#itchy and dry no matter what cream i used | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

royallygray · 5 months ago

Text

When I was in middle school, I'm pretty sure I just started getting leg hair. Our school didn't have air conditioning. I don't know where I got the standard that women/girls should shave their legs, as I never had it addressed to me, but I had that idea.

I didn't want to wear shorts. I wore leggings every single day of that year, even when it was about 100 degrees.

And keep in mind, my school didn't have air conditioning.

I refused to wear shorts unless I shaved my legs. But I didn't want to ask my mom to get me a razor. So I suffered. I used my mom's razor in the cabinet without permission (dry shaving. don't do that. it's not comfortable). At some point, she removed it from there, and so I used literal scissors to cut my leg hair to be shorter. I would use nail clippers to get closer to my skin and/or to pluck the hairs from my legs.

And even with that, I didn't want to wear shorts because there was still hair on my legs, no matter how little.

I compared myself to Bigfoot, because the difference between my hairy leg to my almost bald foot was too stark. (Honestly, sometimes I still do. But I have less insecurities about it.)

I was worried that people would make fun of me. Other girls, whether it be my friends or my other peers, all had their legs shaved. I noticed because I looked. To compare myself.

Until it was way too motherfucking boiling hot and I broke down and asked my mom to buy me a razor. She got me one and some shaving cream.

I shaved my legs, and I remember feeling euphoric about it.

I went to school the next day in shorts. No one commented. I was happy.

The very next day, more hair had grown in. I can't remember if I shaved it or if it was short enough that I didn't care as much, but I was fine.

But throughout middle school, and high school, I realized that I fucking HATE shaving my legs. My hair is too dark. It takes too much time.

I hated the texture of my smooth legs against each other. But I also hated the texture of my hairy legs against each other. Leggings were my saving grace for all that time.

But shaving took too fucking long for me to care. And I stopped consistently shaving.

I'm pretty sure I was terrified the first day I wore shorts without shaving my legs. Because I'd come to the conclusion: fuck it. Leg hair naturally exists. It doesn't even matter. If people judge me, so be it, I guess. I'm not wasting time with this, feeling the awful texture of my smooth but spiky legs against each other and just generally torturing myself.

Currently, I don't shave. If I do, I shave about once per year. Or I only shave parts of my leg at a time if the texture of too much hair gets to me.

I'm a lot happier since I stopped caring as much.

If you shave, good for you. I shave my armpits because it's low effort for me, and if the hair gets too long, my armpits are really itchy.

If you shave your legs, good for you. If you don't, good for you. It doesn't matter. It's a choice. It's your body. You can do whatever the fuck you want.

But don't feel like you have to change your natural body to appease the world that isn't even looking at you.

And if it is, they will either think "damn, they're brave for displaying their body proudly" which makes you feel proud of yourself, or "wow they should really succumb to the pressure of social standards", in which case, fuck that? why should you care what they think?

I'm genderqueer, and now I get (gender?) euphoria from my hairy legs and Bermuda shorts. I also get euphoria from skirts because wow! I'm displaying a type of femininity in a way that makes me feel comfortable!

In the end, do with your body what you want. it's your life. No one else's. You choose what you want to do with your body and your life, and if that choice is removing yourself from a beauty standard, let yourself do that.

don't really know how to end this but drink some water, eat some food, get some sleep, shower, take care of yourselves, readers of this. sending love your way <3

not to keep harping on this but if you HATE shaving your body or any other part of your "beauty routine": stop doing it. just stop doing it, at least for a little while (maybe when you don't have a lot going on if that helps) and HONESTLY gauge how it makes you feel. is this feeling better or worse than the amount of time, stress, and money the routine takes? do YOU actually prefer how you looked before, or are you only worried about what others think? if you stopped doing the routine forever, could you find other ways to feel better about yourself with that energy?

when I was like 19 and the idea of not shaving my legs anymore first occurred to me (bc I had a Cool Progressive Boyfriend that Didn't Care) i just stopped and it was immediately like... a quantifiably large chunk of unnecessary anxiety just sloughed off my life forever. instantaneously I got rid a bunch of effort and stress I had been accepting as normal, and replaced it with more time to do what actually made me feel 'ready' in the morning, like hygiene, coffee, preparing for my activities etc.

and i DONT feel self conscious about body hair personally but even if I did, no amount of shame over hair could outweigh how much easier my life is. not just bc 'shaving annoying' or 'long showers' or whatever, but like. yeah I don't waste as much time getting ready anymore, and I also don't have to realize last minute before some leg-showing event that im unfit for display and have a whole self-esteem plummeting anxiety attack about whether I should rush it unsafely and risk being late, cut up, and stressed out before the event, or go With Hair and feel judged the whole time. i don't have to go through any of those emotions and when anyone does comment on my hair rudely, im in a much healthier place to deal with it and tell them to fuck off rather than validate THEIR fucked up standards by feeling bad.

once I realized I didn't give a shit and neither did anyone I cared about, it also gave me the freedom to cut out a bunch of other shit I was only doing (or Thinking I Should) bc it was what girls Have To Do to be presentable. fuck shaving fuck waxing fuck eyebrow shaping fuck concealer fuck multi step skincare fuck shapewear fuck lip fillers fuck contouring fuck teeth whitening fuck all of it, you do not need to change ANYTHING about how you look Every Single Day.

for those of you about to say "but I like being shaven/wearing makeup/literally pulling hair out of my face painfully every day etc etc etc":

have fun and mod your avatar all you want but for gods sake if you hate it and complain about how long it takes and all the stuff you "have" to buy or do just to "get ready" - you do not have to. you're not just having fun. you are not getting Ready, you are making your mood and experience worse for yourself, which is going to make you feel unready and unprepared for actually being yourself comfortably.

12K notes · View notes

vodka-redbull-daily · 1 year ago

Text

October 26th, 2023 (Part 1)

It was definitely an interesting experience trying to find the planned parenthood. I don't really know what I was expecting. From the things that I had seen online, the completely unfounded rage that my mom had for the company, this city I was living in, I was definitely a little bit nervous to go in. It was only for an STD screening. but still… This was Texas after all. I had looked up other places, but this was the only one that had an appointment available soon enough. I'm going to Boston in a few days and I wasn't even really worried about STDs at all. not until B------- had brought them up.

After he showed me his negative test results, the thought about STDs was more prevalent on my mind. it definitely was something I should have thought about since the beginning, but most of this plan wasn't well thought out, anyway. I shouldn't even be that worried, since out of everyone I've slept with so far, only two of them haven't worn condoms. One of them was B-------, who showed me his results. the other though…

While I had been giving P------ a blowjob, I had seen something strange on his balls. it could have just been a mole, a little wart, or just a birth defect. it could have been anything, really, and since he's also a person that likes to sleep with other people it seemed weird that he would have something like that and wouldn't say anything about it. Then again, he had done other things that made him seem like an untrustworthy individual. I really didn't like him that much. I felt extremely uncomfortable around him and seeing that on there was not helping the situation.

and I was itchy.

it's like back when I used to masturbate a lot as a teenager. it's all itching gross and incredibly Uncomfortable. I used to say this thing to myself when I was in Middle School because I didn't know enough about anatomy or how my body works. This would happen because I masturbated way too much and with the wrong tools. I would think to myself over and over ‘ my insides itch’ almost as a way to try and soothe the feeling without actually putting my fingers up there. it wasn't even technically true, since the part that was itching was the vulva, not actually inside the vagina. but my parents at my school had failed to teach me anything actually helpful in sex ed.

the itchiness hadn't happened in so long. I vaguely remember feeling pain and itchiness when I was with T----, but I'm pretty sure that was for different reasons. I'm pretty sure that was because he would demand to have sex with me even when I was in pain. even when I was complaining about how much I was hurting. about how sorry I was. often overworked and overstimulated, or irritated from the friction from him and my unusually dry vagina. and it never mattered to him if I was in pain or uncomfortable.

but I had been masturbating much more often than usual. I was using a $20 toy from Walmart that probably was not at the highest quality, getting railed by different men multiple times a day, and most of them are using condoms. I asked the doctor and the Planned Parenthood and she said that all those things could have caused the yeast infection.

because I'm pretty sure that's what it is.

at least I'm hoping that that's what it is.

She did a swab of me, the first swab I've ever had, and said that she definitely found some yeast cultures. She prescribed me a pill of some kind. I'm going to have to take the first one today whenever the prescription comes in, and the other in 3 days. I'll be on vacation when that happens. That means I'll take it in my luggage. I asked her if there's anything I could do for immediate relief and she also prescribed me a cream. I went through and did the whole screening, also. I peed in a cup. I got my blood drawn. just to be sure. I really like B-------. I respect him a lot. Getting the screening is a way to keep myself safe, but it's also a way to keep him and the other people I'm sleeping with safe. even if they usually use condoms.

getting my blood drawn was so much easier than I've ever had before. anytime I've had to get blood drawn before, the nurses won't believe me when I tell them I have teeny tiny veins and that they have to use the baby butterfly needle. it's been this way ever since I can remember. ever since the very first memory of getting blood drawn I have. when I was like 12 years old and passed out in the middle Church. got driven to the hospital where they took blood, exploded so many veins in both my elbows, and left him with massive bruises for weeks. takes me forever to heal from bruises. the nurse, well I'm pretty sure she was in her so I'm not sure, who took my blood here was way better.

she asked if I'd ever passed out or if I had any problem with needles. I told her that I didn't, but explained to her about my teeny tiny veins and how if they had a butterfly needle that would be excellent because that's the only thing that's ever worked. She asked a lot of questions, interrupted me a lot, and talked over me. Those last two are my biggest pet peeves, but the difference with her was that she listened. Even though she talked over me while I was giving her an answer, if she had a similar question later on, she showed that she remembered my answer from earlier. yeah, she did that by talking over me before I could say anything, but still knowing that she was actually listening to what I was saying was pretty helpful.

It was 10:30 a.m. so I was pretty tired. I think I went to bed at like 2:00 a.m., which is usually fine. that should have been at least 7 hours of sleep. The problem was, I was driving into Austin downtown and it was pouring down rain. The morons here can't figure out how to drive in the rain. and Texas rain comes down in droves when it decides to finally rain. while the knees worked that tiny needle into my vein, she just started talking. Started talking about anything and everything with no break in between. She talked about her son and about how he had had a pet snake, but the snake had died and he'd want to get a new one. Apparently, he'd wanted to get a big Burmese python. Or maybe a Red tailed boa? it was unclear, since she doesn't know snakes. why would she? From the description she gave me, those would be my guesses. basically, just a big snake.

I knew she would probably appreciate it more if I joined in the conversation, but I was really tired, very stressed about the thought of maybe having an STD, a little under having to explain my sexual history to a stranger ( even though I've been getting much better at that part), and I was also having my blood drawn at the same time. she just kept talking and talking, anyway, so they wouldn't have been able to put in a word if I had wanted to. Eventually, she asked me to hold a cotton ball for her while she took the needle out of my arm. she had done it in the first try. no bruising. well a little bit of bruising, but that's what happens when you get blood drawn. but they're definitely wasn't that big, round, painful bruise from the exploded veins that they're usually was.

afterwards, she was telling me about her technique about getting to the vein because I told her this was the first time I'd ever had a good experience with a needle. minus is my tattoos I guess, but that's a lame and dumb joke that everyone makes anytime you mention needles in a medical sense. she was really nice, a good nurse. if I was slightly more annoyed, if one more thing had been wrong and I was in one of those moods where I had gone over the edge, I probably would have been incredibly upset about her constant cheerfulness. In that moment, however, it was great. it wasn't exactly what I needed, but it was better than a cold and distant person. I was trying to get myself in that mood. the “get scared later” mentality and just push relentlessly onward, knowing that's what's going to be good for me in the end.

I only saw the doctor for about 2 minutes. explained all my symptoms, laid down bare ass naked with my feet in the stripes for the first time in my life, got opened up with a speculum for the first time in my life. It stung. I don't know if that's because it's the first time I've ever had a speculum inside me, if that's just something that always happens when you have a speculum inside you, if it's because I still haven't healed from that time B------ made me bleed, or if it was from the yeast infection does she discovered, or an actual std. everything was up in the air. Nothing was Conclusive. I hate it when that happens, but that's life. they said it would take three to five business days, if I remember right, before I would have my results. I was glad that she found the yeast. odds are, that's what it was instead of an std.

as far as I can guess, I was probably giving myself constant yeast infections when I was younger because I was so fucking horny all the time and just masturbated constantly. With the shame and embarrassment of constantly being bogged down by the sin of lust, I never did tell my mom about being comfortable feeling in my private parts. she already constantly accused me of being a whore for no other reason than being in a class with boys. there is no way I was going to actually confess to touching myself. I remember the time I had kidney stones I was too afraid to tell her because I was worried it was a UTI and then I would have to explain to her that I most likely got it from masturbating. Even the term UTI had to be learned from someone in my class because my mom had never had the balls to explain to me how my body works. The one time she tried to have any kind of “Sex talk” with us had been so painfully embarrassing that she had stopped before she said anything helpful at all. The only thing I gleaned from that conversation is that apparently my step dad likes to make noises in bed.

#blog #daily blog #suagr baby #suagr dating #vodka redbull #my writing #spilled thoughts #journal #daily journal

0 notes

echos-newlegs · 3 years ago

Text

So this is an NSFW Alphabet for Echo requested by @smallandangrey . They requested a Tech one as well, and an Echo fic so 😳 expect some more stuff.

I am still working on other requests in my inbox as well! Dw. Just worked on this since it was easier for my tired brain. Hopefully I can write an actual one-shot tomorrow 😌💕💕

No tags since this is strictly nsfw and I don't wanna make the tags uncomfortable 😳 idk it's late and I'm overthinking lmaoo

Echo NSFW Alphabet below the cut

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Since the citadel Echo has been real into affection. Especially with you. It often grounds him and reminds him that he's there, you're there, this is real. This is happening. So when the two of you finish he is almost always pulling you close to him. Though it did take some warming up, since at first he was really worried he'd hurt you or make you uncomfortable with his mechanical limbs.

After sex he just enjoys a good cuddle. He Especially loves it when you let him lay his head on your chest and you hold him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

After the citadel incident he's never really been into anything on himself. He'd have to say his eyes or his mouth. Since you always say you love his eyes, and his mouth seems to bring you the most pleasure from sex. Though I do hc only his thigh down were blown off in the explosion. He still isn't too sure about it since after citadel he lost a lot of his stamina and he doesn't last as long as he used to.

On you, I see this hc a lot but it honestly makes sense to me. Don't ask why, but he is a tits man. He enjoys the softer, sweeter things in life. So your tits? Small or big? Sheesh he's on 'em like they're his will to live! He could lay on them, squeeze 'em, or even suck on them all night if you let him. After you got him to open up about what he wanted to try out. Which again- took some time. But he admitted he'd like to fuck your tits. It was awkward at first for him, but he absolutely nearly died after. Especially since that was probably the shortest he'd ever last with you. He just completely lost it, especially when you licked some of the cum that got on the corner of your mouth. He swears his soul left him for a second after that.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He's not too into messes, but he does enjoy Cumming on your chest or your stomach. Echo doesn't really want to even try and risk accidentally impregnating you. Even if you are on the pill. Tech explained to him how even condoms AND the pill can backfire in numerous ways, and now he's just not risking it. So he normally just cums on your chest or. If you're okay with it, he'll finish in your mouth. Which also has him going absolutely nuts.

As for yours? He loves it on his tongue. Eating you out is one of his favorite things to do, and when you cum from JUST his tongue? Absolutely heavenly for the man.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Echo would be interested in trying out toys I fell. Especially with his mecho hand. He'd find add ons that gave you pleasure. Or was just enough to just tease you with. I feel like he would also have a dirty photo of you saved for just him when the two of you are apart. One that you don't know about so it just adds to his own thrill.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Echo at first after the citadel is fairly rusty. If the two of you were together before then he's really insecure he won't meet the expectations like he did before he was in stasis for almost over a year. If the two of you weren't together he's still insecure, but at least he knows that you don't know how he was in bed previous years before.

He does in fact know what he's doing. His arc twin is Fives, and I am sure that door told him stories and hooked Echo up with at least one or two beings in their lifetime.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Since Echo is a tits man he likes you either on your back, riding him, or fucking you with a mirror in front of the two of you. The way your tits bounce mesmerize him and he loves having his mouth or hands on them while the two of you get nasty. What drives him absolutely feral is when you ride him and bring his hands up to your chest. Then squeeze your hands over his his while they squeeze your breasts. Absolutely divine.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It really depends on his mood. Echo has more of a sarcastic, dry sense of humor. So if he is feeling it he will crack a joke here or there, but not too many. If you two are having sex after a long mission where he thought he wasn't going to make it out(or if he didn't think you were, if you travel with tbb.) Then he's normally more serious and sappy while he fucks you slowly into the night. Reminding himself that he has you and you have him, still.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Echo is pretty well groomed. He doesn't like a mess, and plus it's too itchy for him when it gets too long. So he always keeps it trimmed down. Never shaved, since for one, he doesn't like the feel of it growing back. Then two he just doesn't like himself with no hair down there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Echo is normally pretty romantic especially when it comes to sex. He doesn't fuck to fuck, he fucks for love. He normally only sleeps with people he has an absolute attraction to. Someone that he knows won't hurt him. Or at least believes they won't. So he normally does his best to keep the moment romantic and perfect for the two of you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Echo normally doesn't jack off too much. He usually waits to come home to you so the two of you can actually help each other feel good. Rather than a hand and his imagination. Though, if he does get a nasty picture of you? He won't hesitate to use it if the mission lasts longer than usual or he's extra stressed out from his crew mates.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise Kink: this boy will absolutely love you all night long, the more you praise him. Even simple things like "that feels so good," "you're so amazing," and stuff like that will push him further to make you feel absolutely angelic.

Not sure if this is a kink or what you'd call it, but man would die if you gave him a lap dance. Echo loves taking care of you, but when you take care of him?? He feels like the luckiest guy in the galaxy.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers the comfort of a bed. Where the two of you have time to appreciate everything you give each other. There has been a rare occasion or two where he gets a little handsy at 79s after a few too many drinks and a guy flirting with you. Where you find yourself getting fingered in the corner or fucked in the bathroom.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Echo loves it when you wear lingerie. Even if you don't think you look good in it he thinks you're absolutely beautiful no matter what. And if it's blue or white he goes feral.

If you kiss him in front of someone hitting on him. Or hold his hand when he's being hit on. Show any signs that he is yours and you are his, he's probably going to take you the moment you two have time.

Another big turn on for him is when you praise him throughout the day. Man can't resist it. Especially when you say it in a dirtier tone and act all innocent when he confronts you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Bondages is a bug no from him. From all the times in the war he's been held in restraints, or he's witnessed his brothers and Generals in restraints he can't stand them. He can't even handle you in them. It triggers something in him that ruins the mood for the both of you.

He doesn't like the thought of knife or gun play. If you or him are getting hurt in the process he won't do it. He may spank you playfully here or there, but that’s about it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He honestly prefers giving over receiving. He loves it when you're a writhing mess and gripping at him or the sheets for dear life. The taste of you and the sound of your lewd moans has him nearly creaming his pants. Plus he just loves the satisfaction of knowing he can make you come undone like that.

He isn't against you giving him oral here or there though. Some days he loves it, especially when he's stressed out and you just drop on your knees like some sort of gift from above.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Echo prefers a more slow and sensual pace. He loves making it last as long as he can. He is definitely one of those, "this could be out last time. Let's make it last." Type of guys. So expect more love making than fucking. Though there are time where he'll give you a good fuck. Maybe one of the nights where he does try and dom. Though it normally ends with you sitting on his face because he absolutely loves it when you do. If you suffocated him he would die a happy man.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He isn't too fond of them, but he isn't against them either. If he is doing a quickie he'd prefer to make sure no one caught you two. He'd probably die of humiliation.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Echo will only experiment if you recommend something new. As long as it isn't really messy/gross, the two of you stay safe through it, and restraints and blind folds aren't a part of it he's all good for it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

After the citadel he lost a majority of his strength in general. Before he could last about 3-4 long rounds. Now he's lucky if he gets 2 in. He normally doesn't last too long either. Though after time he does begin to last longer and you're able to finish with him for the most part.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

His hand. As said above he uses his robotic hand for sex quite a bit. He adds on accessories. Anything to make his partner feel absolutely euphoric.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Echo enjoys teasing here or there on his end, but you can normally work your way around it. One simple please and he's normally doing what you want. You have him wrapped around your finger for the most part.

He normally despises when you tease him. Mostly because he just hates begging for anything.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Echo is a talker and a groaner. He loves muttering sweet nothings in your ear, and will also praise you to the moon. Especially if you praise in return. He grunts and groans to the point the rest of tbb tease him about it til he's flushed red and trying to.make up excuses.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He would like to try sharing you. He knows his brothers like you and has thought about sharing you with one or two of them at a time. He would take charge through it, since you are technically with him and not them, but he just thinks it would be exciting and fun. He doesn't know how to ask and is too anxious you would hate the idea to ask, though.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Echo lost a lot of his muscles while in stasis. He is slowly gaining that and his color back though. Along with getting upgrades for his prosthetics. Like an actual hand that Tech built for him. As for his dick, it's average clone size. Longer and thicker than the average person's.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His isn't really too high. Even once he gets used to the fact that you love him and his body, he doesn't really have that high of a sex drive. He controls himself pretty good and doesn't really even need to jack off much unless he's really stressed. That doesn’t mean he won't initiate sex with you the moment he sees you after a long mission though.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He for the most part tries to stay up, playing with your hair until your asleep above/below/beside him. Wherever the two of you decide to cuddle against one another. It's sort of his way of making sure it's all real though. Some nights he is the first to pass out though.

#clone wars echo #arc trooper echo #clone trooper echo #echo #echo the clone wars #echo x reader #bad batch echo #bad batch x reader #star wars #the bad batch #clone x reader #star wars alphabet #bad batch smut #echo smut

364 notes · View notes

elias-magnusnt · 4 months ago

Note

The hard bits on shoelaces are called aglets. It's bin time in your area tomorrow, every week you forget about it and then have to do the walk of shame to fill back the empty bin. Jurgen Lietner usually didn't wear pants when he lived in the tunnels. Dinosaurs are older than grass. You've almost run out of lightbulbs and your kitchen one is about to blow, go buy more. The Great Wall of China was built over a period of roughly two thousand years, which is older than me. You're kind of a sentimental at heart, you can't bring yourself to get rid of hand written notes or postcards from people you used to care about. Martin uses vanilla-scented handwash. Humanity has catalogued 193,756 marine species, which is only 11% of the estimated total. One of Sasha's last thoughts was how much she hated her job in Artefact Storage. The shampoo you use has sodium laureth sulfate in it, which is probably drying your scalp and making it itchy. When I do sleep, I sleep with my eyes open. Daisy has hot chocolate with marshmellows on the days she feels she's losing control and nothing matters. You tried to play acoustic guitar as a student and it was so bad you can't even think of it without cringing. I think it was decent. Ben & Gerry's cookie dough ice cream claims it contains 27% cream. That's actually wrong, the percentage is closer to 28%. You used to talk to your plants because you heard that helps them grow. They all died anyways. Wasn't your fault, it was aerial stem rot. Higher ups are planning to discontinue that brand of tomato paste you like very much, the Mutti one :( So you should stock up on it. Pugs are genetically much more likely to have heart and breathing problems because they've been bred irresponsibly. Robert Smirke had that habit where he picked at the skin of his neck until it was all bloody and infected. You prefer to have some light on when you sleep. Mike Crew's mother used to put lavender oil on his pillow to help him sleep. You've got the start of a hole on those green socks of yours, the ones with the lines. The old lady that lives two floors above you had a heart attack the other day, just rotting there now. Her cats are going at it. Cancer isn't what makes you bald, chemotherapy is. Sturgeons are usually much bigger than other edible fish and the meat is a lot drier. Georgie Barker usually uses her partners' breathing to help her fall asleep. Hugging someone you love liberates oxytocin. There is often no difference at all between fear and respect. You avoid your own gaze in the mirror when you're brushing your teeth. Gertrude Robinson once ate a worm as a child and actually quite liked it. Later on, she'd try frogs, wild berries. She stopped when she tried to chomp on a wasp and it stung her. Napoleon Bonaparte was good at arithmetics. Basira never learned how to play hopscotch. You never walk on the edges of tiles because that makes you feel uneasy. If they are different colors, you try to stick to one color, preferably not red. That cat you've been feeding kibble when you see her at the park is pregnant with two kittens. You would like to be... okay I'm not spposed to say this one.

your boss is drunk rn

Yes, I know. It's none of my business, though.

#tw alcohol #tma rp #rp chain

24 notes · View notes

danascully77 · 3 years ago

Text

Drabble based on a twitter post

A ridiculous drabble inspired by this post: https://twitter.com/stellafknscully/status/1462801501894676495

I wrote this in five minutes. Idk y’all.

________________________________________________________________

When Stella wakes up, she instantly knows something is wrong. Her face feels dry and itchy and she licks her lips to find they are crusty and her top lip feels more plump than it should. Scratching her head, she grunts as the wig she is still wearing slides off her skull to reveal matted hair underneath. The dress she was wearing for the costume party Scully convinced her to attend, is ripped half open and her under garments are nowhere to be found. A dry smirk graces her lips as memories of the night flash back to her and she moans as she sits up to stretch sore muscles.

“Mmm, mornin’ Stel.” Scully mumbles as her movements pull her from lip. Her dress is also half-on, but the wig and half of her makeup lay smeared across her pillow. Blinking her eyes open, she sits up to give Stella a kiss, but jerks away at the last second. “Oh my god, Stella!”

“What?” Stella questions with a frown, reaching up to touch her face when everything feels tight. “What is it?”

“Are you allergic to anything?” Scully responds, instantly going into doctor mode. She sits up completely and leans over to examine Stella’s face which is puffy and blotchy. “It looks like you’ve had a reaction to something.”

“I’m allergic to a few chemicals in cheap make-up, but I make sure to buy hypoallergenic products.” Stella groans, pushing off the bed to look at her face in the mirror. A loud gasp of shock emits from the bathroom and Scully sheepishly follows. “I don’t understand! I didn’t use anything harmful.”

“Ummm, Stella.” Scully whispers, stepping behind her to look at her reflection in the mirror. “I might have accidentally bought lotion that wasn’t hypoallergenic.”

“Well that shouldn’t matter.” Stella frowns, not immediately catching on. “I wasn’t kissing your legs last ni--” Her comment is cut-off as her brain makes sense of the information. True, she wasn’t kissing her legs last night, but those legs were locked around her shoulders as Scully rode the hell out of her face. The brush of her thighs had sent shivers of pleasure down her spine last night, but those same thighs are responsible for her allergic reaction. “Shit.” Stella grunts.

“I’m so sorry, Stel. I had no idea.” Scully starts to ramble, feeling guilty before Stella turns around and captures her face with her hands.

“Dana, breathe.”

“Stella…”

“It was an accident. I’m not mad.” The sincerity in her voice makes Scully breathe a breath of relief. “Do you have any meds to help with the swelling?”

“Oh, yes!” Jumping to action, eager to be of assistance to help solve the condition that she caused, Scully runs down to her kit and returns with Benadryl and topical cream. “This will help with the rash.”

Stella sits on the toilet and allows Scully to gently apply the cream before she swallows one of the pills offered to her. Her hands rest peacefully on Scully’s hips as she works and despite the ache in her face, she is pleasantly happy this morning. Chuckling when Scully steps away, she nods to the tub. “We should probably bathe and get out of these costumes.”

Scully laughs with her and nods, leaning down to kiss the top of Stella’s head. “I’d like that.”

As Scully steps back, Stella raises and brushes some hair from her lover’s forehead. “I had a good time last night.”

“Me too.” Searching her eyes over her swollen face, Scully bites her lip. “Sorry for buying the wrong lotion.”

“It was worth it.”

#this is not my best work #please ignore this

18 notes · View notes

bisexual-inuyasha · 3 years ago

Text

The Hook

Chapter 2: Getting to Know You

Prompt: “I shouldn’t be here.” “Well you are. Don’t even think about leaving.”

The next morning, Ling woke up alone. Ed had reminded him Al expected him back. And besides, Ling was all talk. He could kiss Edward Elric but anything more would have to wait until he dealt with his suitor situation. It wasn’t cheating, he knew. But that didn’t mean it was right.

Was he a suitor when he never bothered to ask? Ling’s eyes were itchy with lack of sleep. His cheek tingled from where he’d slept on it. God, mornings sucked. Especially early mornings after a late night.

Even still… he smiled. Last night had not been a total waste. He wrapped his fingers around something warm and smooth, something that had rested against his curled stomach through the night.

“Young Lord, I’ve brought you a snack before your meeting. You barely ate yesterday, so I brought extra.” Lan Fan’s voice carried through the doorway, especially loud. “Do you need anything to drink?”

“He’s gone, Lan Fan.” Ling sighed, sitting up. He was decidedly less dressed than when he’d gone to his rooms. By the time Ed left he was too tired to shrug into his sleep clothes. He’d been missing a shirt and his pants had already been half off. He’d just stripped into his undies and fallen asleep under a mountain of blankets.

“What’s that?” Lan Fan sat across from him, her legs crossed and posture careful. “A gift?”

“You could say that.”

It was only a small cat figure, crudely carved from a soft wood Ling had never gotten around to figuring out on his own.

“It’s. Um, cute?”

It wasn’t. It looked awful. Edward wasn’t artistically inclined in that way. Ling couldn’t care less. “Thank you.”

“Speaking of gifts, you’ve got another. It arrived this morning.” Lan Fan took a bite of Ling’s food. “You should eat.”

“What was the gift?” Ling scooped up a mouthful of rice. “Who was it from?”

“Not Edward Elric.” Lan Fan spoke around her food. “The other man you’re supposed to be involved with.”

Ling’s throat felt dry. He coughed. “We’ve certainly not been meant to be involved yet, Lan Fan. That won’t happen for another month. You know there’s quite a long engagement process in Xing.”

“Yes, Sire. I’m aware.” She closed her eyes. He watched as she considered for a moment. “When you are ready for my opinion I will be sure to give it.”

Irritation flared through Ling but he let it pass. Lan Fan was always free to give her opinion. The only thing putting him off was that he knew what her opinion was. And that she was right. He took a deep breath and pushed a smile onto his face. “I await the day.”

Today was not like the last two. He had so much to do. It was not like his engagement meant the kingdom stopped running. And his hands-on approach to ruling meant he couldn’t shove many duties onto his advisors and court. He was entangled in all of the decisions, from clan relations to trade negotiations. He had all the details and all the paperwork.

So he dragged himself up, splashing cool water on his face. Lan Fan raised an eyebrow at his undress.

“It’s not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before.”

“No, that’s true. I used to kick your ass when you’d wake up half naked after getting mugged in the Hua clans.”

“I wish you wouldn’t remind me of starving days.” Ling put on a pouty face. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to respect me now, Lan Fan? I’m working hard as emperor.”

“I have the utmost respect for you, Sire.” She smiled at him, and it was genuine. She wasn’t too angry at him, then. “I just want you to be careful. You are walking in a thin place. The thin places are difficult to keep you safe in.”

“You don’t have to protect me from everything, Lan Fan.” He gathered up his robes. With a celebration came the expectation of finery. “Though if you want to help me into this ridiculous outfit, I’d appreciate it.”

She did, and by the time his first round of consultation was to start, he was fully dressed. His hair was pulled back today, in the proper style. He arranged his expression into an indifferent coolness.

“Don’t forget, Sire. You’ve got the matter of the gift to deal with.”

His stomach clenched. “Don’t worry. I won’t forget it.”

When she wasn’t looking, Ling snuck the little cat into his pocket.

The mysterious suitor’s gift was on his mind through the whole morning. As his constituents asked about the borders of their fields and the negotiation, he ran his thumb over the figurine in his pocket and tried not to look towards the table where the gift waited for him.

A maze of questions and conflicts and negotiations later, he was being led to the gift. A no stuck in his throat. Refusal built like a physical pressure in his chest. The urge to leave was so strong his hands shook with it.

His advisors were clueless. And of all the days, Lan Fan was busy with other affairs. She wasn’t even in the palace. For the first time since he was inaugurated, a clammy sweat broke over his forehead.

He stood at the box. He didn’t care what was in it. It wouldn’t change his mind, whatever it was.

But accepting the gift was a furthering. For every step into Xingese tradition he took, the expectation he would follow through grew. Maybe this is why he just stood, staring at the box, for several minutes.

The longer he took, the heavier the silence around him grew.

Low rumbling started in the back of the crowd. A few people grumbled and a couple shouted as someone aggressively, and rudely, shoved their way through.

Ed pushed his way near the front, a notebook in his hand, his metal fingers clasped around a pen. Ling heard him shout over the thin wall of people ahead of him. “Well, get on with it. How else are any of us supposed to know what’s in it?”

Ling laughed. He pulled the fabric wrapping from the box. It was a nice enough fabric. From far away, the cloth had just looked like a boring eggwhite, but up close he could see damasked swirls twisting around the corners. The box was equally almost boring--cream, slightly darker, with a line of gold around the opening. His expectations were low.

And good thing.

The gift was a simple, expensive shaving set. Ling felt like this was something Fu would have enjoyed. However, he, with his lack of facial hair and attachment to his other bodily hair, had no use for it. He quirked a brow, put the nice, ivory handled blade back into the oversized box beside the crystal container of what he could only assume was cologne. Maybe?

A single boom of laughter sounded from the general vicinity of Ed, but no one else seemed to think anything of the gift. And then, to his horror, one of his advisors cleared their throat.

“For when he is here, Sire. To shave your husband.”

Ling carefully closed the box. He was trying, and failing, to look nonchalant.

“Sire, should we respond with a gift in kind?”

Ling ground his teeth. “I will be in my room, crafting a response for my… suitor.”

He’d chosen the word specifically for its connotation of uncertainty. A suitor has not been accepted yet. The advisors all glared, and a few of the crowd closest to him gasped. He could feel the burning in his cheeks. Anger, embarrassment, and maybe a smidge of disappointment flooded his thoughts. He needed to be out of here.

Murmuring grew behind him, growing to a small roar as the heavy doors to the court closed behind him.

It was hard to stomp through all his layers but he did his best.

The kitchens were busy when he arrived. Lan Fan was elbow deep in a bowl of dumpling filling. She took one look at his face and picked up the bowl to move towards him.

“We should go, Sire,” she finished kneading the ingredients together and dumped the bowl into the arms of another kitchenhand. “Your face may frighten the staff.”

He shuttered his expression, pushing the emotions and thoughts deep inside until he could be somewhere private. It was not easy, and from Lan Fan’s face he could tell he was not fully successful. He tried, though, and that was the best he could do.

“It was bad?” Lan Fan spoke under her breath while she washed her hands.

He couldn’t speak on it. It was insulting, actually. The kind of gift given to a stranger. But worse so, because it was a gift truly meant for the gifter--a gift of expectation. A note that said one day, he expected Ling to serve him.

He did not become Emperor to serve over-confident old men.

The thought made him bristle. His face contorted into a sneer, despite his best efforts to keep a neutral expression. He turned away, so that only Lan Fan could see him. “It is best discussed somewhere else.”

She didn’t respond, only dried her hands and hurried from the room. Ling followed, though he could only go so fast without tripping over the length of his robes. The hindrance was especially frustrating, and even more so because he wanted to move. To push himself, quicken his steps and his body until he couldn’t hardly breathe.

He already didn’t want to do this.

He had a growing list of reasons to refuse.

Except.

Except there was a reason he accepted in the first place.

It was enough to fuel the fire inside him higher, until he was nearly bursting at the seams in his shuffling pace.

Finally, they were in an empty room. A quick glance around told him it was an empty washroom, and if not for Lan Fan’s very blatant disinterest in men, they may have been in trouble. As it was, she only slammed the door closed (a cathartic sound, though it did nothing for his thrumming body.) When she turned towards him, there was only concern. He hadn’t realized he’d expected anything less. But now, some tightness around his lungs loosened.

He’d been expecting a reprimand.

“What was the gift?” She started pulling his robes off of him.

Briefly, he wondered if this was unusual. The thought left his mind as soon as it crossed. He shifted his shoulders to help her remove the uppermost layer. “It was a shaving set.”

“Hm?” She moved to his front, untying a sash. “But you don’t have any facial hair.”

“It wasn’t for me to use myself.” Ling’s hands shook again. “Hua explained. It was for me to use, on him.”

Lan Fan’s fingers fumbled on the sash. “That doesn’t make sense, Sire.”

“It was meant as exactly what it was.” Ling stepped back and finished undoing the sash to his underrobe himself. “A notification of expectation. A signal that he wants me to be a doting husband.”

“I can see how in some twisted way that makes sense.” Lan Fan frowned. “Though he must be aware it doesn’t give a good impression.”

“He doesn’t think he has to care. He offered his hand in marriage without knowing me, Lan Fan. He wasn’t taking me into account at all. He wants Xing.”

“No.” She sat on an empty countertop. Her expression bothered him. “Not just Xing. He wants you, too. Sire.”

His skin felt raw. Only a few days ago, that may have been a relief. Now it was an irritation digging its way into his blood. “What makes you say that?”

“He’s been keeping tabs on you through the advisors. He has asked specifically after your health and happiness. The reports have been mixed, but he’s asked more than once.”

For a moment, Ling went cold. “Have any of them mentioned--”

“No. No mention of him. But the Amestrian does seem interested in you, specifically, Sire.” She frowned. “Though, I can say from your reaction to the gift that it’s a hopeless cause on his part.”

“What do I do?” He sat on the floor. At least a dozen tailors would be scandalized at his treatment of his clothing, but what did he care? Those same tailors complained every time he wore an outfit a second time.

“I cannot answer you, Ling. I’m sorry.” She smiled. “You should go to breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry.” He was too angry to feel hungry.

“Ed will be there. Surely, he will calm you down.” Lan Fan smiled. “Besides, you should at least try.”

Ling closed his eyes. “I’m not putting the robes back on.”

“You’ll scandalize us all, Sire.” But she was still smiling when she said it. “Please, at least keep your head around the boy.”

Ling blushed. He left, tired and still irritated.

He ignored the stares of the others. Admittedly, his under robe and darkest, loosest pants were not the usual outfit for an emperor. It would take until tomorrow for the rumors to reach outside the kingdom. And when they did, he’d solidify them with his announcement of withdrawal from the marriage.

What had Ed called it?

A soft rebellion.

He sat, heavily, in his seat at the top of the table. Ed and Al sat near him, like they had the night before. Soon, this would become noticeable. Soon, he’d have to deal with all of the fallout from there. Right now though…

“I like your new look.” Ed tapped his fingers on his glass, taking a deep drink. He stared Ling down, questioning. “It’s certainly to stir up some talk around here. Especially with how you stormed out earlier.”

“Surprised you noticed over all your laughter.” Ling stretched in his seat. The dining hall was chilly as the flame of his anger started to wane. “Al, you wouldn’t believe how loud your asshole of a brother laughed at me in my own court.”

“I’m sure he didn’t laugh half as loud as he snored.” Al contemplated, rubbing their chin. “Though I guess he didn’t do much snoring in your room last night.”

Ed and Ling both squawked a protest but Al just snorted.

“I gotta say, though. Your kitchen knows how to make a roast quail that just melts.” Al took a bite, a nibble really, and savored it.

“Al’s a bit of a foodie. In fact, I don’t think they’ve ever enjoyed a place we’ve visited as much. They go on and on about the food here in the room. Do you know how much I had to hear about the sugared sweet potatoes? That was a half hour rant at least.”

“They were good! And one of the cooks said she’d share her recipe with me.” Al’s eyes narrowed, a slow and innocent smile spreading across their face. “Besides, it’s not like I haven’t had to hear--”

“Ha! An-any way.” Ed waved his arm, the shine glinting with the bright lights of the room.

Ling caught the metal fingers in his, and Ed’s face lit up like a cherry sparkler. “Did you polish this?”

“Uh…” Ed’s mouth fell open as Ling openly observed the newly cleaned screws and gleaming plates. “Well, yeah. I mean, if I’m going to be modelling for an emperor, I figured it best be up to emperor’s standards.”

“Silly Edward.” Ling pulled the hand towards his face, checking the wear and tarnish. The scuff was still noticeable at the thumb, bits of unreachable fade peeking out from beneath overlapping metal. “I like your hands either way.”

Al coughed. “People are going to notice if you guys keep all that up.”

Ling dropped Ed’s hand and turned to his food. “So you say the quail is good?”

His appetite did return. He ate steadily through baked quail, quail egg dotted rice, taro starch candies, fried squash blossoms, sweet tomato filled dumplings. Occasionally Al would ask about a dish and he’d explain whatever he knew--not usually very much--and they’d write down a few notes to ask about later. And occasionally, he’d glance over to see Ed, a wide grin on his face, eyes alight, cheeks still tinged pink, and his heart would stutter.

This was the feeling he’d dreamed of as a kid. This excitement buzzing through him whenever he looked at Ed. The easy comradery between himself and the two brothers.

Ling leaned over, keeping his voice quiet and his body language inconspicuous. Al didn’t even look up.

“Let’s meet up where we met the first time, tonight.”

Ed nodded, and they continued through their meal until Ling had to excuse himself.

If Ed’s face turned a deeper shade of red, Al didn’t mention it.

As much as Ling was enjoying his scandalous outfit, he couldn’t justify doing any more official work in it. He changed into a simpler, less heavy version of the outfit he wore that morning. He hadn’t seen Lan Fan at breakfast. He assumed she had a good reason for wherever she was. Still. He wanted to tell her he’d made up his mind.

He toured through the city, overseeing repair projects and brokering deals between bickering businesses. The people weren’t quite sure what to do with him. And he was still learning exactly how to be what they expected of him. His advisors had tried to shepherd him into similes of past emperors. He chafed under their pressures as they tried to fill a shell they’d formed for him. The worst times were when they could cite legitimate reasons for their herding.

For example, he was exposed and in danger while out in the towns. So therefore, they must be able to have him well guarded. This very logical set of observations was followed with therefore every step he made had to be very meticulously timed and prescreened. Theoretically, he would spend only a small allotted time at each job, and no more.

One thing was always true, no matter how meticulously planned his outings. Each job multiplied. If he showed up to discuss the demarcation of a farming plot, the result would mean that already grown crops would have to be divided. Inevitably, a dispute would have to be settled. Then, as is only polite when you’ve just told at least one person they’ve less crops than they thought they did, he’d sit for a tea.

Today he didn’t get to lunch. Or back for another round of celebrations. And this was the way it always went, for any of his days he spent out with the people.

It was his favorite part of the job.

By the time he returned to the palace he was exhausted deep in his very bones. The robes, lighter he’d thought than the earlier ones, weighed him down. And still, he had dinner to go through. And the aftermath of this morning to handle. He wanted to sleep.

Then, he remembered.

He had a meeting. After dinner.

His steps still dragged, but a little less.

He made his way to his room and collapsed in his bed.

Only to jump up a moment later, shouting. “What the hell?”

A body wiggled under his covers. Fighting his way from a mountain of plush blankets, Ed’s head popped up. “Oh, you’re back. You were supposed to be back hours ago.”

A soft smile lit his face despite the heaviness of his limbs. “I can’t half ass a job with the people. They’d never forget and the bitching wouldn’t end for years. Probably until I died.”

“Even during your engagement?”

Ling scoffed. “Don’t play with me. You and I both know that’s a sham.”

“You sure?” Ed hugged the covers to his chest. Ling thought it was awfully cheeky that the Amestrian could sleep in his bed, wake up, and immediately start asking prying questions. Maybe he should have been bothered. Instead he was mildly impressed.

“Am I sure that the supposed suitor of mine who I’ve never met, who has no reason to have any interest in a decades younger new emperor in a country with an assassin problem, is nothing more than a sham of political leverage?” Ling slid his top off. He’d put it back on before dinner. But now, he needed to be lighter.

“Leverage? And what does that mean, for you?”

This conversation was a heavy one. Heavier than the exhaustion in his bones. Heavier than the robe he��d allowed to slide onto the floor. Heavier still than the thoughts that had been running through his head all day. “Do you know how I became Emperor?”

Ed frowned. “You fought your way through the other heirs, made alliances, made deals. That’s how every Xingese emperor ascends, right?”

“No. I’d have never been able to fight my way through 43 heirs.” Ling rubbed his eyes. “Promises. I made promises to those I didn’t need to fight my way through. Promises that their clan wouldn’t starve. Promises that I wouldn’t mercilessly kill those clans whose heirs I did have to fight through.”

“Sounds better.” Ed smiled. Ling didn’t.

“If I promised you, right now, that I would fix Amestris for you. That utilizing my marriage to your ruler, I would root out and destroy the corruption that causes Amestris to spread into neighboring countries like a virus. How would you feel?”

Ed’s face shifted, first to anger then to thoughtfulness, before finally landing on doubt. “How could you, even if you did marry him? Amestrians aren’t trusting. They’ve been in war after war--”

“Exactly. And yet, with the resources of Xing, the possibility arises that I could. And this is the possibility I’m faced with. Right now, I’m new, and my rule is based on promises that are thin until I fulfill them. And some of them will only be fulfilled when I die and haven’t killed off the opposing clans. When people aren’t used to honesty, believing in good things will become impossible.” Ling sat on the bed, pushed aside the covers. Ed was still dressed in this morning's clothes. As any normal person would be, Ling decided. “Having a strong military force behind my decrees would go a long way to making people take me seriously.”

“Sounds cowardly to me.” Ed crossed his arms. Ling was going to have to reign this conversation in, or he’d get no sleep before dinner.

“Yes, cowardly,” Ling wrapped his arms around Ed’s waist. “I’m certainly cowardly enough, but maybe not enough for this.”

Ed fought back his grin, but to no avail. “Well, I can’t believe I was lured all the way to the palace under false pretenses.”

“You mean you don’t want to become my mistress?” Ling placed a kiss against Ed’s throat. He wouldn’t usually be so forward, but he had found Ed in his bed.

“Don’t think I’ve got the legs.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to anyway.” And then Ling pulled Ed down, curled around the small statured boy, and fell asleep.

This way, exactly, was how Lan Fan found them. Ed, lying awake in Ling’s arms, and Ling, deep asleep.

“He seems relaxed.” Lan Fan shut the door quietly behind her. “This is good. I wanted to talk to you privately anyway.”

Ed sputtered. “He’s right here, it’s not like we’re alone.”

Lan Fan gave him a deadpan stare. Then she opened her mouth, talking loudly. “Ling! Oh, Ling, it’s an emergency, Ed is cutting off my leg with his automail arm. He’s going to kill me Ling, watch out!”

Ed gaped, waving his free hand in her direction. “Stop it stop it stop it! What are you doing?”

But Ling didn’t wake up. He only snuggled deeper into Ed’s chest, wrapped his arms tighter around Ed’s waist, and hummed contentedly.

“So, as I was saying.” Lan Fan on Ling’s desk, glancing through some of his pictures. “You came here before he got back. Before lunch. You must be hungry.”

“Starving, actually.”

“Careful, he’s got to be starving too.” She rested her chin on her hand, staring him down. “He’s been known to nibble in his sleep.”

“You two are close, yeah?”

“What are your intentions with the Emperor of Xing?” She uncrossed her leg, hopping down from the work desk. “How can I trust you?”

“We had an interesting conversation about trust earlier.” Ed looked up to the ceiling. “I don’t have any intentions, to be honest. I barely know him.”

Lan Fan was at the edge of the bed now. He could feel her cool touch on his leg, a threat more than a comfort. “That’s not a very comforting answer, considering what’s on the line.”

“You couldn’t very well trust me if I lied to you, could you?” Ed swallowed. “I like him. I have since I saw him half-passed out in the garden. He was so far gone he couldn’t stand, and he thought the flowers were stars.”

“It’s hard to understand why you went out after him.” Lan Fan’s grip on his leg tightened. “I had assumed he wanted to be alone. Why didn’t you?”

“I--” Ed hesitated. How much did he want to tell her? “I’ve had that look on my face before. The one he had when he went outside. I hadn’t wanted to be alone, then.”

“So you just took a chance? Followed a hunch?” She sat on the bed. Ling shifted beside him. “And then stayed out there with him, until we found you.”

“He doesn’t remember that part, I think.” Ed spread his fingers over Ling’s arm. “He asked me to lay with him. I didn’t want to disappoint him.”

“You really don’t want anything from him, do you?”

“Just a chance.” Ed turned his face into Ling’s hair. “A chance to get to know him.”

“He wants you to.” Lan Fan sighed. “It’s time to get ready for dinner, now.”

“Right.” Ed ran his fingers through Ling’s hair, careful to keep the metal from tangling. “I should probably go. You probably wanted to talk to him, yeah?”

“I think it would be best.” Lan Fan didn’t move. “After all, it wouldn’t do for you two to arrive at dinner together, again.”

Ed moved carefully, lifting Ling’s arm and sliding out from beneath him. “He sleeps like a log.”

“Only after his visits to the people. It drains him but he loves it. He doesn’t do well sitting still.” She stood before Ed could reach the door, hand outstretched. “I think you’ll love him, before too long. I wish you good luck, Edward Elric. It is no easy task loving Ling Yao.”

He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t get me wrong. It’s worth it, every step.” Her hand hung in the air, waiting. “But he is emperor. And he doesn’t understand how important he is.”

“I make no promises.” He shook her hand and left, feeling somehow that he had made a vow, despite his claims.

Maybe he was already a lot deeper in than he thought.

They didn’t sit together at dinner this time. Ling was dressed in the robe he’d worn to town, only slightly rumpled, and smiling at everyone. A few people had attempted to ask him about his show over the gift this morning. He waved off their questions easily and changed the subject.

He’d even had one of the waiters sneak a baked taro bun over to Al, who had greedily devoured the whole thing. But he didn’t look at Ed.

Lan Fan stuck to his side, slyly moving him away from the less pleasant visitors. Ling pretended not to notice, but at one point he grew frustrated with a conversation, grabbed her around the waist, and did a circle around the room with her, ignoring any woh tried to talk to him. She laughed at him, and he ended up laughing with her. It was only a single round but it was enough to stir up the murmuring all over again.

The abrupt change had successfully signaled a change, however. The groups of people chattering needlessly started to break up into smaller groups, and music began playing. Ling watched as people stopped paying attention to him, concerning themselves with their own conversations.

He took a deep breath and sat down, rubbing his hands over his face. “God, that was becoming insufferable. I receive one shaving set and everyone has jokes and questions.”

“I think it’s more than that, Sire.” Lan Fan stretched. “Are you keeping your appointment?”

“A good emperor always does, right Lan Fan?” He grinned at her.

She squeezed his hand. “Just guard yourself, sire. We don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

He stuck his tongue out. “You’re always so serious. Never want to just have fun.”

“I have all sorts of fun when I’m with you, Sire.”

They both burst into giggles. He stood, brushing at the wrinkles on his top. “I’ve best get going. Ed disappeared quite a few minutes ago. He’ll be worried if I don’t show up soon.”

“Sire?” She tugged on his sleeve. “You do deserve to be happy. Don’t let any of us make you doubt that.”

A lump rose in his throat. “And is that your official opinion, Lan Fan?”

“That is always my opinion, Sire.”

He was still riding the high of knowing he’d be able to rely on Lan Fan, even if he made the selfish decision, even if he allowed his pride to rule just this once, when he made his way to the archway. Ed sat beneath, staring up at the tiny white flowers that dotted overhead.

“They do kind of look like stars, if you cross your eyes a bit.” Ed thumped back, stretching his arms above him.

“You’ll never reach them. They are the stars, after all.” Ling sat down and matched Ed’s pose.

“Do you remember asking to watch the stars with me?”

Ling shook his head. “No, I don’t. But I’d like to get the chance to try for real.”

“Well, that’s all up to you. I could always be your mistress.”

“You wouldn’t, you’re far too moral for that.” Ling hummed. “No, I’m going to call off the engagement. I can’t follow through with it.”

“Is this because of me? Don’t make a decision like that because of me. We just met, after all. What if we like different music or something?”

“Don’t worry. I’d probably have made this decision even if I hadn’t met you.” Probably. Maybe. Ling hoped he would have. “I’ve given up a lot to be Emperor. But I feel like this would be giving up more than I could actually bear.”

“I won’t argue with you.” Ed turned on his side. “I can’t say I wasn’t hoping.”

Ling opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a hand grabbing his arm. Lan Fan was here, and she’d obviously hurried.

“Lord, there’s been a development. We’ve just received word.”

Ling frowned, his brow pulling together. “What is it? Is everything ok?”

Lan Fan looked towards Ed, and then back to him. “Your fiance is heading here, to meet. He cites a misunderstanding as the cause, but I fear he may have learned of,” she made a vague gesture towards Ed. “Your extracurriculars.”

Ed’s face turned red again, a sight that would have usually sent Ling into cheery, warm feelings. But now his stomach felt it was digging its way into the dirt.

He would be meeting his suitor after all.

Ed grabbed his hand, already sitting up. "I shouldn't be here. People are bound to start showing up soon to congratulate you."

Ling didn't let go of Ed's hand as he moved to leave. "Well, you are. Don't even think about leaving me here."

Ed stopped, looking to Ling uncertain. "But--"

"Please."

And so Ed stayed, waiting for Ling as advisors came to tell him he only had two days before the King of Amestris arrived.

#Edling #FMAB #Edward Elric #Ling Yao #Arranged marriage au

12 notes · View notes

atsukashii · 4 years ago

Text

❝chance encounter❞ // k. takami

SYNOPSIS: ➛ bickering with Japans number 2 hero about ice cream flavours in a supermarket wasn’t how you expected to spend your Friday night

» CHARACTER PAIRING: keigo takami/hawks x reader

» WORD COUNT: 2.9K

» GENRE: normal?

» WARNINGS: swearing & fluff and just crack really

« masterlist || ao3 »

You had been craving mint chocolate ice cream literally all day. But then again, craving anything with exceedingly high levels of sugar and crap-loads of chocolate wasn’t anything new recently. In times like these, owning your own bakery was both the best decision you’ve ever made, and a huge mistake. Considering you had been up since three am baking away in the kitchen of your cafe and had snacked on basically one of every sweet thing that came out of the oven and anything you had in the display cabinet, if you kept this up you’d have to get a gym membership. But right now, you wanted mint chocolate ice cream. You look down at your stomach and for a moment, the thought of eating healthily crosses your mind. The thought is, however, instantly pushed out by the idea of you, on your couch, in your pj’s, with a pint of mint chocolate ice-cream, watching TV and de-stressing about the absolutely crappy day you had. That sounds way better.

Walking straight down the candy aisle of the supermarket, you don't even bother glancing at your basket as you toss in chocolates, chips, soft drinks, and any unhealthy food you can physically get your hands on. Out of the corner of your eye, you see an old lady coming towards you with a trolley, who looks up from her list, and eyes your basket with disdain.

Cut me some slack, you want to snap at her, I’m heartbroken and pissed off!

You ignore the dirty look she gives you, and snatch a bottle of Coke off the shelf. You were very much aware that you currently looked like you had been digging through garbage all day. Your clothes - even though you wore an apron - no doubt have flour on them, your hair looks like a rat made its home on your head, and your eyes dry and itchy from crying. You knew you looked like a mess, you have just surpassed the threshold of actually caring about your appearance. Like your ex didn’t care about showing up at your shop with his new thing after dumping me only two weeks ago…

The second your friend and co-owner of the cafe saw him in the store, they kicked him out, wielding the broom like a weapon. You had wished that they smacked him in the face with it, but fearing assault charges - they didn’t. He didn’t leave however, until after he had flaunted his new relationship in your face. You had thankfully moved on past the whole, ‘why’ stage of the breakup, and came to the conclusion it was purely because he was a trash human being. However, to say that it didn’t hurt seeing him holding another girl’s hand and acting like he used to do with you, with someone else - well that would be a lie. It had been two weeks after all, and considering you had been together for two years - it felt as if those 24 months had meant nothing to him.

So now, you wanted to drown your pain in chocolates, and mint chocolate ice cream and no one was going to stand in your way.

You walk over to the freezer section of the store with confidence in your step, suddenly excited to get home and start bingeing the romance section on Netflix. That enthusiasm quickly dies as you reach for the handle of the freezer, your eyes locking onto the empty row where your favorite ice cream flavor always sat. You’re joking… You blinked at the glass as if trying to force the food into being before you.

There. Is. None. Left.

“You’ve got to be kidding me right now,�� you groan. Of all days for there to be a shortage, it had to be today. You look down at your basket of Oreos, pocky’s, soft drink, chips, and everything else you had craved the second you saw it on the shelves. I’d trade it all for ice cream though… Resting your head on the cold glass of the freezer, you let out a groan of frustration. This was just the topping to an already crappy day. It was ironic when people say not to cry over spilled milk - and here you were wanting to cry over ice cream.

“Tough day?” A voice startles you away from the fridge. Following the sound, your head snaps to your left where your eyes immediately meet a golden pair that have your lungs spluttering and frantically, trying to figure out how the heck to breathe. Okay, he’s attractive. Like really attractive. His golden eyes are practically glowing at you with amusement, his hair looking like liquid gold - and super soft. You kinda want to touch it. In washed-out black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a denim jacket stopping the cold from the open freezers, he looks too attractive to be real. But then your eyes lock onto the red wings, peeking from behind his shoulders and you know who he is in an instant. The question though, was why the heck the number two pro hero Hawks was even currently talking to you right now. Realizing you hadn’t answered him yet, and instead, were just checking him out instead for god knows how long, you clear your throat and reply.

“Tough week.” You correct, pulling yourself together before looking down at your basket again, hoping it doesn’t look as pathetic as the rest of you. “And to top it off, there’s none of my favourite ice cream left.” Letting out a groan, you shift on your feet. You don’t know why you just said that maybe you didn’t want the attractive blonde hero to go just yet.

With an over-dramatic wince, Hawks leans his shoulder against the glass, as chilled out as the food inside the freezer. “Ouch, I know that feeling. That’s true betrayal,” he says, his eyes playful. It brings a small smile to your lips, and he takes that as an opportunity to stick out his hand to you. “Keigo Takami,” Hawks introduces himself as if you didn’t know who he was. Maybe he doesn’t think you would know… With a friendly smile and butterflies flying frantically inside your stomach, you shake his hand.

“Y/n Y/l/n. It’s nice to meet you,” you reply, trying not to think about how big his hand is compared to your own. God, was there flour on your hands right now? You prayed you had managed to wash it all off fully and that you didn’t suddenly look as run-down as you thought you did. Quickly -but not too fast to make him think you didn’t want to touch him- you drop the handshake and wipe your hands as inconspicuously as you can, on your jeans.

“Beautiful name,” he glances at the empty ice-cream shelf. “But a girl with questionable choices in ice cream flavours.” You gape at Keigo in utter shock. Oh, he did not just say that.

“You did not just say that.” You repeat out loud.

“I’m afraid so.” He answers, one hand in his pocket the other holding his basket, and a care-free smile covering his lips. “Who likes mint choc anyways?” For a moment you sputter for a response at this blatant ridicule against the best ice-cream flavour to ever exist. You will happily fight anyone on that, including the number two pro hero in Japan.

“Intelligent people, that’s who.” You argue back. “I bet you’re the kind of person whose favourite is vanilla.” His golden eyebrows shoot up at your words.

“What’s wrong with good old fashioned vanilla Y/n?” Your name slips off his tongue like pure honey and it would normally send shivers down your spine. No, you will not look past this obvious disrespect against your ice cream preferences, not even for hot guys. No, you will not.

“It’s the most boring flavour to ever exist.”

“And mint choc isn’t?” He asks like it's a loaded question. Shaking your head at both his uneducated taste buds and this whole conversation, it begins to dawn on you that you’re smiling. When was the last time you smiled a lot recently? You question yourself, trying to wind back through your hazy memories of the past two weeks - and coming up with nothing.

“Mint chocolate is the best. You should tell your taste buds that what the ice-cream they think they enjoy is crappy ice-cream.” and Hawks is grinning at you, it’s a smile that is contagious, and has your own growing bigger with every passing word.

“I’ll be sure to let them know.” God this whole conversation was one of the weirdest you had ever had in your life. And the fact that you had it with a pro hero, and Hawks for that matter...that just made it thirty times more strange. Looking back to the freezer, you decide you still want ice cream and settle for strawberry and cream, which earns a look from hawks as you put it in your basket.

“Shut up,” you defend, fake glaring at the blonde. Holding his hands up feigning innocence, Keigo shrugs at you.

“I didn’t say anything sweet-cheeks.” Your cheeks in question flush hotly at the term, and you quickly fiddle with the handle of your basket, giving you something to do so you don’t stand there looking like a complete idiot at his blatant flirting.

“But if you’re going to question my taste buds, then yours must be just as bad. Because last time I checked, Wagon Wheels were still way better than Oreo's.” His eyes meet yours, delight swirling inside his liquid golden irises and you can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out your lips, shaking your head slightly.

“Okay, you’re definitely crazy.”

“Only a little bit,” Keigo smirks before his smile falls at the contents of your basket. You square your shoulders, knowing that there’s a chance that he might give you shit for its contents like that old lady from before. But the words that do come from his mouth surprise you.

“Was that the last KitKat?” Immediately, you look at the red packaging of the chocolate block inside your basket, and then back to the pro hero who is now gazing at it like it's made of diamonds. Hawks look’s like you imagine you had when you’d grabbed it off the shelf, seeing that it was the last one and deciding that it had to be some sort of sign that things were looking up for you. That was, of course, before you had seen the travesty of the empty mint chocolate shelf of the supermarket freezer.

“I’ll trade you.” Keigo suddenly says, making you eye the man. “I’ll trade you the KitKat for this,” he finishes, reaching into his basket and… pulls out a fucking tub of choc mint ice cream. Are you kidding me??

“You’re joking.” Staring at him, at the sheepish smile across his face, you shake your head.

“Afraid not.” He tilts his head at you. “That is unless you don’t want it…” going to lower the tub back into his basket, a noise comes out of your throat that has him smirking again. Embarrassment flooding your features, you shift slightly and glare at the hero.

“I thought you didn’t like that flavour?” You point out, wanting to know what the hell was going on.

“Oh no I do - it's one of my favourites. I just needed a reason to keep on talking to you,” Keigo admits unashamedly as you feel your cheeks warm again. If I was ever questioning if he was hitting on me…

“Oh,” is all you can manage to get out before your brain begins to catch up with the world again. “Well, in that case, I’ll trade.” Agreeing, you pass him the chocolate block and he gives you the tub of ice cream, your hand brushes him and you try not to act like a crazy person about how attracted to him you are.

“Thank you,” you try to say but it comes out as a slight whisper. His mouth morphs into a cocky smile, which just makes you flush even more.

“No, thank you y/n” he says, shaking the Kit-kat for emphasis in his hand. “They’re the best chocolate to ever exist.”

“Finally we agree on something,” You laugh, finally turning you back on the freezer and begin to walk backward, away from the hero. When he notices you moving from him, with every step away from that you make, he takes one forward, following you through the store.

“No, we agreed on the ice-cream too,” he beams.

“That’s right because really, you were just being an ass and hiding that fact from me.” You sass back, spinning around so you can see where you’re going.

“In order to keep talking to you, it was a sacrifice I was willing to make.” He says, hurrying forward until you are walking side by side down a different aisle, moving slowly towards the checkout. Your footsteps are both slow and leisurely as if neither of you wants to reach the check out just yet. “But it worked, didn’t it? So I’d say it was worth your glare.” You turn that ‘glare’ back on him and raise an eyebrow at his antics.

“You could have said something else you know.”

“Such as?” He asks, genuinely curious. You weren’t an intimidating person, so you weren’t sure as to why a guy such as Hawks would be wary of approaching you. Especially when the reality is that those roles are definitely reversed. Was your resting bitch face that bad?

“You could have said, ‘Hey, I think you’re cute. Can I have your number?” Rolling his eyes at your words, disbelievingly.

“You’re telling me that line would work on someone like you?” Unsure if that was a compliment or not, you stop in the middle of the aisle causing him to stop next to you. You look into his eyes, trying to judge where his mind is but he’s hard to read. The only thing you knew, was that his smile seemed genuine and very amused by you. That was good enough for you.

“Try me.” You test, confidence coming up from who knows where. With raised eyebrows and calling your bluff, Hawks smirks at you.

“Hey y/n, I know we just met but I think you’re really cute. Can I have your number?” He teases.

“Sure.” Keigo blinks at you for a moment, then two - as if he can’t believe the words that came out of your mouth. First, it comes out slowly, then all at once, the corners of his mouth pull up into a dazzling smile, and a deep laugh rumbles from his chest. It’s the smile though, and the happiness that seeps from him that has your head feeling dizzy. A small smile cracks across your face as you begin to rattle off your number. Keigo scrambles for his phone and quickly types it in, not missing a beat for a second. One he slips it back into his back pocket, you move your basket to your other arm and walk away from the hero. Only looking over your shoulder when you’re a few feet away.

“It was nice to meet you Hawks.” Keigo runs a hand through his blonde hair, a delighted chuckle slipping past his lips that has you grinning. He had so underestimated you.

“You’re going to keep me on my toes aren’t you?”

“Oh, you bet bird boy.” You say, turning away from him and walking to the checkout. Today might not be that bad after all, you think as the older lady scans your items and bags them. It’s only then that you realize again that the whole time you had been talking to Keigo, your crappy day had been forgotten and you had actually laughed. The entire thing, he did because he noticed you frazzled and looking down. Your respect for the hero grew, and it took everything in you to not turn around to where you knew he was now standing a few people behind you in the line. Instead, you left the store, the smile not moving from your face. You don’t even make it a few feet from the glass automatic doors of the supermarket before your phone pings, vibrating in your jacket pocket. Reaching inside you look at the new text, immediately knowing who it’s from.

From Unknown: Want to go get dinner with me sometime this week? - the KitKat fiend.

You giggle at the way he ends it, and quickly tap out a response.

As long as it’s not seafood I’m there. You reply, before you turn around, looking through the glass windows and finding his golden hair quickly. In the midst of a conversation with the store clerk, he suddenly reaches for his pocket and grabs his phone with furrowed brows. Suddenly, a beautiful, bright smile that even has the shop lady hesitating with her scanning just to witness it, stretches across his face. Keigo quickly fiddles with his phone before putting it away and turning his attention to the blushing woman behind the counter. Looks like he has that effect on everyone. Your phone vibrates in your hand.

To bird-boy: It's a date.

Who would have thought a small chance encounter with the number two hero where you bicker over ice cream would change your life in such a monumental way.

#hawks fluff #keigo takami #takami keigo #bnha takami keigo #mha hawks #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami fluff #takami keigho fluff #lolsplaysbingo

289 notes · View notes

alexandenigtscreations · 4 years ago

Link

Summary:

Tim Stoker stumbled into the archives, bloody and hurt. Demanding to talk to Jon. Having just escaped the clutches of the circus.

Jon dropped his pen, sitting back in his office chair rubbing itchy eyes. Another day done, another statement recorded. Another step closer to bringing down the circus- the Unknowing-

Hopefully-

He sighed. Sending a silent curse towards Elias and his cryptic messages. Why couldn’t he just give Jon Gertrude’s notes on the Unknowing?. He was tired of feeling like a naughty child being led around by an ear. His eyes prickled again and he stared blankly at the computer screen. It would be best to call it a night.

He began to pack up, tucking papers into a briefcase, pulling on his coat and giving a fond pat to the lucky cat figurine on his bookshelf.

“Here’s to hoping no one’s interested in the Archivist tonight, eay?”

The lucky cat cheerfully waved a paw.

“Right.”

The only thing Jon hated more than coming into the Archives was leaving them. The number of times he’d been snatched bordered on comical, if it hadn’t hurt so much. Time had really gotten away from him today, then again, that wasn’t exactly new. He considered calling a cab. There hadn’t been any statements concerning cabs or cabbies that he knew of. The underground, delivery vans and walking home felt perilous this late, but a cab- Of course, he knew just because a statement wasn’t in the archives, that there weren’t entity tied cabbies; but it provided the illusion of safety all the same

Jon opened the door and came face to face with-

“T-Tim!”

“We need to talk-boss.” he said, sagging against the door jam, teetering forwards in an unbalanced fashion.

Jon hurriedly put a bracing hand on his chest, “E-easy now. What on-”

“Don’t touch me!” he exploded, shoving Jon back, so that he nearly tripped over the spare chair, briefcase and folders sent flying. Then, softer “don’ t-touch-me.” He was shaking now.

It hurt. Course it hurt, but Jon couldn’t help feel that it was deserved. Jon couldn’t remember the last time Tim had willingly sought him out, yet alone used the old nickname of ‘boss’. Every inch of him screamed that something was wrong.

“Right.” he said, holding his hands placatingly in front “I’m not touching you-” something damp and sticky on his fingers caught his attention.

Blood.

There was blood on his hand, Tim’s blood. He was hurt!

“Y-you’re bleeding.”

“It doesn’t matter!” he was shouting again “God, why can’t you just-just Listen! T-The Circus- Christ!” he stopped abruptly, clutching at his front.

Jon froze. “The circus?” breath hitching as the ghost of calliope music echoed through his skull. Hands, hard and plastic, grabbing him, holding him down, while he…he…lord “Tim! What happened-what-”

“Stop with the Questions!” Tim shook with the force of his voice, visibly distressed. Jon snapped his mouth shut in horror. The compulsion- he hadn’t meant too-

“Sorry, sorry Tim- I-I didn’t mean-”

“Shut up.” He was swaying dangerously, the door no longer sufficient in keeping him upright. Resisting the compulsion had taken what little strength he had left.

Tim tipped forwards, swearing, Jon rushed to catch him as his legs caved. Never known as a strong man, Jon nearly buckled under the weight of his assistant. A confused tangle of arms and clothing. This close, the scent of blood was overwhelming. Tim made a pathetic sound, clinging to Jon with surprising force. For his part, Jon willed himself to get the man to a chair. He could do that much. He had too.

It was less than graceful. He jostled the taller man something fierce. What little color there was, fled his face and his eyes started to flutter.

“Tim.” Jon said, carefully holding his head, keeping him steady. “Tim, I need you to breath. Are you with me?” He blinked blearily, until he focused on Jon’s face.

“Unfortunately.”

“Good.” Jon’s eyes drifted down to the dark stain spreading across the hawaiian shirt, the cream flowers shaded red. He slid the coat open wider, finding Tim’s entire front was covered. He started at the buttons, wanting to get a clear picture of what they were dealing with. Tim grabbed his wrist. “We need to stop the bleeding.” Jon explained.

Tim shook his head belligerent. “We need to talk-”

“And we will. Just, let me help- first.”

Tim held him a moment longer before relenting with a surly “Fine.” Jon eased the coat off his shoulders and started at the buttons once more. Each fastening undone revealed more of the goary scape of Tim’s chest. That’s when he caught sight of- Christ- lettors!

There were letters crudely carved into Tim’s flesh. Jon felt sick reading the message.

COME DANCE~

N.O.

Nikola Orsinov had…

“Oh- Tim-” Jon felt a sharp pang lance through him as he stared at the ragged skin. “I-we-” he took a breath, his stomach churning “I’ll be back, we need the first aid kit.” He got as far as the door before turning “Just… stay put.” then took off towards the employee lounge.

Jon braced himself on the sink, feeling as though he was going to be sick. The Circus and-and skin-

“Christ Tim.” he caught sight of the blood streaked cross his hands. He had to wash it off, just had to. He scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed them under hot water. Wanting to wash away the dirt, the grime the-the grease-

It had looked so… bad. He scrubbed, hoping the cuts were not too deep, hoping the muscles would be untouched, hoping that there wouldn’t be any-lasting-damage. The memory of plastic across his skin made him shudder. Stupid of course there would be lasting damage, they’d cut into his skin.

Skin-

Jon shuddered. The Circus was toying with them! And Tim! He was his boss, he was supposed to protect his assistants!

A nasty little voice in his head quirried “Like Sasha?”

More guilt twisted his insides.

This was not alright.

Tim needed looking after- Jon swore, wishing Martin hadn’t left for the day- wondering if it would be okay to call him back. He quickly dismissed the idea in favor of imagining how Martin may treat the wounds. The first aid kit- he needed to start there.

Martin always seemed to know where it was. Now that Jon needed it, it was nowhere to be found. He searched the lower shelves first. No first aid kit. Did find a large bowl and a few flannels. He remembered Martin washing him up with such things and decided they were useful. It wasn’t in the cupboard by the fridge, or the one over the microwave, wasn’t in the tea cabinet either, damn- Martin would already be back with Tim by now, helping-

He glanced at his phone, wondering if he should call him after all. That wouldn’t be fair though. Martin deserved time away from this place. They all did.

At last he found it on the top shelf above the electric kettle. Of course it would be there. The Archival staff were the ones who used it the most these days, Martin wouldn’t have trouble accessing it there.

“Right.” Jon sighed and hopped up on the counter, pulling himself upright with the cabinet frames until he could wriggle the kit out of it’s lofty position. Before he left with his burden, Jon tucked a water bottle under his arm. The Circus consisted of beings of plastic and stuffing, they never thought about the needs of human bodies.

“Didn’t run away then?” Tim quipped, hunched over Jon’s desk.

“And miss your cheery face?” Jon shot back, words lacking any true bite. Jon sighed “Was trying to remember what Martin would do.” he cleared a space on the desk, carefully arranging the items.

“You didn’t call-”

“He’s gone home for today.” Jon said simply, offering the water to Tim who took it gingerly. “Didn’t think it would be fair to call him back.”

Jon repositioned Tim so that they were facing each other and started to dab away at the bloody mess. Tim hissed and twiched under his attention, but remained quiet, for once.

In truth, Jon was much more adept at this sort of care than his assistance would have believed. He just never had patience for his own care. It was all so….tedious and easy to forget. But when it came to other people, Jonathan Sims was perfectly capable of providing treatment. It was just that he lacked Martin’s comforting presence, Sasha’s wit or Tim’s charm. In short, he lacked people skills. He chose to leave such tasks to others.

“So” Jon said, continuing to clean the mess, “You said we needed to talk.” No compulsion this time.

“Yep.”

“Will this talk explain what happened here?”

“Yep”

“Right.” he paused over the discoloration along Tim’s ribs, sure something had been damaged. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“What, no tape recorder? No statement.”

“Do we need a tape recorder for a talk?” In truth, Jon was itching to turn it on, to compel Tim to tell him what happened, take his statement. But the last time he’d turned it on around Tim, things had gotten….difficult. Given the state of the man, Jon decided it could wait.

Tim nodded, eyes closing and Jon resumed his work.

“I- I went back, to where it began.” he was speaking so softly Jon almost couldn’t hear, almost.

“Back where?” A small stroke down, over his ribs sent a shiver through him.

“C-Covent Garden Theater-” he admonished.

“The Royal Opera House?” Jon’s mouth went dry. Martin had sent him the tape, express mail. It was the place Tim’s little brother had been taken by the Circus. Danny.

“One in the same.”

“Thought you said you didn’t expect they’d let you go a second time.”

“Welp, they nearly didn’t, did they?” he was shaking again, “We needed leads. And with you galavanting cross the globe and Martin strung out on Statements, that left the follow up to me, didn’t it?”

“You shouldn’t have gone alone, you could at least of taken Martin, Melonly, Basira even or-”

“Don’t pretend to care.” Tim burst out “You thought I’d murdered someone! Followed me to my home! I can’t believe y- ugh!” he doubled over. The pain giving way to a choked sob.

Jon floundered, wondering what on earth to do. He had to get used to so many different Tims- the cheerful one that gave good hugs and annoying practical jokes, the angry one Jon had pushed into a corner and now, this- this defeated one.

“W-We’re in the same boat, you and me.” he said softly “There’s no one in this p-place to trust. Heh- Maybe t-trust was an illusion all along- Last time I saw Sasha, he was already dead. With something else wearing his skin. Didn’t even notice.”He hiccuped “I was supposed to protect him- they trusted me to protect him. And he’s dead.”

Jon was deeply unsettled by the broken quality to his voice “Tim, who are you talking about?”

“You listen to all the tapes, don’t you. You said as much.”

“Tim-”

“How many people are already dead, with something else wearing their skin.” he seemed to be spiraling, this was why Jon didn’t do this kind of thing! He didn’t know what to do or say in this situation “They wanted to wear you too, didn’t they?”

It was like a punch to the gut. Jon didn’t know what was going to be said next, all he knew was that he didn’t want to hear….or did he?

“They wanted to wear you more than they wanted me- And you know what? It sang to me as it cut me open, put a m-mirror above- made sure I could see the whole show-” Tim was crying now, rocking back and forth. “Sang to me about the archivist- about how it wanted its skin. Your skin.” another sob racked through him “H-h-how c-come- how come it didn’t finish me off? How come it didn’t take me like it did Danny?! Or Sasha! Jesus!”

Jon didn't know what to say. Perhaps there would have been a time before all of this started, back in research- Tim had been diffrent then,they all had been.

The silence stretched on while Jon resumed the treatment.

21 notes · View notes

yamithediaperdork · 4 years ago

Text

Happy birthday LOSER! (Mortal Instruments)

It was Jace's birthday, and the ex hunter was happy and excited as well as nervous. He'd been living with his boyfriend for half a year now, and 2 months ago Alec had found out about Jace's little kink. Jace was a humiliation junkie little, who had some rather fucked up little stories he'd written on his computer and Alec had found them, then with a little bit of snooping around their place had found a pack of teddy bear diapers and a dino print onesie. Alec made it clear he wasn't exactly a fan of the whole fetish, but had made it clear Jace could wear the diapers if he wanted..but Alec wasn't changing his ass and he expected Jace to keep being a adult in the bedroom. Jace had agreed, though it just wasn't the same but today, after a little bit of whining (ok, A LOT of whining done over the past week) he'd gotten Alec to agree to ONE night of baby play, but Alec warned him he might not like what was coming as much as he thought, since Alec would be taking inspiration from Jace's story's. Knowing just how insane his stories could get, Jace was a little worried but seeing the playpen and high chair that Alec rented for the night, he figured he was just being a silly head.

Alec smirked, Jace looked so happy/scared and he wasn't even dressed for the night yet. Part of him was having doubts about what he was planing on doing, but the truth of the matter was Jace wasn't really much of a boyfriend as of late. He was always too busy shooting his seed into his diapers or watching baby shows. Add in what a PAIN it was to get him to do any of the chores around the house despite the fact that Alec was the one paying the rent (their original deal was Alec paid, Jace cleaned) and well the brat was just becoming more and more baby like by the day. Alec was sure on some level, Jace was going to love the surprises he had in store for him, and even if he didn't, tough. it wasn't like widdle baby Jace was gonna be able to find someone else to put up with his shit. with his doubts cleared, Alec came over as Jace finished setting up the playpen and patted the brat's butt, and confirmed a crinkle. "Didn't I tell you to wait till I was ready to put you back in huggies to wear today?" Alec asked. "Oh Uh..well see..there was this evillll witch.. and-" Jace started blushing and squirming. "A evil witch huh? How about there was a horny baby who decided NOT to listen to daddy so he just earned baby food tonight instead of Chinese from golden dragon." Alec said and smirked. "W-what? but..but..That's not-" "Does somebody wanna go to bed without din din?" Alec asked and smirked. "..No daddy." "that's what i thought.. well come on DIAPER BOY.. let's get you dressed like the BIG STUPID BABY you wanna be.." Alec said, oddly having fun as he slipped into mean daddy mode. and judging from the look on Jace's face and the way he was squirming..the birthday baby didn't mind it either. As Alec lead the way to the bedroom, Jace went to suck his thumb, only to be stopped and have a paci popped into his mouth.

Sucking big time on the paci, Jace was torn between being pouty over having to eat baby food while Alec was gonna be eating take out..and thrilled he was going to be eating baby food instead of take out. It was a scene from a lot of his stories and he had a sneaking feeling Alec had been just waiting for any little thing to give him a reason. Alec guided him over to his kitty cat print changing mat which was on the floor and Jace nodded and laid down, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of daddy striping him of his grey sweat pants and white t-shirt, though his eyes flew open when Alec slipped a finger in the leg guard of Jace's diaper. "Just as I thought, soaked. Silly baby, why didn't you tell daddy you were wet?" Alec scolded Jace. Jace, who knew for a fact he was bone dry tried to mumble out a excuse around the paci, but course all that came out was gibberish. "I suppose I can't expect someone who gets his rocks off crapping himself to know when he's wet or dry, I'll just have to check you lots on my own. it's my burden to bear." Alec said in a over the top dramatic fashion sighing. he untapped the dry diaper and then gave anther mock gasp. "Jace! why didn't you put on any baby powder? do you wanna get a icky rash around that joke you call a dick?!?" Alec asked, shaking a finger at Jace who was blushing BIG time now. His less then stellar manhood had been mentioned a few time, but Jace made up for not being able to fuck his boyfriend with his 3 inches rock hard cocklet with having a super skilled mouth and a nice tight hole that milked dick like a pro. Jace hadn't put on any baby powder because he'd been trying to hide the diaper he wasn't suppose to be wearing yet, Alec had a bloodhound sense of smell for baby powder these days. "well if you WANT a diaper rash I'm not going to argue with you. your the birthday boy after all. just don't come bitching t me when you're all itchy from being trapped in poopie diapies with no powder." Alec said running a finger on the stiff and twitching tiny dick. "of course if you WANT baby powder all you have to do is tell daddy..but the second that paci comes out my finger stops. and well, if you cream yourself like the little quick shot loser you are..I'll know you wanna be a dumb baby with diaper rash." Jace mewed and squirmed, the finger felt SO good and part of the deal for today was Jace had to goon for 6 hours yesterday and 4 hours this morning. he buckled his hips and whimpered sucking, nursing on the paci and closing his eyes as he felt his balls tighten and when pew pew. His backed up load firing out and landing on his tummy. "Diaper rash it is." Alec chuckled, and then tugged out a bag of new diapers. jace was still riding the post orgasm bliss, coo'ing as Alec rubbed the cum in as a form of diaper cream and didn't have time to notice these weren't his normal diapers..at least not until Alec had taped him in one of them and he noticed how stupid thick it was! His teddy bear diapers weren't exactly thin, but this damn three was like four of them in one diaper..and Alec was unfolding a second one! the material on the instead was the soft pillowly smoothness Jace was used to either, it was a harder matiral that kinda itched a little. "Butt up little guy..heh..somebody noticing these aren't his little pussy teddy diapies?" Alec asked, getting the second diaper under jace who nodded and whimpered. "These are little brats punishment diapers. guaranteed to help bratty big babies get diapie rash and leave him squirming all night long. you're suppose to use them on big babies who keep removing their diapers, but i think using them on a stupid diaper bitch who'd rather crap himself then get fucked works too." Alec said, and taped the diaper up then kissed his index and middle fingers on his right hand and tapped them on the front of the diaper. "I know you're suppose to be getting a blowjob tonight, but don't be shocked if thats as close as you get loser." Alec chuckled and jace started to get worried he might of created a monster.

The original plan called for a onesie and then a pair of shorts over the diapers, but Jace's diapered ass was just too massive and it had been touch and go to just get the onesie over the thick diapers.the buttons looked ready to pop at any time as was and the big stupid baby couldn't even walk with the massive bulk between his legs. Watching jace crawl around and whine, the paci still in his mouth Alec felt himself getting hard and found himself wondering why he had fought this for so long..though it was safe to assume when jace had pictured Alec getting involved, Alec likely hadn't of been this mean. Taking note of the time, Alec smiled at Jace and leaned down, using a sweet mocking baby talk voice. "Well now mister diaper dumper, does daddies stupid widdle baby wanna get him's nums nums in him now so daddy can eat in peace, or does daddies widdle woser wanna come and play pretend..and be daddies foot rest while he waits for him's supper? if you want num num's crawl over to your high chair, if you wanna have daddies stinky feet on you crawl over by daddies chair." jace wrinkled his nose at the idea of the second choice and started to crawl for the high chair, only for alec to pick him up and turn him around, in the direction of his chair. Jace got a confused look on his face and turned around to head for the high chair again, and again Alec turned him around. "Somebodies not quite getting what the correct answer is, is he?" Alec asked. jace suckled and whined, and pointed at his high chair, he HATED the smell of Alec's feet, and would bitch up a storm when Alec would leave his socks around the apartment. "If I have to smell your shitty diapers later, your huffing on my feet now. now you can sit up like a good boy over there and have my feet on your shoulders..or lay down on your back and get them in your face. If i have to turn you around again, it's face." Alec said. Jace whined and looked ready to cry, but as quickly as he could he scampered over and took a seat by the chair. "good boy~" Alec said coming over and smirking. "oh no, face the tv little man, that way daddy can get his stinky feet right in your dumb little face with ease."

Ok, this wasn't what Jace had wanted at all. Sure he like a kinda mean and evil daddy, but his buns and crotch were already getting sore, his knees were getting scuffed up and now he was gonna have to -UGH- Huff foot stink! Still Alec was giving off a very clear aura of 'don't fuck with me' so baby jace did as he was told, and whined as the stinky smelly sock clad feet of Alec were pressing on either side of his face. "I hope you don't mind, but daddy went for a nice long run today. Oh, i bet you can tell huh buddy?" Alec teased and then rubbed the top of his left foot against Jace's nose. Jace whined and thought about spitting his paci out so he could just breath though his mouth, the funk was strong with Alec's feet but that thought was dashed as Alec spoke up. "bit of a friend heads up baby boy, if that paci comes out daddies gonna assume you wanna suck on his toes." Alec chuckled. jace whined and whimpered, and started to hope the take out would hurry up and get here,even if it meant watching Alec wolf down all the adult food.

The rush of power Alec was feeling as he made the diaper dork suffer was giving him major wood, and he toyed with rubbing one out and coating the back of the babies head with cum, then got a look at the time. 'Shit..even with jace's amazing mouth skills I don't have time to nut.' Alec thought with a frown and took out a bit of his frustration lightly kicking Jace's in the face. The big baby whined A LOT at that but before he could follow up, there was a knock at the door, and Alec took his feet off of Jace. "Well, go get the door silly. don't worry, Daddy pre paid for the din din.But if the delivery boy wants a tip you can suck him off." Alec laughed. Jace whimpered but crawled over, his big fat diaper butt swaying and almost making Alec have a accident as he got to the door and then slowly opened it. "Happy birthday diaper bitch!" came Simon's voice and Jace's Pacifier fell out of his mouth, though it was thankfully clipped to his onesie. "W-What are y-you.." Jace started to ask, but Simon pushed the big baby over and walked past him, carrying dinner for two and Alec got up to greet him, the two MEN kissing while the BABY watched.

After watching his ex and his current boyfriend make out for a little bit, which despite the pain had Jace rubbing the front of his diaper, the big baby finally found his voice. "W-What's..what's going on here?" he asked in a small voice. "oh? isn't it clear little one?" Simon asked, smirking. "Likely not. he IS a big dumb baby after all." Alec laughed, then looked at Jace. "you see baby Jace, when two adults love each other VERY much-" he started. "CUT THE CRAP!" Jace huffed and closed the door, then tried to get to his feet. "How long have you been fucking around on me behind my back!" "oh, we started right about the time I found out my boyfriend who i thought was a MAN, was just a diaper filling loser. One who can't even be arsed to wear undies to bed anymore and just wants diapers all the time. Then i found out that Simon here used to baby you..but he got sick of wiping your shitty ass." Alec said. "We both realized that while your cute, and it IS fun to torment you, neither of us wanted the responsibility's of being a full time single daddy, and honestly, it's nice to have a partner who can fuck you now and then without wearing a strap-on over his huggies." Simon went on. "So really, we decided to have the best of both worlds. and you get to live out your cute wittle fetish. I'm dumping you as a boyfriend, but you can stay here and live with me and Simon as long as you promise to be a good little fucktard diaper cuck. Before you go to get al high and mighty, it's only MY name on the lease for this place, so I can and WILL kick you out the SECOND you try and get uppity. Furthermore your bank account is officially at zero, I let Simon have your bank card yesterday and you never even noticed it was gone." Alec said cheerfully. "so to recap, you have NO money, NO where to go..and we donated al of your adult clothes earlier while you were out having a birthday coffee with what's her name..who knows what a diaper slut you are and was only too happy to get you out of the house for this." Simon finished. "i..but..You.." Jace whimpered, his legs getting weak and giving out on him as he plopped onto his butt, the onesie popping open and tears started to leak down his cheeks. "awww, is the widdle baby gonna cry cuz he fell down and went boom?" Simon asked, coming over and leaning down. "or is it your realizing this is just like all those stories you write, where you or anther boy would find himself trapped in baby land?" Alec asked. jace was full on bawling now and the new daddies laugh and picked him up, and cheeked his tear stained cheek.s "Happy birthday LOSER." they said in unison.

One good long sob later, and Jace was in his high chair (and it actually WAS his.. Simon had paid for it in full using Jace's bank card and there was a no return policy.) they had tugged his onesie off and tied a bib around his neck, white with 'big dumb baby' in multi colored baby blocks on it, and had his arms pinned down by the tray so he couldn't feed himself. Simon was busy setting his and Alec's plates while Alec was dumping 3 jars of baby food into a big bowl, mixing brussel spouts with prunes and broccoli. the mixture didn't smell all that good and Jace had no illusions it was gonna taste any better then it smelled as Alec set the bowl on the tray and then got out a table spoon. "Ready to fill up on fart fuel diaper baby? this is gonna have your tummy cramping alll night, Since i made sure to get baby food that had expired. Don't worry, it's not gonna kill you or make you super sick..just like I said, you have a longggg night ahead of you~" Alec chuckled and scooped up a heaping amount. "I don't suppose I could just get a happy meal instead?" Jace tried, and got his mouth stuffed with the foul tasting muck instead. "I think that answers your question." Alec chuckled. jace just gagged and swallowed.

Alec signed, if there was one thing making feeding Jace the disgusting mush not so fun..it was the fact he had to spell it and put up with the foul smelling burps that were coming out before they were halfway done the bowl.he switched up with Simon so he could start on his food and smirked as Simon let out a belch right back in jace's face. "mmm, Mu Shu Pork..can you taste it on my breath?" Simon teased, knowing it was the babies favorite food. and also knowing Jace would NEVER have it again. "G-Guys come on..this..this is too much..Please..it's my bir-" Jace tried to whine but Simon stuffed his mouth again. "We know what day it is, that's why we waited till today to doom you to permanent baby hood. best birthday present ever, right?" Alec called over, between mouthfuls of noodles. Jace whined and started to sob again, some baby food coming out of his mouth and like a 'good' daddy, Simon scooped it up off his chin and back into his mouth.

with the MEN fed and the BABIES belly cramping and bloated, the little gas machine was plopped in the playpen and then it was set so the daddies could see him, and he could see the daddies, but no tv for widdle diaper dorks. instead, in the cramped playpen he had some soft blocks and a stuffed bear to amuse himself with, and Jace quickly became half bored out of his mind and just stuck seething with rage as he watched Simon and Alec make out on the couch. for the most part they just ignored him, save for when they'd make eye contract and flip him off. Just as Alec had predicted, Cramp's were soon hitting baby Jace's tummy tum and he found himself on his knees, rocking back and forth slightly and rubbing his tummy, belching lots and whining. Simon apparently had enough of said whining and grabbed Jace's paci and popped it in his mouth,and then added a warning as Jace went to spit it out. "if that comes out of your mouth, I'm replacing it with my gym socks, and duct taping your mouth." Jace wasn't sure if Simon would actually follow up on the threat but at this point he didn't wanna push his luck and suckled on the paci, closing his eyes as Simon patted his head. "Awww, there's a good widdle cuck~"

making out with Simon in front of his now EX boyfriend was driving Alec crazy, and he was grinding against his new boyfriend moaning like a bitch in heat. he could feel just how excited Simon was too and was about to suggest that they retire to the bedroom when a loud painful sounding fart, barely muffled by the diapers blasted out of the babies backside and a rotten smell filled the room. "sheesh, way to kill the mood stinker!" Alec teased. jace whined behind his paci and gave a helpless shrug, as if to ask what did they expect, but then closed his eyes as two more atomic farts blasted out of him. "Heh, this is the downside of those punishment diapers.. well fr us i mean. clearly for him the fact their giving him diaper rash and are so massive already suck..but they also do basically NOTHING to block stinky smells so dumb big babies have to suffer they're own stench." Simon said. "Geez no wonder the company that made these went tits up." Alec said, holding his nose and waving at the air. Jace seemed to perk up at that. "Don't get your hopes up stinker..I brought out the last of their stock." Simon teased then went on. "here's a math puzzle for you..If daddy Simon got 20 pallets of these diapers, and there are 30 boxes on each pallet, with each box having 3 packs, and every pack having 12 diapers..how many punishment diapers is baby Jace gonna hafa fill to the brim before he gets his stupid teddy bear diapers back?" Jace's eyes went wide and -adorably- he was doing the math, moving a finger in the air and then a long wet fart came out of him even as a hiss was heard. "if baby Jace thinks it's 21,600 then he's right! your butt and balls are gonna be permanently coated in diaper rash before your even though 100 diapers." Simon laughed. The made even more farts come out of the bloated cramping baby and Alec groaned. "Jace I'm warning you right now, if I have to change a shitty diaper before I get to fuck Simon or he gets to fuck me, I'm locking your sad excuse for a cock up in permanent chastity and you'll NEVER cum again!" Sadly, the threat did nothing to help and Jace's bowels gave way as he filled his diaper to the brim with a hot stinky load.

Having to pause their love making to change the baby understandably left Alec and Simon less then happy on the outside, but on the inside they were thrilled. they would of normally just of left Jace stinky and put him in his new nursery but since they were eager to lock him up and keep him for don't more then leak pre for the rest of his stupid big baby life, they were willing to give him a early bum change. cleaning up the stinker wasn't a picnic but had to be done to ensure the best fit and then as Alec held the crying and hysterical Jace down, Alec started to cast a rune with on hand, fitting a small pink cage on Jace's cock. "No! No please! you can't do this! At least let me cum one last time!" Jace bawled, trying to get free. "It's my fucking cock! Daddies please!" Sadly the babies plea's fell on deaf ears, and with a lock click that made Jace shut up even as tears flowed down his cheeks, Jace realized he was getting everything he ever had begged for..and yet he didn't want it. "Happy Birth LOSER!" Both of his new daddies said together, and kissed his cheeks.

the end

7 notes · View notes

jimlingss · 5 years ago

Text

The Colour of Our Voices [10]

Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 10.5 OR Chapter 11

➜ Words: 4.8k

➜ Genres: 98% Fluff, 2% Angst, Slice of Life, Broadway!AU

➜ Summary: He wasn’t supposed to hear. He wasn't supposed to know. But the instant Jimin came into your life and pulled the curtains back, you couldn't hide backstage anymore. You were no longer merely a phantom of the opera.

➜ Warning: Spoilers to the musical Les Mis.

cr.

You show up in sweats. If you could, you’d take a swig of the rosette right about now. But you’ve long run out and decided not to buy more after the other day’s embarrassing stunt at Jimin’s doorstep. You still cringe when you think about it. So instead, you eat chocolate. You gnaw on the king sized bar like it’s Halloween and you’re indulging in the post-trick-or-treat spirit. Your hair is also unwashed, a spectacular three day record now. It’s itchy at some parts and when you scratch, white fluff comes dusting from your scalp. You haven’t showered in general for a while. There’s no point, really. Not when you don’t have any arrangements, responsibilities, no job to go to. The unemployed life isn’t actually a bad one — as long as you don’t think about the inevitable doom of your bank account and having to go into debt to pay off bills. Your life sort of feels like that picture of that dog that’s sipping on coffee while thinking ‘this is fine’ and the room is on fire. But what can you do? “Is she…” “...yeah…” “....it’s true then?” There are whispers that you’re not unaccustomed to, stares behind your back that you can feel and sense in your peripheral vision. “...the ghost singer…” You turn around to look and the girls immediately seal their lips, looking away. They pretend to be discussing other things, but still, you hear it all around you. “So is she really the Phantom? How is that possible?” “Don’t ask me.” “Do you think she can really sing?” “Probably not. She’s only here because it would bring in publicity. We all know that.” Your efforts are fruitless. They’re right. You’re not going to get a role. You’re only here to satisfy people’s curiosity. “L/N Y/N?” The girl reads off her list. “Is there a L/N Y/N here?” Fuck it. What do you have to lose? You’ve lost it all anyways. “Here!” You raise your hand, voice loud and clear. The murmuring of the girls cease once they confirm that it is you. But you pay them any mind, finishing the chocolate bar in the awkward silence. You chew your mouthful and smear your stained hand on your grey sweatpants, leaving a streak of brown on your thigh. You toss the wrapper in the garbage. “Uh...right this way,” the girl says as she gestures past the curtain. Many auditions take place in closed off rooms, but it’s an open stage this time. A modest size with the pianist tucked in the corner. There are five people sitting before the front row, a panel of them — some producers, directors, writers — you don’t know and you don’t care much for their titles either. It feels like you’re on some TV show, ready for their judgment. Your nose runs with snot and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. “Hi.” “You’re L/N Y/N?” There’s a shuffle of papers, people peering up at you past their glasses. “Yes.” You swallow the last bit of chocolate in your mouth, clearing your throat. You hope your teeth aren’t stained. Well….if they are, it wouldn’t be the biggest deal. “You worked at the Phantom of the Opera production?” You should probably head to the supermarket after this and get some ice-cream. You’d definitely feel better with it, curled on your couch with a warm blanket and some television to drown out the silence of your apartment. “Y/N?” The call of your name has you focusing again. “Pardon?” The woman is dressed cleanly in a blazer with her hair pulled back into a bun like yours. But hers is undoubtedly neater, probably holding a bunch of pins, maybe even hair-sprayed. Yours was bunched up carelessly with a stretched elastic you found on the floor of your closet. “You worked at the Phantom production?” she repeats. You give her a bland answer, but one that’s unfortunately the entire truth. “As an intern.” One of them pipes up, “Can you tell us any details about your previous work at the Phantom production?” “I did coffee runs.” “Umm….” The younger female in the middle gestures with her hand. “Did you do anything else?” “I swept the floor. I did a lot of paperwork and printed things out for the director there,” you list out and shrug. “I don’t know. Things like that.” They exchange looks with one another, probably not expecting such a boring response. “Did you...contribute to the performance in any way?” Your eyes dim. Of course — this is what they wanted to know all along. It’s the reason you’re here in the first place. But they shouldn’t have beaten around the bush. If they asked over the phone, you would’ve told them. They didn’t need to waste their time like this. But unfortunately, the honest truth isn’t as glamorous as they think it is. “The actor couldn’t sing, so I did. Behind the curtain.” “And how did that come about?” someone asks with a frown, and you can see the girls peeking out from the curtain to your left, listening in. “They needed someone,” you deadpan. “I volunteered.” “Well...alright then.” He clears his throat and the others shift uncomfortably in their seats. You wonder what it is that they wanted to hear from you, what kind of gossip they were anticipating. “What are you singing for us today?” “Do you have a preference?” “Uh…” They look at one another and some shake their heads. “No, not really.” You approach the pianist with a sigh. You didn’t prepare, but after countless auditions, you know all the basic audition pieces inside out. Every lyric is embedded into your mind. Pathetically enough. But they’re all the same — they gave you the same outcome of failure. “Do you have any sheet music?” The pianist blinks at you and timidly points to the top of the upright piano. “You can look in the binder.” You flip it open and grab for the first paper-clipped set, passing it to him. “Here.” Then you step up to the middle of the stage again, cueing the pianist with a lifeless hand and the notes start, light and optimistic much to your displeasure. Usually, you’d begin to feel your palms become clammy. But instead, your fingertips are sticky from melted chocolate. “There’s been a change in me.” Your voice draws from your chest hastily without much care. “A kind of moving on.” Typically, your heart would be pumping fast to the point where you could feel it all the way in your throat. Your mouth would go dry. A cold sweat would wash down your body. But you don’t feel any of these things. “Though what I used to be, I still depend upon.” Your knees don’t quake. You don’t need to hide any tremors in your hands. It’s not a real audition after all. This is a joke. And if anything, you feel pissed. No matter where you go, you’re strung along by people for their own entertainment. “For now I realize. That good can come from bad.” It’s supposed to be a touching song sung by Belle in Beauty and the Beast. It’s supposed to be gentle. Hopeful. But every word is filled with your aggression. It’s hostile and indignant. You’re exhausted at being humiliated and you wail out the lyrics in grief. It tears from your throat. If they wanted to hear you sing, they were going to hear alright. “That may not make me wise. But fuck,” you ad lib, “it makes me glad.” “And I—” you belt the note in a kind of bitterness reserved for a resentful villain, and a kind of sadness bleeds into it. It’s not at all like a kind protagonist that’s meant to be a delicate princess. Your voice even warbles against your will, cracks at the top, but you don’t care. You embrace it. “I never thought I’d leave behind my childhood dreams. But I don’t mind.” You look off to the top of the stairs in the small auditorium. You’re reminded of how you once sang on a stage like this, how a brunette boy appeared from thin air and began clapping for you. “For now I love the world I see.” You shut your eyes to savour the memory. “No change of heart, a change in me.” You stop. The piano slows and ends. It goes completely silent. One of the men open their mouth and then closes it. “Um….” You spare them from having to sugar coat it and tell you how awful you are. “Thanks for the opportunity.” You step off the stage, grab your bag, and brush past the crowd of males and females preparing to audition. They all stare at you — but for reasons you’re wrong about. Though you don’t dwell long enough to find that their expressions aren’t of detest. You hop down the stairs and take the emergency exit out. // You don’t know where to begin with your belongings. For one, you’re going to need cardboard boxes bigger than those containing your instant noodles. If you’re going to go home, you need to pack up your furniture somehow. But in the meantime, you haul out your dusty luggage from the back of your closet. You kick the busted wheel to roll it a few meters before hurling it on your bed with a sigh. You’re not sure what clothes to leave behind and which to take with you. The mattress dips underneath your added weight and you look over to the hanging dresses that you never go to wear, blazers and pencil skirts that are unwrinkled and were only pulled out for the occasional audition…. You stand on your feet after a prolonged moment, not yet feeling the urge to dump all the hangers onto your bed and fold up the clothes into neat squares. Instead, you put it off by heading to the kitchen for more ice-cream. But as you grab for a spoon, you pass by that counter. The one with the abandoned ticket pushed to the side. It catches your eye and you’re suspended in your spot, feet rooted to the ground. You almost forgot — it’s tonight. You hold the ticket up to the light. It’s a dark blue with a streak of red, a young girl on it facing the horizon. Les Misérables, a front mezzanine middle row seat. It wouldn’t hurt to do one more thing before you begin packing to go home… Right? // You’re startled when the bell at the top of the door jingles to signal your entrance. “Welcome to the Bloom Room!” A female in a green apron turns around with a bouquet of flowers and shears in the other hand. All around her are fancy floral arrangements, from wreaths to overflowing vases. The fresh scent overwhelms your senses, vibrant hues that render you even more uncertain. “How may I help you?” “Umm..” She smiles softly at you. “What kind of flowers are you looking for? Anything specific at all?” You glance at the surroundings, still unsure. Maybe you should get something that’ll convey how sorry you are, for showing up drunk at his doorstep, for saying all those mean things to him. Something that’ll make amends, to tell him you really miss him, his presence, friendship. You should get something that’ll communicate how thankful you are for him — for always being there even when you pushed him away, for always supporting you, for being your backbone when you needed it. “Just….something nice, please,” you end up telling her with a modest smile. “Certainly.” She leads the way, through the shelves and cases of flowers and bouquets. The florist glances at you, sincere in her gaze. “What’s the special occasion?” “Oh no, there’s not a special occasion.” You shake your head and your hands, and the volume of your voice quiets as you try to explain. “Well, not really. I’m just bringing it with me to a show tonight. Someone I know is performing for the first time on stage.” “How exciting! What’s your relationship with this person?” She stops at a station that has jars filled with single flowers, an array of brown paper and ribbons on the side. “Friends? Family member? Boyfriend or girlfriend?” “Umm…..” You don’t know why it’s taking you so long to think about it. “Friends…?” And you certainly don’t know why there’s a hint of doubt in your voice either. The florist’s pupils flicker up to you, a hint of a knowing smile gracing her features. “How about peonies? They’re very delicate and I think it’ll be perfect to bring with you to a show. Seven of them and some baby’s breath and lilacs.” “That sounds nice.” You nod and she begins to choose them. But you wonder if it’s strange to bring flowers to him. You clear your throat. “Is it…” The woman turns to look at you. “Is it weird to give flowers to a guy?” “Not at all,” she assures you. “Trust me, everyone loves to get flowers.” “Do you…..think I should deliver it or give it to him?” You’re unsure of what protocol is. You’ve never bought flowers for anyone before. “Oh, you should give it to him,” she tells you without a trace of doubt. “That’s just me, but I think it’s much more personal to hand-deliver.” You nod and there’s a moment of quiet before you remember something. It flickers into your mind, a memory hitting you in the face. And your eyes light up. “C-Can I get them in purple?” // The show starts at seven thirty, so you arrive twenty minutes beforehand. Your ticket gets scanned and you shuffle into the auditorium. There are lots of people, a sea of glamour, couples going on dates to musical fanatics eager to watch their favourite theater performance to critics ready to analyze the show. You tug on your little black number that ends at your knees — it’s modest and simple, but one of the many dresses that you never got to wear. But there's not a lot of time to be self-conscious or to second guess yourself. The people are a tide that rushes in, and you’re overwhelmed, pushed forward by their force and unable to escape. The theater is grand, brightly lit with the red curtains pulled down. You find your seat and hug the small bouquet of flowers in your lap. When the show finally begins, the lights dim down completely and it’s glorious. Music begins to play, thundering through the auditorium, and men march onto the stage holding sledgehammers. “Look down, look down. Don't look 'em in the eye.” Your eyes search for Jimin, but he’s not here. If you remember the details of his role correctly, you have a feeling he won’t show up for a while. So you sit back and try to relax and watch. But the anticipation and excitement of seeing him keeps you on alert. Any time there are characters entering the stage, your eyes always scan across. It’s not until an hour later that you finally see the familiar boy at the very corner of the scene, catching the edges of the spotlight. Immediately, a smile tugs into your cheeks. Jimin’s singing with the others, wearing a long brown coat with disoriented hair. He plays the part of a young man from a rich family well. You can practically see the fire in his eyes. “Look down and show some mercy if you can! Look down, look down, upon your fellow man!” The song is similar to an anthem, riling up the crowd for a revolution. “It'll come, it'll come, it'll come... It'll come, it'll come, it'll come…” Jimin doesn’t have a main role, but he’s still on the stage of Broadway, singing with many others. You’re happy to see him, elated that you know the boy that’s actually performing, and you have to hold back from giving a sudden standing ovation. “Before the barricades arise?” The crowd breaks up as the police enter the stage and just like that he disappears again. But ten minutes later, it’s his time to shine again. Jimin’s one of the nine men — the main character, Marius, and the supporting character, Enjolras, taking the limelight, but he’s one of the many students sitting around a table, at a supposed bar. “Red!” one of them sings. The male playing Marius faces the audience. “I feel my soul on fire!” “Black!” “My world if she's not there!” the main actor responds with vigor. “Red!” Jimin belts with others. “The colour of desire!” “Black!” he sings again, and you can pick up his voice between the timbre of others. “The colour of despair!” Jimin sings with the actors and it echoes throughout the theater. While he never sings a line by himself, you can still hear his tone ever so slightly before it melts away. “The dark of ages past! Red — a world about to dawn! Black — the night that ends at last!” His appearance is sweet albeit short. You see him one more time right before the intermission when the cast comes onto the stage and sings for the hope of the future in ‘One Day More’. Afterwards, it’s a fifteen minute break. It’s an hour and a half through the show, but the intermission allows people to relieve themselves at the restrooms or grab a drink at the bar. In your case, you stick around, grasping the bouquet. The brown paper crinkles under your grip and you peer at the curtain as if hoping he’ll run out. Instead, you catch Jimin coming out from the left door as the other people are spilling out of the auditorium. But it’s bad timing. He doesn’t come to where you are, but towards the orchestra section, right by one of the closest rows to the stage. An older woman and man stand, clapping and jumping. He runs into the woman’s arms and squeezes him. It’s his parents, and you smile before turning around to walk away, not wanting to interrupt the intimate moment with your presence. His parents must be proud. You’re happy for him. // The show continues afterwards. Jimin makes a few more cameos here and there without singing any lyrics, simply in the crowd at the barricades. Although, he does say a few lines. “See! The people unite!” — “So what are we going to do with this snake in the grass?” — “You wear an army uniform.” And when Éponine dies, he comforts Marius. “She will not die in vain…” But Jimin does sing one line by himself in the song ‘Drink With Me’. His eyes sweep across the audience floor as he steps forward, pretending to take a swig of the empty beer bottle. “Here’s to pretty girls who went to our heads!” And you swear he looks right at you. As if he had memorized where you would be seated. But Jimin looks away right after, his eyes passing your spot. You release your held breath, realizing it was your imagination. There was no way he could actually see you. The show lasts another forty minutes, filled with the spectacular performances of the leads, their beautiful voices that captivate your attention and everyone else’s. During the finale when the storyline has wrapped up, everyone comes onto the stage again. You see him one last time there. Jimin is singing, smiling wide, looking out at the audience. It could not be a better Broadway debut. You muse that he truly belongs on the stage — there’s no place else he should be. Along with the rest of the audience, you give a standing ovation. The applause roars throughout the auditorium, actors and actresses bowing and waving goodbye. When it dies down, the bright lights come on again. People begin trickling out and you’d leave as well, if not for the bouquet of flowers you’re still holding onto. You look around. “U...Um excuse me…” You stop someone who looks like a worker and they blink at you, confused. You swallow hard and hand over the flowers. “C-Can you give this to Park Jimin? He was an actor in the production.” “Sorry.” The teenager awkwardly points to a family that’s gathering their belongings to show he’s with them and he offers a kind smile. “I don’t work here.” “O-Oh. Sorry.” You bow your head and they say it’s no problem. But you’re still cringing from embarrassment, and now you don’t know what to do, how to give it to him without having to face him. You should’ve thought about this better. But before you can contemplate any solution, you hear a sudden— “Y/N?!” Jimin’s sweaty. Like he sprinted here as fast as he could the second the curtains fell. His parents are nowhere in sight, probably in the lobby, but he's here with you. Still in costume. The nineteenth century french clothing — blue trench coat, puffy white shirt underneath, brown slacks. His hair is riled up with what looks like soot pressed to his cheeks, makeup of some sort that makes him appear even more disoriented and soiled. But he doesn’t care. You don’t either. His chest rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath. The two of you stare at each other, pupils locked into one another’s, holding the other’s attention. Captivated. Then after a beat, the biggest and goofiest grin spreads into his face. It’s enormous, causing his eyes to crinkle into half-moons. “You came! You...actually came!” “Y-Yeah…” You’re stunned and you tear your eyes away, the intensity becoming too much for you to handle. Your arm extends. “These are for you.” “Flowers?!” He breathlessly giggles and takes them. Jimin doesn’t fail to notice that they’re all shades of purple, from lilac to violet. Because of you, purple has become his new favourite colour. “I love them. Thank you!” “C-Congratulations on your debut, Jimin.” He grins, so much that his rosy cheeks look like they’re about to burst. His teeth peek out, eyes crescent moons. “Thank you. I’m glad you could make it.” “S-Same here…..” You don’t know why he’s gazing at you so intently at you. It makes it hard to keep eye contact. “You were really amazing.” “I didn’t have that many lines,” the boy giggles, still giddy and hyperactive. It makes you smile. “But you were still good.” There’s a lot of things you’ve been wanting to tell him, a million versions of an apology that you’ve practiced in the mirror. And now that he’s here and you’re no longer staring at a reflection of yourself, you gather your courage to face your regrets. “You deserve it, Jimin. I’m...sorry for everything that I said. I’m sorry for being resentful towards you. I’m sorry for being jealous. It wasn’t your fault. And all those things I said to you, I didn’t mean it. A-at the time I did, but now I don’t...I don’t know if that makes it any better but...yeah….I just…..you were great, you worked hard, so…” It’s the shittiest apology. Worse than the first one you practiced. But you can’t get it out right. You feel nervous for the first time in Jimin’s presence. A kind of anxiousness that doesn’t make you feel sick. Rather, you feel something else in your stomach — it’s fluttery. Something uncertain brewing there, stirring at its pits. It feels similar in your chest. It isn’t a foreign sensation, but one you had ignored for a long time now. Jimin suddenly laughs, noisy and hearty. It squeaks, a higher pitched giggle. It makes you look at him, eyes hesitantly lifting off the floor. And then you yelp. Jimin picks you up right off the ground, arms locked around your waist. He spins you in a circle, squeezing ticklish laughter out of you. Your hands immediately come to grab his shoulders. The boy is unable to contain the adrenaline pumping through his veins and the overwhelming joy of you being here. “Jimin!” you squeal. He laughs. “God, I’m so happy that you’re here!” “Did you think I’d miss it?” you quip and it feels like forever since you’ve been able to joke around like this. “Not for the world, Park!” He sets you down to your feet again. His swelling smile might just break his face. He nuzzles into you, hair tickling your forehead. Jimin hugs you tight. He’s so happy, you can practically feel it radiate off of his skin. And your chest blooms with pride instead of envy. “Your Broadway debut was amazing. It only gets better from—” “Can I please kiss you?” Your heart stutters. Jimin pulls himself apart from you. The sudden question has you blinking twice. But the temptation for Jimin has gotten too much. If there’s one thing that could make tonight even more perfect, it would be him kissing you… You glance at his plush lips before your pupils flicker back to his eyes. “You don’t need to ask.” Just like that, he roughly tugs you in by the small of your back. The flowers lose a few petals from the harsh motion. But Jimin doesn’t care. He kisses you like he’s been waiting to do it for months now. He kisses you like he wants you. He’s hungry for it and savours your whimper that’s muffled between his soft lips. He’s been wanting to hear your voice like this. Jimin’s half-lidded eyes soak up your pleasured expression before he gives in, shutting them to succumb to your scent. He breathes you in and you become helpless in his arms, the pad of your fingers pressing against the nape of his neck. You’re unsure if you want to part just to gasp for air, or if you want to push him even closer. But your thoughts turn to mush as his hot tongue licks inside your mouth, eager. The pair of you don’t care that other people might be watching, that you’re placed in the middle of the auditorium, that you’ve stolen the spotlight. When the both of you break apart, you stumble back from each other, mouths swollen. You wipe away his saliva that’s made your lips shiny with the back of your hand. The both of you are dazed and embarrassed, catching your breaths, his own cheeks reddened. You divert your eyes from one another. But then infectious giggles spill over. God, you might’ve been in love with Park Jimin for a long time now.

Director Lee sits at his desk with a sigh. He shuffles his papers before sitting back in his swivel chair, unsure. Right at that moment, a blonde, lean man enters with a hot brewing cup of coffee. The assistant sets it on his desk. “Are you sure you should be taking in caffeine this late at night?” “Not like I’ll be able to sleep anyway.” He brings the cup up for a small sip. “I’m still deciding on the main cast.” “Who do you have?” “The casting director narrowed it down to these people.” He lays out the applicants of possible options and sighs. “Now I just have to decide who’s going to be part of this and who’s who. You should’ve been there today, Kim. If you weren’t late, you might be able to help me right now.” “Sorry.” Taehyung sheepishly grins. “My alarm clock didn’t ring.” The director is disgruntled, but still playful. “Same excuse every time, Kim.” Taehyung laughs, but still tries his best to assist. He scans over the applications haphazardly, but then his breath hitches. He turns his body to get a better look and his eyes grow wide, recognizing you. “Oh. What about her?” The director follows to where his assistant is pointing and hums a low note. “Oh. Her. We called her since we heard she was the ghost singer of Phantom.” “Oh yeah.” The blonde nods. “I heard about that.” “I was thinking about tossing her papers.” “Why?” Taehyung looks at his mentor, genuinely curious. “Well, her audition was….” He struggles to find the right words. “Impactful. It was really something. She stood out, that’s for sure.” “Then….?” “I just don’t know if we could find the right place for her.” He shrugs and taps his finger against the armrest of his chair. “She might outperform the other actors and actresses.” Taehyung makes a noncommittal sound at the back of his throat. “I don’t know. But I think she should be considered for a role. That’s just me, but I have a good feeling about her. You said it was impactful, right? Isn’t that what we should be going for?” Director Lee glances at his assistant, but Taehyung simply smiles and waltzes out the room.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jimin fanfic #jimin scenario #jimin fluff #all i'm gonna say is that I was editing this with the dumbest smile on my face #uwu y'all

304 notes · View notes

everythingisgayandnothinghurts · 4 years ago

Note

Anything with Carlos Whump??

This is pretty self indulgent of me to write this. Literally this situation happened to me this week and it was awful. I just indulged in some light whump and what comfort I wanted to have instead of dealing with it alone. It’s a bit boring but I hope someone likes it.

When he looked in the mirror on Monday morning Carlos knew it was going to be a bad day. He had washed his face and brushed his teeth and was just drying off when he noticed the bumps on his neck and cheeks. He was completely covered in hives, but he had no known allergies that he knew of. His skin was already itchy and he desperately wanted to scratch until there was no tomorrow. His eyes were red and watery and he looked a complete mess.

“Woah,” TK said immediately when he stepped into the kitchen. Carlos absently scratched at his cheek and scowled as he got down a mug for some coffee. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I’m allergic to you,” Carlos said sarcastically, irritable that he had a twelve hour shift ahead of him that he was going to be forced to suffer through. “I don’t know what the hell it is, but it sucks.”

“Better stock up on the benadryl,” TK said cheekily as he came closer to look at him. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“I’m not actually allergic to anything,” Carlos said with a sigh as he took a long sip of coffee. Swallowing felt funny and his throat was tight making his situation a tad bit alarming as well as irritating.

“Baby, you’re definitely allergic to something,” TK said with a sympathetic look as he got closer. “Do you have Benadryl? I can go get you some.”

“I have to go to work anyways,” Carlos brought his hand up to scratch at his neck this time, the itch persistent and not improving no matter how hard his nails scratched over the tiny red bumps.

“Do you feel okay? Is your throat tight?” TK’s training was kicking in as he made him sit at the kitchen table. “I don’t think you should go to work like this. If it doesn’t improve with the meds I would call your doctor. Especially since you have no idea what it is.”

“My throat feels a little funny,” Carlos admitted as he tried to stop itching so much. He knew he was just making the situation worse instead of better.

“You aren’t going to work like this, especially with your throat in case this gets worse,” TK instructed him with a kiss to his forehead. “I’m going to get you some meds and maybe a cream to put on those hives. I’ll be back in just a few minutes, alright? Pick out a few movies for us to watch and get comfy on the couch.”

His boyfriend was gone in a matter of moments and as the other side of his neck started to itch even worse Carlos knew he had to admit that work probably wasn’t a good choice today. He could call in a favor with a few people since he had covered them recently enough. They were good about being a team in his precinct.

He sent out the needed messages before stripping out of his uniform and into lounging clothes. The itching was worse and it felt like they were all over his neck by now as well as spreading to his chest. He was trying to stay logical and not let his mind run away with what would happen if this did get worse. He was just having a simple reaction to something and it would be gone with some meds.

“I’m back baby,” TK announced just as Carlos collapsed on the couch, hand jumping to his face this time and wishing a good scratch would make this all go away.

“This sucks,” Carlos said with a small whimper as nothing he seemed to do helped the situation.

“Don’t scratch if you can help it,” TK told him as he took his hand to bring it back to his lap. “I know it’s itchy, but scratching will just make the feeling worse. Take two of these and I’m going to rub some cream on you and it should make it feel better.”

“Thanks for all this,” Carlos said as TK bustled to the kitchen to get him a glass of water for the meds and opened the box of hydrocortisone cream. “I know it’s your day off and you had things to do.”

“Nothing more important than you,” TK told him with a light kiss as he sat down next to him with two pink pills in his hand. “These might make you sleepy, but they should help ease your symptoms. Lean your head back on the couch and I’ll rub some cream on.”

Carlos popped the pills into his mouth and took a long drink of water before leaning back and letting TK take care of him. His boyfriend squeezed out some cream and began to gently rub it into his skin with delicate hands. He felt relief almost immediately and sighed out loud.

“That’s so much better,” Carlos told him with his eyes still closed. He felt another kiss on his forehead as TK grabbed a pillow and placed it on his lap.

“Go ahead and get comfy. We can watch whatever you want.” TK patted the pillow and Carlos laid down with a smile. He chose Brooklyn 99 to watch as he knew he would fall asleep before too long. TK rubbed his back gently with long, even strokes to help him relax even further and before long he could fall into a blissful sleep.

#tarlos #carlos reyes #carlos whump #tk strand #prompt me please #mywriting

51 notes · View notes

glammnaturallyoil · 3 years ago

Text

5 + 1 Things to Look out for when Picking Oils for your Natural Hair

How to pick the right oils for your natural hair

Oils are an essential part of any healthy natural hair regimen. Basically, oils are emollients which act to lock up moisture into your natural hair strands.

Your natural hair tends to coil up into itself and this prevents the much needed moisture from travelling all the way to the entire length of the hair shaft for hydration. What’s more, with natural hair, you might find your cream drying out quicker which is why oils are what you need to seal the deal!

The right oils will act not only to nourish and hydrate your hair, but will also lock in moisture to your strands - it will prevent your hair from drying out and ensure total hydration from the roots to tip.

Now that you know that oils are essential for your natural hair, how do you pick the right ones?

Look for Oils that Absorb Quickly into Your Hair

A lot of bad oils just sit on your hair and weigh it down without actually penetrating your hair to hydrate it. These are the kinds of oils that can easily cause clogging on your scalp because your hair will be unable to breath!

Oils like Jojoba oil are very lightweight oils that are easily absorbed into your hair and scalp for maximum hydration and protection. More importantly, if you have oily hair, Jojoba oil is anti-inflammatory and will easily dissolve sebum without leaving your hair feeling greasy or oily. Jojoba oil is perfect for moisturizing, while soothing and softening at the same time!

This oil is perfect especially when you’re in a hurry and you don’t want to look like you just slathered oil all over your hair in one minute! Genuine organic Coconut, Almond and Olive oils are also absorbed well into the hair.

Look for Oils that gives a Shine that Lasts Long

If you find yourself having to reapply that oil over and over again on your hair then I suggest it is time to ditch it! You should not be oiling your hair everyday because no matter how good it is, it can clog up your pores after a while and lead to an accumulation of dirt.

Of course you can “pamp” it up daily with a little hydration spray (water) or spritz, but not oiling it daily!

You should oil your hair 1 - 2 times per week at most. Coconut oil and Shea butter as well are very good oils that not only penetrate and hydrate your hair, they give it long lasting shine and radiance for up to 3, 4 days without you having to reapply!

Look for Oils that actually Penetrate and Revive your Hair Game

Once again, we just have to go for Sister Coconut! Coconut oil is one of the most consistent and strong oils in the game. It not only gives your hair the much needed shine, it also gives your hair much needed nutrients to revitalize dry or dull hair.

The best way to get the most out of Coconut oil is to use it as a mask with other ingredients like avocado or olive oil and let it sit on your hair for 20 - 30 minutes before washing it off. It is great for revitalizing dry ends as well.

Look for Oils that Protect your Hair

A very good protectant for your hair is Coconut oil when doing heat styling as it protects against the effects of heat styling. As a naturalista, you shouldn’t even resort to heat styling but if you have to, coconut oil is a good protectant.

However, coconut oil can get a bit oily so make sure to use just a few drops to protect your hair and spread evenly. Shea butter also works great as a protectant!

Look for Oils that Repair and Regrow Damaged Hair

Oils are not just meant to add shine to your hair, oils should also repair your hair and regrow it to make it thicker. If you have thinning edges or damaged, broken hair - massaging your scalp with oils will improve blood circulation to those areas and increase hair growth.

Castor oil is what you need for those thinning edges and damaged hair as well. It also relieves scalp itchiness and dryness.

However, Castor oil can be quite heavy on your hair so make sure to apply minimal amounts and spread evenly for maximum effect. Remember, a little goes a long way.

Look for a Multipurpose Oil!

The great thing about oils is that one oil can be used for several purposes, how awesome!

Take Coconut oil for example, it’s a great protectant, sealant and is very good for hydration and adding some radiance to your hair.

Jojoba Oil is a lightweight oil and has anti inflammatory properties which is great for healing your damaged hair or scalp.

Castor Oil helps a lot with thinning edges when you use it to massage your scalp and improve circulation.

Our Hair Growth Oil is a combination of essential oils like lavender oil, rosemary oil and other natural organic ingredients that work to improve your hair growth and hair health in no time!

Try out some of these oils and watch them work wonders on your hair! Remember, you don’t have to try all of them out, you only have to find what works for you and stick to it!

A little goes a long way.

Feel free to leave a comment or get in touch if you need any help with finding the right oils for your natural hair!

#glammednaturallyoils naturaloils naturalhairs naturalgrowth coconutoil castoroil jojobaoil hairgrowth

1 note · View note

yangyeet · 5 years ago

Text

Is This Heaven (pt. 2)

Pairing: Jaemin x Reader (ft. friends!Jisung & Donghyuck)

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Status: Finished. Preview Here! Part 1 Here! Part 3 Here!

Prompt: In a world where people have their soulmate’s name on their body somewhere, you find yourself caught in a dilemma that would result in a whirlwind of events. Are you ready to face this challenge in a world known to be cruel? Will you find your heaven in a place where people refuse to follow their hearts? Or will you fall as a victim to the legend?

Word Count: 3.4K

There was no use. No matter how much you tried, how much you strained your voice, there was no one to hear you. You were alone in your cell - screaming, shouting, shaking - but there wasn’t a soul who could console your cries.

You fought hard against the metal shackles binding your legs, but there was no sign of the chain loosening. Feeling hopeless, you gave up on freeing your feet and chose to focus on your hands. Thankfully, they had only wrapped your hands with an annoying itchy rope. It was a nuisance, but it seemed pretty useless in terms of functionality. Thinking about ways you could free yourself, you tried to rub your hands against each other. That only resulted in small scratches on your wrist.

Suddenly, you remembered the ring on your finger that Jaemin had given you not too long ago. He had instructed for you to use it when you found yourself in a sticky situation. Initially at that time, you weren’t really sure what he had meant and assumed it was his quirky way of presenting you a promise ring. Now, you were more than grateful that he had the hindsight.

Swirling your hand, you flipped the mini ring and revealed a blade that was easily concealed in the metal. You cut through the ropes in a few seconds. Hissing at the slight sting and redness the rope left behind, you massaged your hands to ease the pain. Finally having some freedom in your limbs, you stretched and groaned, remembering how you got into this mess in the first place.

“Baby, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Jaemin.”

It took you a couple of seconds to realize that the boy was speaking to you. You were fixated on the arm wrapped around his waist, splattered with little specks of red. “You’re bleeding,” was all you could muster yourself to let out in response.

“Oh this? It’s nothing,” he dismissed, continuing to smile brightly as if the injury was nothing and the three of you were hanging out leisurely.

Haechan walked in at that moment. “Little?” He was practically seething, but he chose not to burst out in fear of frightening you more than you already were. Jaemin gave him a side glance, signaling him to drop the subject.

There was no doubt that you were curious at the exchange, but you knew when to drop the subject. Instead, you chose to focus on your friend dipping a cloth into alcohol and gesturing for the wounded boy to take his shirt off.

You decided to give a helping hand and set down a dry towel to soak up the small puddles Haechan had made while bringing over the antiseptic. Jaemin threw his shirt to the laundry basket on the other side of the room and earned an offended hey from Haechan.

Although you really didn’t mean to peek at him, you couldn’t help yourself. His body was well defined. Hard, lean muscles decorated his body, showing you that he clearly worked out vigorously in his free time. His chest was shuddering up and down, straining from the pain he was experiencing. There was a small gash in his abdomen, not deep enough to cause alarm, but enough for him to bleed out if you two didn’t help him out. Luckily, there was no apparent internal injury. You unintentionally let out a sigh of relief, not even realizing that you had been holding your breath while ogling at the boy.

“It isn’t polite to stare, you know,” Jaemin joked. “If you take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Okay, Romeo. Hold your breath,” Haechan interrupted, annoyed at the interaction. He took the towel and began wiping delicately at the skin. “(Y/n), bring the bowl over here, can you clean his back? I got another towel?”

You nodded and cautiously walked over to the pink-haired boy who was eyeing you intensely. Grabbing the towel that was lying on the table, you dipped the cloth in the alcohol before wringing out the excess liquid. This was honestly the first time you had tended to an injury like this, but you did know how to clean a wound from your basic first aid classes. You found a small space that was just enough for you to squeeze in and slide behind him. Chuckling at the odd situation, you honestly thought the situation you found yourself in wasn’t too bad.

His back had slight scratches on it, but thankfully, it was nothing like the wound on the other side. However, you realized something strange. Jaemin didn’t have any marks on him. He was wearing shorts in the cold for some odd reason and sneakers, but the rest of his body was bare. You still found nothing - no sign of a soulmate tattoo that would indicate anything. The only thing you could see was a scar on his left shoulder blade. That wasn’t indicative of anything as far as you knew.

Shaking your head at the random thought, you moved back to concentrate on cleaning his back until Jaemin let out a hiss. Immediately thinking that you pressed too hard, you pulled back to apologize. “Oh sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No, it was Haechan. Your hands feel nice princess. Keep rubbing.”

You felt blood rush to your cheeks and slapped him lightly on the back. Haechan, on the other hand, was glaring so hard at Jaemin that his eyes were practically bulging out..

“That scar...how long have you had it?” Haechan asked him suspiciously. Jaemin shuddered before looking down at the carpet.

“Not too long,” he answered. “It’s nothing.”

Haechan ignored his brief answer and proceeded to interrogate him. “How many leads?” He questioned.

“None,” Jaemin replied. “It was smooth.”

You tapped Jaemin’s shoulders and he hummed. “I’m not gonna force you guys to tell me anything. But why?” You had so many questions swirling through your mind at this point, so you just blurted out the first thing that came to your mind. Why was he bleeding? Why couldn’t he, or Haechan and Jisung for that matter, tell you what was going on? Why was he so mysterious? There just weren’t enough ways for you to express what you were thrown into.

The boy looked down for a second before turning back to you. “Do you really want to know?” You nodded in response. He turned back around and looked at Haechan, as if asking for permission. The boy simply shook his head, signaling a no. Jaemin just shrugged and let out a big sigh.

“He says no. I’ll let you know after a couple of dates.” He let out a wink.

“I think not.” The boy who was doing his work chimed in, expertly finishing up with the towel and setting it down as he grabbed the antibiotic cream. “Hit on my friend, and I’ll make sure I’m the last person you see,” he threatened. Haechan was getting defensive at this point and you were frustrated.

“I’m grown enough to make my own decisions,” you snapped back.

“You don’t know him,” he shouted back.

“And you do?”

“Wait, stop it,” Jaemin intervened, looking between the two of you. “Haechan, the gauze.” The boy sighed loudly and proceeded with the final details, pressing down hard on purpose. The boy flinched and you glared at Haechan.

“Fine. If you want to know so bad, Jaemin, why don’t you tell her now? Let her know what she just got involved in? She already helped clean up your mess. Tell her.”

You perked your ears. What mess? Were they finally about to reveal their secret? You were practically itching to know what was going on. Were you being nosy? Yes. Curious? Also yes. Curiosity killed the cat, that was true, but satisfaction would always bring her back.

The injured boy turned to you. “Anything we say stays between us. Alright? Although I trust you, sweetheart...gotta tell you.” You hummed and leaned comfortably next to him as you watched Haechan wrap the gauze.

“So basically, we’re not the good guys you’d expect.”

You nodded at the obvious. “Well, that’s pretty apparent. What do you guys do though?”

“Well...we’re a part of a gang.” He took a deep breath. “Haechannie here...he’s the gun and drug supplier. I’m the sweet face. The guy who talks to everyone and gets those deals, gets the girls at the club, drives over the speed limit on a high speed cop chase. Of course, I'm careful so the last part never happens.”

Glancing at the boy in front of you, you had no doubt that of his position. Charming was practically his middle name and his godlike visuals were his poison. You weren’t surprised at all that he was the face of the operations. You nodded, letting him know that you were listening.

“Jisungie, who’ll forever be our baby by the way-” Jaemin earned a groan from Haechan, “-he’s a hacker who does the cybercrime. Hacks CCTVs, intercepts enemy signals, the cool stuff.”

Your mouth dropped open. “Baby...Jisung? Hacker? What?” Both boys chuckled at your shock.

“So you aren’t surprised I supply illegal materials?” Haechan asked, finding the situation so ironic. His job seemed so much more dangerous than the younger’s.

“No, I just always thought he had the 10 monitors for video games.” It would take time for you to process the latter. Jisung had kept such a huge secret from you regardless of that fact that you went over to his place practically every week. You were skirting on the edge of something much more dangerous than you had expected for a long time and this was exciting. It gave you a rush, knowing the guys who you thought were innocent, were actually a part of something much bigger. It was a change from the mundane lives they’d presented in the public eye.

“Anything else I should know?” You asked.

“Uh, I just got wounded from a busted deal. They hid a mole. Now, I’m here. Didn’t leave a trail though, so it should be okay for a while,” Jaemin responded. “Just don’t know where I should go tonight. My place isn’t safe now.”

“You can’t stay here tonight. They might know you’re here. You have to go somewhere else,” Haechan stated with finality, crossing his arms.

Jaemin huffed and pulled his phone out. A throwaway phone, you noted. “Jisungie has his girl over and Jeno and Injun are having their annual boys date. Can’t crash that. I’m stuck.” He was frustrated, despite his calm demeanor.

You walked up to his sitting form on the sofa, grabbing his attention. “You’re not stuck. My place is open?” Of course, you had an alternative motive to this, but you wouldn’t reveal it that quickly.

Jaemin turned to you, flabbergasted that you would offer. “No, I-I can’t.” He turned to look at Haechan, who looked split.

“As much as I hate you, (Y/n) is the only option right now.” Your mouth almost opened, surprised at how easily he accepted your proposal even though he was adamant about not letting the two of you associate a few moments ago. “I gave her your socials too and she’s friends with Jisung.”

The boy nodded and looked at you for confirmation that you were serious. “I am,” you responded, firmly putting your foot on the ground. You didn’t know if you would regret this decision, but you would be damned if you didn’t try.

Jaemin seemed to like your response and got up, wincing and limping slightly as he walked towards the door. “Let’s leave now then. Haechannie, clean up well! Give my shirt back tomorrow.”

You followed him and hugged Haechan. He gave you a chaste kiss on your forehead and pulled you a little closer. “If he does anything suspicious, ring me.” You nodded at his protectiveness and jogged to the waiting boy.

“Did he give you a warning,” he joked.

“Yeah. He’ll kick your ass if you try something,” you responded nonchalantly. “Also, my house isn’t too far from here. Is it okay if we walk?”

“Well, I clearly have an injury, but we don’t have other options, do we? If we walk in the shadows, it’ll be fine.” The two of you slowly walked under the dim light of the moon, attempting to hide in the shadows of the apartment buildings that loomed above. You felt a hand touch yours and looked down to see Jaemin lacing his fingers with yours. It felt nice. His soft hands provided warmth and reassurance, kind of like a spark. A spark that had been described to you many times in the past, but one that you never thought you’d feel. A soulmate spark. Jaemin was beaming at you, not showing any signs of him reciprocating the feeling. If he hadn’t felt that spark, you would know that fate was playing with you. That wasn’t be a good sign.

It didn’t take long for you both to reach your place and you both safely entered after looking behind you guys several times. You didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary or someone trying to follow you, so you turned the lights on in the living room. “Make yourself at home,” you commented.

“Did you have dinner?” He asked, as if the two of you were friendly roommates. You quirked an eyebrow at his casual behavior.

“Yeah, ramen. You?”

“A knife. For you.” Well that was cheesy. And weird.

“There’s a guest room, Romeo. Sleep there. It’s the first door on the right. Bathroom to the left. If you want to watch TV, I have a Netflix account that I stole from a friend.” He took an interest in your mini house tour and occasionally gazed from the direction your hands would gesture to your face, noting the way that you scrunch your nose whenever you tried to remember where exactly all your rooms were located.

“Cool. Netflix?” He asked, when you were finished with your extensive explanations.

“That’s all you got from what I said? Should I make popcorn?” You laughed before offering the snack. He nodded enthusiastically, jumping on your sofa and grabbing the remote.

“Gotta find a good show,” he responded when he was you judging him for acting childishly. It didn’t take long for you to pop a bag out of the cabinet and insert it into the microwave, giving you a minute to relax. The first thing you noticed was the way that his arms flexed as he melted into the sofa and let out a groan. He looked stressed and on edge, but was acting calm around you. With the lighting in your living room, you could clearly see that he didn’t have a soulmate mark for sure.

“What’s on your mind, princess?” He asked.

You choked at the nickname. “Nothing, baby. It isn’t an everyday thing to find out your friends are part of a gang,” you replied. He hummed.

“Fair enough.” The smell of fresh popcorn permeated through the air and you took out the bag, momentarily forgetting it was hot and burning your hand. “You good?”

“Yeah.” Taking a kitchen towel, you carefully opened the bag this time and poured the contents out into the bowl.

“Smells so good,” he commented. Jaemin took the bowl from your hand and placed it in his lap as you glared at him. Feeling a little salty, you plopped down right next to him and scooped up a handful of popcorn.

Looking at the TV screen, you almost snorted at the cheesy movie he put on. “Really? Dirty Dancing? You really are a Casanova, aren’t you?”

He smiled widely and ruffled your hair. “To be fair, the boys did warn you.” All you could do was roll your eyes in response and face the rolling movie. The plot wasn’t too bad and you found yourself being drawn into the fascinating world. You hadn’t noticed that the bowl of popcorn had moved to the middle, almost empty. Wanting some more popcorn, you absentmindedly moved your hand towards the assumed position of the bowl, but you were met with a warm thigh instead. Widening your eyes, you pulled back immediately.

Jaemin chuckled and reached for your hand, dragging it back to the prior position. “Didn’t know you were that whipped for me. Should’ve just mentioned it.”

You gulped nervously and licked your lips. This was moving way too fast. Time of my life was playing in the background, providing ambient music to your ironic situation. Jaemin gazed from your eyes to your lips and leaned forward and you found yourself closing that gap.

It was the classic kiss that everyone would describe. Soft, plush lips moving against your own, lightly at first in hesitation and then diving in. It felt amazing, as if a part of you had been completed. If you could fly, you probably would’ve soared to the heavens at this point. The hand that wasn’t holding yours came up to tilt your jaw and you felt yourself softening into his touch.

That is, until you realized something. This feeling was the exact feeling that Jisung had described to you years ago. What you were feeling was love. Intense love that could only be associated with a soulmate, which you clearly did not have.

Jaemin pulled back when you stopped kissing him back. “Did I do something wrong, princess?” He asked, backing off and giving you space. His eyes held a fearful look as if he had committed a crime by touching you.

You shook your head. “No, it’s not you. It’s just...d-do you have a mark?”

He looked back down to his scarred arm. “No. No I don’t. I don’t believe in that stuff anyway.” Jaemin was being defensive about something, but you couldn’t discern what.

“But the stories…”

“Who cares? If you like someone, why should you have fate tell you what to do?” His dark brown eyes peered into yours as the credits rolled in the background.

“We’ll get hurt. I don’t want us to end before we even begin,” you commented, getting up and turning on your heel to put the discarded bowl in the sink. “Now, I suggest we get some sleep.”

Awkward tension loomed in the air and Jaemin found himself listening to you, immediately going to the guest bedroom. Silence ensued.

You finished cleaning up and got ready for bed, feeling the weight of the day settling down. It had been a hectic day for you, but you finally found someone to give you some spice in your life. Jaemin didn’t seem ordinary and you were sure life would be a lot more interesting with him around. You had no idea how true that statement would become.

That night, you had the most vivid dream in a while. There was a red string leading you to a person. As you moved closer in the direction of the individual, you could see more details appearing. Pink hair adorned the person who was hunched over, sitting on a pedestal. There was a dragon adorning the beautiful, shining seat that was practically begging for you to approach. You called out to the figure, but he wouldn’t turn around.

Reaching your hand out, you grasped the familiar boy’s shoulder and saw the rope on your hand flickering intermittently. Unexpectedly, a sudden whirl whizzed grazed past your ears and broke the delicate rope, causing you to enter a freefall in the dark. There was the sound of a gunshot. Then you woke up.

You noticed that you were sweating from the intense feeling and saw that you were not falling, but safely wrapped in your bed. In your sleep, you hadn’t noticed that Jaemin creeped into your room and laid beside you, snoring gently. Your bed was big enough that he wasn’t cuddling you, but you were still in shock from your dream.

The innocent boy stirred in his dream and then gasped sharply, sitting upright. He frantically waved his arms before noticing that he was in your bed. “I-sorry, did I wake you up?” His voice was dusted with traces of sleep and panic.

“No. You good?”

“Thought I was falling. Red string…”

Your eyes widened. The two of you had the same dream. As you explained to him about your revelation, he tilted his head back and let out a sad chuckle.

“I didn’t think it’d be like this.”

You looked at him. “Um, fill me in. What do you mean?”

“Do you...do you perhaps know what The Dragon is?”

61 notes · View notes

voldemorthatesnose96 · 4 years ago

Text

EXHALE

My very first crackship (Max and Lola) in skam fr tag and also first time since forever of posting a fanfic under this tag too. Nonetheless, hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer : English isn’t my native language so there’s gonna be grammar error here and there and if any of you think Max or Lola’s characters are a bit ooc, then I apologised in advanced but these all based on my imagination about them

Please be kind if you want to make a critic about it💕💕💕

“I know you’re probably tired of hearing this, but I’m very proud of you and your progress, Lola.” says the therapist. And yes, she’s been getting the same positive words from the people around her regarding to that, but it still makes her smile nonetheless; it feels nice. Truly.

“Merci!”

It’s crazy how this small, gloomy office is becoming one of the most important and prominent thing that ever happened in her life. It used to be a torture, just by thinking about sitting here, facing the same therapist over and over again, pouring her heart out like she wanted to do it and not feeling obligated at all. Crazy how those feelings happened less than a year ago. But it doesn’t mean she never feels like the old times again, it’s just... less and less brutal, if she might adds. The fact that Daphne and her step-dad also going through therapy making her feel less lonely. When she’s too absorbs in her thoughts, her stomach suddenly begins to make a grumbling sound. Loud one too!

The therapist laughs, “ah! want an apple?”

Lola shakes her head, a bit embarrassed. She hasn’t eat anything for breakfast because she was in a hurry to get here. Damn that broken alarm clock!

“No, thank you. I’ll be going with my friend to have some lunch after this.”

“Then, I’ll be sending your report about your progress by e-mail as usual, later tonight?”

“Thank you very much.”

“No no, Lola,” the therapist smiles softly. “Thank you for being here, thank you for helping me helping you.”

After saying goodbye, Lola leaves the office and stops her step to take out her phone. Just before her fingers begin to type, a familiar and gentle voice greets her.

“I’m already here.”

Lola looks up and sees Max making his way to her. His steps aren’t slow, aren’t fast either; they’re perfectly balanced, won’t making you feel left out. Walking besides him, even in silence, brings her a lot of comfort; something she never felt before, not even with her old crush Maya, whom she’s still a good friend with by the way.

“Good. You saved me from wasting my time typing.”

Max gives her a little smile that could make Lola’s heart doing this funny sommersault like in the WWE. How could that happened? How did he do that?

Poker face, Lola. Poker face, she thought to herself while her heart is screaming “lies!” every seconds. Putain!

“Glad I could be your saviour then,” he playfully adds. “Shall we go eat now? I’m starving.”

Remembering the embarrasing incident at the office not long ago, Lola nods and walks beside Max. It feels almost natural to be besides him like this. One of the wonder she can’t grasp why, yet.

“Where and what do you wanna eat?”

“Anything will do,” Lola shrugs. “But better be affordable, though.”

Max takes a glance at the girl beside him when she’s not looking. Her hair is slightly swept by the wind. His nose catches the smell of strawberry and cream altogether.

“I know just the place. Not far from here. Come on!”

The place where Max was talking about located only five blocks from the earlier place. Because it’s lunch time, of course it’s crowded but somehow they manage to find an empty spot outside. Not gonna lie, Lola’s a bit intimidated when she’s looking at the menu.

“I told you to go to the affordable place and this ain’t it, Max!” she hisses while pointing at the book menu.

“Well, it’s affordable for me, though,” he grins, and before Lola can speaks again, he continues, “it’s on me.”

“Pardon?”

“I never give you anything, as long as I remember and now I got the chance. Believe me, it was an impromptu idea.”

“No.”

“No?” Max repeats, brows furrowing.

“No,” Lola shakes her head, also a bit annoyed now. “You don’t need to buy or give me anything. I still have money.”

“I know but it’s just for one meal. I promise. No ulterior motives whatsoever.”

Because her stomach is making a nasty sound again, Lola unwillingly says yes to Max’s offer and without thinking, she orders spagetti marinara with extra cheese on top because he says it’s one of the best dish this restaurant have. They eat in comfortable silence, and as Max has said before, the spagetti is indeed, sublime. Even better than the one Daphne’s usually making—Lola silently apologised to her about this. Less than fifteen minutes later, her plate is already clean.

“Glad you’ve been enjoying the food.”

“You’re right. This is amazing!”

Seeing Lola smiles brightly, especially at him, makes Max’s heart soars. Sometimes Max can’t help but laughing at her dry jokes, looking at her way or stealing some moments just to talk to her for few minutes. The rest of the Lamifex is suspecting about his feeling about Lola, but he never says a word about it. Yes, he wasn’t really liked her at first. Yes, he was being cold towards her. But like most people in the world do, his perspective of her changed almost drastically when both of them shared bits of their life’s journey while waiting for the other Lamifex members to showed up at the usual place many months ago. From his eyes, Lola is actually funny without even trying, brave enough to own her mistakes and apologises for them too, really caring about the people she loves and cares about—sometimes Max wondering to himself if he’s one of those people, if he could ever be one.

“It’s too early to daydreaming, no?”

Max blinks rapidly, “sorry. Too lost in thoughts.”

“What were you thinking, then?”

You, “nothing.”

Lola crosses her arms while leaning back to her seat, “usually when someone says nothing, it’s actually everything.”

“You’re not wrong,” Max replies, as the corner of his lips is going upward. “Let’s go somewhere else, shall we?”

“Where?” Lola’s eyes and voice are in full alert mode now. If he’s taking her to a rather expensive place again, she swears to God! No matter how she’s having a crush him, there’s no doubt that she’ll throw darts if he dares to do it again.

Wait! A crush on him? On Max?! As in the romantic way? Oh putain! No no no! This is bad! Red flags!

But even though her head screaming no, her feet are following Max’s steps to the place none other than the riverbank of Seine.

“My second favorite place in the whole city. Probably the world too.” Max proudly declares as he stares into the calm river.

“You’re usually coming here, then?”

“A lot, yeah,” he nods, sitting besides Lola. Not too close, yet not too far to touch either. “Maybe the only place that I can make myself to think clearly. It’s even more beautiful at night.”

“I know. Sometimes I’m also going here alone, just because.”

The wind is exceptionally strong today. It makes her hair feels like flying all over the place, slapping her face here and there. When Lola tries to shield the hair from the wind, the next thing she knows, Max puts his usual black snapback on her head and brushes few strands of her hair off of her lips and cheeks, then places them behind the ears. This is the very first time they’re making physical contacts like this, and surprisingly, Lola doesn’t mind it.

As if Max is strucks by lightning, he quickly making a distance between Lola and him; a bit farther this time. He also fully realises that it was their very first physical touch and the last thing he wants is for Lola feeling uncomfortable, even just a slightest bit.

“Why do you sit so far this time?”

Max can’t look at her, “no reason.”

“Thank you for the meal.”

Still can’t look at her, “It was nothing, Lola.”

Something utterly familiar catches his nose, but stronger this time and suddenly feels something touches his right shoulder—it’s Lola’s head. For split seconds, Max is too shocked to comprehend the whole situation; wanted to slaps himself, to make sure that this isn’t a cruel dream but it’s not a dream. Pretty much real. As real as the sun in the sky right now and they’re both basking underneath it.

“You don’t mind me doing this, do you?” Lola asks, slowly without tearing her gaze from the Seine.

“Not at all. Stay as long as you need.”

Lola smiles at this, “I might hurting your shoulder for resting my head too long.”

“I don’t mind.” Max gently replies. His hands are itchy to brush Lola’s... just for a second, or less than that. But he can’t. He doesn’t want to ruin this small precious moment between them, have to control his desire or else, she’s gonna pulls back again.

“By the way, metaphorically speaking of course,” Lola starts to speak again after five minutes being quiet. “If I tell you that I have a crush on you, what would you do?”

“Then I’ll metaphorically answer that I’m flattered and honored.”

Lola doesn’t say anything, but somehow her face looks solemn.

“Can I ask something in return?”

“Sure.”

Max isn’t sure if it’s a good idea, but the hell with that. It’s now or never, “if I tell you that I want to hold your hand, even for a minute or so, what would you do?”

There’s a sudden pause between them again, and Max instantly regretting the things that he said. What a stupid buffoon!

When he’s about to apologise, Lola’s voice stops him.

“Metaphorically?”

“Literally.”

Neither of them knowing that both of their hearts are palpitating and doing flips. Stomach begins to churning, a whole zoo inside it too. Though somehow, someway, both are also managed to stay calm; as calm as the water flow in the Seine. Instead of answering, Lola takes Max’s hand and entwining it with hers. So this is how it feels of finding the the perfect puzzle piece in someone.

“Then I’ll literally gonna answer why it took you so long to ask me that.” Lola says as she rests her head again on Max’s shoulder, who’s now also puts his head on top of hers and inhales its pretty scent.

Both are lost in their own thoughts. Is it going to be a new start of their relationship? Maybe not. Is it going to change almost everything between them? Probably. But those questions about time and other endless possibilities aren’t exactly proper right now. There are only them, the chilly autumn weather, Seine as far as the eyes can see, the warmth of their bodies sitting close and uncertainty of life—and sometimes, it’s all that really matters.

#skam france #fanfic

36 notes · View notes