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apartments4rent · 1 year ago

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Apartments For Rent: TEN-YEAR RETROSPECTIVE

Ooooohhhh man, this… This is fucking me way up, big time… I don’t even know where to begin with this… I should definitely be using this free time I have today doing my homework, you know, the thing with a hard deadline? That was technically due yesterday?? Well, how about instead of that, I take a walk down memory lane…

Do you remember the 21st night of September?

Picture this: It’s 2013. It is your sophomore year of high school. You have more friends than you ever have in your life and they are all so wonderful to you (this wouldn’t always be the case and they all wouldn’t stick around but you didn't know that yet). One of you proposes the question: If you were a monster, what would you be? A witch. A vampire. A werewolf. A mermaid. A ghost. A selkie. A dullahan. (You had to look those last two up.) You are so inspired by this that you want to make a story for these ideas to live in. You create a fantasy. Where all your best friends get to live together under one roof. A slice of a life you know you’ll never have. It’s actually the 20th night of September that you created the tumblr blog where most of what comes out of this will live (your first post says “why do i do this to myself”) but it is the 21st night that your creations get their names. Their genders don’t all stay the same but their cores haven’t really changed. “a very dramatic/theatrical witch who loves animals and sass master. a bubbly and happy mermaid who gets really scary when u cross her. a passive, nerdy vampire who isnt so out spoken. a moody selkie who loves to learn and lost her seal skin. a strong beautiful fairy girl who doesnt take shit from no one but is v nice to her friends. a ghost girl from the 1920s who is forgetful and not really confident but really likes her new friends.” You put a disclaimer at the bottom of the post, clarifying that these descriptions shouldn’t be taken as a description of your friends but separate characters entirely. This is also the birth of Marvin, the human man created to navigate this world of chaos, not based on anyone you know in real life. The straight man in this goofball circus. Your Original Character. (Who, you now realize, was designed as the boring main male character in the harem anime.) This was the genesis. And you would never know peace in your life ever since.

And then what happened?

Bro, so much. A lot can happen in 10 years. You develop the characters further. You make a small town for them to live in (even though you’ve never even been to a small town in your life). You make (bad) art. You make sims because you hate the way you draw but you need a physical version of them to exist outside your head, as you see them. You apparently make a rule where no one outside of your little group is supposed to know about these characters (because you “had an experience” and “don’t wanna repeat it”). You make Alternate Universes for these Alternate Universe selves to populate, again and again. (As of right now, your “AU of an AU” list stands at 26 but there are probably more dumb ones not yet counted on the doc you made.) You try to make a one-shot comic collaboration with all your friends but no one seems to agree on how it should go so nothing but a script and panel formatting ends up getting made. (You know that your script was worse with many unnecessary details but you were bad at killing your darlings and stubborn about your ideas being the best. You’ll learn eventually.) You love and appreciate all the things your friends make for this story you start to feel full ownership of. (You haven’t noticed yet how much of a control freak you are.) Their writing and art give you life, especially considering they are doing The Most while you mostly just come up with ideas. The setting goes from apartment building to boarding house and back again before a year has passed. The first anniversary is a blast! You actually wrote something! And drew something you were proud of! Others wrote and drew and it was great. (How would you know it would never be like this again?)

And the years go by and by…

After the first year, you decided you wanted to make a dating sim with these silly characters because you just loved them so much. You shipped the characters (not realizing that your friends did it as a way to express they had crushes on each other, conveniently shipping your self-insert with the only man/only character not based on a friend.) There were still a lot of headcanons being made and posts being shared. But noticeably less and less. Then the second anniversary hit. Not much fanfare. After the second year, more characters started popping up based on more friends you make. Some of the friends that were there in the beginning weren’t anymore and you try not to think about it. After all, these characters aren’t your friends, they are separate and distinct from them. So it’s still OK to play with them, right? (The answer must be yes; ten years later you still do.) Then the third anniversary happens, with 4 posts between them. It was understandable. That was your senior year of high school. Everyone was getting ready to go their separate ways. You were moving clear across the country. Your friend group was getting smaller still and this big shake-up would prove who would stick around to still be a part of this thing and who would remain a memory for you to look back on in ten years. 2017, though, was a big year for the blog. You were unemployed and not yet going to college so you had A LOT of free time on your hands. It was probably the most number of posts you made since the first year of the blog. It was magic. Then you got a job. There have been 16 posts in the last 6 years. 2019 had none. 2020 and 2021 had one each. They were all made by you. There has certainly been less activity on the blog but that doesn’t mean these kids have been lying dormant all this time. You haven’t stopped thinking about them since they first popped up into your head. In 2019, you rewrote the story you had written for one of those anniversaries; the first chronological beat. (You haven’t read it since then; You have no idea if it’s good or not.) In 2020, you attempted to write the actual story (like fr fr) for NaNoWriMo -- you didn’t get very far but it’s the thought that counts? 2021 was a quiet year as far as actual writing goes - as was 2022 - but trust that your brain definitely didn’t forget about them.

The Retro part of the Spective

Alright, enough second-person POV.

Ten years.

Talk about hard pills to swallow (thanks FOB).

I’ve had this “story”, these characters, banging around in my head for ten years and what do I have to show for it? A couple thousand words and a blog full of half-thought ideas? Around this time last year, I was excited about this anniversary. I made a new Twitter for it (before that died) and was planning on actually publishing something to do this story justice… and I chickened out. I convinced myself, once again, that I wasn’t ready. That other things were more important, they took precedence. Do I have even that much to prove I was right? No, I don’t because I really haven’t changed all that much in ten years, if you can believe it. I know, a real shocker. (I still like all the same things I liked back in high school for crying out fucking loud!) I wanted to reach out to the people I used to do this with, to see if they still wanted to be part of it. (I’m sure that wouldn’tve been at all hard, I wonder why I didn’t follow through?) I wanted to have something so I would be able to say, “I did it.” So that maybe, I could finally move on. But that’s the thing, isn’t it… I don’t want to move on. I’m stuck in this arrested development because I refuse to change, to give up any past part of myself. Because if I don’t have that, I don’t know who I am.

So now what? What’s all this for? One big, sad diary entry reflecting on the parts of myself that I already know very well?

Honestly, I don’t know. I was hoping I could come to some sort of conclusion by writing this but as it turns out, it only made me want to cry.

I wanted this to end on a good note.

I spent all day writing this, I can’t end it like this.

So let’s instead talk about all the things that have changed about these goofballs over the years:

Mystic Cove is a city in a Northern California town. It started out in Florida, it almost ended up as a mountain town. I also briefly considered straight up placing it in San Diego because there are some nice, beautiful, old-ass buildings downtown that juxtapose the cold, sleek skyrises in such a way that I thought about writing something about being lonely in a city and finding your own family.

Vast Acres has been an apartment building, a boarding house, Mediterranean Revival, Victorian, Queen Anne, even briefly considered a Bed and Breakfast. All I know is it has to be the place where this family gets together. At one point under the ownership and operation of Marvin’s dad Alejandro, it is now bequeathed to Marvin by a mysterious, freshly dead uncle/great uncle.

Marvin is a wholeass person to me, in that he’s not completely knowable to even me anymore. Marvin is probably the person in Mystic Cove I know the BEST and that like doesn’t mean anything to me. Like yeah, I’ve written pages and pages and answered so many pointless questions about him but… I don’t know how else to describe him other than, “He’s an enigma.” The most significant thing about him that’s changed is I’m considering undeading his mom? Just because I feel like we’ve had enough dead mom media and it’s not something I can speak to truthfully. Briefly considered making her a runaway mom? But we’re still thinking about it. I think her name is Lily?

Mel’s name went from Melinda to Melody because I decided Melinda was a weird name? And Mel likes music so I thought I would be clever. She went from “Marv’s sister” and side character to basically co-lead. Mel was even almost briefly considered as the real main character for a time when I thought to lean into its roots as a product of a high schooler’s imagination and go full YA coming-of-age adventure. It was actually the subject of my 2020 NaNo attempt. I decided against it because I loved Marv too much to push him to “supporting character” and if there’s something about me that’s developed, it’s that I don’t much care for YA books anymore.

Amber is unsurprisingly my favorite because I’m a Leo. I think I finally decided on a backstory for her that I like and she’s not white anymore? Like, not fully anyway lmao. Before she was like, from someplace in England with like Spanish parents so like tan? But now we’ve decided that she’s from colonized Mexico and her father is a white devil. :) I’ll let you figure that one out. Over these ten years, I’ve grappled with the fact that an immortal is almost impossible to understand. I’ve gone back and forth on whether her immortality is on purpose or by accident or a curse or what. Honestly, I’m still thinking about it, I don’t know for sure what I’ll end up picking. Right now though, it is an involuntary immortality with her life being tied to her sister’s (yes, the cat). Details are fuzzy. I’d have to finish the main story first but if I were to make a spin-off, I would make a prequel story about Amber’s life because it is QUITE eventful.

Lucas is a man now lmao. And so is Will. And they r gay. For each other. But that’s been that way from the beginning lol. I think Luc’s story had to do with self-worth and Will… Will didn’t have much going on in my mind. My instinct was to make him a himbo but Will has always been very smart in my head so I don’t think that will work? Dude’s beefy asf and mad respectful so perfect man tbh? No notes.

Jenny’s been my way to try to break down the trope “Born Sexy Yesterday” because that’s just the kinda guy I am. No, but fr I think I was making a very infantilized version of Jenny initially and that’s why I shipped her with Mel in so many AUs?? I’m not against skewing Jenny younger to make that ship viable in canon but I don’t know if that’s the story I want to tell. I don’t think Jenny ever had a goal beyond “Get to the surface” which she gets when she makes her appearance in the story so?? Where do we go from here? Things to think about…

Rohen was fat (like a proper seal should be) before they lost their skin on the beach to some snot-nosed kid and became depressed. When they start healing on their depression journey, they start to gain weight again and it's a good thing. :)

Everyone else I haven’t mentioned yet hasn’t changed much (ie. I haven’t thought about them much). It’s not that I have favorites (even though I just said that I did), it’s just that I basically go down a list whenever I think about these guys, and, due to my short attention span, I never make it all the way down the list. AND honestly, it’s probably for the best because looking back… there were WAAAY too many characters to keep track of ngl… Like it’s a slice-of-life thing, I know. Not every character has to be involved in every storyline but like… At some point, you have to draw a line at, “How many named characters with their own plotlines can I insert into this story?” YKWIM? Especially because at one point there was a whole roster of other people who lived in the apartment building when there were like 20 units. That was (rightly) reduced back down to just the core cast.

You can pry Jonesy from my cold, dead hands, tho. He’s perfect. He can stay.

This post took me literally all day.

I’m tired.

I don’t really expect anyone to read all this but if you are not me and you made it to the bottom, congratulations! You now know me on a much deeper level! :) I hope I can convince myself to buckle down and write, straight up. Maybe NaNo this year? No promises. I’m trying to apply for university this year and living situation issues might take precedence but such is life, right?

Thank you.

I love you all.

For giving me this gift.

Even if you never intended to give it fully to me.

It’s mine now, bitches. >:)

Here’s to 10 years! And many (but hopefully not too many) more…

Cheers. 🥂🍾

❤️

#camacho speaks #happy anniversary

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badwithten · 2 years ago

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good short stories for @papermatisse

ok homie needed help writing short fics so heres a list of some short fics i like and what makes them so good despite their length (this sounds insulting but its difficult to make a story effective and short, so if you're on this list you’ve done a good job at it!)

sweet tooth by @lino-nyangi

ok so what i said about ongoing metaphors, this is sorta in the same boat but its less of a metaphor and more of a theme/how to run along a story? like because it flows through y/ns birthdays and each scene is that and the progression of it, it keeps you engaged. its very clear what the story is about, what the end of the story will be and it makes it so satisfying to read!

a life we spent apart for the death we spent together by @lebrookestore

brooke is an amazing writer and usually does do longer fics machi so check her our fr but this drabble works so well with me bc its a familiar theme that the readers know. being so short, you don’t have the words to world build or create depth with your characters the way you normally would. so picking a concept people are familiar with (in this case soulmate au) it allows the reader to already be invested in your story without having to write a lot. if that makes sense? you can just add your story and your feelings, into an already existing universe and get the point across. very cool

return our lives by @hoshwife

ok sorry to say this again but mads is an amazing writer! legit one of my favourite, if not my favourite, on this app. once again, she does longer fics as well that you should def check out machi. but this story in particular is amazing, reading this again omg, just as good as the first time. i’m not sure how to describe mads writing, as i said above picking a familiar theme allows readers to be invested in the story without a lot of world building/character development but i feel although this story is the opposite. writing about the war which isnt common on this site, very descriptive of the world in the story. mads has just done such a good job at writing something so good but still fitting it into a bit sized fic. this is probably the most “scene of a fic” one on this list i guess? just read you’ll see what i mean lmao anything from mads is so good so yess check it out

crimson by @neo-shitty

horror! if you're able to put a twist or some gory effects in a story it can be really effective at leaving an effect on the reader. this story does this so well! captures you in at the beginning, and then the last part is just done so well, no spoilers but if you do read it omg. i really really love horror stories for this reason. the twist of the horror. it makes a story great and it can be either done in longer fics or shorter ones ( i have so many long horror suggestions machi hmu bro)

dark clouds by @doiefy

sorta the same as horror, but some alternate universes work well in smaller bits. i’ve done something with siren/mermaids where it was just a smaller chunk out what could've been a longer au. allows you to write something in there without a full fic, means you don’t have to work out all the lore of a full universe but its still really fun to write! this fic has done a similar thing to mads where you get to build up a little bit of the universe its set in, just enough for your story to make sense then to focus on what the narrative of your story actaully is. if that makes sense?

my last season called ‘you’ by @zh-lele

i know we already read this story for k-bookclub but it really fits well for the ongoing metaphor point i talked about a little bit. the story is told through sections of the flowers, each feeling is represented by the flowers and what they mean. it’s just a great way to get across the point and meaning of your story

this one doesn’t have a specific fic recommendations but song fics! im a bit bias on this one bc i enjoy writing song fics, but if an artist can fit the narrative of their song into a 3-4 minute song, its sorta the same thing trying to write your story into the same short frame. its really fun like analysing the song, what the meaning is and trying to turn it into a story with the same meaning and effectiveness

this is a lot shorter than i wanted but if anyone has any types on writing shorter fics let me or machi know 🙏

#looking through my fic recs tag its all mads bro #simping

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sanderchu · 2 years ago

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I’ve always had a things for casino au (or las Nevadas) you know how cool that stuff is, I’m young but I play card games with my family and it’s so much fun

I think I’m into that stuff bc of the thrill I watched movies shows and even read books about it and it’s always so entertaining even if it’s not in front you you and you have to visualize it

Anyways Bc im on that topic here are some jobs I think dsmp members would have if they worked/and little hcs, at a casino 🎲 (this doesn’t connect with las Nevadas it’s just an au I designed to my liking and my opinion) also this is just a tired thing so yeah be nice-

Dream 💚(bartender)

I see him as a bartender type of person. It just fits and he can probably do those cool tricks when mixing drinks. Probably also gambles with ppl as they drink just to put some fun in his job. A big show off in general

George 🦋(cleaner)

I see him as that worker that got the job because of someone else, in that case it’s dream. He just walks around really until things close. So he can at least get paid he cleans after hours or during when ppl get to sick from drinking. Hates it but it’s pretty alright. Not the gambling type but will do a slot machine for fun once in a while

Sapnap 🐼(bodyguard)

I see him as Like the “bodyguard” of the place like an extra set of protection on the inside of the place. Likes to see fights and takes videos before breaking them up. His job makes him feel strong. Him and dream play cards after hours for fun.

Karl 🌀(waiter)

One of the waiters of the place. I can see him as a server. He really likes his job because he can slack off here and there then just say it’s because the food was taking to long. Not the gambling type either but him and sapnap play simple card games together on break. (Sometimes since karl isnt the gambling type sapnap Carries a pack of uno around)

Quackity 🐤(manager)

The manager of the place. He’s like the side boss of it all. Always gambling and watching over the place. Last to leave work to make sure of everything. (Charlie stays with him sometimes so he doesn’t have to be alone). Prevents things from happening between workers (mainly tommy and dream and you’ll see why)

Ranboo 👑(waiter)

I see him as another waiter. He just doesn’t give me the gambling vibe. Tommy dragged him to work there so he wouldn’t get bored. He knows how to gamble he just doesn’t want to. Everyone that goes there sees him as a simple nerdy waiter.

Tubbo 🐝(cleaner)

I see him as a cleaner too. Nothing special it just gives him an excuse to get things done on his computer and then clean. Him and George actually make good small talk because of that. They have the most tea on the guest and share it around.

Tommy ♥️(bartender)

I see him as Like a noobie bartender. Dream definitely makes fun of him and always teases him for no reason. Tommy is not bad at Making drinks it’s more of the tricks. Wilbur actually got him to work there with him. Tommy is sorta the gambling type as long as his brother is with him if anything(aka Wilbur helps him cheat)

Wilbur ☕️(card dealer)

One of the biggest cheaters. He host all the card games. If people challenge him he cheats for sure to make them regret it and always have some crazy bet attached. He stays after since I feel like tommy stays after too bc of tubbo to talk and he knows tommy will need a ride home.

Niki 🌸(Slot watcher)

I feel like she watches over the slot machines. She really enjoys her job and finds it really fun. She finds it funny when people loose hundreds on a simple machine. Always motivating people. Jack is like her protector.

Jack 🔴🔵(slot watcher)

Nikis protector basically. Seen more around the bar talking to Tommy(mainly talking shit lol) talks to everyone at least once through out the day. Him and Wilbur gamble in there free time always challenging each other. Brings food for niki and water for her. Basically his whole backpack if filled with essentials for everyone and they can just go to the back and grab anything.

Fundy 🦊 (cleaner)

You gotta admit this place has to be big so ofc we have another cleaner. I see him as a pretty fast cleaner finishing before anyone else. To make it easier for him and everyone I see him making List of what each person should do so they don’t repeat it. Mainly listening to music or just enjoying the background noise of gnf and tubbo gossiping.

Purple 💜 (pool worker)

I see him working for the pool tables. Probably challenging solo players all the time and makes it obvious he’s talking shit and making fun. Enjoys seeing the drunks loose it amuses him a bunch seeing people angry but drunk make it better. Finds his job boring overall and is kinda jealous of quackity. Plays pool after hours alone.

Punz 🤍(bodyguard)

I can see him and sapnap teaming up to be the inside bodyguards. More like an aggressive bodyguard. He’s mainly around dream who makes him little shots so he doesn’t get to wasted during the job but enough to just give him a boost.

Techno 🐷 (Card dealer)

With Wilbur, there both card dealers. Techno scams people of there money as Wilbur cheats. Techno is Seen around the card area or talking to Tommy. Tommy makes him drinks here and there. Always talking shit to people when they loose. Very quiet just enjoying his job but he doesn’t admit that. Ever.

Foolish 🦈 (back up)

I See foolish to be used for more like events or like parties. He mainly makes sure every item is in tack and counts the money and stuff. His job is pretty easy and has his own office where he can work and do papers. Very chill job for a very chill guy.

Charlie/Slime 🟢(assistant)

I see him as Like the boss and the managers assistant. He’s pretty clueless so that’s the best job for him. Quackity just walks around and talks to him as Charlie takes down notes when he never needs to. Always asking questions like he’s new no matter how long he’s been working there. Quackity enjoys his company and help, it helps him relax after a long day just talking to someone so innocent and sweet after dealing with assholes.

Phil/mumza 💚💜

The owners. You can’t change my mind on this and there sons are like their watcher reposting back to them after a long day. That’s why each work at least in almost every section. Mumza is Seen around when Phil is in the office. Mumza is More used to welcome people and give people there money after winning. Always so happy doing her job. Phil is her protector Making sure no one takes advantage of that. The parents of the casino

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This is definitely not my way of asking for casino au request- (50/50, I’m just sayingggg) please give me request of casino au- I will marry u-

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quirklessidiot · 4 years ago

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title : cigarettes and parfaits [3] pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, slice of life, josei, angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right?

Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT) i keep forgeting to add that this isnt beta-rread..all of my stories arent so yeah shshs Notes: ah, i feel like this story will be lengthen more than 8-10 chapters shshshs i wanted to add a little spice anyways thanks for all the comments uwu ily all!

Masterlist || taglist || [prev ; next] [updates; every saturday!]

“Y/N-chan!!!”

You cringe in embarrassment as soon as you hear that awfully familiar and cheerful voice, you could barely remember this man and the events that transpired the night before but here he was, acting like your new best friend. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to go here but you needed clarity. Surely you didn’t just legally marry a man at an Izakaya out of all places last night?

“Oh, you actually did marry him.” Gojo Satoru proclaims as soon as you take a seat across him, he gestures around his face, “I could tell by your whole, ‘I hope this guy is messing with me’ face. You have it, signed and sealed. Even got the cute matchy rings that I had one of my assistants delivered.”

You pale at the thought of his assistant coming in with a silver ring. Wasn’t he sober? How could he not have stopped you two from doing something as reckless and stupid as this? Weren’t older men supposed to be more responsible than this?

“Why the hell didn’t you stop us?” You groaned, burying your face in your hands, embarrassment painted all over your features.

“I was just as drunk as you two.” He confessed, scratching his head, “probably even more drunk but anyways back to the topic in hand, I only remembered it when the same assistant came in and congratulated me about it. It’s good I had your number on my phone before you two bailed.”

“So you don’t really remember?”

“Bits and pieces.” Gojo grinned, this guy was a maniac, how did the serious man you met just this morning have friends like this? You probably wouldn’t even last long, “I did call Nanami-”

He’s cut off by the rough sound of someone pulling a chair out, you immediately jump on your seat when you realize it’s Nanami Kento, the guy from this morning. The man you had recklessly married!

“This better be some prank you’re pulling, Satoru.” His voice was anything but kind that you almost wanted to hide behind Gojo’s back.

“Hey, hey.” Gojo raises his hands, “Don’t look at me. I didn’t force you into anything and stop scaring your poor little partner.”

Nanami snaps his gaze towards you and you notice how his eyes soften just a bit when he sees your red ears and your eyes looking away from him, “You better call Geto and fucking fix this, I refuse to bother this young-”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off, still shy and red, “It’s...fine...I just…Please don’t think I’m burdened by it. It was technically my fault for even agreeing immediately.”

Nanami clenches his jaw and turns away, “Nevertheless. L/N-san’s young. I hope to not be such an uncouth man like you.” he retorts, voice sharp as he eyes the white-haired businessman up and down. Gojo, seemingly used to it, rolls his eyes behind his dark shades.

“Maybe you guys should try it out.”

The blonde man looks like he’s about to smite the white-haired man out of existence yet Satoru remains oblivious to his friend’s gaze, “Don’t ya think so? It will take a while for those divorce papers to settle in so why don’t you two go out and get to know each other? Who knows…” he sing-songs the last part and Nanami is so close to chunking his briefcase towards the tall businessman, not even caring

“Ah, he’s not exactly wrong, Nanami-san.” you try to calm him down, placing a small hand on his broad shoulder.

“Don’t tell me you’re actually listening to this idiot’s idea.” Nanami replied, gaze narrowing.

“Not really but you have some problems I can help you out on and I have problems that you can help me out on...Of course, the last say is on you...”

“Told you I actually had a brain.” Satoru piped in.

“Shut up, Satoru.” he quips, then turns to you, “I’m thirteen years older than you, L/N-san. I have two high school kids that could pass off as your siblings, and-”

“Well, I technically did marry you.”

“You were drunk.”

“Doesn’t exactly really excuse it.” You laugh nervously, “The whole divorce process usually lasts up to a few months, some even takes a whole year. I could help you out with the boys and I can use you to ward my family off from moving back home.”

Nanami is quiet for a moment, actually thinking about it. Weighing the pros and the cons, not only would you be able to help him out but you’d also be able to get Gojo and blind-dating out of his back.

There really wasn’t anything he could loose, really.

“Or you two might fall in love.” Satoru teases, making Nanami throw him another side-eye, as if saying ‘I dare you to say another word.’

It’s a Thursday today and Sukuna absolutely loathed Thursdays apparently because it reminded him of Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. They all were far from the weekend Everyone seems to be happier than usual though. Maybe it was because you were there teaching some basic shit at the board or something.

“...and if we transfer this here and change the positive to a negative, you’ll end up having five as your answer.” You smile, placing your chalk down, “Does anyone have any questions?”

Echoes of no’s resonated throughout the room.

“Alright then, let’s end the lesson here so you guys can have an early lunch. I don’t think an assignment is in order since many of you were able to get a perfect score in the activity awhile ago.” You winked. A couple of whoops resonated throughout the whole class right after.

As the kids shuffle out of the room of the class, Sukuna remains behind. The ojisan had cooked them something delicious this morning and he wanted to eat it in peace without that pesky Nobara grabbing a share from his bento and Yuuji’s annoying babbles about horror movies with his best friend Junpei (the only one who was really bearable was Megumi, really)

“Sukuna-kun?” you called out, snapping him out of his small trance, “Are you alright?”

He notices a glint of worry in your eyes, he had to admit since his transfer here last Monday, you were the least annoying teacher in the academy the blue-haired professor in Japanese literature was absolute shit since he loved to tease him a lot and that bald-headed teacher in science who looked a lot like Mike Wazowski was an annoying twerp who loved dawdling in him and Yuuji’s business and you were kind of good at your job. Not only did his idiot of a brother stop coming to him and their ojisan for help in math but he could actually do the worksheets right and get an actual decent grade at it.

“Yeah.” he roughly replies.

“That’s good.” You smiled, he watched as you bind their worksheets together and clip them in utmost delicacy, “You should head to the cafeteria now, I heard they’re serving milk bread today.”

Without saying anything more, you left the room, leaving him there in the silence.

Well, the Christmas tree idiot was right.

You kind of had a motherly aura on you and it didn’t even look forced.

No wonder, everyone in this room was whipped for you despite your subject being a pain in the ass.

“You look like an idiot.” You mumbled as you slapped Mahito’s hand away in annoyance, your workmate wiggling his eyebrows like the little shit he is.

You completely forgot you did have someone like Gojo Satoru in your life and it was one of your co-workers, Mahito, a Japanese literature teacher who was too nosy for his own good.

“You’ve got a ring on your ring finger and a mailman comes in and gives you an invite for Zen’in Toji’s fortieth birthday.” he whistles, “Even Jogo-sensei gossiped by the water cooler awhile ago, saying that you had eloped with the man. Not that I’m judging you or anything...”

You choke on your saliva, clearly thrown off by the backhanded comment. That darn bald-headed fool that looked like the green eyed monster from the DreamWorks cartoon, he sure needed to lay off the gossip and actually focus on his job as the head of the science department, “You’re not denying it.” Mahito stated, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, “Why aren’t you denying it?”

“I’m not dating Megumi-kun’s father.” You grumbled, finishing up your paperwork, “That man is off limits.”

“Right,” he drawls on sarcastically, “...because you have a strict rule against dating hot older men with money.”

“I also teach his kids and his cousin…” You deadpan.

“We don’t even have a rule against that.” He retorts, rolling his eyes, “If we did, Hanami-sensei would’ve been fired a long time ago.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you’re so secretive. If it isn’t Toji Zen’in, who’d ask you out?”

“Hey, I do have a man.” You huffed, “and he’s very kind and considerate...”

The image of the tall and lean man sleeping next to you slowly wormed its way back from your memory and you feel your cheeks start to flush. Good god, what were you? twelve? How embarrassing.

You needed to get that image off of your head, it wasn’t right.

It was all temporary, anyways and he doesn’t even see you in that sort of way-

“Yes, I’m Sukuna and Yuuji Itadori’s guardian…” a very familiar stoic voice could be heard from the nearby table, cutting your thoughts short. Wait, were you so head over heels for the man that you started imagining him here? Yuuji and Sukuna’s guardian? Wait a minute.

All color drained from your face as you snap your head behind you to find the same man you were imagining.

Oh no.

Oh no, indeed.

There stood Nanami Kento in all his glory; crisp suit, stoic face, and eyes laced with mild worry.

“...L/N-sensei is Sukuna-kun’s adviser, by the way. It would be best to discuss this with them.” Akari somberly informed the man, turning to your direction. You don’t miss the shift of expressions when he sees you standing there.

Your mouth parts and you know you look like gawking fish trapped in a small aquarium.

“Akari-sensei’s looking at you with the new hot daddy.” Mahito mumbles next to you, eyeing him up and down, “Definitely wonder where all these old men come from these days.”

You were only half-listening to your co-worker because your head was all over the place, just what were the odds that he was the guardian of the new transferee’s? Just how awkward would everything be? Why did it even have to be at this school out of all places?

Never ending questions pop out of your head as you approached them, “Good afternoon, Nanami-san.” Your smile comes out very stiff and awkward while you hold your hand out for him to shake, clearly there was no memo on how you were suppose to act around your sort-of-fake-husband-whos-kids-you-actually-taught.

Nanami reverts back to his stoic expression as he clears his throat, “Yes, good afternoon to you too, L/N-sensei.” he greets, maintaining a straight-laced tone.

“Akari-sensei says that Sukuna has been quite...rude...in class…” you try to rack your brains up to describe his kid.

“Your son literally pointed out that the history lesson I was teaching was fake and that I should study again so he could get his tuition’s worth.” Akari looks clearly perplexed and ready to throttle the boy if it was legal. You had to admit, Sukuna went overboard with that insult.

You knew how passionate Nitta was about her job and what Sukuna just said to her was like a big ‘fuck you, you suck.’ to her.

“I’ll be sure to talk to him about this,” he sighs, bowing down, “I’d like to ask for forgiveness for that, the boy is a good and smart student-”

“Nanami-san, the school not only cares about grades but character as well.” Akari Nitta sighed, cutting him off, “I’ll let this slide once, if he does that again, it goes on the record.”

You internally bit your cheek, still trying to process everything that was going on.

“I understand. Thank you for that.”

“I’ll walk him out, sensei.” You immediately say soon after, wanting to have some alone time with him, “Let’s go, Nanami-san.”

You walk right next to him silently, some students peerlessly glancing at the tall blonde next to you but you were too immersed in thought to notice the stares, “Nanami-san?” you ask softly as soon as you reach the exit.

Nanami Kento looks at you, his eyes still laced with a bit of worry, “It’s okay.” you silently comforted him, “Just talk to him calmly.”

“That’s not the problem.” he sighed, “I just didn’t expect that the person I married would be the boy’s teacher.”

You sweat drop, “Aren’t you worried about talking to Sukuna? I mean, he literally just disrespected a teacher and you said that he and you weren’t in good-”

“It’s easier to talk to him about that rather than…” he paused, showing his ring, “this.”

You blinked.

Seemed like Nanami knew what to say about the little attitude problem his son had, “So you must be used to this?” you asked, “Him disrespecting the teacher?”

You notice the shift of expressions on his face, you had only known this man for a few days so far but he was starting to get easier to read. His eyes shed more emotion than his face, no wonder he likes wearing those funny sunglasses a lot.

“It’s something I’ve scolded him over a couple of times,” he gruffed, trying to dance around the subject, it seemed like he had such a soft spot to the point where he had a problem with disciplining them, “At times I believe it’s just because he’s way too smart for his age. The boy has read history books for fun when he was a kid and solved quadratic equations to prove that he’s better than me when he was ten.”

“It still doesn’t give him the free pass to say things like that to a teacher”

“I know,” he acknowledged, “I’ll be sure to give him a better scolding-”

“No, you see. This is why he thinks he can get away with it. He isn’t afraid of you. You’ll only probably tell him that you can’t do that.” you frown, crossing your arms, “You do know that not all sensei’s are as nice as Akari-sensei and he could get in trouble for that even more in the future, right?”

Silence lingered between you two for a moment and suddenly you realize that you must’ve said something way off the rails.

“I..” you turn red, embarrassed by the sudden outburst, “That was too much, wasn’t it?”

You look at him directly in the eye, the worry-filled ones are now replaced with a softer gaze. God, he really needed to stop looking at you like a kid. It would only make this set-up more awkward!

“No,” he mumbles, “It...It wasn't too much…”

“Oh.” you cleared your throat, flustered and looking away from his face, “Well, okay then goodbye then Nanami-sa-”

You needed to get out of this conversation quick.

“Kento.”

Your gaze snaps directly towards him, clearly taken aback by the correction.

“What?”

“We’re technically married now, right?” he softly corrected, “Call me Kento.”

“Oh,” You uttered again, this time softly. You looked down on your shoes, it seemed like the floor looked really interesting now, “Then bye-bye, Kento.”

“Bye Y/N.”

He leaves you standing there, cursing yourself because of your erratic heartbeat at the way he says your name in that voice. First name basis? okay, totally normal for sort-of lovers, right?

taglist [if crossed out, i can’t tag u ; - ;]

; @coldbookworm ; @frankenstein852 ; @neavil ; @shephard17895 @kristineyoshaii ; @airybnb ; @okachansenpai ; @amortentiaxo ; @rinvtaro ; @franko-pop ; @kozutenshi ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant ; @bleepop ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant ; @pettybroccoli ; @nixxona ; @kiyoo-omi ; @omibaby ; @bokkunto ; @peccobagnaia ; @sangwoahbigbussy ;

@Kurok1717 ; @hcn421 ; @shinhiromi ; @airybnb ; @katshuya ; @atsuhaya

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #cigarettes and parfaits

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bridgyrose · 3 years ago

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(my last one was a bit confusing so heres another shot) college au; team rwby all go to the same college, ruby has a commutation disorder and doesn't speak. her team all being childhood friends are basically the only people who understand her. They meet JNPR and all became friends, but little red is still too shy to say a word, especially to the other teams red head, Pyrrha. (a little pyrruby with shy Ruby)

“I promise, everything will be fine!” Yang grinned as she started walking down the hall of the dormitory, looking at a map to find her room. “You’re worried over nothing, Rubes.”

Ruby sighed and started signing as fast as her fingers would let her. As much as she knew everything would be fine, she still couldnt help but be nervous about everything. Sure, she graduated highschool a couple years early, but that still didnt make up for the fact that she was tormented for not being able to speak. And even then, her signing was more or less just a series of gestures that Yang, Blake, and Weiss helped her come up with to communicate.

Yang sighed and took hold of Ruby’s wrists, stopping her for a moment. “I know you have a lot to be nervous about, but you still have me and our friends to help you out. Besides, you and Weiss are sharing a dorm, so you’ll have her with you out with your other two roommates. You’re not going to be alone in this.”

Ruby pulled her hands away from Yang, looking away and making a couple quick gestures before glancing towards a few other students down the hall.

��Tell you what, we can get to your dorm first, help you and Weiss set up, and then find the library, alright?”

Ruby thought about it for a moment, nodding in agreement.

“Good, because if I’m looking at the map right, my room is right here- “Yang pointed to the door to her left, walking down the hall a bit further. “-and your room should be right… here.”

Ruby walked up to the door that Yang stopped at, room 307. She slowly put her keys in to unlock the door, pausing when she heard Weiss’s voice, and three others she didnt recognize arguing. Ruby slowly opened the door, pausing as she watched Weiss argue with three other students: a blonde, a tall redhead, and a girl with orange hair.

“You’ve got the wrong room! There’s no way that they’d let a boy stay here!”

The blonde sighed as he showed Weiss the paper with his room number. “I dont like it any more than you do, but it says Building 3 room 307. Just like yours, Pyrrha’s, and Nora’s.”

“This is unacceptable!” Weiss huffed and took the paper from the boy. “I’m going to go talk to the dorm admissions-”

“We already tried, and as far as they care, Jaune here is a girl,” piped up the shorter girl. “Doesnt matter that he’s been transitioning, all of the documents they care about still see him as a she. But, it wont be that bad.”

Weiss rolled her eyes and shoved the paper to Jaune’s chest before walking off. “Then I’m going to make sure that I can get as much privacy as I can.” She paused at the door, smiling a bit when she saw Yang and Ruby. “Yang! Ruby! You both made it!”

“Of course we would, snowflake.” Yang pulled Weiss into a hug, holding her tightly. “And I can see you’re already getting into fights.”

Weiss sighed and pulled away. “Seems like there’s five of us living in this dorm. Ruby, I want you to mee Pyrrha, Nora, and… Jaune.”

Ruby nervously looked over to the other three, pausing for a moment as she waved. Jaune, the blonde, was the taller of the bunch, and definitely out of place for a girl’s dorm. Although, after listening to the… discussion… between him, Weiss, and the shorter girl, it didnt seem like there was much that could be done. Either way, he seemed nice enough, a bit timid himself, but not anyone to be worried about.

Then there was Nora. She was the shortest of the bunch, sporting short orange hair, and not exactly looking thrilled about living with Weiss for the remainder of the school year. She gave a friendly smile as she waved back at Ruby. “Sorry about all the yelling, but somebody-” Nora glared at Weiss “-had to make a big deal out of a misunderstanding.”

“Now, now, I’m sure she had her own reasons.” Pyrrha, the redhead, finally spoke up, giving her own soft, yet nervous, smile. “I’m sure we can all get along just fine together without too much trouble.”

Weiss rolled her eyes and started heading down the hall .”Well, I’m going to try again to get Jaune out of here. Boys do not belong in the girls’ dorm!”

“She gets a bit easier to deal with once you get used to her.” Yang walked into the room, extending a hand out to the three others. “I’m Yang by the way. And this is my sister, Ruby. She’s your other roommate.”

Ruby stayed at the door, feeling a bit more nervous as she shakily moved her hands to make a few gestures, trying to make them recognizable to the clothes to try to say hi.

“Isnt she a bit… young to be here?” asked Nora, looking over Ruby curiously.

“Didnt you get called a child earlier, Nora?” teased Jaune.

Nora paused for a moment and sighed. “Only because I’m on the short side….”

“Then you probably shouldnt judge Ruby.” Pyrrha started heading to one of the beds, moving her bags onto one. “And we should all start getting the room set up.”

“Way ahead of you.” Jaune went to his own bags, opening one and pulling out a few rods and a couple curtains. “Although, I think at some point I’m going to need to get a few more privacy curtains to keep from feeling Weiss’s wrath.”

Ruby stood in the doorway for a little longer before quickly moving her bags to a bed and rushing off to find the library.

Pyrrha noticed, watching as Ruby ran out. “Is she okay?”

Yang nodded, picking up her bags and digging through them. “She’ll be fine. Oh, that reminds me.” She fished out a couple of notepads, setting them down on one of the dressers. “These are to help you communicate with Ruby. She doesnt speak and we never got around to actually learning Remnant sign, so she and I came up with a bunch of gestures to help her communicate easier, that way she wouldnt have to carry a laptop or pen and paper with her all the time.”

Pyrrha smiled at Yang a bit, walking over to one of the notepads and looking through it. “We’ll keep that in mind, thank you.”

“No problem. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get my own room set up, and then help the Ice Queen calm down before comes back. Rather not hear about you guys missing any roommates already.”

Jaune chuckled a bit, setting up a couple privacy curtains around his bed. “Eh, I’ve had worse. At least she’s being nicer about it than what I have dealt with.”

#rwby #ruby rose #rwby ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #pyrrha nikos #nora valkyrie #jaune arc #drabbles #college au #just doing a small writing for it

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yongtxt · 5 years ago

Text

hundred [johnny]

word count: 4.5k words

characters: boxer!johnny x doctor!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: blood/wound/stitches mentions, johnny hates hospitals but he likes the pretty doctor, [im not a doctor nor a boxer pls dont say that i have info wrong because I Know]

author’s note: i know this isnt long to some of u but to me it is and i havent written this much for so long im so proud of myself for finishing this:( it isnt that good but this is the first long fic ive written in a while and shhsdjk also i needed to get this out of my system ive thought about this au since that jcc came out where johnny and hyuck was doing muay thai plssss (i couldnt find a better gif tho) ok this is getting too long / feedback is appreciated tysm

Johnny Suh hated hospitals with a burning passion.

It wasn't from a past trauma nor was he afraid of it, it wasn't that serious. He wasn't exactly sure what the cause of it really was. If he had to make a guess, it was probably from the accumulation of the little things, the insignificant factors people would usually dismiss but bothered him enough that it contributed to the big hatred he built for hospitals.

Maybe it was the distinct smell of hospitals, it reeked of death and old people. Maybe it was the atmosphere of the fluorescent-lit hallways, always gloomy and heavy. Maybe it was also the fact that the fees were so expensive and yet the food they provide tasted horrible, even the coffee was a hit or miss. The only upside he could think of was people get better in hospitals, but even that wasn't assured.

Despite how much Johnny despised hospitals, he always finds himself coming back. If he wanted to get better, he had no choice but to go. He would endure the gruesome process over and over again whether it be to treat his wounds or to stitch his cuts.

With his jaw littered with small bruises and his lips busted at the corner, he sat impatiently on the hospital bed as he waited for his doctor. He was fiddling with his fingers, knuckles bruised the same way his face was. He looked beaten up, he always did.

The clothes he wore contradicted the state he was in, they were fresh and laid back. He looked like a college student from the way he dressed. A delinquent more like, if one considered his cuts and bruises. Before heading to the hospital, he always makes it a point to shower and make himself appear presentable to the public. Although no one really bothers to take notice of his effort, only him.

The sliding door opened and Johnny's attention shot up from his phone, his gaze meeting with yours. Your head popped in, peaking through the small crack you made. Your eyes lit up in recognition as it always did whenever you see him.

"Youngho-ssi?" You spoke almost as if it was a question, voice barely above a whisper to make sure you were in the correct room, about to tend the correct patient.

Johnny didn't understand why you always did that, call out his name as if this was the first time you were seeing him. At that point, you've been already acquainted with him enough due to his numerous trips to the hospital. Either way, he nods every time.

You gave him a small smile, widening the door enough so you could enter. You wore a white lab coat, a name tag pinned to your chest and a stethoscope hung around your neck. You were small, although anyone compared to him was bound to be comparatively smaller – that wasn't the point, you looked young and that never fails to astound him every time you go through the door.

You had a clipboard in your hands, scanning through what he assumed to be his condition that a nurse had written earlier after a quick checkup and disinfection of his open wound. Your lips were formed on a tight line, eyebrows furrowed. He continued to stare at you with such amusement.

"You don't have to answer my question, Youngho-ssi, but why are you always here?" You finally broke the silence, startling him in the slightest. You never bothered to ask before, always just offering smiles and small talks while you did your work; maybe his sudden regularity of coming to the hospital recently made your curiosity peaked.

He couldn't blame you. Anybody would be curious why a 24-year-old man keeps coming back to the hospital with no clear explanation.

He cleared his suddenly dry throat, he never liked saying his job. He said, "I box for a living."

"Ah, that makes sense!" Your eyes visibly glimmered, absentmindedly jotting down notes on his medical records. "My coworkers and I thought you were in a gang or something."

"I don't think I would be allowed to be here if I was." He chuckled, making you giggle as well.

"Seo Youngho, 24, minor lip laceration in need of immediate suture." You read of his data from the clipboard, almost comically. It was medical terms he was unfortunately already too familiar with, to him, it basically meant that he had a busted lip that needs to be sewed shut.

"You can just call me Johnny. Youngho sounds too formal to me." He said nonchalantly. You nodded your head to his simple request; it probably was best if you got to know him better since he frequented the hospital so much.

"Alright, Johnny. We'll start the process now, okay?"

With keen eyes, he watched you slip on a pair of surgical gloves. You grabbed a tissue from the metal tray that sat beside him and began folding it into squares. He felt his heartbeat quicken, he hated getting stitches or any form of medical treatments for that matter, but as morbid as it was, he thought of it as punishment for his recklessness in the ring.

"Isn't boxing just, I don't know, senseless violence?" You asked, tone dripping with pure innocence and unadulterated interest as you gently dabbed away the remaining dried blood the nurse failed to clean earlier.

"It's a sport, it's how I bring money to the table." He pursed his lips, ignoring the twinge of pain that surged through his nerves. He visibly relaxed when you placed a hand onto his shoulder to reassure him.

Ever since the first time you got assigned to him, the first thing he took note of was the softness of your hands. You handled him as if he was fragile glass, despite how he easily towered over you. He felt pathetic as a 24-year-old but your gentle touches would greatly help put him at ease.

"I guess. I didn't mean to be rude." You were hesitant, Johnny could tell but he was glad you didn't push on any further. He couldn't handle explaining his occupation when you were about to pierce his skin. "Okay, Johnny, now that your lip is clean and the anesthesia had seeped in, we'll start. I think you know how it goes by now."

"Make it quick, please." He nodded, squinting his eyes shut at the mere contact of a surgical pen grazing over his gaped lips. You were relieved that his cut wasn't too big, you couldn't stomach the idea of putting him in too much pain for longer.

As you picked up the tweezers and string of nylon, you couldn't help but laugh at the six-foot boxer in front of you who was clearly petrified of getting stitches, "This will be done as soon as you know it. You won't really feel it because of the anesthesia, remember? Now count to a hundred backward for me."

Once the numb feeling of nylon dragged through his lips, he swore he saw white spots flicker in his vision. His eyes immediately watered and he tried his best not to squirm under your hold, beginning to count to a hundred backward like you had instructed him to. You admitted it to him the first time you stitched him that it was a trick that you learned from your pediatrician friend. Despite it being for children, it helped to get him distracted while you focused on your job.

Minutes felt like hours, Johnny had been fighting the urge to punch something, anything, to release tension and nerves. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took a peak and tried to take his attention away from what was currently happening on his lip. His gaze landed on your pretty eyes, how it was narrowed in focus and how your lashes perfectly framed it.

This wasn't the first time he'd observe you up close, there had been many occasions in the past that you had been too close for comfort in order to tend his wounds. It had been too many that it was almost as if he was close to memorizing your features. You were not only beautiful but you were also a smart and capable doctor.

Eventually, you finished and started to rub ointment on his sore lip — the finishing line.

"Try not to eat anything spicy or hard. You know the drill." You grinned at his suddenly pale features, ripping off your gloves as his eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the room. "You're good to go. Be careful next time."

He let out a shaky breath, clearly still winded up from the procedure, "I'll try. Thanks again, doc."

The punching bag felt great against Johnny's fists. There wasn't a feeling in the world that could compare to the impact of leather slamming against his skin. He could last hours mindlessly pummeling the bag if his stamina just allowed him to.

Hyunsik, Johnny's manager and personal trainer, drew away from the punching bag he held in between his arms. He let out a breath and held out a hand to motion that Johnny has done enough.

Johnny was hurting, Hyunsik could see that much. The bandages he had wrapped for the boxer's fingers were turning into a shade of red that they were all too familiar with.

Hyunsik clicked his tongue, "You should've used your gloves."

"How can I grow stronger if I keep relying on them?" Johnny rolled his eyes. His muscles needed a boost and this seemed to be the only logical way to strengthen them — a little blood never hurt anybody.

"Someday you're gonna fracture your hand and you'll be forced out of the ring. Remember that." Hyunsik huffed, his voice stern. "Take them off, I'll clean the blood off."

Johnny reluctantly did as told, unfurling the bandages wrapped around his fingers. The pain was excruciating when the fabric grazed along his tender skin, he winced at the unsightly view of his reopened wounds.

Hyunsik led him back outside of the ring to the benches where the first aid kit was. He made the boxer sit down so he could start cleaning off his wounds. It looked horrific, more so than it usually did and he had no choice but to break the news to Johnny.

"It looks really bad. You need to go get that checked in the hospital and have it sewed back." Hyunsik said, taking a wet towel and carefully dabbing it across Johnny's bloodied knuckles.

He didn't want to go to the hospital. Going to the hospital to have his wounds treated meant that Johnny would be medically required to take days off work to let his hand heal. Johnny frowned, "Don't you have an ointment or something that could help? I can't afford to lose a day of practice."

"Don't you think I know that?" Hyunsik rolled his eyes. "As your manager, I want you to be in top shape for your match next week, even if it means sacrificing a day or two for you to heal."

Johnny could only nod. He sat through Hyunsik's lecture on the changes he should make to his dietary plan and the exercises he should do during his temporary break. It infuriated him that he couldn't do anything about it but nod along.

The incoming match that was set next week would make or break his career as an underground boxer. He didn't have the option of missing it because of some measly reopened wounds. If he had to rest to get better, he had no choice but to suck it up. This was his fault anyway for pushing himself too much.

Johnny showered in the locker rooms and changed into nicer clothes that didn't reek of blood and sweat. His hands were stinging but he shook it off.

He ignored the concerned looks other boxers were giving him and begrudgingly made his way to the hospital to get himself checked in. You wouldn't be happy to see him all bloodied again, he thought.

Much to Johnny's surprise, it wasn't you who was assigned to him. It was a much older doctor with graying hair and a nose stuck too far up in the air. She was rude and condescending, her lack of politeness to her patients was quite appalling. If Johnny wasn't in such a bad mood, he might've complained already.

God, this day couldn't get any worse.

With a meek voice, Johnny asked where you were and at the mention of your name, his doctor gave him a narrowed look. She sneered, "She's handling much more important cases. Does she know you?"

"I think so." Johnny gulped, unsure of the answer himself.

The doctor's grip was tight and she was hasty. It was as if she was trying to speed through the process to just get it over with. Johnny wanted to cry because he was starting to get traumatized by this doctor's procedure, he didn't want to hate the hospital more than he already did.

He internally screamed for your name as he watched the doctor pull on the gloves. The sliding door harshly whipped open and there you were in all your glory, like an angel sent from above to save him from the devil incarnate who was about to pierce his skin.

You were panting and the sheen on your forehead made it obvious that you ran your way to his room. Johnny's heart leaped with glee.

"Unnie, I'll handle him." You said, unable to catch your breath as you made your way inside. "I think the ER needs you more than me."

The doctor seemed hesitant at first but you tried to convince her otherwise. She eventually agreed and left you with Johnny who had a cheesy smile on his face the entire time since you've arrived.

"So Johnny, what happened this time?" You asked, picking up the clipboard that sat next to him on the bed.

"I overdid the punching during training and it reopened some old wounds on my knuckles. It hurts like a bitch."

You pulled a face, "That's a bit intense."

He chuckled, "It's normal."

"Can I please see it?" You opened your palm so he could place his hand on yours. You observed his cuts and the scabs that were beginning to form around it, it was too deep to let it heal on its own so you made the verdict that he needed to get it sewed back together ⁠— as unfortunate as it was since he was a boxer and he needed his hands to box.

You tugged on a new pair of gloves and began the painful procedure, Johnny started counting down even without you instructing him to. You quickly got to work and stitched back his wounds with your lip in between your teeth

Johnny felt squeamish, he could never get used to the feeling of stitches. His eyes were glued shut and he mumbled numbers like it was mantra.

Once you were done, you smiled fondly at your work. You managed to get by with fewer stitches and you felt pride swell up in your chest. Johnny noticed and, as lightheaded as he was, couldn't help but smile as well.

"You're pretty good."

"At stitching?"

Johnny nodded with his cheeks flushed, he made a mental reminder to smack himself in the head later for such a crude comment. You probably thought he was an idiot now.

"I sure hope so." You chuckled, making him blush even deeper if that was even possible. "It's part of my job."

Johnny shook his head in embarrassment, his dark hair bouncing from how vigorously he did it. He mumbled, "That sounded really lame and not smooth, I'm sorry. Please forget I opened my mouth."

You could only chuckle as you apply the ointment around his knuckles. He wanted the ground to open up and just swallow him whole.

"Please let this heal completely, Johnny. Don't apply any strain on your injuries for a couple of days and refrain yourself from carrying anything heavy so that the stitches won't rip." You said, carefully placing down his hand back on his knee. You were gentle as ever, Johnny swooned. "Absolutely no punching for a while."

"I have an important match at the end of next week. Is there any way to speed up the healing process?" Johnny asked, his eyes were almost pleading at you and you blinked at him in surprise.

"Apart from what I just said, there's really nothing else you could do." You pursed your lips, watching his expression visibly deflate. "If you want to have even a sliver of a chance at winning your match, I suggest you do as I say. Your stitches won't take too long to heal, I promise."

If Hyunsik was there with him, he would've probably already scolded him but the point would be the same. He had always prioritized Johnny's health above winning.

"Okay, doc. I'll do my best." Johnny said, defeated.

"You know, I always see the aftermath of your matches and your training. I want to see you in the ring next time when you're not bloody and beaten up yet." You smiled at him and you swore that all the color that was previously drained from Johnny's face came rushing back. "If it's okay."

"Are you serious?" Johnny asked, almost dumbfounded. Did the pretty doctor he'd been crushing on for months really just asked if she could watch his match?

You nodded with the same hue of red now tainting your cheeks.

"O-Of course! It's on Saturday next week! Please come and cheer me on!" Like a little kid, he excitedly rambled on about the details about the upcoming match and you nodded with the same enthusiast as you wrapped bandages around his hands.

You weren't from his world so everything he said sounded foreign to you. The terms he said, the infamy of his opponents, the prominence of it all — you were eager to learn it if it meant seeing him this happy.

You've always known that he hated hospitals. It was clear from the way he acted during your first meeting. He was stiff and tense, the body language he exuded just screamed that he wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there. As he visited the hospital more and more, you noticed the hatred never faltered. He only became better at hiding it from you.

To see him so relaxed and carefree within the four walls he hated with all his being, it was a breath of fresh air and the feeling you had in your chest grew stronger.

"You're good to go. I promise to see you in your match." You were jotting some last-minute details on the clipboard and you missed the way Johnny kept grinning like an idiot. "As much as I love seeing you here, I hate that you keep getting yourself injured. Keep out of trouble for me, Johnny."

You left the room without letting Johnny say another word.

Fuck, Johnny realized he hadn't asked for your number.

Johnny's match started in ten minutes. His heart was pounding in his ears, he almost couldn't hear what Hyunsik was shouting to him.

The underground stadium was filled to the brim with people, he felt more nervous than he did during his first boxing match. A lot was at stake for this win, he needed the belt. He was desperate for it.

"Johnny, are you listening to me?" Hyunsik raised his voice, aggressively slapping Johnny's cheeks together in his hands so he could focus on him. The boxer's mind was fleeting and it was his job to pull him back to reality now.

He hadn't seen you since last week and as much as he wanted to go back to the hospital to see you, he refused to badly hurt himself in the days that led up to the match. Johnny scanned the crowd for your face but he couldn't see it. You weren't there.

At the lack of your turnout, he failed to mask his disappointment. Hyunsik let out an aggravated groan and pulled the boxer on his feet to berate him further.

"Johnny, please for the love of all things holy, look me in the eye."

"I'm sorry. I'm okay now. I'm listening."

"Good because your match is starting soon and I need you to win this. All your hardships and sacrifices boils down to this match, you hear me?" Hyunsik bellowed, trying his best to keep his voice louder than the cries and chants of the audience. "Show them what Johnny Suh is capable of!"

Johnny nodded fervently, forcing himself into a state of serenity of peacefulness. He let out heavy breaths to even out his breathing as his team surrounded him, prepping him for what was about to come.

Hyunsik raised his hand at Johnny. He had five minutes left until his match started and he wasn't calming down.

"Can I please have some water?" Johnny asked and his medic stumbled on his feet to fetch him a bottle from the nearby cooler. He couldn't help but let out a shaky chuckle, his team seemed tenser than he was.

He downed the bottle as soon as it reached his hand. His hand was shaky. Goddammit, why was he so nervous?

At the corner of his eye, he saw Hyunsik making his way over to the barricade that separated his corner to the rest of the stadium. He arched his neck in a way that would let him take a peek what was so important that Hyunsik had to leave his side when the match was starting in a few minutes.

It seemed like Hyunsik was trying to stop a girl who was forcing her way in through the barricade. His stomach lurched at the sight of her familiar face.

As if he was acting purely on instinct, Johnny shot up from his seat and ran towards you. Hyunsik held up his arm to stop him from going any closer to you. You could've been a deranged fan, for all Hyunsik knows.

"Johnny-"

"I know her."

Hyunsik was startled at his response and started to profusely apologize to you. You looked nothing but smug and Johnny let out a breathy laugh that helped unravel the knots in his stomach. The boxer quietly motioned for him to take his leave and Hyunsik hesitantly did as told only after tapping his wrist as a sign that time was ticking.

You bowed at him apologetically, "I'm so sorry I'm late! There was this damn patient-"

"It's okay. You're here now." He cut you off, a cheesy smile on his face. You easily reciprocated it back.

"I just came down here to wish you good luck." You said with the usual confidence in your tone gone and now replaced with a sudden timidness and bashfulness. "Not like you need it or anything."

"Where are you sitting?" Johnny asked, noticing that you were struggling to keep your attention on his eyes. He peered down and realized that he didn't have a shirt on, he chuckled.

You pointed near the walls of the stadium and he strained his vision to see so far away. He pursed his lips and let out a noise of discontent. You said that it was the only seats available because you were so late.

"Why don't you sit here with them? They wouldn't mind." Johnny said, jutting his thumb over to his team who was furtively watching his interaction.

"Oh no, it's okay."

"I insist. I want you to see me win up close."

You blushed a deep shade of scarlet and Johnny grinned at his successful attempt at a flirt. Was it even a flirt or was it an ego stroke? Either way, it didn't matter because you were smiling at him. You were easing his nerves and you didn't even know.

"I got out of my shift early so I wouldn't be in the hospital later to stitch you up." You teased, softly prodding his shoulder blade.

Johnny playfully puffed out his chest, "I don't plan on getting too injured today, I wanna look cool in front of you."

"Whatever you say, Johnny."

"But I'm nervous. I'm actually really nervous today." Johnny mumbled as if he didn't want anyone else in on your conversation, gone all traces of his cockiness as his heart thudded erratically against his chest when he heard Hyunsik's call of the last minute until he has to go inside the ring.

You gingerly reached for his taped hands and gave it a gentle squeeze, "Just count back from a hundred like I always tell you to. You'll do fine."

"Wait for me after the match, okay?" And so you did.

Counting down the numbers, Johnny clambered inside the ring and the bell rang to signal the start of the match. Being in the medical field meant that you were against all forms of violence so you couldn't really watch the entirety of the match without feeling sick to your stomach. Johnny didn't care, he was just happy that you kept your promise and was cheering him on.

It was hectic and everything was happening all at once. It was loud and everybody was screaming. This wasn't your world, it was Johnny's and your heart fluttered at the thought that he was willing to let you in it.

Eventually, the match ended in Johnny's favor and the next thing you knew, you were being hoisted up in the air. You had the biggest smile on your face, similar to Johnny's who now had a shiny belt slung over his shoulder. All his hard work and all his trips to the hospital paid off.

"Congrats on your win!" You exclaimed, placing your palms on his chest to steady yourself.

"I wanted you to see me get the belt." He admittedly sheepishly, reaching out to hold your wrists in his bruised hands.

"Aren't you hurt in any way? We can drop by the hospital if you want." You asked, checking to see if he had any major injuries but true to his word, Johnny was inflicted little to no injuries during the match, exclude the few bruises on his jaw and a busted lip

"Actually, I'd rather we get some coffee instead." Johnny said, the small smile on his lips making you chuckle.

"I'm sorry, I don't date my patients." You smirked at Johnny's crestfallen expression, softly shoving his side to make it known that you were only joking.

Johnny pulled a face, releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding once he realized your joke. He played along, "I think you can make me an exception, I don't usually invite people to my matches."

"So this is about getting even, huh?" You were teasing him and now your faces were merely inches apart but before Johnny could even think of leaning in, you spun around and grabbed his hand once more. "C'mon then, my treat!"

Johnny let out a laugh. A boxer and a doctor, who would've thought?

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yikesharringrove · 4 years ago

Note

idea that was spawned from all the angst before, but what about billy dealing with steves first episode? like billy climbing up steves window one night or coming back home to see nothing has been done. obviously, hes not mad, just concerned, heads to their room to see steve curled up under blankets and asking if he has a cold or is sick at all and steve, having his fathers impression that mental illness makes you weak is all like "yeah. ill be fine." and billy realising that steve isnt fine

(this isn’t gonna be part of the cheating au, this is a sweet soft boi billy au)

Billy furrowed his brows at the dishes in the sink.

Steve usually never letthe dishes pile up, leftover habit from his mother who liked everything spotless and presentation-ready at all times.

But there were dishes.

The ones from last night, and Billy’s from his breakfast this morning.

And the idea that they were there in the first place was unsettling, but what really got to Billy was the fact that there were no more. It was Steve’s day off and he didn’t eat anything.

Usually, on Steve’s day off, he deep cleaned the apartment, and made some elaborate dinner.

Billy would always kiss his head and say my sweet little housewife as Steve flushed and laughed.

But the apartment was as cluttered and messy as it was when he had left this morning.

The door to their bedroom was closed, and Billy rapt on it softly before pushing it open.

“Stevie?”

It was dark in there, the blinds closed tightly, and Steve was curled up on Billy’s side of the bed.

“Baby?” Billy knelt down, putting himself at roughly eye level with the little lump under the blankets. “Sugar, you okay? You sick?”

“Yeah.” His voice sounded hoarse.

“Can I get you something? Medicine?”

“No, thank you.” He was all monotone, his voice quiet. Timid.

“Are you sure? What are your symptoms?” Billy found his face in the dark, pressing his hand against Steve’s forehead. He wasn’t any warmer than usual.

“I’ll be fine, Billy.” Billy shrugged, went to go brush his teeth adn join Steve for an early bedtime.

Something didn’t totally sit right.

Last time Steve had the flu, he’d been a dramatic little baby about it.

Later, he told Billy he liked that Billy took care of him, and had a little fun with his role of sick as shit.

So maybe this was a worse sickness?

Steve hadn’t moved when Billy returned.

He gently pushed Steve over onto his side, and Steve let him, was unmoving dead weight as Billy rolled him over.

Billy sank into the bed next to him, pulling Steve into his body, rubbing up and down his back.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t think you’re sick.” Steve didn’t answer. “You can talk to me. You know that, right? Like if you’re mad, or sad, or you just need a day off, or something.”

Steve was still quiet. His back was tense.

“Sometimes,” he hesitated. Billy just kept rubbing his back. “Sometimes I can’t get out of bed. Like, I just physically can’t. I’ll get hungry, or need to pee, and it’s like, it’s like my body is too heavy and I can’t move.”

Billy just blinked in the darkness.

“My mom took me to a shrink once, the first time it happened. He said I was probably depressed. Dad just told me I was being a lazy pussy.”

“Wait, but, depressed?” Steve didn’t say anything. “But, I mean, aren’t you happy, like living here, with me?” Billy hated the way he sounded, like a scared child.

But if Steve wasn’t happy with him, that’s an even bigger issue.

“Depression is chemical. I can be happy and still be depressed. And I am happy with you. I’ve had the most good days I’ve ever had in a row with you. But the bad days still catch up.”

“What caused it? Did I do something?”

“No. Just, when I woke up this morning, it-it kinda feels like, I mean, I don’t really know how to describe it. I just, it’s like you’re so tired, all you want to do is sleep, but you can’t, for some reason, so you just lay there, hoping you’ll fall asleep, and you keep checking the time, and either a minute has passed that felt like an hour, or an hour has passed that felt like a minute, and you don’t really feel tethered to the world in any way, but also you feel so heavy, like you’re going to sink into the ground and any moment.”

Billy was speechless.

He had no idea Steve felt this way.

“How can I help? When you feel like this?”

“This is good.” Billy clung onto Steve tighter.

“I, um, I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s okay.”

“I wanna make you feel better.”

“Look, Bill, sometimes, sometimes you can’t. Not right away. But, uh, you can tell me that you love me, and hold me, and I bet tomorrow I’ll feel okay again.”

“I love you so fucking much, it’s disgusting. Like, you’re all I think about. You’re so perfect to me, and honestly, Steve, I love you with my whole, everything, like you carved a place in my fucking soul, and that’s where you live. Which sounds sappy as all hell, but it’s, it’s true. You mean everything to me, Pretty Boy. You are, the most important.”

Steve wriggled closer to Billy.

“Like I love you a lot. Like, a lot a lot. Like it’s almost scary.” Steve huffed a laugh. “I want you to be okay.”

“Me too.”

#yikes writes #tw depression #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble

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gwoongi · 5 years ago

Text

wordless pt.2

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: hitman (john wick au), sugar daddy au, angst rating: mature words: 4.4k warnings: violence mention, toxic relationships, mentioned deaths a/n: oh fyi jeongguk isnt part of the mafias included in these drabbles, he’s a solo hitman who works closely with taehyung nd other mentioned men. he has his own little business/group of hitmen (like the continental kinda style thing) where he’s sort of the big man who people look up to, but he’s not rly mafia :) hope that helps explain stuff hehehe. Also this one is sad heheheh x2

Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Jeongguk over the edge if he hears them again.

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

(11) Telling them a dumb joke just to see them smile.

“I’m really sorry, baby. I really am.”

Next to you on the couch, Jeongguk reaches for your hands that are clamped in your lap. The clock ticks hauntingly slowly, and everything feels dark, and cold, and empty. The front room that is usually vibrant with life and energy is now devoid of emotion, besides the sniffles on the couch that are hidden in shadows.

“It’s okay,” you reply quietly, sniffing once again. “Not your fault.”

“I know,” Jeongguk says, “but I’m still sorry.”

There was nothing that could have been done. Not really, even though Jeongguk repents at the thought that he could have done something. It was an accident, a car that pushed into another one and sent your parents off the bridge and into the Han River. It seemed impossible, but as of late, the impossible became possible. Jeongguk had heard the news several hours after you, contemplating in the silence of your responses over the phone. Eventually, he asked Taehyung and got more than what he bargained for.

“Is there anybody left?” he asks.

“Like my family?”

“Yeah,” he softly answers.

You sniff once more, wiping at your eyes with your sleeve. “My aunt, she, uh, she lives in Finland, I think. I don’t know, everybody cut ties after you. Well. After, you know.”

Jeongguk gulps sourly, “yeah. After your brother.”

Somewhere in the city, police sirens blare. From in the kitchen, the small radio still reads out a report of the accident, and if Jeongguk were to rise and look out of the window, he might see the flashing lights from the bridge. When the room goes silent, Jeongguk’s just afraid you’ll hear the report and start crying again.

“Can you, um,” you start, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I don’t know, tell me about your day or something.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jeongguk mutters, rubbing his thumb across your hand. “Wore that badge to work today. You know the Dad one?” You nod and he continues, “Got a stir out of my guys. You were right, Taehyung got salty about it.”

You manage a laugh, little puffs of air from your nose. “I should have got him one. Maybe a brother one, I didn’t see uncles.”

“Fuck him,” Jeongguk says, “My gift, my badge.”

“Don’t wanna upset him,” you shrug pathetically, along with a tight sniff that burns your left nostril.

Jeongguk rubs your arm, “He’s not gonna be upset. Seeing you upset makes me upset, though,” he says quietly, and you peer around your hair at him, “what kind of Dad would I be if I let my little girl be upset, hmmm?”

He raises his eyebrows like he’s feigning an innocence and the sight makes you laugh slightly, not enough to distract you but enough to leave Jeongguk satisfied. He smiles and leans over, dropping his head against yours with a little sigh that blows your hair. It wasn’t enough to distract you from the devastation that is losing your family, but if it’s something to make you feel less alone, then he’ll try.

(12) Following their family traditions that they enjoy.

“I can’t imagine your brother doing this,” Jeongguk says, holding a ribbon of tinsel in his hands with an unconvincing stare thrown in your direction. He does this whilst standing near the doorway, just behind your couch, like he’s ready at any moment to leave or come inside.

As he does this, you’re across the living room, waltzing with a tree that stands on an angle, lopsided and skinny and naked with no decorations. The lights sit in a snake-like swirl on the floor, flickering on one setting and in resignation, you sigh loudly and turn to face him.

“Well, the last time he helped me decorate a tree, I was five,” you reason. “It’s been a long time, but my parents always did this with me, and-”

“Yeah, I know,” Jeongguk frowns. Since the bridge, he’s always walked on eggshells around the subject of parents and traditions. Before he knew it, Christmas was two weeks away, and around his tight schedule and endless demand for his presence at work, he figured he had to make up for the lost time by being with you.

Jeongguk never imagined that he’d rely on you to absolve him of his own boredom and self pity, but here he is, on a Wednesday afternoon in your apartment that he unwillingly thinks of as a retreat, a home away from home when things get too claustrophobic back at his own place. Things are messy and complicated and cold there. He likes being here, because of how it feels being here.

But maybe he’s here out of guilt, and you stare at him for a few seconds, recognising this unfamiliar distance in his eyes that screams guilt and discomfort. You don’t want to mention it, scared of what might be underneath the mask he’s wearing tonight.

“If you’re not gonna do anything, can you at least hold the tree so I can put the lights on it?” you ask. “You can just go, if you want.”

“I don’t,” he insists, moving around the couch. “I just. I never did this as a kid.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he admits, grabbing the tree as you crouch for the lights, “so this feels a little childish.”

You shrug, “nothing childish about Christmas.”

“Everything about Christmas is childish when you have never really celebrated it,” Jeongguk theorises. Now that he’s holding the tree, it’s a lot easier to decorate.

“We can celebrate it if you’d like,” you suggest. He says nothing, “not like all the gifts and stuff, but just in general.”

Jeongguk smiles to himself and moves so you can weave the lights around the branches. “Alright, sounds like it’ll kill my time this Christmas?”

You scoff, laughing lightly. “Well, isn’t that what I’m here for? To kill your time?”

Jeongguk takes a step back once the lights are wrapped around, and throws an arm over your shoulder, bringing you closer to his body. “Something like that.”

(13) Playing your fingers through their hair while sitting next to them on the couch.

Jeongguk had asked you to meet him at his place when he got off from work, and thankfully the guard on the gate had let you up early with the promise of cookies the next time you came to visit. You let yourself up to his suite and waited on the couch, a cup of tea steaming on the coffee table and nothing to do but stare at the ceiling, lit up blue with the city outside.

About half an hour later, Jeongguk comes through the front door and drops his shit by the shoe rack. His keys rattle and drop on the counter and a few moments later, he’s moving across the room to the couch where he drops, knees first, setting his head in your lap as he falls.

“Hey,” you say unenthusiastically, stifling a yawn as he groans and stuffs his face closer into your body. He doesn’t say anything, just lies there, and you gently lock your fingers into his hair that seems messy and almost curly and begin to play.

“Tired?” you ask, and this time he moans in reply, a yes, and nothing else is said.

(14) Singing and dancing to their favourite song.

“Remind me again- it’s definitely okay that I’m here as your guest?”

Jeongguk’s hand on your lower back never disappears as he tours you around the room, gently smiling at people around him with a slender glass of wine in the other free hand. It is on this Saturday evening that Jeongguk finds himself in attendance of the Somber-Rain Ball. Unlike any other time where Jeongguk came solo, or with his colleagues from work, tonight he is joined by you, tailored in a beautiful black dress that sweeps the floor behind you, still somehow modest enough to keep you out of the glazed eyes of the other attendees.

“Yes, it is absolutely fine,” he sighs, steering you out of the self-collected gallery that surely belongs in this large and maze-like mansion. “I wouldn’t have brought you with me if it wasn’t allowed, Y/N.”

“I know, but lately you’ve been doing all sorts of things that you probably shouldn’t,” you remind him, curling into his armpit as you cross the dancefloor towards the bar, that slopes to a side and is scarcely populated. A man who stands there bows his head to Jeongguk but ignores him straight afterwards.

Jeongguk laughs, “Isn’t that my thing?”

“I don’t want to get myself into trouble,” you shrug. Jeongguk smiles and kisses the crown of your head.

“Getting into trouble is my job, dear, not yours.” He faces the bartender and slides the drink, “A round of bourbon after the dance, please.”

“What kind, sir?”

Jeongguk hums, then clicks his tongue, “Try the Brothers’ Bond, I heard you just had it imported.”

The bartender nods, “Certainly, sir.”

Jeongguk nods and turns his attention back towards you, right as the young bartender hurries to find clean glasses for the happy couple. Jeongguk turns to your eyes and smiles at the raised eyebrows he sees, and pulls you further towards him as the orchestra finishes their latest piece.

“Isn’t that the bourbon that the Salvatore brothers made?” Jeongguk asks, feigning an innocence and a forgetfulness for the time you brought it up to his face a few weeks ago. You say nothing besides shaking your head, turning towards the crowd as it slightly thins, just as the orchestra calls it for a few seconds, and a song on the speakers takes its place.

It’s just the first few opening chords but Jeongguk clearly is familiar. He sighs loudly, audibly with an “ah” and then tucks himself closer to you.

“Love this song,” he states. “Miss L/N, care to dance with me?”

You look towards the floor, and then back at him: “Yeah, sure. Is this Doris Day?”

Jeongguk seems pleased as he leads you. He takes a center position, caring little about the potential attention he may attract by taking your waist. It doesn’t stop him from doing so, a smile in your hair as he begins the dance.

“Glad you know it,” Jeongguk replies. “I spent a lot of time with my Aunt when I was younger. She loved this song.”

You hum quietly, “She has good taste. I think this song is in that one Tonya Harding movie.”

“Probably,” he scoffs, kissing your hair again and curling an arm tighter around your middle. He is certainly attracting unwanted eyes. In a metaphorical perspective, this is your first dance. Might be your only dance, but Jeongguk’s not trying to wish away the moment, not just yet.

(15) Calming them down when they have a bad dream.

Bad dream. Not you. Tonight, Jeongguk is a victim.

He shoots himself awake before you have a time to sit up on your elbows, and he pants loudly, searching around the mattress for a weapon but instead, he finds your hands. Jeongguk jumps.

“It’s just me,” you tell him breathlessly, staring at his wide and wild eyes. He gasps, like he forgot you were even there, but calms when he scurries to take your hand in his own.

Jeongguk hates to feel like he needs help, but tonight, he seeks you first. He slides his hands around yours and finds his grip, remembering where and who and presses a kiss to your hand as you lift it to his face.

“Sorry,” he apologises, “bad dream. I’m gonna-”

“It’s okay,” you assure him quietly, now sitting upright. “You never have to say sorry, okay? It’s okay.”

“Mhm,” he agrees half-heartedly. “I’m gonna….get a drink, or something.”

He rises from the bed and quite literally stumbles to the door, coughing the dryness from his throat as he makes his way to the kitchen. From the bed you sit and watch him leave, knowing from routine that when he comes back, he’ll lie awake, stoney, and won’t rest until the morning. He won’t sleep for the remainder of the night, and he’ll sleep in the office.

Jeongguk never talks of his nightmares. He never tells you about the recurring dreams of his past, his past lovers or friends or family. You know that the dreams must be so bad that he pretends to sleep to keep you from worrying.

He never tells you that he gets them most when you sleep over, because the more aware he is of you beside him, the more he dreams of losing you.

(16) Having a tickle fight until you’re breathless.

There was no contract for your arrangement with Jeongguk. You were part of a very complicated sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, and there were never really any rules to it. You could fall in love with him all you wanted, but all Jeongguk had made clear from the first date was that he didn’t fall easily, and wasn’t seeing you to fall in love. If you fell for him, he didn’t really care. He’d never fall back. (Right?)

Despite there being no rules, you still always felt like taking photos with Jeongguk often felt like a breach of contract, like breaking the rules. Jeongguk had already shown you off to the world of Mafia and crime at the Somber-Rain Ball, but yet you were afraid to take a photo for your own gallery.

There was one, however, that Jeongguk had taken himself and sent to you when he was on a trip in Athens. It was a slightly dark and blurry photograph, from early when you two had met and Jeongguk felt like he had to get you to stay sometimes by playing the role of a lover. In the photo, his fingers are ghosting at your sides, his face is scrunched and in a smile and you’re rolling around on the covers. It’s a live photo, so it moves for a few seconds.

Jeongguk had made you laugh almost to the point of tears, and you can probably still remember the feeling of knots in your stomach, your voice threatening to pee on his bed if he didn’t pack it in. He stopped, reluctantly. He didn’t want to see you pee. He didn’t want you to cry, either.

Back then, he had been generous to avoid tears. (What changed?)

(17) Folding their clean laundry and putting it away.

It’s been a long day. That was obvious by the way Jeongguk called you at two, and didn’t even want to do anything once you got here. Just got home. Are you free, maybe? Like an idiot, you came.

His place was a sight for sore eyes; by the front door, he hadn’t even taken off his shoes, and a pile of cluster and mess led a trail to his bedroom. You stood awkwardly in the doorway, staring at the way he lay with his face down on the covers, feet hanging off the bed stiffly, the curtains drawn, city blaring, TV on a quite volume relaying the emergency call made to the police this morning about the death of Cho Minsu, one of Seoul’s most controversial politicians.

For a few minutes, you remain in the doorway and he remains unmoved.

“...and, although the call made to the police department this morning was made anonymously, the leader of the police department, Choi Seungkwan, seems to believe that the call was made by at least one of the rumoured underground organisations within this city. Just last week, the Twin Tiger Mafia were making headlines after a fire was caused in the center of Seoul, but there have been no confirmations from the police at this time, nor has a statement been issued by the President. One witness said it was the work of one man, which leads the authorities to believe that this is the involvement of a third party.”

Jeongguk appears glum by the news but doesn’t switch it off. As he wallows in his own self despair, you turn back towards the main section of his home and take in the mess. There’s a smashed frame on the floor, and the kitchen is disgustingly overcrowded with dishes, and ashtrays that are like mountains. The living room is cold and empty and clothes hang over the back of his couch. Here, you find not only his clothes from the night before but also the suit from the ball, as well as underwear you know isn’t yours.

Quietly, and without a fuss, you reach for the unknown underwear and with your hand tucked underneath one of his clothes, you scoop them up and toss them into the washer in the kitchen. The ashtray is cleaned, the dishes are put in the dishwasher, and the curtains are drawn. Jeongguk must be asleep by the time you come into his bedroom, carrying the clothes you folded for him to set away in his cupboards.

This will be the second time you have cried in his bedroom while he was sleeping, and as he sleeps, peaceful and perhaps even remorseful, you return back to the front door and slip into your shoes.

(18) Sharing a soft smile across a crowded room.

You dream of him.

It’s the night of the ball. As you’re in the arms of Taehyung, stuck in a dance that will make you look less like a trophy wife for Jeongguk, the man himself is stuck in a conversation near the bar. Probably halfway through the waltz, you manage to lock his gaze. It’s like a movie, where the characters meet in slow motion, and everything seems to be slower and more passionate. All he does is smile, so gently and softly that it doesn’t even look like him.

It’s gone and he’s back to a straight face in conversation before you know it, but it’s enough for you to dream about it. Maybe this time, you’ll add a little bit to it, and create a new story to replace the original. One where the circumstances might be different, or the song, or the man you’re with.

(19) Bringing them a plate of their favourite sliced fruit.

“...what the fuck is a ‘BARB’, again? Surely not the Barbs, right? Right?”

Slowly but surely, you may be going insane behind this computer screen. You woke up in a cold sweat to the assumption your paper was due today, only by happy surprise to figure out it’s due next week, on a totally different day. It was eight, the sun was shining, and all Jeongguk can hear as he wakes up is keys tapping away relentlessly.

He stretches his arms and moves from the bed, swinging his feet to the floor and as if he owns the place (although if he’s being technical, he does) he heads to the shower and gets himself cleaned for the day he has planned ahead. Jeongguk showers, brushes his teeth and jumps into the clothes he came here in. By the time he’s out, he has time to poke his head into your makeshift study, which used to be a laundry room before the bastard thing broke and you had it moved to the bathroom instead. You’re still working, one leg up folded and a string of swear words leaving your mouth as you stare at the blinking word document.

Jeongguk frowns, nonetheless unsurprised by your antics. Ever since you went back to school, he’s been seeing less of you. Truthfully, it’s fine; Jeongguk is more than used to being alone and he doesn’t like to spend too much time with you. Not because he doesn’t like to, but quite actually for the opposite reason. Jeongguk likes you too much that he’s afraid he’ll give more than he wants to get back. Why fall in love when he can’t afford to?

Jeongguk moves to the kitchen, opening the fridge and getting a bottle of water. Sucking his teeth, he closes the fridge and grabs two apples from the bowl near the kettle. He twists the little device he found from your drawer and removes the stalk for both, cutting shapes out of the fruit into a bowl. He tosses the utensils into the washing up bowl for you to tackle later when you inevitably procrastinate, and before he leaves to go to work, Jeongguk heads back towards where you sit and brings the bowl just in between your hands, in front of the keyboard.

You look up with alarm as he does this, frightened because he came in so silently. He smiles quickly, innocent, and leans forward to kiss you. He tastes like toothpaste.

“Morning, gotta go, though,” he says in a hurry.

Before he moves back, you lean up and steal a second kiss, “so early?”

“Mm, I have to go to work,” Jeongguk replies.

You glance at the fruit. “Did you cut this?”

“Yep. I know it’s so hard to chop fruit, but I did it all by myself,” he jokes. He kisses you a third time, “Really gotta go. Don’t call me ‘til you finish this fucking paper.”

“Like that’s ever gonna happen,” you grumble, turning to the screen with a frown. Jeongguk smiles to himself and ruffles your hair, just before he steps out of the office and leaves you in the silence, collecting his things and leaving before Taehyung threatens to put a bounty on his head for being late to work again.

(20) Washing their back/hair in the shower.

“Fuck, shower sex sucks ass.”

You turn around, almost offended. “What?”

Jeongguk laughs loudly in the comforts of his own bathroom, leaning for a shampoo off the shelf. “I’m not saying you’re bad, I’m just saying it sucks. It’s so...slippery and hard.”

“I thought you liked it,” you reply.

He shrugs.

“Then why the fuck do you insist on it,” you sigh, spinning and leaning for the bottle. He moves it away, “Don’t be stingy.”

“I’m gonna wash your hair for you,” Jeongguk explains, squirting a generous amount into his hands. “Turn back around, love when your ass is against my dick like that.”

You roll your eyes and do as he says. He’s a kidder after he fucks you. Probably a pride thing because he knows he’s done a good job. Jeongguk massages the shampoo into your hair and inhales the scent, because it’s a new seasalt fragrance he saw on Youtube when he was looking at interviews for this one super secret guy he’s after, and apparently Adblock for Safari is shitty and never blocks ads on videos.

“Smells good,” you compliment. “Buy this for your other bitches, or just for me?”

Jeongguk smirks. “Nah, they got the banana one.”

“I thought you hated that fragrance.”

“That’s why they have it and not you,” he says simply. You don’t know whether or not the reply satisfies you. For one, it tells you that you’re his favourite, but it also tells you that he is indeed fucking other girls, which is something you were never totally thrilled to accept or believe. It conflicts you, to the point where you’re silent as he washes your hair.

“What?” Jeongguk asks finally, pulling at your head and half forcing your face to him. “You mad?”

“No,” you reply. “You done with my hair?”

He lets go, “Yeah. Just rinse it out.”

You do that, staring at the little drops of water on the shower door. Jeongguk sighs and switches positions with you, staring at your shoulders as you wash the shampoo out.

“Are you really mad?” he asks.

You sigh, “I’m not mad, Jeongguk.” You peer at him, “promise.”

“Bullshit,” he exclaims, like he’s tired. “I thought you knew I saw other people.”

“I did,” you lie. “It’s fine, really. I’m not, like, judging you for it.”

“Why’s it feel like you kind of are?” Jeongguk asks in response.

You shrug, “You tell me.”

The bathroom’s cold as the shower switches off and Jeongguk leaves first, stepping into the living room with the towel around his waist as you get dressed into a gown in the bathroom.

He looks over his shoulder at you as you exit, turning off the light and looking for your clothes around the room. He tugs, sick and frowning, and so he slowly moves for you across the bedroom. As you’re looking down at your clothes curled up on the chair by his drawers, Jeongguk snakes his arms around your waist from behind and slowly brings you up against him.

You close your eyes, as if to prevent yourself from saying something, and he kisses behind your ear. “I didn’t mean to make you unhappy, baby.”

“You didn’t,” you tell him.

“You know you’re a bad liar,” he mutters. “That’s why you’ll be a good journalist, you’re too good at telling the truth.” You resign, knowing he’s said this speech before. “You can be honest with me.”

You turn in his arms. “Look. I’m not mad. Mad’s not the word. Disappointed, maybe, but life is full of disappointments, you know? I mean. I don’t know...I moved across the city just to live next to you because you asked me to, I thought it could be easier for us to both get what we want out of each other and so it just...kind of sucks that you need other people? It’s like, am I not filling the gaps enough? I thought sugar daddies only had one baby at a time, I thought they were lonely old men.”

“Do I look old to you?” Jeongguk asks, missing the point. Only he knows the point. “And, look. You bring out the best in me. Just look at me.”

“I am looking at you, Guk,” you lament, “but I just see you, and this guy who wants more than he has. It’s sucky, for me, I guess.”

He thinks on that for a second. “You’re not just a baby for me, you know that, I know that, everybody knows that. I don’t even pay you when we see each other anymore, you can’t tell me that’s the same thing we expected to have a few months ago, right?”

“Right, but-”

“But, what?” he questions. “I’m here right now because I chose to be, and because being with you just feels...natural, I guess. I don’t like just calling you to fuck for five minutes because I got stressed out at work. You’re more than that to me.”

It struggles to settle in your stomach, and he stares down at you almost pleadingly. “You know that. You do, come on.”

“Baby...Look. If I was natural, and if I was more to you than a baby, then you wouldn’t need to be calling other people when you’re stressed. If you really needed me, you’d need me. It’s that simple.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, letting go, “It’s not that simple.”

“No, Guk, it is that simple,” you murmur. You smile at him, because you don’t want him to feel too bad about it. He simply stares at you, saying nothing as you look back at your clothes. “I have class tomorrow, so I’m gonna head home.”

He says nothing.

“Good night, Guk,” you call from the front door a few minutes later. He doesn’t reply, and the silence does it for him.

#took too long im sowwy #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #jeongguk scenario #jungkook x reader #bts #bangtan #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #bts jungkook imagine #jeongguk x reader #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jjk #bts mafia au #sugar daddy au #wordless

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letteredlettered · 4 years ago

Note

Ive only ever read(religiously&repeatedly)your h/d stuff.I'm not really a tv person and I'm pretty picky about what I read/watch etcalso I dont have much time, but I love your writing so much.I want to consume it ALL.So I'm wondering if (any) your other works are the kind where I can go in unfamiliar with the derivative source?Or if there isnt, which ones would be quickest to consume so I can hop in and get to your sweet sweet writing?Or which have themes I'd like as a fan of your h/d works.

I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ASK. Thank you so much for your kind words about my writing.

Unfortunately, I’ve tried, but rarely find myself able to write the Any Two Guys type of fic. I actually think the closest I get is my H/D fic, because I write them as adults who have moved quite beyond the events of canon. Still, you’ll probably notice from my H/D fics that I still rely heavily on canon events that would cause Harry trauma and emotional difficulties, and would cause Draco to feel some guilt or suffer punishment and require forgiveness in Harry’s eyes. I also still rely on magic and the loose premise of the wizarding world, and you’re expected to know characters like Ron and Hermione without explanation.

Most of my stories in other canons are like this. In fact, some require rather intimate knowledge of canon so that the reader can know things that the POV character doesn’t; this is why these stories work.

But! I did write a complete AU in a fandom, The Walking Dead. The show is a super violent gory zombie show that has a lot of boring fighting but some excellent character development and later, some really thoughtful questions about what society is and how it can and should work. The complete AU means no zombies, no gore, no fighting, no anything like that. The AU also posits something about a major character that is not seen at all in canon, though I will say this character in canon is quite reserved so it’s possible to do some interesting things with him.

Anyway, I think it would be very easy to read this series with absolutely zero canon knowledge, and I’m really happy with the series. The first fic is unrequited pining, otherwise, mostly gen. The second fic is really shippy and devolves into lots of porn without a clear ending. The third fic is a pwp you could skip. The last fic occurs after a significant time skip. I just love this series, honestly. It’s a comfort fic for me, and I wrote it at a time in my life when I needed comfort. Please do read the warnings--there’s a bit of emotional and physical abuse. It’s here: Words and Not Deeds.

Out of everything I’ve written, that’s the only one that’s possible to read without context, imo. The next three, you could read with only watching one movie each:

Go Your Own Way: I’m a bit embarrassed to rec you this, as I wrote it 9 years ago and um, the porn is not quite how I would write it now. However, this fic is actually the pre-cursor to The Boy Who Only Lived Twice, and if you read it, you’ll be able to see that TBWOLT is basically the same story, except H/D. You would need to watch The Dark Knight for this, although Batman Begins is also rather important. I’m not a fan of Batman Begins, so I’m sorry. But anyway, this is the most like my H/D stories with the least amount of canon to consume.

Sincerely Your Pal : For this one you would just need to watch the first Captain America movie--I can’t really recommend the movie, but I love the characters. I will say this story has a lot of the really intense feelings and self-reflection my H/D stories do, but it’s epistolary so quite different than a lot of things.

Responsible Science: This is a series, and you would need to watch The Avengers. The series is mostly gen, so I would say it’s not really like my H/D stories in that regard, though my writing always tends to deal with themes of self, self-expression, self-control, self-respect, anger, kindness, and limitations of society. I’m proudest of this series out of all the things I’ve written.

I can’t say there’s really anything else you could read without getting a bit of primer on the canon.

#self-recs #Anonymous

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casualbatteryoperator · 4 years ago

Text

lucid dreams | prologue

Obi-Wan Kenobi X Reader [Soulmate AU]

synopsis: Dreaming has become a meeting place for two people destined for each other. They say you see everything related to your soulmate in your dreams, including your soulmate. Surely meeting someone you’re destined to be with wouldn’t be difficult, right? Wrong. For you, it’s impossible. Sometimes you think your dreams are mere compensations for not having a soulmate.

warnings for this chapter: mild swearing

word count: 941

They say, when you reach the age of 20, you see everything related to your soulmate in your dreams, including your soulmate. These dreams last for an hour and after that hour, you see nothing but darkness. You’ve seen him, but you never got to talk to him, let alone gone near him. You learned (in a complicated way) that you only see each other when both parties are asleep. In every dream you have with him, the both of you always stood far from each other. He was always covered in thick brown robes which struck your curiosity even more, because you couldn’t really make out his features other than his auburn hair and beard.

Your dreams were often filled with odd looking spaceships, planets that do not exist, and weird, alien creatures, none of which made sense. This made you wonder if your soulmate was an astronaut working for NASA. Perhaps he was a scientist studying extraterrestrial life, maybe he was just one of those people who believe in aliens and lizard people, or maybe he was a big nerd. God, what have you gotten yourself into?

You kept track of these dreams. Just like what you’re doing right now, right after you woke up. “Flying cars, city-filled planet, aliens, laser swords, people in cloaks, books with alien language,” you mumbled while jotting them down on your dream journal. “Same as always.” Like everyday, you wished for something to be different. “When will I ever get to meet Mister Soulmate, Vincent?” You crouched down to pet the black and white feline. He meowed. “I know, I know. Breakfast first.” Vincent meows again.

After getting breakfast for the cat, you grabbed a change of clothes and rode your bike to the cafe with Vincent in the little front basket of your bike. You were meeting up with a friend for coffee. She called you the night before, greeting you with obvious excitement and glee, telling you that she has something to tell you and that it would be better to talk about it in person than over the phone. If you knew anything, she probably met her soulmate already. Not just dream-met them, but outside-of-dreamland-met.

She was sitting outside the cafe, two drinks already on the table. “Hey,” you greeted. You took a seat in front of her. “Aww, you brought Vinnie?” She coos, picking up the cat from your basket. “He can’t be left alone in my apartment anymore. Last time I did, he scratched the shit out of the curtains you gifted me.” She gasped, “Bad, Vincent!” She placed the cat on her lap, scratching his head. “Come to think of it, I’m glad he did that.” You joke. She sent you a glare.“So... what’s up?”

“We finally met up, y/n.” Your friend smiled wide. “And I’m not talking about meeting her in my dream, you already know I have.” Bingpot! Just as you suspected. “Remember when I told you that my parents told me the ‘dream-meeting’ stops once you meet your soulmate and you just get random dreams? How’d you meet?” You took a sip of your drink. She nodded, “It really does. Which is why we stalled for a bit. And also, you know, because we both wanted to focus on college. She’s so much more lovely in person.” You have never seen her this happy. Her eyes were sparkling. “If only mine would talk,” you grumble. “Wait, wait, wait. You have never talked to Mister Cloaked Man?” You shake you head. “You dummy,” she laughs at you then raised a brow. “You wasted five years of your life not talking to your soulmate who was right in front of you every night?! Why?” In all honestly, you have, but...

You tell her he always looked uninterested. That he seemed guarded and closed off. He only looked at you from a distance. “Ah, yeah, I remember. Maybe he’s an introvert, a busy introvert. It’s perfect, you always thought he might be a scientist.” She replied, adding, “you should be the one to break the ice between you two.” You consider her statement with a nod and a final sip from your cup. “It’s been nice seeing you.” She says it more to the cat than to you. You just laugh. “You, too. Work’s been eating you up lately.” Your friend works for the papers, and you’re an artist currently working on several new pieces for your gallery. So... you both were busy.

Later that night, you decided to take her advice. You were the one to spark up a conversation. And so, you hop in your bed with Vincent on the other side of the mustard colored duvet covering your body. Sleep slowly taking you in.

Moments later, a blur of lights started to become clear. The empty void of dreamland slowly fills up with flying automobiles, aliens, and laser swords, like Time Square. Where are you? You thought. You glance at your surroundings once more. Books were floating in midair. “So, you’re reading, huh?” You spoke softly. “Then that means you won’t be showing up for a while.”

You waited patiently for a brown cloak to appear in front of you. “Do you not sleep?” You muttered under your breath. You wandered around dreamland, admiring a floating glass with a city behind it. “City-planet,” an amazed sigh escaped your lips, taking it all in. Unbeknownst to you, he stood a few feet behind you. “It’s called Coruscant,” he said. His voice was smooth, like silk. You like him already. You turned around to face this man. He was wearing his infamous brown cloak. “Hello there.”

a/n: here it is, the prologue! I hope you found it enjoyable and worthy of your time. This will be a series that I’m hoping you’ll stick around for.

taglist: @itsyellow @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @fandom-blackhole @marvelunistudent @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13

#obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #obi wan imagines #obi wan kenobi x reader #starwars imagine #star wars fanfiction

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xazz · 4 years ago

Photo

Moth Wings 7

Pairing: AltMal, Altair+Desmond Rating: Explicit Tags: vampires, romance, servant AU, music AU, fluff, angst, flangst Status: WIP

Oof it’s been a while. I should really keep on top of this here on Tumblr. As before Tumblr gets updated before AO3, meanwhile Patreon is like 40k words ahead of everyone. Like Malik and Altair have fucked already lol

----------

Altair was alone in his room carefully restringing his violin. One of the strings had snapped and he took it as an excuse to put all new ones on. He saved the good old ones but putting new ones on gave him something to do before he passed out.

He’d been playing so much and that was why the string had broken. He’d tightened it too much and just all the playing he’d been doing the past few weeks had put a strain on the string and made it snap. It’d also left a cut across the top of his hand when it’d snapped, nothing serious but he’d had to leave Desmond in the care of someone else until the bleeding stopped. You couldn’t have an open wound around a vampire child like that. They didn’t have the control adults did.

He perked up when there was a knock on his door. Who? He got up and opened the door and couldn’t help himself. He looked down at Malik’s chest instead of at his face. “Did you need something, sir?” Altair asked.

“I came to see how your hand was doing,” Malik said.

Altair self consciously reached over and touched his bandage wrapped hand. It stung a little still but the bleeding had stopped. It had only broken the top few layers of skin, barely bleeding at all. “It’s doing fine. Probably won’t even scar.”

“Won’t affect your playing?”

“No, sir,” he said, still not looking at Malik directly.

“Are you able to play now?” Altair just shrugged. He flinched when Malik gently tipped his head up. “I don’t like talking to the top of your head, Altair.”

“Habit,” was all he said. Malik’s hand stayed under his chin, barely touching him.

“Is your hand well enough to play?”

“Tomorrow, probably. I should give it time to heal.”

“Good,” Malik nodded. “I’ve heard you playing for Desmond, you sound better every time, I swear.”

“Yeah, it’s called practice,” Altair said. Malik laughed. He’d never made a vampire laugh before. Well, except Desmond. But that hardly counted. Desmond was a baby.

“How are you sleeping?”

“That’s not your concern,” Altair said and finally pulled his head out of Malik’s reach, taking a step back into his room, hand on the door. “I don’t give you permission to come in here,” he said when he saw Malik try to step over his threshold. While Malik was invited into the castle and that meant every room he was welcome in you could revoke that permission. Altair had learned that when Desmond had first learned to walk and ended up almost going into rooms he shouldn’t have been in because he was curious. Altair was technically a member of the house and he could deny others access to rooms. He didn’t do it often.

Malik was frozen at the doorway. “I’m just trying to help you, Altair.”

“I asked you to leave me alone, sir,” Altair said. “That would help me.”

“How? Huh?”

“What does my condition have to do with you? You’re not of this coven, you’re not of this house. You’re just a guest. You shouldn’t meddle in the affairs of your hosts-

“Because I am not a monster is why,” Malik snapped. “And when I see suffering I want to end it if I can. My country is tearing itself apart and my coven decided to ‘make the best of it’ by coming to the conclusion that because humans were killing each other they could just casually hunt humans again like we were monsters. I couldn’t do anything to end the suffering there but damnit I can try and do something here,” he’d gotten very worked up and Altair was glad they were on opposite sides of the threshold.

“You don’t deserve to be treated like this, Altair. I want to help you.”

“I don’t want your help. So far you’ve done nothing but bring me pain,” Altair told him. “I was in ignorant bliss before. And you thinking you know what is best for me, a man you don’t even know, just made my reality all the more crushing. I told you before, you may help me now but you won’t be here forever, and when you leave this is where I’ll be. I’d rather not know the silken pillow for the stone that comes later.” Malik had nothing to say to that but he looked very annoyed.

“I need to go to bed now. Goodnight, Malik,” and he closed the door. He heard Malik make an wordless noise of anger and frustration on the other side but he didn’t care. He sat back down on his cot to finish stringing the violin. Only then did he put it away carefully and crawl into bed.

—

Now that Altair had taken Desmond outside the boy wanted to go more often. Altair didn’t mind. It was nice this time of year. Brisk at night, a creeping autumn chill settling in the valley. The leaves were starting to change color and soon they’d be falling. The master would bring some humans up in the day and have the grounds raked. It’d start snowing early and last well into spring. Altair had liked autumn and winter before he’d come to the castle but up here in isolation he hated it. There was no hot cider or warm fruit pies or the harvest festival.

So he was surprised when the master came and found Altair and Desmond in one of the gardens. Desmond was splashing his hands in the fountain, chasing the fish around the circular pond and slapping the water to make them dart away. Every time they swam away he’d laugh. Altair had a lamp beside him and was drawing idly. When the master came up he stopped drawing and kept his eyes down.

“So this is where you’ve been off to,” the master said.

“Yes, sir. The young master likes being outside in this weather,” Altair said, looking at the vampire’s well made shoes.

“Good. The town is throwing a festival in a few days. Bring him down to it.”

Altair looked up in surprise but when he met the master’s black eyes his brows went down and Altair immediately looked down again. “The harvest festival? We’re to go this year?”

“Yes. It’s good for him to see what sorts of things humans do so he isnt stupid.”

“Am I simply to accompany you and the mistress or am I free to wander?”

The master was thoughtful. “We will be the king and queen of the harvest and stationary. But a festival is a big place for exploring. We want our son to experience it.”

“Of course, master,” Altair bowed slightly where he was sitting.

“Ensure you look presentable when you go down there. You reflect on us as well,” he said.

“Yes, master,” Altair nodded. You mean not wear the same shirt he’d worn three days in a row because he hadn’t had a chance to wash them because he couldn’t add his laundry to the coven’s. William left after that, stopping briefly to see what Desmond was doing but he didn’t have much interest in the child.

Altair bit his lower lip and went back to his drawing. He needed to plan for this and make sure he had time to clean his nicer clothes. Or at least his nicest clothes. They were fairly nice too. He didn’t wear them often so he could keep them in good shape.

He heard a rustling of the trees and looked up, shielding the lamp slightly to help with his night vision. At first he saw nothing and then he hunched. A few members of the coven were flying off into the dark, their dragonfly and beetle wings flashing in the silver moonlight. He could hear their voices from here but not what they were saying, chattering to each other. Desmond looked up too. He held onto the fountain and started jumping up and down his little transparent wings buzzing without generating any lift. But he was trying.

They swooped across the nearly full moon, laughing and playing and Altair didn’t like watching them. Seeing human figures with wings like bugs flying in the night sky didn’t fill him with a sense of wonder. Were they just playing? Or were they out to play hunt? He’d heard of that happening, especially this coven. Not in Castlesong but in other towns in the valley they’d play stalk and hunt the people there only to laugh and dart away into the sky, finding the human’s fear of being eaten hilarious.

The vampires darted around the air but eventually flew too far away for Altair to hear or see them anymore. That made him feel better. He turned away from the sky. Desmond whined in annoyance he couldn’t fly with them and kept jumping to try and fly after them. Then he sat angrily on the ground, arms folded, pouting hard. Altair grinned watching him. “You’ll fly one day, Desmond,” Altair called to him. Desmond just whined and reached up towards the moon. “I know. You’ll get there when you’re older, just like the others,” Altair promised him.

“Now,” Desmond whined. Altair laughed. Desmond got up and came over to Altair and collapsed on his thigh. “Now,” he said looking up at Altair.

“Sorry. I can’t fly, neither can you,” he stroked Desmond’s hair gently. “But once your wings are bigger you’ll be able to.” Desmond just whined. “I know. Being a sweet little boy is so hard,” Altair teased him. Desmond whined louder and Altair just laughed some more.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Altair nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice behind him. He twisted around and frowned. It was Malik. He’d left Altair alone for a few days but he couldn’t seem to figure it out that Altair wanted to just be left alone for real. He was dressed in an elegant black and blue outfit that wasn’t a cut Altair had ever seen. At least not on a man. It looked almost like a dress but closer to a long tunic.

“Did you need something, sir?” Altair asked, looking at Desmond instead of Malik.

“I couldn’t help but overhear. Desmond wanted to join the others in a flight?”

“Yes. But he’s still too little.” Desmond pouted at Altair.

“Well that’s true, but he can still fly.”

Altair looked at him in confusion. “Unless there’s something I’m missing about how wings work, no he can’t,” he said.

He almost swallowed his tongue when Malik came around and without asking picked Desmond up. The child protested for half a second but in that time Malik unfurled his huge wings and picked himself up off the ground. Then Desmond started making happy little squeaks like he did when she was a newborn.

Altair got to his feet nervously, drawings forgotten. “Don’t drop him,” Altair called up to Malik who was only ten or so feet above his head.

“I would never,” Malik said. He flew back and forth around the fountain.

Altair’s heart was in his throat when Malik flew up over the garden trees and he lost sight of them in the darkness. His heart pounded with anxiety and then a huge pair of eyes appeared in the darkness above. Altair took a moment to realize it was the false eyes on the inside of Malik’s moth-like wings. He let out a shaky breath of relief when Malik landed in front of him.

“He’s fine,” Malik said even as Altair snatched the baby from Malik.

“If he was anything less than fine it’d be my life,” Altair said, holding Desmond tightly.

“Plaw!” Desmond cried happily, squirming in Altair’s arms but Altair kept a firm grip on him.

Altair took a deep breath to calm himself but his heart was still hammering. “Did you enjoy that?” he asked Desmond. Desmond nodded hugely, a huge smile on his face. “What do we say to people who do nice things for us?” he asked and faced Desmond towards Malik.

“Thank you,” Desmond cried cutely.

Malik looked taken aback a moment and then softened. “You’re welcome. What are you doing out here?”

“We’re enjoying the night,” Altair said, trying not to sound incredulous. He was a servant, not a captive. He could leave the castle as he wanted and certainly walk the grounds.

“Plaw plaw,” Desmond demanded.

“Desmond, hush,” Altair said.

“Altear, plaw!”

Altair sighed. “Alright.” He’d left his violin in the castle. He tried to juggle Desmond around to pick up his things but to his surprise Malik just did so instead. “I can take those,” he said, holding a hand out for them.

“I don’t mind,” Malik said.

“I’m sure this doesn’t qualify as leaving me alone,” Altair said.

“I live here. You’ll have to get used to me being around,” Malik said with a smirk. The real annoying part about it was that it just made Malik look more handsome, especially with his slightly wind ruffled hair from flying.

Altair just didn’t bother arguing. “Fine,” he said and took Desmond back into the castle. He let the boy down in his room and Desmond ran around and pulled out some of his toys and set them up like a little audience to listen to Altair play the violin. “I’ll take that now,” he held his hand for his things again to Malik.

“Can I join the audience?” Malik asked sheepishly. That annoyed Altair. Why was he so persistent in trying to bother Altair? Couldn’t he just leave Altair alone? But Altair figured at this point it’d be easier just to go along with it than fight Malik on it. He was good at making himself a nuisance and Altair didn’t have the energy to fight him.

“If you want,” and Altair took the sketchbook and his pencils. Malik glided into the room and sat cross legged behind Desmond’s toys he was still setting up to witness Altair’s playing.

Altair got his violin and got ready. He’d built up the proper calluses now over the weeks and his hand dexterity was way up. That made him happy. “Is everyone ready?” he asked Desmond who was carefully aligning his toys just so.

“Almost,” Desmond said, rearranging the wooden horses he had into some order that made the most sense to him, which Altair had no idea what that was but it made him happy. Then Desmond flopped down next to a large soft stuffed animal. “Plaw,” he said and he gave a little cheer when Altair drew out the first chord across the strings.

The two vampires watched and listened in silent delight. Altair hardly noticed them. He was playing a song he’d found the last time he’d visited his father. He’d brought some sheet music back up to the castle to have some actual music to play. The song he played was the only one he’d memorized so far. It was normally played with a singing accompaniment but Altair didn’t sing well enough to try. It was about a mountain climber trying to reach the tallest peak surrounding the valley. But he was foolish and went during a blizzard and never came home. People found him frozen to death on the side of the mountain a week later once the weather turned. It was a sad song but the tempo was upbeat and was usually sung as a cheerful but cautionary tale about not being an idiot and staying home during blizzards.

He finished the song and Malik clapped. Desmond looked at Malik and after a second mimicked him, slapping his palms together and not really succeeding in a proper clap. “That was amazing,” Malik said. “Right, Desmond? Altair plays beautiful music.”

“Bu-ful,” Desmond declared, still clapping.

“Did you make that?” Malik asked him.

“No. It’s a well known bard tune here in the valley. It’s about not going out during a blizzard or you’ll freeze to death,” Altair said.

“Excuse my ignorance: what’s a blizzard?” Malik asked. “We don’t have that where I’m from.”

“Well it's a storm but instead of rain it’s snow so thick you can’t see through it and can drop feet and feet of snow. It’s dangerous to go out in because of the cold.”

Malik grimaced. “That sounds terrible. Do you have blizzards often here?”

“A few times during winter, yes.” He laughed when Malik shivered just thinking about it. “You came here.”

“I didn’t think the weather would be that extreme,” Malik admitted.

“Altear, plaw plaw,” Desmond said, quite over the adults having a conversation when he could have more music.

“Okay okay,” Altair said to quiet him. He tried playing a song he was in the process of memorizing. He had the first part down but the second part was coming along slow. But he played it and the vampires didn’t care that he played the first few dozen bars over and over again to try and remember the next part.

Eventually he grew frustrated. He needed the sheet music. “Alright, that’s enough for now,” he declared.

“Awwww,” Desmond complained.

“I’ll play later,” Altair said.

“Yay!”

“Now put your toys away. They all want to go home after the performance,” Altair said. Desmond got up and started picking up his toys.

Malik unfolded from the floor. “That was magnificent,” he said, coming over to Altair as he was putting his instrument away. “It sounds so different from how you started off.”

“Desmond insists I play every day. It’s hard not to improve,” Altair said.

“I’m quite jealous of him. He gets to hear you play all the time. I just do if I happen to walk by at the right moment.” Altair just shrugged. Malik looked at Desmond cleaning up. “I’ve seen other vampire children, they’re never this well behaved, or clean up their own mess,” he said.

“Were they raised by vampires, or humans?”

“Vampires,” Malik said.

“Vampire parents don’t care about their children,” Altair said, punctuating it with clasps on the case snapping closed.

“That’s not true,” Malik protested.

Altair looked at him mildly, looking up but over his shoulder just so Malik wouldn’t touch him. “From what I’ve seen so far they don’t,” was all he said.

Malik grimaced. “Well... William and Kaley aren’t really star parent material I’ll agree,” he said. “But most other vampire parents care about the raising of their children. They’re still rarely this well behaved.”

“You can care about your children but if they’re old and aloof you’ll neglect them anyway,” Altair said. “And they’ll act unruly. I assume that’s why the masters have had humans raise their children for them. They know they don’t care, so force a human to care about them instead.”

Malik was taken aback. “The rest of them?”

“As far as I know,” Altair shrugged. He moved away from Malik and went to help Desmond with the last bit of putting his toys away. “What do you want to do now, Desmond?”

Desmond looked thoughtful. “Dwa,” he said.

“Okay,” Altair said gently and got some paper and pastels and pencils and put them on the floor for Desmond to draw with. Altair didn’t mind if Malik was still there. He could hang around if he wanted but Altair didn’t care about him. His only worry was Desmond. Desmond had an active imagination and loved drawing and it was full of color and intricate lines as he mimicked Altair. Altair also sometimes drew him lined drawings to color in. He’d gotten very good at drawing flowers as of late for Desmond to color in as those were some of Desmond's favorites. It meant there was a stuffed folder full of messily colored well drawn flowers.

He was shocked when Malik sat down on the floor with them. “May I join you, young master?” he asked Desmond.

“Dwa?”

“Yes. I like to draw too.”

“Okie,” Desmond said happily and went back to merrily scribbling on some paper.

Altair looked at Malik as he started drawing on a half used piece of paper Desmond had already drawn a few wide scribbles on. He was using Desmond seemingly random lines to make something out of them. Altair couldn’t help but keep glancing at what Malik was drawing even as he was casually using the pastels to make block shapes on his own paper. He was surprised that Malik was actually quite good. He had a delicate but purposeful hand, the pencil he was using barely leaving a mark on the paper but he went over it again and again to build up depth and volume in a way Altair had never seen before.

After a little while he’d turned some spiraled scribbles Desmond had put on the paper into strange centaurs of those striped horses that pulled his carriage. Zebras? Altair thought that was what they were called.

“Ooo,” Desmond leaned over to see what Malik was doing. “Horsey,” he pointed.

“Yes. They’re called zebras,” Malik said patiently.

“Zeeebas,” Desmond said.

“Close,” Malik allowed. “I have some.”

“Have horsies?”

Altair sighed. “Now you’ve done it?”

“What?” Malik asked.

“Horsies. Horsies. Horsies!” Desmond cried. “Altear horsies.”

“I take it he likes horses?” Malik asked with a grin.

“He loves horses. Ever since he saw Jacob and Evie leave that one time on them a few weeks ago to go visit a town in the north part of the valley but they were too lazy to fly,” Altair sighed.

“Altear, horsies! Zeeeebas!”

“I think he just wants to taste one at this point,” Altair leaned on his thigh.

Malik chuckled. “I have zebras,” he told Desmond. Desmond’s black eyes got huge. “Would you like to see them, young master?” Desmond’s mouth popped open and he just made a high pitched screeing sound he did when he was excited.

Altair reached over and closed his mouth. “That’s loud,” he said. Desmond flapped his hands at Altair excitedly, whining loudly. “Use your words and answer master Malik properly,” he said calmly.

Desmond tried to compose himself but he still flapped his arms excitedly. “Go zeebas?”

“Ah— if it’s alright with Altair,” Malik looked at Altair.

“What do we say?” Altair asked Desmond.

“Please!”

“Yes. We see the zebras. But first we have to clean up.” Desmond made an annoyed noise. “The quicker we clean up the sooner we can see the zebras.” Desmond immediately got up and started putting the pastels and pencils into their wooden bin. Altair gathered up the papers. Malik handed over his zebra centaurs over to Altair to add to the pile. Altair took a more than cursory glance over the picture and quickly put it away and got up to hide his blush. The two centaurs had his and Malik’s faces on them.

How inappropriate.

Altair picked up the bin and put them away, out of reach of Desmond normally and the paper went into one of the nearly overflowing folders full of paper. “All clean?” Altair asked Desmond.

“All cwean!” Desmond said proudly. Altair held out his hand and Desmond bounced over to grab it. “Zeebas now?” he asked, pulling on Altair’s hand.

“Yes. If that’s alright with you, sir.”

“Of course. I offered,” Malik said. He guided them out of the room and through the castle. They passed a few members of the coven who’d just come back from their flight, laughing and shoving each other playfully. They greeted Malik and Desmond but ignored Altair entirely, not even acknowledging that he was holding Desmond’s hand while he excitedly told them they were going to see the horses in the stables. Then they passed the trio by and disappeared into the castle.

“Rude bunch,” Malik said.

“They’re vampires,” was all Altair said and he saw Malik wince.

They left the castle and Altair saw the dull color of a false dawn on the horizon. They couldn’t be out here too long. Malik led them around the drive to the stables. In the large stables were normal horses and in a paddock outside were Malik’s four zebras.

Desmond cried out when he saw the zebras and pulled on Altair’s hand but Altair only walked a little faster.

They got to the fence and Altair picked Desmond to put him on top of the fence to sit, holding onto the boy lightly so he didn’t fall. “Just be ready to grab him,” Malik said.

“Why?”

“Zebras can be... aggressive,” Malik said even as he climbed over the fence. Yes. Just say that and walk off like it didn’t shoot worry all through Altair instantly.

He didn’t know what Malik was doing but he did start leading a zebra over by a halter. The creature seemed lethargic. Not a shock. It was late and it had probably been just woken up. “Here we go, young master, a zebra,” Malik said, presenting the zebra before Desmond. “I believe this one’s name is Qaseem.”

“Horsie,” Desmond said and reached out to pet the front of its nose. The zebra allowed it, its eyes lidded and sleepy. “Pretty,” he said.

“Yes. They are, aren’t they,” Malik said. “They’re from my country, far to the south of here. Only vampires keep them.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re a pain to train, and breed, and maintain,” Malik said and Desmond just stared at him, not understanding. “Because humans don’t like them,” he said instead.

“Ooooh.” That Desmond understood.

Malik let Desmond pet Qaseem for a little bit before Altair said, “The sun will be up soon. We should go back inside.”

“No. Horsie,” Desmond whined.

“We can see the horsie tomorrow night too. But the sun is coming. We don’t like the sun, right?”

Desmond looked torn. “Sun bad,” he finally agreed.

Altair helped Desmond down from the fence once he gave Qaseem one last pet on the head. Malik released the zebra to go back and join the others of the little herd. He climbed over the fence and joined them on the right side. “See zeebas again?”

“Yes, of course,” Malik said.

“Yay! Altear, hungry,” he proclaimed.

“Yes. I’m sure,” Altair said.

---------

Hey you, yeah, if you liked it, consider reblogging. It helps me a lot. Maybe leave something nice in the tags idk.

#Assassin's Creed #AltMal #Altair #Malik al-Sayf #Desmond Miles #Moth Wings #shut up bb

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joontier · 4 years ago

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sa mga ulap | drabble

translation: among the clouds

synopsis: you’ve decided to surprise namjoon by joining the flight he’s piloting to Germany, but in the end, you’re the one who gets surprised

pairings: namjoon x reader

rating: NC-17

au: established relationship!au; pilot namjoon and taehyung! au | genre: fluff; humor ;

warnings: a dash of sexual innuendos here and there

word count: 1.9k

request: by @mintseesaw “ GABBYYYY MY LOVEE HII for the drabble game, may i pls request for bighani ft. the loml namjoon + est. relationship au or husband!namjoon hehehhfkffkgjh” GIRL IM AT WORK WHILST DOING THIS WHICH ISNT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN BUT THAT POST OF JOONS THIGHS 🥴🥴🥴 SO YES THE THIRST IF FUKEN REAL SKFSJDF id like to apologize in advance for any mistakes askdfjiajf i just started and finished this toDAY gnhgnh BECAUES GOF THE THINGS NAMJOON DOES TO MEAJFAWIOEFJO

g/n: this is part of The Paraluman Playlist - a drabble game we’re holding for the whole month of August!!! I DUNNO YALLS IM TEMPTED TO PUT A NAMJOON POV FOR THIS ONE

navi. | m.list

As Namjoon’s goodbye kiss lingers, your hands slowly trail themselves up to his nape, wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck to pull him closer. “Where are you headed off today baby?”

“I have a flight to Germany and Italy afterwards, then we’re flying back to Seoul. Probably be back in less then a week or so, darling.” Namjoon’s facial features soften as you look up to him with a pout, placing another kiss on your forehead. “It’s okay baby. I’ll be back before you even know it.” Your boyfriend of seven years squishes your face between his palms as he peppers kisses all over your face.

You’re usually not this clingy but Namjoon has been busier than ever, with double the number of flights he has on his schedule than usual. Not to mention they’re all all long-haul flights - meaning he has to fly for more than seven hours for every trip. Which is why you’ve decided to throw a little surprise, for your boyfriend since you’ll be celebrating eight years together tomorrow.

With a handful of help from Namjoon’s friends in Korean Air, a whole lot of bribing (and maybe a dash of under-the-table exchanges under Namjoon’s name) you managed to book the same flight to Germany Namjoon was going to pilot, wanting to surprise him when you arrive at Berlin and maybe spend some of his free time together as you travel around nearby tourist spots. Or you know, perhaps a quiet, sultry night at a luxurious bedroom provided for by the company?

Either way, it takes a mighty effort from you to even attempt to contain your excitement inside, biting your lip as you dust off invisible crumbs off his shoulders. Namjoon isn’t the slightest bit fond of their uniform, staying true to his preferred laid-back fashion sense, but to you, your dashing boyfriend in his uniform was a sight you could never get used to. “I miss you already,” you sigh, holding him tighter in your arms.

Palm brushing against his crotch, you flutter your eyelashes at him in the hopes that you might convince him just a few more minutes with you. Greedy of you, yes, but could anybody blame you if your boyfriend was devastatingly tall, dark, and handsome? Not to mention that time that the amount of time away from home his job takes away from him was to you, a woman of many needs, unacceptable.

“Come on, baby, you’re going to get me late for work.” Hands gently squeezing at your waist, you feel Namjoon rest his chin on you as he holds you close. Heaving a sigh, you let go, letting him grab his necessities off the table. As he bids you goodbye for the last time, you manage to get a slap on his ass. Your boyfriend turns to look at you, expression stoic as ever. “Can’t get enough, can you? It worked last time honey, but it won’t now.”

“At least I tried right?” Namjoon shakes his head at you, blowing you a kiss as he closes the door of your apartment. The moment you hear the door click, you make a quick dance, giddy as ever. Quickly, you make a dash for your room, grabbing your suitcase from the top of your closet. Having planned this a month ago, you head on to grabbing the clothes you intended on bringing, taking a pile of clothes and underwear (you might have added a lingerie set in there too) strategically stashed in one side of your closet for convenience and faster packing.

Taking out your phone, you swiftly go over the list you’ve made for things you have to bring, checking if everything is situated where they’re meant to be. You dress up as fast as you could, put light makeup on and go through your apartment, making sure you’ve left no appliances on during your leave.

Leaving a larger tip to the cab driver for bringing you to the airport faster than expected, he gladly helps you with your suitcase, likewise wishing you happy and safe travels. With less than two hours left before Namjoon’s flight, you go through the usual pre-boarding routine before heading to one of the few restaurants inside the waiting lounge to grab lunch. As you walk to your boarding gate, someone taps on your shoulder, and you turn around to see Myunghee in her uniform, smiling excitedly at you.

You inwardly squeal, elated to have met her before boarding. She was one of the few people in Namjoon’s circle of work friends, and of course, one of the few people who helped you with your plan. Sharing a quick hug, she asks you how life has been treating you and you respond with the usual, being busy with work and this quaint cafe that you and Namjoon had agreed on establishing, hidden amongst the many crowded streets of Seoul.

When you ask her the same, she shyly tucks almost non-existent small strands of hair between her ear, the studded ring on her finger glinting proudly against the light inside the hallways. Your mouth falls agape, instantly cupping a hand over your mouth as you squeal excitedly. “Taehyung proposed?! And you didn’t even tell me?!”

“It was just two weeks ago! And you know it’s been hectic for us recently. This year’s peak season is...wild, to say the least.” You nod in agreement, understanding her situation. You don’t keep her long after her revelation, and she says she’d gone ahead of the crew knowing you were going to be lurking around here too before boarding. Myunghee advises you to stay in a secluded place for the meantime before heading to the boarding gates, just in case Namjoon passes by and sees you.

True to her words, you see your boyfriend shortly after, walking alongside Taehyung. You quickly hide behind a large pillar, secretly watching the two friends make the corridors their runway. You feel like a fangirl seeing her favorite celebrity as they walk by in their white button ups, aviators and all. There’s a tiny bit of jealousy swimming inside you as you notice you weren’t the only one swooning over your boyfriend (or the duo, for that matter) but it gets overcome by the pride beaming in your chest, having him as your boyfriend.

Courtesy of your boyfriend’s employment at Korean Air, you’ve had the opportunity to travel a lot overseas hence your frequent flyer points. Deciding to spoil yourself while you’re at it, you’ve opted for a first-class seat, wanting to get as much rest inside as well. A couple of hours later after your near encounter with Namjoon earlier, you’re already comfortable in your seat, the soft leather effectively lulling you to sleep. You manage to stay awake though, enough to hear Namjoon’s voice after the in-flight announcements and directives. Feeling more excited than ever, you snuggle to your seat, a contented smile on your face.

Multiple taps on your shoulder wake you from your dreaming of beautiful Berlin, a flight attendant in her uniform gently shaking you awake. “Miss ______? The captain requests everyone to listen to the announcement.”

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, this is Captain Namjoon Kim speaking, we are currently cruising at an altitude of 35,000 feet. The weather looks good and we are expecting to arrive approximately thirty minutes ahead of schedule. Estimated time of arrival in Berlin, Germany around 2AM following Seoul’s timezone. The cabin crew will soon be going around to offer you a light snack and beverage, and the inflight movie will begin shortly after that.”

Namjoon’s voice has this authoritative lilt to it, yet wonderfully soothing at the same time. The captain continues, “Actually, I’d also like to take this opportunity to acknowledge the presence of my lovely girlfriend, Ms. ________, currently seated at 13 F upstairs.” The man coming from the lavatory looks at you then back to your seat number by the divider. Shrugging, he gets back to his seat like nothing happened. You, on the other hand, are shell shocked, surprised at how Namjoon found out you were here. Surely, Taehyung and Myeonghee wouldn’t have outed you just like that.

“It’s okay, darling. I already knew you were going to join this flight a week before our friends knew, so you don’t have to worry about anyone revealing your ‘supposed’ surprise,” Namjoon adds, seemingly aware of your thoughts. You hear hushed laughter from downstairs as a few people listen to his speech. “Could you come here downstairs for a moment, babe?”

The same flight attendant from earlier approaches your seat from behind and extends her hand out as she points to the stairs. “If you would please follow me this way please, Miss ________.” Soomin, the name of the flight attendant you just discovered, giggles at your reaction, escorting you to the galley a level below.

“Ah there she is,” Namjoon sends you his infamous dimpled smile, reaching his hand out for you to take. ��My girlfriend, ______.” Taking his hand in yours, he smiles to all the seated passengers, “I’m sorry to keep this short, because I still have a job to do,” Namjoon points his thumb to the cockpit, where you hear his co-pilot turned friend, Taehyung answer back, “I got this Joon! You go do your thing bro!” Your boyfriend mutters a short ‘thanks’ in return.

With your hands intertwined, you feel Namjoon tremble slightly, worry instantly crossing your features. You squeeze his palm once, peeking over to him. “Okay, honestly, I prepared a whole speech for this, but then time constraint...I-- I’ll just go straight to the point. In a few hours, we’ll be celebrating eight years together. It may have had its own bumps along the way, but I wanted to let you know that every moment spent with you was worth it. Every time I fly to another country, I only have two goals in mind, to transport our passengers safely to their destination…” a man from the back whoops while a few from the passengers clap in amusement.

“...and two, to come back home. And you know what they say, home is where the heart is. Home is you. You are my home. And there’s no one else in this world who I’d rather have that be, but you, the love of my life. With the sky we are crusing at, the heavens above, and the ground below, and of course all of the people present on this plane as my witness, I wanted to show everyone how much I love you.”

You hear Taehyung’s deep distinct voice from behind approach, “Flowers for you, lovely lady,” he bows, handing you the flowers, “...told you they won’t wilt easily,” he winks at Namjoon, before joining Myunghee by the aircraft’s door. You’re already teary eyed at this point, and Namjoon makes sure to wipe a stray tear from the corner of your eye. “With this proclamation, I also wanted to let you know that I want to spend the rest of my life loving you,” your boyfriend gets down on one knee, taking and opening a small velvet box out of his pocket. “Hopefully, you’ll want to spend the rest of your life with me too?” Full on crying now, you bend forward, taking his face in your palms as you say your approval. Namjoon stands up with slight difficulty with Taehyung jumping and cheering behind him and he wears the ring on your fourth finger.

You kiss yourfiance one more time, feeling like you’re just among the clouds.

Please let me know what you think! x

#paralumanplaylist #bts scenarios #bangtanhq #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #btsguild #btsghostie #hyunglinenetwork #kim namjoon #bts fluff #bts imagines #kim namjoon scenarios #bts namjoon

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mrs-nate-humphrey · 4 years ago

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(submission) so while that au where serena comes out out of spite isnt ever going to get fully written (and what exists is pretty rough), i did go track down the doc, and i figured you might find what i had interesting. it follows:

“This doesn’t make any sense, because that would mean… that Eric is… and he’s not.” Her mom’s voice drops to practically nothing. “He’s just not.”

Eric looks pained, and Serena feels the same pain in her chest as she knows he does.

“Are you?” She finally turns to him, and the ache curls into a violent ball at their faces, at the way realization dawns. “Oh, God.”

He runs.

“Eric!” She shouts his name without thinking, shoving herself up from the table.

Fuck. Anger blisters in her chest, and Serena turns on her mother because Really? “Well, I’m sure you’ll be even happier to know I’m bisexual.”

The same terrible, silent shock reigns and Serena shakes her head as she shoves her chair the rest of the way back. “Great, Mom. That’s just great.”

She feels a hand on her arm and yanks herself away from Georgina, remembering exactly how this happened.

“How dare you?” she spits, and runs after her brother.

His door is half-open when she stumbles to a stop at the edge of the hall, and Serena takes a moment to steady herself before slipping inside. She shouldn’t have said that. It was reckless, and there was a reason she hadn’t brought it up before, and it’s another thing Georgina knows now, but her mom’s face—

She closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. Serena probably shouldn’tve done that, but Eric didn’t even get the choice about it.

She pushes the door open.

Eric mumbles a goodbye into his phone and flicks it shut at the sight of her.

“Who were you talking to?” she asks, deciding to start off easy on both of them.

He half-grimaces. “Chuck.”

“Wait, you called Chuck?” It’s only after she says it that she realizes it’s why he grimaced, but she wouldn’t take it back. It’s a warranted reaction.

“Yeah,” he says, sitting down at the foot of his bed, surprisingly undefensive. He always is. “I’ve been talking to him a lot lately. Guy’s got his faults, but he’s never judged me.”

Maybe not defensive, but armed. It hurts to hear him say that, probably even more because she knows it’s right. She pushes it back, and sits on the bed across from him. “I’m your sister. We’re us. You can tell me anything.”

“I wanted to, but it… it’s—it’s not the type of thing you blurt out on the way to school.” He thinks she means this, Serena realizes, or at least that’s where he’s sending the conversation and it’s her job to listen. “I was waiting for the right time. Dinner with Georgina definitely wasn’t. At all.”

She laughs, because he has no idea how right he is. “Yeah, and then I did.”

“Wait, what?” Eric’s eyebrows drop in confusion, and he leans towards her like he might’ve misheard.

“You like boys and not girls,” she says, gesturing loosely between them. “I like boys and girls. …And I kind of threw that at Mom.”

Eric blinks at her. It hurts so, so much less than—

“But I’m sorry,” Serena tells him, taking his hand from between them. “About her, but mostly about me. I came back for you, but…”

He half-smiles, and saves her from trying to find the words. “Hey, I get it. It’s okay.”

“It’s really not.” She swallows, shaking her head. “I promise, though, I’m here now, and I love you.”

“I love you, too.” His smile widens into a proper grin, and she knows the hard part is over.

Which means she has to ask. “So ‘boyfriend’?”

“When I was at Ostroff, I met this guy. We were going through a lot of the same stuff, and now…” He shakes his head, grimacing. “Now that guy is dating Jenny.”

“Wait, you’re the mystery guy Asher was spotted kissing?” She winces, every Gossip Girl rumor about her she’d ever hated flashing through her mind, and squeezes his hand. “I know this isn’t how you wanted this to happen.”

Eric squeezes back, and lets go. “Yeah, I’m guessing this isn’t what you wanted either, but I think the important part is that it’s happening.”

“I’m so proud of you,” she says, because she is. He’s so much better than she ever was.

“Yeah,” he says, head ducking. “I think I’m gonna drop by Asher’s party. There’s one more person I have to talk to.”

Right. Boyfriend. Dan.

“I, uh, I guess there’s someone I need to talk to, too.” At least before Georgina throws this all over Gossip Girl, or figures out something worse to do with it.

He stands up, and offers her a hand, and they head out together. Mom and Georgina are both gone when they go through to get to the elevator, and Serena should probably be worried, but all she can feel is relieved not to have to deal with them.

She catches Dan just outside the coffee shop, and she can feel the usual giddiness at the sight of him and the relief to have found him mixing with the fear of rejection already settled in the pit of her stomach.

What results is a rambling greeting as she pulls him into a hug. “Oh, thank God you’re here. I’m so happy to see you. Hey.”

“I’m happy to see you, too.” He grins at her as he pushes her back, and thank God they’re okay right now. “You can meet Sarah.“

“Oh, I’d love to,” she says, pasting on a photo-ready smile, trying to shove down the petty jealousy the name sparks and the less than petty fear that’s been clawing at her the whole way here, “but there’s something really important I need to tell you first, can we talk?”

Dan blinks at her, with his familiar, startled, big brown eyes, and pulls her gently away from the door with the hand still resting on her arm. “Yeah, sure, what’s up?”

“I—“ She swallows. “I really like you. I love you, okay?”

“Oh-kay?” The startled look intensifies, and it’s so Dan that she wants to cry. “I mean, I love you, too, but…”

“Sorry, I just—“ She shakes her head, trying to breathe. “I want to make it clear that I’m not cheating on you, and I’m not breaking up with you.”

He frowns, confused, and slowly says, “That’s… good.”

She swallows, and meets his eyes, and—“I like girls.”

“Oh.” He blinks, and for one terrifying heartbeat there’s silence and then she watches everything click and the words pour out. “Oh! Okay, that’s cool. I, um, I’m really glad you told me.”

Happiness bubbles warm out of her stomach and she laughs, unthinking and relieved. “I’m really glad I told you.”

He smiles at her, soft and warm and she loves him so much, and turns half away from her. “Do you wanna go inside? Because if you want, we can just stay out here and—“

Someone yells his name and he spins, that overexaggerated Humphrey kind of moving. She follows and—

“…or not! Serena, this is Sarah. Sarah, Serena.”

Georgina smiles, and Serena’s heart stops.

She sees the text from Eric pretty much the second she hands Serena off to Nate and Chuck to haul up the stairs. have u seen s? she didnt come home last nite

She doesn’t bother texting back, just calls. Maybe he’ll know why she said—

Eric answers on the first ring, with “Please tell me you found her?”

“Yeah, but Eric—“ Serena nearly slips out of Nate’s hold on the top step, and fear chokes her for a moment. She breathes out slowly, and waits until everyone’s on level ground before continuing. “It’s bad. Like, ‘before she went away’ bad.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath over the phone.

“What the hell happened?” she hisses, because that was not nearly as startled as it should have been and the fact they were looking at all is a statement in and of itself.

Nate’s head pokes out the door, and he starts waving her over as the sounds of Serena vomiting begin echoing loudly–alongside Chuck’s equally loud dismay over his shoes. She grimaces, gesturing violently to the phone and mouthing “Eric!” until he seems to understand and give up.

“I…” Eric hesitates. “I’m not sure. She seemed fine the last time I saw her, yesterday before I came to the party, but it was after something pretty nasty happened with my mom. She’s still out looking right now, so—“ He swallows. “Just—once she’s sober enough, just tell her Mom… tell her Mom’s trying, and that she loves us.”

Blair purses her lips. “I need you to keep your mom from coming by.”

“Wait?” She can practically see Eric’s frown. “Why?”

“There’s something else going on.” Something that’s been going on since the SATs. She’s been trying to ignore the signs, but they’ve been there, and with what Serena said last night… She shakes off the thought. “She needs to talk about it, and that won’t happen with her mom there.”

There’s another long hesitation. “…I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you.” The retching suddenly increases in volume. “I’ve gotta go, bye.”

#you're RIGHT this made me feel SO MUCH #thank you for sending this in!!!!#i don't even have words im just 🥺😭😭#fic rec #submission #serena van der woodsen #emeto cw #maybe? just in case??#1x15 au #okay i added the read more #im Trying to be organised

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reeesea · 4 years ago

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Something Sweet: Part Eight

~something special~

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

pairing: minsung, han jisung/lee minho

warning: mild language, some alcohol consumption

words: 4.4k

summary: Jisung gets his night out and a new birthday buddy

a/n: This au isnt dead! yay, I hope you enjoy the mess <3

ao3 link

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“Hyung, where are we going?” Jisung tried his best to sigh as loudly and dramatically as possible. “Today was already so long, you could've just left me on the couch tonight.” His whining was largely ignored by his friends to much of Jisung’s despair. He was feeling a little bit drained at the fact the trio had all spent the day in meetings with groups of people, and now was being dragged, his introverted ass to be exact, was being dragged out of their apartment to be around even larger groups of people. Damn his members for both being charismatic bastards with extrovert tendencies.

“Ji, you're literally always complaining that we never go out. Aaand you're right. We never do sooo, here we are.” Changbin had all but peeled Jisung off his blanket pile on the couch and into his nicest pair of jeans and his “least offensive” shirt. According to Changbin of course that meant a sleek black button up, that he's pretty sure Changbin had gifted him some Christmas ago. But of course being Han Jisung he had found a few of his favorite accessories to complete his look.

“Plus something tells me you won't be complaining for too long, once we get there”

“What's that supposed to mean Channie-hyung”

He continued on without giving him a response. They had been walking for only a few minutes, neon filling the street as streams of people made their way through to the various bars and restaurants on the block. The glow of the nightlife was electric, Jisung couldn’t deny it, but he still didn't find it to be what he would call a comforting atmosphere. It definitely had nothing on his blanket cocoon he had going on the couch. Spacing out as Chan led them through the streets, the oldest took an abrupt left into an entrance of a bar, almost hidden by the largest store fronts that occupied either side of it.

As soon as Jisung stumbled through the doorway, a sense of deja vu came over him. Well maybe not deja vu because he had definitely been here before. The mirrored walls and the low lit space was now full of weekend patrons that breathed life into the place that he hadn't realized it was missing the first time he visited. Wait, when had he visited this place?

“Jisung!”

Minho!? Before he could spend any more time traversing his thoughts he looked over to the bar to find Minho smiling brightly at him. Unlike his first visit, Hyunjin was un-uniformed, seated on a stool alongside a giggling Felix, and not behind the bar. Chan and Changbin both shared a look before gently shoving Jisung to move out of the doorway and toward their friends.

“What are you doing here?!” Jisung somehow didn’t think he would be seeing the older this weekend, they had shared similar sentiment over the past week that they were looking forward to a no-plan-weekend.

“What do you mean I work here.” Hyunjin mused sarcastically. Felix hit him, and got up enthusiastically to greet them.

“WE’RE BIRTHDAY TWINS, we HAVE to celebrate” Felix hugged him immediately. Jisung was surprisingly comfortable in his clingy embrace. Something about the disarming nature of the boy made it feel almost natural, and maybe it was. Clearly a bit tipsy already the freckled boy talked animatedly about how excited he was to finally have a friend that was “LITERALLY” his age. Jisung admittedly could relate, and found himself beaming right back at his new companion.

---

Minho hadn’t taken his eyes off the youngest rapper since he ‘walked’, stumbled, through the door. He was initially afraid that Jisung would feel sore about celebrating his birthday with Felix but the bright look in his eyes when they met his, smoothed any of those anxieties.

Last week, Minho was more than surprised to get a text from an unknown number. It turned out just to be Bang Chan looking to plan a get together between the lot of them for the youngest’s birthday. Tragic backstory and all, Chan was sure to elaborate on Jisung’s dreams of going out with his friends.

“He really just wants to be a normal kid ya know, well not a kid exactly, and not normal by any means, but you get my point. To be honest, as hyungs we feel bad for taking that away from him. He's so pure at heart really, and he works so hard, and I know he doesn't sleep enough, but does anyone really? hahaha, anyway...” Minho found that Chan rambled just like Jisung, it was painfully endearing.

Of course, Minho had agreed to let them help coordinate a get together. It was mostly Chan who had his own work cut out for him. Negotiating with their company about last minute free time was a challenge but he just had to reassure their management that everything was in place and promise that they wouldn't do anything “newsworthy” to potentially hurt their debut. Minho reassured them that dispute the host club’s reputation, Sweet Lotus was probably the most secure club in town.

Chan had been frantically messaging Minho just an hour ago, about how they couldn't find Jisung, only to get a message ten minute later apologizing and reassuring him that he was actually just buried on the couch. Chan gave off single parent vibes so strongly, Minho can’t help but let his guard down, and found himself warming up to the 3RACHA leader quickly. He looks rather relieved to have made it to the Sweet Lotus with Jisung in tow. Jisung’s loud but warm laugh filled the air and Chan’s shoulders visibly relaxed with a gentle smile stretched across his face. Minho found his heart settled comfortably in his chest as well.

---

“EXCUSE ME EVERYONE.” Although the statement was only for the ears of the six of them, a few surrounding victims were pulled in by Hyunjin’s dramatic exclamation. “I require a toast for this evening! Even though we haven’t known each other long. THIS night, is a night of celebration, of birthdays, of new friendships, of potential one nigh-”

“Hyunjin!”

“Sorry… Anyway, first ones on me boys lets get it.” dramatically distributing shots of clear liquid they all did a inaugural cheers simultaneously downing the shot. Jisung made a disgusted face that triggered some subtle harassment from Changbin, who pinched his cheeks fondly.

The night now officially blessed by Hyunjin standards, Minho decided it was probably time to actually begin the night’s planned festivities. “While I do enjoy shots of free soju, that's not exactly why we're here. Is it?”

“It's not?” Granted Jisung had no clue why he was in most situations, but he was especially lost having been told nothing prior.

“Come on Sungie, it’ll be fun” Minho took his hand subtly, and led them up a set of stairs near the back of the bar. Soft magenta light flooded the stairwell as they made their way to the second floor. Minho nodded at the tall handsome host at the entrance, allowing them to enter the lounge freely. Upbeat music flooded the room, bodies dancing under other multicolor lights seemed so content it was almost like a scene out of a movie. Pairs of couches laided with expensive looking fabric, and even more expensive looking patrons lined the walls. A light fog dusted the floor, and everything about the room felt intoxicating and indulgent.

Jisung looked up to find Minho’s gaze already on him, warm and inviting as ever. He looked like a perfect match to the pink haze and sweet scents that surrounded him. Minho led the group with such confidence and grace he matched his beautiful environment, it was very clear why he was so popular when he had worked at the Sweet Lotus. He embodied the very image. The self conscious part of his brain wouldn’t let him enjoy the image long though.

Something about him couldn't help but feel like he stuck out. Sure Changbin had dressed him up for their outing, but he still couldn’t help but feel like he didn't belong to be surrounded by people as beautiful as his new friends. 3RACHA wasn’t exactly known for their beautiful charms or dainty visuals. Minho, Felix with his whimsical smile, and Hyunjin with his undaunting charisma were all in their element here. Jisung always had a rough time figuring out his image outside of 3RACHA.

Apparently sensing his anxiety he felt Minho's hand hold on to his firmer, and even Chan left a gentle pat on his head. Already situated themselves in a secluded booth near the back, Changbin had already gone off to order drinks for their table with Hyunjin, Felix was talking to Chan about their shared home town, Sydney. And then there was Minho. Looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a questioning look.

“What, is there something on my face?”

Minho’s giggles somehow sound like bells, Jisung can’t explain why. “No, no you just seem uneasy. I just want to make sure you're actually happy to be here”

“I am I promise! I'm just really surprised, I had a long day and I didn't really know what was happening until we got here, and I’ve never been to a place like this before, and I haven't seen you in a while and, wow let me tell you it's really good to see you.” Suddenly he felt like his face and hands were on fire. His connected hand with Minho’s burned with the realization.

“Also you're still holding my hand! Did you know that? In case you didn't know I just wanted to make sure you knew. Not that I want you to stop I actually really enjoy it, but just in case you like forgot or somet-”

“You're adorable Sungie.” Minho’s eyes remained locked on Jisung with overwhelming fondness. Just ask Jisung, he was definitely overwhelmed. His face continued growing hotter until he saw a hand outstretched with a glass of liquor in front of his face.

“Ji, take the drink and close your jaw you'll thank me later.” Chanbin coaxed the flustered brunette to drink the bitter alcohol he had brought. Tearing away from Minho’s intense stare, he accepted the drink and took a sizable sip from the glass.

“LEE MINHO.” The 3RACHA boys all practically jumped out of their skins at the booming voice. While subtle grins formed on the unbothered roomates.

“Ope, Who told on me?” Minho asked, completely unfazed, looking at his roommate accusingly.

“It wasn't me….” Hyunjin’s lists of excuses died in his throat, as a woman dressed in a sparkling purple dress made her way over to their corner booth, finger already pointing accusingly at Minho.

“How dare you show your face in this place after 3 months, without a WORD.” The woman almost sounded betrayed and hurt through her voice. Still it was obvious that the threatening woman immediately demanded respect with the way she held herself. Although her words were sharp her graceful features didn't deliver much real malice other than signs irritation at the oldest dancer.

“I’m sorry, Noona time got away from me~” Minho flashed his innocent puppy eyes and added a subtle charm to his words that the beautiful woman seemed to be completely immune to.

“Uh huh, and I'll pretend I believe that excuse.” Something akin to a standoff seemed to be occurring between the two.

“But ONLY because I missed seeing your pretty face around here.”

“...Guys, this is Momo-noona she owns Sweet Lotus.” Hyunjin’s attempt to provide the bystanders with some context broke the light tension in the air. Momo shifted her expression to a bright smile that suddenly screamed gentle kindness, void of all the intensity it had previously held at Minho.

Seemingly hoping to aid in the situation Chan jumped in to respond, “Oh well, it's great to meet you, I’m Ch-”

“Oh, don't worry, I know exactly who you are.” The eldest member’s eyes widened and a nervous laugh escaped his lips, not expecting to be recognized. Especially by the semi-threatening woman.

“You're the hometown heroes around here, the next big thing in the music industry hmmm?”

The trio seemed to only be more cemented in their stunned silence. Momo’s smug expression did not last long before transforming into a large smile and welcoming expression. Her aura radiated a welcoming feeling, unmatched, even by her employed hosts.

“Truly, it's my pleasure that I get to host the 3RACHA boys, you'll always be welcomed here.”

“I- uh um, Were flattered really, Thank-” Changbin stumbled out.

“You don't have to Thank me any sweet Changbinnie~ as long as you enjoy yourselves and promise to visit again. I’m happy.” Changbin’s ears glowed red at that, thankfully hidden by the colored lights.

“How do you know us so well? Is Hyunjin gossiping more than he should be?” Jisung poked some fun at the bartender.

“Hey! Confidentiality is our highest priority. I would NEVER!” Hyunjin crossed his arms defensively, sinking further into their booth.

Momo giggled, content with her employee’s loyalty, “Thank you for that Jinnie, but no a friend of Sana is a friend of mine”

“Wait you know Sana-noona?” Jisung was surprised that Sana actually talked about them to her friends, a part of him hoped she was proud to be associated with them.

“Mhm, believe it or not your sweet Sana-nonna is my closest friend. We’re thick as thieves, we were even roommates for a few years when we first arrive in Korea”

“Woah” Changbin was definitely glowing with some pride now at the implied indirect compliments and recognition. Meanwhile Chan was still trying to connect the dots in his head from all of the new information, a cute confused look on his face.

Momo took a moment to lean closer to Jisung’s face. Acknowledging their hands that were still joined. Directing her attention back on Minho with a smirk, “He’s a cutie Lee Know. I’ll give you a pass on abandoning me for months, if this one is the one stealing away from my establishment.”

Minho grew red at the use of his past host name, and personal nickname from Momo. Minho’s nervous laugh erupted out of him. “Aaahhhhh okay Momo-noona thanks! it was great seeing you, ah would you look at that I need another drink. Come with me Hannie.”

Minho was slightly scrambling to escape the booth in embarrassment at Momo’s dramatic encounter with them all. Jisung was pulled in tow from their joined hands.

“Oh okay, it was nice meeting you Momo-ssi.” Jisung used his free hand to wave at their booth before they disappeared into the dancing crowd.

Hyunjin had revived himself from the booth, giggling at his retreating roommate. Felix joined in too, and enjoyed seeing the flustered side of their hyung.

“Is he always that precious. I just have the urge to pinch his cheeks.” Alluding to Jisung, Momo turned to the remaining 3RACHA boys for confirmation.

“We all do.” Chan’s full charming smile and older brother's pride visible on full display.

---

The night continued as “planned”, once the unofficial couple returned from the bar. More alcohol was ordered to sustain the drinking games that Hyunjin had spearheaded into teaching the rest of them. Being the current university student apparently was enough qualification for the rest of them to follow without any resistance.

“Okay and so once your turn is done you pass your glass to the next person and they have to go.” Although full of enthusiasm the rules didn't make sense, nor could anyone properly follow them, so it ended up just being Hyunjin yelling at the each of them when they should or shouldn't drink.

“CHANGBIN they won on your turn, so that means you do a shot!”

“What I- Okay hand me the bottle.” Without even pouring a glass, he shot back an acceptable amount of soju for Felix to drunkenly cheer from beside him.

“Yay Changbin!!! Join me on my journey to blackout.”

“Lix baby, that should not be your goal.”

“It never is.” Felix sighed at his hyungs concerns, but not before taking a sip from his fruity cocktail he had ordered earlier. Jisung had an identical cocktail one that he had finished quickly. Felix had originally ordered them so they could “match for their celebration”. No one could ever say no to Felix, and that remains the only thing that makes him truly dangerous.

Overall, it was a mess, but all of them finished the game substantially more tipsy when they started. Jisung was definitely starting to feel the effects of the empty bottles and glasses around him. He felt a little numb but just enough to be more comfortable and accepting of the new atmosphere. Having not expected any of this tonight, he definitely found himself surprised that they all had gotten through the large number of bottles that the uniformed waitress had brought them not even an hour ago.

The buzzed feeling in his body didn't make him any less aware of his company though. Felix's bubbly personality comforted and uplifted the whole group. Changbin ended up being a relatively heavy drinker, having lost the most rounds during their games, and became more animated as the night went on. Chan was smiling almost non-stop and it made Jisung glad to see his oldest hyung relax and enjoy a night out, after working so hard for so long. Hyunjin’s laugh would echo through each conversation making the environment warm and fun. Jisung never would have thought that the fabled “night out” trope would actually feel relaxing. He couldn't help but smile to see his hyungs and his new friends become closer. So much of his life has shifted since meeting Minho.

Minho’s hand had been disconnected from his still they returned but they still sat knee to knee in the booth. The shared warmth of their legs and the mindless fiddling of fingers when Minho would reach over to play with the frayed strings on the holes of his jeans, kept the content feeling of butterfly wings steadily in his stomach. Jisung felt full of bliss as well as soju.

Minho was mostly focused on all the group’s conversations and the liquid level of his glass, but every so often would sneak glances beside him to make sure Jisung was still smiling. Sometimes staring back, sometimes not but Minho wanted to make sure the other was enjoying his birthday celebration. The smile that had been plastered on Jisung’s face and his infectious laugh that flooded the room, was enough to reassure the older.

Minho managed to stay just relatively tipsy for most of the night but the rest of his roommates did not seem to be as in control of their drinking as he was tonight. Hyunjin had descended into his sleepy contemplative state of drunk while Felix was practically buzzing with electricity as he talked off the 3RACHA members’, and anyone who would listen’s, ear off.

Drawing back in to see how Jisung was doing he found that the younger boy’s eyes were already on him. A heart shaped smile spread across his face as their eyes met.

“Before you give me those dopey eyes again. Yes, Minho-hyung I am having a good time and have been since the last time you checked.”

Minho forced his mouth to close after being caught. He was about to deny his accusation when Jisung just reached for his hand and held it smiling, actively shutting the other up. Suddenly very distracted by the way the neon lights bounced off the others' faces to leave it practically glowing. Minho had always found himself curious of how Jisung could be so breathtaking and still act like he didn't know it. Jisung laughed at Minho’s expression, and who was he to not join him. He would never be able to deny that the younger’s laugh was irresistible.

“Oh my god I love this song, come dance with meeee” A loud, very drunk Felix shouts, as the sunshine boy practically pulls Changbin, also a rather enthusiastic drunk, and Minho toward the dance floor. The inhuman strength of the younger when he is intoxicated is enough to somehow get his other two companions to their feet. Minho flashes an apologetic glance and an extra squeeze to Jisung’s hand at being physically yanked from their little moment.

Jisung, understanding enough, just laughs at Felix’s drunk antics and motions for them to go ahead. Leaving him at the booth with a drunk Chan who is currently holding some “deep” conversation with a very tipsy Hyunjin. Seems Chan’s dad-like charms had gotten the princely boy to open up to him. This night had definitely ended up different than Jisung had first though but he'd be lying to say he wasn’t enjoying all of it.

“Han Jisung.”

Jisung looked up to find Sweet Lotus’s owner giving him an inviting expression. He couldn’t lie that Momo did not scare him a little. But he would say that if anything he just respectfully found her to be intimidating.

“Oh hai.” Jisung tried his best to sober up and put on a friendly face.

“Would you come with me for a moment?” Jisung nodded and got up from their table following the woman to a somewhat quieter area of the clubs open concept near some standing tables.

“So. I’m happy to see you are what's keeping my Lino so busy.” Her friendly smile grew wide.

“What me? No Minho has just been working hard on his other job. He also has auditions and dance and everything.”

“Hmmm, I don't know. Minho has always had a lot on his plate, but I’ve never seen him actually look this happy.”

“Really?” Jisung had never really considered how much Minho could have changed because of him. He didn't know much of Minho’s past. Before they had talked he was simply the nice attractive waiter he had given his number to.

Jisung’s shock was clearly evident on his face, and Momo’s eyes softened at the confused, small, and slightly tipsy boy in front of her.

“Really I mean it, and if anyone would know it's me.” Jisung relaxed visibly, but still held on to his apprehension.

“Jisung, I know you're a good kid. Sana’s told me a lot about you boys and she really swears by it. That you're something special, and I can see it too.” Jisung’s heart lifted in his chest a little with pride for his group. But Momo’s expression remained serious.

“But to me, Minho is truly something special, and I feel like you already know that”

“I knew immediately.” He nodded aggressively, and spoke freely with his filters gone due to the alcohol. Momo giggled at Jisung’s honesty.

“You're such a sweetheart Jisung, but I want to give you some advice about Minho.”

Jisung nodded enthusiastically.

“Minho may be the shining gem he seems to be, but he's also fragile. He's not always as confident as he appears, and can be really stubborn.”

Momo’s expression grew somber for a moment before continuing, “What I’m trying to say is look out for him. Please. He’s placed a lot of faith in you already. So be sure to take care of him, and don't let him push you away. He's a fool with his emotions, especially when he's scared.”

Jisung could feel the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders, but it was a weight he wanted to be worthy of bearing for Minho.

“I’m trusting you here Jisung-ah, Minho stopped letting me take care of him a long time ago, and I'm afraid he's been on his own for longer than he should to be. I would love to see you continue to make him happy.” Momo’s smile was full of fondness now, but something about it was still slightly somber.

Jisung didn't want to let her trust in him go to waste. “I always want to be by Minho-hyung’s side, I promise to do my best Momo-ssi”

Momo laughs with her slightly disarming giggles, her expression visibly relaxing back into a friendly smile. “Sana’s right you really don’t know how powerful you are.”

“What do you mean?” Jisung was confused at the sudden change in conversation but he found Momo’s change in demeanor to be comforting that she believed in him, at least a little bit, to heed her warnings.

“She means you're too cute for your own good.” Minho voiced from just behind Jisung, making his head turn quick enough to catch Minho draping his arm around the younger’s shoulders.

“Noona are you done terrorizing my Sungie now?”

“I would never! Right Jisung~” Momo winked her eyes playfully in response.

Jisung tried his best to cover up his confusion, and flashed his most convincing innocent puppy dog eyes, “Yeah hyung we were just talking.”

“About me I hope.” Minho giggled at them both, only slurring his words slightly. Turning his head toward Jisung, leaving barely two inches between their faces. But alcohol has a funny way of erasing their usual personal boundaries.

“Well I'm stealing you away now, less talky and more dancy for the birthday boy.” Minho giggled more and Jisung felt his heart leap in response, as he moved the two of them toward the dance floor.

“Have fun boys~” Momo waved and watched them disappear into the crowd with a hopeful smile on her face.

---

The night progressed full of dancing, longing stares, and being too close to each other for it to be considered friendly. Eventually the pair’s roommates had headed home or disappeared off for the night, leaving Minho and Jisung alone in the pink neon lights of the Sweet Lotus. Jisung’s night out had been everything he could’ve hoped for and more. It took more effort than either of them would like to admit to let go of each other's hand once they had to depart for the night.

Almost every part of Jisung was screaming for him to not let the other leave, and that he should stay. But both of them knew that the morning would just bring them more work, that sadly didn't leave room for long morning’s together.

But If Jisung was only able to let go of Minho’s hand after the older had to let it go in order to cup his cheek instead, and give him with a gentle kiss goodnight, that was between the two of them as far as Jisung was concerned. And if Jisung went to bed smiling like a fool with red cheeks and red lips then that was for only him to know. And if Minho’s smile mirrored Jisung’s while he stayed up thinking about pink lights and heart shaped smiles, then that was only his to know.

-----

Thank you for reading ily <3

one ~ two ~ three ~ four ~ five ~ six ~ seven ~ eight ~ nine

#skz fics #stray kids au #stray kids fic #stray kids #minsung #han jisung #lee minho #leeknow #skz leeknow #skz han

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sargentr · 5 years ago

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my fave drarry fics of all time, part one

so, after discovering i’ve officially been reading drarry fanfic for 4 years now, i decided to show my (quite big) list of favorite drarry fics. there are 46 in total, but i’ve listed 10 down below. the first three are my absolute favorites but the rest are equally as good

most of my notes are fresh from when i wrote them post-reading. i’ve changed some, seeming less like a crazy unstable bitch, but fuck these were all emotional as fuck. enjoy

ps: i dont really know how to tag people i dont follow. i cant try and tag the authors later. soz!!

pps: most of these i read when i was really into a bottom!draco phase, so most of them contain that, some are switch tho (as it should be, yikes past me)

1. Everything That Happen is From Now On / ~43K

After surviving a brutal assault, Draco tries to navigate the tumultuous waters of his mind, and embrace a bit of love and trust in his life. After all, the smallest steps forward can begin to heal the most fractured of souls

okay so before i get in to how beautiful this story is, i wanna say that it does touch on rape quite explicitly. i cried like an idiot reading the entire thing, because draco’s pain is navigated in the most beautiful and realistic way. it touches on a subject very risky for me, very personal, and i still can’t think of a better drarry story. draco’s very draco about it all, and harry is very harry about it all. it’s just perfect, and messy, and tender, and sad. i’ve reread it more than any other fic, and it doesn’t disappoint.

2. Pocket Full of Starlight / ~46K

When Scorpius Malfoy and Jamie Potter meet at Quidditch camp, they take an instant dislike to each other. Then they discover their lives are more connected than they could possibly imagine.

ah yes. the magic of kid fics. the TASTE

parent trap au. i read this one recently, like 3 months back, and absolutely fell in love with everything about it, partially because the parent trap is legit one of my top 10 favorite movies of all time. its just. the essence, the IDEA, is soooo mf beautiful. i cant get enough of reading when harry or draco finally meet the other twin, or how they cant stop loving each other even after 11 years. my heart clenched throughout the whole thing.

3. Temptations on the Warfront / ~180K

Draco Malfoy is forced into hiding with the Golden Trio and dragged into their search for horcruxes. What ensues is a journey of redemption, unexpected friendships and an unwanted, turbulent romance with Harry Potter. Warnings for swearing, sexual content, and dark themes.

this was the first drarry fic ive ever read, and before this mf i HATEDDD this pairing. so you can imagine how much it took to convince me otherwise, bc i was 100% scorbus before this.

to be fair, horcrux hunting with draco involved is, possibly, my favorite trope ever. its unique. theres tension, both sexual and life threatening. in some ways it romanticizes the war, but fuck it it aint a real war.

slowest of burns. amazing. life changing. long as hell. nothing else to be said except read it right now i demand it.

4. Clouding the Senses / ~58K

As everyone returns to Hogwarts for a final eighth year, some people are coping better with the aftermath of the war than others. After encountering a very drunk Draco Malfoy one night, Harry realises that maybe those that lost loved ones aren’t the only ones trying to escape the war. Blaise Zabini seems to think Harry can help Malfoy, that the Slytherin might actually listen to him. Harry is not so sure. Dependence is a tricky thing, and one addiction can quickly shift to another.

everyone that reads drarry loves 8th year fics, but this ones just kinda different from all those normal (yet entertaining) ones. draco’s an alcoholic in this, and one night harry tries to help him and whoops, one thing leads to the other and they start having casual sex. its really, really amazing how both draco and harry navigate the addiction, i really cant say it has any flaws.

i know the author got a lot of hate on their fics and thats why they took them down, but they’re truly one of the best drarry authors out there. i’ve reread this a couple of times, and the tenderness, the love and confusion is all very on character. a+

5. Restraint / ~153K

Someone casts the Imperius curse on Draco Malfoy, and whatever the instructions may be, Harry finds himself an unwilling target. The encounter leaves him torn between pleasure and revulsion. As they fight in the aftermath, a tense game begins. Harry fights to convince Malfoy, and himself, that he was not affected by that initial encounter, or any of those following it.

Faced with a series of escalating encounters, Harry must come to terms with desiring things he never thought he could, things he wishes he didn’t respond to. They each use signs of arousal as weapons against each other in a mad struggle to finally shame the other into backing down for good.

But it’s only after the game is over that Harry starts to understand.

this is by the same author of clouding the senses, and i read this just this week. at first, it’s shocking, because it plays around with consent in a very unsettling way. when communication comes in, and its starts getting healthier, you can really understand where the author found the idea of playing with consent. it is, in my opinion, 100% characteristic of how they would behave post-war, with that grief and confusion. it’s also dom/sub in some parts, and that’s mf hot.

it also has my favorite tropes in it, but it’s a spoiler to say which one. i’ll probably mention the trope in the list along with a bunch others, but when u finish reading you’ll know which one ;)

6. Humbug / ~30K

Draco has been taking his casual relationship with Harry for granted. Visits from four key ghosts the night before Christmas just might shake up his priorities in life.

(felt like it was valid to just paste what i wrote in my notes app after reading this)

(FUCKKKKKK HOW TO EVEN START?!!!?? just a fucking bonus, draco is THE best bottom o ever exist i love my bottom son so much. this story isnt only amazing it’s excruciatingly painful to read, harry and draco have been sleeping together but harry is completely in love with him. draco doesnt see how much harry cares for him or how much hes hurting harry by treating their fling like its just that, a FLING. with that, draco is haunted by three ghosts. one of the past, the present and the future, AND THEY SET THAT IDIOT STRAIGHTTTT 1800000/10. the gays DO KEEP MF WINNING!!!

7. in your arms, rests my world / ~24K

Harry presses his mouth to Malfoy's forehead; he wants to tell him that he’ll never leave, that he wouldn’t dream of it.

“You make me feel safe, Potter” Malfoy whispers. “You keep me safe.”

the friends with benefits trope doesnt ever disappoint, top 5 tropes fr, especially if its also 8th year. harry and draco get into their little thing, but of course nothing ever is simple between them. by the preview, you can clearly see how much draco likes harry (also another 10/10 trope, the ‘i’ve been in love with harry potter since i was 11′ one). my only tiny issue with this is that harry fucks it up just a tad, but it of course adds up to the drama of it all, which i absolutely love.

noting it also touches on non-con/rape and, and all in all, is extremely angsty. one i was tense from beginning to end. but i am gonna say it ends amazingly and v happily.

8. Playing the Hero / ~29K

Nobody kissed me like Harry did. He kissed like he flew; he kissed like he duelled - with his whole being, not caring about anything else. I had never felt as vulnerable as I did when he kissed me, seizing all and any control I had over myself. But when Harry kissed me, I felt free...

so the thing about angst is that it ignites that mf feeling side u that even tho it hurts you cannot get enough of. this fic was EVERYTHINGGG. it made cry and laugh and smile. also another trope i absolutely adore is them breaking up and not being 100% ok with that, bc ding ding!! YALL STILL LOVE EACH OTHER!!

i cant describe how i felt, honestly. i would just paste my notes (i wont bc spoilers) but it looks like i went thru sum shit. deadass

9. fine i’ll hold my breath / till i forget it’s complicated / ~ 15K with the two parts

Harry and Draco become friends with benefits, and Harry thinks it's more complicated than it actually is.

u know, fluff is a drug. i dont know if its beucase 90% of drarry fics are about angsty get-togethers, but i had butterflies in my stomach when i read this. its adorable. draco is so clearly in love, he jusT SMILES A LOT I CANTTT.

its cute. i love it to death. have some fluff before starting your day.

10. Un Noël très parisien / ~14K

When Draco crossed paths with Auror Potter at a political function in Paris, he was not expecting their former animosity to change into something rather more intriguing. But he could be certain their casual flirtation would not last more than the night, couldn't he?

look. i know i named a lot of my favorite tropes here, but i cant end this without mentioning how much single dad draco affects me. i love scorpius and how much he changes draco in every fic he appears. i love parent draco and i shant be silent about it (especially when scorpius is legit just a year old in this. i died)

as it states, harry and draco have a one night stand but draco thinks thats it, that it was all he was ever gonna have. he’s wrong of course, and the path it takes, with both scorpius and harry there, just melted my mf heart.

well kids that’s all i have for now. imma work on a part two with 10 other fics i really love!1

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fanfiction #draco malfoy #harry potter #gay #mlm #fanfiction #scorpius malfoy #albus potter #lgbtq fanfiction

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