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bump1nthen1ght · 4 years ago

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I’m Still Hurting (F!Reader/M!Orc)

Pairings: Fem!Reader/Male!Orc

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Angst

Warnings: (Almost) Infidelity

Word Count: 3376 words

Summary: Your boyfriend does something he’d never thought he’d do, and you’re left to try and pick up the pieces.

Request: can I make a request? About an angst story between an m!orc and f!human. I like the idea of like maybe the orc sorta misses being with other orc women or like she can't fulfill his needs and she hears this. I like the idea of almost infidelity

A/N: Surprise bitches! I’m alive! And back with some delicious angst for y’all!! I really loved doing this request, as I don’t often write full on angst. I am also working on a fluffy request at the moment, if some of you would like some nice comfort after this haha. Hope y’all enjoy!

Honey ❤️: Babe

Honey ❤️: Babe please answer the phone I need to talk to you

Honey ❤️: I know you’re angry, you should be angry, but please talk to me

Honey ❤️: Baby please

“____? Is that my phone?” Brynn yells from the kitchen, already mixing another cocktail for you to down. Her bright red horns peek over the living room divider, bouncing back as she grabs the alcohol from the fridge. Still looking at your bright screen, you don’t even have the energy to respond.

“____?” You throw your phone away as she peaks her head over, giving her a shameful look. Brynn furrows her brow, pulling away from the kitchen island and putting one hand on her hip. “Was that him?” With your eyes darting back and forth from the pillow you shoved your phone under and Brynn’s face, you nod.

“Y-yeah, it was him.”

Brynn sighs, fiddling with her hands.

“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what to do, especially not tonight, but I just think-”

“No, no, it’s alright. You’re right, you’re right.” A jolt hits you as your phone vibrates, the vibrations rumbling through the fabric and stabbing right into your stomach. You force yourself to look away, fiddling with your fingers. Brynn shoots you a pitiful look, you’re sure of it, even as your efuse to meet her gaze. “I shouldn’t talk to him tonight. Not right now, not when I’m like….this.” A slow, tired breath escapes you. “I’ll make him wait, just like he did.”

The coach cushion bends as Brynn sits next to you, rubbing your shoulder as she leans in for a side each. You accept it, your body like a deadweight as you let yourself go slack in her arms.

“Do you want anything? Chocolate, maybe a movie? I’ve got some leftover cheesecake?”

“A movie sounds nice.” You murmur, nodding against her chest. Brynn hums, her tail coming up and massaging your lower back as she kisses you on the forward.

“Of course, your choice. Do you want me to get your drink?”

You nod once more, letting Brynn untangle herself from the hug and laying back on the couch, grabbing the comfiest blanket and the remote. You quickly flick through you and Brynn’s ‘most watched’ section on Netflix. You need something new tonight, something to get your mind off.

All your regular comfort movies are romances, after all.

By the time Brynn comes back, a rum and coke and a carton of ice cream in hand, you’re already snuggled into a blanket burrito. She hands you a spoon and the glass, which you wordlessly accept. She sits down and throws a hand over your shoulder, trying her best to massage the left over tension in your neck. You sink into the feeling, pressing on your movie of choice.

“Mad Max: Fury Road, huh? I’ve heard this movie’s great.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, “It is.”

And chocked full of shitty men getting what they deserve.

As the opening title plays, the deep voice of Tom Hardy kicking the movie off, you snuggle into Brynn’s side. Your phone buzzes again, but it’s drowned out by screaming men and loud engines. Just how you like it.

Honey ❤️: Could you call me in the morning?

Honey ❤️: I’ll leave you alone for the night, I’m sorry

Honey ❤️: I love you

--------

Waruck sighs, his fingers shaking as another small ‘message delivered’ shows up on his screen. No response, just like the last 15 texts. He finds himself typing out another anyway.

I love you so fucking much

It reads, but is quickly deleted. Waruck clicks off his phone, but it stays in his hand, taunting him. The black mirror shows a sad, pathetic boyfriend, getting the silent treatment.

He falls back onto his bed, exhausted from a day of doing nothing. Nothing but worrying and feeling guilty, with the occasional flicking through TV channels and texting his girlfriend.

It’s getting late, his bedside clock cutting through the dark of his room to remind him he’s been up for almost 16 hours now. Waruck slides a hand through his hair and gets up. He’s going to have to camp out in front of the TV, because he knows he won’t be able to sleep tonight.

Not after what he did.

--------

He had gone out with friends. Friends from highschool who he still occasionally chatted with, friends he didn’t even really like anymore. But the past two weeks had him feeling oddly...nostalgic, like something was out of place. So when his buddy Simon had invited him to the bar, he had eagerly accepted.

He remembers grabbing his coat, you sending him a text to have fun, and him not replying. He didn’t know why he didn’t respond, he still doesn’t. The two of you had been going strong for almost 8 months now, with only the occasional hiccup that most couples have. So why didn’t he respond? What made him casually throw your sweet remark to the side like that?

Waruck shakes his head, trying to focus on the movie in front of him. Now isn’t the time to get existential over tiny shit like that, not with how the rest of the night went.

When he met up with the group, Waruck immediately knew that tonight was going to be different. His current group of friends are quite different, less rowdy, than his old posse. At only 10 PM, three of the guys we’re already halfway drunk, saving a spot in line from him outside the noisy bar. The electronic music that thrummed through the concrete and out onto the street reminded him of how much time has passed, how different his usual party-scene is now, and he revels in that feeling of former good-times.

Simon greets him with a hug, the guys shouting his name as he joins them. From the corner of his eye, he sees a gaggle of girls giggling.

And that's where it started.

An orc woman, dressed in a beautiful black dress, winks as she passes him at the bar. Simon nudges his side as Waruck takes a drink.

“Dude, that chick is totally sending you the look”

Waruck furrows his brow, stirring his drink.

“What’s ‘the look’?” He says, taking another sip of his scotch.

Simon rolls his eyes. “The ‘come hit on me’ look dude! That’s the sign you need to go for it!”

“I have a girlfriend, Simon.”

Simon scoffs, throwing his hand out dramatically. “What, that human chick?”

Waruck has half of mind to set down his drink and ask Simon what he means with that sarcastic tone of voice. It pisses him off, but he says nothing, just rolls his eyes.

“No offense, bro, she looks cute and all. But is she really worth missing out on some great ass?”

Waruck grimaces and shoots Simon a dirty look. “Jesus, Simon, are you serious?”

“I’m serious! When was the last time you had fun, y’know? Everyone knows an orc chick can throw down, wild-style.” Simon nudges him in his side, playfully, but it only serves to make Waruck more annoyed. “C’mon, you seriously don’t miss it?”

Waruck should tell him a firm ‘No’, finish his drink, and leave. He should call a cab and go home, call you and rant about his gross misogynistic friend from high school.

But he doesn’t.

The part of him, the part of him that feels slightly off, wonders if this is it. It had been a long time since he had been with another orc. You were a great girlfriend, but so different from in so many ways. Is that it?

Maybe relieving the old days will satisfy whatever longing he has, and then it will leave forever. Would that be so bad, to let loose for one night?

Waruck feels a tap on his shoulder, and turns to see the orc girl from earlier; The one who sent him ‘the look’.

“Hey handsome, can I buy you a drink?”

Between the boosted bass of the music and the orc woman pressing up against him, Waruck doesn’t notice Simon slip away, giving him a pat on the back.

Leave, say no, tell her she’s got the wrong guy, you fucking idiot. His consciousness yells.

“U-uh, sure.” He stutters.

She introduces herself as Naz and says she noticed him the minute he walked in.

“Hard not to notice the best-dressed guy in the room.” She flirts, pressing herself closer and up against him.

He has a thousand little moments like that, to say something; To pull back and apologize, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he slips into a corner booth with her, purposely ignoring the texts you send to check up on him. You had remembered that he wasn’t sure how much fun this night would be, and routinely checked in if he needed a convenient excuse to leave early. You’re sweet like that.

Naz is sweet too. She's a great conversationalist, with a good head on her shoulders and an interesting career in zoology. Waruck could see the two of you being good friends.

Is that why she seems so alluring? Because she’s so similar to you? Waruck’s mind does mental gymnastics to try and justify his hesitance, his compliance in believing that maybe she has something different after all, even though he knows that isn��t true.

The two of them talk for a solid hour and a half, Naz slowly inching herself closer and putting a hand on his knee. His body screams in resistance, his stomach tying up into knots, but he doesn’t push her away.

“So, I’ve got a room not too far from here. What do you say we go make ourselves a bit more comfortable?”

This is his final chance to find an excuse and say goodnight. To run back home and forget this ever happened. But the words are caught in his throat and he’s further silenced by the nearby whooping of his asshole friends.

“Yeah, Waruck! Get some!”

Naz chuckles and mistakenly reads his seething anger at himself with embarrassment for his friends. She leans in, grabbing his jaw, and whispers.

“Let's give them a show, huh?” Then, she kisses him.

The noises of the bar, his friends, and Naz all drown away as her lips mold into his. Waruck’s body goes rigid, terrified as time seems to freeze as he kisses someone who is not his girlfriend.

But all of that stops when your ringtone begins to blast in his pocket. It should be near silent when compared to the pounding bar music, but that familiar jingle seems to cut deep into his skin and skewer his heart. Waruck pulls away with a quick jerk, Naz almost falling over as he pushes himself into his seat and away from her body-heat. Every nerve is a light with tension as he quickly pulls out his phone.

There on the screen is a picture of you, your contact name, “Sweetie❤️”, shining through the dimmed light of that bar. Waruck breathes heavily, feeling like he’s just run an emotional marathon, stuck in his own head until Naz slides away from him.

“Wait, hold on, do you have a girlfriend?”

Waruck looks at her, then looks at his still-ringing phone, then back to Naz. He nods.

Naz's face curls up into obvious disgust, quickly directing her body to be as far away from him as possible. “Fucking hell, dude. What the fuck?” She grabs her handbag and stomps out of the booth, not before throwing her drink in his face and telling him to go to hell.

He almost watches her move across the bar, most likely to go complain to her friends about the asshole she just wasted the last 2 hours chatting up, but all he can focus on is your picture on his phone.

--------

Waruck practically runs out of the bar, his whole body covered in sweat and his mind racing a mile a minute.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He felt like a 15 year old, goaded into another shitty prank just because he wanted to look cool in front of his friends, buying into their weird bullshit about humans. Was he seriously going to throw away your wonderful relationship over one night, over one urge?

Naz had been strikingly beautiful, in all the ways he was taught an orc like himself should look for. She could probably get any guy in that club tonight, but she wasn’t you. You’re different, but in so many cool, inconsequential, uniquely-you ways.

Waruck doesn’t know how long he walks before he sits down outside a cafe, trying to collect his racing emotions. He feels gross, sticky with the kind of sweat you only get after too much alcohol and too many people. The screen of his phone seems to reflect every smudge and finger-print as he swipes it to unlock it, finally getting the courage to read your text messages.

They start off normal, spread out over several hours. The occasional “How are the guys?” and “Hope you are having fun! Just let me know when you get home safe.” before dropping off into nothing. Right up until 20 minutes ago, where you send a short and curt text that has his heart dropping to his stomach.

Sweetie❤️: Can you call me right now?

Sweetie❤️: Waruck, I need to talk to you

Sweetie❤️: Are you still at the bar?

After that is a notification of your missed call from earlier and Waruck can’t help but feel guilt stir in his gut.

It could be nothing, something unrelated to what he almost did tonight. But the notification he gets from his Instagram says otherwise. It says a mutual of his tagged him in a photo 30 minutes ago.

Waruck feels like vomiting when he opens up Simon’s story and sees a shaky picture of Naz, draped over him in the corner booth, with him looking all too happy to have her there. The caption reads

“At least someone’s getting lucky tonight 🤣🤣 #BoysNight20XX”

But what comes next is even worse; An even blurrier photo of Naz kissing him, both of their eyes closed as she almost sits in his lap.

Waruck can’t even look at the caption, quickly exiting out of the app and calling you.

He needs to explain himself.

But what will he say?

The phone rings, rings, rings….

Waruck waits with bated breath, thinking you’re going to let it go to voicemail, but you answer. There is no cheerful “Hi Babe” or even a tired and drawn-out “Hey.” Instead all Waruck hears is a shaky sigh, waiting for an explanation.

The words stay caught in Warucks throat, trying to find a way to maneuver and swing around to a solid excuse, a lie he hopes you won’t catch.

But he can’t, he can’t. Not to you.

So you make it easy for him, like you always do, and start the conversation off instead.

“Were you flirting with that girl?”

Waruck’s mind doesn’t give him a choice, the truth already spilling out like a tidal wave.

“Yes.”

Waruck hears you suck in a breath, before you shakily ask once more,

“Did you kiss her? Did you kiss her back?”

“Yes.”

There's 15 seconds of brutal silence as Waruck sits with his confession. In the moment, Waruck feels like he can hear your pounding heartbeat through the receiver.

You hang up.

---------

You hate the weather outside for two reasons.

One: You had far too much rum last night to enjoy any amount of sunlight. And,

Two: On a terrible morning like this one, it feels unfair that there aren't any dramatic thunder storms.

The bell rings on the cafe door as you walk in, causing you to wince as you pull down your sunglasses.

Thank god for the low lighting of these cafes.

You rub your brow, eyes scanning the menu above the bar. Some caffeine should do you good, at least with your headache.

But when you spot him, tucked away at a table, tapping his foot, all that aching pain seems to fall to your subconscious. Before you can meet eyes, you look away, forcing yourself to re-read the menu and blink away your tears.

You face the inevitable when you put in your order, turning to walk towards Waruck. He’s locked his gaze into the wood grain of the table, his large body hunched up and small, like he wants to sink into the shadows. He looks like shit, with large bags under his eyes and a nervous tension in his face.

He startles when you pull out a chair, sitting down across from him, but quickly curls back into his ball of shame. He looks so guilty, a small part of you wants to comfort him and tell him it’ll be alright.

You punch away that part of you with a baseball bat.

“Why did you flirt with her?”

Waruck says nothing. He looks at you with his tired eyes, big and racked with guilt.

I don’t know. They whisper.

Your fingers dig into your jeans, anger boiling up and through your nerves.

That’s not a good enough answer.

“Were you,” You suck in a breath, trying to control your volume, “Were you going to sleep with her? If I hadn’t called you, would you have-”

“No!” Waruck nearly shouts, shaking the table as his knees bang against the bottom, but he recoils once he sees the way you flinch. “No, I wasn’t going to.”

Those pesky tears press against your eyelids once more. You can feel your nails digging indents into your thighs.

“I don’t know if I can believe that.” You whisper, failing to catch the crack in your voice.

Waruck’s brow furrows as he nervously chews his bottom lip. He tries to meet your gaze, but you seem to look right through him.

“I know.” Waruck sighs, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

There's a tenuous silence; Waruck tries to find the words to fix things while you focus on the details of the cafe walls, examining every nook and cranny as you try not to sob.

“I-I understand if you don’t trust me. I understand if you hate me, or you want to break up. But please, please know that I love you, and that I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve been kicking myself over flirting with that girl because I love you so fucking much. I-”

You hold up your hand, stopping Waruck in his tracks. He realizes how loud he’s been talking and that people are beginning to stare. He huddles back into his corner, tucking his hands into his lap. You let out a long breath. Waruck takes the risk and looks up.

When his eyes finally meet yours, he realizes just how sad you look. A treacherous tear has begun falling down your cheek, sending a lightning bolt of remorse into Waruck’s chest.

You take in another deep breath, wiping away the tear with the back of your hand. You look at Waruck, exhausted.

“I don’t,” You falter, but catch yourself, “I don’t want to break up with you. I just don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you yet.”

Waruck nods, fiddling with his fingers.

“Of course, I get it-”

“I’m not done.” Waruck quickly shuts his mouth. “You hurt me, Waruck. Hurt me in a way I don’t think I’ll ever forget. So I need time. Time before I can even see you again without thinking,” You hiccup, but this time you let the wave of emotion hit you, full force. “Without thinking about that night.”

A lady calls out your order, but neither of you makes a move. You sit in each other's presence, trying to wrap yourselves around the mess of emotions, trying to read the others mind without seeming too obvious.

You both sit here, in the presence of something that's been broken, damaged in a way that’s cut the heart of your chest and slams them on the table. There’s a crack that runs down between you two, inching open more and more with each breath.

But somehow, somehow, you both think you have a chance of fixing it.

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #female reader #monster romance #orc x reader #angst #orc

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bunnyywritings · 4 years ago

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fate is great

mirio togata x gn!reader

day 4: first date

word count: 1.2k

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬; 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟑 - 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭; 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟓

[a/n: I apologize for posting this a bit late, this is my first time writing for Mirio so I hope I did him justice. I know I’m doing ‘first date’ quite a lot, I’m worried I’m boring you all but I promise the fics will get better at the month progresses -yours truly, bunnyy -`ღ´-]

First dates were always scary.

The nerves, the uncertainty, the awkwardness.

But what’s even worse than an awkward first date? Being stood up for a first date.

The waiter looked at you with pity, asking if you wanted a refill on your water and breadsticks. You nodded, muttering a quiet, “yes please.” The hope that your date would still show up dwindled as the minutes ticked by. You should’ve listened to Nejire. She warned you that this might happen but you being the stubborn person you are, you insisted on going on the date.

Another hour had gone by and you had finished your second basket of breadsticks and your fifth glass of water. Once again, the waiter approached.

“I’m so sorry to do this but my manager said that if you don’t order anything, we’re going to have to ask you to give up the table.” His voice was thick with empathy, the frown on his face showed that he really didn’t want to do this to you.

“N-No no, it’s okay. I’ll just go.” You whispered pathetically, gathering yourself before getting up to leave.

“Once again, I’m so sorry. Have a good night.”

As you walked out, Mirio couldn’t help but feel like he had seen you somewhere before. You were sitting alone at a booth when he had come in for lunch. He would glance at you from time to time, watching curiously as you constantly checked your watch or attempted a phone call that always resulted in a disappointed huff from your lips and a frown as you hung up and placed your phone back on the table. Once he saw the waiter approach your table the second time, he had just paid for his check. Determined, he made a decision as you walked past. Getting up hastily and walking out after you. You were stood on the cub, eyes scanning the busy street for an available cab.

Subtly standing a few feet from you, he saw a few tears tread down your cheeks that were tinged red from the chilly wind. His heart constricted in his chest. Someone as stunning as you were shouldn’t be shedding tears over someone that didn’t deserve them. Digging through his pocket, he grabbed a spare tissue he had and approached you.

“Rough day?” He asked softly, so as not to startle you, and held the tissue out to you.

At the sound of someone beside you, you turned to see a very charming blond. A small smile on his face as he offered you a tissue.

“Uhm yeah, I guess so.” You reached out and grabbed the tissue. “Thank you.” You whispered, bringing the soft handkerchief to your eyes and wiped your tears, blowing out a bit of snot that had started to leak from your nose. “I was supposed to meet up with someone for a first date but they bailed on me and didn’t even let me know.”

“Well it’s their loss.” He responded quickly, the fact that there was no hesitation in his words surprised you. A complete stranger was angry for you. “They’re not worth your tears.”

“I- well thank you, really. That’s very kind of you.”

There was a silence between the two of you before a light bulb went off in Mirio’s head, eyes glinted with excitement before he turned to you once more.

“Let’s go on a date!”

“W-What?!” Your eyes were basically bulging out of your head.

“Yeah! I’ll take you on a first date!”

“But you’re a complete stranger!” He continued to smile at you. “You could be some psycho murderer, for all I know!”

“Oh I can assure you that I am not a psycho murderer.”

“...”

He was really cute and a bit intriguing. What’s the worst that can happen?

“Okay.” You sighed, taking a chance on this random guy.

“Great! How does the amusement park sound?” If he were a dog, his tail would be wagging.

“Amusement park?” You asked. You were well into your 20s...you had absolutely no business going to an amusement park.

“Yeah! Of course! Sounds fun doesn’t it?”

His optimism was infectious, you found yourself slowly starting to smile. “I guess it does.”

With an excited shout, he flagged down a cab. Opening the door for you as it pulled up to the curb, following you into the backseat and settling in.

“So, what’s someone like you doing being stood up by some blind jerk?”

“Blind idiot?”

“Well yeah, they’d have to be blind not to see how stunning you are and they’d also have to be a complete jerk to stand someone up.” His words were somewhat comforting and slightly overwhelming as you found yourself flushing red at his compliment.

“O-oh well I uh, I don’t know. I mean, I can’t say I really liked them. We matched online. My friend told me not to waste my time but I didn’t listen to her.”

“Smart friend.”

“Yeah, Nejire’s always been able to see the true intentions of people.” His eyes widened at your words.

“Hey! I know Nejire!”

Slightly startled by his sudden eureka, your eyes widened. “You do?”

“Yeah! We went to the same high school and she’s dating my buddy-”

“Tamaki.” Your voice echoed his as you chuckled in disbelief.

“Wow, small world.”

As the cab ride went on, the two of you started to get to know each other and you found yourself getting more and more excited for this ‘date.’

Wind whipped around in your ears as excited shouts and squeals left his and your lips, the roller coaster twisting and winding in ways you didn’t think were possible. The day had been very eventful. The both of you boarding multiple roller coasters and playing a few carnival games. Filling your bellies with funnel cake and nacho fries before excitedly boarding another ride.

The date was a slightly cheesy one but you had actually found yourself falling for this random guy that you met today. Well not random, Nejire’s boyfriend’s friend.

His smiles and laughter had set your heart ablaze, and you couldn't tell if the butterflies you were feeling was from the adrenaline rush of the roller coaster or if it was the way your hand fit perfectly in his. You also found yourself getting quite sad as the day had started to come to an end. The sun swapping places with the moon as the both of you boarded the final ride.

The ferris wheel.

It felt like the cliche scene of a romance novel or movie, and as the wheel slowly moved and your seat made it way to the top, his hand squeezed yours gently to grab your attention.

“You know (y/n), I didn’t believe in love at first sight until this afternoon when I saw you waiting at that table.” He swallowed the lump of nerves in his throat as his heart pounded so hard, he heard it in his ears. “Maybe it was fate that I chose to eat at lunch the same restaurant your date was at. Do you believe in fate?”

His eyes met yours and time stopped.

Your eyes were alluring as they reflected the beautiful gleam of the stars in the night sky, the moonlight illuminated your features in the most ethereal way and he couldn’t help but admire you.

“Now I do.”

He closed his eyes as you leaned forward, meeting his lips in a chaste, timid kiss. A giddy chuckle left his lips as he pulled you into his arms and pressed a few kisses to your lips.

Best first date ever.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (open):@soul-of-rwby @randomesk-yuku @angeltsukkis

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x gn!reader #mha x gn!reader #mirio togata x reader #mirio x reader #lemillion x reader #mirio togata x gn!reader #mirio x gn!reader #fluffvember #fluffvember 2020

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thorne93 · 4 years ago

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History Repeats (Part 11)

Prompt: Life’s hard, right? Well throw in a not so great job, a broken heart, and chasing a pipe dream in LA. But could someone come along to make all the bad shit disappear? Or is he just another heartbreak waiting around the bend?

Warnings: language, drug addiction, alcohol addiction, angst/heartbreak, adult themes (??)

Word Count: 1818

Note: Aesthetic made by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo because she’s absolutely amazing Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo . Brainstorming from @carryonmyswansong

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hayden,” you said jovially as he covered your eyes, “where are we going?” you demanded playfully.

“Just a few more steps, please,” he requested, just behind you.

A week had passed since Hayden had asked you out, trying to find a day that your schedules lined up. Now he’d had you blindfolded since you left the house, and when you got out of the car, he had you walking, covering your eyes with his hands now.

You thought you could hear water, you could hear people chatting, you could hear birds, you could hear...something hitting something, like wood on wood.

You had no idea where you were. Your best guess was a pier. Maybe he was taking you fishing.

“Okay, open,” Hayden quietly said and you slowly opened your eyes, the sunlight stinging at first as you looked around. You were at some sort of dock, with several gondolas.

“What is this?” you asked, looking at your surroundings with question.

“Come on,” he said with a shy smile as he gestured for you to follow him, holding out his hand. “It’s a gondola ride,” he informed. “I thought instead of the typical dinner date, since we eat dinner all the time together, this might be a little more...fun.”

“I’ve never been on a boat before,” you softly murmured.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” he noted. “I’ll be there, not that that’s much comfort,” he teased.

You scrunched your nose at him as he pulled you along to the rental booth, stating he had a reservation. After confirming all the details, they got your boat setup, a gondolier joining you.

“After this, I thought we could grab lunch at a really small out of the way place I have in mind, if that’s okay with you?” he asked, seeming a little nervous.

Grinning at him, you nodded. “Of course, whatever you want.”

The two of you drifted for a little bit before the inevitable conversation started. You had started with talking about a couple of things you’d seen in the news, giving your opinion on it. Hayden agreed mostly with your views, offering questions or comments here and there. After a while, the conversation had steered from new to embarrassing moments that you’d had. You had recounted a time of being hotel manager that you’d walked in on a couple in a rather...explicit scene.

“Oh my God,” Hayden said while laughing heartily. “You didn’t. Didn’t you knock?”

“I did! I thought I heard them say ‘Come in’ but I was mistaken. They had said, ‘Come on’...” you said, your cheeks blazing as you covered your face with your hands, laughing from the tale.

“Not sure if that’s as bad as me walking in on Natalie during dress change for Star Wars,” he commented.

Your face went into shock as your mouth formed an O. “Oh no. Oh god. How did that happen?! You’re not serious. You’re messing with me,” you accused.

He shook his head as he bit his bottom lip, chuckling. “Nope, not joking. It was, uh, it was...we were getting changed for one of the scenes. I thought I’d stop by to ask her her opinion on one of our next scenes. Her door was cracked open so I thought it was okay -- because she typically cracked the door when she was reading lines. I walked in and she was only halfway dressed.”

“Oh no!” you said, laughing. “Was she mad?”

Hayden shook his head. “No. She actually thought it was funny. I didn’t see anything but her back, but it still made it awkward for me for a while. She said that she thought she’d shut her door. The two of us eventually had a good laugh about it, but I thought I was a deadman when i opened that door.”

“Oh, aw,” you cooed sympathetically with a laugh.

The two of you continued your sweet, blissful ride, swapping humiliating stories, reminiscing about hilarious childhood memories. The ride was so fun and light, the two of you laughing as you continued talking, learning about one another, and for you, falling more in love with him. Hayden truly was so sweet, level headed, down to earth, and yet, he had so many reasons that he could be totally full of himself.

A few times, he asked you to elaborate or explain more about yourself, seemingly enthralled in your boring, mediocre life. The ride came to an end after a while, the two of you thanking your gondolier as you climbed out. He drove you over to a quaint cafe that was actually situated back in an alley. You had to go between two buildings, past a gorgeous courtyard, and then into the actual cafe. The two of you ordered and went back out to the courtyard and sat in the shade, continuing your conversation, learning all about each other.

The two of you touched a little on your personal lives. He told you about his parents, his sisters, diving into their relationship, and you loved and admired how highly he spoke of them. He was proud and impressed by all their accomplishments and it was wonderful to see that in a man. A huge turn off for you was someone who didn’t like their family. You offered up some about yourself as well, going into your childhood, your home life.

At first, you weren’t sure that dating would be different from being friends, but quickly, you realized it was. Questions went from “What do you want for dinner?” to “What was your favorite meal growing up?” It felt backwards, to live together, to get used to each other domestically, and then start dating and learning about each other. But in one way, it got the worst part of the relationship out of the way. You weren’t learning about him in his everyday life, the two of you were trying to learn about each other, treading the waters to see if you had chemistry, anything to bond you two.

Sure, as friends, as roommates, it was a pretty good time, but you’d seen before where friendships work, but the romance didn’t. In this case, you were praying that wasn’t true. And thus far, it proved not to be a problem. The two of you not finding anything you would consider a red flag or a deal breaker.

All too soon, the date was over and the two of you went back home to go back to living life as you had. You had some errands to run, as did Hayden, in different areas all over the city so you went your separate ways, the entire time mulling over the date, feeling giddy, excited and hopeful for the whole thing.

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

A few days after your date, you were working your normal shift. Getting lost in paperwork, you were standing at the check in counter, the lobby completely empty, and you began to sing without thinking. Seeing as it was rather late, and you didn’t expect anyone to come around, you were humming a few bars of your own song when a man approached the counter, but you didn’t hear him.

Not paying much attention, you continued singing when the man finally cleared his throat.

“Excuse me,” he softly said, making you jump.

You looked up and apologized, seeing a heavy set, middle-aged man leaning with one arm on the counter.

“Oh, sir, I’m so sorry,” you apologized quickly, getting red-faced.

“Not a problem. You have a good set of pipes on you,” he said, and you thanked him. “Typically, I don’t do this, but your voice...I’d like to work with you.” He pulled out his wallet and handed you a business card. “I’m Trey Corzon.”

“Trey Corzon?” you asked, fangirling and starstruck. Trey was one of the biggest names in music right now. The hottest names were popping up, and his name was all over them as the producer.

“I’m a music producer. I was wondering if you’d like to give me a call sometime? Maybe we can work out some time in a booth. If you’d like,” he offered.

“I would love to,” you nearly shrieked.

“Do you have any demos?”

“Uh, yes, actually! I’ve got one with four tracks. Give me just a second and I’ll go get them,” you said just before you ran off to your office, grabbed the demo you kept on hand and raced back to him. “They’re a little rough, but I really think in the right hands, it could be something pretty special.”

He took it from you and smiled. “Thanks. I’ll give it a listen. What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/F/N,” you said slowly, to make sure he heard all of it and remembered it as he shook your hand. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Likewise, I’m sure,” he kindly said. “Well, hey, I gotta get running. Need to meet one of my artists at a release party. I’m gonna give this a listen in the next few days. Give me a ring, and we’ll set up something.”

“I will,” you promised, about to burst.

“Thanks, have a good night.”

The two of you waved as you waited until he was fully gone to do a small happy dance. You pulled out your phone and texted Hayden, telling him you had some great news.

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

Your shift finally ended and you nearly raced out of the hotel, throwing yourself into your car to speed home. As soon as you got in, Hayden’s face lit up.

“So what’s this great news?” he asked as he got up from the couch.

“I got discovered!” you nearly shouted, excitement in your face, voice, and body as you nearly jumped with glee.

“You did? That’s fantastic!” he said as he ran over to you, sweeping you into his arms and spinning you around. When he sat you down, he cupped your face, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and brought his lips to yours, fervently. A congratulatory kiss.

The kiss was swift, sweet, and punctuated with heat. When he let you go, you were breathless.

“Wow. I should get discovered more often,” you noted with bliss, your eyes still closed as he still cupped your face. He kissed your forehead and offered you to sit on the couch while he reheated leftovers for you. You told him all about it, how big of a deal it was, how excited you were.

He seemed genuinely thrilled for you, unlike Jason, who constantly told you it was a pipe dream. The two of you talked for a little while longer, you getting entirely giddy about the idea of being a singer. Eventually, the two of you needed to go to bed though, so you bid each other a goodnight and parted ways, but for the first time in a while, you felt good about the future.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forever Tag:

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Hayden Christensen:

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History Repeats:

@multifandomblog315

#history repeats #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen fic #hayden christensen

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keelywolfe · 4 years ago

Text

FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.9 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch is getting a chance to meet the local Sheriff and to say he is not excited would be an understatement.

Read chapter 9: ‘Addressing the Public’ on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

For his first day off from the grocery, today sure seemed like it was determined to make its mark so he couldn’t possibly forget it. At this point, it was about burned into Stretch’s memory, for sure.

First there was Doris who added her clues into his trick r treat bucket, then the town assholes showed up for their serial killer practice. Then, as a treat, he got to have the double punch of a lunch with Edge, a sweet and sour mixture of possibly flirtatious revelations coupled to an unwanted chat about his own traumas, served warm over some delicious pie.

Now it looked like he was about to get a sequel to the Assholes: Part Deux, the Assholes’ Revenge, in the form of a sheriff filled with blustering indignation and accusations, and all Stretch had was a mouthful of pie to defend himself. Worse, his only witness had already paid the bill and left.

Stretch swallowed his last bite, chasing it down with water when it tried to stick in the back of his throat as he went over possibilities. He could try to explain the situation, but if there was one thing he’d learned from living in Ebott, it was that if a Monster was talking to the cops, it was best to keep it short, sweet, and polite. Don’t try to explain or admit to shit, ‘cause they’d be more than happy to add another line to the list of things to harass you about.

Seriously, he missed being able to shortcut, this whole facing trouble head-on thing wasn’t for him.

The sheriff huffed again, loudly, and it fluffed up his broad mustache like a human-shaped walrus. He propped fists about the size of a baby’s head on his broad hips and growled out, “So? Is that it? You’re here startin’ some trouble in my peaceful little town?”

Stretch looked up into those mirrored sunglasses. If they were standing, Stretch would probably have a couple inches on the guy, but sitting here in the booth the sheriff loomed over him ominously, his own distorted reflection showing back his nervous face.

“no, sir,” Stretch said politely. Stick with the basic, that was good for a start, and hopefully Red would be willing to bail him out if that became necessary. At least Red wouldn’t have far to go.

The rest of the diner was staring, not a single fork was engaged as they watched the latest scene in the town drama unfold. Not that he blamed them, this was probably about the most action they’d seen in weeks, but he did sort of wish someone would be a little concerned rather than eagerly interested. Waiting to see if maybe the local sheriff was gonna slap on some cuffs so they could whip out their phones for a nice tiktok video while he was getting read his rights?

“No?” the sheriff demanded. His sunglasses reflected the overhead light, making Stretch wince back. “I heard you were out there riling up the corn yesterday. And today you were playing dog days with the doggerel boys?”

That was true, except how it wasn’t, and a trickle of sweat was winding its way down Stretch’s spine despite the air conditioning. Before he could wheeze out another ‘no sir’ or any other answer at all, a sudden, booming laugh filled the entire diner, loud enough to echo from the greasy grill before rolling back out to rattle the windows. The sheriff hooked his thumbs into a belt with a buckle so big that could probably double as a satellite dish, guffawing loudly, “Aw, you ain’t in any trouble, I’m just joshing ya, boy!”

Oh. Ohhhh, this was only a little goodnatured small-town hazing, that he could deal with, if he managed to swallow his quivering soul back down where it belonged. Stretch tried on a smile to match the sheriff’s ongoing laughter and found that it fit pretty well, all things considered.

“can’t be joshing, my name is stretch,” Stretch said with cautious humor. “but i guess stretching me would be an entirely different meaning. think they gave that one up in the middle ages.”

The sheriff bellowed out another laugh that practically shook the silverware, actually bending over to give his knee a loud slap. Around them rose other chuckles around mouthfuls of pie and how strange was it that he could feel the difference between people laughing at him and laughing with him. There was a certain fondness in that laughter, in the warm expressions coming his way from townsfolk that he sort of knew; these were people who’d bought their toilet paper and fresh apples from him on any given day, who’d give him waves and smiles when he passed them on the sidewalk and maybe it was an unusual form of kindness, but their humor still made unexpected tears prick in his sockets.

Stretch grabbed his napkin and dabbed hastily at his face as if he were wiping away sweat before anyone could see and misunderstand. How could he explain to them that in all his life, he’d never felt such a wash of overwhelming fondness from anyone except maybe his own brother.

(Not even from the person who’d told him so often and so tenderly that he loved him…until he didn’t, fucking hell, he wasn’t thinking about that right now, he wasn’t.)

The sheriff was obviously no fool and already his expression was softening into remorse, maybe coming up with an apology that Stretch desperately did not want, not for this. Rescue came almost too late and from an entirely unexpected source. Granny Collemore was so short Stretch could only see her steel-gray hair piled up in a messy bun over the top of the booth as she approached, but he heard her hollering well enough.

“Buford, you let that poor boy alone!” There was a smacking sound of a cane hitting flesh and Stretch couldn’t see where the blow struck, but the sheriff, Buford, let out a yelp, hopping on one foot as he frantically rubbed his shin.

“Sam Hill, granny, I was only playin!” he grumbled. He pulled up the leg of his trousers to examine his granny-inflicted wound. There was a reddened welt on the skin, already shading to purple.

“You hush yourself,” Granny huffed, “I’m half-past give-a-shit today and you may be the sheriff in these parts, but you ain’t too old for a hiding!” Granny shuffled into view, her cane hooked over one arm. She reached out with her wrinkled hands and Stretch leaned over obediently to let her to cup his face gently in her palms as she clucked with concern. “Does he look like he’s up for your shenanigans?” she groused loudly, “‘specially since this feller is working over at the grocery with Red, bless his heart.”

“That a fact?” Buford pushed his hat up and offered a crooked smile. “Must be a brave soul, then. Well, you tell that sonavabitch I’m gunning for him this Sunday. He better be there with silver bells on and you tell him that whatever aces are up his sleeves, better make sure they ain’t spades, ‘cause that’s the reverend’s favorite cheat.”

“i’ll do that,” Stretch agreed, a touch bewildered. Hell, he’d thought Red was joking when he said the sheriff was his poker buddy.

That sounded like an exit line, it was starting to look like Stretch was going to make it out of here unscathed, and he might have if Granny hadn’t put in, happily, “Anyhoo, Buford, you just miss seeing Edge. He was here sharing a slice of pie with our new fella.”

Dark eyebrows rose up over those mirrored lenses and Buford hooted a laugh, “Oho, that how it is. On a date with our Edge, were ya.”

Great, that was exactly what he didn’t want getting back to Red. Enjoying a little flirting was one thing, but not if it started the wheels of the gossip train turning. With his luck, it would crash right into a dumpster fire. “uh, no, no dates, just pie.”

He did not expect Buford to suddenly look a little offended, those eyebrows drawing down into a frown behind his glasses. “Why in the Sam Hill not? Ain’t he your type?”

“Uh.” Stretch looked around a little wildly, away from Granny and Buford to see the rest of the diner was still watching them with interest. No, not just interest, there was an awful lot of sly looks there and whispering behind hands, along with soft expressions and doe-eyes…

Oh. Oh, shit, it was worse than he thought. They were invested, everyone in this diner was taking sides and they were choosing the romance option, this was bad, this sort of thing was infectious and the last thing he needed right now was an entire town of matchmakers trying to hook him up with the local hottie. It was like an unsolved Agatha Christie took a sudden, sideways turn into a Hallmark Gyftmas movie.

Buford and the rest of the diner were all waiting for him to explain why he and Edge weren’t dating and Stretch was sitting here, fumbling around at the pass.

“we’re not dating, we’re just—” Stretch coughed awkwardly, hesitating. The truth was ‘it’s complicated’ was probably most accurate, although ‘barely met acquaintances’ was a close second, or even the generic, ‘he’s my boss’s baby bro whose ass i am definitely not staring whenever i see him but also his smile is really nice and—' “—friends,” Stretch finished, lamely.

Buford nodded like he’d offered not a nugget of wisdom, but an entire ten-piece with the tangy sauce. The light reflected in his mirrored gaze as he said, kindly, “That ain’t a bad thing.”

Relieved, Stretch let out an unsteady laugh, “kinda surprised you don't think i'm a cousin or something.”

Buford snorted loudly at that, “Son, you boys don't look a thing alike.”

And that there was another surprise to add to his daily total. In Ebott, Stretch was constantly getting mistaken for Papyrus or Sans, even his own brother once or twice. Half the time, people either didn’t know his name or didn’t care to, and Backwater was a strange place, no question, but that sure didn’t mean it was bad.

Buford didn’t seem to notice his shock as he went on, “Now there’s a boy who could use some en-ter-tainment. Works too hard, damned if he don’t.”

Now that was a clue looking him right in the face and Stretch took the Velma leap and pounced on it, trying for a little discreet nonchalance, “yeah? what does he work so hard at?”

A shame Buford seemed to be pretty quick on the draw. He gave Stretch a shrewd look, “He ain’t told you?”

“no, sir,” Stretch sighed glumly. Seriously, he was the worst Velma ever.

Buford went ahead and poured salt into the open wound with another short laugh, “Naw, I’ll ain’t stepping in that cow pie. I’ll let him talk to ya about that. But see if you can’t get him to slow down for another--” Buford gave him a sly wink and actually hooked his thick fingers into air quotes, “’friend date’, wontcha?”

Then he grunted as Granny Collemore jammed her elbow into his soft gut, tutting loudly, “You never did shake the ants outta your pants did you, Buford! Let those boys alone, they'll go at their own pace.” To Stretch she offered sunny, toothless grin, “Come on, and walk an old lady out.”

“yes, ma’am,” Stretch said. Hey, he might be an idiot, but he was no fool. He stood up, ready to make his getaway, halted only briefly by Buford snatching up his hand and giving it an enthusiastic shake, though his grip was gentle on the delicate bones.

“Welcome to town, Stretch,” Buford told him. For once he was completely serious as he said, low, “and don’t you worry about those boys.” He tapped the side of his nose, his broad finger reflected in his sunglasses. “I know what happened, it’ll be taken care of.”

“i appreciate that,” Stretch said, and he meant it. He turned and followed after Granny, only dodging ahead to hold up the door so she could shuffle out.

“Thank you, sonny,” Granny huffed as she made her slow way through the door. “These old bones ain’t as spry as yours. You should head on home now, there's a storm a’comin'."

Stretch looked up into the cloudless sky in confusion, greeted by endless blue.

“Oh, you can trust me," Granny grimaced and rubbed at her hip, "these joints don't lie."

“i will,” Stretch agreed. After his lesson with the corn, he was taking the townsfolk at their word and if granny said a storm was heading this way, he expected to see clouds blowing in any minute now.

He left Granny to make her way home and headed back to the store. Red only grunted when he came in, didn’t even look up from his book as he hooked an absent thumb towards his apartment. There was a bag sitting on the table and when Stretch looked inside, there was a sandwich neatly covered in plastic wrap, a bag of chisps, and a bottle of juice. He was still full up on pie, but it would make for a nice, simple dinner, good thing he had Red up there looking after him. Maybe he should suggest to Red that he get a tattoo, a nice heart engraved on his arm with ‘Mom’ in the middle, since now he had one.

Stretch took the bag upstairs with him and opened the window. He took a moment to breathe in the already cooling air, a herald to the coming storm.

The book was sitting where he’d left it last night when he’d dragged himself off Red’s sofa, limbs spaghettied from sleep and his mind noodly mush. He’d brought the book along without even thinking about it and now the hardcover seemed to mock him with the necessary knowledge hidden somewhere within those pages.

Welp, there was only one way he was gonna get the info out of it and that didn’t mean beating it against his skull until the words shook out. He picked it up and settled to sit cross-legged on the bed, bracing himself for what might well be hours of boredom as he turned it to the first page.

And frowned. At the top of the page was a family name, ‘Anderson’, along with the date, ‘1884’. There was a short selection of first names beneath it and next to each was what looked like a telephone number and an address.

“what the hell?” Stretch muttered. He flipped to the second page and it was the same thing, only the name was ‘Armstrong’ and there were a lot more first names to go with it, someone was getting busy on the weekends, for sure.

Stretch flipped to the next page, and the next. All of them had the same thing, a last name, then a collection of firsts with a number and an address. Finally, he flipped back to the title page. There, right underneath the scrolling text declaring the book ‘The Informal History of Backwater’ was a tiny addition he hadn’t noticed before, stating in a small, stark font, ‘Municipal Directory.’

For a long moment, Stretch could only stare at it, until the words started floating in his sight. Laughter bubbled up suddenly, fizzing in him like a shaken soda. "sonofabitch," Stretch burst out, snickering madly. The damn thing was a glorified telephone book and Edge had flat-out given him his damned address already, practically gift-wrapped it! And he'd almost refused to take the damn thing! Guy wasn't only sexy, he had jokes and if he wasn't already a treat to the senses, that would have upgraded him to a bone-ified snack.

Address had to be in here, all Stretch needed to do was find it. The book was bigger than he would’ve thought from a small town, but from the look of it, they never took anyone out, only kept adding on. Occasionally next to a name he saw an abbreviated ‘dec.,’ so maybe this was a bit of town history, after all, kind of a family tree, anyway.

It still took him awhile to find their names, flipping through the book. The names were alphabetized, but that didn’t help much when the family he was looking for didn’t have a last name. Finally, under the surname ‘Skeleton’, he found them.

“should’ve tried that to begin with,” Stretch muttered. He read the entry, following along with his finger, only to pause in confusion when it came to the date recorded neatly by their names. It listed them as arriving in town over a decade ago and if that was when they came to Backwater, then whoever printed this needed to proofread a little better, because that was impossible. Monsters had only been on the surface for a couple years, not quite three now, so it had to be a mistake.

Except, Edge struck him as the kind of guy who was pedantic enough that there was no way he wouldn’t bitch until it was fixed; anyone who ate their pie like it was a military maneuver wouldn’t be able to stand such an egregious error. And he’d made sure to give Stretch the book, so he damn well knew he’d be seeing this. So what the hell did all this mean?

What did any of this mean?

Stretch sank back against the wall behind him, tipping his head up so he could stare at the ceiling. There was a crack in the plaster in one the corner, spidering off into a shape like a lightning bolt and that was exactly what Stretch felt like he’d been struck with.

What the hell was this place? Some kind of fairytale, where one day in town was a week on the outside? If he hopped on another bus and made his way to the next town over, would the papers tell him it was next Tuesday or the next century?

It was enough to inspire him to check his messages. Stretch fumbled for his phone, opening the text app for the first time in days. The amount of alerts made him wince but it was the last message that roused that endless ache in his soul back up to true pain.

I understand that you’re hurting, brother. You don’t have to tell me where you are. You don’t even have to call. All I ask is you send me a message every once in a while to let me know you’re all right. Please.

Stretch closed his sockets and swallowed against the sudden knot in his throat. Before he could rethink it, he typed a hasty, i’m all right and sent it, then lurched over to shove his phone into the nightstand drawer, slamming it shut.

Even so, he couldn’t help listening, straining to hear but there was no vibrating buzz, nothing to indicate a return message.

Good enough.

Stretch took a deep, shaky breath, then dragged the book back over and studied the entry again. Red’s address was the store, no surprises there, but Edge was listed under 637 Wood’s End Drive.

Wood’s End. Seriously?

Welp, it was one mystery solved, anyway, even if he’d skipped the meddling kids part. Now all he needed was to plan a field trip.

A sudden flash of lightning lit the room, putting the fake bolt on his ceiling to bitter shame and the sky outside seemed to burst, rain pouring down and pelting through his open window. Stretch scrambled over to slam it closed, shaking away the damp on his hands. All the sunshine from earlier was gone, the sky darkened into angry, swirling storm clouds as the downpour drenched the parched earth.

Yeah, field trip was postponed on account of rain, but not for long. He’d get there and maybe once he showed up on Edge’s doorstep, he’d finally get some real answers.

For now, though, all Stretch wanted was a towel.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #welcome to backwater

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twinkleallnight · 4 years ago

Text

Marshmallow

(Part-9) Bewitched

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC, Drake x ??

For previous chapters: catch up here

A/N: This fic is my submission for this week’s @wackydrabbles prompt. The prompt is: “Okay, wow, you just dumped a lot of information on my lap and gave me no time to process it.” and will appear in bold.

A/N 2: Thank u @lizzybeth1986 Lizzy, your essays are amazing. Thank u for the quick brainstorming.

Tags: @ao719 @aloneautumn @charlotteg234 @choiceskatie @cordonia-gothqueen @cordonianroyalty @daisydancer12385 @drakewalker04 @gardeningourmet @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @idontknowwhysblog-blog @islandcrow @jovialyouthmusic @jaxsmutsuo @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @mrswalkers-blog @mom2000aggie @no-one-u-know @ntoraplayschoices @ritachacha @speedyoperarascalparty @shanzay44 @texaskitten30 @queenrileyrose @sanchita012 @theroyalheirshadowhunter @wackydrabbles @yourmajesty09-blog @xpandabeardontcarex

I stay back on the yacht, while Riley joins Max and Bertrand for the official speech and the opening ceremony of the Regatta- the ceremonial boat race.

I enjoy my time gearing up, listening to the music with my earphones on.

Riley climbs the yacht after about an hour with Max and Bertrand.

Bertrand seems to be in worse mood, and acknowledges my presence only with a nod before he starts handling the ropes.

“Did you hear that?” Riley has an astonished look.

“What?” I ask curiously.

“The king just now announced he is stepping down at the end of social season.”

“What?!” A whirlwind of thoughts flood my mind suddenly. All topped up with the thought of what Liam must be going through right now. He is being burdened with one responsibility after another since past year and this is a heavy one.

“Earth to Walker! Earth to Walker!” Riley’s funny robotic sound brings me back to present.

“Yes, Brooks.” I try to smile at her. “I am pretty much here. Let’s get ready for the show-off race.” Bertrand raises his eyebrow at me. I know he doesn’t like a word against the royal events but he is stuck with me right now.

The race starts with the king pulling the trigger of the starting pistol. The suitors stand on their yachts, while the crew struggles hard to make them win the short race.

Obviously with no trained crew we lose the race and Penelope from Portavira wins, having an upper hand with sea activities. Bertrand is upset again and disappears from the scene soon after the race.

The suitors and other nobles join Livy's yacht party to enjoy rest of the festivities. Official races are to begin soon. I excuse myself, to meet Liam at his booth at the harbour.

“Hey, you ok?” I ask him with concern. The announcement must have been hard.”

“Hmm… I don’t know. It is a lot to take in.”

“He did not tell you about this, earlier?”

“I had no clue. The news is as fresh to me as it is to you.”

“This will bring lot of change. Are you ready for it?”

“I don’t see that I have an option. I think I will speak to father after this day’s event.”

“I will be around. We can meet in the study after you talk to him.” I try to reassure him.

“That sounds good. I may need it.”

I pat lightly on his back and we both turn to face the sea. I see Livy's yacht is lively with the ongoing party. Some movement on another boat catches my eye. It’s Hana's yacht with just Hana and Riley standing there. I smile and look at Liam. His eyes are following the same.

“Your girl has a knack of walking against the wind.” I tease him.

“She is a fighter. You know, the media and press are very much impressed with her. I see a bright chance for her to claim this social season.” Liam speaks with lot of affection.

“That’s great! So, you may get to marry a girl you love and not just have a political alliance to call it a marriage!”

“Well it’s a very complicated situation. Being a crown prince, I can’t just express my love openly to anyone. But yes, I may have a chance, after all!” He says flashing a grin.

“But why are these two not with the rest?”

“Hana’s parents are quite pushing. They forced her to throw her own party. Since Livy is a local person, people know her better and so, they accepted her invite and not Hana's. I guess, Riley couldn’t let Hana be alone. So, there they are, just the two of them.”

“How is Hana related to Cordonia?” She is a mystery to me.

“Her mother, Lorelai belongs to a minor noble family of Cordonia and is married into a noble family from China.”

Just then the sound of a trumpet distracts us. The official race begins and we get busy with it.

The event is followed by a private beach party for the suitors where they get to interact with the prince. I leave Liam with Penelope, and join Max, Hana and Riley for the buffet.

After our food we relax down, I get ready for a swim. “ I am dipping in. Girls, are you coming?”

Riley tries to coax Max one last time to join us, “Max you sure don’t want to come with us?”

“Let him rest Riley, let’s go. Bye hippo!” I twit over his hidden tatoo and he glares back at me.

As we stride to the water Riley questions, “ Why did you call him hippo?”

I knew that would come up. Now I try to cover up. “ He was a chubby child and his mother used to call him that lovingly.” Though this was true too.

“That’s so cute.” Hana replies. “May be if I had a brother my mother would have called him panda!”

“Why panda?” I question.

“They have been managing a panda reserve since the time I remember. So, may be….” Her voice trailed into a sudden silence as her mind reeled into some thoughts.

Before I can react, I am hit with a splash of water by Riley. Soon, we three are swashing and plashing. Riley and I do our favourite thing together – The race! It’s swimming race this time.

After about an hours play we get back on the beach. Max whisks away Riley to meet others, while I relax down for a nice sunbath.

Hana settles down close by. I don’t know why I am so curious to know about her. May be because I know the rest suitors, who r all from Cordonia, I give myself a reasoning.

“So, Pandas huh?” I try to continue our conversation that was left.

“Xióng - māo”

“What mao?”

“Panda…in Chinese.”

“Chinese, hmmm, you are missing home?”

“A tiny little bit!” She gestures with her forefinger almost touching the thumb.

“How different it is to be here in Cordonia all alone away from your family?

“ I miss them but it’s good. I am getting a chance to experiment and explore. I have never done anything without their permission or out of the rule book.”

“Seems you hardly had fun as a child.”

“I have heard few of your stories from Liam and I can definitely say my childhood was unlike any of those fun moments you had. I never had anyone to play with.”

“How did you play alone then?”

“I was not allowed toys except for a tea set as that would train me to be a proper hostess. So, I had my own imaginary games with imaginary friends. Prince Snickerdoodles and Miss Lemon curd, Miss Napkin and Mr sock.” She sounds a bit embarrassed, her eyes down on the circles she is making in the sand with her slender fingers.

“That is some great fictional work there.” She raises her eyelids in surprised look at me. “Tell me more.” I encourage her.

“My childhood was more about grooming me to be part of the court someday. To be perfect at every skill that will help me win my love one day.” I raise my brow puzzled. “It sounds crazy, I know.” She continues, “ My younger years were full of all skill lessons like horse riding, ice skating, dance, music, culinary, you name it.”

It leaves me shocked to imagine a child being put through so much. I don’t know how to react. She is looking at me for some response. “Okay, wow, you just dumped a lot of information on my lap and gave me no time to process it.” I manage to say something sensible.

She gives me a weak smile “So, there was no running around the palace like you all did.”

“So, you never played tag?”

“Never.” She says with a frown.

An idea comes to my mind, and I jump up suddenly. “Get up.”

“What?”

“Get up!” I insist giving her a hand and pull her up. “It is never too late to have some fun.” I make some distance and get ready to run “Now, catch me. You are it!” while she processes what just happened.

She gives out a sweet laughter, and starts running after me, over the soft sand. As I take a lead, I hear her giggle.

There are few tall rocks ahead and I circle them and hide behind one of them. When she comes searching for me, I pounce and scare her. She lets out a scream and I catch her and pull her into me before she loses balance. We both are soon laughing and rolling on the sand.

We relax there catching our breath, both quiet, gazing up into the open sky. It’s a moment of bliss and we lose the count of time until there is a shuffling sound and then…

“No, you can’t come here.” Livy's sharp voice comes from behind us. We turn to see that it is coming from behind the rock, where we are lying, hidden away from her view.

“I know. I am missing you too.” It seems she is talking over phone. “I will call you as soon as I get back.”

I turn to Hana and open my mouth to speak. But she covers my lips with her small hand and gestures to keep silent.

“I love you more. Bye.” Livy finishes her call. Hana’s doe shaped eyes go wide and are transfixed on me.

I keep looking back into those honey almond eyes, Bewildered or Bewitched?

#pixelberry #drake walker #olivia nevrakis #playchoices #the royal romance #liam x riley #olivia #trr #trr fandom #hana lee #twinkleallnight

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secretradiobrooklyn · 4 years ago

Text

Get In Moses Edition | 2.13.21

Secret Radio | 2.13.21 | Hear it here.

art by Paige, liner notes mostly by Evan, *means Paige

1. Chantal Goya - “Tu m’as trop menti”

From the movie “Masculin feminin,” a DVD we borrowed from Tim. This is the film where Godard was whispering the lines into a headset of the actor, so they were learning their lines literally as they were saying them. This is the opening song. Not particularly Valentine’s Day, in that it’s about lying too much… but still there’s a dissatisfaction that is undeniably a part of French romance.

2. Human League - “(Keep Feeling) Fascination”

Such a square song! But the keys hook is so immortally beautiful, with its crucial warble. The rest of the song is sweetly and innocently ‘80s. It reminds me of being in art class in high school, fully participating in the aesthetic crimes of the era.

3. Marijata - “Break Through” - “Afro-Beat Airways”

Analog Africa is just now releasing a repress of this long sold-out collection. I’d listened to it before, but I guess that was before I knew about Marijata (thanks again, Jeffrey!) because it was a shock to discover a track by one of our very favorite Ghanaian discoveries. So far as I knew, Marijata only released one album of four songs — which is fantastic — and then eventually started backing a guy named Pat Thomas. Those records, unfortunately, are nowhere near as vital and fascinating as their own record. So finding this song was a welcome revelation! I should also say that, no surprise, the whole collection is a banger from front to back, and will definitely show up again on the show.

4. Philippe Katerine (avec Gérard Depardieu) - “Blond”

This strange guy is a kind of joker songwriter in French pop, as far as I can tell. This song is all about what one can get away with if one is blond. He’s a really fascinating character, a tiny bit like Beck maybe, in the sense that he seems to have made a successful career of taking unexpected directions. He’s also an actor, working with Claire Denis (!), Jonathan Demme and Gille Lellouche among many others. He was also in “Gainsbourg - A Heroic Life,” which is an excellent movie that we highly recommend. (We had no idea who he was when we saw it at the St. Louis Film Festival.) Also, he appears to be married to Gérard Depardieu’s daughter, which would seem to explain this particular guest star.

- The Texas Room - “Cielito Lindo”

Several years ago, a producer in St. Louis put together the amazing album known as “The Texas Room,” which brought together immigrants from all over the world who currently lived in St. Louis. That meant Bosnians, Cameroonians, Mexicans, and native-born Americans… including Andy Garces, a fellow Paige went to high school with — His mom was Paige’s voice teacher as a matter of fact — who recorded this strange and excellent version of “Cielito Lindo.” The release party for the album was one of the greatest nights we spent in that or any city, dancing our faces off to all kinds of music. At one point the Bosnians got so excited they took over the room, shouting along and hoisting up their guy in the air. Basil Kincaid did the art for the album, and I think that’s the night we finally met. We have one of his collages on our studio wall right now — right over there!

5. The Modern Lovers - “I’m Straight” *

When we got the current SK van (circa 2015) we were super excited because we could finally bring out other musicians on the road and we could also have folks from other bands that we were out with jump in the van with us for a stretch. That February we were on tour with Jamaican Queens, and our friend Andy Kahn came out with us to play guitar. Not only is Andy a rad musician and great guy to be around, but he was an excellent road DJ. Somehow I made it to 30 without getting into The Modern Lovers (I know, crazy!) Andy has great taste and had a well appointed iPod so he was the official van DJ pretty much right away. He put on this record one day and I just lost it. The thing is, after that I was like “Play ‘Roadrunner’ again!” all the time. When I hear this record I still think of that tour. Andy in the back seat DJing, Ben and Erik jumping in the van to come with to Baltimore, graduating to “truck” in the Holland Tunnel queue, so much snow, host Bentley, “Go cats?”, Aaaaaahhhhh!

6. Frances Carroll & the Coquettes - “Coquette / When I Swing My Stick / Jitterbug Stomp”

I think we learned about this band last year, when Coquettes drummer Viola Smith died at 107 years old (in Costa Mesa, not Silverlake, Paige would like you to know — her bad). The video link below is highly recommended — the whole band swings hard, and the interaction between them and Frances Carroll is well worth the watch. They were considered a curiosity at the time, being an all-female band, and man they could play. Viola Smith in particular had an insanely long career, playing from the 1920s straight through into 2019! She played with Ella Fitzgerald and Chick Webb, and in the original Broadway production of “Cabaret.” Her particular innovation was having two toms at shoulder height, on either side of her head, which she would roll and ricochet shots off. Very cool style, never copied.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pFDD_NxtKZ4

7. Pierre Sandwidi - “Boy Cuisinier”

Born Bad Records is one of the world’s coolest record labels, with a huge array of vintage discoveries as well as African albums as well as contemporary pop and noise bands. “Boy Cuisinier” is off Pierre Sandwidi’s album with them. It bears some definite relation to Francis Bebey but takes its own turns just as often. Sandwidi hails from Burkina Faso, known as the Upper Volta when he was growing up. We’re just now learning about him and his scene — I confess I didn’t even know Upper Volta was African; I thought it was Slavic — so I wouldn’t be surprised if some more Voltaic music shows up here soon.

8. Evan Sult avec Tracy Brubeck - “The Cats Won’t Stay In”

Paige’s mom Tracy called while we were in the middle of the show, and they paused to have a conversation about, you know, whatever — the snowstorms, the neighbors, the news. She was on speakerphone so that we could all talk, and eventually I just started taking notes as fast as I could. This is the result. I find it fascinating. That’s Paige singing lead on the Marty Robbins tune.

9. Kil Monnower Alimunna, Grup Hindustanbul - “Tadap Tadap”

Years ago I saw the movie “Monsoon Wedding” by the director Mira Nair. It really stuck with me, particularly the gorgeous opening credits in maroon and orange and sky blue. I was trying to tell Paige about that sequence, so just in case we could catch a glimpse of those colors, we watched the trailer. This song is the soundtrack to the trailer. It’s really an amazing track — so Indian, of course, but with definite Western points of contact, like when it goes to the major chords unexpectedly in the post-chorus, which sounds practically American. And the final outro minute or so is full of delayed, reverbed vocals in a psychedelic style, til it reaches the strange and intoxicating sound that he makes with his voice as the song fades into the distance.

- Martial Solal “New York Herald Tribune” - “A bout de souffle” soundtrack

10. Gillian Hills - “Tut Tut Tut Tut”

Gillian Hills, probably more famous for “Zou Bisou Bisou.” This track is great, listen for those syrupy slides and harmonies. I just learned that she is English, and the music video for this song is definitely shot in Angleterre. Full of famous red phone booths (now famous little free libraries.) When we were doing this week’s show I asked Evan “Is this song too obvious?” He said no, it wasn’t too obvious. If you know why I’m asking, then you know. So is it?

11. Jacques Dutronc “La Compapade”

We’ve been into Jacques Dutronc for many years now, because he’s a brilliant French songwriter and composer. But this one track has been a baffler for many years now. It shows up out of nowhere and sounds like… what? What the hell IS that? Is it African? It sounds African, but — is it? Is it just some strange lark on his part? Paige was apprehensive about playing it on the show, even though we both really enjoy it, because we couldn’t tell if it was somehow demeaning to someone. But eventually I argued that we don’t know what the hell most of the singers are saying in the songs we play, or which cultural taboos they’re transgressing, and the same is true in this case. If it is somehow offensive to anyone, I hope it’s clear that wasn’t our intention. But… I don’t know. I don’t think it is. I think it just comes from a cultural heritage and context that is French in a way Americans cannot understand or appreciate. In any case, it’s an amazing performance and recording!

12. K. Frimpong & His Cubanos Fiestas - Me Da A Ɔnnda”

Research into African rock and styles eventually brought us to K. Frimpong and His Cubanos Fiestas, which has turned out to be a satisfying step into the Ghanaian highlife/Cuban scene. I love the keyboard hooks in this one and the way the patterns just roll on and on with each other like a river, in no hurry but pulled forward by their own currents. He was also a visual artist — his art appeared on the cover of last episode’s Nyame Bekyere album. This was also the first time I’ve encountered the character “Ɔ” in the wild. I have zero idea how it is pronounced.

13. They Might Be Giants - “Birdhouse In Your Soul”

“Not to put too fine a point on it / Say I’m the only bee on your bonnet / Make a little birdhouse in your soul.” I remember when I first realized that was a feeling I was feeling — hoping to build a birdhouse in the soul of another, to be inside one another in a little protected place. The rest of the song is a nerd-rock dream palace I love as much as any other nerd, but the chorus is where I discovered an emotion I hadn’t suspected was there when I first heard and fell for this song and this band in high school (thanks, Jeremy Peterson!).

Paige adds: This song is blowing my mind. I don’t like writing lyrics, my ratio of melodies and harmonies to lyrics way out of whack. Evan brought this song back into our lives this week when Sleepy Kitty was asked what our favorite love songs are on a real radio show. We’ve been listening to it a bunch since Thursday and damn, these lyrics are good. It’s really reminding me that you can write about ANY.THING. Blue Canary in the freakin’ outlet by the light switch. Looking at the lighthouse picture. It’s a clinic. I learned something, and I can go home.

On the original topic, I love thinking of this as a love song. If you hear a love song, it’s a love song. It’s a love song.

14. Sleepy Kitty - “Tu veux ou tu veux pas” *

I took two years of French in high school and missed out junior and senior year because of a scheduling lulu that made 3rd and 4th year French conflict with advanced painting which was the primary reason I was taking French in the first place. I’m still not over it. Years later, I’m at Electropolis (in my memory) and I hear this Brigitte Bardot song on Tim’s excellent sound system and I can understand…most?…some…of it! I fell in love with this song and with French again and started stumbling, scrabbling at it again. We started working up this cover. Thank you Suzie Gilb for helping with the pronunciation. We did a 7” of this song and it’s a rare SK track with me playing trombone on it.

15. The Velvet Underground - “I Love You” *

I don’t really have much to say about this track except that it reminds me of flying to Germany because I got the 5 Disc set with all the extras on it a few days before leaving for a high school foreign exchange program. I was so happy to have those discs to absorb on the long flight, and come to think of it, it really inflected the whole trip.

16. Secret Song - “African Scream Contest”

The genesis of our love for African rock/funk/whatever (if for a moment we don’t count the profoundly influential “Graceland”) is the immortal collection “Legends of Benin,” put out by Analog Africa. As soon as we dug further for our favorites from that collection, we found “African Scream Contest” vols 1 and 2. I was drawn to the second one because it had a killer track by our hero Antoine Dougbé, but eventually spent as much time with the first volume. Both are absolutely fantastic. Part of what I love so much about them is learning how much of an impact James Brown and his band had on African music, which is super apparent throughout these collections and especially this track. The drums and the grunts and the hard stops and the horn blasts — it’s all there.

One of the finest elements of these records is the hidden track at the end, tucked five or so minutes back from the last song. These are often some of the hottest tracks on the album, well worth the wait, and this mystery song is no exception. Unfortunately, though, that means we don’t know who made this track or what it’s called. Oh well — that only makes it cooler!

- Adrian from Brooklyn

17. The Beatles - “Dizzy Miss Lizzy”

We watched “The Beatles: Eight Days a Week” recently (totally worth a watch), and we were struck all over again by how insane their lives must have been at that time. Yes fame, yes sudden fortune, yes global supremacy, yes yes yes — the thing that I can’t get over is the shrieking, and how it wasn’t just present at their shows, it was EVERYWHERE THEY WENT, AT ALL TIMES ON ALL DAYS, EVERY SECOND THEY WERE OUTSIDE. How completely unsettling that must have been, to be the center of that howl, day after day, year after year.

18. The Fall - “Sing! Harpy”

Dedicated to Adrian from Brooklyn and all those young women and men losing their minds over the Beatles so completely that all they could do was shriek, even at shows where the crowd’s sound completely obliterated the sound of the band they so desperately loved and came to hear.

(This is also some of my favorite violin playing in any rock music, right up there with “Boys Keep Swinging” and The Ex’s “State of Shock.” I would LOVE to work with a violinist in this mode.)

19. T.P. Orchestre Poly-Rythmo - “Gnon a Gnon Wa”

So intense! That constant chord strike throughout the song is a kind of high-note drone that we find ourselves drawn to. It kind of reminds me of the sound of a casino, where you walk in and all of the machines are chiming the same note, promising to just take your mind away and keep it safe until you need it again.

- Tommy Guerrero - “El Camino Negro” - “Road to Nowhere”

20. Black Dragons de Porto Novo - “Se Djro” What a slinky number! I love how spare the instrumentation is, but how much power is contained in that one guitar part. This is side A of a 7” put out on Albarika Store, the label that T.P. Orchestre called home for many albums.

21. Helen Nkume and Her Young Timers - “Time” This is (so far) the closest we’ve gotten to reggae on WBFF. I know nothing about the band or the music other than their fantastic name and sound — oh, and the fact that she is known elsewhere as Prophetess Helen Nkume. She appears to be Nigerian, or anyway her record label is. I love the guitar hook on this song, it just sneaks in and steals the show.

22. Anne Sylvestre - “Les Gens Qui Doutent”

23. Parvati Khan - “Jimmi Jimmi Jimmi Aaja Aaja Aaja Re Mere” A lucky find! Someone in one of my Facebook groups posted a video from this album, so I took note and returned later to check it out. This is from an Indian movie called “I’m a Disco Dancer” that looks like a real kooky thrill. The actors appear to have only the vaguest sense of what “disco” might be — or what a guitar might be, for that matter. It kind of looks like someone saw a single photo of a disco night and extrapolated a whole movie from it. Nonetheless, Parvati Khan is entrancing in the song and in the video, and we HAVE to see this movie, with or without subtitles. The smoldering look alone really requires investigation:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZUdJQSUcK_Y

24. Nancy Sit - “Love Potion #9” * One thing I’ve always known about Evan is that he doesn’t like the song “Love Potion #9.” When we stumbled across this, I thought it was awesome but I didn’t want to make Evan listen to a song he doesn’t like on Valentine’s Day! Evan says this song has little to do with “Love Potion #9” which makes me wonder, Evan, what’s the part you don’t like about “Love Potion #9”?

Evan adds: I honestly can’t remember what my issue with this song was. I swear, it was like… it was around the time of “Melt With You,” which I also found inexplicably irritating (and still do). I suspect now that there was an inept cover version that first steered me wrong… but luckily there’s a strange Chinese version to steer me right again! Oh life.

- Michel Legrand - “Solange’s Song (Instrumental)” - “The Young Ladies of Rocheforte”

25. The Velvet Underground - “I’ll Be Your Mirror” * This is the song that I said was the best love song of the western world on the real radio. I think it’s so beautiful and so adult. I don’t even know if I would have thought of this as love song a few years ago. When first got into the V.U. I thought it was a pretty song – a neat song, but I didn’t really know what it meant, what it could mean. What’s funny is when I think of this song, I have a Lou Reed version in my head – his voice, the harmonies. When I revisited the Max’s Kansas City live version (which as far as I know is the only one besides other more recent live versions and surely what I’m thinking of?) I realized that the version in my head is essentially that one but cleaned up, remastered, different EQ, and as far as I know entirely imagined.

Evan adds: (Paige has been playing this song recently around the apartment. I don’t even have to tell you how lovely it is.)

*p.s. If you want to hear the piece about musicians talking about favorite love songs on KWMU it’s here: https://news.stlpublicradio.org/show/st-louis-on-the-air/2021-02-11/listen-love-songs-to-keep-you-warm-on-cold-winter-nights

Super fun getting to talk about this stuff and in such good company!

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meeraria · 5 years ago

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Hii, I'm so shy asking this but I read somewhere you have a list of upstead moments, would you share it with me? If it's not too much 🙈

I am very sorry I just saw this!! I hope you haven’t sent this a long time ago. I’ve finished the last season recently but I haven’t done this one yet. and pls don’t be shy!! I am so happy you asked. not many people like them.

I don’t have time stamps just some shorthand notes to remind me of the scene. and every instance they call each other by their names (I had this idea to gif them or make a video etc.) but all the moments are in chronological order so if you see the third moment before the first one when you’re watching an episode that means you skipped the first two. the list is under the cut.

ps. there might be some other moments that I liked that are not necessarily upstead.

4x21 first time at the back of a van

4x22 jay on haileys desk

erin is the one who calls her hailey for the first time

4x23 hailey meets will

hailey looks after jay when he leaves

5x01 jay touches hailey on the shoulder for bust

hailey calls him jay for the first time, to Kev and Ruz

look at each other at the hospital

if you need anything

deleted scene: jay I got your back. he is quick to escape her. pats her back. she respects. he’s with his brother

5x02 looks at jay when he starts lying to suspect

sits on her desk

jay checks out hailey in the interrogation room

jay calls him upton. for the first time

5x03 they open doors to cupboard at the same time

butchers blade-look to each other

5x04 sb assumes hailey is ruzek’s gf

stops a witness from prosecuting ruzek

ruzek calls her hailey cause he thinks she’s gonna snitch, jay tries to stop him

5x05 hailey puts her hand on jay’s shoulder jay looks and she recants

they save the kids look at each other

5x06 Le Snob (he’s not in love yet-doesnt look at her)

jay brings her jacket

mcgrady you run the log hailey they look at each other

their hands touch when jay gives her the camera

j: is this really about the case? h:see u 2morrow

jay(grabs her shoulder): u sure u ok? let me know if you need anything

how’supton? jay: idunno

5x07 look at each other to open door

voight: you got a take hailey? neutral

microphone up (first time saying jay 2hisface)

looks at hailey so she’d start the fight

iknowwhathesaw, was what u said true. jay is pissed

first fight: voight says hailey. she denies jay’s request

jayx4 points the gun at her

hailey calls him, he rolls eyes

5x08 first time calls her hailey (don’t need no babysitter)

5x09 hailey texts him, rolls eyes

I’ll stay with the suspect hailey

big potato talk (she’s driving)

flirty let’s check out his alibi

he looked at her and then they look at each other but it’s fast (questioning junkie)

they take a selfie, he puts arm around her she wants to but stops herself

5x10* camila episode

introduces her as hailey - but she’s gay

we’re gonna talk about her, now (calls her jay) I’m fine lie.

you can’t talk to her - jay you’re not thinking straight

thinks she betrayed her

“back off jay”

looks at him over camila’s shoulder

they look at each other - after camilla’s dismissal

hailey is worried about him

she threatens camilla, saying I - his real name is jay x2

5x11 if you’re not serious I need a new partner (shoulder tap)

he wants back to therapy cause of ultimatum

5x12 “jay come back.” platt’s birthday (shoulder punch)- lookateachother

he uses her desk like he doesn’t have one

she pushes jays back to get to voight

they’re hiding together

5x13 look at each other at restaurant

how’s therapy going?

“jay!” - spots the suspects

5x14 flag dispute

look each other when they get shots fired

sits on hailey’s desk

I used to be a soldier-looks at hailey x2

she admires that he respects the kneeler

5x15 she puts arm on his shoulder

sits on hailey’s desk about q

italian guy flirting, women are more loyal then men

jay, you got her?

5x16 bomb-she falls down he grabs her

he sitting on her desk

cF(6x13) calls her to ask about voight

5x17 he’s sitting on her desk

uh-oh i just saw a rat arm tap

5x18* titus episode: jay also calls adam ruz?

how do u know this guy?

looks after she explains

i pitch jay as a potential buyer

you look like a real couple

hailey, thought he bit but

you were hailey’s case officer, she’s my partner

hailey, we gotta talk about this, did he rape you

i can handle this jay- I said the same thing u called me out (shoulder tap)

touches her arm, booth notices

he asked me if i slept with her,

hailey you’re way too emotional

jay: me too. hailey’s solid,hailey’s gonna callme

he reaches for his gun when booth gets handsy with her

5 time hailey, please (grabs her shoulder)

looks after her when arresting

comes to her house, hailey u got him

two deletes scenes: therapy is over

you’re incredibly aloof about your private life

5x19 sitting on hailey’s desk, gives her jacket

looks at homeless jay

saves her life, you good? good.

5x20 look at each other during shootout

talk about erin

5x21 he and kevin fight and she calms them

h:I just talked to halstead

sarge if you need sth - she’s same to everyone

he’s sitting on her desk

5x22 hank x trudy hug (personal ship)

jay comes back from crying grabs her shoulder, she grabs his hand

jay sits on her desk

deleted scene: pushes her out of line of fire

6x01 trudy comes to see hank (personal ship)

“jay” go be undercover junkie

gets his jacket to him

6x02 look at each other in morgue

she uses his computer

she looks at him worried before they go busting

damn it jay. jay, I almost shot you

need me to talk to u. I don’t need anything jay.

innocent man, jay. second fight? keeps looking at him

jay, back off. she pushes him hard, grabs his chest

she grabs his arm to pull him back

“you’re too close jay” I’m done being your punching bag -his eyes never leave her

he’s shot, she’s distressed jay x 4 (she checks his body)

Hailey, I’m sorry. touches his knee as she gets up then cries

deleted scene jay I thought you were with will, pats arm working this case?

6x03 halstead calls her. she slept with adam

I gotta meet jay

you’re like never late. he looks at her after she dismisses him

checks to see if she follows

gonna grab halstead and dig in

look at each other

6x04 greets her when nobody notices

she gets the suspect by jumping on him (gay moment for me)

ready? eye contact

6x05 she knows how to handle idiots

makes way for her like the first time they met

I don’t care if we’re sleeping 2gether talk to voight (to adam) LOVE HER

6x06* voight learns about upzek

i dont do violence

adam undermines her, she gets angry

look at each other when talking to voight

keeps looking at jay when he talks

hailey we gotta talk. I confirmed his alibi

hailey you did what you have to, she cries to him about her guilt adam interrupts.

nothing good comes from workplace romance (he has some feelings?)

even when he’s debriefing; he looks at hailey. adam doesn’t

I know u don’t wanna talk about it flirting. she’s sad

tries to explain to adam: this halstead thing

6x07* looks at him when they’re listening to wire

he wants to help kev, she grabs his arm to stop

legally blind witness flirting

bomb goes off - are u ok? grabs her

va is dead, she checks on him, he look at her. all with eyes

pushes her in the room, through her shoulder

u got me? yeah.

burqa woman incident. jay x2 , hold on. hailey x7, stop

we’re not mind readers hailey. *whispering softly you’re not in war anymore*

look at each other, in the interview

she doesn’t believe the guy he does.

sits on her desk

introduces her as upton to racist woman

save the commentary and scroll look

this thing between us. I screwed up hailey. I have bias (her hand on his shoulder)

looks at her when they walk (feelings maybe?)

6x08 u know she’s with me right?

adam compliments, jay looks at her

steals a pen from him in the background when antonio is on the phone

kev’s suspect calls her out look each other.

kev asks to talk to snitch, she taps jay to leave

6x09 when adam talks about commitment she gets scared

jay calls everyone by surnames except “hailey”

flying blind is fun flirting

“jay” spotted a camera

sweeps the house, touches her arm

suspect pushes her, he catches her and adam punches

she dresses kim’s vest (gay shriek)

6x10* hailey, come on x2

she’s angry. looks at him. he look to voight

voight: trudy. ride with me to the scene (personal)

asks his opinion on ruzek and iad.

he catches upzek. she’s upset he saw.

“a guy I’m dating upzek talk with voight”

we’re always gonna be good talk

6x11 kelton comes. look at each other.

6x12* he gets agitated, she supports him with her looks, he checks for support

“jay you allright” kelton denied funds. hailey, we got him rn.

looks at the bus stop. supporting love. looks.

she catches him over the body “jay, you ok?” hailey arrived after me.

she’s angry and he looks at her.she leaves he stays. head salute.

hailey, what’s up. jay you went dark. is that what you think? jay…

voight warns him. she’s worried behind.

she looks you ok? he looks yes go. first nonverbal.

voight compliments him.

long week. u can’t right every wrong “jay”. flirting then adam calls. go..

6x13 surveillance flirting about kev

what the hell look at her

6x14 kim catches upzek

she gets kidnapped he’s worried

he’s ok with voight’s tactics cause she’s missing

he fights with ruzek.

she’s proud of kim. (personal)

ruzek goes to kim first.

he stands up when he sees her. he’s so sad and angry

she checks jay. he’s upset

6x15* he’s talking to her on the phone

check if he’s coming behind her

pushes back her chair to sit on her desk

“Hailey he’s headed to you” “squad advise my partner ” x 2

upton are you copying? copy jay are you ok? hailey he’s armed.

jay! we’re coming in!

you good? yeah you? yeah

she’s driving

jay we’re good. “do what your ladyfriend tell you to do”

looks at her before he gets out

they look at each other, he says no she listens

she keeps checking on him, he assures her after

he has a hunch, she supports him. he thanks with eyes, she says np with eyes

he defends his hunch, she silently supports him. then look at each other for thx

eyes talk: come with me? right now? ok?

suspect says he’ll snitch, they look at each other we got it

I’ll follow you blind talk. (she half-confessed her feelings to him)

6x16 “sarge what you don’t let me and hailey go?” “hailey?” and gets her jacket

I’m halstead and she’s upton.

I’ll catch up with you, forearm grip

he waited at the entrance

serial killer talks to her, he gets nervous

runs to the car/him, “I got Hailey”

6x17 sitting on her desk

looks at her, checking out buildings

“oh yeah good one” arm pat

looks at her when she’s not looking and looks away when she turns

throws usb to him, he catches

they judge the juvie guy together

voight offers himself to suspect he checks her face to see what she thinks

they look at each other this time when they been judgey

6x18 sitting on her desk

hands on her desk when she’s not there like it’s his :)

6x19 towering over her while she looks at the footage

jay! blue buick

she tries to help the victim and looks at jay to see if she can he looks no

she supports kim no qs ask when kim barges in, normally follows the rules

ruzek keeps checking on kim-believes her immediately like jay and hailey

he was sitting on her desk since before hank came in

6x20 she doesn’t wanna meet ruzek’s family?? i dunno

pats her arm after she’s shot at

they shadow ruzek but she calls it off. jay doesn’t interfere & looks the whole time

ruzek wants answers he tries to cover and supports her and tell ruz to let it go

ruz thinks it’s cause of burzek but it’s not.

“jay talked to”

she holds off the op he’s worried a little in the car.

upstead communicate silently and without questioning

she checks on jay while he fights the suspect

she questions her relationship with adam, platt says if he’s not the one end it

she breaks up with ruzek, and admits they’re not the one for each other

6x21 she’s a bit cocky to the suspect and he smiles a little whilst he turns???

TRUDY AND HANK what could have been

they sit at their desk together

“hailey tell the port supervisor…”

6x22* voight explains the plan, they look at each other worried

he breaks into the car so fast she flirting

“jay you close”

she crashes to save him

“I’m going where you go” they’re both surprised he said it

he protects her first when they’re shot at in the van, ‘we’re good“

she looks at her happily when there’s a lead

they arrest their shooter together, “me and my partner”

he’s pressured, she notices. “you’ll forget about me” “hailey” never.

he want to confess sth but she stops him?

adam kisses platt :)

he’s sitting on her desk

#ask #rrrogah-taylaa #rrrogah taylaa #upstead #chicago pd #my post

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animeniacss · 5 years ago

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6 Years - Hoseok x Reader - Chapter 25 - No Contact Allowed

Synopsis: 6 years. That’s all it can take to take another look at someone and see that they have completely changed. You were once an eager 20-year-old, with your dreams all in view, and Jung Hoseok at your side to view them with you. However, after a break up the end of your junior year of college, everything seemed different. Now, you’re a recently divorced single mother of two, and your life is nowhere near what you thought it would be. However, after reuniting with Jung Hoseok, you may just be able to capture a little bit of that exciting youth you once knew so long ago.

Feat. BTS Members, Nayeon (TWICE), and Yuna (itzy)

Genre: Romance, SingleMother!AU, Past Relationship, Drama, Some Depictions of Violence/Domestic Abuse

Length: approx. 4.1k words

Disclaimer: This chapter does include some intimidating scenes that some may find triggering. Please be warned.

Chapter 25 - No Contact Allowed

Weong-Bin had good connections. He was able to get out on bail just as noon was starting to poke its head around the corner. The next day, thanks to his parents and a few of his coworkers. He didn’t expect anything different, and he was glad he could finally relax in his home until his trial. His lawyer was beside him as they exited the prison, making sure to remind him that he was to have no contact with his family before the trial and to spend his time following the rules and creating a good defense to make sure that he was only able to be found innocent. As he walked out the door, descending down the steps of the jail, he saw a car with his parents waiting on the street. He also saw Myung-Dae, standing at the bottom with his arms crossed. Weong-Bin let out a frustrated groan as he saw Myung-Dae approach him.

“Don’t forget you aren’t allowed to contact anyone-.”

“I already told him. Relax.” Weong-Bin’s lawyer said quickly. “Just keep your distance, will you? Mr. Cho does not need to be harassed right now.”

“Yeah well, neither did his ex-wife but look at where we are.” Weong-Bin couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, that was funny. It’d be funnier if it was true, but good job. Maybe you should be a comedian, Officer.” With that, he walked past Myung-Dae and headed towards his car, giving his mother a tight hug. He took one more glance at Myung-Dae and his lawyer, waving them both off as he slid into his car, and his parents followed, before pulling out of their spot and driving off. Myung-Dae watched the car drive off, then glanced at the lawyer, who checked his watch and turned to him.

“You heard him, become a comedian.” The lawyer joked, chuckling as he headed down the street. Myung-Dae sighed, pulling out his phone and being quick to dial your phone number.

It was lunchtime, and you were at work typing away on your computer. A father had brought in his young son who was throwing up and had to be taken out of school, the poor young boy hysterical as he buried his head in his father’s shoulder.

“The doctor will see you as soon as he can.” You motioned to the little garbage that was placed in front of the counter. “Feel free to take that to your seat, just in case.” The man offered a quick thank you, and you smiled as you watched him walk with his son and the garbage can, trying to isolate themselves from the other small group of patients throughout the waiting room. You leaned back in your seat, looking at Jungkook, who was scrolling through his phone. “Any interesting news?”

“No, not really.” He said. “Just typical stuff; scandals, idol news, stuff like that.” He said. “How’s everything with uhhhh-.” He saw your eyes cast down. “Eh, sorry. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“There’s really nothing crazy to talk about. He’s not supposed to contact anyone, and this weekend I start working with the prosecutor to prepare for the trial.” You chuckled. “My parents are staying close by until this all blows over, with Taehyung and we’re working on moving Hoseok in…” you sighed. “There’s a lot of stuff going through my mind, but it’ll be okay once all this stuff is over.” You leaned forward, resting your chin in your hands as you let your mind start to drift off.

I want to tell my parents and Taehyung about the baby from the college. I haven’t yet. With everything going on right now, it’s been a real weight on my shoulders.

I can only imagine.

Will you…help me?

“I’m here if you need anything, Noona~.” Jungkook said happily, offering you a kind smile as you were pulled out of your own thoughts. You chuckled.

“I know you are.” You said simply. “Don’t worry, though. I went through similar stuff in the divorce. Nothing I can’t handle.” Jungkook chuckled a bit. Both of you were then interrupted by your phone vibrating. “Hm?” Glancing down, you saw Myung-Dae’s phone number flash on your screen. “Oh no…” Jungkook blinked as you stood up. “I’ll be right back.” You stood up, excusing yourself to one of the break rooms before you answered. “Hello?”

“Miss. Cho? It’s Myung-Dae.” He said. “How are you?”

“Well, and yourself?”

“I’m fine. I was just calling to tell you that Weong-Bin posted his bail and will be under close watch until his trial.” You blinked. Even though you kind of knew this would happen, you were still absolutely terrified. “Don’t worry, he’s still under orders not to contact anyone in your family. If he does, you call me right away and I’ll handle it.”

“…Okay, thank you.” You said softly.

“Don’t worry.” She said gently. “We have a lot of stuff to do at the office, but we’re here for you if you need anything.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” You smiled happily. “But, Uhm, I’m at work. I need to go now.” Myung-Dae chuckled a bit, agreeing as the both of you said your goodbyes and hung up. Putting your phone in your pocket, you sighed as you headed back to your seat, sinking down and groaning. Jungkook could sense you were now done talking about the situation, and he left it at that, looking over as the doctor stepped out and called another patient into his office.

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

While you were at work, Hoseok was making sure to be hard at work himself. Sang-Chol, Ji-Tae and the rest of their dance team were hard and work as well. After their last contest went pretty well, the group began to gain a pretty decent following on social media. It was making them even more excited to try and perfect their skills, hoping for even more fans. Currently, they were working on recording a dance cover for a new song released by a popular idol group. It was a tough dance, and Hoseok had offered to help them get down the routine and even help them record it.

“Alright, that was much better!” Hoseok said, setting down his water bottle as he watched the group of boys collapse onto the floor.

“Can’t we take a break? You’ve made us run through it 3 times in a row!” Sang-Chol begged.

“And look how much you’ve improved since the first time. You said you wanted to get the video up soon, didn’t you? While the video is still a hot topic?”

“Yeah…”

“Then get up and go again!”

“Mr. Hoseok pleeeeeease-.” Sang-Chol whined, sprawling out on the floor. Hoseok laughed a bit, grinning.

“Fine. One drink break, then we’ll run it a few more times.” He watched the boys scramble to their bags, pulling out their drinks and practically guzzling down every last drop that they could as if they had been deprived of water for weeks. Hoseok couldn’t help but be amused by them, as he reached over to his phone and scooped it up to check his messages. He saw one was from Yoongi, in the group chat that had both him and Namjoon in it.

Wanna meet for lunch in like half an hour? (Sent 12:30 p.m.)

Hoseok hummed, looking at the little stopwatch that was ticking down how much time they had left. 35 minutes. He glanced back over to the boys, who were already getting reenergized and put back into position. Hoseok glanced down at his phone, seeing Namjoon had also sent a text to confirm.

Sure. I finish my lesson in 35 minutes. Text me the place and I’ll meet you there. (Sent 12:32 p.m.)

With lunch plans settled, Hoseok stood up. “Alright. Let’s get to work boys. Five, six, seven-.”

35 minutes later, the alarm began to ring, signaling the end of the lesson. The boys sighed as they once again collapsed after another 30 minutes of rigorous practice. On the plus side though, they were finally confident enough to shoot the video and upload it. Hoseok took the drink from his bag and took a sip as the boys began to pack up.

“You guys did great.” He said. “Are you going to record next time?”

“I think so. I’m really excited man, that dance break is so difficult!” Ji-Tae said happily.

“I know, and your part, Ji-Tae, with the huge kick right in the middle? Ah! I think I’m in love!”

“Shut up.” Ji-Tae sighed as the boys began to laugh. They all turned to Hoseok as he finished packing up and gave polite bows, thanking him for his help. He smiled.

“No trouble. Here, I’ll walk you guys out.” He said. The group headed outside of the studio, saying goodbye to Jin-Young, who was actually signing up a new little girl for Jimin’s ballet classes. “Be safe getting home.” He said, waving off the boys as they headed down the street, chatting and cheering about their excitement for the upload of the dance cover. He watched them for a moment, before turning around and heading to the café to meet his friends.

Namjoon and Yoongi were already there, sitting at one of the booths. They had waited to order food until Hoseok arrived, and when they saw him bust through the door of the care, Yoongi stood up.

“It’s about time!” He teased as his friend hurried up to him. “Your dance studio is like 5 blocks. We had to take a train.”

“I know.” Hoseok laughed. “Sorry, the boys were so eager to keep practicing I had to practically force them out.” Saying his hellos, he sat down in the booth and sighed. “God, I’m so tired.”

“I can only imagine.” Namjoon chuckled, taking a sip of his water. “You’re really being put through the wringer now. How’s moving going?”

“Fine. I’m pretty much settled in. But everything else-.” He chuckled as the waitress brought him over water. “Everything else just sucks really bad. I don’t know what to do. Anxiety and tension are really high in the apartment right now.” Lifting the glass up to his lips, he took a sip and sighed. “I don’t know what I can do to ease her nerves a bit. The trial is coming up soon, she’s been preparing for everything, and she texted me that Weong-Bin made bail this afternoon.”

“Well he can’t contact you guys, right?” Namjoon asked.

“Yeah, like that’ll stop him.” Yoongi said. “That guy was always a scumbag.”

“…You never met him.” Namjoon pointed out.

“But I knew. I’m just observant like that.” Hoseok smiled a bit at his friends. “But don’t stress about it. If he tries to call, just call the cops and get his ass tossed back in jail, it’s not that serious.”

“Yeah, try telling her that. I’m sure every possible phone call she’s gotten since she heard he made his bail is making her even more paranoid.” Hoseok scratched his head, feeling himself getting frustrated just thinking of how paranoid you were. “I wish I could do more.”

“…Marry her.” Yoongi said simply. Hoseok looked up, his ears turning red. “If you marry her, then it’ll make her feel better.” Namjoon glanced over at him.

“Hyung, stop that, now is not the time for them to worry about marriage.”

“Yeah, well not right now, obviously. But maybe if you bring it up to her, the idea will make her feel better or something. Just knowing you’ll be there.”

“But she already knows that I will.” Hoseok pointed out.

“Well, once you tell her you want to get married, then you’re truly trapped, so maybe that’s not a good idea.” Yoongi teased, and Namjoon chuckled. “Aaah, look how red you are, Hobi.” He chuckled a bit, and that only made Hobi’s cheeks turn redder. “I’m only teasing. Namjoon is right, this isn’t the time to be adding another layer of stress with wedding planning.” Hoseok sighed as the waitress finally returned to take their orders. They all put something in that they saw on the menu, and the woman left with a kind smile and assurance that the food would be out soon. Yoongi glanced over to Hoseok, to see him playing with the straw he was given that he didn’t use. He had pulled the wrapping off and was twisting it between his fingers. “I’m sure if you keep assuring her that you’ll be there for her, it’ll help calm her down. Just do that, and I think everything will be fine.”

“…Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Hoseok said simply.

“Aren’t I always?” He grinned, and he watched both of the other boys snickered. Hoseok leaned back in his seat, glancing down at his phone to see a picture that you had sent him. You were sitting beside Jungkook, who was throwing up a peace sign. Both of you had lunchboxes in front of you and were eating happily.

No patients right now. Time to snack >.< (Sent 1:15 p.m.)

Hoseok smiled a bit, setting his phone face down on the table. While you were at work, he felt at ease. Your mind was somewhat occupied with Jungkook being there, so he could take this time to relax and enjoy the time he had with his friends. However, as his lunch meeting with the others went on, his mind kept wandering about what Yoongi said.

Marriage, huh?

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

“See you tomorrow, Noona~.” Jungkook called happily, waving to you as the both of you exited the doctor’s office. Your shift had finished a few hours later, and it was time to go pick up the girls. Jungkook had offered to lend a hand, but you assured that you would be fine and that Hoseok would be coming home soon anyway. As you waved goodbye, you headed down the street and towards the train station. Pulling out your phone, you saw that Hoseok had sent you a text-only a few minutes prior.

You might make it home before me. I’ve been hanging out with Namjoon and Yoongi-Hyung since lunch and we’ve been doing a lot of catching up. I won’t be too much longer, but I’m a phone call away if you need me. Love you <3 (Sent 3:04 p.m.)

As you continued down towards the train station, you put your phone back in your pocket. You weren’t sure how much longer Hoseok would be out, but you knew that you would most likely be able to get the girls and be home before him. So, your mind began wandering towards what you would make for dinner as you paid the train fee and hopped onto it. The train ride was quiet, as usual. You were never one to strike up a conversation with people on the train, and nobody else seemed to be any different. You just all kind of kept to yourself for about 45 minutes, until people started getting off and on, and the train continued moving down the tracks. It was usually never peaceful because you were constantly frantic about the girls and staying on schedule. However, right now, you felt pretty peaceful. It was nice.

After picking up the girls, you made your way back home. Min Ja had some homework to get started on, so you sent her to her room to begin that, while Hyo Bin was exhausted from her fun day in daycare, so you set her down for a nap.

“Good, they’re occupied for a bit. Hobi should be home soon.” You checked the time. It was just about 5 p.m. “Let’s see…” You began to peruse the cabinets and fridge for ingredients, hoping something would help give you inspiration for that night’s dinner. You were so busy cooking, that it took you a moment to hear your phone was ringing. “Hm?” You glanced over, walking towards it. On the screen was a number you didn’t recognize. “Who the hell is this?” You mumbled, picking it up. “Probably the wrong number.” Despite this thought process, you did decide to answer it, hoping that it would stop the person from calling this number with the false hope it was someone they knew. “Hello?”

“Don’t hang up.” You heard a voice quickly say. As the words entered your ears, your blood ran cold and your heart began to do flips into your throat.

“W-Weong-Bin?” you mumbled, your voice trembling. “What-.”

“I need to speak with you.” He said. “Please.”

“You’re not supposed to contact me. They said they’ll put you in jail if they find out.”

“They won’t find out, then. Please, I need to talk to you.”

“I can’t. I need to hang up.” You pulled the phone from your ear, looking down at the screen. The red “END” button sat there, waiting patiently to be pressed. Just as you were about to do so, you heard Weong-Bin clearly on the other line, despite not being on speakerphone.

“DON’T!” He shouted. You slammed the phone back to your ear, in hopes that the girls wouldn’t hear even though it wasn’t really loud enough. “If you hang up, I swear I’ll keep calling. Just hear me out.” He said sternly. You let out a shaky breath, pressing your back against the counter and looking up at the clock. When the hell was Hoseok coming home?

“Why should I do that?” you asked curiously. “After everything you’ve put me through.”

“Me? Oh, please, you’re such a drama queen. I never would’ve gotten as angry as I did those times if you were such a bitch.” Quickly realizing what he said, he let out a shaky breath. “Okay, forget that. I’m sorry. Seriously, hear me out.”

“…I don’t want to. Please, let me hang up. Leave me alone.” Weong-Bin now wasn’t even bothering to argue with you.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked. “Don’t you love me?”

“…I used to.” You said softly. “Until you started beating me up and tearing me down. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“You know I never meant any of that.”

“I thought you didn’t at first. But I caught you sleeping with someone else and you still act like all our problems were my fault.”

“They were.”

“N-no they weren’t.”

“Well if I’m taking the blame for my actions then you better take the blame for yours too.”

“But you’re not taking any blame. You’re pleading not guilty.” You snapped. “I’m seriously going to hang up.”

“You won’t. Stop lying.” Weong-Bin snapped. “Just stop playing these stupid games. If you want to be with Hoseok so badly, whatever, be a slut. Don’t drag me through the mud.”

“…I’m not dragging you through the mud. You’ve made your choices.”

“I’ve only reacted to how you treat me.”

“Weong-Bin, please-.”

“I love you so much. I’m sorry I’ve put you through so much pain, but are you seriously going to drag your family, our kids, through a trial? What if they say Min Ja has to go up and talk about what happened? She’ll be terrified and scared and you’re going to do it because what? I raised my voice a few times? My hand? I’m not the only guy in Korea to do that.”

“…I know…” you said softly.

“Please.” He begged. “Please. I just don’t want things to end this way…” You sank down onto the floor, running a hand through your hair. “I still love you, regardless of what’s been happening. You know that, right?” You felt a huge lump in your throat as you tried to think of what you could possibly say to that. However, before you could give a response, you heard the door unlock. You glanced over, seeing Hoseok hum happily as he stepped in.

“I’m home.” He cooed, sliding his shoes off as the door closed behind him.

“Don’t tell him who you’re talking to.” Weong-Bin said softly on the phone when he heard the faint sound of Hoseok’s voice. When Hoseok got no response, he tilted his head. “Hello?” As he walked farther into the apartment, he saw you crouched down on the floor. “Hey…” He made his way over to you and knelt down. “You okay?” When he reached out to touch you, he saw you flinch back. He saw how terrified you looked. “What’s wrong?” When he still didn’t get a response, he glanced at the phone. “Hm?” Reaching out, he took the phone from you.

“Hobi, no-.” you tried to take the phone back, but Hoseok quickly stood up.

“Who is this?” he asked.

“…How rude, taking the phone away from someone in the middle of the conversation.” You immediately saw Hoseok’s eyes cast down to you. You couldn’t really read them that well, which was a first for Hoseok.

“Why on earth are you calling?” Hoseok asked, putting a hand in his pocket as he turned away from you. “Did prison make you forget your rules if you made bail?”

“I needed to speak with her.”

“That’s not something you just get to do.”

“Hoseok, stay out of this.”

“I’m not going to. I really don’t understand what is going through your mind right now, are you trying to get yourself arrested? Be my guest, if you are.”

“Don’t play smart with me. It doesn’t suit you.” Weong-Bin scoffed. Hoseok glanced over to you, seeing that you were still crouched down on the floor, no longer looking up at him. Hoseok sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t want me to talk to her? Fine. Let me talk to you.”

“Last time I did that, you tried to knock my lights out at my job. No thank you, I’m not interested in listening.” Hoseok let out another aggravated sigh. Once he did, he could hear you did the same, though instead of aggravation in your voice, it sounded like absolute terror was pouring out of your mouth. “I’ll be nice this time. If you call this place again from now until this whole thing is done, I won’t hesitate to get you thrown back in jail. Got it?”

“Why don’t you just go back home and leave her alone, Hoseok? This didn’t even involve you.”

“This is my house now too, so it does. And not only are you bothering my girlfriend but both of her kids. Don’t call her anymore.” Before Weong-Bin could say anything else, Hoseok hung up the phone. Weong-Bin glanced down at the burner phone he had bought just for this, then to his own phone. The background was exposed to show Min Ja and Hyo Bin, the last time he had them, holding up two pictures that they made together, with a big smile on each of their faces. Though he loved the picture, looking at it only made him angrier as he thought about what Hoseok had just said.

“…His girlfriend? Her kids?” he grumbled to himself. “Really, Jung Hoseok? Is that how you feel, you son of a bitch.” He felt the grip he had on his phone tighten, Weong-Bin let out a frustrated scream of absolute rage, flinging the phone against the wall and shattering it into pieces. Leaning back in his seat, Weong-Bin glanced back down at his phone. He was sick and tired of Hoseok, he hated that boy since they first crossed paths in college. Watching as Hoseok strolled through campus hand in hand with you, smiling as he pulled you into a sea of butterfly kisses and back hugs. The huge grin on your face every time you saw Hoseok across the hall, diverting your attention from the conversation you were having with Weong-Bin, or the project you two were working on, to hurry over and fling yourself into his arms. How students who knew of your relationship always spoke about it as if it were the relationship of two famous idols, or even of royals. How when you finally broke up with Hoseok, you were so depressed about everything. Weong-Bin tried so hard to see that smile again, to make you just as happy – no – happier than you could have ever been with Hoseok, but to no avail. And that baby. That stupid fucking baby that you wanted to keep, to use as an excuse to run back to him when Weong-Bin was bending over backward to provide you with the best of the best.

It pissed him off how you never once looked at him with the same love in your eyes as you had with Hoseok. Not then, and not now. Probably not ever.

Weong-Bin didn’t like that. And if that was going to be the case, then he never wanted you to look at Jung Hoseok ever again. If that meant taking serious measures, then god damn it, he was going to make sure those measures were taken.

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inspired-by-the-music · 5 years ago

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A Brother’s Wrath (Taemin)

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Summary: Your protective older brother (Minho) finds out you’ve secretly been dating Taemin.

Word Count: 1583

Note: This is related to my other drabbles Sorry (Onew) and Anniversary (Minho). So read those if you want to get the full impact of the story!

It was dangerous to ask Taemin to meet you at that cafe down the street from Minho’s apartment. Was it really wise to risk encountering your brothers’ wrath just for some pancakes and coffee for dinner? Maybe you could blame your sudden recklessness on months of successfully hiding your budding romance with Taemin.

“I didn’t know this place was so close to the studio,” Taemin remarked when he joined you at your table. He tried to kiss you; but you were too busy looking over his shoulder to watch the entrance, so he settled for a quick peck on your forehead. As he eased into the seat across from you, he asked, “Why are we hiding from Minho again?”

“Because he’s absolutely insane,” you reminded and took a sip of your coffee. “He’s chased off every boy I’ve ever liked.”

And it wasn’t even an exaggeration. One glance from your brother sent boys running. Taemin was the first boyfriend you’d managed to keep for more than a week, and you knew it was because of your obsessive secretivity.

To amuse you, and to convince you to fully commit to being his girlfriend, Taemin puffed out his chest and asserted, “I’m not afraid of Minho!”

Your eyebrows raised. “Oh yeah?” You gave Taemin an opportunity to reconsider, but when he enthusiastically nodded, you dramatically clapped a hand over your mouth.

“Y/N? What’s the matter—”

“Oh no! He’s here!” It was a lie; and Taemin could have figured that out easily, had he followed your gaze toward the vacant doorway.

However, he was too busy diving under the table to consider that you may be fibbing. It wasn’t until he heart your laughter that Taemin rose from under the table, pouting. “Really, Y/N? That wasn’t funny! I almost had a heart attack!”

“Sorry,” you apologized through giggles, “I thought you weren’t afraid.

You will never know how Taemin planned to retort, but you assumed his response would be dripping with sass; at that moment, Minho entered the cafe with his girlfriend trailing closely behind.

“Taemin—” you hissed through your teeth. “Get back under the table.”

“What?” He asked through a mouthful of your pancakes. “Why?”

“Minho is here.”

You couldn’t blame Taemin for looking at you skeptically— no, utterly disbelievingly. Your joke had been poorly timed, but your stomach dropped as Minho made eye contact with you and Taemin remained sitting upright.

“Really? The same joke twice in a row? You’re losing your—”

“Hey, Y/N!” Taemin came to his senses at Minho’s eager call and slid back under the table.

You had to hope that Minho wouldn’t notice that there were two cups and two plates as he approached your table, still leading his girlfriend by the hand.

“Hey!” You willed your tone to remain even. Forcing convincing casual conversation, you asked, “Isn’t it your anniversary?”

When Minho sighed loudly, his girlfriend rubbed his shoulders comfortingly. Smiling at you softly, she answered, “Yes, but maybe it’s best not to get Minho started about what we’ve been through tonight.”

“No—” Minho breathed deeply. “No, this is the type of misfortune everyone deserves to hear about.” He started to climb into the space next to you in the booth and warned, “Prepare yourself, Y/N—”

In the midst of the scrambling, Minho and Taemin both screamed; thankfully, the cafe was mostly empty, so the only spectators to this display were you and Minho’s girlfriend.

With bulging eyes, Minho screeched, “What is that?”

It was easy to see that the days of secretly dating Taemin had come to an end. Yet even as Minho slouched to glance under the table, and his girlfriend crouched to check for herself, you decided to lie. “Um— nothing?”

Slowly, as if she were trying to give you time to confess, Minho’s girlfriend explained, “I think it’s Taemin.”

“TAEMIN?” Disgusted by your lack of bewilderment and abundance of guilt, Minho frowned at you. “Why is Taemin curled up under your table like a freak?”

It occurred to you that this situation likely could have been avoided. But before you could answer, Taemin crawled out from under the table and, standing above Minho, admitted with a slightly trembling voice, “I was under the table because we’re dating.”

You and Minho’s girlfriend grimaced when Minho jumped up. “Yah! You weirdo! You’re sneaking around with my sister and—”

As Minho started barreling toward Taemin, his girlfriend grabbed him by the back of the shirt. “Choi Minho, get a grip,” she demanded and Minho paused. “Obviously, they were only trying to hide from you because you act like this.”

It was amazing how, for the first time, Minho listened to somebody during one of his tantrums. Brow furrowed, he turned to you to ask, “Is that true?”

His eyes were wide and apologetic; and you felt so bad for concealing your feelings for Taemin instead of having an honest conversation. Sinking into your seat, you nodded sheepishly. “I didn’t want to keep anything from you. You just kind of have a history of traumatizing my boyfriends, and I didn’t want that to happen with Taemin.”

“Well—” Minho tried to rationalize that pattern, but he couldn’t truthfully deny it. So he sat next to you and placed a protective arm around you. “Look, that’s only because you dated a bunch of idiots in school. But Taemin—” Minho looked him over once before deciding, “He’s not so bad. . .”

And of course Taemin interpreted Minho’s ceasefire as an opportunity to reclaim his sass. “Then why did you kick me in the face?”

“I didn’t know you were under the table!” Minho retaliated, but adopted his calmer tone when he met his girlfriend’s disapproving gaze. “But— um— I’m sorry, I guess.”

With hands on her hips, Minho’s girlfriend questioned, “You guess?”

“Fine— just— I’m sorry.”

And Taemin knew how difficult it was for Minho to apologize, so he had no choice but to say, “Alright,” as he slid into the seat across from you. “Sorry I dated Y/N behind your back.”

“I guess I understand,” Minho admitted without meeting Taemin’s eyes.

Figuring that enough progress had been made for one day, you hummed, “Alright, anyway—” and the boys looked at you, bewildered as ever. “Minho— weren’t you telling a story?”

“Oh! Right!” Minho clapped his hands, evidently happy to be reminded of his tale. “So, being the most amazing, most romantic boyfriend in the world, I made these reservations as that upscale restaurant for our anniversary—”

“Oh, honey.” His girlfriend looked up from her phone briefly to interrupt the story. “Don’t get mad, but I think I know why they didn’t let you in.”

Jaw dropped, you smacked your brother on the arm. “They didn’t let you in?”

“That’s embarrassing,” Taemin spoke once more through a mouthful of food.

“First of all,” said Minho, rubbing at his arm, “That hurt, Y/N. And I know that, Taemin, thanks for that brilliant observation.” After rolling his eyes at Taemin, Minho settled his attention on his girlfriend. “Anyway, what do you mean?”

She reminded, “Don’t get mad—”

“I won’t!” But when everyone winced— especially Taemin— Minho adopted his softer tone. “Please explain why my reservation wasn’t honored, dear.”

“Well, you know how we set Jinki up with my friend?” When she received a nod, she continued delicately, rubbing her thumb soothingly over the back of Minho’s hand, “Don’t get mad, but apparently Jinki claimed to be you and. . . well. . .”

Minho blinked wordlessly, and you and Taemin shared a concerned glance. After swallowing harshly and clenching his fists until his knuckles were an unnatural white, Minho said, “I see.” Then he stood, nodded at you and Taemin, and said, “Excuse me— I have to make a phone call.”

His girlfriend only allowed him enough time to step outside and take a breath of air before dismissing herself. “I’m just. . . gonna make sure he doesn’t murder poor Jinki. Good seeing you two.”

You thought you wanted nothing more than for your brother to leave so you could resume your date, but once he was gone, you couldn’t will yourself to even look at Taemin. You were so far beyond embarrassed by everything that just happened, you couldn’t think straight. Now, surely, he wouldn’t want to be with you anymore.

“Hey, Y/N—” Taemin faltered when he noticed your solemn expression. He rushed to your side and wrapped an arm around you in celebration. “We did it! We got Minho’s blessing!” Realizing his description was perhaps a bit too generous, Taemin said, “Okay, well, he said I wasn’t so bad, and that’s a victory. And he apologized for kicking me in the face.”

You still weren’t sharing his smile, so Taemin tried once more to mend your frown. “That really hurt, by the way? Do you think you could kiss it better? It hurts right here.” He pointed to his lips, which he puckered childishly.

Finally you laughed; and, to Taemin’s surprise, you appeased him.

If Taemin was still determined to like you even after your brother caused a huge scene in the middle of a cafe, you weren’t going to encourage him to change his mind.

“I really hope Jinki doesn’t suffer through Minho’s rage,” you said as Taemin laced his fingers through yours.

“Look— he should have thought about that before he stole Minho’s reservation. I thought about it before I started going out with you, and I just barely survived that risk. That’s just a part of knowing Minho.”

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maxineswritingcenter · 5 years ago

Text

Take it on the Run - Dean Winchester part 3

Read part 2 here!

Warnings: mention of sex, fluff

Summary: After a month long, whirl-wind romance with the new guy in town (Dean), he ghosts, as if he never existed. You are devastated, eating plenty of ice cream, your friend decides to take you out for drinks and karaoke. Maybe something happens who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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"You're doing what?!" I pulled the phone away from my ear as (Y/F/N)'s shrill voice came through the receiver.

"I said I'm going out with Dean tonight-"

"No, I heard you. Loud and clear. Fuzzybritches, are you hearing this crap?" A soft mew followed. Fuzzybritches was as old as I was and, as (Y/F/N) put it, as wise as a mountain. Which made as much sense as it sounded.

"You're involving Fuzzy so you must not be that mad." I said as I pulled into the diner Dean asked me to meet him at. It had become a regular meeting place before he left. It had the classic diner feel and at the same time felt like grandma's kitchen, comfortable and familiar.

"The jury is still out on Mr. Winchester." Was all they said.

"Whatever." I said, not really paying attention because I saw the Baby pull up next to me.

"Like your voice changes when you're around him. You sound in love, it's disgusting." They said, scoffing.

"I'm hanging up now." I said. Dean looked over and mouthed my friend's name. I nodded, opening and closing my hand to mimic their jabber. Dean got out, coming around to open my door for me. I decided to put it on speaker phone.

"Hey (Y/F/N)." He said, a bright and intoxicatingly handsome smile on his face.

"Dean." They said, a grumpy mew following.

"I give you my word. I won't leave like that again. I think you'd hunt me down if I tried." He said, helping me out of the car.

"He's smart. I'll give him that." They said after a short pause.

"Goodbye!" I said, hanging up the phone. "Sorry." I said, leaning back against my door.

"Awh they're fine." He said, leaning over and kissing my cheek. This slight and minut gesture made my heart race. He led me inside where we were sat down in a booth. The seats were plastic cushions that would definitely be sticking to my thighs when I try to get up later (why did I wear shorts?), so looking forward to that. Darlene, the local waitress who had a thick southern accent even though she wasn't from the south, came up to us. Her golden blonde curls bouncing.

"Hey y'all!" She said, pulling a small notebook and pen out of her apron pocket, "Been a while since I saw you two." She looked at Dean, "And don't worry, we got fresh pie waitin' fer ya."

Dean smiled, tapping his hand on the table, "Now that's what I like to hear." We ordered our drinks and food before being left to ourselves.

"So how was your day?" He asked. The simplicity of the question was strange. If what he said was true, he was a a trained gun. He has probably killed people. But he was here in this diner. With me. Enjoying the simplicity.

"Uh, good. Kinda. My coworker didn't come into work this morning. He called in sick even though we were supposed to be working on a project together. To be honest, I'm not surprised. He's kind of a flake anyway." I sighed. Trevor, the coworker in question, was a pretty unreliable when it came to group projects. It was odd because he emailed me some reports last night and didn't mention that he was sick.

"Sounds like a douche." He said, leaning back against the booth.

"What about you? What have you been up to?" I asked, crossing my arms and leaning on the table. He smirked at me, his dimples making an appearance.

"Oh I've been around." He had a look in his eyes, that mischievous look that made me shiver. Because they were oh so similar to his bedroom eyes.

"What have you got planned, mister?"

He shrugged, "You'll see." Before I could say more, Darlene returned with our drinks and food, the subject temporary forgotten.

After pie and paying, we left the diner. Dean went ahead and opened the passenger side of the Impala for me.

"Oh what a gentleman." I pressed a hand to my chest. I sat inside, looking over the interior. He once told me that he had rebuilt this car plenty of times. Keeping a few touches that had been there forever. The army man that Sam shoved into the ashtray was a cute touch. He also said that he had shoved Legos into the vents and when you turned on the heat you could hear them rattle.

Dean got into the driver's side and twisted the key to start up the car. The purr of the engine could probably put me to sleep if I stayed long enough.

"I got a little surprise planned, just sit back and relax." He drew out the last word as he turned on the radio. The tell-tale guitar started playing, surprising me.

"Fleetwood Mac?" I asked, they were one of my favorite bands growing up. Landslide was probably my favorite song of all time.

He nodded, singing to the opening verse, "Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise

Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies..." The Chain could get anyone pumped up, it was the perfect song a trip down the road, going plenty over the speed limit.

"Can I open my eyes now." Dean had me blindfolded with a bandana. I was leaned up against the Impala, arms crossed because of the cold.

"Just a minute, sweetheart." He said as he shut the trunk of the Impala.

"If I didn't know any better, this is some serial killer behavior." I teased. I heard him laugh and then heard the sound of what sounded like fabric.

"Oh you'll see." He clicked his tongue, "There." There was the sound of soft grass under his boots as he walked towards me. I felt his hands pull off the bandana.

"Eyes closed." He said, "Just trust me." I sighed but complied. He took my hands in his own, leading me down a small hit and out a few feet.

"Here we are..." He moved around behind me, "And open." When I opened my eyes, I felt my cheeks getting sore from the smile on my face. He had laid out a large flannel blanket and a couple pillows. There was an open cooler in the corner, a couple beers and fruity drinks inside. There were small citronella candles flickering away. The sun was setting, giving the scene a warm glow.

"Dean...." I whispered. Not really knowing what to say. It looks like it's straight out of a Pinterest post pinned by some girl with too many y's in her name and captioned: goals. But here I was, experiencing goals.

"You said you wanted to go star gazing. And I think it will give us a chance to... Reconnect emotionally." He said as if the words were rehearsed.

"Those are Sam's words." I teased, turning to look at him. He shrugged, "He's useful sometimes."

"It's...this is amazing, Dean. Really... This is all I could have asked for. " I really couldn't describe how I felt. It was so grand and the same time it was so simple.

We had been lying there for hours, talking about anything that we could think of. Our lives, our families. He was still keeping secrets, but I didn't care. I was lying on my side, resting my head on a pillow. I could tell that he probably snuck them out of the motel he was staying in. The position he was in reminded me of a particularly steamy encounter.

My chest was heavy heavily, my hair was sticking to the sides of my face. Five times. I didn't think five times was possible. But as Dean put it, the sounds that I was making were payment enough for the incredible things that man could do. He had traced his tongue over every tattoo he could find. The falling angel, the white wing dove, the Mississippi moon, the Celtic infinity knot, and the most sensitive, the crystal on my hip. I sat up on my elbows, turning to look at the Adonis next to me and a softness filled my heart. He was lying there, his chest rising and falling steadily. One of his hands was on his stomach, the other behind his head. A smile plastered on his face, his nose (which was extremely adorable, I didn't know having an adorable nose was even possible), and his eyes were completely focused on me in a look that I could only describe as adoration. Even as I met his eyes, he didn't look away. He continued to stare. Continued to smile.

There he was again, staring at me now. This look had much more meaning than it did before. It was after we just had sex when all our dopamine was rushing to our brains. No, this was just being in each other presence. No need for sex, not even a kiss, just each other.

"What are you thinking?" I whispered. I wanted to reach out and touch him but I was too afraid to ruin this moment.

He grinned, the tip of his tongue poking out from underneath his teeth, "Do you remember that drive we took? Just hours and hours of driving to nowhere?"

Oh my God, oh God, oh Jesus Christ. Was he talking about what I think he's talking about? Oh God, my heart is in my throat.

"Of course." My voice was barely there, practically a whisper in the wind.

"You told me something that scared the living shit out of me." He said, there was a slight shake in his voice. Okay. Words I was not expecting. The disappointment is creeping in.

"You told me you loved me and I uh..." He paused, not meeting my gaze, "Only one other woman has ever said that to me. She ultimately got hurt because of me." Is he pushing me away? What does this mean? I would hate for my whole Pinterest goals moment to end like this.

"She got hurt because I thought it was safe, I loosened up. I wasn't at my best. Sam was gone..." He shook his head, "Gone at the hospital. He got really sick. My mind was everywhere. But that doesn't excuse that she got hurt. But when I look at you..." He reached a hand out, cupping my face, "I know that no force on heaven, earth, or hell could ever take you away from me. I...." He brought himself closer to me. I could feel his hot breath against my lips, his eye lashes batting against mine.

"I love you."

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AWWW it's happy! For now.

You can read part 4 here!

Reblogs and likes if you liked it!

Songs mentioned if you're interested:

Landslide - Fleetwood Mac

The Chain - Fleetwood Mac

Any Led Zeppelin

Edge of Seventeen - Stevie Nicks

Black Water - The Doobie Brothers

Any Metallica

Crystal - Stevie Nicks

Taglist:

(shoot me an ask if you want to be added!)

@happy-little-marvel

@lsrgekwhtvr

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural imagine #supernatural

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angrylizardjacket · 6 years ago

Text

when i said it i thought it was true [1] {Ben Hardy}

Anon asked: could you do an imagine where ben is the reader’s ex and they are somehow working together on the set of bo rhap and they fall in love all over again ☺️ could you make it angst-y and then end with fluff? i love your writing so much!!

Anon asked: could you do an imagine where the reader is in bo rhap, maybe playing as one of roger’s gfs or something and she kind of falls in love with ben while filming the scenes with him as roger 💖 very fluffy pls :D

A/N: 3124 words. Super AU version of BoRhap being filmed in the fic. There’s gonna be another part, that will fill the prompts better. This might end up being a series. I hope you enjoy. Feedback would be nice.

When your manager rings you, telling you that you’d landed a part in the Queen Biopic Bohemian Rhapsody, you were elated. Freddie Mercury was a bit of a personal hero of yours, and to be a part of his story on the big screen, it was sort of a dream come true.

In your first meeting, you sign a nondisclosure agreement, and you’re given the latest draft of the script to start learning, as well as a character brief. The script calls your character ‘Amanda’, the girlfriend of Roger Taylor who he eventually realises he wants to settle down with. You’d seen pictures of young Roger Taylor, you wouldn’t lie, you were excited for the role. Honestly, even today he was still quite a fox.

The point is, you were excited to have a fun time on set with a pretty blonde, make some new connections, and earn some good money. Some really good money.

The other shoe drops when you’re flicking through Instagram, and one of the stan accounts you follow has posted a leaked screenshot of the proposed cast list, and there’s your name, right beside the name of the last person you wanted to pretend to be in love with. Ben Hardy; pretty blonde extraordinaire, and your ex-boyfriend.

The table read is... awkward.

The two of you are sat next to each other, and barely spoke two words to each other. You feel unprofessional the whole time, but you’d rather be anywhere else in the world, and the delivery of some of your lines falls a little flat. The director casts a concerned look between yourself and Ben as you rattle of what’s meant to be banter like you’re reading the news paper.

“They’ve got no damn chemistry; it’s like watching a celebrity divorce hearing.” When the Director vents to one of the producers in the hall outside after the reading, you manage to catch it where you’re just about to come out of the bathroom.

“They’ll be better on set, I promise, it’s just jitters.” She tries to soothe his nerves, and they’re off soon after, and you’re left with a cold, sinking sensation in your stomach.

“You’re Y/N, aren’t you? How are you finding the set?” The guy who greets you on your first day on the Eastenders set smiles with such casual ease it feels like you’ve known him for a while, instead of having just met him.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You agree with a quick nod, rocking back on your heels as you gaze around the space, trying not to look at him for too long. “It’s a bit overwhelming.” Actually, what’s overwhelming is that he’s talking to you. He’s Ben fucking Hardy, pretty-boy on the soap-opera scene, and he’s talking to you on your first day.

“Yeah, you’ll be right though; if you need any help or anything, just give us a yell, yeah?” And you realise he probably doesn’t know who you’re playing, or how you’re involved in that Season’s arc, but you certainly did.

“I didn’t know you could play drums.” You’re trying to be casual when you say it, but you see Ben tense where he’s sitting on a sofa in the rehearsal room, script and pencil in hand.

“I can now, that’s all that really matters.” He’s giving off such strong ‘please leave me alone’ vibes that it almost hurts, and you have to push through the knot in your stomach and sit down next to him.

“Ben, we need to at least be civil.” You say quietly, and he looks at you, expression a little forlorn.

“Y/N, we are civil, and we’ve done this before. Let’s just keep it professional, okay?” His tone leaves little room for argument, and you nod in agreement with a small smile, and pull out your phone, waiting for the rehearsal director.

“Hey there, baby, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here; I know I’d recognise your face.” You purr, running your hand delicately over the collar of Ben’s shirt, as his eyes widened and he spluttered to form a sentence, just as the script had told him to.

Your character was more a plot device than anything, when Ben’s character is at a low point, his main romance is on a break, and he meets you, a temptress in all black. Your job is to give his character a realisation, he starts as your cocaine dealer when his supplier can’t make the drop, and he falls for you. Depending on the audience reaction, you knew the producers were waiting to see if they kill you off or have you recover from your addiction. The point is, your fate’s uncertain at the end of the Season, and Ben’s character realises he has to get out of the drug trade.

“I’ve got something for you, from Oskar. Can we go somewhere more private?” When he speaks, it’s with surprising confidence, and he steps up from the bar stool and into your space, smiling as your face lights up. The director calls cut after a moment, and you step back, smile sliding to something genuine as an assistant comes in and straightens your loose, black silk shirt, and they reset the shot for a new take.

“Ben, could you try less flustered? You’re here to deliver drugs, you’re not a schoolboy.” The director’s voice was kind as she came up to the two of you, and Ben agreed easily before she turned to you. “Great job, Y/N, don’t be afraid to be more even more forward, if you feel it.” As soon as you nod in understanding, she absconds, and you half laugh.

“If I was any more forward I’d be in your lap.” You snickered, voice quiet as you dipped your head to hide how you were faintly flustered. Ben was quiet, just watching you for a moment, but before you noticed, the director called for everyone to standby.

“I’m after Maggie, do you know where I could find her?” Ben starts as soon as the cameras start rolling, brow furrowed as he leans across the bar to speak to the bartender, and that’s your cue to enter the scene.

“Hey there, baby, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here; I know I’d recognise your face.” And when you say it this time, he smirks back at you, a little cocky, and you can feel the way it makes your heart flutter and you know it’s not as fake as it should be.

Before filming even starts, the producers have essentially forced you and Ben into bonding sessions which, if this were several years ago, would have just been dates. Now they’re awkward and tense, and you tend to bring heavily highlighted scripts.

“I saw you in that Wes Anderson movie last year. It was a really good performance, one of your best.” He offers over coffee. The idea that he’d kept up with enough of your work to label one ‘your best’ has you a little shocked, and something in your heart warms as you thank him softly.

It’s gotten easier to hang around with him, and it’s even easier to pretend to be in love with him in rehearsals. It’s like riding a bike, how easy it is to let yourself smile and lean into him, to let the banter flow easily between the two of you, fond jabs that edge on insulting coming as easily as breathing.

Joe mentions that he thought the two of you worked together before, and when you reply that you’d dated for almost a year, he goes very quiet, eyes going wide. After a beat, he admits it explains a lot.

“X-Men did you real dirty.” You’re half paying attention to an interview with Roger Taylor that the two of you had been instructed to watch together. You’re both in his trailer, sitting on opposite ends of the sofa as you watch in almost complete silence.

“What?” He asks, after a beat, your words having taken a moment to process.

“Killing you off like that; they could have gotten so much mileage out of your character.” The way you say it is far too well thought out to be an idle thought. Ben smirked.

“You just liked the leather pants.” He muttered, but you’re silence is answer enough. You know he sees your embarrassed smile, but you can’t bring yourself to deny it.

“Hey, do you wanna grab a drink after and go through notes and blocking and stuff?” You’re shooting your third episode, and you’re far more comfortable on set by now. Agreeing easily, you let Ben drive the two of you to what he claims is the best pub in town, and you sit in one of the more secluded booths to talk.

It turns out he’s just as much a fan of you as you are of him; you’re known more for your bit-parts in long-running series, it seems like the only show you hadn’t been a part of so far had been Eastenders, it was only a matter of time. It’s an innocent night, true to his word, all you do is talk, and discuss the script. There is one part of the upcoming script that has you a bit nervous.

“Listen, honestly just go for it; it’s not meant to be sweet or anything, I’m literally taking coke from you.” You tell him, fidgeting, and he’s hums thoughtfully.

“You sure? We can talk to the director, I’m sure-” He offers, but you laugh to hide your nervousness.

“Nah, let’s knock it out of the park, the script says go for it so just go for it.” You assured him, heart rate already quickening at the mere thought of it.

The next day, before the scene, the director comes over to talk you through it, making sure that if anything becomes uncomfortable, that you can talk to her. Both you and Ben assure her that it’s fine.

“You’re far too cute for this line of work.” You say as you hold a baggie of “cocaine” up to the light, smile playing on your lips.

“Cute? Ouch, you really know how to wound a man, you know.” He says, leaning back against the sofa in the hallway of the grubby hotel your character was staying in. He’s watching you with interest, small smile playing on his lips.

“Cute’s not a bad thing, baby, but you look like you should be making coffees or playing football in the sun, not here, not with me.” And you tap out a little of the powder onto your hand, pretending to snort it before you turn to him, his expression dark and hungry, and he kisses you, aggressive, almost desperate, and you lean into it, almost forget you’re playing a role with his hand on the back of your neck. When he lets go, when he pulls away, your eyes are still closed and you chase his lips for a moment. Eyes flickering open, you see him smirking down at you where he’s standing, and you both know it wasn’t entirely acting.

“You don’t know anything about me.” He growls, and you know you have to smile like you’re into it, like it’s a challenge, but instead, you duck your gaze, giving a small laugh and wiping at the nostril you’d just “snorted cocaine” through, before looking up at him through your eyelashes.

They call cut, and the director announces, almost a little awed, that she’s pretty sure they got the the take, actually says she’s not sure if she could getting a better take if they tried again. Ben seems far too pleased with himself.

“They want us to tell the public we’re together.” You’re resting your head on Ben’s chest laying at the back of the tour-bus set, and his hand is resting on your waist, which is bare for the crop top and booty shorts they’ve put you in.

“Yeah, I heard.” He replies, voice equally quiet. “I think we’ve got a meeting about it tomorrow morning.” Gwil and Rami are actually playing scrabble at the front of the bus, and Joe is talking to Singer, the director.

“It’s a bad idea.” You’re so frank that you feel Ben freeze, and you heave a sigh. “It’s good for the movie, but Ben...” You trail off, and you feel it when he forces himself to relax. “It wouldn’t be real, it would just be weird.”

“Y/N, we’re actors.” He says very pointedly, and when you turn, resting your chin on his chest, he looks tired, a little exasperated. “It’s just a business deal.” He assured, and you let out a low, thoughtful grumble.

“We’ll discuss it tomorrow.” You allow, and he nods once, shifting to a more comfortable position, and you go back to resting your head on his chest, eyes fluttering closed as Singer called for the shot to be reset and a bunch of people came and straightened your clothes, and touched up your makeup, all without you having to move much.

You agree to the terms set forth in the meeting easily, the story being that your relationship rekindled on set, and that you were now madly in love, mirroring the relationship you were portraying on screen.

“Wait, does that mean-?” Ben leans forward in his chair, with his heart in his throat as he followed their logic, thinking through the plot of the movie. “Like engaged?” He asked.

“Seems a bit fast.” You agreed, voice level enough that someone might mistake you for calm rather than internally freaking out, and your managers shared a look.

“There will be a public proposal during or after the world premiere, that’s up to you both, and after the movie is out on DVD, you can go your separate ways.” They assured, but your mouth fell open.

“You know he left me for X-Men, right?” You splutter, and Ben’s eyes widen as he turns to you with a scoff.

“You’re the one who said the distance was too much for us while I was in Cairo.” He snapped, and you threw your hands in the air.

“I was offering to come and stay with you instead, but you said you were too busy!” That was enough to shut him up, his mouth snapping closed as he turned away sharply, huffing out a resigned sigh.

“We have a few brands and restaurants who are interested in sponsoring, and the producers are willing to increase both your salaries if you go through with it for the full duration.” Your manager informed you both carefully, and you and Ben shared a resigned look.

“Fake intend to marry me for like three months?” He asked, voice low and bitter, and after heaving a long sigh, you look to your managers,

“Fine.”

“I think I love you.” Ben’s character shows up at your character’s door, and you open it in a silk robe.

“Hello to you too.” You laughed, but he’s so serious, so sincere, and when he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t offer anything else, you step up to him, pressing your lips to his, and he wraps his arms around you, hands sliding against the silk over your hips, and you pull back.

“You’re too sweet for me, baby,” voice so low it’s barely a whisper, he’s the one who chases your lips this time, but your catch his chin, and his eyes open.

“You’re high.” He says softly, voice raw and a little desperate.

“And you’re my dealer.” You push him back gently, going to close the door and his expression turns angry.

“That doesn’t mean anything; I love you, Maggie.” His words hang heavily in the air, but before you can respond, they call for cut. You’re told to play it more like it hurts to try and turn him down, and you agree, smiling and nodding all the while. Everyone sets up for another take and you close the door.

When you kiss him this time, his hands are holding your face, and you’ve got your arms around his neck, and it’s like the world falls away from around you. It’s not acting now, hasn’t been for weeks, almost months now, not since he’d asked you out officially. Every time you kiss him you’re desperate to drown in his embrace, and he kisses you like it’s just the two of you, no cameras, no scripts.

“You’re-” and he cuts you off with another quick kiss, which has you laughing a little sadly, “Peter you’re too sweet for me.” He rests his forehead against yours, heaving a sigh.

“I know you’re high.” He says gently, and you don’t push him away this time, just lean back, your finger lifting his chin.

“And you’re my dealer.” You tell him, expression falling.

“That doesn’t mean anything, that doesn’t matter; I love you.” And you know that in that moment, the words mean so much more than the script, than these characters, than the show; he loves you. Ben loves you.

You avoid him, outside of filming, until you actually get a call from your manager telling you you’re contractually obligated to be seen in public together at least once a week. Even while filming you’re short with him, and he’s quick to get away from you the moment he doesn’t need to be around you, which was getting to be pretty bad, seeing as how you had been blocking a sex scene.

After the call, you and Ben get a drink. It’s awkward at first, though that’s unsurprising. After a long sip of his beer, he pats his thighs where he’s sitting in the armchair across from you. You make a face at him, shaking your head.

“It’ll look less suspicious than if we’re shouting at each other across the table.” He hissed, and you groaned, obliging and crossing to sit yourself in his lap. He’s warm and secure, and he wraps his arm around you like it’s second nature. “Let’s not make this weird.” He said gently, and you nod.

“As for tomorrow’s shoot,” you said softly, leaning in to make sure no-one else heard, and he nodded, humming softly, “we’re professionals, and,” after a beat you cleared your throat pointedly, “it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“Not in front of a camera crew we haven’t.” Ben says with a smirk, and you snicker in agreement. “It’s gonna go fine; this is all gonna go fine, I promise.” And when you raise your eyebrows at him in surprised question, he just laughs softly, and brings you in for a chaste kiss. “It’s only until the DVD’s released.” He assures you, and you let your expression fall, already weary.

“Ben, that’s over a year away.”

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #queen #queen imagines #eastenders #eastenders imagines #the angry lizard writes

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tydy-the-megnet · 6 years ago

Text

Actual Human, 19

Based on @queenbrickisinariver's high quality meme. This is an AU, clearly

...

Callum sighed as he scrolled aimlessly through profile after profile of horny women on his Look Forum app. "You can find that special someone if you just 'look forum.'" he said, reveling in his own mocking voice. Why he had let Ezran make him a dating profile, he'd never know.

His little brother could be scarily persuasive at times.

"Because you need to find a girlfriend. You need to get over Claudia already."

It helped, of course, that Ezran was right. He usually was, in fact.

But still, to be put on the Look Forum seemed almost pathetic.

"Why would I even want to be with anyone from--?" Callum froze, his thumb hovering over yet another profile.

Rayla, Actual Human, 19.

70 miles away.

Hello I am real human. I enjoy activities such as discussing money and eating unhealthy amounts of bad food.

Accompanying the odd bio was a picture of a cute young woman with hair white as snow and skin so pale it appeared almost purple in whatever lightning she was under. Upon further inspection, two pieces of wood seemed to jut out of her hair like horns, and two deep purple marks were painted on her cheeks.

In other words, Callum realized, she looked like an elf. And well, he thought, what more did he need than an actual human with a sense of humor?

...

It had been a stupid bet. If it hadn't been for that pesky squirrel, she wouldn't be in this mess. But she lost, fair and square, and now Rayla was stuck with a profile on an online dating app.

A human dating app. She just hoped Runaan didn't find out. He would definitely take it the wrong way.

Oh well. She'd leave it up for a few days and then delete it once the others forgot about it. Or at least, that had been the plan.

But then she got a message from someone named Callum.

"Hello, fellow human. I also enjoy eating bad food. Shall we discuss which bad foods are the worst?"

Despite herself, Rayla quirked a smile. She couldn't believe her half-baked profile had gotten a hit, but it was pretty clear that this guy was also an elf. A skywing elf, if his looks were anything to go by. He could probably pass as human -- or perhaps he just worked on a disguise for his dating profile.

She responded after pondering the man, "Nice, did you lose a bet, too?"

...

She had lost a bet. Callum wasn't surprised. From what he could tell from the picture on Rayla's profile, she was stunningly beautiful. Why would she be on such a lame site other than a bet?

"No," he answered, "My brother talked me into trying to find a girlfriend."

"Well you haven't got a very good selection on here, have ya?"

Callum laughed out loud, a snort escaping him as he leaned back in his chair. It was true, too many of the people on Look Forum we're weirdos. But then, trying to flirt, Callum replied, "Well I found you. That's a plus."

...

Rayla couldn't stop heat from getting in her cheeks. He was right. While the rest of his options were rotten humans, he had managed to stumble upon her temporary joke profile.

Maybe- maybe this was destiny? The idea that some random event could lead to her meeting her true love was a bit far-fetched, and she was loathe to believe it, but--

Well, he was cute. She might as well give him a shot. But she wouldn't be hasty either, she decided. Stowing away her fleeting thoughts, she settled into her seat and sent her next reply.

"Oh you’re a charmer.” she typed.

"Heh, I try. So, I like to draw. What do you like to do?"

"Well," she sent, wondering what to put. She liked training to be an assassin, but she didn't want to say that, obviously, "I'm pretty athletic, and I like to do parkour."

"Oh, that's cool. It'd be fun to draw you flipping through the air." He replied, and moments later, "Wait, that sounded weird. I JUST MEANT IF YOU WERE OK WITH IT."

It was weird, Rayla thought, but as more heat pooled in her face, she figured she didn't mind. No one had ever wanted to draw her before, after all.

She typed an answer after a moment, hesitating before sending the message. Her thumb hovered over that blue arrow, and she clenched her eyes shut as she forced the finger down, heartbeat going wild.

...

"I mean if you really want to we can meet up sometime and you can draw me?"

Callum stared at the message.

No matter how long he started, it didn't vanish, so he stared some more. After a couple of minutes, dancing dots showed up under them, showing Rayla was typing again, but the words still didn't disappear.

Then the dots did vanish, and reappear, and vanish again. Callum realized with a start that he hadn't replied.

"Oh! Um okay. That sounds like fun. When and where?"

The boy gulped, disbelieving that he was setting up a date with a random girl from Look Forum. He was similarly awestruck through the rest of the conversation, barely processing the plans the girl was making.

Next Sunday? That small village near the Xadian border? There was a clearing near there with some rock faces that were good for her sort of thing, and a nice little shop in town to dine that day as well.

Huh, "I have a date. I have a date!" Callum jumped up, "I HAVE A DATE!"

"I glad it worked out for you, but can you be quiet, Callum?" Ezran said, glaring at him from where he poked his head through the doorway, "Nobody likes a loud dork."

"Sorry, Ez."

...

Sunday came too quickly, Rayla decided. She never came up with a good excuse for Runaan and the others, so she just told them she'd be back later and bolted from the campsite.

The outcropping -- the site of her date -- was a nice little spot she had found a couple days ago as her group was travelling through. It was fun to jump around rocks and pretend like she was fighting humans atop them.

What wasn't fun, however, was seeing a human looking at his phone on those rocks when she needed to get ready.

Silently, she sneaked up behind the oblivious human, a young male by the looks. Bringing her swords up, she quickly swiping forwards, bringing the twin blades up to his neck and readying herself to intimidate him into leaving.

"Ah sorry please don't kill me I have a date today!" The boy's arms jolted upward, the phone coming clearly into view at her eye level, where she could easily spot...

... herself?

"Where did ya get tha' photo?"

His head tilted upward, and Rayla almost caught a glimpse of his face, "Oh, that's Rayla. She's my date today. She told me to meet her here, so I'm sorry if this is private property or-"

"Callum?"

The world froze around them, and Callum slowly -- cautiously, minding the swords -- turned to look at her.

"Rayla?"

"Yer a human?"

"You-you're an elf?"

They stared blankly at each other as moments passed by. The world slowly started moving again, and Rayla was reminded of those scenes in romance novels where two soulmates meet and the world falls into place.

This felt nothing like that.

"Why were you on a human dating app?" Callum asked, his accusing tone biting through their close proximity.

"Ah, I, uh, lost a bet." Rayla stammered, "Why did you talk to me?"

"I thought you were a human."

"Do I look like a human?" She snapped.

"I thought you were being funny, like with your bio."

"What do-"

"Look," He said, and Rayla was tempted to keep talking through his interruption as an unholy fury began to roar in her heart, "Can-can you put the swords down? They're really unnerving."

"What-why-why didja think it was supposed ta be funny!?" She glared at the boy in lieu of lowering her weapons, "And why wasn't it obvious that I was an elf?"

"I figured an elf wouldn't use a human dating service!"

That--that was a fair point, Rayla decided, as her anger befan to fade. She nodded slowly, her hard stare still piercing Callum's presence.

"Can-can you lower the swords now?"

Almost unwillingly, she did so.

"And, uh, you're not gonna drink my blood or anything, are you?"

"Wha? No! What do you think elves are? Bloodthirsty monsters!?"

"I don't know! I've never met an elf before! I don't really know anything about them!" He raised his hands in surrender when the swords came up to his neck again.

"Well, lesson one: we don't drink blood."

"I, uh, got it. No blood. Taste bad."

She nodded sternly, lowering her blades again and finally stowing them away. She stared at Callum for another tense moment, before turning to leave.

Runaan would definitely never hear of this.

...

Rayla wasn't entirely sure how she got here.

It seemed obvious, she had walked here with Callum, into the small village to get something to eat. She just didn't really know how that happened.

As she scarfed down her own meal, silently sneaking glances to observe Callum's impeccable manners, she thought back to his words.

"Are you still interested in eating and talking about bad food?"

She just didn't know how she got here, sitting with him in a booth and eating a meal that honestly wasn't terrible.

She had been leaving, walking away from the unfortunate encounter with the rotten human. But a nervous smile and simple question later, and here she was.

"Wow," Callum said finally, his voice cutting through the tension like a sunforged blade through butter, "I guess you don't think it's that bad, huh?" He set down his utensils and dabbed his lips with a cloth, "You got a little something... everywhere."

Rayla blushed, taking her own cloth and wiping her entire face from the top down while he chuckled.

"It's not the worst," she mumbled.

"Well, humans have plenty of much better food, if you ever want to try it."

His smile seemed to thread lightning through her veins -- not an unpleasant sort of lightning, though -- and she nearly choked on her bread.

"Maybe."

"And if you're still interested," He added hesitantly, his words trailing off into oblivion as he raised his book to the table.

He opened to a middle page and showed her a sketch -- a remarkable likeness of her from the photo she used on Look Forum, though she noticed she looked human on the paper.

"I'd love to draw you," he said, and suddenly the lightning was very pleasant.

#callum #rayla #rayllum #raylum #the dragon prince #tdp #fanfiction #actual human 19 #human #elf #online dating #au #look forum #a brilliant pun by megan #thanks darling youre the best

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soundofseventeen · 6 years ago

Text

Moments (OT13)

Life is coming at me in every direction, but I’m leaving you with this. I guess it’s movies y’all watch with them and they realize how much they love you? I’m not sure. Happy Valentine’s Day. -Bee

Seungcheol: The Princess Bride; there’s something about this particular film that puts him in a romantic mood. He likes hearing you quote the sentences you know and sighing every time you hear the words “true love”. He likes that you don’t notice him staring at you because you’re too engrossed at everything, and he loves that when you sit between his legs, he can rest his chin on your shoulder and whisper along to the movie. His favorite part is when you ask if you can watch it again, and all he says is, “As your wish,” and kisses your cheek.

Jeonghan: Charlie St. Cloud; being someone who’s really close with (and protective of!) his family, this is a movie that would resonate with him. He takes the roles he has a lot more seriously than he lets on, so his reactions are appropriate, even going as far asking what you’d do if that was you after the movie was over. He holds you close, afraid you’d disappear while he’s on the phone with his sister, reminding her that their bond is unbreakable

Joshua: A Cinderella Story; a film that balances the realism and the sprinkle of happily ever after, this is one you can agree on because it’s a classic. He’d make an offhand comment or two about owning a retro diner with the roller skates uniform and snuggling close to you and pouting when you remark how much Carter reminds you of him, but in your real life, the nerd (and best friend!) got you instead of the jock. You adore enveloping him in your arms, rocking him against your arms slowly and playing with his hair until you can hear him sleeping

Soonyoung: The Kissing Booth; He doesn’t quite understand why you like bad boys or why Americans would go through the trouble of one person kissing many people. He has his head in hands and the entire time y’all are watching it together, he’s groaning. “It’s so problematic, Jagiya. Why do you like this?” “The future isn’t certain.” “Mine is. As long as you’re in it.” “Ours is, but not all of them.” You smile after rolling your eyes, reminding him that’s a movie and he is the perfect example of a bad boy...because he’s so bad at everything. When he pouts, you kiss him, because he is your type, not the fictional boy on the screen

Junhui: The Fault in Our Stars; although he refuses to watch it all the way to the end, he loves the whirlwind romance and the process of falling in love at a young age. He’s the type to play it over dinner and in the middle of your conversation of dirty socks or something, he gets the biggest grin on his face and recites Augustus’s famous, “I am in love with you…” speech, which of course shuts you up and has you looking at your food, avoiding contact until he gently lifts your chin with his pointer finger as he finishes, “...the only earth we’ll ever have and I am in love you.” He laughs softly when he sees how red you are, and stopping a few minutes after, because he insists they deserve that little bubble of happiness as long as they can have it because Death is a cruel Fate that shouldn’t rip away love like that.

Wonwoo: The Notebook; being the type that writes his love story day by day, it doesn’t surprise you that he’d choose this to watch with you whenever the opportunity arises. He likes having the blanket draped over you two while you lean against him, hands loosely interlaced and occasionally squeezing his when you feel emotional and even though you know the outcome of it, it makes you afraid of what’ll happen if you ever lost Wonwoo or the memories you made. He keeps his journal with him, shyly reading the latest entry of your newest adventure if you request it and writing more when you remind him of the details

Jihoon: Letters to Juliet; he isn’t one to ask for advice on his relationship, but he’s impressed how people all over the world go to Italy to ask for help. Even after you proved time and again how even realists deserve happiness, he remains skeptical, but you’re there to reassure him with a smile letters can cure anything. He is displeased at how far fetched the whole story seems, but you just let him rant while you’re curled at his side, pressing kisses to the corner of his jaw. “Would you consider me an idiot if I ever courted you while you were in a balcony?” “I think I’d die of happiness first.” “I was afraid of that.” The closest thing he’d ever come to that is serenading you in a closed arena while you were onstage and he was somewhere in the first row

Seokmin: Ella Enchanted; musicals and happily ever after is the key to Seokmin’s heart, which you learned right away. You’re more focused on his childlike wonder and his expressions, committing them to memory. It doesn’t matter if you’re watching it on your laptop in bed or on the TV in the living room, it’s the enchantment that you feel surrounding you when he’s holding your hand and staring at you lovingly when he breaks his gaze from the screen, and kissing you breathless because he believes fairytales are real because he’s living it at the moment

Mingyu: Corpse Bride; he’s a fan of Tim Burton and his movies, but this one holds a special place in his heart because you were the one who recited the vows to him while feeding him popcorn one night when he was feeling down. Now every time he watches it with you, all he envisions is slipping a ring on your finger, asking you to be his before you knock out of his reverie and he does is smile at you and pulls the blanket higher up on you so you won’t get cold and snuggles closer to you

Minghao: To All the Boys I Loved Before; he watches this movie with you to make you squirm because he won’t let you live down the fact that you wrote him a love letter instead of a letter of encouragement for him to read while he’s away. But it paid off because you get to hear him giggle in your ear when you’re leaning into him to get comfortable. He likes to play with your hair, your hand, anything to keep you focused on him instead of the movie and he inhales deeply whenever you mumble an “I love you,” only meant for you to hear and not having the heart to wake you up if you fall asleep

Seungkwan: A Walk to Remember; if there’s something he always wanted to with you, it was fulfill everything you have on your bucket list. At first, he used to put it off because there’d always be another time, but he watches it as a reminder that he won’t know if there’ll ever be a last time. He knew right off the bat he’d marry you and this set it in stone for him even though cries every time at the end. He likes hugging you from behind every time he remembers a scene or two

Hansol: Titanic; he skips the first few minutes and goes straight into the story, throwing his arm around you to keep you close the whole time. He’ll zone out at random times to brush the hair out of your face and smile gently. The intensity of his gaze is enough have you forget you’re even watching it to begin with, especially when he kisses you. Then he’ll pull away and refocus on the scene. He likes to pull you across his lap in an attempt to recreate the iconic scene and remembering that he won’t love you as much as he will in that moment: messy hair, comfy PJs and the feeling of being the luckiest guy in the world. “I’ll never let go,” he whispers in your ear before kissing your hand

Chan: Anastasia; a lowkey fan of history, he chose this one because of the story of how it all played out. You’ve always wondered why he liked it so much, what with the way you could hear him humming the songs into your hair and sighing at all the parts and when you asked why, he shrugged and said it reminded him of how you met and how you loved the person he is, rather than the person he portrays onstage and social media. “It’s not like you didn’t know who I was. It’s more like, you knew who I was but you still saw Chan and not Dino, and that’s really important to me.” He likes holding you close to him because it’s a bigger deal than he lets on

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daydreams-afterdark · 6 years ago

Text

Memories: A Moment in Winter

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Fluffy Travel Romance

Warnings: No smut this time ladies and gents, just fluff.

Word Count:1,206

Before you read: HAPPY HOLIDAYS LADS AND LASSES! Originally I was going to post these all together, but decided against it when the word count went over 300. I wanted to write very short stories that read like a favorite moment with the boys as if you were thinking of them as a “memory” or a daydream. I will be posting the rest of the members soon! If you like what you read, please leave some feedback!

Description: Remember when you went to Prague with Taehyung?

Prague’s oldest town square was bustling with tourists from all over; moseying down the lanes in cheerful chatter around the town’s giant Christmas Tree, twinkling lights dripped like dew drops down its massive branches. The walkways through tented shops looped and twisted through the square, the scent of all the street food wafted in your direction as you made your way past the food booths.

You had spent nearly the entire day exploring in and around the square with Taehyung, your boyfriend, shopping and eating intermittently between chaste kisses and photo-ops. The weather forecast had claimed the day to be dull and gray, yet, as always with Tae, the clouds dispersed by early afternoon and the sun shone brightly, occasionally haloing his head in a golden ring of light against equally beautiful snow-capped buildings.

It had been three years since you two began dating, and your second vacation to Europe. It was an idea of yours and Jimin, during a particularly exciting dinner party, so it was only natural that Jimin followed you both along, with a friend so he wouldn’t feel like the third wheel and to give you both time alone when appropriate. Today was that day to spend alone together, however, agreed to meet up for dinner later.

It was nearly seven-thirty when you and Tae were on your way to meet Jimin at the memorial statue in the center of the square. As you drew nearer, Tae’s hand clutched in yours and dancing through the crowd, you heard his name being shouted from behind him. You found Jimin waving his arms madly while jumping cutely up and down to catch his attention, which it did, making Tae stop abruptly and begin to mimic him. That sent you into a fit of laughter, which made you whip your phone out to capture the moment for posterity.

Jimin and his friend, as you noted walking toward you holding hands, greeted you both before heading to dinner. The cold night turned warm under amber lights and hot food. A piano played softly in the background as you dined; laughing over embarrassing stories, the boys ribbed each other about. You couldn’t help but become overwhelmed with joy that bloomed from the pit of your stomach and shot up to your heart. It was as if you already remembered this moment as a brilliantly shining memory, standing on the other side of the restaurant window looking in fondly at the scene in front of you.

It played out like a movie; finishing the last bit of wine before donning your coats to trek back out into the cold night of the city, fat snowflakes assaulted your faces as you walk toward your rented apartment. The crowds had died down a bit as the snow picked up and the shops began to close. The walk wasn’t very long, though just enough to make you wish you had taken a taxi home. Just as you all turned onto your street, Jimin chimed in with a story he had heard earlier that day.

“We had been exploring around town and came across a small crowd of tourists standing around an older woman. She was finishing a joke that made everyone laugh, that we decided to join in on the fun for a bit and see what the fuss was about. A younger American woman asked the lady to tell her fortune, which I thought was odd, she didn’t seem to be a fortune teller. The woman giggled and asked what she wanted to know so bad. The girl replied that she wanted to know when she was going to get married, she had been waiting for her boyfriend to propose to her. The woman nodded and told her, when the woman got home, to turn her back to her front door, take off her shoe and throw it over her shoulder. If the toe of the shoe pointed towards the door, the girl would be assured to be married within the year, if the toe pointed away, she would have to wait another year.”

“What happened next, hyung?” Tae asked, genuinely interested.

“The girl said she would.”

“I wonder if she will get married.” You wonder wistfully.

“You think, that superstition is true. Y/N?” Tae poked your cheek. You scrunch your nose at him and reply, no, you didn’t believe in superstitions. “You never know, Y/N. It could be real!”

“Well if you think it’s real, why don’t you try it out!” Jimin cut in, laughing.

“Shouldn’t, Y/N do it? Is the superstition only for girls?” Tae asked.

“I wouldn’t imagine it matters nowadays. Plus, wouldn’t you be able to debunk it anyway?” You stop in front of the door to your apartment.

“I guess.” Tae breathed out, not really wanting to take his shoe off in the middle of winter. He turned around and wiggled out of his boot, briefly asked Jimin which shoulder he should throw it over, and got snippy when Jimin had said he couldn’t remember if the side mattered.

The banter reminded you of that dinner party. You and Jimin had been dying over Tae and Yoongi’s arguments over Yeontan’s behavior while chasing him around the living room. Yeontan had gotten ahold of yet another beanie from Yoongi and was using it as a chew toy.

“Not another one! Taehyung, control him!” Shouted Yoongi.

“I’m sorry, hyung, I’ll pay to have it cleaned!”

“There’s no use now, oh God, oh look at this! He’s doing a death roll like crocodiles do! It’s all over!” Yoongi cried dramatically, as Tae tried desperately to pry the precious beanie out from between Yeontan’s teeth.

You and Jimin, both slightly inebriated, slipped off the couch and onto the floor, in tears of laughter.

“This is the funniest thing I have ever seen!” You cry into Jimin’s shoulder.

“Stick around with us, and you’ll see funnier!” Jimin wiped tears off his cheeks.

“You know what would be the funniest thing of all?” You quip. “If I proposed to Taehyung!”

“That would be the best thing ever, you should do it!” Jimin pointed at you excitedly.

“I should!” Looking at a sorrowful Taehyung who was holding a soggy beanie in his hands.

Taehyung tossed the shoe behind him and waited until he heard it land.

“How did it land?” Tae turned to Jimin to ask.

“I can’t see that far away!” Jimin shouted at him. “Take my hand, I’ll lead you there.” You watched Tae throw an arm around Jimin and hop toward the front door. Taehyung leaned over and picked the show up.

“Y/N, how badly do you want to know where the toe of my shoe landed,” Taehyung called to you, impishly.

“I think I already know the answer, so it doesn't matter.” You reply nonchalantly. Offended Taehyung whipped around to asked why, to find you on one knee, a ring box opened in your extended palm. “That is, I hope I know the answer.” A silly smile splayed across your face, your eyes watering in spite of you.

Taehyung dropped his boot at the same time as he fell to his knees, closed the ring box, and pulled you into a tight embrace.

“Yes.”

#bts v #taehyung #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic #v fanfic #v fic #fluff fic #bts christmas #btswinter #bts winter #soft hours #feels #bts fanfction #taehyung fanfiction #v fanfiction

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chasholidays · 7 years ago

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'All the stories you read as kids are true' Bellarke once upon a time.

The problem is this: Bellamy Blake does not belong in this story.

Of course, he must belong in some story. There is no being which does not have a story. But he does not belong in Alie’s story, and he’s going to make everything complicated. She had such a neat narrative, every story ending in a tidy bow, every major character accounted for. It was perfect.

And now, it’s going to be difficult.

She started as so many storytellers do, the first time she tried it: once upon a time, there was a peaceful kingdom, ruled by a just king and a beautiful queen.

These days, of course, the narratives are more complicated. The simple stories aren’t as popular anymore. The queen can’t be notable primarily for her beauty, and the king needs ambiguity, moral complexity. Diversity is important. The story can start off slow, but there must be twists and turns. There must be suffering. Happy endings are to be earned, not given by virtue of birth and status.

Good writers evolve.

So the queen dies, and the king is plunged into grief, and when his son dies, the line of succession is broken, and one of his advisers steps up to take his place. She spars with another adviser until the arguments become too heated and disagreement turns to passion, as sometimes happens. Love blooms where things were once barren, happiness grows out of sadness.

This is not, of course, exactly how it goes every time. But the broad strokes remain the same, no matter where the characters are, whether the princess is locked in a tower of stone or grief. The story should still work.

The story is going to work.

Bellamy Blake is an unfortunate side effect of an impulsive experiment.

The experiment was with the woodcutter, whose narrative value has decreased as technology progresses. It’s not a career anymore, woodcutting, and Alie has had to struggle to make him fit in. He works as an artisan now, a craftsman, and selling his creations online, he met Aurora Blake, a woman named after one of Alie’s first stories. That had pleased her, which was why she allowed it to happen at all. The woodcutter had no romantic entanglements, a quiet man who kept to himself, and a dalliance with the outside world seemed safe, for him. A good way to find out how expanding the parameters of the story might affect it.

She didn’t know about Aurora Blake’s son, and she didn’t know that the single night would result in a second child, a daughter. When the woodcutter found out, he did all the proper things, offering to marry Aurora and paying child support when she declined his suit. Alie was aware of Octavia Blake as someone of the story and not, a strange, dangling thread.

If all Bellamy Blake did was bring his sister back to her, Alie wouldn’t mind him. That’s a public service. But he stays, and that’s a problem. He’s not supposed to live here.

He��s not supposed to get involved.

She’s there, the first time Bellamy Blake meets Clarke Griffin. She doesn’t always witness things; sometimes, she has to read them in the book later, but it’s the weekly farmer’s market, and everyone in town comes to those. She wouldn’t miss it for the world.

In her previous stories, she’d put the princess with the prince, the natural pairing, and it had been fine, but lacked some punch, so she’s trying something new. Next time, she thinks she’d like to not kill the prince–it was a little too much death, this time around–but she doesn’t think they’ll be together again. The prince and the princess is just such a cliche.

So is killing off a character of color, come to that. She’ll do better by Wells next time.

But Clarke’s storyline has been going well. She’s been exploring her sexuality, finding her preference is for women and not men, and it’s progressing exactly as planned. She’s completed her relationship with Niylah and is well on her way to updating her label to lesbian. This market is supposed to be the next step, the beginning of her happily ever after. She and Lexa will meet and commence a long, complicated flirtation,ending with love. It’s going to be good.

Instead, Clarke bumps into Bellamy Blake.

Alie saw Bellamy come in with his sister and didn’t think anything of it. But Octavia went off with some of the other teenagers, and Bellamy was left to his own devices, wandering without much focus,

Until he bumps into Clarke.

It shouldn’t be anything. It should be a minor hiccup, but Bellamy catches her arm and Clarke looks up to see him, and Alie feels the shudder as the story begins to rewrite itself.

“Sorry,” says Bellamy. “I’m kind of lost.”

Clarke’s mouth twitches. “Lost?”

“Maybe not lost, just overwhelmed. The town’s so small, I thought the farmer’s market was going to be a block or two at most, probably just a parking lot. But this is–wow.”

“Good wow?”

“I’m impressed, yeah. You’ve got some amazing stuff here. I knew O’s dad was a craftsman, but I didn’t know he came from a whole town of artists.”

“I guess it’s one of those things, yeah,” says Clarke. “We’ve always been a kind of traditional place.”

“I noticed. It was like walking back in time. I wasn’t even sure you guys would have wifi.”

“We’re old-fashioned, not stupid.” She offers her hand. “I’m Clarke Griffin.”

He shakes. “Bellamy Blake.”

“Trust me, I know. We don’t get a lot of new blood around here.”

“Wow, that was a creepy way to say that. Definitely not worrying you guys are a weird cult who want my organs now.”

“Like you weren’t already worried about that.”

“Not that specifically. I was still coming up with possibilities. You have to admit the place is creepy,” he says, giving her a look. “Just a little.”

“Creepy? Seriously?”

“Nowhere is this nice and friendly. I walked into the diner and had a job by the end of my first day, and it’s actually enough to pay for me and O’s place.”

“O is your sister? Mr. Harris’s daughter? She’s staying with you.”

“Yeah. Our mom died a few months ago and she’s not eighteen yet, so–” He shrugs one shoulder. “I couldn’t get custody without her dad’s approval and I couldn’t afford our place in the city, so I figured–fresh start, right?”

“And now it’s going too well and you’re suspicious.”

“Trust no one.”

They’ve walked past Lexa’s booth by now, and she’s engrossed in a conversation with Gaia. She and Clarke didn’t even look at each other, which is not how the story is supposed to go.

Clarke laughs, and Bellamy smiles at her, and Alie narrows her eyes, jaw tightening.

She hasn’t had a challenge in a while. Maybe it will be novel.

The best stories tell themselves. The author creates situations, but she allows her characters to react on their own as much as they can. Alie has her setting, Lucis, and her cast of archetypal characters, and her magic, but every story she tells is different. Every story is shaped by the individual characters, by their choices and interests, and every author, Alie is sure, has experienced the frustration of a character not reacting how they were supposed to, how they were expected to.

This is on a level she’s never experienced, though.

She knows things about Bellamy. He’s twenty-five, eight years older than his sister, and he’s felt as if it was his responsibility to care for her almost since she was born. There’s nothing wrong with him, exactly, but he is not hers, she does not control him, he does not belong in her story. He’s not the one the princess is supposed to want to be with.

But she does. Every time Alie turns her attention away from Clarke’s story, checking on the romance between Nathan, the miller-turned-programmer, and Monty, one of the farmers, or the progression of the political and personal conflicts between Clarke’s mother and her new husband, Clarke will have gone into the diner to flirt with Bellamy.

And Bellamy, outside of her control, keeps barging in on scenes that Alie never even thought he’d be in, and as soon as he’s there, he takes all of Clarke’s attention.

And despite her best efforts, she can’t get rid of him. Charles Pike won’t fire him, because he’s a good worker. Indra Birch won’t evict him, because he’s a good tenant. Calvin Harris likes having him and his sister around. Everyone seems to think he’s a good addition to the community, to the story, and that means Alie’s hands are tied.

She does what she can, of course. Gina Martin is a nice girl, unattached, slated for a tragic premature death. Alie gives her reasons to cross Bellamy’s path, trying to distract him. After all, just because Clarke is interested in him doesn’t mean he’s interested in Clarke, and Alie isn’t privy to his thoughts.

In the end, all she accomplishes is getting Gina and Raven Reyes in the same place, and instead of Raven falling for Kyle Wick, as she was meant to, she and Gina begin a courtship.

Things are unraveling at a truly unprecedented rate. One foreign element and suddenly nothing is going according to plan.

“I didn’t think Raven and Gina liked women,” Clarke tells Bellamy, after the two of them discover Raven and Gina on a date. “I thought I did,” she adds, under her breath.

“Who says you don’t?” Bellamy asks.

Clarke bites her lip. Alie’s been watching her more and more, being where she’ll be more than usual, and it’s been odd, witnessing her changing. None of her creations have ever evolved so independently of her. Not really.

“I thought I did, but–I like men too.”

“Me too,” says Bellamy, with a shrug. “I like men and women. Plenty of people do.”

“They do?” Clarke asks, and Alie mouths the words along with her. That’s something to think about; it hadn’t occurred to her. She’d thought everyone was just one way or the other. Binaries tend to appeal to her.

But the narrative would be better served by more choices.

“Jesus, I know bi-erasure is bad, but I can’t believe you guys didn’t even know it was a thing.” He nudges his shoulder against hers, doesn’t move away after. “Get your phone out, google bisexuality.”

They lean over Clarke’s phone together, heads bent close, and Alie finishes her drink.

At least she learned something.

She thinks about killing him, of course. It would be easiest. Another tragedy for Clarke to face and overcome, and it would sever Octavia’s ties to the outside world, letting her integrate fully into the narrative. It would be so much easier, and it would get the story back on track. An elegant solution.

Her mind is most of the way made up when she’s reading the book one night and finds that Clarke confessed to Raven–I think I’m in love with him–and the words are there, in black and white, somehow unexpected, in spite of everything.

Love. Clarke thinks she loves him.

It is possible to recover from a lost love. Alie has seen it; second chances can be a beautiful thing. But Clarke’s already lost plenty of people in her life, her father and her closest friend, and she’s overcome it. She’s bright and thriving and happy, and she’s in love with a boy who–

Well, that’s the other thing. Alie doesn’t know. For the first time, she can’t be sure how this story will go. She thinks Bellamy loves Clarke too, that they’ll be together, but she doesn’t know.

How wonderful, to not know what’s going to happen.

She can’t wait to find out.

#la-la-lara

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