#not even the rain i mean the actual lightening and stuff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wizkiddx · 3 years ago

Note

hiii!!! omg please please pleasee do a part two of 3 hearts broken cus it fucking slaps miss girl

part 2 to 3 broken hearts!!! ive been so �� at all the lovely comments+interest pt 1 had so thanku all !

summary: serious serious angst again will tom somehow get it back (unlike looking cos boy is a fool)

warnings: again lots of swearing (im British sorry not sorry) / wayyyy too much tea / slating Dom abit (obvs fictional but idk if I like the guy sorry his opinions are :/) / commitment issues

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

read part 1 here!!!!

That was three days ago now. Three days since you'd spoken to your boyfrien- well, Tom. It wasn't evident what the situation was.

The typical British weather brought with it the most ironic pathetic fallacy you could ever see. The clouds were dark and glooming, firing angry pellets of rain out as hard as they could. When you had pulled up on the roadside, it had just been a light drizzle but synchronised with your anxiety levels rising - so did the rain. When you finally opened up the car door, you threw your hoodie open with a sigh before running up the pathway to the front door.

It was the same burgundy red that you knew so well, but this time instead of just letting yourself in - you stood in the rain used the brass knocker thing twice. To be honest, you were hoping that no one was home - but in that house, it was pretty unlikely. After 30 seconds of getting drenched in the downpour, you were about to let yourself in with the spare key before the door swung open.

"Oh! Er Y/n?"

"Yeh um hi." You had to shout a bit over the sound of what must now be classified as a storm.

"Toms not-"

"I know. Can I come in?" As awkward and stunted as this conversation was, if you didn't get out of the rain asap you would literally end up drowned.

“Oh er yeh-yeh yeh come in.”

Harry stammered as he held the door open, gesturing for you to enter into the tiled hallway. Gratefully, you followed, throwing your sopping wet hood back down and wiping your feet on the floor.

"Sorry for just showing up, but I left some scripts here. My management are on my arse to read them and-"

"And you waited till Tom left for mum and dads?" The fluffy-haired boy has caught you red-handed; there was no defence, so you didn't even try.

Because yes, you knew on a Friday afternoon when Tom was home he would always, like clockwork, go to his parents just to kick back and watch gogglebox with both of them. It was only natural then that you chose Friday afternoon to come and pick up your stuff.

"I've been waiting in my car for half an hour till I saw him leave." Harry half laughed at that, still the two of you standing opposite each other in the hallway. "Um, do you… do you hate me Harry?"

Clearly, he hadn't quite been expecting your question going by the way his eyes almost bugged out his head.

"No, I-I, of course, I don't… look, I'm home alone so you fancy a cuppa?" Not being able to help the small chuckle, you nodded appreciatively, following Harry through the house.

"Your answer to everything is tea."

Harry had prepared the two mugs in silence as you sat at the table waiting patiently - if nervously too. You didn't miss how Harry had still used your favourite mug, having had to dig through the cupboard to find the weird square-shaped thing. Once done, he rounded the kitchen island and placed it in front of you, which you instantly cradled in two hands - for the hope of warming you up.

"You cold?" Obviously, it was pretty evident that sitting in your rain-soaked hoodie was not cosy at all. "Hang on a sec."

The boy sprung up again, returning moments later with a hoodie in hand, one he offered out to you with a little smile. The issue was that him and Tom shared clothes, so the hoodie he was kindly offering to you also had been worn by Tom before. Which made it hurt a little bit to wear. It was better than sitting soaked through though.

"How have you been then?"

"Not the best, to be honest, but uh… how about you?"

"Being with Tom while he's fighting with you? Oh, it's a barrel of laughs. You might've escaped it, but I haven't." He was trying to lighten the mood, and you appreciated it, offering him a half-smile that didn't really meet your eyes.

"Yeh sorry about that."

"Don't apologise; it doesn't sound like it's your fault Y/n."

That surprised you. Tom, especially when he was in moods like he was when you argued, wasn't one to admit when he was wrong. It was usually how the world was against him and how he was so hard done by. Accepting responsibility was something he hadn't said to you yet - but at least, small steps.

"He say that?"

"Pretty much… doesn't seem like he's angry at you, but-but he's still angry."

"At the world?" You rolled your eyes; this seemed to be the same old Tom through and through. Still immature. Still not with the right mindset.

"At himself." Harry countered, slightly entertained, when he saw the flash of surprise in your face as he sipped his drink. "And me… if I dare to so much as breathe this week."

This time you properly laughed, and Harry joined in too before the room fell back to silence - except the noise of the rain hitting the garden patio slats. You swirled the tea round in your mug, feeling the brunette's eyes on you. He'd always been your fake little brother too, since you'd met the Hollands way back 3 and a half years ago. Tom and yourself were barely adults, which meant the twins were still proper children. Harry had always been the one that understood you. Hollands, by nature, loved humans - loved to talk, to chat, to gossip. But sometimes, doing all that socialising got too much for you, as it did for Harry. He was the only one that seemed to understand social exhaustion. So when those moments had hit, you'd kept each other company in silence.

He got you, sometimes in ways your own boyfriend didn't.

"You know why he got so worked up, right?" You shook your head, looking up curiously. "Dad got under his skin on his birthday zoom thing."

Ah, now that did seem to coincide with the start of Tom's more petulant phase. To be fair, Tom had been asking to move in together for near enough a year now - but it was only in the past month it seemed to be the only thing you'd talk about and obviously only three days since the flight back. Dom's birthday barely a week ago, whilst you and Tom were both filming - except Tom had managed to get a day off where you hadn't. So you hadn't heard this conversation.

"What'd he say?"

"Was talking about how he and mum were settling down at Toms age, joked about how you rejected him, said maybe you were holding out for something better."

"Something better?" Harry sighed, leaning forward onto his elbows.

"He'd seen an article just off a trashy tabloid… it named you Hollywood's golden girl or something, said you could have the pick of any person on the planet…"

Of all the people in the world, why is Tom affected by shit journalism? He knows how much bullshit people write. He knows how it's all made up, exaggerated nonsense. And what he should know, completely and totally, is how much you love him. And if he didn't, was that your fault? Had you done something wrong, something to make him doubt you?

Harry seemed to notice the internal dialogue going on in your head, adding to the point. "It wasn't the article though, it was the fact dad said it."

Hmmm.

You and Dom got on; it wasn't like you hated the possible future father in law or whatever. Just…. you had very different outlooks. As much as Tom prided himself on how' grounded his family keeps him' -to you at least, they aren't entirely at sea level either. They'd never really had any particular struggles in life. They were the definition of middle class, and that's about it. They lived in a posh suburb of London, had all their family still around. It was the perfect family.

And whilst you were in no illusions about how privileged your life was now. It hadn't always been. You'd never had the 'nuclear' family. Instead, only your dad and a string of dodgy and fleeting stepmothers while struggling to make ends meet. So you were just always wary of Dom, of his opinions that so often his boys took for gospel. They always seemed pretty sheltered and close-minded.

And yet, Tom was a grown man.

"I get that, I just… Tom should know that we know more about our relationship than his dad. I mean,… have I done something wrong? Made him think I'm not in this for the long haul?"

"No nonono Y/n he's just… well he's an idiot, isn't he? I don't think he properly understands why you're cautious about moving and everything. He's just an idio- "

Harry was cut off for lightly insulting his brother by the sound of the front door opening, both of your heads swivelling towards the source. You then met Harry's eyes in a panic, to which he replied relatively simply.

"Just talk to each other. For my sake." You would've argued if it weren't for the fact you were so focused on Tom's shuffling around in the entrance hallway - back early from his parents.

"Baz? Where you at? I thought I saw Y/n's car and-"

"Kitchen!!!" Before Tom could say anything else, possibly landing himself in more trouble, Harry interrupted as his chair screeched while standing up. And then Tom was just there. Standing in the doorway, his arms dropping limply to his side as he noticed you. Everything about that moment seemed to freeze, when you locked eyes with him for the first time in three days. It didn't go unnoticed, the way his Adams apple bobbed, the way his eyes widen. The boy looked plain and simply terrified.

It was Harry who broke the silence, after giving you a stern look that said 'stay'. The younger Holland boy walked up to Tom and spoke.

"Try actually talking and actually listening about your problems with each other." And then he was gone, down the hallway and up the stairs.

For a few moments, Tom stayed absolutely stationary, now staring at where Harry had been when speaking to the both of you (but mainly Tom). Long enough to put your sense of unease at an all-time high, ready to make a break for it.

"If you don't want to talk, then I can leav-"

"NO!" Apparently snapping out of it, Tom exclaimed loud enough to make you flinch from your seat. "Sorry! I-I just… I wasn't expecting to… you know, to see you."

"Yeh I just uh- just came to pick up some scripts… Harry cornered me with a tea, though; otherwise, I'd be…."

"Baz thinks the whole world could be fixed with tea."

"that's what I said!" You instinctively responded, forgetting the fact you're supposed to be mad at him, and just for a second falling back into your normal flow.

Tom didn't even try to hide his grin in response, until you quickly corrected your face- then he did too. Turning around to put the kettle on for himself. Because right now, he needed to fix his whole world, and he needed all the help he could get. For a period, the only noise was the sound of the kettle boiling, then the teaspoon clinking against the mug as he stirred - until he padded over, taking the seat across from you.

"So."

"It's been a while," Tom stated the bloody obvious.

"You never called."

"Didn't think you'd want me to."

You thought that the early signs weren't all that auspicious. His ability to read a situation once again failing.

"I wanted you to say something."

"Say what?"

"What do you think Tom?" He replied to the sarcastic tone by sucking in a sharp breath, holding it for a second, before slowly exhaling. As if trying to compose himself, take time to think of a response - a mature move for him.

"Well, I think you want me to say sorry? For being so moody and not waiting for you and for upsetting those kids. And thanks too, for covering for me?"

You just hummed. Waiting for him to continue. Because yes, you did deserve all those things. But you also deserved more. An apology for, oh I don't know, saying he didn't think you loved him? It was a wait that never ended, he had nothing more to add.

"Going by your face, I take it I missed something?"

The bloody cheek of it.

"Theres nothing else? Nothing else at all? …" You gave him that chance, the opportunity but all he could respond with was a shake of his head. "You thought I was fine about you saying that I don't love you?" You hadn't intended on raising your voice, but really you hadn't realised you did till after the fact. To blinded by rage at his ignorance.

"You want to talk about this now?"

"When else Tom?" You sighed, realising he perhaps wasn't ready for this conversation. Maybe he needed more time to think things through, have sense talked into him by various wiser family members. Or maybe, he never would be. That was the worst-case scenario. But also… you're most likely prediction.

He shuffled in his seat, clearing his voice but not saying anything. Not a peep.

"I have spent three years of my life with you. I've had countless nights of too little sleep because that was the only time you could facetime. I've exposed my relationship to the world and people's opinions because you didn't want to hide. All I've done is love you. How could you even say that?" There might've been tears in your eyes, yet you were determined to keep them at bay. You needed to have this out, one way or another, to be clear and cohesive and logical. No time to cry.

"Y/n I know that, I…" He sighed, instinctively reaching for your hand, but you were quicker to pull it away. There was hurt in his eyes, but so there should be. "It just sometimes feels like that's it for you. That yeh you love me but you just want to standstill. That this is as much as it'll ever be."

Your emotions were suddenly uncontainable. Your voice croaked as you whispered, "Have I done something wrong?"

"No love, nonono if that's how you feel then that's okay. But it's something I'm not… shit this is hard." He took a pause to take a sip of his drink, your glazed eyes never leaving his. "I don't think I can stand still anymore. And yeh I was pissy and childish the other day because my dad got under my skin about the whole moving in thing… But these past few days, it just has got me thinking. Because I love you, so much."

This time when he reached out to grab your hand, you actually leaned into it yourself. Not because you were giving in, but because this hurt. This hurt so fucking much that you needed something to ground you, or else god knows. Because the way he was speaking, it sounded so finite.

"I love you too."

"I do know, which is…is why this is so hard." At the very least, Tom had conceded that.

The conversation ceased to silence yet again. The room felt so cold; even Tom/Harry's hoodie was doing nothing to keep you from the endless empty cold that seemed to be coming from within.

"When I re-registered my health card last month, and I made you my emergency contact on it. I-I made you my next of kin on everything actually. I didn't think about it twice. And-and this-"You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, immediately pulling up the app onto the open page. "This is my Pinterest board for our baby's nursery theme. I know-" You paused, to quickly wipe your cheeks clear of the tear tracks that may or may not have been there. "I know it's probably a long way away, but I just love the Scandinavian theme." You laughed at yourself, suddenly embarrassed at your blabbering and quickly pulled up a different app. "And this… this was from the other week when I was helping Y/bf/n start her vows." Hands trembling as you turned the phone around for Tom to see again. "She was finding it really tricky so she said, what would you say to Tom on your wedding, so-so I made this list." You only dared to look at him when you were sure he'd be reading through that note.

It was bizarre because he looked… well, he looked happy. Here you were feeling traumatised, showing things that you'd barely even deeped how committed they were - and he was pleased? Feeling the fire burn once again inside of your chest, you quickly swiped the phone away and back into your pocket. Only then did he look up, eyes widening - presumably at quite how psychotic you looked.

"So don't you dare say that I don't want a future with you."

You said it with such force, there was a pause. Tom letting those words sink deep into his brain. The way his expression flickered minutely gave you hope. You thought he got it. You thought he really understood now.

"But why don't you want to move in then?"

There it was again. He knew why. But he didn't get it. And, probably, he never would.

You were about to crash completely. So you ran. As fast as your legs could carry you, not even aware of your chair crashing to the floor in your wake. You ran out of that house and away from him. Away from who you had thought was the love of your life.

?give tom a final chance w one last part?

feedback is always v v appreciated <3

tom taglist : @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08

people i think might be interestd in this (sorry if not just let me know and i'll remove the tag!!!): @obiwanownsmyass @wildxwidow @parkersvogue @coffeewithoutcaffeine @tomhollandlol @thefallenbibliophilequote @clumsymandu @hiraethenthusiast @mannien @abrielleholland @evermorehabit @niallberry @greatpizzascissorstaco @runawayolives @annathesillyfriend @letsgotothemoonlight @lovelybarnes

#tom x reader #tom holland fic #tomholland #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #famous!reader #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x actress!reader #harry holland

737 notes · View notes

i-willstealyourtoes · 2 years ago

Text

(BBC Ghosts) (Alive)Thomas x Reader who's his best friend

@five-salty-bitters this is for u, I'm sorry I took so long, I literally had a mental health moment and then a physical health moment 💀

- EVERYONE, and I literally mean EVERYONE knew about Thomas and you

- And by that I mean that everyone but you two knew how much you liked... no LOVED each other

- You know the whole 'What???? no we aren't dating 😳' while y'all HOLD HANDS AND STUFF SVUSBS

- Okay okay, moving on, you two literally are like the high school sweethearts

- People wish they had a 'friendship' like yours

- Bc it's just PERFECT

- Y'all rlly be out here, holding hands and picking flowers in a field

- Picnic dates hangouts every week

- Usually it's just you two running and frolicking in the daisy fields, until you run out of energy and collapse into the fields together

- Also you two sit on a picnic rug or something like that and eat sandwiches

- Omg y'all be out here eating the cute strawberry + cream sandwiches UGH 💜💜💜

- You know how much our (communism) boy loves poems, so he likes to write them with you

- He actually gets inspo from you for his love poems 😳😏

- If u like to write poems, HE LITERALLY IS SO HAPPY OMG 🎉

- Okay okay moving on

- So one day, you and Thomas were hanging out at your usual picnic spot when it starts raining 😭

- 'Oh, I suppose we shall move this inside then?'

- 'Yes, that sounds like a good idea-!'

- You grab his hand as he lifts you up from the spot (omg holding hands 😳)

- As he picks up the picnic blanket, a paper falls from it

- 'Oh? Something fell, I'll get it!'

- You pick it up and read it bc plot

- 'I adore her eyes more than the pen loves the paper, her smile more than the sea loves the coast. She is my everything.' (sorry if it's bad I don't do poems lmao)

- As you two are walking, you decide to bring it up to break the silence

- 'Thomas?'

- 'Yes, what is it?'

- 'Do you.... like someone?'

- Thomas pauses in his step

- He knows exactly what you mean, but chooses to play oblivious

- 'Why of course, I like a great many people, like you, my cousin, my-'

- 'Don't play dumb Thomas. Who is it?'

- Thomas doesn't answer and all that can be heard is the rain

- 'I'm simply curious, Thomas. It's not as if I will shoot you or anything if you tell me-!'

- You tried to joke around, to lighten the atmosphere, to no avail

- 'What made you think I have any sort of feelings like that to anyone?'

- 'Your poem, the one that dropped on the ground. I read it. You clearly like someone! You're confusing me.... who is it? Please tell me...!'

- You were getting a little concerned now. At first, you were jealous, but now...

- 'L-Let us discuss this later shall we? We should get inside before we're completely soaked-!'

- 'Thomas, we're already soaked. Can't you just tell me? We're friends, aren't we?'

- See, that's the problem, Thomas feared that you were friends. Just friends.

- 'Of.... of course! It's just...'

- You weren't going to force it out of him, but he usually told you all his crushes immediately after getting them so...

- 'Who is it?'

- He didn't answer. You decided not to push on it any further and kept walking, eventually passing him by

- 'Come on then, let's just go. If you don't want to be pressed on the subject any further.'

- Just as you got about a metre away, he shouted at you

- 'It's you!'

- At first, you didn't believe it.

- You turned back around to face him.

- Surely it was just the distance and the rain that distorted his voice?

- 'What..?'

- 'IT'S YOU!'

- You were having a hard time believing this.

- 'Of course it's you..... it always was, even when I wasn't aware of it...'

- Now it was your turn to have no response..

- 'Now, I understand if you don't wish to be friends anymore, let alone lovers.... I apologise for making you uncomfortable.'

- You've never really seen him like this. He was soaked, looking at the ground with a defeated look on his face.

- 'Thomas....'

- You walked towards him, and pulled him tightly into a hug.

- Sure, a kiss is more romantic, but it might be a bit awkward since it's your first kiss together

- A tight hug is all he needed tbh

- 'Of course I like you back.... I can't believe you thought otherwise.'

- As soon as he heard this, he hugged back

- Uh idk how to add on this tbh

- I hope this was sufficient if you need more I have no issue trying to add lol /gen

16 notes · View notes

cherryatiny · 3 years ago

Text

𝐃𝐚𝐝! 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 '𝐝𝐚𝐝'

𝐺𝐼𝐹𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑠

⩥ 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠

„See princess? And this is how you trim audio when working on a song.“ responded Hongjoong excitedly, from how interested his daughter was in the matter of creating and producing music, just like her dad.

The little girl squealed on his lap happily, as she just edited her first song. „Wow, daddy's work is so cool! I'm gonna be like daddy when I grow up!“ He couldn't help but smile at how his cute daughter was an exact copy of him when it came to her looks, interests or even personality.

„Okay princess, can you be a good girl and be quiet for a while? Daddy just has to finish this one song, I promise it'll take just a few minutes.“ his daughter nodded, always obeying the words of her dad.

Sitting there quietly, she looked at the screen of his computer, the small pink headphones Hongjoong bought for her on times like these when they listened and worked on music together, on her head, as she listened to the song that featured her dad and his seven friends.

The girl suddenly jumped up on his lap, his hands swiftly catching her, not wanting to imagine the piercing cry of pain she'd let out if she fell. „What are you doing, princess? You have to be careful baby, or else you'll fall. Why did you even jump?“

„I heard dad singing in the chorus!“ exclaimed his daughter. „But daddy wasn't singing in the chorus, princess.“ frowned Hongjoong confusedly, not knowing what his daughter meant. „I know. I was talking about dad Seonghwa.“ his daughter not being able to distinguish between the voices would be completely okay, after all, she's just a toddler, but his daughter calling his friend Seonghwa dad intentionally, was not that okay for him.

„But Seonghwa isn't your dad. I'm your dad.“ Weird jealousy-like feeling flowed through his veins at that moment. „I know that you're my dad, but mommy said uncle Seonghwa is my dad too!“

„No my little dummy, you missed it, uncle Seonghwa is your godfather, not your dad, him being your godfather doesn't make him your dad, princess.“ explained Hongjoong as he smiled at his little girl, embracing her in a tight but careful hug full of love since she's tiny and fragile.

⩥ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚

Heating the zucchini sauce, that his friend Hongjoong taught him how to cook, before pouring it on the pasta, Seonghwa served his twin daughters the meal they love so much. „Okay.. enjoy your meal, my loves, what do you say?“ waiting for their answer, the girls thanked him loud, cheerfully. „Thank you, daddy!“

Seonghwa smiled proudly at how well you two raised them. „That's it, smart girls, after your parents! And don't forget to eat everything! You have to eat, so you can be strong and healthy girls!“

No answer was given to him, as the two girls munched on their lunch, stuffing their mouths with pasta. In the meanwhile, Seonghwa washed the dishes he made dirty by cooking, before taking one serving of the pasta to eat as well.

Sitting down on the chair opposite of his daughter, he dug his fork into the meal, watching his daughters. „How is it? Do you like it?“ The younger twin tried to answer, but her words were muffled as her mouth was full.

„Princess, what did I say about talking while you're eating? Finish chewing first so you don't gag on the food and say it to me after that.“

„It was yummy but dad makes it better!“After finishing the last bits of their meals they place the empty plates one on another, the older twin, picking it up and placing it into the sink, she was hardly able to reach. „What are you talking about princess, daddy cooked it.“

„I didn't mean you, daddy, I meant dad Joong.“ Seonghwa felt his eyebrows frowning on their own at his daughter calling his best friend her dad. Yes, it was stupid to be jealous of something like this, but he just couldn't help it. „Why are you calling uncle Hongjoong your dad?“

„He's as old as you daddy, so I thought he could be my dad as well!“

⩥ 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨

Sitting his three kids into their child seats and fastening their seatbelts, Yunho got into his driver seat, carefully leaving the parking lot. Looking in the rear mirror, his two boys were playing together deep down in a conversation, while their little sister slept.

Nevertheless, he still drove quite slowly, because he knew the kids might throw up from the number of roller coasters they rode with Mingi's daughter today.

Coming home, his daughter was still sleeping and he didn't have the heart to wake her up from her peaceful state. Picking her up on his arms, her head laying on his shoulder, the two boys jumped out of the car, already running to the house to rant about their day to you.

Hearing their shouting from outside, you were already waiting for them in the hallway, the two boys jumping onto you, embracing you in a hug with their tiny arms. Smiling at your husband Yunho that was standing in the hallway.

„I missed you my loves! The house was empty without you. Did you have fun today at the amusement park?“

„Yes! Dad bought us ice cream!“ Yeah. You could see that since a chocolate stain adorned his light green t-shirt, smiling at your sons whose day was lightened up by the chocolate ice cream they loved that much.

„Yuyu, what did I tell you about buying the kids ice cream. It's full of sugar and chemicals, I could've made them one myself when you came home, and it won't stuff chemicals into their bodies.“

„But I didn't buy them ice cream, Y/N, Mingi did... Wait! Did you two just call uncle Mingi your dad? I'm actually hurt.“

Yunho cried and fell to the ground dramatically to show how much his boys calling his best friend their father hurt him. Only resulting in the boys laughter.

„[Mingi's daughter's name] said she's our little sister as well as [Yunho's daughter's name] and that you're one of her dads, so we thought that Mingi's our dad too!“

⩥ 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

„Mommy, mommy, can you please braid my hair?“ squeaked your daughter cutely as she ran towards you with a hairband in her small hands. Handing it over to you as you cooked a meal for lunch.

„Mommy is busy, come over here, daddy is so good at braiding hair.“ exalted your husband Yeosang himself as he motioned for his daughter to come to him.

Spreading his legs widely for his daughter to sit in between them in his lap as her back faced him.

Brushing her soft and silky hair into a ponytail, he took the hairband from her hand and started braiding her hair into a (really messy) braid.

The girl stood up, running over to the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. Stepping out onto her stairs so she can see herself, she saw the terrible creature that was supposed to adorn her head.

Unbraiding the messy hairstyle, she ran back to the room where you and Yeosang were. Ignoring Yeosang who looked at her confusedly as to why she damaged the braid he made, the little girl tugged at your t-shirt to gain your attention.

„Mommy, mommy, why are dads so bad at braiding hair?“ scoffed the girl as she pouted with playful anger at Yeosang.

„Do you have experiences with other dads that you can generalize it?“ asked Yeosang as he watched the two of you with wide eyes, to catch every detail. „Dad Jongho couldn't braid my hair as well.“

His daughter calling his best friend dad seemed to spark jealousy and some kind of anger in him. „And who told you to call uncle Jongho 'dad'?“

„And who told you that you're good at braiding hair as you claimed?“ scoffed the little girl at her dad as she hugged you closer to her, not letting you go as she was acting petty with her dad. „Damn, who is this kid so mean and sarcastic after...“

⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧

Looking out of the window on the immense garden their house had, San's two sons were playing soccer there. One as a goalkeeper and the second one trying to score a goal against his older brother.

The last night there was a big storm which caused the mud to be all over their garden. However, the boys didn't seem to care that they were covered in dirt head to toes.

Even though it was in the boys' nature to not care if they're dirty, he knew you'd be angry when you came home and saw all the dirty clothing and scraped knees. So he rather called them to come inside, the boys ran inside the spacious house.

„Boys, you know how angry mommy will be, what did we say about playing in the mud?“ Scolding them playfully the boys didn't like the restrictions you two made.

„But daddy Wooyoung lets us play outside even after rain when there's mud." The younger one whined, trying to persuade his father San to let them continues playing, instead getting a reaction out of his older brother.

„He's not your dad, Wooyoung is our uncle you dumbass.“ Not believing his ears, San kneeled down to be on the boys' eye level as he scolds them.

„Hey you, don't call your younger brother dumbass, where did you even learn that word? And you, don't call uncle wooyoung your dad, or I'll have to have a serious conversation with that dumbass.“ scoffed San at the two boys as he stood up, about to look for some clean clothes to clean this mess before you came home and scolded all three of them.

„Daddy? And if you can say dumbass, why can't I?“

⩥ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢

Coming home from work, all exhausted and your body sore, you placed your keys and bag on the table in the hallway, shouting some greetings to alert Mingi and your daughter that you're home.

Not getting any response, you stepped into the living room, being met with the image of your husband Mingi pouting and sitting on the ground with arms crossed over his chest as he frowned cutely at the little girl that sat opposite of him.

Your daughter doing exactly the same as if they were imitating each other. „What's wrong with you two, did something happen?“

Looking at them with confusion in your eyes, you sat on the ground with them, waiting for their clarification of whatever happened.

„[Mingi's daughter's name] called Yunho her dad. He's not her dad, I'm her dad! If I called any other kid my daughter she'd start crying too, so why can't I?“

Trying to hold back the laughter at Mingi's childish behaviour, you looked at your daughter, expecting her to say something. „Daddy don't be jealous, even though I have eight dads and you're one of them, you're the best one, and my most favourite one! I love you, daddy, so don't be mad at dad Yunho anymore.“

You could see Mingi's bottom lip quirking at her words and you knew that he wanted to cry from the heartwarming words your daughter said to him, nevertheless he couldn't lose his composure as he was playing offended with her for the past two hours.

„Okay princess, come here, to the best daddy you have, but don't you dare wish any of them on the father's day.“

⩥ 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

Sitting on the soft couch in your and Wooyoung's house's living room, you listened to the conversation between him and San as you watched your son of 10 months laying on the mat with clattering toys dangling above him, that was placed on the living room's floor.

His tiny figure trying to reach out for them, but failing. Seeing how his eyebrows started to shrug, the displeased expression on his face, Wooyoung could sense what was about to happen and he was definitely not in the mood to hear his son's piercing hysterical almost scream-like cries.

„Okay, okay, young man, come to daddy before you make us deaf with your crying.“

Picking him up, Wooyoung placed your son on his lap, the tiny boy laying there as he looked up at San's dimples, the man in question couldn't help but smile and giggle at how cute his best friend's son was.

Leaning towards him, he tickled the baby with his fingers, not failing to make your son a giggling mess. The boy in your husband's lap reached out to touch his dad's friend, his tiny fingers gripping on San's t-shirt.

„Da-da. Dada!“ Both your and Wooyoung's eyes widened at hearing your son talk for the first time, „Say that again, bun.“

Encouraged him Wooyoung, trying to make his son say 'dad' again, however, he wasn't the one his son meant.

Reaching towards San, your son somehow turned himself over onto his stomach and tried to get over to San. „Dada!“ screamed your son once again as he was trying to move himself to San's lap somehow.

„W-what? Baby no, that's not your dad! I'm your dad, that's uncle San, he's not your dad.“ Wooyoung tried to turn your son over, so he could look at his real father, but the boy only protested, letting out those cute 'dad' blabbers over and over, resulting in you laughing at how grumpy Wooyoung got because of this situation.

Well, saying that Wooyoung didn't invite San over for about a month was understandable.

⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨

Sitting on the ground of his room, while playing with cars that belonged to him, you listened to him rambling about everything - his day in the kindergarten, the toy cars, the cute puppy he saw, when suddenly he switched the topic of his chatter,

„Mommy, why doesn't daddy Yeosang have a boy, who'll play soccer with me?“ Not realising the way your son called your friend at first, you thought about a way to answer his question, when you actually discerned one of his words after a while,

„Look, baby, it's- wait, why did you call uncle Yeosang 'daddy'? He's not your daddy, as you've said he has his own child and you have your own daddy.“

„I know mommy, that he's not my real daddy, but he's [Yeosang's daughter's name]'s daddy, and when I'll be grown up, I'll marry her and he'll become my daddy too!“ explained your little son before returning to his previous task of playing with the cars that were all over his room's floor.

Not being aware of your husband Jongho that stood outside his room and eavesdropped your whole conversation, he exposed himself when he suddenly scoldingly whined from the hallway,

„Yah, aren't you way too young to have a wife, definitely not Yeosang's daughter, if that girl is at least as half the way as Yeosang is, she'll be able to kill you with her words alone. And her father is way too buff, it'd be stressful to have him as your father in law, what if he gets angry. Definitely not, he won't be your father in any way, young man.“

#ateez #dad!ateez #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez headcanons #ateez x reader

303 notes · View notes

glowinggator · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Valentines Day!

Request: Hey since tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, think we can have a Rottmnt special? Like crush made them homemade chocolate and shyly gives it to them? ✨✨ pretty please! 🙏

Pairing: All, Non-Poly. (Raphael, Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, & April O’Neil.)

Content Warnings: None! Except for swearing?? I don’t know if people still tag for swears or not </3

Word Count: 1658

You thank the universe that nobody could hear your heartbeat, for if they could, the world would surely fall apart at the intensity of its beats. Your face burns hot, and your body shakes with each step you take. You pray to every deity you can think of that you don’t drop the chocolate you stayed up all night making. Pan after pan and recipe after recipe lead you to this moment, finally finding the perfect concoction. That’s what you tell yourself, at least. No, it is perfect! Right? Fuck, what’s the backup plan if he doesn’t like it? Should you scrap it? Should you have brought some for everyone? You’re so lost in your thought, you hardly recognize your surroundings as you step into the lair. An enthusiastic “hey!” from your friends seals your fate: there’s no turning back now. No second-guessing.

You’re gonna give it to them.

Raphael:

He’s so excited!! Chocolate? For him? From his crush?

He actually has to ask if you’re serious first, he can’t help it. Like really? Ethereal you made him homemade chocolate? He has to be dreaming.

“Are you sure you’re not confusing me for someone else? Not that I’m saying I don’t want it! Wait hold on, this isn’t coming out right-”

Raph what other giant, anthropomorphic snapping turtles do we know???

He smiles so big when you manage to stammer out that yes, this is for him, and he cradles the package so gently too. He’s such a sweetheart.

He actually made you something too!

He puts the box down gently before going to his room to grab it.

It’s a small handmade card with a little bouquet of wildflowers! (White trillium and starflower to be exact. He thought they were really pretty.) The bouquet is tied loosely with a red ribbon, pulled gently into a bow.

He was so nervous about giving it to you, that he actually wasn’t planning to at all! He’s had everything planned for weeks, but his anxiety kept getting the better of him. But getting something from you was exactly the kind of encouragement he needed to take that final leap.

He’s so flustered when he hands it over, and the way his hands shake makes you feel a little less shy. Maybe he does feel the same way?

Two shy dorks in love <3

Leonardo:

Yoo, for real? For him? Hell yeah, thank you!

He’s really confident on the outside. Like, he’s so excited and accepting about it it’s unreal. All of your anxieties melt away, as they tend to do around him, and you can’t even remember why you were so stressed in the first place! It’s Leo, after all.

He’s dying (in a good way) on the inside though. He’s just internally screaming. Holy shit his crush is giving him chocolate? And it’s homemade? Oh my god look at that tiny white chocolate drizzle, that’s so cute!! Is that a strawberry?? MANY thoughts, head FULL, and in LOVE.

(He’s gonna hardcore brag about it to his brothers later.)

His heart is pounding out of his chest, although he doesn’t divulge that information.

He asks you out right then and there. Like!!!

He doesn’t actually say the word “date,” but god. You’re suddenly all shy again, and you can’t do anything but nod furiously.

The date is super casual, (yes its at Hueso’s. He begs him to pull out all of the stops, and he does so, even if only to shut up Leo. Actual king <3) and it really puts you at ease. At some point he moves to hold your hand, and you can’t help the way your heart leaps into your throat. And he'd be lying if he didn’t feel the same way.

His confession is so eloquent, and yet… dorky. Sweet. Like he’s rehearsed it a million times, trying to find the best possible words to win your heart. Little did he know, he’s always had it.

Donatello:

oh no

He didn’t plan for this. Like, this was literally the one thing he didn’t plan for.

(He has confidence issues, give him a break!! How could he have known that you were going to give him something too? And give it first as well?? Which sets a precedent for the gift he gives?? Social interactions are Awful and he’s in Hell.)

He’s still pleasantly surprised though!

He kind of short-circuits for a moment, and he’s completely deadpan for at least three seconds. It’s the worst couple seconds of your life. Then he comes back to reality and thanks you super genuinely.

(It’s hard to read him at the best of times, and this is. So much. He just doesn’t know what to do with himself!!!)

He takes his time looking at every detail on the chocolates, and your anxiety dies down as you see the softest smile grace his features. It’s so genuine, and you don’t even think he knows he is smiling, so it’s really reassuring.

You take the time to really study his features, and fuck, he’s really pretty. You’re both flustered when you guys come back to reality.

He made you a gift too!! In fact, he has a whole day planned out.

It’s a long and fun day of running around the Hidden City, and at night, in New York.

It’s incredible.

He’s confident, and he says all the right things. He’s had this night planned out for weeks, and fuck if it doesn’t shine through.

At the end of the night, he gives you his gift with averted eyes. It’s a strange contrast to the pure exciting, confident persona he’s been putting on all day.

It’s handmade, and tailored to your exact interests and equipped with his own, Donatello-Style flair.

He’s confident in his tech, and he knows you like the back of his hand, but this is… completely new territory.

Valentine’s Day has never been so perfect.

Michelangelo

He did the same thing, actually!!! So this is actually so perfect for him!!

He spent all night making the perfect chocolates. Most of them are filled, and those that aren’t have some unique, artistic drizzle adorning them. If you hadn’t known better, you would have thought he got them from a fancy chocolate place.

He genuinely can’t contain his excitement when you hand him the box all shyly. His eyes light up with the brightness of a dying star going supernova.

He immediately hugs you, careful not to crush the chocolates, and then his mouth is moving at a mile a minute. It’s almost hard to keep up!! He’s just so happy and excited, and he’s running to the kitchen and he has a box too??? Hello, what’s going on??

He’s trying so hard to not just blurt out a confession here and now.

It’s completely impromptu, but he suggests going out on the town. He didn’t plan it, he was honestly just planning to stay in and watch some movies with you, but now that you’ve brought him a Valentine’s Day gift too? That means you like him too right, maybe?

If he’s gonna confess to you, it’s sure as hell not gonna be in a sewer. (Even if it is his home. It just ain’t right, man!)

It’s really fun! You feel so at home with him, and there’s no pressure at all.

Everything just seems to fall into place around him. He’s your home. Unbeknownst to you, he feels the exact same way.

He confesses by the end of the night. It’s so sweet and sincere, but there isn’t a single moment of hesitation. He’s so head over heels for you, and that love shows itself in every movement and word.

April

She’s never been given chocolates before!! She’s always looked on in envy through middle school, highschool, at work, etc. So fuck, if she’s not immediately swarmed with emotion. She’s like, two seconds away from crying. I love her so much…

It’s actually really funny, because she ordered a really nice bouquet of ivory & pink flowers from her local flower shop for you, but they hadn’t arrived yet! She’s super upfront with it, and it gets a good laugh out of both of you. The classic April O’Neil luck, ey?

It definitely lightens the mood, and she suggests going out to a local restaurant to get lunch, and then maybe go sightseeing! Or maybe just goof around in the Hidden City? No pressure!

It’s super fun! You never want the night to end, to be quite honest.

You get to choose the music while you guys drive around, and you end up picking the silliest stuff. You guys laugh and belt out the lyrics to every song.

The food at the restaurant is perfect, and everything goes off without a hitch. At some point she reaches across the table to interlock fingers with you, and you’re suddenly alight with so much love and recognition that this is an official date, and your best friend - your crush - is holding hands with you, and her hand is so soft and warm and… you’re so in love. And unbeknownst to you, she’s feeling the exact same strain of emotion.

At the end of the night she takes you to a rainy spot in the Hidden City, and you guys dance and sing in the rain.

Everything feels so natural and perfect with her. She’s your safe space, your home, your world.

You can barely stand to part at the end of the night.

When you do get back to your home, you find her gift at your front door. It’s a beautiful bouquet of white Gardenias, pink Carnations, pink Peonies, and… a white Lily. They stand perfectly in a vase, apparently left at your doorstep by the delivery driver. You place them on your kitchen counter as soon as you can, and text her immediately.

You love her with all your heart, and she’s head over heels for you, too.

#rottmnt x reader #rottmnt imagine #tmnt donatello x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt michelangelo x reader #tmnt april x reader #april o'neil x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt raphael x reader #rottmnt Donatello x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #donatello hamato x reader #leonardo hamato x reader #rottmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt imagine #tmnt x reader

308 notes · View notes

admiringlove · 4 years ago

Text

scent, coffee and turtlenecks.

+synopsis: hq boys and their scent, their coffee order and the turtlenecks they wear.

+genre: fluff lol; headcanons.

+characters: akaashi keiji, miya atsumu, kuroo tetsurō, sugawara kōshi.

+warnings: literally just fluff man, unless you cry because of cute stuff.

+author’s notes: inspired by @neonghxst on tumblr!! go check them out, they have a great blog and i love their writing <3

— AKAASHI KEIJI.

he smells like the first rain of the monsoon. the petrichor, the atmosphere, the sole comfort it brings you by being in his arms. it reminds you of being in the rain for the first time. his arms are firm when he embraces you, yet somehow he holds you as if you’re the most fragile thing in the universe. his scent is addicting; sometimes you never want to let go of him, and you fall asleep in his arms as he’s typing up an essay for literature. he’d smile down at you, pressing a loving peck to your forehead and carry you to bed. you’d sleepily mumble against him, “keiji you smell nice. cuddle me please” of course he doesn’t resist against it, because how can he? you look adorable. being in his arms are like being an elysian—pure heaven for your mortal heart.

definitely addicted to caffeine. but he’s one of those people that calculates up a schedule so he’s making sure the caffeine is working hundred-per-cent. he orders something strong in the mornings—like a hot vienna coffee in medium size and that’s it. no sugar, because this man likes his coffee bitter. and if he’s pulling all-nighters, then cold brew all the way. everyone at the café likes him a lot; his aesthetic and his orders match up perfectly(too bad he’s yours though).

man has a lot of turtlenecks. he’s the type of person that collects them in different colors. but not something too flashy, because he is simple and elegant. he has a range of grey’s and a few beiges, some pumpkin and whites and blacks. he even has blue(his closet is basically a color wheel of turtlenecks). to be honest, you don’t know how he fits so many clothes into his wardrobe. he basically is a autumn/fall wear model in making. it’s the season he gets the most compliments from strangers(because this man wears turtlenecks even in summer).

— MIYA ATSUMU.

smells like pine and sandalwood. his scent feels like home. whenever he finishes a game and wins, he’ll run to you(who’s in the stands) and he’ll engulf you first. the scent will overcome you, the crowd behind fading away as you feel like you’ve arrived home after a long trip and simply want to rest for a bit in the comfort of your own bed. the blond will throw you the dashiest smile in front of the public, but the softest one in private. nights with atsumu are filled with his homey scent on the couch, as you read to him and he falls asleep in your arms or your lap. you’d peck him, and he’d say, “yer sniffin’ me again, aren’t ya?” only to get poked in the eye by you after. “i don’t sniff you!” you’d yell at him as he falls onto the floor after you harshly get up and go to the bedroom, but he’d follow you and lay in bed with you and embrace you, the aroma coming over you again as he says “i know ya like my cologne, dummy. i like your scent too. c’mere so i can hug ya.”

his orders are neither too bitter nor too sweet. he probably is one of those people that tries everything on the menu first before deciding what he likes. he’ll later decide on a mocha latte with the slightest chocolate drizzle on top. he likes the small bitterness and the twist the chocolate brings to the drink. it’s steamy, and it makes his throat clear up. his heart rate slows down a smidge and he just sits there and sips on the drink till he’s calm, cool and collected. it’s a drink that makes his day better for sure. and for cold drinks, atsumu would go for an iced caramel macchiato. it just clicks with him for some reason.

he has a good collection. by this, i mean that he’s a king of knowing what looks good on him and what doesn’t. he knows what exactly to pick —whether it be a sleeveless olive green turtleneck, or a beige one with an overcoat. he’s cocky, and he knows he looks good. man is definitely a king of accessories and wears the proper amount of necklaces, rings, or whatever he thinks will go with his outfit. definitely winks at you when he catches you stare at him for too long and tells you to take a picture.

— KUROO TETSURŌ.

he smells like mahogany teakwood. it’s captivating and comforting at the same time. he wakes up before you in the mornings, so when you wake up, you’re immediately engulfed by this strong yet soothing scent. he’s holding you in his arms and stroking your hair ever-so-softly, and you let out a small whine which let him know that you’re about to wake up. and when you open your eyes, he throws you a softened smile that screams, “good morning” or “i love you” and a thousand diiferent affirmations at the same time. you run your fingers through his hair, looking up with one eye closed as he mumbles, “we have to get up for class”, and your nose scrunches at those words as you pull him closer and letting out a muffled, “i’d rather stay in bed with you for eternity”.

his order isn’t too bitter, but it’s enough to keep him awake. if he’s going for something cold, it’s going to be a dark roast cold brew with sweet-salted caramel cream. it’s a little bitter—but it manages to make him stay awake through the night to finish up an assignment or two. and if it’s a hot drink he prefers, then he definitely goes for an espresso macchiato. it makes him feel at home when you’re not there by his side.

he’s definitely the type of person that tries everything for fun. you’re laughing in the background as he pulls on a neon yellow turtleneck, the only problem is that he’s actually rocking it. he looks amazing even in the most craziest choice of clothing. although you always buy him many different shades of red(he has a lot of red in his closet—maroons, scarlets, pumpkins, you name it), he looks good in almost anything. he always makes you laugh by buying abnormal things then putting them on in front of you to check if it looks good or not—and most of the times, it does.

— SUGAWARA KŌSHI.

he smells like a mixture of vanilla and cinnamon. it reminds you of winter mornings, when the two of you used to go to high-school hand-in-hand with small to-go coffees that you’d have. suga is definitely the type to snuggle into you every chance he gets after getting to know that you like his scent. it’s cute to him, and he makes you feel comfortable. every time the two of you are alone, he will inch closer and closer to you, finding solace in the fact that just his presence makes your mood lighten up. he’ll hold his hand out in front of your mouth so you can press a kiss to his knuckles, he’ll kiss your forehead and get dangerously close to you(so close that you’re practically a tomato), and he’ll mutter, “hey, come here. i wanna hug you” as you stand there with a really big blush. you’ll mumble, “you smell nice, ko” and his confidence level just rises up by fifty percent.

he’s bougie. he gets a hazelnut bianco latte, just something about it reminds him of the same winter mornings he shared with you. the way you prayed at the temple for his well-being when he was sick, or the way he stayed in his bed for days and you were sitting next to him for most of that time. it’s an over the top and extra drink, but it makes him comfortable and gives him a sense of nostalgia. for a colder preference, he gets a pistachio frappuccino. it’s soft and delicate, and the taste is really elegant.

he prefers sweaters, but his go-to color is grey. suga would look good in almost anything, but he likes sweaters and woolen vests more than turtlenecks. although, if he has to choose a color to wear, then he’d choose grey(you name it, whether it be steel grey or a nice shade of pewter). he looks amazing in an abundance of shades of greys and even black—pair it with a scarf and dickies, and he looks like an angel on earth. you always compliment him, and he always ends up looking away while blushing like a high-school kid in love(well, you can’t blame him. he was one at some point).

192 notes · View notes

dendotdrabbles · 2 years ago

Text

when i write stuff for the skelebros, i like to use House on lane 66 rules for magic, because i think they're fun. here are my hcs for the skelebros magic colors and smells (and bonus Dusks :])

-the dusks dont have multiverse names yet, so bear with me <3

Undertale Skelebros!

-Classic Sans' magic is prussian blue, and smells like fresh linen. i feel like if you were to kiss him, he'd taste like the smell of warm, fresh linen. if that makes sense? he really loves naps, ok?

-Papyrus (universe nickname is Paprika) his magic is orange (duh) and while i love Lane 66's idea that his magic smells like oatmeal cookies, i think he sees himself as a very energetic tough guy!! so i think his magic would smell like fresh cut grass. if you kissed him, he tastes very herbal. i think he'd joke about his kisses being good for your health. it just feels right.

-Dusk is a patience soul with an integrity twin, which lightens the cyan of patience into a nice sky blue, and their magic smells like coffee. they are a very hardworking person who gets shit done, and likes to have a nice cup of coffee while they work.

(since hybrid magic is purely based on the soul, the color of their magic reflects the state of their soul as well. meaning that all dusks have similar colored magic, due to their almost identical souls. )

Underswap Skelebros!

-Blue. i got tired of the infantilized ideas of blue and classic paps, and i think you can tell. in my brain, Blue's magic is electric blue, and smells like rain. if you kissed him, he'd taste like petrichor.

-Stretch! look, i know we love a sassy skele, but i feel like Stretch is very sweet at heart, he is a papyrus after all. they all had once truly believed that anyone can be a good person, even if that ideal is warped now. anyways, Stretch's magic is amber in color, and smells like dandelions. i bet he'd taste a little floral if you kissed him.

- Swap Dusk is still pretty hardworking, but pushed their efforts in a different direction, instead of leadership, they became an influencer (and they hate it, it feels like lying, but they're trying to sway the people into voting for them) their soul is more patient then their counterparts, leaving them a seafoam blue with magic that smells like Eucalyptus

Underfell skelebros!

-Red. we all know that he's a big ol softie under that gruff exterior, and i think he knows that too. but he doesn't think he's worthy because of the bad things he's done in the past, which is why i think his magic smells like burnt marshmallows. also its red, ofc. i don't think i've seen a fell sans who's magic isn't red.

-Edge! we know him, we love our little tsundere, and i think his magic is blood orange and smells like gunpowder. i think it'd be that color because he feels incredibly guilty for all the lives he's taken, as much as he tries to hide it. i remember a fic I'd read where (i think it was a swapfell fic actually) mutt had drawn every person he'd killed so he wouldn't forget their faces. i think Edge does something similar. not sure what yet tho. maybe he writes letters to them, never to be sent.

-Fell Dusk. they are the General, leader of their district and protector of their people no matter the cost of personal relations. they must be strong and logical at all times, making their soul a shade closer to integrity than the Tale version, a nice cerulean blue with magic that smells like peppermint. sharp and eye watering if used correctly.

Swapfell

-Nox. i feel like his magic is royal purple, and smells like disinfectant. i feel like hes a neat freak because he wants to have control over something in his life, so he cleans nearly obsessively and his magic shows that. i feel like Mutt teases him about it "you clean so much that even your magic is clean!" and Nox doesn't realize he's teasing? so he's all proud of himself. very cute, can you tell i love the swapfell brothers?

- Mutt! or Rus. either or. anyways, his magic is Mulberry in color and smells like cinnamon. where as Lane 66's Mutt smells like cloves (which is a VERY powerful smell, i feel like its very bold and the cloves reflect that version of mutt perfectly) my characterization of mutt isn't as bold, he's more shy around people that aren't his brother or other trusted person, which is why i think cinnamon suits him more than cloves. still "spicy" but more toned down.

-Swapfell Dusk is known as the Guardian, they are not the leader (yet) but are in charge of protecting and providing for everyone, creating a safe space for their people to thrive. ironically, swapfell dusk's soul is the closet to tale's in shade, being a baby blue in color, and their magic smelling like burnt jasmine.

Horrortale

-Bear. we love our boy, but he is very tired and very scared, even if he doesn't show it. his magic is slate grey (with a blue-ish tinge. very subtle tho) and his magic smells like charcoal

-Cook. very sweet soul, in a bad environment which forced him to do bad things to survive. his magic is rust colored, and smells like old books. i feel like when he's overwhelmed or having to do something he doesn't want to do, he retreats into his mind, and pretends he's reading a very scary book.

-Horrortale Dusk is a very sad sight, someone who was once so calm and put together falling apart when their twin and children were killed. they protect their last two loved ones with their life, having no regard for their own safety, and if it came down to it would become their dinner willingly if it meant their survival. since the integrity twin was killed, dusk is nothing but corrupt patience now, their soul being a sickly pale blue and magic smelling like smoke

House on Lane 66 belongs to @oolongteacup426

highly recommend!! its such a great fic <3

#underswap sans #undertale sans #undertale papyrus #underswap papyrus #underswap #underfell sans #underfell papyrus #swapfell sans #swapfell papyrus #horrortale sans #horrortale papyrus #headcanons #undertale oc

16 notes · View notes

nightswithkookmin · 3 years ago

Text

PERMISSION TO DANCE REVIEW

This meme above right about sums it up.

I'm not gonna dwell much on the song and it's message. I think it was an OK song. Sounded a bit highschool musical in my ears. I thought it works well as a bonus song on an Album after you've listened to a set of deep heavy themed songs like BE for example.

It lightens up your mood- my melancholic ass could never. As a stand alone song and following Butter... To each their own.

I don't know, but I feel I've heard this exact song over and over again- that's the type of song they made. If you know what I mean. Pop, it's called?

Also, I don't think I am the target audience for this type of music. I'm an emo angsty basic bitch type. Stay Gold, Louder than Bombs, Zero O'clock is more my thing, I'll do Dynamite, Butter on a commercial break or after listening to Adele. Filter is my Jam and Serendipity will always be that song for me.

Lately I've been listening to Sweetnight and Abyss. Just listen to the Army playlist they made for us. I cried listening to it and didn't know what to do with myself when Jimin performed Filter. HE IS A GREAT PERFORMER AND TALENT.

PTD has its listeners I won't lie. It has its unique audience in and outside the fandom. It does appeal to certain types of people and those are gonna be really happy with it- I envy them. If they had done an Airplane pt2 remix or an English remix of all their past hit songs like Fire, DNA, BWL, BST, I would have loved that instead but we don't always get what we want. I would sell my heart and kidneys to stream Filter if it comes in a full English version sang by Jimin. Hell I'll gladly pick cotton off the plantation and put chains on my legs myself if Jikook should hop on it too. uWu🤭

We can't like the same stuff or have the same taste in music. But we have BTS in common. And I think it's ok to not like certain songs but it's weird if you stop supporting them because of it. It broke my heart when we didn't break Butter's record. But that also goes to show the strength of the other songs. People streamed butter and dynamite not just because it's BTS but because they actually liked it. It's as simple as that.

As for PTD, I mean, I like HSM and Glee and still have a couple of sound tracks I listen to every now and then from their set list. I bet I could add PTD to that playlist and it will blend right in. Hold on lemme try that.

Yup. Blends right in. It's very pop boy bandy.

youtube

I think a major issue with the song for me is the people interchanging kid bop and happy song when critiquing the song. Just because it's a happy song don't make it a kid bop or vice versa.

Granted it is POP MUSIC NEVERTHELESS.

BTS are a Korean POP artist. They make POP music. POP music is often the song you hear in highschool musicals sometimes, and in Kid bops but that's just because these genres of music share similar features. They are upbeat, fast paced, have memorable rhythms and hooks.

The song they make is no different from the songs Gaga and all these other Pop artists make. I mean y'all know Lady Gaga's Rain on me won a Grammy right??? There's nothing wrong with Pop music.

BTS does the same songs these POP artists do except in Korean and they've modified the genre a little bit and given it their own flair and personal touch which make their songs stand out even within Kpop.

Their songs have always had that catchy upbeat rhythms, case in point boy with love. DNA, BST. They lace these upbeat sounds with serious heavy messages and discuss deep meaningful themes and social issues behind those beats and I feel that's what a lot of people are used to.

A lot of 'Kid bop' do that too. There can be happy, cherry beats with deep messages behind it or dark heavy beats with light and not so deep messages. Why do y'all associate light weighted messages with children's acts and songs? Y'all hate children don't you?

I think a lot of people are bemoaning the fact they are not used to BTS making such pop music devoid of the heavy and serious messages which was their key signature. We can't demonize such people.

I personally do love me some Pop music, even Kids bop. But I lean towards those Pop with deeper meanings whether or not those are cherry or melancholic beats. I prefer Intentions to Yummy for example- that's just because I don't have that yummy yummy for the men. Girls only. Sorry.

I think this is what Jimin addressed in a VLive when they discussed their desire to send out hopeful messages to the world and Jimin said they had to be careful not to over do it because that would undermine their efforts? Please stan Jimin. His emotional intelligence is something else.

Him talking about Zero Oclock and how RM's lyricism resonates with him spoke volumes as to how he and perhaps some of the others feel with the direction they are taking their music. I don't know. Just my thought. I think he spoke for some of us when he said that and RM had them move on quickly from that topic. Insert skull heads.

They can't make serious themed songs all the time. But I think the problem here is not a lot of people organically appreciate the genre of music or artistry they are veering into- granted not a lot of people appreciate BTS organically too. Western artists get criticized just as much for the music they make as well as their artistry and I think it's preposterous if we as a fandom expect the market to hold BTS to a different standard- again, granted some just plain ass hate BTS so there's that.

If you look at the top 10 songs on the billboard 100, and you consider even the genre of the song competing at number two next to butter you should understand where some people are coming from- those genuine critics I mean.

I think people who are not in the fandom should stay out of fandom business. Y'all never liked BTS shut up. Y'all never supported them when they were killing themselves making great music. Y'all never appreciated them fuxk off and leave us to it.

For those of us in the fandom I think we have every right to be honest with our boys. We is their ride or die and we owe it to them to be honest with them. Know what I mean?

If you don't like it it's cool. There are hundred others you liked and would like in the future. Personally, I'm looking forward to when the Pandemic is over and they release a full album like before. It's gone be fire I just know it! Let's win some, let's lose some but please keep on supporting them.

Stream, stream, stream. Nobody has their backs out here apart from us. And I hope they listen. They better come online and talk to us and hear what we have to say cos lately this feels very much one sided💀

I thought Dynamite was great. Butter was amazing. PTD is OK - just not for me.

Now on to the MV.

I'm sorry but Bighit didn't understand the assignment on this one for me. I gotta say as a gay woman. Directornim run us back our monies please. Thank you.

A lot of people have praised the video for incorporating sign language in the video- something they've been doing for a while now, especially Tae- shout out to Tae. Dude has been a positive influence on the group since day dot and they are lucky to have him.

BTS killed it as always. Whatever it is they do, they always put their best foot forward- except for those times they literally walked through the choreography on stage or rolled on the floor like tummy full panda bears. RM I'm looking at you. If you are tired just say so. Tae you too- don't even we saw you🤣

Jin gets a pass cos he's always complaining bout the choreo anyway💀

Park Jimin gets a gold medal for this MV cos that man danced like his life depended on it. He put his whole back into this and when he threw his jacket in the end I cried because I couldn't catch it- I was too far away from the TV. Y'all don't know how it feels 😭😭😭

I think he missed a step somewhere but it's fine. No one noticed. Lol. He is so cute. He was probably the only member who stood out for me in the whole MV- and no it's not because he's my bias. He is a very hardworking guy and it showed. Not to say the others didn't work hard.

He brought that high school musical larger than life dramatic dance performance from the moment he stepped into frame- I mean if it must be done, it must be done well, no?

I loved what Tae did at the center of the dance formation. I love when he centers. I watched that bit several times. He is a really breathtakingly handsome man. Jk at the opening was chef's kiss. I love how the song itself begins. The beat, the rhythm, LOVE IT.

Sope can come for my money. All of it.

Please RM is for the blacks. We claim him as a Wakandaian. Wakanda forever.

Jk's initial hairstyle was not my favorite but I guess it served its purpose too. I would have lost all self confidence if they gave me that haircut and asked me to dance infront of my peers to a highschool musical but dude danced like he had the best fit in the world on... good for him. We love a confident king.

My personal idiosyncrasies aside, I think I was mostly disappointed with how bland and nonrevolutionary the visuals were in terms of the coding and portrayal community and the diverse groups- feel free to roll your eyes at me. Lol.

A lot of people applaud them for the way they seemed to celebrate community and strived to be inclusive of everyone in terms of the video's portrayal of a diverse cast of characters. But it is in this representation I have problems.

This idealistic notion of community seems out of touch with reality and frankly I found some of the artistic directions out of date.

The sense of community portrayed in the video works well- IN 1995. Not 2021.

A girl in a uniform serving food to a group of men- strike one.

It's 2021. You still cast women as waitresses and maternal in Music videos??? Is that all that we are? I guess some women are but that's just lazy stereotyping. Put a man in that role for once chilee. Let's normalize men being care givers and nurturers too.

A woman at a desk working for a man- strike two.

How about the two men work at the desk while the woman is cast as the boss who supervises them because women are no longer secretaries to these men of letters of yore? How about that???

And yes, I saw the Janitor in the school setting but let's not act like Women being cast as teachers is revolutionary. Sounds normative to me.

It's 2021 you can't be using these lame ass over done stereotypes and cliche of a visual to represent people. You can't keep putting women in the Kitchen, men in the offices with women as their secretaries😫

Do better.

Heterosexual couples and the rampant heteronormativity throughout the video- strike three.

Now unless, these models are secretly transgendered or queer HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NOT SHOW DIVERSITY in the way you portray couples and relationships in a project like this IN 2021?

In which universe sir? IN WHICH UNIVERSE?

Not all relationships are traditional nowadays. AND YES REPRESENTATION MATTERS. If you are gonna go there GO THERE. You gotta be actively inclusive my guy. I saw the racial diversity, age diversity, economic diversity but the gender and sexuality diversity, inclusivity and representation- WHERE IS IT????

If you can't show two gay couples kissing DON'T SHOW TWO HETEROSEXUAL COUPLES KISSING. We hate to see it just as they hate to see us kissing on screens. We are tired of seeing heterosexualilty being presented as the acceptable norm. If you as men can grind on eachother, have all these delulu people swear up and down y'all are gay in a polyamorous relationship and kiss up on eachother as men for entertainment YOU CAN CERTAINLY HAVE ACTUAL QUEER PEOPLE DO ALL OF THAT IN YOUR MUSIC VIDEOS FOR REPRESENTATION.

It's not enough to queer bait and put queer in the subtext. How about you put heterosexuality in the subtext? Have a man and woman stare awkwardly at eachother and let the audience imply intimacy from that while the gays jump eachother's bones full frontal in full HD?

And couldn't you at least cast 'disabled' models too?? The wheelchairs WHERE IS IT? The world is not just filled with able bodied people who have two eyes and two legs and run around dancing like a bunch of hippies you know??? Respect to Hippies.

There are homeless people, bed ridden people, sick people, poor people, gay, lesbians, neurodivergents, trans, and all calibre of people in the world and I know you can't represent all but at least get the basics rights. What happened to yall?? Y'all seem out of tune with your fanbase chilee. Lemme mind my business before I throw hands.

They had so many opportunities to push the limits on certain boundaries in media. I'm used to Kpop and BTS being revolutionary and their art offering a commentary on social issues. I mean hell, female Kpop artists switching their male dancers for female dancers and vice versa in a homoerotic performance will never not be epic.

They better replace that heterosexual couple with Jikook and make them kiss and shit in the live performances else I'm sending a truck full of rants. I just want some gay in text, IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!

It felt like the video leaned heavily into western stereotypes in how it portrayed community, women, gender roles and relationships. It leaned into the conservative end of the spectrum which my nonconservative ass can't relate to.

I want to know what other queer people think about this. I was so excited when I saw the woman in the beginning but disappointed when the man and woman kissed instead I won't lie. I mean I would gladly kiss the women in there for them if it's that's deep. I love children but I don't want one for myself so I don't know how I feel about the kids running around in the MV. If anything it made me nervous. But it was cute. I'm scared of all the bts parents theories that will be come out of this.

I miss Holland. I'm gonna have to watch his music videos to heal from this cos there's too much straight in this MV I feel oppressed.

Jimin please do the gay for the fam we are being starved and under represented 🙁

All hail our 'gay Moses' or was it Jesus?

PTD Is for the hets and abled bodied.

Can't win them all.

I'm happy there are some people who saw themselves in the video and appreciate the fact they were represented- however way they were represented.

I think it's amazing BTS has diverse musical genres in diverse languages- English, Spanish, Japanese, Korean, etc. Not many artists can pull that off. And I want to hear them sing in as many Languages as they can.

But I would feel alienated if suddenly they were doing Japanese songs back to back- hell I get jealous when they and Karmy get on their kinship shit.

It's a bit disappointing that we the 'English' stans don't appreciate that for almost a year they have been catering to us- granted that has been rewarding for them too.

It took them a while to find their sound when they started out. I think it will take them a while to find their sound if making English songs is something that has come to stay. We just have to be patient with them.

I'm gonna manifest English Filter and Serendipity and leave this fandom to the chaos.

In short. I don't have an opinion on this topic.

Signed,

GOLDY

#Youtube

82 notes · View notes

candreloup · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! I heard you were looking for asks so I was hoping you could write about a hero with social anxiety who everyone thinks is shy, but in reality they actually have a lot to say and they are super sweet and considerate. And if their nemesis could be a suave villain who knows them better than anyone (and maybe even has a soft spot for them) then that would be amazing. Have a good day!

I am having a good day, thank you!(maybe it's because of your well-wishes :D) Have fun with this one too, this prompt looks super interesting. I'm excited to write it! Also I'm trying to write at least one snippet every day, but I might miss some days(depends on amount of stuff that day, inspiration, etc)- but for the summer I can actually have a consistent schedule! (Ignore the fact that today's is a bit late, haha) But anywho- on to the story!(wow that's like my catchphrase now)

Edit: also i have realized this may not be exactly what the original ask is about... so I think I'm going to do another one mor accurate to the request hehe

Hero gazed out of the window, staring into the rainy drizzle outside. It was a gray day, overcast and chilly with just the right touch of gloomy. The perfect day to sit inside with a cup of tea and listen to music. Instead, Hero was stuck inside, waiting for the rain to abate and sweating in the too-warm room. The temperature was just a touch too high, barely a few degrees over comfortable. It was a nice gesture, but in someone's over-eagerness to please, they had switched the discomfort to the other side. Oh well. Hero thought. At least the rain seems to be stopping soon.

The rain in question was slowing to a drizzle, the sky lightening and the sun beginning to peek out of the dissolving clouds. The inside was beginning to swelter, filling with heat faster than the dripping rain could cool it off.

Hero thought, "Here it comes."

The next few seconds came in flashes, going in and out of Hero's field of perception. The door slams. Flash. Windows shatter. Flash. A sweet smell drifts through the broken windows. Flash. A smooth voice fills Hero's head. Flash.

"Hello, Hero. It's nice to see you again."

It was over before Hero knew it. The sudden storm of sound, sight and smell flooding Hero's senses vanished in an instant, whirlpooling back into the singular figure in the center of the room, sitting languidly on a velvety chair. Villain.

Hero walked forward mechanically, feeling... numb. It had been years since they'd seen Villain, long before they became "Villain" and ceased to be "Friend". Hero could remember, clear as day, when that familiar face had appeared on the TV screen of the cold cafeteria. Along with a headline that read, "Dangerous criminal at large: 9 dead in lethal attack on Organization." And when the alarms started to wail, filling Hero's muddled mind with even more confusion. They'd struggled to process it, at first; it took them longer than it perhaps should have to realize that that smiling young child was no longer so young, and definitely no longer smiling. No. Instead they looked angry, resentful at the world for the cards they'd been dealt. Not like before. Not like before, when despite all the hardship and suffering that had been thrown their way, Friend had still seemed to love life. To cherish it and fill it with as much happiness as they could, as if to make up for the lost joy in other places.

What happened to you, my friend?

That all vanished into nothingness when Hero saw Villain sitting in front of them, fiddling with some small trinket in their fingers. Waiting. Waiting for what? Hero wondered, staring at the different, but still recognizable face. Waiting for... for...

Villain looked up. Hero stopped, waited along with Villain. What are they waiting for? Villain spun the trinket in their fingers and with a deft movement flicked it back into the dark recesses of their jacket.

"Waiting for you, Hero." Hero flinched. That was new. Hero sighed. They hadn't bothered to do research on Villain. Stupid! They'd been so naïve, believing that this clearly changed person sitting in front of them would still act the same, talk the same. But it was too late for that. All that they could do now was grasp at the small thread they had, hope beyond hope that they could figure out a way to bring Villain back. Now all that was left to do was try to understand, try to puzzle out what happened to that little kid they'd played with. And to try to bring that bright soul back.

"I know what you're thinking." The sudden noise startled Hero, jerked them out of their thoughts.

"Oh?" Hero struggled to stay as neutral as possible. Villain chuckled.

"You're so transparent, Hero. Just like I used to be. A dumb little kid. And you're wondering: What happened?" Hero hid their surprise as best they could. It wasn't enough. Hero could tell, could see the glee in Villain's eyes at Hero's confusion. It was a malicious joy, so different from that happiness they used to have.

"Now you're thinking that I've changed. Again. I did change. That's true. But I'm still the same person."

Hero cleared their throat, struggling for the right words to say.

"...No, you're not."

"Oh yes I am. I'm still 'Friend', even if I"-Villain gestured to their face and body-"changed in appearance. And perhaps personality."

Hero shook their head. "No. The friend I knew would never murder someone. You... you aren't my friend. My friend is gone." The bite in those words seemed to sting Villain, the hurt in their eyes barely visible. But it was quickly covered up and replaced with cold humor.

"O sentimental fool! You really believe your little friend was so great, huh! I almost feel bad for you."

"No. I know my friend was a good person."

"Ahhhh, you knew your friend so well! I see. Then tell me this, Hero. How is it that you never knew where your little friend lived? Or chose to ask? And how is it that you never noticed the deadness in their eyes or the tear stains on their cheeks? Tell me, Hero!" Villain spat. The venom in their voice was audible now, cutting through the smooth, smug tone as Villain glared at Hero. "And tell me, little Hero, how you never saw the bruises and scars on your friend's body? Tell me how you never, not once noticed how isolated, how totally alone your friend felt?" Villain was standing now, advancing slowly towards Hero with rage in their eyes. "Tell me how, Hero. TELL ME!" they half-screamed, standing almost nose to nose with Hero.

Hero kept their calm. Strangely enough, this was almost better than before, better than that slick villain sitting elegantly on the chair. Hero preferred unhinged to silence. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, the little Hero is sorry! Ha! What a joke! Well, little Hero with the oh-so-great-friend, explain to me your reasoning when you left me!!"

Hero snapped. They'd been calm, silent, reasonable this whole time. Kept their cool, kept their patience. Remembered- this is a person in pain. They are in pain because of me. I used to love them.

But the last line was the final straw.

"Oh, Villain, you want to know about leaving??" Hero yelled, standing on their toes and staring directly into Villain's wide eyes. "You want to know about loneliness, about feeling betrayed? You know, Villain, JUST BECAUSE YOU FELT ALONE DOESN'T MEAN I DIDN'T!" Hero screamed, filled with an uncharacteristic amount of rage.

"Hero, calm-"

"NO. For every time you hid things, every time you made me feel like I WASN'T THERE FOR YOU despite my CONSTANT PRESENCE, I'm going to tell you. You want to know, Villain? You REALLY WANT TO KNOW? Every SINGLE time I asked, EVERY TIME I BEGGED AND PLEADED WITH YOU TO TELL ME, you know what you did?"

"Hero-"

"TELL ME, VILLAIN. DO YOU REMEMBER?"

"I-"

"YOU RAN AWAY! So don't sit there, with your chair and suit BULLSHIT, and try and tell me that I WASN'T A GOOD FRIEND. Don't. Do you know how many times I tried, Villain? And god damn, COULDN'T YOU SPARE A SINGLE THOUGHT TO TELL ME? But no, you NEVER SAID A WORD. You just pranced around, acting happy until I left. Because APPARENTLY, EVERY SINGLE THING I THOUGHT I KNEW ABOUT MY FRIEND IS A FUCKING LIE."

Hero was breathing hard, still bubbling with anger. How dare they, how dare Villain accuse Hero of not trying. God knew they tried. Every. Single. Day. But even through all of that Hero had faith in Villain. They'd believed Villain was still good. But then that news report had come out. And now, Hero realized that their entire childhood had been a façade.

"I... I'm sorry." The words were almost a whisper, so quiet Hero could barely hear it. But they still heard it.

"Sorry won't cut it."

"I know."

"You know, Villain? Do you really?"

"I thought I knew."

"I loved you, Villain. I almost still do." Hero whispered into the room, feeling their words bounce off the bare walls. "I loved you..."

Villain looked up from their chair, eyes wide. "...You did?"

Hero started crying softly, tears rolling slowly down their face. "You idiot. You lovable fucking idiot." Villain stood slowly, looking ashamed. "Come here." Hero opened their arms to Villain, sobbing when Villain fell into the comforting embrace. "You idiot. I missed you," they whispered, tears falling onto Villain's shoulder.

"I missed you too," Villain murmured softly, quiet tears gently falling onto the floor.

It sounded like rain.

#hero and villain #hero #villain #hero x villain #villain and hero #villain x hero #crying scene #yelling scene #losing it #anger #screaming #rain #eeeeeee i'm proud of this one #should i make extra scenes hehe #i could totally shatter everyone's hearts right now holy moly i have so much power #this had a different ending but you don't want to know what happened in the other ending

53 notes · View notes

sinnergetreadymp3 · 3 years ago

Text

CHAMERON FIC CHAMERON FIC CHAMERON FIC

Uhhhhh I feel like I should give this a title but I have no idea what to call so uh, nevermind !!

Anyways,I finally finished the fic I said I was writing like,a month ago lol. All my Chameron stans out there this one's for u,I rlly hope at least one person enjoys this,I rlly enjoyed writing it !! Ok sappy stuff outta the way,here it is:

As rain pounded against the window Charlie sent what was probably the thousandth crumpled ball of paper across the room.

"Jesus Charlie,is your arm not getting tired?"

Charlie smirked at that, clearly preparing to make a dirty minded joke,but a thoroughly exhausted Richard Cameron was already one step ahead.

"You know what,forget I asked, you're gross."

Getting up from the seat at his desk and ignoring an indignant retort from Charlie, Cameron thought of the rest of his friends,out for the weekend. Todd and Neil celebrating their one year anniversary, Meeks and Pitts embarking on a two day road trip,for what they still claimed to be, entirely platonic reasons (although the rest of the poets were all too aware of the almost palpable romantic tension between them). Even Knox had found something to do with himself on this miserable Friday night.

And here Cameron was,stuck in his dorm with nothing but stacks of extra homework and his obnoxious roommate to keep him company.

Speaking of that obnoxious roommate, "Oh come on Cam,you're not seriously going to bed already,it's barely eight!"

"Shut up Dalton,I'm tired."

Refusing to admit defeat, Charlie sprung from his own bed into Cameron's, attempting to wrestle the poor boy from his comfortable position.

"Charlie,get off you psycho!" Cameron managed to get out, already laughter threatening to give away just how welcome his friend's childish antics were.

After a few more minutes of "fooling around" as Charlie insisted on calling it (mostly because of how profusely it made Cameron blush),the two boys lay breathless beside each other,trying desperately to think of something else to do that would ward off impending boredom.

After a few moments of comfortable silence,Charlie suggested,looking expectantly towards the ginger, "Wanna go to the cave?"

With extreme,mind numbing boredom as motivation, it was inevitable that Cameron would say yes. It certainly helped that Charlie was gazing at him with those oh-so convincing doe eyes of his. Charlie Dalton and his stupid,gorgeous eyes. And his stupid,gorgeous smile,which Cameron was abso definitely not thinking about as he got up and grabbed his coat.

The two boys trudged through the woods,bickering lightly when Cameron complained of the cold that Charlie apparently couldnt feel at all,but always with an unusually friendly air between them. Before long they were sat together in the middle of the cave,sharing an apple that Cameron had managed to salvage from somewhere (a feat Dalton was of course impressed by),and trading stories of girls and parties galore. In Cameron's case, the stories of girls were few and the parties were from years long before even middle school,so Charlie did most of the talking.

After a while though,the boys came to discussing their friends,and the luck they all seemed to have in finding each other so easily. Charlie, ever the romantic,made no waste of his extensive vocabulary,tediously lamenting on all the opportunities of love he had missed and the everlasting loneliness he was doomed to,all because his dashing knight in shining armour would never come to find him and-

"Why dont *you* just find somebody?"

Charlie,still sprawled dramatically over a rock ,and mildly offended at the interruption,indignantly questioned "What do you mean?"

"What I said? You dont just have to wait around for somebody to come find you and fall madly in love. Why don't *you* just find somebody?"

He thought for a moment,taken aback by the ginger's harsh words,but eventually decided to humout him for a moment.

"And where exactly do you suggest I find him then, hm?"

Cameron shifted in his seat,not expecting to be taken seriously and certainly not prepared to be giving advice. Especially not *this* kind of advice. Especially not to *charlie*.

"Well,uh," he looked up to see the other boy looking at him expectantly,with that ever-present smirk on his face that, oddly enough,made Cameron feel a little more comfortable.

"Maybe,you could,I don't know, consider that the guy you're looking for has been here the whole time?"

"Wow Cam,Pittsie and Meeks' radio must've really gotten to you. All those love songs have turned you into a big softie." Charlie joked,grinning and nudging Cameron playfully.

Through a soft laugh,Cameron continued, "No I'm serious man,I think you're making this whole love thing way harder for yourself. I mean- and be honest with me, what's actually wrong with the guys at our school?"

"Other than the fact that about three quarters of them are raging heterosexuals?"

Laughing again,Cameron replied "yeah,other than that."

After about zero seconds of careful consideration,he had come to a conclusion, "Well,I guess nothing,but I dont know? Cameron, I don't see how this changes-"

"It *changes* things because clearly you don't anything about half the guys at our school. And you can't write off people you don't even know." At some point, Cameron had gotten up and started pacing around,but with the end of this triumphant speech,he finally sat down,a little closer to the other boy than he had been before.

Charlie looked across at Cameron and was suddenly met with a wave of fondness. Weird,how all it took was to sit and talk for a while before someone you thought you near hated,started to feel like your favorite person in the world. And,was he going completely crazy or Cameron at his most comfortable, without the fear of a teacher lurking nearby,without the stress of constantly trying to prove himself,was he... A little..... attractive??

All at once,Charlie made a decision,partly to try and prove himself wrong,but also because hey,if Richard Cameron was the surprise love of his life,what better time to figure it out than right now?

"So how,sir Richard Cameron,do you propose I get to know all these charming suitors?"

Cameron, completely in the dark about Dalton's recent epiphany,was still stubbornly trying to explain how much easier Charlie's love life could be,if only he would let it.

"Well,maybe by actually talking to them? Y'know,kind of like,What we're doing right now."

"So,what you're saying is,*you* could be my knight in shining armor," he said with a smirk.

"Well,that's not what-"

"No,no it's fine,as long as we're talking about this version of you. Regular Cameron is kind of a buzzkill but Cave Cam is actually a kind of.... And I can't believe I'm saying this but,in here,like this...well. You're actually a little hot."

After this, overwhelmingly romantic confession, Charlie was certain he had completely stuffed it,and sure enough,

"Gee Charlie,thanks. Really makes me wanna ride into the sunset with you." To say Cam's ego had been hit was an understatement,but before he could make a swift exit from the cave and lock himself,alone,in his dorm for the rest of the weekend,of course Dalton kept talking.

"God,I'm sorry,that was, I have no idea why I said that. I thought I was being funny but out loud- god I'm so sorry," while he had initially been mad,seeing Charlie fucking Dalton blush (and because of *him* no less) was rather funny. And sure,a little cute. So Cameron decided to hear him out.

"Can I start over? You're not saying anything so I'm gonna start over. I,uh, I really do think you're hot. Like really hot. And not just right now,all the time,like that time we were at rowing practice and I started pushing you around and we ended up on the floor and I saw like,a single sliver of skin because your sweater had ridden up,and I couldn't stop thinking about it all day,which I thought was a little weird but then-"

"Uh,I think I get it,Charlie." Now Cameron was the one blushing.

"Uh,sorry. What I meant was,that I *do* think you're hot l-"

"As you've said"

"Yeah,yeah,but it's more than that. Like,when I realized we'd basically be spending the whole weekend alone together,I was actually sorta excited for that,even though I knew I'd just be sitting by you while you did homework the whole time,I like,wanted to do that. And tonight,I haven't talked like this with anyone who isn't Neil like,ever. What I mean is,I guess,is that,I think that uh,"

Deciding to lighten the mood,Cameron tried for a little sarcasm, "Wow,Dalton, stuttering? I must be superman or something."

"I'm trying to be romantic here Carrot top," Charlie said with a grin,

"Listen,I don't really know what I'm doing here,but I think it might be kinda nice if we tried having a little romantic weekend of our own. Just to try it. If it totally sucks we can pretend it never happened and the others don't have to know about it and-"

"Charlie."

"Yeah?"

"Relax," Cameron said with yet another laugh ,he didn't think he laughed like this since... Well,he couldn't even remember.

So with a radiant smile on his face,he said,"A romantic weekend of our own sounds amazing. Gotta warn you tho I'm not a great kisser."

"Well, lucky for you I am a great teacher," Charlie replied,with a somehow even bigger smile on his face than Cameron's,

"Why are you laughing,I *am* a great teacher!" Unfortunately for Charlie,his indignance only made Cameron laugh harder.

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"If you shut up and stop laughing,maybe you'll get to." After this was all it took to get the ginger to sober up, the look on his face pushed Charlie to make his final,but (in his opinion) most important decision of the night.It was high time he flirt with Cameron way more often (which was *very* difficult to explain to the other poets,at least the first time).

#yh i did proofread it #yh there probably r still mistakes #i was very nervous so #but yh uh #chameron #dps fic #dps chameron fic #dead poets society chameron #idk how to tag things properly if u couldnt tell from my other posts lol #anyway !! bye

38 notes · View notes

bondsmagii · 4 years ago

Note

Please do info dump about tornados

tornados have been my jam since I was about 4 years old no joke, I would just watch documentary after documentary about them and even now I love bingewatching footage of them on YouTube like yes... that’s the good shit. before I get into the bulk of it thought I want to share my all time favourite footage of a tornado, like. it’s genuinely one of the scariest videos I’ve ever seen.

youtube

this footage was filmed by Clem Schultz, showing the approach of the F4 tornado that destroyed his home. how he managed to hold his nerve as that bore down on him I have no idea, but in managing it he got some of the most incredible footage of a tornado in existence. the sound of that storm, the way all you can hear is the wind growing louder and his breathing, those incredible seconds of footage from inside the tornado... we really owe him a lot for this video. headphones are good for really getting an idea of the magnitude of this thing, but beware that it is beyond loud. (Schultz survived; unfortunately his wife Geri, who was downstairs, did not. in the face of a tornado this powerful, who survives and who doesn’t is simply down to luck.)

anyway I’ll skip straight to the more interesting stuff because the basics re: how they’re formed is pretty common knowledge and we’re here for the juicy stuff.

something I will talk about briefly just while I’m on a tangent is common knowledge to anyone who knows anything about tornados and also anyone who lives with them as a danger, but it’s something I see a lot of other people simply not knowing: the most powerful tornados (known as F5s) are deadass just. unsurvivable outside of pure luck. I’ve seen people get really bitchy about the damage done by these tornados (see what happened in Moore, OK, in 2013), going on about how people should be building things better and stronger and all that stuff, but like. F5 tornados are the strongest winds on earth. they’re stronger than a hurricane and they’re much more concentrated onto a small area. a concrete or brick building with solid foundations will be obliterated by an F5 tornado. the only way to stand a chance of surviving is if you’re in the centre of the building in a windowless room (the survivors of a school hit directly by an F5 tornado were sheltering in the windowless bathrooms in the middle of the school; even then the roof was still ripped off above them) or you’re in a deep basement with a very sturdy hatch (a door leading into the house will simply be ripped off and probably the floor with it, so it’s still very likely you will literally just be sucked out of the basement). F5s are absolutely terrifying, and no amount of structural integrity will stand up to them. build a little house out of whipped cream and then push a hand blender through it. that’s a building in an F5.

ALSO air pressure changes drastically in a tornado. as it passes over you things get really crazy, and it can and will suck you out of places you’re sheltering if it’s powerful enough. the pressure will make it feel like you’re being pressed tightly against the ground, almost like you’re being crushed; then it will make you feel weightless, and that’s when it’s trying to suck you out. if you’re in the path of a strong tornado, try to hold on to something sturdy, like a pipe that goes deep into the ground. it might not help if it’s sustained exposure, but don’t let yourself be caught out by what’s essentially a giant vacuum cleaner!! I know I’m speaking like this is an impending problem but you can never be too safe!!

and dear god never shelter under one of those road overpasses. I know it looks better than being out in the open but those things are wind tunnels. the force of the tornado will be squeezed down into a much smaller space and the windspeed will increase exponentially, so it’s all around a bad time. if you’re stuck in the path of a tornado and there’s nothing around but an overpass and your car, take your chances in any dip in the ground -- a ditch, something like that. cars and overpasses are absolute death traps. here’s footage of the aftermath of an overpass hit, showing extensive damage to cars which could have easily been thrown through the air like missiles if the tornado had been strong enough:

youtube

(timestamped, footage is at 2:52 if for some reason it doesn’t work.)

here’s a video of what happens to the windspeeds of a much smaller tornado in an overpass:

youtube

this video is probably responsible for a lot of people making this mistake. the film crew got away with it because the tornado did not pass directly overhead like they claimed. it went just behind them (to the left of the camera when they’re under the bridge) and the wind coming through was the outer funnel. had it been a direct hit, and certainly if it had been a bigger tornado, these guys would have been thrown around like stuffed toys in a washing machine.

speaking of which: did you know tornados can have arms? this is actually a relatively new piece of information, and it unfortunately came at a terrible cost. I’m sure everyone is aware of the fact that stormchasers exist, but contrary to popular belief they’re not actually a bunch of reckless adrenaline junkies. proper stormchasers are usually trained meteorologists, and until the incident I’m referring to, no stormchasers had ever lost their lives while stormchasing. not bad, when you remember that these guys are driving towards the tornado when everyone else is running away. stormchasers are equipped with a lot of high-tech radar equipment, though, so they can trace the tornado’s exact movements even in heavy rain, so they’re able to stay out of the way. this is obviously not something you should try and do as an amateur.

anyway, this is to establish the fact that stormchasing is surprisingly safe, and tornados were believed to be pretty well understood when this incident went down. we know how they’re formed, we know their general behaviour, we can track them easily and tell people to get out of the way with decent warning. they’re still dangerous and they can still occur suddenly, but up until this incident nobody thought they had any new tricks up their sleeves. and then one tornado in particular did something that nobody had ever seen before, and it cost several stormchasers their lives.

tornados can change size and speed pretty rapidly, and the 2013 El Reno tornado was doing this a fair bit. however, it also had what’s known as subvortexes, which is basically like smaller vortexes coming off of the main vortex (what we would call the “funnel”). the vortex that you can see with the naked eye is actually only a small part of the whole thing -- we only see it because it’s sucking up dust and dirt, making it visible. all around it, though, is a wider rotating vortex of air, and we can see this by the effect it as on structures, rain, etc. out in the open, though, like with the El Reno tornado? it’s much more difficult to see. it can also get really, really big. within this area, subvortexes were forming, which are essentially like mini tornados that you might not necessarily be able to see. the stormchasers in question -- Tim Samaras, his son Paul, and his colleague Carl Young -- should have been far enough away from the main vortex to be able to make a successful escape, but one of these subvortexes just... reached out and threw the car off the road, essentially. I mean, the odds of this were astronomical, and this had never happened before. and like, look at this:

that’s the path of the tornado’s “arm”. TWISTEX is the name of the stormchaser team -- as you can see, they should have been safely out of the way. the subvortex literally just flicked itself out and landed a direct hit, and then carried on its way in less than a minute. this is just... unprecedented. this is one of those tragic situations where there was nothing these people could have done, at all. it’s such a terrible loss, particularly to the field of stormchasing -- Tim Samaras was an accomplished engineer who pioneered many different tactics and pieces of tech for stormchasing, and he was a genius in the field. his work on the Discovery Channel’s show Storm Chasers got countless people interested in the field, and in fact during a eulogy to him somebody even mentioned the fact that most of the young people in the room at that moment were probably there because of him. it was just awful, but there was absolutely no way they could have predicted this. a tornado changing size, speed, and direction all in one go, and then whipping out subvortexes? this is like, the absolute worst case scenario here.

finally, to lighten things up a little: absolutely obsessed with the team of stormchasers who keep trying to modify their vehicle so it can withstand a direct hit, and then driving it around on the job to test out the mods with often disastrous consequences. yes, I said that stormchasers are all professionals, and they are, but they are also all scientists, which means they’re approximately as stupid as they are smart. this is one of their inventions:

like? I’m losing my mind here. the car is called Tiv. on the way to the storm in question they stopped at a gas station to weld more iron to it. as they drove it out they referred to it as “letting loose the dogs of war”. it has hooks that can be deployed to dig into the ground. when the tornado passed close to them one of them yelled “DEPLOY CLAWS!! DEPLOY CLAWS!!” claws were deployed and the tornado absolutely annihilated them. yote them right off the road and rolled the car. everyone was fine and they brought the car in for repairs and then out to try again. God Bless Our Troops.

anyway if you’re still here congratulations I am honestly impressed.

#DAMN this got long #like #long post #and i MEAN long post #three videos a diagram and a picture i'll only title 'hubris' later #even if you don't read all this PLEASE read the last two paragraphs #the one above and below the picture of the car #i need more people to know about these people like i'm still howling #tornados #anon #asks

125 notes · View notes

pixiealtaira · 3 years ago

Text

And the Thunder Rolls

This is the first of my Glee Summer Bang fics...but I decided it was too gloomy.

It is a Klaine Break-Up Fic and this Not Klaine or Blaine friendly.

Takes place right after the end of Junior Year:

The crash of thunder shook the house. Kurt looked out to the pouring rain. It was nearly pushed horizontal by the wind. “Very Blustery, my ass. Hurricane force winds would have been a better description,” Kurt muttered as he watched chaos out the window. Kurt still felt that being out in the storm would be preferable than where he was currently at, that the chaos outside would be safer and somehow 'less' than the chaos inside his being as he listened to Blaine. Lightening ripped through the sky, near enough for Kurt to just see the light of the flash and not a actual bolt and for the thunder to roll right after it and actually shake the house. He wondered if Finn knew he had a flashlight in his room. Rachel didn't like power outages. Kurt leaned closer to the window to see if he could see where it might have landed.

“Kurt, I don't think you are listening to me.” Blaine whined behind him. “Do I need to go get Finn and Rachel and have them listen to this as well? I am setting out guidelines for how I want our summer to be and you just aren't really paying attention to me. Stop looking out the window and look at me, the boyfriend. I am beginning to think you don't actually love me at all. You are not at all focused where you need to be focused.” “Blaine, I love you. I told you that just a few days ago. And yes, you are my boyfriend. But that doesn't give you permission to dictate my summer.” Light brightened the whole room again and thunder shook the house and Kurt wished it would just hit the house. Maybe stop what he suspected would be a defining moment to everything for the whole of the rest of his life. Blaine huffed. “I'm not dictating your summer. I'm just letting you know how things need to be so we can see each other more often during the summer. My dad got me this job, you know, and it is Important that I am my best during the time I am working and performing. Important people might be watching, you know. Nila said that Jason, one of the boys who left the year before I could perform at all, got scouted and got a modeling job and a job as a back-up singer for a band. That could be me this year, but only if I'm at the top of my game. I I can only be at the top of my game when I know you are focused on me. You need to know when to keep yourself free to come see me and visit me. If you don't do this for me like I want it done, well then, I'm afraid we will just not be able to see each other at all.” “And I told you I am not going to be going to the amusement park and paying 80 to 100 bucks a day just to see you on your break periods, especially if I'm not 'allowed' to spend the rest of the time enjoying the park. You can come here on your days off or I can meet you at your place on your days off.” “You cannot go to my place. I mean...I just haven't exactly told my folks I have a boyfriend yet...so you'll have to wait for that. And my days off are all booked with family stuff or other things I need to do. If you love me, you'll come see me on the days I listed at the park. It is the only acceptable option. I just do not understand why you are having a problem with this. A good boyfriend would be perfectly willing to do this for me, I'll have you know. And it's not like I'm asking more than others who work there have. Nila's boyfriend was there three days a week last summer. Matt and Ryan both worked there, so I guess they don't really count, but it was so unfair watching those guys making out and whatnot and yet the rest of us had to just make due. Now, this year, I'VE got the boyfriend and so you need to come to the park so I can have good breaks too. You need to come on the days I listed earlier for certain and also whenever I text that the day would be a good day for you to be there. I NEED you to be there for me, Kurt. I need to be able to show the others that I'VE got a boyfriend and that he does what I ask of him. But, you also can't like hang out with anyone, or talk to anyone...I mean, you are great and all but you just don't exactly talk about the kinds of things the other kids who work at the park do and so I need you to remember that...but also you need to make sure they know you are only at the park for me...you'll need to sit off to the side of where ever I am, just smiling and making eyes at me.” Kurt closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The lightening hit again and the thunder rolled and the lights in the house flickered and Kurt heard Rachel screech from Finn's room. There had been nothing in any of Blaine's demands for summer about wanting to spend time with Kurt, himself. Just about wanting to have the boyfriend be there to be seen. And curtailing as much joy as Blaine possibly could in his demanded excursions. “Blaine. You are being unreasonable.” “I am not. I am being perfectly reasonable. Boyfriends show up to support their significant other when their significant other wants them to, in whatever manner asked. That is why people have boyfriends and girlfriends. To have them there when they want them to be there for them. To show off. And if you do things the way I told you you need to, everyone will see how devoted you are to me, and to me alone. It will do wonders for what the others think of me, you there just sitting and looking at me and not even thinking of anything other than me. But, don't try too hard. And like, don't practice making sexy faces or longing faces or anything. You don't do sexy. You do longing OK, so maybe stick to staring at me longingly. It will be cute. Then it will be perfect. I mean, Nila's boyfriend just stopped by to make out with her when lines were too long for rides he wanted to ride, he didn't focus on her only. Just think how jealous she will be when MY boyfriend just pays attention to Me in such a cute way.” “No” The flash of lightening hit close enough that even the air in the house felt charged. The thunder was nearly deafening. It wasn't loud enough to cover Blaine's scream. “What do you mean 'No'? You are my boyfriend, you can't just say no.” “I did just say No. No. I am not going the amusement park, at over 100 bucks a pop when you add travel and food, multiple days over the summer just to sit and stare at you...it is just not happening. There are many reasons why....not the least of which is I would be bored out of my mind. I don't have the time, or money, or inclination to be some sort of living statue for you to use to boost you ego in some sort of ego war with your co-workers. I have work, too, Blaine. And I NEED my paychecks that I get over the summer to be able to enjoy my school year. They pay for my clothing, any time spent shopping or out to the movies or dinner or coffee or anything else fun. I could maybe do ONE trip to the amusement park to see you...and to enjoy the park when you can't be with me and thus get my money's worth. I can not go at least twice a week every week all summer long, with a third or maybe even fourth trip to see you on demanded days at a texts notice.” “But Kurt, if you loved me...” And Kurt saw the next bolt of lightening hit. It hit a transformer on one of the street light poles the block over and half a block down. The thunder shook the house as the lights went out. Rachel screamed like Finn was stabbing her or something. Finn started screaming as well, telling her to calm down. Kurt was glad, though, because with the power out Blaine could not see the tears running down his face, with with how Kurt was standing. “I guess I don't love you then. Not if that is what you think Love requires of me. ” Kurt said, turning to look at Blaine instead of a flames spouting from the blown transformer. He could already hear the sirens of the police and fire trucks responding to it. “And if you loved ME, and not just the notion of a boyfriend, you would have never demanded any of what you have today.” “Of course I love you.” “No, you don't. Because if you did, you would know me well enough to not have come here and said any of what you have said in the last hour. You would know me well enough to know I can't afford your plan in the first place. We don't have that kind of money. You would have listened to me enough to know that I will have a full 40 hour week at the garage every week, and will have hours of work at other places as well. You would have known about other demands on my time over the summer. You would have realized I would like to be able to do things with you that I would like to do as well, like go swimming or go to play mini-golf. Or take you to the car shows with me and have you ride in the parades at the fairs with me. You would know that I don't like just sitting doing nothing for long periods of time. But you don't seem to know or care about any of that, so you must not actually love me.” “Now Kurt, stop being hysterical and silly. You know none of that is true. You might work at the garage but what do you actually do there, huh? Sweep? No one needs you there, and what else do you really have to do...that is as important or more important than me? It is just, face it, your time and my time are not equal. My folks plans are important. I need to be there and show up with acceptable company, so those periods of time are out. My work...performing is hard, Kurt and the rest of the work at the park is just as difficult. Do you even know what it is like to have to deal with parents who are upset because their kid is too small for a ride? That is so much more challenging than anything you might be doing.” “And that just proves you don't actually love me at all. Blaine, as soon as this storm calms, you need to go home. Have a great summer. Maybe if I get in touch with Jeff or Nick or anyone else from Dalton, I'll have them say Hello from me, but I won't be getting hold of you for a while. I need a clean break. And you need someone else, who can love you like you think love works.” “What are you talking about?” “I am breaking up with you. This isn't what I want from a relationship. It isn't what I need.” Kurt turned around again and stared out the window. The lightening strike was far enough away that the whole sky didn't seem to light up with it. Kurt counted a full Mississippi before he heard the thunder. Blaine was still talking to him, trying to tell him he couldn't break up with him and how mistaken Kurt was and how Kurt was purposefully being difficult and misunderstanding everything and making a big show and fuss about things. The rain was coming down more vertically again, just as hard and violently, but in a more natural angle and Kurt could tell the fire was out over where the lightening had hit. He could see a vehicle from the power company over in the area. The chaos was calming...and things seemed to be easing up. Kurt wouldn't be surprised if within the next half hour the storm had settled into an steady gentle rain. Oddly enough, he rather felt like he'd settled into an oddly calm and settled state as well. He wondered if he'd feel bad latter, if he'd feel more crushed and upset at the end of his first relationship, but for now...he felt like he was easing into a peaceful gentle state of being. Not sunshine yet, but the knowing that it could be soon.

#glee fic #Kurt Hummel

15 notes · View notes

heyheydidjaknow · 4 years ago

Text

Insert interesting AN here. It's like 2 in the morning.

Chapter 13

He finally speaks. “This isn’t going to work if you keep moving around.”

You dig your nails into your palms as he pulls another shard from your back. “I know. Still hurts.”

A pause. “I could ask Master Splinter to let you have some alcohol to numb it if you want.” His voice throughout the whole process has been incredibly soft, from since you woke up in his room until now. “The skin disinfectant is going to sting more than this.”

“I’ll drink myself to death,” you promise, half-joking in an attempt to lighten the suffocating mood. “Seeing how the past couple months have gone, I should probably just get used to pain, right?”

He pulls another piece of blood-soaked glass from your skin, placing it into a can at his side with a clink. “I really hope that doesn’t happen.” You feel him pull another portion of the skin on your back taught. “The pain thing, I mean. Not to say that I want you to drink yourself to death—”

“I get what you mean.” You try to keep an eye on him without moving your neck, not wanting to get blood on his sheets. “I’m the same way about the murdering thing.”

Silence, again.

“How’s the cockroach thing going?”

“It’s going.” He is quick if nothing else; he is already three-quarters of the way done, now at your waist. “It seemed to be working alright this morning, so it should work tonight if I’m lucky.”

You smile gently. “That’s good, then. You’re due for some good luck.”

“Of the two of us?” He leans to the side from his seat on his chair, studying your face. “I think you need it more than I do.”

You laugh. “Most teenagers boys don’t have half-naked girls on their beds because of medical reasons,” you argue. “I’d say you dealing with me is worthy of some good mojo.”

“The portal wouldn’t have been destroyed if not for you.” He leans back, pulling a particularly large piece out of your hip. “We wouldn’t even know what their ultimate plan was, what to look out for, what to expect.” He bends down, and you hear the gurgling of a liquid being poured out. “Besides,” he reasons, “it was as much my fault as yours for not thinking of the glass walls. It’s the least I could do.”

You bite down on your tongue as he starts wiping the blood off. “Shit,” you hiss, “that stings.”

A hint of excitement laces his tone. “Wanna know why?”

Your jaw relaxes as the pain subsides. “Sure,” you chuckle, strained. “Why does it hurt?”

“Well,” he starts, “this antiseptic, like most antiseptics, is comprised mainly of two compounds: ethanol, or just normal grain alcohol, and hydrogen peroxide.” He sounds like a passionate schoolteacher when he goes off about anything science-related. It is absolutely enrapturing, listening to someone so in love with their craft. “Now, ethanol activates vanilloid receptor-one, which is also activated by capsaicin, which is what makes food spicy. But the funny thing about that,” he continued, “is that, usually, the receptor is only activated by really high temperatures—the receptor is what lets you register hot things as hot.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know about medical stuff.” You wince again as he continues to clean your wounds.

“Oh, I’m just not good at applied medicine,” he chuckles nervously. “None of the serious stuff, I mean; I’d never be able to perform a proper surgery or prescribe medications without a ridiculous amount of research, but I know how to set bones and how certain chemicals react to certain receptors.”

“So, you know how it works but not how to fix it?”

“I guess so, yeah.” You hear the chair move as he gets to his feet. “I started looking into it the first night you came here, actually, since I never looked into how burns worked until…” he trails off, clears his throat. “Anyway,” he tries again, “ethanol lowers the temperature threshold to body temperature, making the cut burn. It’s also why it’s painful to drink things with a high alcohol content: your receptors register it as if you’re actually being burned.” He pushes your hair off your neck carefully. “Hydrogen peroxide acts similarly, only it activates a different receptor, known as transient receptor potential ankyrin one, and while not as much as known about it, it’s theorized that it acts similarly, resulting in you feeling pain.” Your fingernails dig into your palms again as you suck in air at the burning sensation on your neck. “But it’s important to note that antiseptics are different than disinfectants. Disinfectants are for non-organic surfaces because they contain higher concentrations of biocides than antiseptics.”

You exhale as the pain subsides. “Have you used antiseptics before now?”

“Of course.” You feel him start to place things—they feel like pads—on your back. “But I made sure to account for the differences in skin types, so unless I made a big mistake at some point, the odds of you getting chemical burns is close to zero.”

“Your confidence is very reassuring,” you grin. “By any chance, do you plan on reimbursing the cost of cutting my shirt up?”

“Nah,” he shrugs. “Was planning on having you walk out of here in the middle of fall in NYC without a shirt to make double sure you get hypothermia. As you said, we have to add to your list of injuries.”

“Of course,” you “nod’ knowingly, cracking yourself up. “No pain, no game.”

“Glad to be on the same page.” He sighs. “Honestly, I don’t have a ton of fabric to fix your shirt or jacket, so unless you have some on hand—”

Your response is immediate. “You take my shirt and fix it,” you interrupt. “If one of them is going, it sure as hell ain’t gonna be that fucking jacket.”

He blinks. Your words register after a second.

“I do not mean it in—I mean—” you immediately backpedal. “I’m not—you get what I mean, right?”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I know what you—yeah.” He is doing absolutely nothing to help the embarrassment. “I got it; i-in hindsight, I probably should have tried taking the jacket off, but I was worried I’d cut your skin up more.”

You press your face into the mattress as you feel what you assume is tape being laid along your sides. “I appreciate it.” A pause. “I don’t actually remember what happened after the main explosion happened. What…”

No response. You feel his knee sink to the bed as he reaches over, applying the adhesive on the other side of your skin quietly.

“I don’t wanna know?”

“Probably not.” His hand presses the creases flat into the curve of your back, sighing again.

You smile nervously. “I made a fool of myself, then?”

“… I wouldn’t say that.” He applied another pad to your neck. “Just—for glass rain, you were pretty calm, I’d say.”

“For glass rain,” you highlight. “Seeing as I don’t remember it, I can’t imagine it was good.”

He removes his hands. “I honestly don’t know why what happened happened,” he admits. “Just know that the guys are probably not going to give you a hard time for it.”

“Probably?” You finally turn your head to look at him.

He shrugs, gently turning your head back. “Mikey, sadly, seems to get it more than we do, so that’s two.”

You lick your lips absentmindedly. “Hey,” you shrug, “I’ll take fifty percent.”

You feel a heavy blanket drape over your back. “I still have to get the glass out of your hair, and I don’t have anything else for you to wear, so this’ll have to do. I won’t look while you adjust it.”

Your eyes strain to check. Sure enough, you watch him turn around and face the opposing wall.

You sit up, pulling the blanket around yourself to save your modesty. “You’re good. Need me to turn around?”

“Uh, yeah.”

You lift yourself, careful of your leg as you reposition yourself to have your back to him. “Thanks for this, if I haven’t said it already.”

“It’s no problem.” Fingers part your hair, tweezers now attached to your scalp. “You should see the stupid injuries I’ve had to help my brothers with.”

“I bet,” you feel yourself grinning. “I’m surprised you guys haven’t torn each other to shreds yet.”

“There have been close calls.” You hear the clinking of the can again. “Especially after getting our hands on weapons when we did. You would not believe the number of concussions we had.”

You put your hands up for dramatic effect. “Madness.”

“You laugh,” he laughs, “but figuring out our anatomy to any degree of accuracy was hard enough. I’m convinced Mikey messed Raph up with his nunchaku when we were ten.”

You let him move your head. “This I gotta hear.”

“Oh, it isn’t a really interesting story,” Donnie clarifies. “He just accidentally hit Raph in the head too hard during training and almost caved in his skull.”

You try not to laugh. “What counts as an interesting story, then?”

“Well,” he contemplates, “there was that time with the oven.”

You turn to look at him the best you can with the limited movement he allowed. “The time with the oven?”

“Wax paper catches fire if you put it in the oven.”

You nod, turning back. “Was it you or Mikey?”

“A bit of both.” Clink. Clink. “I thought wax paper implied paper made of some sort of wax, and Mikey was trying to make decorative candles. The theory,” he continues, clearly trying to make himself not sound stupid, “was that putting it in the oven would get more consistent heat throughout the wax.”

You try to hide your amusement for his sake. “I take it that didn’t pan out.”

“It did not.” He chuckled dryly, combing his fingers through your hair to feel for glass. “Splinter was so mad, I thought we wouldn’t see tomorrow.”

Your fingers clench as his hand catches. “Not so harsh,” you breathe in pain. “You’re gonna rip my hair out.”

“Oh, sorry.” He removed his hand. “I forgot it was—that’s stupid,” he edits. “I’m not used to dealing with hair is what I meant.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure him quickly. “Just try not to tug so hard.”

“I don’t think there’s any glass left anyways, so.” You hear the chair wheel away from the bed. “That probably won’t be a problem.”

You turn around properly, adjusting the blanket over your torso. “Thank you for all your help.”

His eyes flicker downward for a second before staring directly and deliberately at your face. “You’re welcome,” he nods, not moving his eyes. “You were incredibly easy to work with.”

“You made quick work of it.” Your legs cross over another, your worn sneaker matching the color of the concrete floor. “And don’t worry about my shirt; I have to go shopping, anyways.”

He blinks. “Why?”

“Well,” you reason, “My clothes are already kinda worn, and I’ve been meaning to buy leather gloves for a while, so it would give me an excuse to go look for a good pair.”

“Leather gloves?”

You nod. “I was hashing it out with Casey, and he agreed they would look badass and cover up my hand scars.”

“You know,” he suggests, poorly feigning nonchalance, “I could make you some.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I have the know-how, and I’m pretty good with that sort of thing.”

You shake your head immediately, face heating up. “After everything you’ve done for me, I can’t let you do that.”

“Sure you can.” You can practically see the gears turning as he verbally plans it out. “I’d need measurements, of course, and finding good quality leather might be a challenge, but it would allow a lot of stylistic freedom. If you gave me a sketch of what you and Mikey worked out a sketch—”

“Dude, no.” You feel like such a girl, getting flustered over something like this. “Never mind how much unnecessary work that would take—”

“It would take me an afternoon, tops.”

“—it would be way too much trouble to find all the right materials and everything!” You shake your head more vigorously. “You have enough on your plate already.”

He pauses. “What if I could give it a practical use? Like, for self-defense or something. Would you let me then?”

You blink. “Self-defense?”

“Yeah.” You feel as though you are missing something when he hurries to clarify, “You had a knife next to you when I came to pick you up. Having something more user-friendly might—not that you can’t use a knife, but you don’t have a ton of experience with them, especially using a kitchen knife against the Foot and you get what I’m saying, right?”

You hesitate, trying to understand what he said before nodding. “I guess that makes sense,” you concede. “It would be shitty to go out like a bitch after convincing myself I deserve to live so many times. That would be kinda inconvenient.”

Despite the fact he looks like you just put a knife to your throat, he nods. “Yeah,” he confirms tentatively. “Inconvenient.”

You shift the blanket under your arms, folding it so that it would stay at your chest. “Alright,” you sigh, “You convinced me. But!” You aim to accentuate this caveat, “But, not my design. If you’re going to go through all the trouble, you design it to how you think they would look cool, so you feel good about what you’re making.”

“You trust me to not make you look bad?”

“Totally.” You smile. “Looking at the Shellraiser makes me want to vomit, but it’s not from lack of style.”

He blinks. “What?”

“Exactly what I said,” you commit.

Your statement makes him take pause, but, eventually, he seems to get what you mean. “Then… thanks,” he nods. “I should probably fix your jacket first, though. Unless you want to walk around New York in the middle of the night in a blanket.”

“I’d rather not,” you admit. “I feel like that would not be my greatest move.”

He gets up. “Are you alright to be left alone? It’s alright if you aren’t,” he clarifies, “but I’d have to shift the timetable a bit if that’s the case.”

You blink, confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“No reason.” He is lying, you are sure. “Just wanted to check before I told the guys I was good to go.”

Something about that statement seems strange to you. “Wait,” you clarify, “why would you go on another mission tonight?”

He averts eye contact.

You lean forward. “How long have I been weird?”

“Not too long, I don’t think. You were out when I got there.”

You reach over, forcing him to look at you head-on. “Are you lying to me?”

He does not answer.

“Has more than a day passed?”

He shakes his head. “It’s only about seven.”

You let go, resting your face in your hands. “so, I’ve been out for, what, sixteen hours?”

“Kinda.” He fiddles with his hands nervously. “A little less, I think.”

“And how long have I been out of it?”

He takes a moment. “You were crying a lot when you woke up,” he concedes. “At about two in the afternoon. I think you cried yourself out, because when I came to check on you—I thought maybe water would help— you were out.”

“Wonderful.” You look up at him. “And was it loud?”

“Not really.” He looks as though he was being interrogated. “I wouldn’t have come, but I left something in here that I needed.” His voice is back to being soft and calm. “You were mumbling about your hands a lot. I actually tied you up,” he chuckles nervously, “because you were moving around so much and getting the shards farther into your back.”

You sigh, something in your stomach sinking. “Probably not a terrible move. Then what?”

“When you started getting normal again,” he continues, “I untied you and got you to stop moving when I started taking the glass out, and I’m guessing you remember the rest.”

You do not say anything.

He stares intently at a corner. “I know this might come off as rude,” he starts carefully, “and I don’t mean to be rude…”

“Spit it out,” you gesture. “Let’s just… what’s up?”

“I honestly do not know enough about this sort of thing to help you.” He looks back at you. “I wish I did, really, but I don’t. I don’t know how you’re wired, mentally, and it’s really not an area I can help you with.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“But I do know,” he continues, “it has to be hard, trying to find help, given the circumstances, especially after everything that’s happened.”

“Please,” you almost beg, “just get to the point.”

“I think it would be a good idea to start spending more time with Master Splinter.” He looks down at his hands. “I think, given that he knows more about this sort of thing than I do, it would be good for you.”

“So, you’re prescribing therapy?”

“I’m not saying you’re crazy—”

“That’s not what I asked.”

The silence is choking you.

“I don’t know if you have a disorder,” he sighs. “Again, not my area of expertise.” He tries to phrase what he means right, and the next few sentences come out slow and deliberate. “All I know is that the people you’ve known your whole life aren’t around anymore, and you’re having really bad nightmares, and that you freeze up when you get really scared. I don’t want you to suffer on our account.”

You stare down at your feet.

“If not because you’re worried about it,” he tries at a different angle, “would you do it as payment for the gloves? That way, it’s not a handout.”

You smile at that. “Hand out.”

It takes a second. “Pun not intended,” he sighs. “I kinda wish it was, now.”

You look up. “I’ll talk to him while you guys are gone on your mission tonight.”

“Thank you,” he breathes. “I appreciate it, really.”

You smile properly. “Hey,” you say, adjusting the blanket. “You take glass shards out of my back and I scratch yours, or something like that.”

He chuckles. “I should probably go let the guys know,” he gets to his feet. “If you want,” he offers, “you can come with.”

“I’ll take a raincheck.” You get up after him, vision blacking out for a moment as you grab the wall for support. “But I can help you grab all your stuff to move out, if you need.”

His eyes go wide. “You don’t have clothes,” he reminds you.

You almost roll your eyes at this particular concern. “Covers more than a bathing suit,” you reason. “I’ll be careful about making sure it doesn’t slip, I promise.”

“But what if it does?”

“Then they should take a picture of the only pair of tits they’ll ever see in person.” You start to hobble towards the door. “I’ve dealt with worse wardrobe malfunctions. I’ll be fine, really.”

“Your flippancy is incredibly concerning.”

You try not to laugh. You look back at him, grin. “Concerning? Me?” You bring a hand to your chest. “I’m offended, sir. Besides,” You giggle, “I need to have a chat with your brothers if that episode is today.”

The look on his face immediately validates your decision. “Could you run that by me again?”

You wrap an arm around his shoulders, hand traveling across the open air as if to reveal your statement. “Cockroach. Terminator.”

“Okay, I’m going to need you to give me more explanation again.”

A sharp grin spreads across your features. “Imagine this,” you explain smoothly. “A giant cockroach—“

“Hate it.”

“— that is also a cyborg—“

“Hating it more.”

“— complete with near invincibility—“

“Sounds like my worst nightmare.”

“— with saws.”

“And it is.” Raphael removes your arm from his shoulders. “I’m sold. No more of that.”

“So,” you confirm, leaning back against the wall, “what is everyone not going to do?”

“I dunno,” Mikey admits easily. “I was too busy watching the horror settle on my brother’s face.”

“I’m not horrified—” he protests.

“You are.”

“Am not!”

“Am too!”

“As a neutral bystander,” Leo pipes up, trying not to openly laugh, “yes, you are.”

You keep your eyes focused on Raphael and not the car. “Look,” you cut in, “are you gonna let him do his job or nah?”

“I’m not promi—“

“The hell you ain’t” He shot a furious look at his younger brother. “You best not breathe on Donnie before the roach is back in the car and as far away from that fuckin’ ooze as possible!”

“Reassuring,” you nod. “Good.”

“If you’re so worried about Donnie messing up,” Leo suggests, “why don’t you use the remote control? You’ve watched him work with it before, right?”

You scoff. “I’d rather chop off my hands with a dull knife than get in the death mobile.”

The other two brothers antagonize each other. “It’s not that bad.”

“Isn’t it, though?” You cross your arms, a sick feeling sinking into your stomach at the thought. “Never mind the fact the lead engineer is a teenage boy, or that it’s made of the finest trash, but it’s also a moving, mechanical vehicle driven by another— and I mean this with the utmost respect— rowdy hormonal teenager.”

“Hey,” he protests, “that’s not true.”

“Karai.”

His face heats up. “It was a mistake that I’ve already owned up to.”

You put your hands up. “Look, man,” you clarify, smiling as the crisis is thoroughly averted, “I don’t blame you. Karai isn’t exactly a dime a dozen, and we can all agree she is an extremely formidable fighter who can thoroughly kick your ass.”

Donnie is getting a run for his money with this blush. “What does— she cannot,” he stammers, “and even if she could—“

“Oh, do not even,” you tease. “We all know that her being a formidable opponent who knows every weapon in her arsenal like the back of her hand and uses them well has something to do with why you like her so much. Raph’s the same way.”

Speak of the devil. “What’d you say?”

“You have a thing for strong women who can probably kick your ass.”

He seems to consider this for a minute. “I’ll get back to you on that.”

“Cool. Anyways.” You turn your attention back to Leo. “The point is, as someone who is also into people who can kick my ass— literally or academically— I get the appeal. Also,” you add, grinning like a moron, “her eyeliner game is on point, which doesn’t hurt.”

He blinks. “Do you like Karai?”

“Absolutely. One hundred and ten percent.” You shrug. “She’s badass.”

“More so than Donnie?”

“Are you guys ever going to get in or are you guys just going to stand out there all night?” Donnie pokes his head out of the vehicle. “We’re losing darkness.”

'Saved by the bell.' “Point is,” you say quickly, “I don’t want in that thing. Couldn’t pay me.”

“Leo! Hurry up!”

“Comin’!” He climbs into the Shellraiser, wheels spinning as the team drove off and out of the lair.

You close your eyes.

You do not want to go to Hamato Yoshi for therapy. You will bet money it does not go well.

‘You promised, though. Might as well have, anyways. Did you promise?’

Your morals and ideologies completely clash.

‘Ninjas aren’t all rendered insane. They have to be doing something right, in theory.’

You use the wall for support, already knowing the walk home is going to suck as you limp towards the dojo.

Table of Contents

Chapter 12

Chapter 14

36 notes · View notes

darkheart-brightsmile · 3 years ago

Text

The Eye of The Storm

This was meant to be a drabble and y'know, I got carried away so I introduce part one of my Barson mini-series. Using a prompt from my beautiful Barson Babes on Twitter where Olivia ends up wearing Rafael's clothes.

WC: 2927

Warnings: Mentions of the William Lewis story arc but nothing explicit. Hurt/comfort, mild angst.

Happy reading peeps.

***

He looked up suddenly at the sound of his office door slamming open violently.

“’Liv?”

“There’s a thunderstorm going on outside if you didn’t already know.” she snapped.

Rafael took a second to take in her appearance, she was soaked through to the skin. Her hair was wild and untamed around her shoulders, wisps clinging to her face. Her suit pants were stuck to her legs (he tried not to notice their pleasing shape but failed), her blouse was clinging to her breasts and stomach and her jacket was hanging over her arm, dripping all over his office floor. Despite the fact she looked uncomfortable, cold, and bewildered she still looked as beautiful as she ever did.

“And you decided to take a stroll in it?”

“Not initially.” she smirked, “I was halfway over here when the heavens opened, and I decided to run for it.”

“And the rain clearly beat you.”

“Indeed.” she laughed.

“Well first, you need coffee. Secondly you need to change out of those clothes. You’re not going to get warm and dry if you stay in those.” he gave her a pointed look, spinning on his heel to retrieve a fresh jug of coffee from the machine he kept in his office and pouring them both a cup.

“Oh yes, let me just pull my emergency change of clothes from my bag.” she replied grumpily, taking her cup from him, and gripping it tightly to warm her numb hands.

“I have something you can wear if you want.” he replied, moving behind his desk to the cabinet in the corner and opening the door. He crouched down, obviously looking for something. She watched him curiously wondering what an earth he was going to whip out when she heard an ‘aha’ and a split-second later noticed his grinning face and what looked to be a gym bag held out in one hand.

“I doubt you’d treat your suits like that so what’s in the bag, Counsellor?”

“Gym kit, there’s sweatpants, a t-shirt, I think a hoody and maybe some clean socks?” he replied, looking pleased with himself at being able to save the day.

“I can’t wear your clothes, Rafael.” she replied, frowning, and shaking her head.

“Why on earth not?” he asked aghast, surely, she just wanted to be dry and warm was his first thought.

“You seriously don’t mind?” she replied quietly, looking up to watch his face carefully, knowing immediately if his offer was truly sincere.

“I really don’t. You’re soaking wet and starting to ruin my carpet.” he replied with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood and noted her slight smile at his remark. “At least change into these for now, we can dry your stuff the best we can until the rain stops and you can get home.”

She nodded slowly. “I think that’s a half decent idea. What I mean is, thank you. Where can I, uh, you know?”

“Oh. Yeah, in here. I’ll step out and guard the door.” he cleared his throat and avoided looking at her again, that blouse really was rather transparent when wet, he noted.

Olivia blushed as Rafael moved to hand her the bag, now acutely aware how her wet clothes were clinging to her curves and how, bizarre, it would feel to be wearing his clothes instead. They were friends, close friends, but wearing Rafael’s clothes? She shook that thought off as the door closed behind him and she set about changing.

She knew he wouldn’t barge in; she knew she was in relative privacy, but it didn’t stop her constantly glancing to the door and window (he had closed the blinds before he left) expecting someone to come bursting in or peeking through the glass.

Moving behind his desk felt like the safest option so tugging her boots and socks off first, she unzipped his bag to find sweatpants with a tie waist and breathed a sigh of relief that at least she could make them fit decently.

She stripped off her pants, wincing as the damp fabric now freezing cold, slithered down her legs, her underwear was wet too but that was staying firmly put – one step too far she thought.

Sweatpants on and adjusted at the waist she started unbuttoning her blouse, struggling to peel it from her arms, the rain having saturated the entire garment. She hung it carefully over his desk chair, before yanking off her tank top and placing that over the top. She rummaged around in the bag, finding a plain white t-shirt, and pulled that on quickly, if only to avoid standing in his office in only her bra any longer.

The t-shirt was faded and well-loved and even though she knew it was freshly laundered, it still smelled of him.She breathed it in for a second before pulling the Harvard hoody over her head. She fell back into his desk chair with the socks in hand, when she heard a knock on the door, her head shooting up.

“’Liv? You decent?”

“Yeah! Yeah, come in!” she called out, watching as the door opened and his head hesitantly peeking around, as if he was still worried, she was half naked.

“There you go! You look much better.”

“God, I feel better already.” she sighed, tugging one sock on then the other, “you really are a lifesaver, Rafael.”

“My pleasure.” he replied smoothly, shutting the door, and coming further into the room. “Even if I don’t get to the gym often enough, the clothes have served their purpose today.” he laughed.

She picked up her mug of coffee, waving it in his direction. “Cheers to your clothes saving my ass.”

He laughed whole heartedly at that, picking up his own coffee and taking a sip, trying to steady himself at the sight of her in his clothes – of course she made them look good. The woman could wear a trash bag and look sexy. He smiled gently coming around to perch on the corner of her desk.

“We should hang those up to dry.” he pointed at her things flung across the back of his chair and swallowed deeply at the thought that only moments ago she had been stripping them off.

She stood up to gather her things and he moved past her to retrieve a coat hanger from the same cabinet.

“Really?” she laughed seeing him holding it out to her.

“Like you said, my suits need tender love and care, I keep spares here just in case and always have a spare hanger if I have to send something out to the dry cleaners before I go home.”

“If you send your suit out what do you wear home?” she asked innocently.

His eyes raked over her body, and he gave her a pointed look.

“Oh right.” she laughed, suddenly feeling rather self-conscious.

“That’s when I go to the gym.” he laughed, “if I’m already dressed for it, I’m more likely to actually go.”

“Very savvy.” she laughed in response, manoeuvring her tank top and blouse onto the hanger.

He took it from her, before holding out his other hand for the pants which she frowned out but passed over. She watched him as he crossed the room and opened a small cupboard, she had assumed was storage. He leant forward hanging the hanger up on a rail in the top and laying the pants over what looked like a pipe running through and upwards into the ceiling.

“Dare I ask?” she chuckled.

“The heating pipes for the floor above cut through here, so I basically have a drying cupboard at my disposal. An hour or so and your clothes will be toasty and dry. Very handy for when I’ve been caught in the occasional downpour coming from court too.” he chuckled, shutting the door and refilling his coffee mug.

“I always thought that was just storage.” she replied incredulously.

“The best kept secret about this office.” he smiled, taking a seat on his couch, “Don’t tell anyone else otherwise I’ll be forced to share.”

“You shared the secret with me, not to mention your clothes – I won’t tell anyone, cross my heart.” she replied gently, still grateful that he had come to her rescue.

“You’re not just anyone, ‘Liv.” he said smoothly, shaking his head ever so slightly.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” she smiled, blushing again under his intense gaze, something about the look he was giving her turning her insides to jelly.

“It was intended as one.” he murmured softly, patting the space on the couch next to him, hoping that she would join him for a little while. His office always feeling that much brighter when she was in it.

She sighed when she sank into the couch, resting her head back and closing her eyes for a second, and he watched her closely, relishing in the tranquillity of them sitting side by side, not a word uttered between them, just savouring the company.

“Feel better?” he whispered, almost fearful of disturbing her meditative state.

“Mmmm.” she hummed, “not quite dry but much better, thank you.”

“How are you still wet?” he asked, not having thought his question through properly.

She blushed heavily before replying. “Well, I wasn’t taking my underwear off too, Rafael.”

He choked on his coffee, and she covered her mouth to stifle her laughter as he spluttered and used a handkerchief to dab at his shirt and face.

“Sorry.” she said, tilting her head to watch him as he settled back into the couch and started sipping what was left of his now lukewarm beverage.

“No, it’s my fault, shouldn’t have asked. Besides, it’s not like I’ve got anything suitable for you to wear instead.” he smirked.

“I would hope not.” she laughed. “If I had found a bra and women’s underwear in your gym bag there would be some serious questions.”

“I can safely say, in my office and my apartment, there’s not a single item fitting that description.” he knew he didn’t need to add that in about his apartment, but something made him want to tell her, albeit, indirectly, that he wasn’t seeing anyone.

“Really?” she asked, blushing again, and looking down at her feet curled up underneath her knees.

“Yep.” he nodded.

“Okay.” she flashed him the most brilliant smile, before sipping her coffee, her eyes fixed on anything except his face, and he was secretly thrilled that she was so happy he was obviously single. It made his heart leap ever so slightly, just enough to be hopeful.

“Okay then.” he grinned back. Well, that was something.

The rain was still pounding against the windows, the noise echoing through his office as they sat comfortably together on the couch, sipping the last dregs of their coffee. Rafael knew he should be getting back to his work but somehow, he couldn’t find it in him to move away from her.

Olivia for the most part was content thinking her own thoughts, the swell of the storm was ironically relaxing, she actually loved the rain, the smell of the air afterwards, the hypnotic noise as the drops pelted the windows at a steady pace – getting caught in it, not so much, but warm and dry she found herself almost ready to drift off to sleep.

“Hey, you still with me?” he asked quietly, his voice floating across her consciousness. God, she loved his voice.

“Just about.” she groaned, tucking her head further into the cushions of his couch, keeping her eyes closed.

“This couch is surprisingly comfortable to sleep on.” he replied.

“You mean to say the great Rafael Barba occasionally naps whilst at work?” she teased, opening one eye to peer at him and seeing him smirk at her question.

“More like collapsed in exhaustion and woken up the next morning.” he chuckled.

“You really are committed to your work aren’t you!” she laughed.

“I can count on one hand the number of times it’s happened, but it’s only been when your squad has been in crisis.”

“That’s strangely comforting. When was the last time?” she asked quietly, now curious what would constitute him needing to kip in his office rather than trudge home.

He cleared his throat and glanced at her quickly before he spoke. “Uh, William Lewis.”

“Oh.” She replied quietly, desperately pushing those memories back down to the dark depths they were surfacing from, the gun, Russian roulette, having to hold the trigger to her temple, his eyes burning into hers, then the blood after he pulled the trigger – no. She gritted her teeth and swallowed back the tears. She would not let him ruin her day. She spent too much time focussing on staying calm and rational, he would not be allowed to ruin this evening for her.

“I’m sorry, ‘Liv, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t. It happened, there’s nothing either of us can do about that. And he’s dead. Living with the memories is the hardest part but that’s why I have a good therapist.” she finished with a small smile and shrug, but he could feel the mixed emotions and tension radiating from her body.

He tentatively stretched out his hand to hold hers that was tugging at the knees of his sweatpants, clasping his fingers in his warm palm. She sighed again, looking up him slowly from under her eyelashes and he was heartbroken to see tears prickling in the corner of hers.

“You amaze me sometimes, Olivia.”

She sniffed and swiped at her eyes. “How?” she chuckled.

“Because despite the horrors you’ve seen and experienced, the pure terror you’ve seen in your life, you keep going, you’ve never given up. And I don’t know how many people that would be able to do that in your position. They would lock themselves away and let it tear them apart from the inside, and you never have done. And that is incredible, Olivia. You are incredible.”

It was the most heartfelt thing he had ever said to her, and her heart thumped wildly in her chest as he smiled gently at her and squeezed her hand tighter.

“I thought you didn’t want me to cry.” she choked out, the tears now falling down her face at his passionate speech and he shrugged and looked sheepish.

“Depends on whether they’re happy tears or sad tears.” he smiled, handing her his handkerchief.

“They’re ‘that was a lovely thing to say’ tears.” she laughed through her sobs as she dabbed at her eyes and wiped her nose. She thought she looked awful now, her mascara was probably running down her face and her eyes were sure to be puffy and red. He still thought she looked as beautiful as ever.

She moved onto her knees and suddenly without warning threw herself around his neck and squeezed him into a huge hug. He was shocked for a second before he realised, she was obviously okay with him touching her, so his arms came around her waist and he tucked her closer into his body, her face curled into his neck.

“Thank you.” she whispered into his skin, and he felt another tingle run down his back. He breathed in deeply, surrounding himself with her scent, something flowery, and subtle but so alluring.

“You’re welcome.” he murmured into her neck, pulling back to press a delicate kiss to her temple as she slid to curl into his side for a few more moments.

“The rain’s stopped.” he murmured into her hair as she tucked herself closer, her arms wrapped around herself, and his one arm around her shoulders, holding her into his body.

Later, once she had changed clothes again, he was struck but just how special she really was. She never let anyone see her like that, he knew that well enough – she projected calm, certainty and control. So, the fact she had broken down in tears and thrown herself into his arms was a sign that their friendship was one that she valued, that she embraced, that really meant something to her. He was touched by that.

He had stepped out for her to change and returned when she had said it was safe to do so. She had put her own pants and shoes back on but had kept his socks on, his t-shirt and hoody on at his insistence that it was warmer, and she could return them whenever she liked. She folded up her own things carefully and tucked them into his gym bag which she had decided she was going to take with her. Gathering up her bag and phone.

“Well, thank you for my coffee, and the loan of your clothes, and the pep talk.” she smiled, as she reached his door and he grabbed the handle, to keep it open for her.

“I would never leave a damsel in distress.” he smirked.

“So, what does that make you? Prince Charming?”

“Charming is one thing I can definitely be.” he murmured quietly, as if he was letting her in on a secret. He tilted his head slightly just enough to kiss her cheek and let his lips graze her skin as he pulled away. “Goodnight, ‘Liv.”

She squeezed his hand one last time. “Night, Rafa.”

She could feel his eyes on her back all the way to the elevator, but she refused to turn around. If she turned around, she wasn’t sure what would have happened, what she would have done, and that thought stayed with her all night and trailed into her dreams.

***

@igreg04 @mhargitay64 @tinyboxxtink @lauchasstuff @nippow @chasingeverybreakingwave @i-run-with-scissors39 @barsonlover2021 @michael-rooker @alwaysachorusgirl @storiesofsvu @chunex @klk1618 @simpforbarba @dubuforeveralone @zizzlekwum @tinyboxxtink@human––tragedy @a-queen-of-chaos @raulesparza4eva @thatesqcrush

#barson fanfic #barson fanfiction #Rafael Barba fanfiction #Olivia Benson fanfiction #svu fanfic #svu fanfiction #barson drabble #barson fic #svu drabble #svu mini series #Rafael barba #Olivia benson

20 notes · View notes