of my concussion and receiving all this information too.” You tell him, and he purses his lips. The doctor nods her head at your statement, telling Wonwoo and the other guys that it’s true.

“Dr.Park, do you know when yn might get her memories back?” Mingyu asks after she checks on the bandages on your forehead. She leans back and gives them a small smile, “It shouldn’t be long. It won’t come back all at once like a wave, but small bits and pieces will come back until she can remember. Showing photographs and videos, or telling stories can help speed up the process as well. Don’t stress that much about it though.”

The five of you nod your heads, and the doctor gives you a grin. “I’ll go and tell the nurses to bring you dinner, if you need anything, just press the button or have one of your bodyguards go and ask for us.”

You let out a chuckle at the term she used and nod your head. She bows towards the four guys before stepping out of the room, leaving the five of you alone. You watch as Vernon nudges Mingyu and Soonyoung, before motioning towards the door with his chin.

“We’ll leave the two of you alone.” Vernon says, and you nod, watching as the three of them exit the room as well, leaving you and Wonwoo alone. You turn your head to glance at the blue haired man, just to find his catlike eyes already boring into yours. The two of you sit in silence for a moment, just gauging each other's presence, before you squint at him again.

“There’s no way you’re my boyfriend.”

“I’m literally your boyfriend.”

“Proof?” Wonwoo chuckles, pulling out his phone and turning it in your direction. Your eyes widen slightly when you see that his lockscreen is a photo of the two of you at the beach, with you laughing and him staring down lovingly at you.

You bite the inside of your cheek, “So you are my boyfriend.”

Wonwoo smiles, nodding his head. He turns the phone towards his face to unlock it, before turning it back towards you so that you can see his lockscreen. You pout at the sight of it, just a photo of you in the kitchen doing a heart with your arms towards the camera.

“I wish I could remember this.” You mumble sadly as you stare at the photo, having no recollection of what occurred. Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek at how dejected you look, and he reaches out and tentatively rests his hand over yours, causing you to look up at him.

“I can tell you about my lockscreen and homescreen, if you want?”

The two of you stare into each other's eyes for a moment, and you find nothing but love in his gaze as his eyes bore into yours. Letting out a hopeful smile, you recall what the doctor told you about how photos, videos, and hearing memories can speed up the process of regaining your memory, so you nod your head.

Wonwoo grins before beginning to explain the extremely eventful history of the photos he showed you until your food arrives.

“Good morning, yn.” You glance up from your phone to find Wonwoo walking in with hot cocoa in his hands, and he watches your face light up when he hands it to you. You smile up at him, “Thank you, Wonwoo.”

He nods his head and settles down in the seat beside your hospital bed, and the two of you converse quietly as you each drink your hot beverages.

It’s been a couple days since you’ve woken up, and Wonwoo has come to visit everyday. You learned from the nurses who have been watching over you that Wonwoo would take care of you when you were in a coma, and would even end up falling asleep beside you until visiting hours were over. However, you haven’t been able to remember anything about him.

“Oh, Wonwoo.” You say when you notice a few strands of his blue hair sticking up. He glances up at you from the video he was showing you to find you pointing to his head. “Your hair is a bit messy.”

He raises an eyebrow, and raises his hand up to fix it himself, but you stop him with a grin. “I’ll get it for you.”

Wonwoo smiles when you reach out to flatten the strands of hair, feeling like this is a step forward since you’ve been cautious with him since you’ve woken up. While you may not know it right now, you would always pat his head whenever you saw him or fix his hair for him.

As soon as your hand rests on the top of his head, a patchy memory floods your brain, causing you to immediately retract your hand and grasp your head. Wonwoo looks up and stands from his chair as soon as he sees the grimace on your face.

“Yn? Yn??”

“Yn!” You let out a laugh at his spiked up hair that you did with the wet blue hair dye on the top of his head, and his mock anger turns into a giggle at the happiness on your expression. The two of you lock eyes in the mirror, and you flash him a bright smile.

“I said you can dye my hair blue, not make me look like sharkboy from sharkboy and lavagirl.” You don’t respond, but instead shoot finger guns at him in the mirror and he laughs at your silliness.

“You should have never given me this power.” You say with a grin, and he lets out a sigh, making you pinch his shoulder as you take off the plastic gloves from your hands. He smiles, turning to you and puckering up his lips.

You raise an eyebrow, “You wanna do the Kylie Jenner challenge too?”

He scoffs at you, and you giggle, immediately bending down to press a soft kiss against his lips. He smiles, muttering the three words that always make your heart burst.

“I love you, yn.” You open your eyes and stare into his deep brown ones that always seem to hold mischief in them. You peck his lips one more time before muttering back,

“I love you too-”

“Yn, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Your eyes open and you immediately look up to see Wonwoo staring at you with a concerned expression on his face. Your hand lowers from your head and rests over your beating heart, “Yn, take deep breaths. Follow me, okay? In…”

You copy Wonwoo’s lead until your breathing finally goes back to normal, and he lets out a sigh of relief when you’ve finally calmed down. He sits back down in his seat beside your bed, and watches as you just stare blankly at the white bedsheets.

“Yn, what happened? Did you remember something?” Wonwoo asks after a moment, and you have an internal debate with yourself on whether or not you should tell him that you didn’t remember him but someone from your past. You bite the inside of your cheek, knowing that it would only hurt him.

but i should be honest, he’s my boyfriend.

but his feelings would be hurt…

aaaAAAAAAAAAA DAMN YOU AMNESIA !

And so you turn back towards Wonwoo and shake your head with a reassuring smile, “No, just a small headache. Dr.Park told me that the small bursts of pain would be a common occurrence, so don’t worry too much, okay, Woo?”

Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek at the nickname that slipped past your mouth, a burst of hope in his chest at the fact that you said his nickname unconsciously. He lets out a small smile and nods his head, the worry now disappearing from his face as he begins to show you the video again.

All while you watch it with the feeling of guilt in your heart, wondering who that person was in your memory, and why it wasn’t Wonwoo.

“You’re joking.”

“I’m literally not.”

“No, you’re joking.”

“Yn, you quite literally almost confessed your feelings to Wonwoo while you were drunk off your mind.” Vernon tells you, and you continue to shake your head. Soonyoung, Mingyu, and Wonwoo laugh beside you, and you scowl at the three.

“There’s absolutely no way I did that-”

“W-Wonwoo,” Soonyoung begins, mimicking your voice as he starts to sniffle and fake some tears. You watch in horror as he turns towards your boyfriend, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Curse you and your pretty face and nice personality! Fuck you Wonwoo!”

“Stop…”

“What are you doing, yn?” Wonwoo asks, immediately fulfilling his role as the two recreate the night you absolutely humiliated yourself. Soonyoung sloppily grabs Wonwoo by the collar of his shirt, and shakes him slightly, and you raise a hand to your mouth in shock.

“Do you know how-” You immediately close your eyes and cover your face with your hands when you begin to remember something. Wonwoo and Soonyoung stop their roleplay as soon as they see you doubled over, and Wonwoo sits on the side of your bed and begins to rub your back.

“Yn, you need to stop drinking.” Vernon says from your side, and you push him back, drunkenly holding the half-empty bottle of soju as you squint at your handsome best friend. “N-” You let out a burp mid-sentence, and Vernon’s lip quirks up slightly. “No.”

Vernon rolls his eyes, stepping over and grabbing the bottle from your hold easily, before walking back into his kitchen and placing it on the highest shelf. You curse to yourself, knowing that you can’t climb up onto the counters when you’re drunk.

“Tell me why you’re drinking so much when you know how bad your hangover is going to be tomorrow.” Vernon says as he sits down in the seat beside you at his kitchen table. You bite the inside of your cheek when tears fill your eyes after a moment of thinking, and Vernon’s amusement immediately turns into concern when he catches sight of this. You rest your cheek onto the table, and Vernon watches as a single tear slips past your eye.

“I think I love Wonwoo.” You mutter quietly, so quiet that Vernon almost misses it. He lets out a soft smile at your confession, and nods his head, having already sensed this by the way you look at the man.

“I think he loves you too, yn.” You bite your bottom lip, sitting up and resting your head in your hands as more tears spill from your eyes. Vernon reaches out and pulls you onto his shoulder, whispering words of comfort.

You suck in a breath once you open your eyes again, and immediately turn towards Wonwoo, who is already doing the breathing exercise to try and get you to calm down. Once your breathing goes back to normal, you rest a hand over your heart, and turn towards Vernon, who’s staring at you in concern.

“Did you remember something?” Mingyu asks, and you nod your head slowly. The guys all perk up in interest, and you let out a pained smile as you look at Vernon, before turning to glance at Wonwoo.

“I remembered me crying over you in Vernon’s kitchen, I think it was probably a few days after I humiliated myself in front of you.” You tell Wonwoo, and you watch as a bright smile slowly forms on his face. He pulls you into a hug, and your eyes widen slightly at the contact.

“This means you’ll start remembering things soon.” Wonwoo says excitedly, and you let out a close-lipped smile, nodding your head as you rub his back softly. Your eyes trail over to Vernon, whose eyes also appear to be sad as they stare into yours. Biting the inside of your cheek, you look away, now filled with more questions than answers.

“So you remembered most of your memories with Vernon, Mingyu, and Soonyoung?” Wonwoo asks as the two of you walk around the garden at the hospital, and you nod your head with a small smile. Wonwoo nods his head happily, feeling grateful that your memories are slowly coming back.

“Maybe you haven’t remembered most of our memories because you’ve known me the shortest?” You purse your lips in consideration of his question, nodding your head as it does seem to make sense. The two of you walk quietly, just soaking in the warm, Spring sun.

You’re going to be discharged soon since your concussion seems to be almost 100% gone. They just have to do a few more scans and you should be good to leave by Saturday. You’ve been dreaming of most of your memories from the recent years with the boys, but you haven’t remembered most of the memories with Wonwoo.

“Oh!” You turn to see Wonwoo bend down and pluck a daisy from the ground. He turns back towards you, a shy smile on his face as he tucks it behind your ear. The heat rushes to your face, and you open your mouth to say thank you, when that familiar feeling floods your head again.

You raise a hand up to your forehead, and Wonwoo immediately grasps your hand and leads you over towards the bench nearby so that you can sit down. You double over, covering your face with your hands as the memory floods your brain.

“You really wanted to fulfill your weeb fantasy, huh?” You tease, and the blue haired beauty rolls his eyes at you. You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek to reassure that you’re just joking around with him. The two of you walk around the square, looking at the brilliant shades of pink from the fully bloomed cherry blossom trees surrounding the two of you.

“I can see why cherry blossoms are your favorite flower.” You mutter softly, extending your hand out and watching as a soft, pink petal falls onto the palm of your hand. He smiles at the sight, taking a picture of you as you stare at the petal. You turn towards him when you hear the sound of the camera shutter, and you squint your eyes at him.

“What? You look pretty.” He tells you easily, and you bite the inside of your cheek at his honesty. You glance back down at the petal, only for the wind to push it off your hand. You watch as it flies in his direction, before landing on the top of his head. You let out a smile, and he chuckles, picking it out of his hair.

“Did you know that catching a falling cherry blossom makes your first love come true?” You ask, and he raises an eyebrow, stepping over and wrapping his arms around you. You smile brightly when he steals a quick kiss from your lips, and you wrap your arms around his middle. He lets out a sigh, “Does that mean we’re gonna get married?”

You shrug your shoulders with a chuckle, before the two of you pull away and begin walking around the square again.

“What if we got married in the Spring? So we can have a cherry blossom wedding.” He asks after a moment of the two of you walking around in a relative silence, and you giggle at his idea. He turns towards you, pinching your shoulder with a smile on his face, “Why are you laughing at my dreams?”

You pinch him back, eliciting a slight squeak from him, causing you to laugh. Letting out a sigh, you smile softly at the premise of the two of you getting married one day. “We’re two broke third year university students. I don’t think we should be so ambitious just yet.”

“Let me dream.” He tells you pettily after a moment of silence passes between the two of you, and you stop walking, causing him to raise an eyebrow at you. You wrap your arms around his waist, nuzzling your head into his chest without another word, and he lets out a soft smile, before wrapping his arms around you. You mutter, “I’m kidding, I like the idea of a cherry blossom wedding.”

He kisses the top of your head, “I know.”

“Let’s take a picture before we go and get food, mm?” He tells you after a moment of the two of you just holding each other, and you nod your head, pulling away so that he can pull out his phone. He holds his phone down so that the cherry blossom trees can be seen in the background, and the two of you flash bright smiles as he takes a couple pictures of you both.

“I’ll add this to our wedding slideshow folder.” He says, and you let out a loud laugh at the joke, slapping his shoulder, causing him to giggle. You double over in laughter when you see him actually add it to an existing folder titled wedding slideshow <3333, and he laughs beside you.

“Happy three year anniversary, yn.” He tells you once the two of you calm down, and you smile brightly up at him. You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips as the cherry blossom petals fall around the two of you, before pulling away with a bright smile on your face.

“Happy three year anniversary.”

“Yn, breathe.” You let out a loud gasp once the memory stops, and you lock eyes with Wonwoo who is sitting beside you with a concerned expression on his face. Wonwoo’s eyes soon fill with worry, and he reaches up and cups your face, thumbs swiping under your eyes, “Yn, why are you crying?”

You didn’t even realize you were crying until Wonwoo mentioned it, and you rest a hand over his wrist as he continues to wipe away more tears spilling from your eyes. You find that you don’t have an answer to his question as he pulls you into his arms, and your head rests into his shoulder as more tears continue to pour out.

You don’t have an answer.

You and Wonwoo quietly read together in your hospital bedroom, with you being able to be discharged in a couple days. The two of you haven’t spoken on why you were crying the other day, as Wonwoo saw that you didn’t know yourself.

You roll onto your side so that you’re facing Wonwoo, who is sitting on the small couch beside the window. You peek over the pages of your book, just to find your blue haired boyfriend deeply engaged with what he’s reading. Letting out a small grin, you continue to watch fondly as he turns the page, only for his eyes to look up from his book and lock with yours.

“Like what you see?” Wonwoo asks, and you roll your eyes, hiding your face with your book again.

“You wish.” You answer, and he chuckles. It’s only when you glance over your book to take another peek, that you feel the familiar sensation fill your senses. Wonwoo looks up from his book when he hears you let out a curse, and he immediately stands up and walks over to your side when he sees you covering your face with your hands.

You glance up from your homework when you feel his fingers intertwine with yours. You let out a small smile at the neutral expression on his face, as if he didn’t just initiate skinship with you as the two of you study for your finals.

You look back down at your book, before falling back into the rhythm of taking notes at a decent pace. That is, until you hear a loud snore beside you. You choose to ignore it at first, until you hear another one escape his mouth after a few seconds. And so you turn your head to find your pretty boyfriend fast asleep on his Chemistry book, hand still holding yours as he does so.

Pursing your lips, you check the time on your phone, just to find that it’s 2 in the morning. The two of you have been studying for at least 12 hours now, you both deserve to sleep. You move to let go of his hand so that you can gently wake him, but his grasp on your hand tightens instead.

“Are you awake?” You ask with an amused smile on your face, and you watch as he slowly opens his eyes and stares into yours. You giggle, reaching your hand up and patting his head fondly as he groggily sits up from the table. Not letting go of your hand, he rubs his eyes with the back of his free hand before standing up.

“Are we going to bed now?” He asks groggily, and you nod your head. He smiles, before dragging you over to your room without another word. You mutter out protests about how the two of you didn’t clean up your workspace yet, but immediately get shut down when he plops down under the covers and pulls you into his side.

“We can clean up tomorrow morning.” He tells you softly, pressing a kiss to the back of your head and closing his eyes. Biting the inside of your cheek, he squeezes your hand, and nuzzles his head into the back of your neck.

“Goodnight, yn.” He mumbles, and you smile, before closing your eyes as well.

“Night night.”

“Fuck.” You curse to yourself through your heavy breathing, still unsure of what his name could possibly be. Wonwoo soothingly rubs your back as you rest your head onto his chest, harshly biting the inside of your cheek as you’re filled with even more questions rather than answers.

“Did you remember something?” Wonwoo asks after a moment, and you don’t respond. You just silently wrap your arms around his waist, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck for comfort. “Can we just stay like this? Please?”

Wonwoo nods his head, tentatively wrapping his arms around your frame. He cradles your head with his hand, and whispers soothing words into your ear. “It’s okay yn, it’ll be okay.”

You squeeze your eyes shut when you feel that familiar feeling again, and you tightly grip Wonwoo’s shirt. His eyebrows furrow in concern, and he tries to pull away to check on you, but you continue to hold onto his waist. “Yn? What’s wrong? Yn?”

“Yn?” Wonwoo watches as you wordlessly walk to the bathroom after slamming your laptop shut. He follows after you, and his eyes immediately widen in alarm when he sees you grab a pair of scissors and raise it to your hair.

“Yn!” You stop when you hear Wonwoo’s voice, and you turn your head to see Wonwoo standing at the entrance to the bathroom, staring at you with worry. You bite the inside of your cheek, and drop the scissors back onto the bathroom counter. Feeling your eyes brimming with tears, you attempt to hold them back.

“I-I’m okay-” You get cut off when Wonwoo steps over and wraps his arms around you, immediately cradling your head with his hand. The rest of your excuse dies in your throat when Wonwoo nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck.

“You don’t always have to be okay, yn.” Wonwoo tells you, and that’s when the tears spill from your eyes. You wrap your arms around his waist, crying out that you can’t get along with anyone at work, and that your boss seems to hate you.

“I bet she doesn’t hate you.” Wonwoo reassures, and you shake your head as you sniffle into his shoulder.

“She absolutely does! I,” You sniffle again, and Wonwoo lets out a small smile when you mutter out how gross this is before continuing. “I got tea yesterday and forgot to get her a donut like I always do, and she hasn’t smiled at me since!”

“Yn, I don’t know how anyone could hate you. She might’ve just been having a bad day.” Wonwoo says softly as he runs his hand through your hair. Shaking your head, you let out another wail about how you’re going to get fired, and he bites the inside of his cheek at how silly you’re being.

“Try and talk to her tomorrow, mm? And invite your co-workers out to get lunch or something. Friendships always blossom over food, trust me.” You close your eyes once your breathing goes back to normal, and Wonwoo slowly pulls back so that he can get a good look at your face. He lets out a fond smile when he sees your puffy eyes, and a little bit of snot that escaped from your nose.

Not letting go of you, he leans back and grabs a tissue, and begins wiping away your tears. He places the tissue over your nose, “Blow.”

And so you blow your nose, not to say that it’s your proudest moment, but Wonwoo doesn’t care.

“Everything will be okay, and if you wanna cut your hair then make sure that you’re in the right frame of mind when you do so.” Wonwoo tells you, and you softly slap his shoulder, eliciting a chuckle from him. You finally let out a small grin, “Thank you, Woo.”

He nods his head, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Anything for you, yn.”

You open your eyes and loosen your hold on Wonwoo. He pulls back and examines your face, “Did you remember something again? In just a span of a few minutes?”

You nod your head, giving him a small smile. You reach out and pat his head, making his eyes soften immediately. “I remembered me almost chopping my hair, and you convincing me not to.”

Wonwoo’s eyes brighten, before he lets out a little chuckle, causing you to raise an eyebrow. He turns his head and presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, eliciting a squeak from you, and warmth to rise to your cheeks as you slowly lower your hand back down.

Smiling at your shyness he says, “That’s happened multiple times. You have to be specific.”

To which you scowl, slapping his arm, causing him to laugh and tell you he’s only partially joking. Even through the joy you and Wonwoo feel for you remembering something about your guys’ relationship, the heavy feeling in your heart is still prominent.

“I’ll come back a bit late tonight.” You pout at him, and he giggles at your cuteness, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. His big, bright eyes are filled with love as he stares at you, and the roots of his black hair are beginning to show. The two of you don’t mind though, you both think the blue and black looks nice.

“We’re supposed to watch the new episodes of Haikyuu! tonight though.” You say, and he grins, squeezing your face between his hands.

“We can still watch it tonight, I just have to meet with my group for econ to discuss our project.” He tells you, and you purse your lips, before you nod your head. You know that this project is crucial for this course, considering the rumors you’ve heard from the fourth years at uni who took the class the year before.

“Okay, make sure to text me, mm?” He nods his head, before pulling you into another hug. You let out a small sigh, knowing you won’t get tired of this feeling.

Home. Home is wherever he is.

“You want me to buy you any drinks when I’m on my way back to your apartment? Tea? Boba?” He asks once the two of you pull away, and you purse your lips in thought. He lets out his melodic laugh at the expression on your face, and you break out into a smile. “Can you buy fried chicken? So that we can eat it as we watch?”

He nods his head, before grabbing the doorknob and turning it. He pauses though, and you raise an eyebrow when he turns back towards you and presses another kiss to your lips.

“I love you, yn. I’ll be back later.” He says against your lips, and you nod your head with a soft smile on your face.

“I love you too. Be safe!” And with that, he walks out of your apartment.

You glance at the time, seeing that it’s 10 PM. You knew that he was going to be a bit late, but you didn’t expect him to be this late. You open up your messages with him, just to see the last texts between you two where he asked what kind of fried chicken to get.

You’re about to turn off your phone when your screen lights up with a call, and you see that it’s Vernon. Raising an eyebrow, you answer and place the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Yn.” You frown at the sound of his labored breathing, and you slowly sit up when you hear him sniffle.

“Vernon, is everything oka-”

“Yn.” He cuts you off, and you bite the inside of your cheek nervously at the shakiness to his voice. His next two words send an icy feeling through your heart, and you find yourself scrambling towards the front door without a second thought.

“It’s Joshua.”

You wake up with a loud gasp, resting your hand over your heart as you stare at the light beginning to stream in through the hospital window. You raise your hands up to your face, feeling the wetness of your cheeks as you hear your heart pounding against your ears.

You feel a sob building up in your chest, and you double over as you begin to cry. Grabbing the pillows, you chuck them across the room as you start to scream. You don’t know how long it takes until someone walks into the room, finding you screaming and crying out Joshua’s name in agony.

You don’t even realize that it’s Vernon who is holding you to try and calm you down, telling you that it’s okay, that it’ll be okay.

All you know is that you remember.

You remember everything.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“How are you feeling?”

You stare up at the white ceiling, looking at the numerous holes as you try to think of your answer. You turn your head to see Vernon staring at you with a small smile on his face, chin resting in his hand. You let out a grin at the sight, feeling a sense of comfort from Vernon as you look at him.

“I don’t know. Feeling like I’m going through the five stages of grief again.” You mutter quietly, turning back to count the number of holes in the ceiling.

So far you’ve counted 457, nope. 458 now.

“When you didn’t remember me, I knew you most likely didn’t remember Joshua.” Vernon says, and you bite the inside of your cheek at the memory of him.

Your first love.

“Do you still think of him?” You ask quietly, remembering Joshua’s bright smile whenever he looked at you. Vernon lets out a sad smile, nodding his head as he adjusts himself in the seat beside your hospital bed.

“Everyday. I think of him everyday.” Vernon answers, and the two of you stay silent for a moment, letting everything soak in. You sit up in the bed, running a hand through your hair as you pull your knees up to your chest. “Do you think he hates me?”

Vernon immediately shakes his head ‘no’ at you, and you let out a sigh. Vernon reaches over and pats your knee, making you turn to look at your best friend. “Remember when we had that talk? The night you cried on my shoulder?”

You purse your lips, nodding your head as you remember the full story now. Vernon gives you a reassuring smile, “Everything I told you then, still applies now.”

When you finally calm down, you pull away from Vernon’s hug, and wipe away the tears on your cheeks. You do a bad job at it, so Vernon reaches out and wipes away the rest with a tissue. Letting out a tired sigh, you slam your fist on the table.

“I can’t love Wonwoo, Vernon. I can’t do that to Joshua.” You say, and Vernon shakes his head at you. The two of you sit in silence, with your leg shaking underneath the table at the memory of Joshua.

“Yn, you know how much Joshua loves you?” Vernon asks after a moment, and you turn to glance at him, waiting for him to tell you. Vernon smiles sadly, reaching out and patting your head.

“He loves you so much that he’d do anything for you to be happy, even if you find happiness being with another person.” Tears fill your eyes as you stare at Vernon, and you look down at the table. You cover your face with your hands, and Vernon sucks in a breath.

“You and Joshua will forever deserve better than what the two of you got, but he wouldn’t want you to risk your own possibility at happiness for the sake of him.”

You bite the inside of your cheek at the memory, and rest your head on the top of your knees. Vernon lets out a small smile and glances over towards the door, seeing that familiar blue head of hair waiting by the window. Vernon motions for him to come in, and he slowly opens the door.

You look up at the sound of the door opening, and you break out into a smile when you lock eyes with Wonwoo. He smiles softly at you, and his eyes slowly widen when you get up off the hospital bed and immediately wrap your arms around his middle.

“Is everything alright?” Wonwoo asks after glancing at Vernon to see the black haired beauty shaking his head ‘no’ in his direction. Wonwoo tentatively wraps his arms around your frame, cradling your head softly.

“I remember everything.” You answer after a moment, and Wonwoo freezes in your hold. He slowly pulls away to get a look at your face, and he sees you looking up at him with that familiar twinkle in your eyes. “Really?”

You nod your head, and you watch as Wonwoo’s face slowly breaks out into a smile. His hands trail up to cup your face with pure joy on his features, “You remember everything? Even the time you jumped into the pool to try and avoid me when we weren’t dating yet?”

You immediately frown, “Who told you that?”

To which Wonwoo’s eyes flick to the right, before glancing back at you. You let out a gasp of betrayal when you comprehend why he looked in that direction. You turn towards Vernon, who is now slowly raising his hands up in surrender. You point at him, “You told Wonwoo?!”

“It ain’t me.”

“It was you.”

“Wonwoo!” The three of you begin to bicker, with three different arguments going on at the exact same time. The three of you are so loud that you fail to notice Mingyu, Soonyoung, and Dr.Park step into the room with congratulatory gifts for you getting discharged.

“Should we… step out?” Soonyoung asks quietly when you move to put Vernon in a headlock, only for Wonwoo to hold you back from doing so. It’s only then that the three of you realize that you have company, and you all pause your movements.

“Oh my God… heyyyyy…” You say when Wonwoo sets you back down on your feet. Mingyu lets out a giggle when Vernon reaches out to move away a strand of hair on your face, only for you to slap his hand away.

You still feel betrayed.

“I see that you have your memories back?” Dr.Park asks, and you nod your head with a small smile. She grins as she hands you a bunch of documents about your stay, and the tests you took. “I’m glad you’re doing alright. Wonwoo already checked you out, so you just have to change into your clothes and you’re all set to go.”

You nod your head, telling her thank you as she steps out the door. You glance at the four guys all staring at you, and you squint your eyes at them. “I have to change.”

They don’t understand at first, until Wonwoo’s eyes widen and he immediately grabs Vernon by the arm, and begins shoving Soonyoung and Mingyu out the door. You let out a smile and wave your hand at the four once the door closes behind them.

“Well, it’s time to go.” You mutter to yourself, before heading into the bathroom to change.

“Where should we eat as a celebratory dinner on yn getting her memories back and getting discharged?” Soonyoung asks as the five of you head towards the hospital exit. You glance up at Wonwoo when the guys begin spewing out different food options, and you grin when you see the soft smile on his face.

“Fried chicken?”

“Nah, that’s for tonight’s celebration. How about pho?”

“Oh! Oh! What about bbq?” Your stomach grumbles at the mention of grilled meat, and the guys let out a laugh. Vernon pats your head softly, “Guess we have a winner on where we’ll eat lunch.”

The five of you finally exit the hospital, and you stop your movements right when you lay eyes on the numerous pink petals on the sidewalk before you. You slowly glance up to see the fully bloomed cherry blossom tree. Out of habit, you lift your hand so that it faces up towards the trees. And you watch as a delicate, pink petal slowly falls from the beautiful flowers and lands right in the middle of the palm of your hand.

You let out a soft smile at the sight of it, feeling your heart warm when the wind pushes it away. You turn your head in the direction it flies off to, watching as it swirls in the wind as if it were dancing to a song. It finally lands right on Wonwoo’s blue hair, who is standing by and watching you with a fond smile on his face.

You grin, running up to your blue haired boyfriend and immediately grasping his hand. He presses a kiss to your temple once the two of you begin walking in Soonyoung, Mingyu and Vernon’s direction.

“I love you.” Wonwoo mutters against your head, and you feel heat rush up to your cheeks when you turn to see the overwhelming amounts of love in his gaze as he stares down at you. You stand up on your tiptoes and quickly steal a kiss from his lips, before pulling away with a soft smile.

“I love you too, Wonwoo.”

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parkers-gal · 4 years ago

Note

I have an idea for another tomxreader story. So in this one Tom, reader, brothers and Harrison just finished a scary movie night, and they all decided to prank Tom by doing to tik tok trend where they hand under the bed and throw stuff and like touch them.

i can just so see this happening😭

｡☆✼★━━ requests are closed ━━★✼☆｡

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Tom yells, scrunching up into a ball and squeezing his eyes shut, gripping your shoulder in fear.

You share a laugh with the boys around you. “C’mon, Tom. This isn’t too bad.”

“Not too bad?!” Tom repeats dramatically. “There’s literally a clown! On screen! In an old abandoned house! That’s the worst kind of horror movie!”

“What could possibly have expected from Stephen King?” Harrison chuckles, eating a handful of popcorn from the bowl in his lap.

“You said he was a good writer! I didn’t think that was equivalent to scary!”

“Oh no, Tom,” you chuckle, “He’s quite the man when it comes to scary stuff.”

“Just watch the ending, Tom,” Harry suggests calmly, sipping the rest of his soda. “It’s almost over, anyways.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he grumbles, sitting straight so he can view the television. The movie ends not twenty minutes later, and while Tom says something about cleaning up in the kitchen, Harry leans over to whisper something to you and Harrison, and Sam.

“You guys wanna pull some pranks?” he grins, and Harrison mirrors his smirks.

“What are you guys on?” Sam chuckles. “You’re going to give Tom a heart attack.”

“Awesome, then!” Harry says, before going on. “C’mon, it’s the perfect opportunity.”

“Oh!” You sit up, “I saw this thing on tiktok that’d be perfect for right now.”

“Really? What was it?”

You hum, “But we’d have to go upstairs right now.”

“Go, go, go!” Harry ushers you out, and you whisper the plan into his ear. “I’ll film it, just go!”

The three of you clamber your ways up the stairs, taking refuge in yours & Tom’s bedroom. You pull Sam under the bed with you, grabbing a number of things on your way down, things you can throw out at Tom. Sam found his glove from his Jeepers Creepers halloween costume , so he put it on his right hand for the occasion. You have to hold back a chuckle when you realize how mischievous you’re being.

Harrison, on the other hand, stays put in the closet. You don’t know how, but somehow he’d gotten a hold of the controls for the lighting in this room — Tom wanted to control the lights with his phone, something about proving to you that he’s not an old man with technology — so he’s got the app opened on his phone, and he’s ready to rattle some things around to make noises. He’s safely tucked away in the corner, though, so Tom won’t be able to see him, especially not if he’s too scared to even look.

“I don’t know why we couldn’t just watch that new Benedict Cumberbatch movie,” you hear Tom’s voice from behind the door, and it’s getting louder which means him and Harry are approaching.

“God, Tom. You’re such a wimp,” Harry’s looking down at your phone, discreetly recording on your tiktok.

“Clowns are not for the weak,” Tom defends. “They are for the severely advanced fearless citizens.”

“And you’re in that category?”

“Yes!” Tom exclaims while grabbing his shirt, which lays in the center of the unmade bed. As he steps closer, you reach out and delicately caress his ankle. Tom shoots back immediately, frightened.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Harry shoots back.

Looking around the room, Tom doesn’t want to make himself look even stupider, so he lets it go. “Nothing, never mind.”

“Whatever you say, mate.”

“Alright, well, g’night,” Harry says, holding back his laughter. You have to bite your lip to do the same.

“Goodnight,” Tom says, back still turned to his brother. It gives Harry the opportunity to prop your phone up against the wall, getting a clear view of everything that’s going on. When the door shuts, Tom turns around, back now to the bed, and you throw a plastic water bottle out, the noise crinkling as it thuds on the ground. Tom gasps in surprise, running away from the bed and leaning against the other wall, the one by the closet.

Realizing where Tom stands, Harrison rattles the closet door, and it shakes and pounds. The noise is so startling that Tom lets out a small “fuck!” and he moves towards the window. Sam faces this way, and as Tom steps closer, slightly letting his guard down, Sam reaches out with his right hand and grabs at Tom’s ankle, securing his tough grip.

Tom looks down only for a split second, to see an abnormally looking hand pulling at his ankle and tugging him under the bed. Harrison plays with the lights, making them flicker and brighten. Tom screams, wholeheartedly and purely out of fear, and he attempts to lose the grip of whatever monster wants him — the monster that happens to be his brother’s hand.

In a haste to run away, Tom hops on one foot before losing his balance and tumbling to the ground. He crawls a bit of the way, and as Sam loses his grip, Tom comes into your view. You’ve acquired a clown mask, from last year’s Halloween party, and you shine a creepy flashlight on yourself.

Tom screams again when he sees what’s under the bed, and he runs for the exit. He moves too fast, though, because he runs right smack into the door, and as Harry comes in from all the commotion, he finds his brother on his back beside the door.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“There’s- there’s-” Tom stands quickly. “There’s a bloody monster under the bed!”

That’s when the laughter rings through the air, and Tom’s eyebrows pull together in confusion. Harry leans on his knees to contain his laughter, and you clutch your stomach while crawling out from under the bed. Harrison emerges from the closet not a second later, and as the final person — Sam — comes out with those costume gloves, it all comes together in Tom’s head.

“Y/N! You guys!” Tom groans. “You guys are so mean!”

“You have to admit, mate,” Harrison says between laughs. “That that was pretty fucking hilarious.”

“You screamed like a little girl!” You hold your stomach again, leaning on your knees just like Harry.

“Oh my god,” Sam giggles. “Did you run into the door?”

Tom rubs his elbow and his forehead, slightly bruised from the collision. “Shut up. You guys scared me!”

“That was kinda the point,” Harry rasps out. You pad over to the wall that your phone is against, and as you pick it up and press the video, the boys gather around to watch it. Immediately, you cower back in laughter, heads shooting back at how hilarious the result is.

“Stoppp!” Tom says from his place, whining. “That was so brutal.”

“That was literally the best thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.” You post the video and click your phone off.

“Just you wait, love,” Tom says “I’ll get you back. I’ll get you back real good.”

want more? my masterlist. taglist tingz :) 🏷️ want to join? fill out this form.

pp + th taglist: @spideyspeaches @mayrapreciado20 @tomhollandlol @supremethunda @sinisterspidey @turtletaylor98 @parkerpeterparker2004 @peterbenjiparker @kelieah @selfcarecap @turtletaylor98 @tomhollyland (-trope) @nellbellzz-blog @tpwkhollandd (-tw) @holl2712 @marlenetough

th franchise: @roseke @wonderfulfluffer @farfromtommy @mamaparker28 (-tw/sf) @pxxerfect (-sf) @seutarose @itssmadelyn @woopwoopwoop222 @spideyssunshine (-tw) @white-wolf1940 @uh-just-ice @butterf1yaurora @hunnybunimdun @mggsluvbug @jetsmorrissey (-sf) @writingrem (-sf/tw) @sunwardsss (-tw) @lowkey-holland @quaksonhehe @nat-zya @bi-lmg @hoodpankow @pxxerfect @itzmiciah @heavenlyholland (-sf)

th taglist: @lmaotshollandd

permanent taglist: @lunalovegoodsgirlfriend @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @yourgoldengirls @waxingmoonwrites @multifamdomfan12 @am3l1a-24 @aayaissaa @avarose2854 @avarose2854 @slutforfics @mamaparker28

a strikeout means i could not tag you! pls message me for support <3

#tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fluff #tom holland crack #tom holland imagine #tom holland drabble #tom holland blurb #tom holland oneshot #blurb #imagine #oneshot #tom fic #tom x you

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robinsdearest · 4 years ago

Text

Quick Enemy Patch Up

Jason Todd x Reader

[Totally and utterly based on this TikTok I saw the other day]

You slump against the brick wall. It’s not as comfortable as you’d hoped it would be, but it’ll have to do for now. One hand attempts to dust off the rest of your costume as the other applies pressure to the ever-quickly bleeding stab wound in your abdomen.

You thought of yourself as a lowly, blue-collar criminal only good for the occasional museum robbery or as a beneficiary gala jewel thief. You always worked solo, had the occasional police run-in, and more often than not, you were met by other Gotham vigilantes trying to catch you. Nothing could surprise you after being in the game for as long as you had been. At the very least, you should have expected a job gone wrong would have ended with a Black Skull goon tying up loose ends.

You close your eyes and sigh thinking about what went wrong. The ache in your bones and the pounding in your head stole the thoughts away- everything was getting blurry at this point. Breathing was getting difficult, and you really wondered if someone would find your cold body in the morning.

A slight thud has your eyes shooting open, and your free hand goes to the blade you were carrying. Even though you’re wincing in pain, you lean forward to watch a figure emerge from the blackness of the alley.

“My, my, what do we have here?” The voice mocks as it makes its way towards you. You slightly relax and drop the knife as the dim light reflects off your company’s helmet.

“Red Hood, I didn’t take you as someone to ask stupid questions.” The two of you had a long history of run-ins. He always seemed to be the one to keep you from obtaining your best items. Most of the time, he’d have you in situations pretty similar to this one. He was your very own public enemy number one.

The man with the hood laughs again; he’s gotten close enough to where he squats just above your sprawled out legs. He takes a gloved finger to lift your chin and examine your face.

“Looks like someone could use some help.” With the pop of the last word, he flicks your chin down. You wish you had more energy to snap back- you didn’t need his help. The snarl you pull does nothing to deter the man. “I don’t plan on knocking someone while they’re down, sweetheart.” He reaches over with one hand to support your upper back and another to lift up your legs. You attempt to struggle against his hold on you at first, but exhaustion soon takes over- you pass out from blood loss before the two of you can exit the alley.

_________________________

The smell of something cooking has you slowly waking up. Consciousness comes to you all at once; glancing around, you realize you’re on a couch in what appears to be an apartment. Your immediate thought is that it looks like it came right out of 1980’s furniture magazine.

Rising up on your elbows, you notice the TV playing a movie you’ve never seen before, a coffee table littered in medical supplies, and an empty wall where you can hear a radio playing behind it. Inch by inch you move the rest of your body until you’re upright. Your entire body seems to be bandaged- there’s a dull ache where your open wound should have been, and you are definitely in clothes that do not belong to you. You get to your feet by holding yourself up on the couch arm. You limp to the wall where you regain a hold to keep yourself standing. Beyond the wall where the music is playing, there’s a dining table with your costume and cowl. Next to it, a dazzling red helmet.

“Damn, I didn’t expect you to wake up that quickly. I was hoping to finish cooking before you woke.” The man’s voice startles you, and flight instincts have you scan the area for your quickest escape route. Spotting a door, you make a run for it. However, the attempt is pathetic, and the fast movement has you face first in the carpet. You cry out in pain as you feel something along your side tear. You hear a string of curses before strong hands are lifting you. “What in the hell was that for? I just patched you up.”

The man places you in a chair at the dining table. He goes back towards the living room and returns with the medical supplies you saw before. He squats next to you and starts to raise your shirt. He tries to fully take it off of you, so you swat his hands away. You’re met with deep blue eyes, and you finally get a good look at the man trying to help you. You let him pull off your shirt while you continue to take in his features: thick black hair, slight freckles across his nose, broad shoulders, and incredibly large hands that seem to work so delicately. A comfortable silence settles between you as he works to fix the stitches you reopened. He finishes and sets the sutures on the table before he speaks.

“You were barely conscious and almost dead when I found you. I hope you realize that, darling.”

“You didn’t have to help me, Hood. I was doing fine by myself.” The man scoffs in response.

“Fine? You almost bled out before I even got you back here.” He gestures to the apartment and looks down to your costume. He taps your forehead. “And besides, now I know what you look like behind the mask. And you can say the same for the man behind the hood.”

He walks back to the kitchen to finish the cooking he had started earlier. You attempt to pull the shirt back over your head, but fail. You forgo the shirt, and only an instance later is the Red Hood walking back to you with plates in hand. He sits next to you, hands you a fork, places the plate in front of you, and begins eating.

“Jason.” It’s simply stated in-between bites. The name seems like it fits well.

“Y/N,” you reply. He hums, glances at you, and finishes off his plate. Once you finish your food, he takes the plates back into the kitchen. After he returns, he picks you up again to carry you back to the couch. Jason cleans your abdomen wound, and then begins working on your other bandages. He takes off several wrappings of gauze and seems to stall his movements as he stares at your exposed back.

“Who did this to you?” For a moment, you hear a touch of concern in Jason’s voice. The thought invites butterflies to your stomach.

“Well, most of these are from you, remember?” In your mind, you whack yourself. What kind of flirting was that?

“Ah, yes. That I did.” His breath hits at the top of your ear- he’s so close, you can feel the warmth radiating off his skin. “But I’m not talking about old scars, beautiful. I’m talking about who almost put my favorite thief into the ground tonight.”

You ignore most of his words. “Oh, I’m your favorite thief? I didn’t think you could continue to scar someone you would label as a favorite night after night.” You didn’t mean that to come off as harsh as it did, but Jason only chuckled. His breath continued to tickle your ear.

“Don’t get too defensive on me now. I just want to make sure I’m the only one in Gotham giving you things like this to remember me by.”

His hands begin to explore your back, landscaping all the muscles and marks he could see. You shiver as Jason traces his finger along a thin, white line right in the center of your back.

“That was from uh- um..” And your voice trails off as his hand continues to roam your body.

Jason chuckles. “You don’t have to remind me, darling. I remember.”

You grin. “That hurt like a bitch. Took me days to get back to the streets.” You turn around so that you are seated facing him. When you finally get situated, there’s a smile plastered on his face that makes your heart flutter and would have made your knees week.

“Oh you think that one hurt?” Jason’s eyes dart from your own to your lips. He begins to reveal a piece of skin under his shirt. “Take a look at this one.”

You slowly raise your fingers to reached out and trace along the jagged scar that you gave to him months ago. A jagged line across his collarbone that was still raised and pink. You puff out air through your nose humorously.

“Jason, what have we been doing to ourselves?” He adjusts his shirt and he shrugs.

“I think it’s called just business.” His lips turn into a smirk as he glances over at your half-naked body. “I’ve never been one to mix work and pleasure.”

“In your dreams, Red Hood,” you respond, rolling your eyes.

“How did you know I dream about you?”

Your face immediately turns red: this guy was too much. His following laugh is whole-body and deep, yet he lets you playfully punch his arm. You can’t help yourself but smile. Your once least favorite vigilante had you in a puddle in his apartment. No masks, no facades, no crime fighting, even if just for a night. Maybe the Red Hood would be your enemy turned ally, or possibly even more.

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

[AN: please please please go back and watch the video linked above. I want to give credit to the one who made the TikTok, but I couldn’t find them on here.]

#jason todd x reader #red hood #jason todd #red hood fanfic #dc fanfic #robinsdearest

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shrinkyclinksfest · 4 years ago

Text

That's a wrap!

Thank you all so much for another successful run of Shrinkyclinks Fest! Altogether the works add up to 150K words of new Shrinkyclinks content and six new artworks! We want to thank all our wonderful writers, artists, promoters, promoters, readers, and supporters. We will see you all next year!

Without further ado, the Masterlist:

Title: Nazi Punks Fuck Off [Shrinkyclinks AU] Creator: bleedxblack Medium (fic, art, podfic, etc.): digital art Rating: G Prompt #: 22 Warnings: N/A Summary: Local punk Steve Rogers goes to see his hardcore vocalist boyfriend, Bucky, perform with his band, Widow. Friend and guitarist Natasha took the first photo of them after the band had finished their set. Steve took the following photo himself while he watched his friends and lover play on stage.

Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33271081

Title: Steve has hot guy problems Creator: HeyBoy Medium (fic, art, podfic, etc.): digital art Rating: T Prompt #: 33 Warnings: N/A Summary: For the ShrinkyClinks Fest prompt: Meet-cute at the gym! Smol Steve is determined to work on his cardio and fitness. He reluctantly goes to the gym, feeling intimidated but ready to spit fire at anyone who so much as looks at him twice. He is going to get a good workout, damnit. Ignore the clunkheads. Ignore the gym rats. Ignore the super hot guy with long hair and stormy eyes who always seems to be using the equipment near Steve. That wasn't so bad! Now we can shower and go home. Wait, hot guy is also in the shower and… he's singing. WAIT hot guy just exited the shower and now he knows that I know he was singing!.

Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33271468

Title: asthma attacks, fire escapes, and chai Creator: beemotionpicture Medium: fic Rating: gen Wordcount: 6,657 Prompt #: 9 Warnings: none Summary: It happens because of his asthma of all things.

As soon as he feels short of breath he starts rooting through his messenger bag for his inhaler. Steve has a moment to think aha!and then fuck,before he’s losing his grip on the thing and it’s skidding across the pavement and into an alleyway.

He freezes when he realizes he’s not alone.

Steve hears a muffled sound coming from behind the dumpster, but that’s not what makes him look; no, it’s the metallic scent in the air which, with a creeping feeling of dread, he hopes isn’t blood. He looks. It’s blood.

And there’s a man sitting right in a puddle of it, leaning heavily against the brick wall and clutching his side with a metal hand.

How Steve finds an injured Bucky, nurses him back to health, and takes down a HYDRA agent while he’s at it. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33272239

Title: Highway Ghost Creator: Neonbat Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 15820 Prompt #: 31 Warnings: Usual WS Bucky warnings Summary: Steve hated long drives, it was too easy to zone out, especially when you’re full of cook-out food and good times. Having someone fall out of nowhere right in front of his car wasn’t exactly something he’d ever consider a possibility. He had enough excitement already from his job as an ER Nurse. Except, where most people would have been laid out on the asphalt, the man dressed in black got up without a scratch and insisted medical care wasn’t needed. The fuck was his life? Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33283738

Title: He "Accidently" Picked A Hot Roommate Creator: rufferto Medium: digital art Rating: G Prompt #: 48 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve needs a roommate. He thinks he will never find one but then he meets Winter Soldier Bucky who needs a place to stay while he recovers. Steve offers him the room immediately and it turns out Bucky is a great roommate. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33279370

Title: special delivery Creator: @glim / glim Medium: fic Rating: Teen + Wordcount: ~6,000 words Prompt #: 30 Warnings: n/a Summary: Written for shrinkyclinksfest, Prompt #30: Steve Rogers has always been prone to sickness, but summer colds are the absolute worst. What he wants is a huge bowl of chicken noodle soup and some ice cream. What he gets is a food delivery guy who’s so built and hot Steve chokes on his tongue. That’s why he keeps ordering long after he’s recovered and how he finally gets Bucky Barnes into his apartment and his bed. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33343828

Title: When the Pool Closes Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Fic Rating: T Wordcount : 1858 Prompt #: 36 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve just wants to enjoy a day out in the sun by himself. That’s not too much to ask. Except it is, apparently. With such fair skin, sunscreen is a must, and there’s no way he can reach his entire back. He’s just going to have to find someone to help him apply it, and if the guy is ripped… Well, it’s not Steve’s fault that he’s got good taste. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33341596

Title: To the Future and the Past Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Fic Rating: T Wordcount : 1465 Prompt #: 40 Warnings: Major character death Summary: Maybe a funeral isn’t the right time to admit to a gay love story, but Bucky doesn’t care. That’s what Steve wanted, and Bucky’s never been able to say no to the love of his life. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33358726

Title: A Shot Across The Bow Creator: Author: Becassine Artist: Call_me_kayyyyy Art Rating: G Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 18382 Prompt #: 52 Warnings: Blood/Injury, Implied/Reference Abuse, Reference Slave Trade Summary: Bucky Barnes is a Pirate Captain, and one accustomed to getting his own way. When fate drops Steve Rogers in his path one lonely evening in Tortuga, his life is forever turned upside down. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33265450/chapters/82597747

Title: Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet Creator: Girl_Back_There Medium: Fic Rating: Mature Wordcount: 6214 Prompt #: 45 Warnings: Some Homophobic Language, Instances of Sexual Harassment against women Summary:Bucky doesn’t know how his mother managed to Jedi mind trick him into dropping off Becca at summer camp this year, but she somehow did it. Despite his grumpiness at the unreasonable hour in which he was wrenched from his nice and cozy bed, Bucky is glad for this time with his little sister. Becca spends their time talking about the activities she got to do last summer that she hopes will be back again this year, all of which was organized by Steve Rogers. After she came home from Camp Marvel last year, all Becca could talk about was Steve Rogers, one of the counselors for her team, The Howlies. Steve Rogers was an amazing artist. Steve Rogers participates in all of the competitions despite his asthma, scoliosis, heart arrhythmia, and various other medical issues. Steve Rogers totally drinks his respect women juice. Bucky would be worried about his sister may be developing a crush on this Steve guy, but after meeting him, Bucky is more preoccupied with the crush he's developing on Steve. So preoccupied in fact, he ends up signing on to be a camp counselor for the summer. Link to work:https://archiveofourown.org/works/33339220

Title: The Way To A Man’s Heart Creator: Author: HaniTrash Artist: Kocuria_visuals Art Rating: T Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 11852 Prompt #: 53 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve Rogers, skinny Brooklynite, is a college student who makes old recipes and posts videos of them on tiktok. When Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier and Avenger, sees one, he's instantly hooked and becomes Steve's biggest fan. What follows next is a story of food, flirting, and a very unlikely pairing. But much like Steve’s unusual recipes, what shouldn’t work often does… Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33312223/chapters/82722664#workskin

Title: Maybe A Muse Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Medium (fic, art, podfic, etc.): fic Rating: M Wordcount: 2871 Prompt #: 28 Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Summary: When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33393928

Title: Be My Breath Creator: Goosenik and clarkestetler Medium: Fic Rating: Teen and Up Wordcount: 44,575 Prompt #: 48 Warnings: N/A Summary: For the Shrinkyclinks Fest 2021 prompt: Steve needs a roommate. He thinks he will never find one but then he meets Winter Soldier Bucky who needs a place to stay while he recovers. Steve offers him the room immediately and it turns out Bucky is a great roommate.

Basically: Bucky moves in with Steve after he escapes from Hydra, and Steve begins the long process of helping Bucky remember how to be human again. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33275848/chapters/82626394

Title: Tap-Tap Into Your Heart Creator: huntress79 Medium: Fic Rating: T Wordcount: 5k Prompt #: 6 Warnings: none, except for one blink-and-you’ll-miss-it mention of animal death Summary: When HYDRA finally fell, the Soldier was lost, in more than one meaning. And for the next several months, he, more or less, drifted from one former safehouse to the other, always avoiding to stay too long in one place. Until he comes to Brooklyn - and finds a new purpose, again in more than one meaning… Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33416524

Title: I'd be selfish but never with you Creator: Lacunalady on Ao3 Medium: Fic Rating: E Wordcount: 20k Prompt #: 32 Warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Prompted with: "Arranged marriage AU. Steve is a prince and Bucky is a newly crowned king of the neighboring country having conquered/overtaken the last ruler. In order to keep the peace between their countries, Steve's father decides for them to wed. Steve is reluctant for several reasons but mainly because he wants to marry for love and the fact that Bucky has a reputation for being exceedingly ruthless in battle (aka the winter solider)" by Bangyababy on Tumblr! Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33424936

Title: Just Peachy Creator: Erosanderis Fic Rating: N/A Wordcount : 1266 Prompt #: 34 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve Rogers was not looking forward to meeting his soulmate. Ever since the day he was born, he had the worst possible words on his forearm. So of course he would meet them at work. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33412060

Title: Knocking Boots with Sugar Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 4095 Prompt #: 29 Warnings: N/A Summary: In between summers at college, Steve Rogers wants a new adventure beyond his lonely life in Brooklyn. He ends up in West Texas working on a dude ranch where Bucky Barnes is a long-time employee. When Bucky offers to buy Steve a drink, they end up drunk on tequila and making out in public. For the rest of the summer, they're inseparable. As the summer draws to a close, Steve realizes he doesn't want to leave. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33499603

#shrinkyclinks fest 2021 #masterpost 2021 #shrinkyclinks #stucky #stucky fic #stucky fanart

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achliegh · 3 years ago

Text

Golden

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Beta: @the-most-slytherin-hufflepuff & @punkkkkboi

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death/suicide, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Chapter 17:

The plane landed, Finn was the first to turn his phone off airplane mode and suddenly it was blowing up, twitter, Instagram, snapchat, tiktok, even Facebook for chrissakes. He was getting messages from family, friends and even the team. He put his phone on silent when he started getting annoyed glances from other passengers.

Logan was next, not as many notifications but still a lot. Leo had a few but none of them had to do with Finn and Logan. Finn was scrolling furiously through his notifications, getting more and more nervous as he kept scrolling. Then he saw the first twitter notification.

Hacked.

His eyes widened and his heart was pounding, Logan was the person in the middle this time, he grips Logan’s arm tight. Logan looks over to him a bit groggy and confused. Finn is in complete panic. Logan raises an eyebrow asking what's wrong. Finn just shakes his head and shoves his phone in his pocket.

They get off the plane and everything is normal, getting their bags and walking towards the closest exit Finn stops walking, causing Noelle to run into the back of him. They all look outside and notice all the media waiting.

What was going on…

“Noelle, Leo can you guys go out a different door and take a taxi to meet us at the apartment? Call Sirius while you’re on the way.”

“Finn what's going on?” Leo is staring outside for a moment before he meets Finn’s eyes.

“Please just do what I ask, I’ll explain more if you don’t hear anything on the way.” Leo and Noelle share a look and then nod, walking towards the exit that is two doors away, Noelle calling a taxi while Leo calls Sirius.

“Finn?” Logan takes his hand, running his thumb over the freckled man’s knuckles. He is looking at the media and they seem to have noticed them, taking pictures through the glass. The flashes put a spot in his eyes when he blinks. Finn has his jaw set in a way that Logan rarely sees, he is angry. Something isn’t right.

“Keep a hand on me, you know how terrible the press can be.” Finn grips his hand tighter as they walk towards the doors with all the press, hoping Noelle and Leo got out safe. The door opens and the mingled words of shouting reporters who Finn knows are just trying to do their job but it's an annoying job.

“LOGAN! Does Finn know you’ve been cheating on him” A female reporter yelled out from the middle of the pack. Logan snaps his head around and is about to answer before Finn drags him forward.

“Finn, do you know the man in the video!?” A male reporter shouted at them and kept asking more and more questions until Finn couldn’t take it anymore he turned around. The shouting, the flashes, the microphones in his face, it was all too much. He was overwhelmed and shutting down.

“Fuck off!” Before turning back around and walking into the first floor of the parking garage, some of the reporters with just pad and pens followed them through the barriers. He ignores them as he unlocks the vehicle. Logan and Finn toss their bags in before they get in themselves.

“Let me see your phone.” Logan is so thankful for the tinted window in this car. Finn hands him his phone and it already has Logan’s face ID so he unlocks the phone and starts looking through everything on Finn’s twitter that was posted. There was everything from Finn’s own nudes to Logan’s. He felt sick to his stomach as he scrolled, then he saw it.

“They posted the video… The video of me and Leo in the mirror. I didn’t know you saved that on your phone, I thought it was just snapchat.”

“They hacked everything of mine, Lo, Baby… I’m so sorry.” Logan hears the crack in Finn’s voice and just places his hand over Finn��s on the console between them. It was a silent drive home.

When Noelle and Leo reached the apartment the press was outside, luckily they couldn't get into the parking garage or the actual building. They make their way inside and see most of the team already waiting by the door.

“What’s going on?” Leo asks Sirius as he unlocks the door and lets everyone in. James turns on the news but nothing is on but the weather right now, Lily and Celeste are there and go to the kitchen with food they already made. Leo was getting more and more confused.

“Finn was hacked, every account of his on social media has posted pictures of him and Logan but there is one video and we know it’s you.” Sirius watches as Leo’s face pales immediately. “No one else knows though, they are trying to call Logan a cheater and Finn a cuck but no one can figure out who you are.”

“What’s the video?” Leo closes the door behind everyone and moves him and Noelle's bags to line the wall so people don’t trip, he’d move them into his room later.

“A video of you and Logan in a mirror, it’s dark and you don’t show either of your faces but people are going wild for it. It was released on twitter first… then everywhere else.” Leo nods and politely excuses himself to the kitchen to help with whatever because that is his safe space.

A half hour later Logan and Finn stumble in the apartment. Finn says nothing as he walks over to Sirius and just starts apologizing for how he has ruined the team's reputation, while Logan takes a slow seat next to Dumo who doesn’t hesitate to pull him into a supportive hug.

“It’s going to be okay.” Dumo mumbles into Logan’s hair rubbing his hand up and down his back as Logan sniffles. “This could have happened to any of us. Hell, it already happened to Remus and Sirius.”

“Not in the same way.” Logan’s voice is muffled in Dumo’s chest and the older man just holds him tighter. “Maman and Papa are going to kill me…” Logan hands his phone to Dumo and it's already unlocked, messages from his parents are on screen. He takes Logan’s phone and holds it up to where he can see it better. Messages just saying horrible things about Logan and Leo for some reason.

“Logan-”

“Shush! Laisse-moi tranquille!” Dumo sighs and closes Logan’s phone, putting it far away from them on the coffee table as he just holds his son.

“Finn, you did nothing wrong! Stop apologizing!” Sirius pulls Finn into a tight hug and Finn tries to pull out of it but Sirius is much stronger. Holding him there while angry tears threaten to fall from Finn’s eyes. Once he melts into Sirius’ hold he starts talking.

“I just ruined my boys' lives…”

“Finn, this wasn’t you.” Finn doesn’t answer, he just slowly pulls away from Sirius when he hears his phone ringing. It’s Alex, he is supposed to go to his wedding this weekend and Finn is thinking he is going to uninvite him.

“I should take this on the balcony.” Sirius gives him a firm pat on the shoulder, resting his hand for a second to give it a squeeze before Finn brushes him off and walks outside. “Alex.” Finn immediately starts crying at the voice of his brother. “Alex- I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to ruin your wedding.”

“What? Finn, I’m calling to make sure you are okay, this has nothing to do with my wedding.” Finn cries even harder, having to support himself on the railing as his tears drip over the edge. “Finn please talk to me.”

“I don’t know what to say, I ruined their lives, Alex! I ruined the people who I love most. How could I do that?” He squats down keeping one hand on the railing and pressing his forehead to the cold metal of the wall of the balcony.

“Finn, Bud, I know you love to blame everything on yourself but I promise you this is not your fault.” Finn lets out a pained noise as his brother speaks.

“Alex, I was the one who saved the pictures! It’s internet 101!” He takes a deep breath as he starts to become exhausted from crying, no more tears were coming but he felt as though his breathing wouldn’t slow down.

“What? You think I don’t have pictures of my fiancé on my phone?” Finn laughs a tiny bit as his breathing starts to go back to normal. “Finn, you need to take down all your accounts before this gets on the news.”

“I tried, I got locked out of them on the way home when Logan started deleting them as I drove us home.”

“Then I guess you need to get in contact with Twitter and whatever else… Then you need to stop feeling sorry for yourself and make up a plan to play the media.” Finn is silent for a moment, thinking about how they have a game this Friday, the day he also leaves for Florida in the middle of the night.

“Play the media… That's probably the smartest thing you’ve ever said.”

“Hey!”

“Love you Alex but I need to talk to Sirius and Remus.” He hangs up the phone and rounds up Logan, Remus and Sirius. Pushing them into Leo’s room. “Okay so… how do we fuck with the media?”

Leo was oddly quiet, Reg noticed and placed a hand on his arm. Smiling a little bit at each other Reg could see just how scared Leo is. He is in his head and it's worrying him. Leo isn’t exactly the best at taking care of his mental health and his stress baking foods he doesn’t even like is definitely a sign.

“Leo, why don’t we go have a smoke?” Leo just shakes his head, Clay is sick right now and Thomas didn’t let him come here because he has been ill since they got back home. “Leo, can we at least sit down?”

“These need to be finished Reg. If you want to go sit then sit.” Reg sighs and decides not to pester him anymore. Going over to sit on the couch. He is brought away from texting Clay to the news loudly playing over the TV.

Leo and everyone else in the kitchen move to behind the couch to look at the screen. He was hoping it wasn’t going to be anything about them and what was posted. He was praying to any God he could think of that it wasn’t them.

His prayers never seem to work.

“Breaking News! Finn O’Hara, winger for the infamous Gryffindor Lions hockey team, has recently had some pictures and a video of him, his boyfriend… and a secret man leak onto the internet. We had reporters at the airport earlier today to see if we could get any statements from the two love birds as they made their way back home. We were trying to get answers but O’Hara and Tremblay seemed to be avoiding answering anything. Here is the footage we got from earlier”

Footage from Finn and Logan walking out of the airport shows up on the screen. Finn looking like thunder, Logan just looking confused. Leo watches Logan snap his head towards the reporter who yelled something at him, he didn’t know what was said because his ears felt like they were full of cotton. Finn leads them further on into the crowd but Finn suddenly turns around and spits a ‘Fuck off’ their way before ducking into the parking garage.

“Tremblay seems to be confused as to what was going on while O’Hara was getting defensive. The question everyone is asking is, who is this mystery man? And will this seemingly perfect relationship fall apart because of him? We have the video that was leaked here and we can only show the top half as the bottom is quite scandalous.”

Then suddenly Leo is on TV, they stick to their word only showing the top half of the video, it was darker than Leo remembers it being. He watches as Logan’s mouth moves but there is no audio… just a caption.

Finn.

The week flies by, Leo is the only person allowed to leave the apartment besides for practice, they had a game tonight against Ravenclaw. They won 2-0. Finn and Logan, of course, were being interviewed. Sat together in their stalls, sweaty and still in all their gear, they were very touchy on camera. Logan had kissed Finn’s cheek a couple of times, Finn’s arm was over Logan and he was watching Logan like he was the most important thing in the room.

“So, everyone wants to know. Who is the man in the video?” A reporter turns her microphone towards Finn who just shrugs and smiles.

“Like you said, he's the man in the video.” This shocks everyone for a minute because the camera flashes again.

“Did you like seeing another man with Logan?”

“I wouldn’t have kept it if I didn’t like it.” Finn flashes his most charming smile.

“Logan, is this a random man or someone you know.”

“I know every inch of them.” He smiles as Finn snickers.

“Are you two in an open relationship?”

“Nope!” They both answer at the same time before sharing a chaste kiss. Logan playfully pushes Finn’s cheek away from him and they start laughing again.

“Are you swingers?” They both start laughing and shaking their heads for the millionth time in this interview.

“Non, our relationship is closed and we aren’t swingers. Sorry you just aren’t our type.” The whole locker room gets a chuckle out of that and Marlene kicks the media out of the room so everyone can change. Logan and Finn get changed and finally feel like an entire house has been lifted off their shoulders. Finn was leaving tonight and Leo was meeting Logan at the Dumias house to watch the kids for the weekend.

It was going well. Hours later after Finn kissed his boys goodbye, Logan at the parking lot at the stadium, and Leo at the apartment after grabbing his bags. Maybe they were more than just a chaste kiss on the lips but it was great.

Leo was on his way over to Logan’s with a little surprise next to him. He waltzed up to the door with a small carrier in his arms. Adele answers the door and smiles at him.

“They already have articles about Logan and Finn posted and they are amazing just wait until you hear- what are you holding?” Leo laughs at her as she lets him in. Not giving anything away he walks into the living room, Adele hot on his heels. He sees Logan on his stomach with Marc sitting on his back playing with a hot wheel car on his shoulder blades. Katie is sitting by his head as he rests his head on his hands as she rambles on about something that Leo didn’t catch.

“Leo’s here! And he has a gift.” Adele announces, all the other kiddo’s get up and scramble over to Leo. Hugging him around his legs. Logan slowly stands, starting to get sore from the game that night, stretching his arms above his head before he spins around to see Leo holding a cardboard carrier that you usually get from pet stores.

“What did you bring me, a pet? I’m not that lonely.” Leo smiles and wraps his arm around Logan after the kids let go of him. The little box started squeaking very quietly, catching the attention of everyone. Leo sees the excited stares he's getting from all the kids and his boyfriend so he decides to open the box.

“Meet Tortilla, I adopted her from a family owned pet store that had a litter recently. She has been handlers since she was a tiny version of herself so she is okay around kids.” He lifts a small chinchilla out of the box. She is small and soft chattering to herself as she takes in her surroundings.

Logan’s face immediately morphs into one of pure amazement and adoration. He slowly reaches towards her. “How did you know?”

“Ma found your middle school Pinterest when she was figuring out what gift to get for the holidays. She bought the cages and food for here and Finn’s place.” He smiles as Logan cuddles her gently to his chest. She seems to have taken to him Immediately, burrowing into his arms.

“I love her, I- Leo I don’t know how to respond.”

“You don’t have too. She is part of the family now, Finn has already met her. She doesn’t like him much.” They both smile at that and the kids are now around Logan looking at Tortilla who is thriving under all the attention. “I’m going to start dinner.” With that Leo takes himself into the kitchen to start cooking. He could hear Logan teaching the kids how to hold her properly and how to play with her safely as Leo cooked. He was cooking up leftovers that Celeste left.

Once they ate Leo went out to the truck to get the cage out to put it in Logan’s room. Setting up her enclosure Adele held Tortilla and Katie and Marc stood around her giving Tortilla little pets every chance they got. They placed her in the enclosure after it was ready for her and let her run around inside for a bit before she went into her little home. Logan corralled everyone to the downstairs living room where they watched a couple of movies together.

Soon enough Katie and Marc had fallen asleep on either side of Leo. Katie was basically in his lap and Marc was trying to squish himself behind Leo’s back. Leo got up once the movie ended and picked up one limp child in each arm. Logan decided to go take Adele to bed while Leo tucked the other two in. Asking if they wanted to share a bed and they said yes. So they stayed in Katie’s room both snuggling together as Leo kisses their foreheads goodnight, flicks on the nightlight that makes shapes on the ceiling and leaves the door open a crack so they don’t feel trapped if they wake up.

They met down on the couch again and sat together, Leo’s arm over the back of the couch with Logan resting his head on his shoulder, both tired but not ready for bed.

“We should call Finn, make sure he is in his hotel room safe.” Leo yawns as he is talking while Logan pulls out his phone and starts a FaceTime call with Finn. He doesn’t answer the first time so they try again, him answering on the first ring.

“You guys interrupted my shower concert! I was jamming out.” Finn is only in a towel still dripping wet, he takes a smaller towel and starts drying his hair while looking at the mirror, his phone set up to lean against it on the counter. Leo and Logan share a look of appreciation at their boy.

“You should drop the towel ginger boy, show us what we are missing.” Leo speaks up smirking when he sees Finn turn red.

“You have kids awake!”

“Non, they are asleep.” Logan adds in as they watch Finn pick up the phone and start walking towards the bed, tossing them so they only see the ceiling. They start booing and Finn laughs as he picks the phone back up now in a pair of Leo’s boxers with fish on them. They have become his favorites.

“I was changing, chill out.” He still has the towel from his hair around his shoulders, he just looks at them for a bit taking in how soft and sweet they look curled up together. “You guys are so fucking cute.” He shares a look with Logan and he knows what’s gonna happen. Leo starts talking about the day as Logan leans up to whisper something in his ear. Finn watched as Leo’s face changed from an innocent smile to a dark blush and a slightly shocked face.

“Bedroom?” Leo nods as Logan winks at the phone and drags the taller man to the bedroom, looking around for a second he grabs a chair and pulls it close to the bed while Leo turns on the light. Finn is excitedly watching his screen as Logan tackles Leo onto the bed.

“Tell me what’s the plannn!” Finn whines over the phone and Logan just looks at him from where he is between Leo’s legs and smirks before diving in for a spicy kiss. Logan shoved his tongue in Leo’s mouth taking control of the kids like he hasn’t ever before. Leo is pliant under him and yanks on his shirt as they make out.

Logan leans back and tugs his shirt over his head trying to toss it over the chair but instead throwing it directly at the phone.

“Hey!” Finn shouts from under the shirt, Leo laughs as Logan leans over to pluck the shirt off him. He blows a kiss at the camera before a shirt hits him in the head covering his eyes.

“Hey!” Leo and Finn both start laughing as Logan tosses the other shirt away from them and stands up on the bed pulling down his pants and shakily taking them off before he lands on his knees and yanks Leo’s sweats down.

“In a rush Lo?” Leo smiles as Logan starts furiously digging through his side table drawer for what Leo was guessing was lube. Tossing random papers and a small book on the floor in the process.

“Kinda, I’ve been wanting to fuck you for months!” Leo smiles as Logan finds the small bottle of lube and kneels between his legs. “This okay?”

“Only if We can start with me riding you.” Logan basically moans at the thought. And pours some lube on his fingers.

“Want to watch while I finger Leo? Finn?”

“Is that even a question that needs an answer?” Logan grabs the phone with his clean hand and turns the camera around so that Finn can watch. Leo has taken it upon himself to grab his own knees and pull them towards his chest, giving Logan more room. Finn and Logan both have the wind knocked out of them at the sight.

Logan slowly presses his finger into Leo and is a little surprised when Leo asks him to push it all the way in. Logan complies and Leo moans flushing dark on his chest and inner thighs. Logan starts to pull out and push in and as he does Leo keeps asking for more.

“Baby be Patient.”

“I’m not good at being patient.” Leo’s face is to the side and his eyes are closed S rushing his brow every once in a while when Logan grazes his prostate. He looks beautiful.

Logan eventually adds another finger and Leo starts rocking back on his hand.

“Look at you~” Finn says over the phone, he’s palming himself through his boxers, he doesn’t want to touch until they get to the main event no matter how bad he wants to.

Leo smiles a little, showing off his dimples. Logan doesn’t think he needs to be prepped much more but he is loving watching Leo rock back on his fingers.

“Lo, I’m ready.” Leo starts to sit up as Logan pulls his fingers out Leo kisses him and flips them over so Leo is straddling Logan. He grabs Logan’s phone from his hand and sets it up on top of the headboard that is secured into the wall instead of the bed. “Can you see?”

“Better than I have in my whole life.” Finn smiles looking red and relaxed. Leo watches as Logan lubes himself up. Wiping his hand on the blanket before he rests his hands on Leo’s thighs, tracing his thumb over Matilda’s face as he watches Leo sink down on him. Both gasping, Leo doesn't hesitate to start moving. Logan’s light grasp on Leo's thighs turns into a hard grip within a few seconds. Leo brings himself up and lets gravity take him back down punching sounds out of him as he goes.

“Leo! Leo! I want to change position!” Logan was begging Leo who had his head tipped back, one hand in his hair the other slowly stroking his cock. He looks down at Logan and nods letting the shorter man take over. Leo pulls off and is positioned on his hands and knees. Logan slips back in him and starts fucking him nice and slow until neither of them can take it anymore. He speeds up both of them moaning quieter than usual so they don’t wake up anyone in the house. Logan is getting close so he reaches around and starts jerking Leo off fast with no real rhythm, his own thrusts getting sloppy.

His orgasm sneaks up on him and he isn’t able to give Leo a warning as he cums into him, fucking Leo through his orgasm he plasters himself across Leo’s back kissing his sweaty shoulder blades as he continues to jerk Leo until he feels as warm wet feeling on his hand. Leo must have warmed him but his ears aren’t working. He pulls out of Leo and they both sit up in time to see Finn cumming so hard it hits his chest.

“That was amazing boys, I wish I was there in person.” They both sleepily nod and share a short kiss before taking the phone and heading to Logan ensuite bathroom which is small but gets the job done. They shower with Finn propped in the corner where the water doesn’t hit, just cleaning each other off and hugging under the spray.

They fall into bed and drift off to sleep with Finn who forgot to plug in his phone. It dies some time during the night, making him sleep in a bit longer than he meant too.

But he wasn’t bothered, because he spent the night with his boys.

His boys that he loves.

They really need to tell Leo they love him… when he gets home.

#leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #james potter #thomas walker #Clayton Bruss #o'knutzy #o’knutzy #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #clayton bruss #remus lupin #coops

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tofuwhale · 4 years ago

Text

The Genshin Impact Boys as a Kpop group Headcanons [Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Zhongli]

Me and Tofu started thinking of these after seeing this tiktok: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZSsftVnW/

Enjoy!! These were so much fun to make lol

- 🐋

Kpop group name: T3YVAT

Their roles in the boy band

Kaeya

VISUAL, 100%, but is also the rapper of the group, 2nd oldest member

Everyone’s blown away and gets flustered from his suave and flirty mannerisms

Does a lot of modelling on the side just for fun & fanservice

Diluc

THE VOCALIST, vocals for daysss, 2nd youngest member

He has such a sweet and charming voice, it’s shy at the same time and sounds like dripping honey

Could sing baby lullabies

Zhongli

THE LEADER, kind of cold in a weird way, oldest member

no one really knows why he’s the leader since (??) he seems kind of lazy at first (but actually works really hard behind the scenes, writes the groups’ songs)

Childe

GOLDEN MAKNAE for sure, kinda a spoiled brat and is good at stuff without even trying, youngest member

Really good at dance, would almost be the dancer except for the fact he’s good at everything

Brags a lot about the things he can do, kinda gets on the other members’ nerves sometimes

Does aegyo and the members have to hold themselves back from choking him to death

Xiao

He’s a soloist, experiments with a lot of genres like soft ballads, rap, and pop

Collaborates with T3YVAT in a couple songs

What instrument they would play

Kaeya

Massive drummer boy vibes, has done the drums in the background track of a couple of their songs but no one knows about it

Diluc

The recorder. Jk1!!!1

Honestly he wouldn’t rely much on instruments, his voice alone is enough for him

(It’s also because he’s broken almost every instrument he’s touched)

Zhongli

He’s a classical type of boy so he’d most likely play piano

Has been playing it since he was a kid, a prodigy but decided to form a kpop group instead (who knows why)

Makes grown adults cry with the way he can play piano

Them fingers tho 👀

Childe

He can play a little bit of guitar, but not that much

He’s still learning but the group’s schedule makes it hard for him to

When he has the free time though, he goes live while learning guitar

Xiao

Xiao plays like every instrument, being a soloist he’s really talented and makes all of his music of course

Music is his passion!!

What they’re like during a fansign event

Kaeya

Ofc flirty but man has to tone it down, maybe caresses your cheek though if you’re lucky

He’d be really sweet honestly speaking, he’d probably ask if you ate or if you’re enjoying the fanmeet

Ask him anything and he’ll be honest,, maybe too honest tho LOL

Diluc

He would be so polite and nice, would thank you honestly for coming to the fansign

Flattered by your compliments, gives you a cute little smile at the end that you’ll think about for weeks

Although Diluc doesn’t really like socializing all that much he makes sure it’s clear that he appreciates his fans!!

Zhongli

He would be very much reserved

He as well would ask stuff like how you’re finding the fanmeet

Omg if you have any concerns or anything he’d 100% would listen.

Good listener 100/10 perhaps gives his own advice if needed

He’d deny you for accessories but trust me once you leave he’d look at them before wearing them thinking no one’s watching

Fansites definitely took videos or photos of this moment. YOU AIN’T SLICK

Childe

SOFTEST BABY I WILL CRY.

He’d probably be the most ecstatic compared to the others

If it’s your turn to talk to him he’d immediately grab your hand and wave it around while saying things like “Thank you so much for coming!” “Thanks for supporting us, it means a lot!”

Gets the most gifts and appreciates all of them, has like 50 cat and bunny ear headbands on and refuses to take them off

What they’re like when they go live, and How often they go live

Kaeya

Flirty. Pretty obvious sTILL. He’d wink many times and just say pick up lines

He mainly just wants to have fun and talk with the fans

Gets cockblocked by Childe overhearing his pick up lines and Childe gags loud enough for the live to hear

Kaeya exits the frame saying he’ll be back and all you hear is Childe screaming

Diluc

Went live once accidentally, never again

Spent 5 minutes trying to figure out how to turn off the live

Zhongli

Zhongli rarely goes live, but when he does it’s to show the fans a new song he’s been writing or to get inspiration

Plays the piano while live, has all the fans crying from how beautiful it is

Childe

Goes live the most often, for really dumb stuff but everyone joins anyways

For example, he’d go live to ask for directions to a fried chicken place and immediately end the live

Or he’d go live just to show him bothering Diluc and trying to wake him up from a nap and after, Diluc nearly chases Childe down to kill him

LOVES to interrupt the others’ lives, mainly Kaeya and Zhongli

Ever seen that one video of VIXX’s Hyuk getting left behind in a gas station? Yeah that’s Childe.

How often they post selcas

Kaeya

He posts the most out of everyone

Sexy azz selfies 😩

His captions are pick up lines or could be interactive like he’d ask a question for the fans to answer

Diluc

Rarely posts them, but when he does he poses like a middle-aged white dad taking a selfie

Boring but hilarious captions like “Took a shower.”

Zhongli

Never has posted a selca, refuses to and their manager can’t do anything about it

Because of this, there’s an inside joke in the fandom that Zhongli isn’t even a part of the group and he actually doesn’t exist

Zhongli stans stay strong!!!1!

Childe

Posts selcas often for fanservice, they’re all cutesy with animal filters like bunny or cat ears

Will sometimes post a selfie with the other members without their permission (like sneaking in a blurry selfie with Diluc)

Who’s most likely to take off their shirt during a concert

Kaeya, he’s allergic to shirts

Childe

Diluc/Zhongli, the thing is it wasnt them. childe and kaeya prolly lifted their shirts up LOL

Who’s most likely to accidentally make a fan cry

Diluc

Who’s most likely to hook up with one of their fans

KAEYA, when an interviewer asks him this question he just laughs and looks at the ground while smirking, and then looks at the camera and says “I would never”

Zhongli but no one would find out or expect him to, the only way anyone would know is if he’s the one who tells everyone

Diluc/Childe, they aren’t into that stuff

Who’s most likely to go live while drunk

Kaeya for sure, he’d start a live with his hair untied and messy, half empty bottle of wine next to him and his shirt unbuttoned all sexy and he’d be like ‘Sorry for my appearance haha’, and he’d be extraaa flirty

Who’s most likely to accidentally reveal the groups’ location/address

Diluc, probably accidentally posts a google map that shows the directions to the group’s house/apartment

Childe

Kaeya

Zhongli

Who’s fancam is most likely to go viral on twitter

Zhongli, but only because his manager told him to ‘put more effort in’ so he did, and now the Zhongli stans went crazy and made his name go trending

Who gets shipped

Kaeya and Diluc (But they aren’t brothers in this AU LOL) instead, their beef is from an unfinished chess match that everyone in the fandom knows about

Childe and Zhongli, could be because of their dynamic since Childe is loud and Zhongli is quiet and also because it was revealed that Childe often wants to room with Zhongli (much to his dismay, Childe is actually roomates with Kaeya)

#genshin impact #genshinimpact #fanfic #genshin kaeya #genshin diluc #genshin zhongli #genshin childe #kaeya #diluc #zhongli #childe #tartaglia #headcanons #kpop

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raitrolling · 4 years ago

Text

Slipping Through Dreamlands

[Easy Reading Version on Toyhou.se]

You drift off into unconsciousness, and drift into the lands of a dreaming mind…

You find yourself in a dingy underground room, surrounded by masses of unidentifiable faces. The crowd cheers and yells in excitement, their eyes peeled on the cage of the centre of the room. The floodlights white and hot, the campy entrance music threatens to burst your eardrums, an announcer calls the next challenger onto the stage. An oliveblood collects the last of the bets, you pull something out of your pockets and place it in the jar. You push past the crowd to make your way to the front, noting the vast majority wearing bright red checkered scarves tied somewhere on their person. The air becomes freezing the closer you get to the ring, frost creeping on the chain-link cage that separates the fighters from the crowd. You recognise the troll on stage; bruised, battered, and bleeding, but still standing. His eyes widen when he sees his next challenger, a tall and meek-looking blueblood with curly hair and a prominent underbite. You don’t know who that man is, but you can tell he’s not supposed to be here. He’s scared - they’re both scared - and the one you recognise screams that he can’t do it. You must fight, the announcer jeers, This is your punishment. The crowd’s yelling intensifies to unintelligibility, the shrieks and chants more like that of a wild animal. The fighter on the stage hesitates, he questions why? Why him? He doesn’t deserve to die! But he makes the decision. He clenches his fists, ice spreading across the floor and starts to creep up the horrified trolls’ legs… You turn away and head towards the exit before you hear the distinct crack of an ice sculpture being shattered.

The next night, your co-worker shoots you a glare when you pass him in the hallway. You pay him no mind.

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You watch hundreds, or possibly thousands of crows circle the blood red sky. You get a gut feeling their calls are the names of the deceased. The pier creaks with every step, the grey waves crash with an intensity that threatens to split the supports in half. You ask the troll at the end of the pier what the deal is with all the crows. He laughs, shaking his head. Crows? Oh, goodness, no. There’s no crows in the sky. Only the last reminders of the dead. The messengers of my sins. The poor souls I could not save. You glance up at the sky. They look like crows to you. The troll continues to laugh, outstretching his arms to the sky. The pier creaks, and the old wood underneath him collapses. You watch the crows descend on the body like vultures to carrion. There is nothing left in the ocean but shards of cracked wood and seafoam.

You spy a fortune teller while browsing the market stalls. You decide to stop by to hear of your future.

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You arrive at a party, wild and bustling. Everyone who’s anyone is here, but you know none of the guests. You take a glass of champagne off a waiter’s platter, leaving the ballroom floor for a moment of respite. This dress doesn’t suit you, much too frilly and over-decorated, but you fit right in with the crowd. You wander through the mansion, ascending staircases and entering every room with an unlocked door. The building sprawls out endlessly, a labyrinth of decadence and far, far too much wealth. You know where you need to go, the room is just beyond… The pool? Yes, there’s always been a pool on the third floor. You need to wade through the shallows to access the next door. You leave your shoes behind, they’re worth too much to get damaged by the chlorine. The water starts to reach your calves, your knees, your thighs, then finally your waist before you reach the end of the room. Opening the door causes the water to spill out onto the floor. Another hallway covered in paintings, and then you reach the master bedroom. The owner of the mansion stands on the balcony, and greets you before you can snoop around the single room that has any logical sense to it’s construction. You shrug when he asks if you’re enjoying the party. Hm. Another failure. Perhaps I’m losing my touch. You have no frame of reference for what he’s referring to. You suggest that next time he should really embrace the nightmare mansion vibes he’s got going on. It’s like a House of Leaves in here. He seems satisfied with the feedback.

A couple weeks later, you receive an invitation to a literary-themed party. You decline to attend.

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You shiver as you make your way down the apartment hallway. The utilities must have been turned off again. It’s so cold… You’re so hungry. Where are the building’s inhabitants? The reports told you these apartments are occupied. You kick down a door, looking for any signs of life. The fridge and pantry are both empty. As are the ones in every other apartment. Your eyes adjust to the darkness and allow you to notice the bloodstains on the floor. Chalk outlines display where a body should be. Your conscious mind is relieved by the lack of entrails left behind. You zip up your coat and wrap your arms around yourself, but the cold is chilling you to the bone. You need to get out of here. Where is the staircase? The elevator opens up to a black void, the walls are made of styrofoam. You’ve lost the keys to the apartment. The hallway circles back around until you’re in front of the apartment door. You can feel warmth emanating from the other side, hear the quiet hum of multiple computers. The droning electrical noises drown out the bony footsteps of the animalistic creature wandering the halls. You twist the doorknob, but the apartment is locked. Its occupant tells you he’s busy, as the mournful howls of a starving wolf echo through the apartment complex. You’re so hungry, but the ghoulish beast is even hungrier. You don’t notice the monster behind you until its jaws crush your body with a single mighty snap.

HR receives a complaint from a Legislacerator’s Office in another town about you snooping around in other people’s business. You don’t understand why.

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You’re dressed in what appears to be a school uniform, but the only schoolfeeding institutions you know that require them are ones from animated television shows. It’s exam time, and you haven’t studied for the Chemistry exam. You ask the orangeblood next to you if she’ll share your notes, and she agrees. She’s very chatty, it seems she knows a lot about the upcoming exams. She’s nervous about the Rescue Mission exam, because she needs to get into the hero course no matter what. Her quirk isn’t very flashy, but she can be a hero with it! You wonder to yourself what kind of school this is if it has superhero courses. You tell her she’ll be fine, you didn’t study at all because you know it’s going to be easy. She blushes, and thanks you. Another troll passes by the hallway window, their most prominent features being a large scar on their face and their hair dyed half-red and half-white. The orangeblood immediately gets out of her desk to chase after him, saying something about needing to do the exam with him. You think you recognise that person - No, character from a video you watched once. You get secondhand embarrassment from remaining in this dream for too long, and climb out the window to leave before the schoolfeeding instructor can give you detention.

You receive a friend request from someone with the username ‘unassumingObserver’ on your TikTok account, despite you only using that account to comment on videos. You leave it on read.

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You doze off in your office, exhausted from your lack of a proper sleep this past week. You drift off into unconsciousness, and return to the visceral nightmares within your dreaming mind...

#drabble #glasya elliss #feat some other trolls as special guests #man i miss when tumblr had the option to insert horizontal lines #anyways have this thing i cranked out in like 2hrs in a random fit of inspiration

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ellay-gee · 4 years ago

Text

Tales of Tiktok : Red Filter

The eve of the full moon always bred restlessness in Derek Hale, so it is of no surprise that he found himself aimlessly driving through the streets of Beacon Hills at 2 AM on a Sunday.

What did come as a surprise, however, was the lone light shining in the window of one Stiles Stilinski. Normally when Derek passed through—completely not creepily of course, he was checking to make sure his boyfriend was safe, not stalking him or anything—all was dark and quiet. And Stiles had told him two hours ago that he was going to bed.

Unsettled, Derek dropped his car into neutral to coast by the house, listening in. There was music; some older song that he recognized from when he was small and his mom used to play records in the den on Sunday nights.

Put your head on my shoulder….

But instead of playing through, the song repeated after just a few seconds like a skipping record.

Curious—and frankly also concerned—he pulled into the driveway, noting the sheriff’s patrol car was gone. He snuck up the eaves on the side of the house, padding across the roof to peek into the window.

Put your head on my shoulder….

Inside, Stiles—clad only in white pajama pants that sported the Bat Signal all over them—was ambling by his open bedroom door. He shot (what he thought was) a seductive look over to where his phone sat on his desk. He paused in front of the opening and struck a pose, throwing his hands up to grip the trim while arching his back and lolling his head over slowly to look at the camera again. After a second, he whooped in triumph and danced over to stop the video and reset to begin recording once more.

He hurried back over to the door, shucked off his pants and shut off the light to his room, so only his doorway was illuminated by the glow from the hall.

Put your head on my shoulder….

Derek immediately flushed, looking across the yard back out toward the street. It wasn’t right for him to be looking at Stiles when Stiles was unaware he was looking, even if they were dating…ish.

Derek glanced back, attempting to call out to the other man, but when he saw that Stiles had managed to press his back into the frame and climb his feet up the other side in some sort of poor imitation of “the thinker”, it struck Derek as so adorable and hilarious that he burst out laughing. This startled the whiskey-eyed youth into flailing so violently he went crashing onto the floor.

“Dammit, Derek, what are you even doing here? Taking creeper lessons from Peter? Jesus H. Christ.”

Derek stifled some more snickering as he climbed in through the window. “I was just out for a drive and saw your light was on.” He helped Stiles to his feet, giving him a peck to the lips as he pulled him in for a hug-plus-butt-squeeze. “What are you doing?”

“I was making a tiktok.” Stiles muttered into Derek’s neck, heartbeat rising with embarrassment.

“A tick tock? Is that …you know what, I’m not even going to pretend to know what that is.”

Stiles pulled back, face folding in over-exaggerated incredulity. “God, I can hear you pronouncing the C’s.”

“…I also don’t know what that means.”

“Just…c’mon, you’re going to help me now that you ruined a perfectly good take. And then you’re going to cuddle me. And also maybe give me a beejer.”

“Fair enough. Ok, so explain the C’s to me. How do I not pronounce them?”

“You’re hopeless.”

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

It’s a few weeks later and Lydia is at the loft dropping off some books when she pins Derek with a mischievous smile. “You and Stiles are very popular with the girls, gays and theys.”

Playing into all the completely untrue things the pack accuses him of, Derek’s only response is to dramatically raise one eyebrow.

Lydia only smiles wider. “Let’s see, I think you’re up to something like 600k likes.”

“…ok, I’ll bite. What are you talking about?”

The redhead whips out her phone, thumbing through it for a moment before handing it over. He presses play on the video and…

Put your head on my shoulder….

Stiles walks through the frame in his Batman pajama pants, pausing in the doorframe and on cue, he strikes his pose and the screen goes red casting him in stark relief. He does a few sexy stances and as the clip comes close to an end, he tries out the “thinker”ish pose again and Derek’s silhouette swings in and scoops him up into his arms, where Stiles does promptly lean his head on his shoulder as they walk into the room and back out of frame.

“Can you…can you send this to me? Is this the tick tock?”

Lydia takes her phone back, scrunching up her face with obvious disdain. “Stiles is right, I can hear you pronounce the C’s.”

“I still don’t get what that means.”

Lydia shrugs and after a second his own phone pings with the incoming video attachment. She turns to flounce away, throwing a quick “I expect to get those tomes back in no less than two weeks. I’m not running a library, you know.” over her shoulder as she exits with nary a further flirt or flutter.

Derek watches the video twenty five more times, delighting in the transition of Stiles going from cute-adorable-happy-go-luckyness in his pajama pants to holy-shit-how-can-I-keep-my-hands-off-him in the silhouette against the red filter background.

Derek: date tonight?

Stiles: I thought we had a bunch of research

Derek: Isaac can do that

Stiles: I mean, yes, Zackypoo can read, but can he really RESEARCH?

Derek: I will take you for curly fries

Derek: then for a romantic walk in the preserve

Derek: then fuck you brainless under the stars

Derek: THEN we can research

Stiles: …

Stiles: Wtf Derek

Derek: are you saying you don’t want to?

Stiles: Oh no I definitely want to, just what the fuck has gotten into you?

Derek: I saw your tick tock

Stiles: JFC it’s tiktok you relic

Derek: that makes no sense

Stiles: You make no sense

Derek: you’re being childish. I’ll pick you up at seven

Stiles: Yes, Zaddy

Derek: … do I even want to know?

Stiles: Probably not

Derek: why do I put up with you?

Stiles: Mind blowing orgasms and phenomenal research abilities

Stiles: I’m basically like the BEST sexcretary ever

Stiles: I think I have some glasses around here somewhere…

Derek à you’re killing me.

Stiles: (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)

based on this tiktok

#teen wolf #sterek #tales of tiktok #fluff and other niceties #a lil naughty but not too dirty #i think #im not really sure about the guidelines anymore #tho im sure tumblr will let me know :/

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thelioncourts · 5 years ago

Text

title: the mannequin gallery fandom: captive prince pairing: damen/laurent rating: (eventually) mature words: 5428 for chapter two (2/?); 10116 all together

story summary: If things would have gone the way they were supposed to, Damen and Laurent would have never met. But things didn’t go the way they were supposed to, not at all, and their meeting ended up being the equivalent of skydiving with a malfunctioning parachute. Damen tried not to complain. After all, he was now living his dream; he was travelling with his best friend without having to make sure their “I"s were dotted and their "T"s crossed. And, sure, Laurent was difficult to work with, to work for, but he was also great to look at and they made it work well as long as they were anywhere but in Paris. But when Laurent’s past begins to cause present-day problems, Damen finds out those difficulties Laurent constantly displays were a bit more warranted than he could have ever imagined. And Laurent? Laurent finds out the truth – and finds out how to smile.

“You can practically smell the croissants already,” Damen said as they adjusted their carry-ons over their shoulders and entered terminal 2D of the Charles de Gaulle Airport.

The flight from Berlin to Paris had been two hours long, just long enough for Damen to feel the slightest ache in his legs, and the stretch of walking them to the baggage claim felt refreshing. While Damen talked and chattered, Nik was quiet next to him. His eyes were taking in the bright red of the carpet, the arched glass ceiling, and the hundreds of people surrounding them, some so close they all kept bumping shoulders. None of them lost their stride. Damen wondered if the red of the carpet reminded Nik of the pictures he had been showing Damen on the plane, pictures of past Etoile fashion shows. Red seemed to be one of their favorite colors.

Despite his silence about all this during their stopover in Berlin, Nik had clearly been doing his research in preparation for Paris. Once they had settled into their seats on the plane and the pilot had announced they could unfasten their seatbelts, Nik had pulled out his laptop and said with an edge of excitement, “Do you want to see some of my favorite photos from Etoile’s past shows?”

It turns out, there was a whole lot more to fashion than Damen had ever given any attention to. His head told him ‘Duh, Damen, of course there’s a lot to fashion,’ but it was as though the complete confirmation of that hadn’t hit him until he saw the pictures. Nik seemed to have come to the same realization just days earlier. It had been the main reason for his endless list of saved photos, some cropped and zoomed in to give attention to the embroidered sleeves, the silk waves of scarves, and the jackets all strewn with jewels that glittered differently in angles of light.

“I’m not used to having to pay attention to clothes,” Nik had said before closing the laptop and stuffing it back in its bag. “You barely own a shirt.”

Now, the closer they got to the baggage claim, the looser Damen’s muscles felt and the more that a new excitement settled in instead. It had been a long time since they had gone somewhere unknown to them. He voiced as much.

[Continue on AO3]

“I’m excited about it too,” Nik agreed. His eyes were taking in different things now, scanning the multitude of signs as they wandered and wandered down a seemingly-endless airport with no baggage claim in sight. “Though, to be honest, I don’t know how we’ve never been to Paris.”

“We’ve barely been to France while we’ve travelled,” Damen pointed out. “We’ve only ever been to Nice and I’m pretty sure we went there because we had been in western Italy all the week before.”

“Why haven’t we been here before now?” Nik asked. Without even a break in step, he turned and started another direction with one finger pointing at a welcome and needed ‘Baggage Claim →’ sign above a different area to their right.

Damen didn’t break his step either while he said, “Not sure. I think France has always been not far enough away from home and too close all at once. We couldn’t just take a long weekend here like we could with places close to Greece but it also didn’t seem worth it to plan a long trip here when we could plan a long trip over to the United States to go hiking by the Grand Canyon or to fly down to Australia and hold koalas, you know?”

There were too many people waiting at the baggage claim already, but this was familiar territory after years of travel. Patiently, Damen and Nik waited for their too many bags. Damen’s hands were in his pockets and he was rocking on his heels while listing off a few things he wanted to do while they were here.

“Surprisingly,” he started, “I haven’t planned all that much.”

“Really?” Nik asked, one eyebrow raised skeptically.

“Really. I figured it’d probably be best to wait until you find out your schedule. Can’t be making the boss-man angry,” Damen said. Nik rolled his eyes.

Right when Nik was about to come back with a retort, Damen felt a finger poke at his shoulder and turned around to a group of teens, each one with hearts in their eyes.

It wasn’t that uncommon for Damen to get recognized in public settings anymore. Hitting two million followers on Instagram would do that for a person. Luckily for all those that recognized him, he was an easy-going guy, hence him posing with the kids for the video they were filming on their phones. It was a quick thing; the five of them stood around Damen, his height dwarfing them by comparison, and they all – Damen included – smiled wide, all their pearly whites on display while they waved at the camera and the girl holding the phone moved her thumb up and down on the screen, zooming the camera in and out. After another minutes of giggles from the teens, they disappeared, no doubt to immediately go edit the footage, and Damen rejoined Nik to wait for sight of their bags.

“Oh, is the king done mingling with the commoners at last?” Nik mocked.

“Man, I think I’m getting too old for this social media thing,” Damen said, laughing a little. “They’re making a TikTok, or whatever. I thought that was only people dancing? Am I missing something?”

“You know we’ve never been good at keeping up with the trends,” Nik said. “And for guys who rely on social media for their way of living, it’s not the smartest thing we’ve done. Or not done.”

Their bags finally rolled out from behind the curtain of the carousel and Damen stepped forward to heft each bag over toward Nik. They both had two bags on the carousel. Nik had one for his clothes and whatnot while the other held an array of camera equipment. Damen’s, meanwhile, were filled with clothes, products from advertisers, and half of one suitcase was full of workout gear and tubs of preworkout and protein that Damen couldn’t go without. Luckily, a few years ago, they had invested in nice luggage sets that stacked together like puzzle pieces in order to make moving them easier. They also had USB ports in them so they could keep their phones charged at all times.

It was another maze to get to the exit. They got lost once, Damen got stopped by two boys who were also filming a TikTok, and Nik bought an overpriced water for their drive into town all before they finally found the main doors. The doors were thronged with people, with loved ones waiting for family and business moguls waiting for their called cars, and Damen and Nik were talking over the cacophony, so it was a miracle Damen saw what he saw.

“Nik?” Damen asked, pointing over to where a bunch of men in suits were standing, eyes scanning the crowds. In that crowd stood a guy with a sign that read Etoile in fancy script and had Nik’s name underneath.

The man was inconspicuous in appearance, his suit nice but not standout-in-the-crowd-nice. His hair was cropped and a standard shade of brown, he was short and a bit stocky, and the sunglasses on his face only drew attention to his unsmiling mouth. He looked completely average.

Nik turned to Damen and said, “They never said they were sending a car.”

They both approached the man, Nik the slightest bit more hesitant than Damen, and shouldered their way through the crowd until they could stand in front of him. Behind the sunglasses, they could see his eyes jump from Nik to Damen then back to Damen before he asked in accented English, “Are you Nik?”

“I am,” Nik said after a beat.

“My name is Jord. Etoile has sent for me to escort you to our head office before then taking you to your hotel. I have been informed that you may be tired from your journey and may wish to go directly to your hotel instead. That can be done as well.”

“I’m going to Etoile already?” Nik asked.

“The owner likes to make connections with his possible hires as soon as possible,” Jord said, moving to fold the sign up. Damen stopped him with a hand out and the man eyed him cautiously still behind dark glasses.

“Can I keep that?”

The man kept a cautious eye on Damen even as he handed the sign to him and Damen, feeling Nik’s gaze, said, “We have to document this, Nik.”

“Well, we’ve only just come from Berlin, so it wasn’t a long journey. I’d be glad to go right over,” Nik said in response to Jord, bringing the conversation back around. “Is that okay with you, Damen?”

“Absolutely.”

“Wonderful,” Jord said, sounding like it was anything but that. “Follow me, please.”

The car was just outside the main doors, surrounded by dark taxi cars, a few buses, and several drivers from phone apps. The car, however, wasn’t so much a car. It was a sleek black Rolls Royce instead, the true standout in a crowd like this. Damen raised both eyebrows appreciatively at it before sliding into the seat through the open back passenger door. Nik followed, a quieter kind of awe on his face, and Jord closed the door behind them before they heard and felt the luggage being loaded into the trunk.

“This is crazy, Nik,” Damen said. The interior of the car was all a soft black leather and there was plenty of room for the both of them to stretch their legs out, something that was no small feat for two men several inches over six feet tall.

“They sent a car,” Nik said. His right hand couldn’t stop touching the seat underneath him.

“And not some shitty car. They sent the nicest car we’ve ever sat in that wasn’t at an Italian car show,” Damen said.

Jord was getting in the driver’s seat now, sunglasses still firmly in place, and he adjusted the rearview mirror before asking, “Is there anything I can get the two of you before we leave?”

“I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion,” Nik said after a beat. The fact seemed to have just dawned on him, perhaps when he took in how his black joggers looked next to the car’s interior, and Damen was in no better shape with a pair of slide-on shoes and a baggy neon orange sweatshirt.

“It won’t be a problem,” Jord said and he started the car, the engine purring as it came to life. “As long as you know what you’re doing with a camera, it won’t matter what you look or dress like.”

The drive from the Charles de Gaulle Airport to the heart of Paris was a hair over thirty minutes. It was just long enough for Damen and Nik to sit on the edge of the too-nice seats in the car and take in the sights. At first, it started like most drives near or in a big city: surrounded by a bunch of cars and monotonous buildings. But the closer they got, the more that ‘real’ feeling started to sink in. When they set sight on the first Parisian landmark, a statue that was too far away to read the plaque, Damen smacked Nik with the back of his hand and said, “Welcome to your new home for the next month.”

Sights started to get more and more recognizable. When they turned onto Rue de Rivoli, the Seine came into view. It was wider than it looked in pictures and it was impossible to decide if it was worth it to spend more time looking at the blue of the water or the beautiful French architecture all around them.

“We definitely have to plan something there,” Nik said, a sort of awe in his voice as he pointed to the Louvre. The pyramid was just visible enough to see the sunlight bounce from its glass.

“You’ll have plenty of opportunity,” Jord said. The car turned left down Rue de l’Amiral de Coligny. “Etoile’s building is just next to the museum, right outside the Tuileries Garden.”

“Wait, we’re almost there?”

Jord only hummed, the sound just loud enough to reach Damen and Nik’s ears, and then they were on Quai Franςois Mitterand and the Seine was practically at their fingertips. They were both leaning forward in their seats again, taking in the boats touring the river, the people sitting on the river’s edge, and the buildings across the river all framed by the sun. They felt the car ease to a stop.

The Tuileries Gardens were bright green. The flowers weren’t yet in bloom, the weather was too cold for that, but it was still beautiful in its contrast against the uniform color of all the surrounding Parisian buildings. But more eye catching than the gardens was the Etoile headquarters directly to the car’s right. The building went with everything else in Paris, its color a neutral cream, its design recognizably Haussmanian. It stood out though with its added ornamentation, the building busy even if lacking in colors. And right above the door was a sign in script writing, the letters enormous and undeniable: Etoile.

“Well,” Damen started, and he pulled his eyes away from the building to look at Nik expectantly.

“Well,” Nik repeated.

Jord had already gotten out and rounded the car to open the door before Nik even thought about unclenching his fist still holding onto his carry on. With a deep breath, Nik got out and smoothed down his shirt.

“You’re going to be fine in there, Nik,” Damen said reassuringly. He was still sitting in the car, one arm over the seat where Nik had just been, and he was flashing his biggest smile. “Can’t wait to hear about it when you get out.”

“Actually,” Jord interrupted whilst still holding the door wide open, “it’s been requested that you join.”

“Me?”

“Potential hires are looked through thoroughly for both professional and personal purposes,” Jord explained. “As you are in most of the photographs that were sent in for review, it was decided that you would be an important person to meet as well. Of course, if you’re opposed, you can wait in the lobby.”

“What do you think, Nik? This is your thing.”

“I’d like you there,” Nik said. “If you’ve been asked for personally, I don’t have any reason not to have you there.”

“And I’m your best friend in the whole world so you want me there for support,” Damen said, filling in the obvious gaps in Nik’s reasoning.

Jord led the way inside.

Though the outside was the same cream color as the other buildings around, probably due to a city restriction, the inside was like entering an entirely different universe. The floors were marble, a real marble that made everything from voices to footsteps echo, and right at the center, just in front of the desk where two beautiful secretaries sat on their phones whilst typing at a maddening pace on their computers, was a gold inlay, its design immaculate swirls and crossed lines. It was a labyrinth of busyness and it wasn’t calmed down or contrasted by an unbusy surrounding. No, instead the walls – which were white, yes, but – were brimming, overflowing, with solid gold decoration that covered every inch. Each arcaded window had a foot of gold surrounding its edges, the designs cherubs and flowers and muses like the palaces of old. There were a dozen gold gilded statues around the room that matched the gold gilded paneling taking up most of the walls’ space. None of it, however, compared to the chandelier hanging from the center, the piece looking like the one out of The Phantom of the Opera.

Damen and Nik shared a look that said everything. Jord was walking forward without hesitation and they followed as close behind as they could, trying not to get too distracted by their surroundings. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of walking, they reached the elevators which also, to no surprise now, were decorated all in gold.

“Take the elevator to the top floor. Someone will greet you and escort you to the owner’s office,” Jord said. He went to turn, his sunglasses reflecting all the gold in the room back in Damen and Nik’s face, when Nik asked, “What about our bags?”

“I will be taking your bags to your hotel,” Jord said. “And yes, your hotel has been arranged and paid for already. Once you are done, I will be here to pick you up and bring you there.”

Damen and Nik shared another look before Damen said, “Thank you very much, Jord. You’ve been a great help to us.”

Jord seemed hesitant to do anything for a moment and even more hesitant to say anything, so after an awkward pause he nodded curtly and turned the way they had come.

The elevator had a mirrored ceiling inside and it glittered the gold inlay of the floor back up. Nik hit the button that was above all the others, the one to take them to the top floor, and then Damen and Nik both sighed in unison.

“Are you feeling claustrophobic?” Damen asked. “I’m feeling claustrophobic.”

“I knew they used a lot of designs on their clothing,” Nik started, “but I didn’t think that would transfer to the building as well.”

“You ready for this?”

“Not much I could do right now if I wasn’t,” Nik said.

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“I’ll be fine.”

They reached the top floor soon enough and this floor wasn’t much different from the main one. In other words, it was busy and overwhelming. There was a desk directly in front of the elevator doors, a smaller desk than the one on the main floor, but it sat empty. The mirrored panelling of the desk showed just how much Damen and Nik’s sweatpants went against everything Etoile stood for. To the right was a narrow hallway and to the left was another and, for a minute, Damen and Nik looked back and forth between the two, looking for a sign. It felt like the airport all over again.

It was just when they had decided to go to the right that a child came around the corner.

‘Child’ was the best word for him for he didn’t look a day over twelve, even if he was dressed like a little adult. He had a mess of artfully wavy brown hair and a stunning pair of blue eyes that matched the sapphires around the necklace on his throat. There was a shimmer to his eyelids, a golden glitter that went well with the actual gold glitter covering the jacket so big he appeared to be swimming in it. He was a beautiful child and he would have been more beautiful if his face didn’t have such a distasteful expression on it.

The child had stopped when he saw Damen and Nik and once they had taken him in and he them, the child scoffed and said in a voice clearer than a bell, “Les bêtes envahissent la ville, je vois,” before continuing to walk in a way that said this was definitely not worth his time.

Damen couldn’t help but laugh, the sound drawing both Nik and the child’s attention to him. “Les bêtes sont là pour voir le propriétaire de l'Etoile. Savez-vous où nous pourrions le trouver?”

The child’s face grew pale, if only for just a moment, before he recomposed himself. “This way,” he said with agitation, not pausing to ensure they were following him before he went down the left hallway. At the end of the hallway was a huge door, one that screamed of importance.

Damen and Nik expected the child to knock on the grand door that was clearly the entrance to the main office, but the child went in without a care.

“You have visitors,” the child said.

They couldn’t see the man, but they could see the top of his head. He was in a tall chair, large enough to be a throne, and the back of it was facing them as he typed away at the computer. If he had heard the child, he didn’t pay him any mind, but the child didn’t seem to be bothered. Instead, he stepped up to the desk, plucked a red lollipop from a gold gilded bowl, and left without another word or a spared glance in Damen and Nik’s direction.

“Assieds-toi.” The man’s voice was deep, a rumble in the delicacy of the room, and Nik turned to Damen for guidance. Damen, silently, pointed at the two chairs in front of the desk and they both sat down, listening to the clicking of the keys on the keyboard and the tapping of Nik’s toe on the ground.

Damen decided to give all his attention to the ticking clock on the wall. It was both to keep the time and to also try to figure out just how a clock could have so many things going on with it: an opal face, gold numbers, jewel encrusted hands, and Damen didn’t even know where to begin with the outside of it. Still, it was how he knew exactly three minutes and twelve seconds could feel like an eternity. Luckily, that was when the man turned around in his seat and smiled at them openly.

He didn’t look like what Damen thought a fashion designer and modeling agency owner would look like but, then again, Damen supposed he had never given much thought to what a fashion designer and modeling agency owner would look like in the first place.

The man was large; he had a broad chest and shoulders to match and Damen guessed that if he were to stand, he would be close to Damen’s own height. His hair was dark and neat and his beard full, if sprinkled with just enough gray to make him look dignified. His suit was dark and made him look regal, someone who would draw the eye and demand respect.

When he stood, it confirmed what Damen had thought about the man’s height, but it was hard to give that much mind when his smile went up to his blue eyes. “Bonjour bonjour. Bienvenue à Paris.” He must have seen something on Damen and Nik’s faces, especially Nik’s face, because he quickly came back with, “L'anglais serait-il un meilleur terrain d'entente pour nous? J'ai peur de ne pas parler grec.”

“English would be great, thank you,” Damen said, smiling at the smallest expression of relief on Nik’s face.

“Of course,” the man said agreeably and then he leaned forward, hand out. “And you must be our talented photographer, Nik.” The two of them shook hands.

“I am. Nik, that is. Thank you for having me. Us. It’s an honor just to be here.”

“We here at Etoile are honored to have you.” The man turned to Damen. “And you must be Damen.”

“Yes, sir,” Damen said, shaking the man’s hand. His grip was strong, his fingers rough. “Paris has been wonderful to us already and we’ve only been here an hour.”

Everything was all polite smiles as they each sat back down and adjusted into the chairs. The man had his fingers clasped together on the deeply rich colored desk and his eyes fell to Nik. “Do you prefer to go by Nik or is there something else you’d like to be called?”

“Nik is fine. It’s less of a mouthful than Nikandros.”

“Indeed, it is.” The man laughed just a bit. “So, Nik, I have to say that all of us here at Etoile, myself especially, were incredibly impressed with your portfolio.”

“Thank you,” Nik said genuinely. Damen could already see Nik’s shoulders dropping their tension, even if just a little.

“We normally receive applications from fashion photographers, people who live in the business of finding the perfect shots to display clothing made of every kind of fabric, clothing cut into every kind of style. It isn’t often we look over action shots of people surfing,” he said, motioning over to Damen, “or pictures of the stars over a desert. It was a nice change of pace. This brings me to two questions I have for you, Nik. The first is simply to sate my own curiosity: what drove you to want to photograph Paris Fashion Week? The second question, if you wouldn’t mind, is the question of how you came into the opportunity to photograph all around the world? It’s astonishing, especially for a photographer so young.”

“Well,” Nik said after a deep breath, “to answer your first question, I can say that fashion shows were never a thought, not until I started to meet other photographers as we travelled over the years. There was a photographer, from France actually, that we befriended while in Norway a few years back and last year he was given the opportunity to shoot for Silversio and he said he learned so much. I’ve been expanding my photography more and more as the years have gone on and I thought that this would be another great way to expand my art.”

“That’s quite a drive you have.”

“I owe a lot of it to Damen,” Nik continued, moving onto the second question. “When we were children, we made a pact to spend our gap year travelling the world together. We wanted to climb mountains and see every ocean. The older we got, the more I wanted to skip gap year all together and go straight into working for my family. But Damen convinced me of the worth held in our planned gap year and I realized one year wouldn’t cause me any harm and I would have hated myself for not giving it a chance. But our one year got ahead of us in terms of our social media. We started all of our accounts as a way to document the year. We never guessed it would turn into what it did and what it has.”

“I think congratulations are very deserved for all that you’ve accomplished. I’m assuming this means you’re a self-taught photographer as well?”

“Yes.”

The man hummed, the sound not unpleasant, just thoughtful, and after a pause as though to collect his thoughts, he turned his attention to Damen. “And I believe a congratulations should be given to you as well. Nik here has quite a talent with a camera, but from what I have seen, your charisma is remarkable. It explains much of your success, I would think.”

“Damen could rally himself an army if he wanted to,” Nik said.

“Charisma is everything in this world,” the man said. “You need it to survive.”

Damen smiled the smile he gave in pictures. The man smiled back and clasped his hands together again.

“I don’t want to keep you two any longer than necessary, I’m sure you would like to rest, and I have a few more meetings to attend before my day is over. The reason I asked for you to come meet me as soon as you arrived was to explain how the first part of this is going to go.” He plucked a folder from a small and neat pile on his desk and handed it over to Nik. Even the folders here looked expensive, Etoile’s fancy script all over the front. “In two days’ time we will begin our first photoshoot. I’ve learned over the years of building and perfecting Etoile that the best shows were shot by photographers who had a relationship with the models. This photoshoot will give you the opportunity to begin building those relationships. The clothing line you will be shooting is our new “Gold Label” line. It’s much different than anything we’ll be premiering at fashion week.” Inside the folder was an itinerary and an array of photographs of the most important pieces in this specific line of clothing. “The photoshoot is scheduled for three days. This is to ensure that each of the photographers have plenty of time to shoot with the group and to work with the individual models. There will be five photographers there, but only three of you will be going to fashion week.” He turned to Nik and smiled that same open smile. “Nothing like a little friendly competition.”

“And that’s all we’ll be doing before the actual show?”

“Yes. I will then be giving you the rest of the week to put together your shots from the photoshoot in order to present them to me. From there, a decision will be made on which photographers will be staying with us. Then you’ll have a week before the show to further prepare for the big event. Are there any questions about that?”

“I don’t believe so, no.”

“Well then, I believe we are settled here.” He stood up from his desk promptly, a physical end to the quick meeting, and Damen and Nik stood to follow him to the door. “Inside the folder are phone numbers for Jord whom you’ve already met and a few of my other men. If you need anything, do not hesitate to call them during your time here in Paris.”

“Thank you,” Nik said, shaking his hand once more, “for the opportunity and your generosity.”

“Yes, thank you,” Damen repeated.

“Of course, gentlemen. I’m looking forward to what this week will bring.”

They passed the child again as they were leaving. The lollipop was down to almost nothing on the stick and he watched them near predatorily, a finger twirling the gem attached to the zipper of his jacket.

“Bonne soirée,” Damen said with a wave.

The child flipped them off, his painted nail glittering.

Once they were downstairs, it was a quick journey to the hotel they had been put up in. The hotel was located in an old palace just across the river. Sadly, they were one building behind a river front view, but neither could care, not when the view itself was another bustling Parisian apartment complex that radiated life and sophistication, its inhabitants clearly upper class.

They were on the fifth floor and their room was spacious and decorated much more simplistically than anything Etoile could dream up. It was appreciated after the blinding display of wealth and ornamentation. The cream-colored walls matched the exterior of all the iconic Haussman buildings and the arched window and doorways gave it the elegance so expected from something in this part of Paris. The gaudiest thing were the curtains and Damen and Nik were quick to pull those back and secure them. After all, they blocked the best part of the room, the terrace overlooking the street.

They spent the next two hours taking turns showering the plane off of them, unpacking all their things, ordering room service, and chatting away about the things they couldn’t say earlier.

“What was with the kid?” Nik asked as he folded another shirt and put it in a drawer.

“I don’t know,” Damen said. “Maybe he’s one of the models.”

“He’s a little young to be a model,” Nik said.

“He was dressed like one.”

“He looked twelve.”

“Well the kid doesn’t matter. What matters is that the meeting went really well. He seems to like you,” Damen said.

“I’m not sure,” Nik said.

Damen rolled his eyes. “Don’t start with that.”

“I didn’t start anything.”

“What also matters,” Damen interrupted, “is that I could very much get used to this.”

He was standing at the open entrance of the terrace. The terrace itself was just large enough to fit a small table and two chairs, perfect for early morning coffee or relaxing at night. At the other building, the one just across, were other terraces full of people doing just that as the sun slowly began to fall over the city. On the streets were people all bundled as the nighttime temperatures began to settle in. Best of all, on the terrace table was a bottle of wine, a nice deep red, with Etoile’s script signature and a note from the owner himself bidding them, yet again, a welcome to Paris.

“I bet you could,” Nik said. He was already grabbing the available bottle opener. “I’m the one doing all the work.”

#captive prince #laurent of vere #damen of akielos #captive prince fanfic #mannequin gallery 'verse #the mannequin gallery #my writing

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theswiftarmy · 5 years ago

Text

#17 – We Go Live In Five Hours!

Scene 17: The Microsoft Theater at L.A. Live - Downtown Los Angeles - Daytime, Interior – Twelve O’clock Noon exact on Sunday November Twenty-Fourth, Twenty-Nineteen.

FINAL DRESS REHERSAL FOR THE AMERICAN MUSIC AWARDS

TAYLOR SWIFT, POINT OF VIEW: Watches as the show director for the American Music Awards, Jeffery, tells the show’s stars sitting in audience seats that they must run the entire show from the top as a full dress rehearsal, again.

CHANGE CAMERA SHOT, we ZOOM in on Taylor Swift, slowly, panning from a full shot of the stage.

WRITER: Oh yeah, this is good stuff. I really should start writing this as a screenplay from here on out, so that way after Taylor Swift finds it and reads it, and then sends it over to her friends that made that “Cats” movie—and I am in turn contacted by Taylor herself along with a big time studio in Hollywood to get this masterpiece made into a movie, the screenplay will already be ready! And THEN I can be all like, hey Steven Spielberg, you want in on this? And he’ll be all like… “Cut it, print it, ship it, sell it, baby!” Or whatever snazzy jazzy lingo it is they use out in Hollywood—

EDITOR: Uh, I hate to break it to you, but this is never going to be a movie. Can we talk about this? First off, you’re never going to get all these people to agree to be IN a movie together in real life, what with the bad blood and all. Plus, you do know that’s just not how it works… The process of getting a movie made is so much more complicated than posting awkwardly written fan fiction online for your idol to stumble upon it and fawn all over your wordplay—

WRITER: Just trample on my dreams why don’t you?

EDITOR: I’m just telling it like it is! Dude, I’m not trying to let you down… But that’s not at all how Hollywood works! Plus, I doubt Taylor is ever going to even see this story, she’s REALLY busy these days and you tend to ramble on and on in some sections, you should definitely be a little more concise instead of meandering around making your point, but keep dreaming… Keep telling yourself: “Oh, look, Taylor Swift is going to find some random Tumblr novel about her and sit there reading the ENTIRE thing post by post completely captivated by your every word…” Because THAT’s realistic! Let me let you in on a little secret though, I don’t know how I feel about Taylor, I mean, have you read some of the stuff online about her? The gossip against her… Maybe you’re better off not capturing her attention… She could bad news my friend.

WRITER: Why don’t you go edit something?

EDITOR: Oh, yeah, because that’s a come back. Why don’t you go right something?

WRITER: AH-HA! See… And you call yourself an editor… don’t you mean WRITE something!?

EDITOR: No. I mean what I said, ‘right’ something—right a ship that’s sinking fast—right something that’s going wrong…. Like this story, that’s going nowhere fast.

PRODUCER: Ohhhhhh… Sick burn! Sick. Burn.

WRITER: Just leave me alone and stop crushing my dreams. I know it’s never going to be a movie, I know Taylor is never going to read it—you don’t think I know that? I know that… Just let me at least dream while I write this scene and stop being so mean.

EDITOR: Look at you, Mr. Poetic. Alright… I’m gonna go play some Xbox, call me when you’re done. Come on producer, I’ll let you pick the game. We’ll leave the writer to his “dreams”.

EDITOR AND PRODUCER EXIT STAGE LEFT, THEY LAUGH AS THEY SLAM THE DOOR SHUT, WRITER STARES OUT WINDOW WATCHING SNOW FALL, SAPPY MUSIC PLAYS. ZOOM IN ON WRITER FOR SHORT MONOLOGUE.

WRITER: If only I could make the Editor understand. I just don’t see things the way he does. I don’t see how a girl that makes such wonderful things, could be bad. Look at this story! Isn’t it neat? Wouldn’t you think it’s cool and complete? About a girl, a girl who has… Everything. A trove, of treasures untold! How many wonders can her song catalogue hold… Looking at her, well you’d think, sure, she’s got everything! She’s got catchy songs a plenty! She’s got singles and albums galore. You want music videos? SHE’S GOT TWENTY! But who cares, no big deal, she wants more. I want to be where Taylor’s people are… I want to sing and be there dancing! Hanging out with all her, what do you call them? Oh, Swifties. Being a fan of hers is cool and all but I want to do more than just jumping and dancing. I want the cameras rolling along with a catchy musical… What’s that word again? Oh yeah, beat… Up where they talk, up where it’s fun, up where they sing all day in the sun… Swiftie and free… Wish I could be, part of that world. What would I give, if I could make movies with Taylor… What would I pay, to spend a day part of Taylor Swift’s band … Bet you she’s grand and understands and doesn’t reprimand someone’s daughters. Bright young women, Swiftie women, taking a stand! And I’m ready to join with her, ready to go! Ask her a question, and get some answers… What’s her favorite cover song and how long did it take her to, what’s the word… Learn? When’s it my turn, to make a movie about love, a lover for sure, she is she’s a lover in love… As everyone can see… Sigh. Wish I could be, part of that world… Maybe they’re right. Maybe it’s silly to dream. But what if Taylor never dared to follow her own dreams! If she never picked up a guitar or played a single note on the piano. What if she never tried at all, how many Swifties would be Swiftieless! How many lives has she positively impacted with her music, with her kind words, with her retweets and reblogs on Tumblr, with her fan photo hearts, her genuine heart… and all her creative works of art…

WRITER SIGHS. Writer continues tay-ping into the night on the computer keyboard…

“Everyone! We’re going to do it again. Because, right now? I can’t. I just can’t… I can’t even handle it. I can’t even look at it, I can’t even think about it, I can’t even say I can’t about it…”

“Calm down Jeff. Okay? Just breathe. We’re gonna get it right.”

“Carol… It’s just… Everything is mess. We go live at eight! EIGHT! They’re acting like it’s still tech week! WE GO LIVE AT EIGHT!!! And that’s New York time, which means we go live at FIVE here in L.A.”

“It’s okay. You’re stressing yourself too much.” Carol King stood on the stage with the director of the American Music Awards, Jeffery, attempting to reassure him. A stage manager also stood nearby for backup should Carol’s efforts go in vain.

“Those two crack me up.” Selena sat in the audience seat to the left of Taylor.

“Well, it does need to be perfect, Selena.” Taylor reminded her.

“Speak for yourselves, I’m already perfect, did you see me during Tik Tok… NAILED IT. And my new song… Oh HELL to the yeah.” Kesha kicked her feet up and put them on an empty seat just to the left of Selena.

“Watch it!” Selena said turning her head slightly. “I just had my hair done!”

Kesha wiggled her barefoot toes close to Selena Gomez, just inches from the new hair-doo, egging her on, Selena made a grossed out face shifting over in her seat closer to Taylor. Kesha sat up. “WAIT! You guys, I just had an idea!!! I should make a TikTok video, during Tik Tok!” Kesha impulsively yelled her idea immediately up to the stage, “JEFFY! Can I record a TikTok while I perform Tik Tok during my set?!”

“NO KESHA!” He shouted back from the stage.

“Way to ruin my dreams.” She said sulking back into her seat. “It’s my creative expression, I should be able to do whatever I want.” Kesha made a pouty face. She went back to trying to pretend to touch Selena’s hair with her toes.

“Taylor, I know it needs to be perfect, but he’s stressing out so much. KESHA! Stop, that’s soo gross.” She turned around and stuck her tongue out at Kesha. Kesha laughed then let up and moved her feet away. “Ugh… Poor guy. He practically runs this whole thing.” Selena sighed. “I mean yes, there’s a ton of other people behind the scenes, but it all falls on his shoulders.”

“EVERYONE!!! WE GO LIVE IN…” He looked at his watch, “FIVE hours. It’s NOON! The show starts at EIGHT Eastern Standard Time, which means we pull the curtain at FIVE O’CLOCK PACIFIC TIME!”

“We know Jeffery. Just chill out man. Jeffy you’re gonna get your pants in a Jeffy jiffy twisty.” Ozzy yelled in his Ozzy Osbourne voice from his seat as he turned and high fived Post Malone.

“Right on.” Post laughed, and then sipped his beer. “Just take it as it comes and carry on.” He toasted to the stage with his bottle of beer and then clinked glasses with Ozzy.

“Post! It’s only noon. How are you already drinking?” Lizzo said looking over two seats. “Also, did they open the bar yet or what? This girl gotta get her drink on too.”

“Nah, B-Y-O-B, they won’t serve until after the red carpet… You want one?” He opened a cooler with a six-pack of beer.

“Ummm, I’ll wait.”

“Suit yourself.” He reached in and cracked open two more handing one to Ozzy.

“Ozzy! It’s only noon!” Sharon said slapping Ozzy on the hand.

“Sharon… Chill out… It’s non-alcoholic.”

“Oh, well in that case, give me one.”

“Sure thing Sharon…” Post Malone smiled and cracked open another beer handing it to Sharon Osbourne. He pulled out a bag of Trader Joe’s chips and passed the bag around for everyone to take a handful. Life is funny like that, one day you’re eating chips on your own solo, the whole bag to yourself—maybe with some dip, or salsa, or guacamole even, and maybe not—then suddenly the next thing you know, it’s a Post Malone party, you’re sharing the bag of chips together with Sharon and Ozzy Osbourne, and Lizzo.

Taylor turned back from Taylurking the conversation happening several seats away from her between Post Malone, Lizzo, Ozzy and Sharon Osbourne. Just wait until you try my Fizzy Lifting Lover drinks she thought to herself.

“At least Scooter won’t be here.” Sara said to Taylor in a low voice, leaning over in her seat.

“I know. But, I kind of wanted to roast him in front of everyone, watch him squirm a little. That would have been sooooo amazing!”

“Taylor, no. We talked about this. You need to wait until the time is right. We need to…” She quieted down and looked around. “Well you know.”

“Sara, I know. Okay?” Taylor whispered back.

“Hey Taaaaaay…” Shawn Mendes walked by Taylor and smiled over his shoulder.

Taylor awkwardly covered her mouth, hiding a smile waiting for it to subside, when it finally did, she waved back.

“What was that?” Sara asked noticing Taylor blushing ever so slightly.

“What was what?”

“Umm, between you and Shawn.” Sara pointed over at Shawn now standing beside Camila Cabello.

“Nothing. What?”

“Taylor—Is there something between the two of you? Because if there is, as your attorney, I NEED TO KNOW! YOU NEED TO TELL ME EVERYTHING!” Sara raised her voice—she was almost shouting. Billie Eilish looked up from her phone raising an eyebrow in Taylor and Sara’s direction, then turned her attention back to her phone.

“Whoa, Sara…” Taylor lowered her head sinking into her seat, “You’re making scene.”

“Sorry, I… I don’t know what came over me.” Sara’s voice returned to her normal calm and collected tone.

“It’s okay… It’s… It’s alright.” Taylor pushed her self slightly away from Sara in the seat; she’d never seen Sara act like that before. Almost like Sara was a different person for just a moment. Taylor reached down to check on the masters case and make sure it was still seated next to her, unable to make contact she looked down and noticed Sara had pulled it closer—Taylor pulled it back.

“I just need to know things, okay?” Sara said to Taylor, making direct eye contact. Taylor looked back up at Sara. “To… protect you. That’s all. And to advise you properly…. I care about you okay? I’m not just your lawyer, I’m a loyal Swiftie, and I’m your biggest fan.”

Taylor’s eyes drifted away from Sara and back to Shawn again. “Riiiiight. Okay Sara, yeah, sounds good.” She said distracted, ogling Shawn Mendes. She felt that same dang crooked smile forming on her face. What was that? Why could she not help but smile every time she looked at him, SHE almost felt like a different person—She needed a distraction. Taylor pulled out her phone and texted Joe.

Hey you… Just wanted to say I was thinking of you! Inset 50 heart emojis.

She clicked send.

There was a sudden commotion from one of the entranceways to the theater, “Billy Porter is in the house!” Someone yelled.

“Oh my God Billy is here! Sara, hold my phone.” Taylor got up from her seat and ran over to hug him.

Sara looked at the phone in her hand; the screen was unlocked… She began to tap through a few of Taylor’s apps, her social media accounts folder named ‘My Loves’, which included the Tumblr app, Twitter, Instagram, and various other ways to connect with Taylor’s fan base, her Swifties—The pulse of the Swifties’ synchronized heartbeats in one tiny little device, she felt a wave of power rush over her, one Tumblr post, one Tweet, an Instagram photo, all of it connected to millions of Swifties, around the world, an army ready to act on Taylor’s behalf at moment’s notice.

As Taylor returned to her seat, Sara placed the phone back on her lap pretending to have never looked at it, she handed the phone back to Taylor with a reassuring smile.

“HELLO!!! ARE WE GOING TO DO A SHOW OR NOT? You still have to go home, freshen up, red carpet, photos, AND WE HAVE NOT EVEN STARTED THE DRESS REHERSAL… Am I the only one who cares about this?”

“Jeff, they care, okay? It’s just that we’ve run through it 73 times. The show is already good.”

“Good is no good, you should know that CAROL!”

Carol rolled her eyes.

“Okay everyone, everyone, let’s take it from top! Places… PLACES!!!!” He paused. “Oh, Taylor, I have a note here that you had a change request to add a backing track during your performance of Lover?”

“Yes, that’s right.” She yelled back to the stage gleefully.

“Okay, well, make sure you get that track to the sound team as soon as we finish rehearsal!”

“Oh, I will.” Taylor’s eyes flashed Teen Wolf RED for the second time today.

@taylorswift

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biofunmy · 5 years ago

Text

The 2010s Have Broken Our Sense Of Time

This is one of those places you go for Instagram. The Manhattan Bridge looms, immediate and substantial, over a cobblestone street, framed on either side by a pair of old brick buildings; if you’re standing in the right spot, you can see the Empire State Building through one of the bridge’s uprights. Imagine a woman, young and ambivalent, staring into the middle distance, white sneakers aglow in the dawn, bridge overhead. This area of Brooklyn, once home to abandoned factories and warehouses, now hosts an annual festival for $3,000 German cameras.

A couple weeks ago in New Mexico, a few thousand people in suburban Albuquerque were waiting for the president, the one show we’re always watching.

The time between when you enter a Trump rally and when he finally concludes can be long. You might come in from a bright desert evening, as the crowd did that night, and exit into a pitch-black thunderstorm. In between, you wait for Trump, indoors, without windows, listening to the same 20 songs selected by Trump, from Tina Turner to Andrew Lloyd Webber — that are, like anything else selected by Trump, booming into your brain.

Eventually, to kill time, people at the Santa Ana Star Center did the wave. Seven thousand people rose and fell in red hats and T-shirts — to Luciano Pavarotti’s performance of “Nessun dorma” from a Puccini opera. People raised “Latinos for Trump” signs. A group of teens let out long Woooooooos. Pavarotti wailed in Italian. The wave continued right into the playlist’s next track, “Hey Jude.”

“Is there any place more fun and exciting,” the president asked later that night, “than a Trump rally?”

Trump inspires weird scenes like this from the lovers and haters alike. Pull up YouTube now and you can watch him perform a poem in different cities and in different years, sometimes in reading glasses and sometimes without, sometimes dedicated with cruelty and spite to Syrian refugees and sometimes to the US–Mexico border. Despite the provenance of “The Snake” (an R&B song from 1968), the lyrics have that Classic Tragedy vibe that matches Trump’s acid edge id. “‘Oh, shut up, silly woman,’ said the reptile with a grin,” goes the poem. “You knew damn well I was a snake before you let me in.”

He’s the man for a moment of algorithmic timelines.

But the algorithm didn’t used to rule all. Most of the basic experiences on our phones didn’t even exist 10 years ago. In 2010, Instagram launched and the messaging app WhatsApp came to both Android and iOS; in 2011, Snapchat opened for business and Spotify came to the US; in 2013, the workplace chat system Slack launched. When Pew first began collecting data on the subject in 2011, 35% of US adults owned smartphones; in 2019, 81% do. Here at the decade’s end, there are 1 billion global Instagram users.

The early part of the decade was about building the systems. And though Twitter preceded this decade, the platform came to political and cultural prominence in the 2010s. Initially, information flowed in chronological order, unfiltered, strictly concise, and mostly from strangers, which distinguished the platform from the more insular and curated Facebook. During the 2012 election, Barack Obama’s presidential campaign formalized a kind of faux-intimate voice — personal messages, initialed by the candidate — that retained a corporate distance. But that kind of fakery couldn’t hold; as the decade progressed and platforms like Twitter shifted from novel experiences into assumed foundations for business, media, and culture, the nature of what we put into the platforms also changed.

This isn’t contained to Twitter: The internet has finally and firmly moved from being an obscure gathering for nerds to the foundation for most communication. Linguist Gretchen McCulloch traces that history in Because Internet, her recent book that is particularly interested in the different waves of users — people who started using email at work in the ’90s, for instance, or millennials who grew up chatting on instant messaging apps — and how those platforms or users have affected language. These generational differences can manifest in small but familiar ways; McCulloch explores why people who are long accustomed to chat and text use line breaks for timing and emphasis, and intuit information left unsaid in an ellipsis. (Hey are you around…) She contends that a younger generation of users over the last decade, who’ve never known an internet without Facebook or YouTube, have turned to a phone experience that emphasizes control over context: disappearing messages, live video, using second and third accounts for specialization and privacy.

As the 2010s went on, the platforms adopted the live and the disappearing and attempted to reach you with what you care about most — to make the experience less disorienting by focusing on what garners the most attention. During the 2016 election, Instagram added the ephemeral stories and shifted to an algorithmic timeline. “If your favorite musician shares a video from last night’s concert, it will be waiting for you when you wake up, no matter how many accounts you follow or what time zone you live in,” reads the corporate unveiling, a cheerful promise of permanent detachment from the clock in favor of what you (are thought to) care about.

Twitter had built its business on the ordered timeline, but it too introduced algorithmic weighting that same spring. “Someday soon, the tweets you see will be a little more interesting, and the tweets you miss won’t be as important,” a former Twitter employee wrote at the time. “And guess what: You won’t even notice. You won’t! You think you will, but you won’t.”

The new Twitter feed transformed how a user perceived something going viral; while a viral tweet used to get a few thousand retweets, it would now get tens of thousands — or even hundreds of thousands — of retweets. Powered by the new algorithmic weighting, the platform’s new quote-tweet function further turned Twitter into an ever-escalating, ever-nesting series of warring comments, dunks, and owns. Memes take hold, then disappear. One link of breaking news might hang suspended in your feed, hurtling through time like when astronauts do zero-gravity somersaults. You might see this as it happens — or 6, 9, 15, 22 hours later.

Trump’s racism, excess, nihilism, humor, and all the rest make him the ideal host for such a system — destroying forever that antiseptic corporate voice. But what Trump does best is reveal the nature of people and institutions. Even when Trump is gone, we’ll still have the algorithms; whether it’s that track from 2009 crossing from TikTok to Spotify, or a politician going live on Instagram, or whatever is happening on your phone right now — we’ve already adapted, and the next thing will be built on that shifting foundation.

Change like this can be overwhelming. The first run of Black Mirror, the dystopian British show that rose and fell inside Netflix, featured an episode about the relentless fragments that people now accumulate. Filmed in 2011, “The Entire History of You” takes an existing technology (the archival breadth of our phones), applies the logical conclusion (in the episode, people receive implants to track their every interaction for later playback), and sets both against a simple Greek tragedy–style story (a husband suspects his wife has betrayed him, and is driven mad by jealousy). The wife, hair over her eyes like a veil, reaches up to replay her memories for her husband.

Even in 2011, the episode presaged the now ever-present dialogue about cutting back, dropping out, and disconnecting: At a dinner, the table marvels at a woman who, without regret, has risked her memory and her eyesight to remove her implant.

The dynamic of overload and disorientation, and the final cathartic break from them, isn’t isolated to Black Mirror — it’s a dominant theme of the last five years of culture.

In real life, in the wake of the election, Facebook, Twitter, Google, and Instagram have talked about screentime limits, mute functions, preventing harassment and abuse — clawing back control. How to Do Nothing, Jenny Odell’s case for reasserting yourself in the tangible world, has become the centerpiece for essays and takes about cutting back and seeing, again, reality free from the algorithmic commodification of the personal. There are the essays about quitting Twitter, or the inherent avarice of Instagram, or reclaiming the life beyond the external presentation of self.

But people always seem to come back.

“This watch tells time,” begins a recent ad for the Apple Watch that then lists off all the other non-time-telling functions the item can do, from taking phone calls to playing music to performing an eletrocardiogram, before looping back around one last time at the end to say “This watch tells time.”

The introduction of this watch (that tells time) in 2015 deepened a kind of existential dilemma for the other kind of watches, which merely tell time. What purpose does a machine serve when the commodity that machine produced is all around us? “Why Men Are Wearing Watches That Don’t Tell Time,” read a Wall Street Journal headline a few years ago, like a riddle, above an old black-and-white photo of Andy Warhol wearing a Swatch.

Some men, the Journal reported, buy vintage mechanical watches but never get them serviced or repaired, or even wind them — they simply leave the watches dead. Stories like this can’t apply to that many people, but even if it’s just one man, somewhere right now, he walks this earth with a beautiful, broken watch.

Over the last decade, there have been little niche resurgences for items like this: record players, for instance, which promise tangible craftsmanship, and an audio experience that can’t be replicated in the digital. For $41.98, you can buy a lime green vinyl copy of Lana Del Rey’s new album and listen to her describe the end of the world and promise that she’s signing off before whispering at the very last moment “I hope the livestream’s almost on…” in perfect offline clarity. It’s hard to shake, however, the idea that these machines are simply counting off something that no longer needs counting, and trying to reassert the physicality of something no longer physical, detached and distinct from where all things meet.

We all know what’s changed — what’s really happened in the 2010s. It’s beneath that bridge in Brooklyn and it’s at the Trump rally in New Mexico, where exiting fans stopped to take selfies with the president speaking behind them in the distance. The man with the broken watch knows, the people who can’t quit know, and so does Lana Del Rey: The internet is no longer a place you go. Who we are on the phone and in the walking world have merged.

This is why algorithmic time is so disorienting and why it bends your mind. Everything good, bad, and complicated flows through our phones, and for those not living some hippie Walden trip, we operate inside a technological experience that moves forward and back, and pulls you with it. Using a phone is tied up with the relentless, perpendicular feeling of living through the Trump presidency: the algorithms that are never quite with you in the moment, the imperishable supply of new Instagram stories, the scrolling through what you said six hours ago, the four new texts, the absence of texts, that text from three days ago that has warmed up your entire life, the four versions of the same news alert. You can find yourself wondering why you’re seeing this now — or knowing too well why it is so. You can feel amazing and awful — exult in and be repelled by life — in the space of seconds. The thing you must say, the thing you’ve been waiting for — it’s always there, pulling you back under again and again and again. Who can remember anything anymore? ●

Sahred From Source link Technology

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