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noir0neko · 4 years ago

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satan on the strip | m

“But parties of two are my favorite.”

rating: very mature

paring: jungkook x reader

includes: lots of sexual tension, also sex, praise!kink, pet names, magic, drinking, other nefarious behavior, a lot of sexual thoughts, maybe some biting and maybe some air play and begging and cursing and just,,, it’s mature content folks, proceed with caution

word count: 3.5k

a/n: Hi!!! It has been a hOT minute since I was here. I was just toasting some bagels this morning when this idea popped into my head and I knew I had to write it. Shoutout to bagels for giving me inspo, even though bagels are not in this fic in any way. If you would like to read along to what I was listening to when I wrote, here is the little playlist: “Miracle” by CHVRCHES. “Love on the Brain” by Rihanna, “Hypnotic” by Zella Day and “Locked Out of Heaven” by Bruno Mars. ENJOY! I am super happy to post something again!

“Come on!” Your friends try to flag you over to the dance floor from your very comfortable seat at the bar. You hold up your drink as an excuse and take a sip, letting the bitter liquid burn a path down your throat. They scoff and give you a dirty look, but continue dancing, throwing themselves around wildly to the music.

It’s the night of one of your best friend’s bachelorette parties, and of course, she wanted to have it in Las Vegas. And also of course, your ex boyfriend is the best man for her soon to be husband. And triple of course, they decided to crash the bachelorette party and you have now been watching another random girl grind on your ex for the past twenty minutes.

You take another drink, sighing heavily before turning back around to the bar.

“Long night already?” A voice says from behind you, deep and low.

You swing your head to the side, getting an eyeful of the very tall and very handsome man who has taken a seat at the bar. His hair is dark and straight, waving lightly over his forehead. His skin is pale, clear, and smooth, with eyes so bottomless and deep they almost look black. He is wearing a gray v-neck shirt with dark wash jeans that have rips in the knees, exposing more of his pale skin and you can’t help but notice he has bright red shoes on.

“I guess,” You shrug, taking another sip of your drink and moving it to the other side of your body. Just to be safe.

“I’ll take that it's going to be an even longer one, if your friends are all of the bachelorette girls.” He smiles with his straight teeth and full mouth. “Unless you just wanted to match with a bunch of random strangers for no reason.”

You sigh again, fingering the stupid sparkly sash around your dress with an absent finger. Your friends had insisted on wearing little black dresses and pairing them with ridiculously bright and glittering sashes that say different things. Luckily, yours is one of the more tame sayings, with “Wild Princess” printed on it in big cursive letters. You feel anything but wild. All you want to do is leave and crawl into bed with a book and sleep. Or maybe cry and try not to replay the image of your ex dancing with another girl and not giving a damn about you over and over again.

“I wish I was randomly matching,” You take another drink. “Sometimes a party of one is better than anything else.”

The mysterious stranger gives you a mischievous smile. “Parties of one are great. But parties of two are my favorite. Anything above that is just a crowd.”

You laugh despite myself, nodding along in agreement. Deciding to not sit and wallow all night, you place your hand in the space between you and introduce yourself. He takes your hand and electric currents run up your arms, pushing a shiver down your spine.

“I’m Jungkook.” He says, smiling again.

With his arm out, you can see the beginning of a tattoo curling around his bicep and under the sleeve of his shirt. Your eyes follow it, trying to decipher its long, coiling shape before he pulls back. His eyes seem alive and glowing, their almond shape crinkling in the corners as he looks at you.

You clear your throat. “What brings you here?”

“Oh you know,” he says vaguely, gesturing for the bartender. “Work.”

“This hardly seems like work,” you quirk an eyebrow.

“Semantics,” Jungkook chuckles. “I am in the entertainment business.”

He orders his drink, a clean bourbon, and then turns back to you, a secretive smile on his face. It’s like he can sense what you are going to say before it comes out of your mouth. “Movies?” You can totally imagine him in an action film.

He shakes his head.

“Television?” You guess.

He shakes his head again, thanking the bartender as he slides a drink along the counter.

“Music?” You try again.

“You’re getting warmer,” he leans in closer and you can smell the alcohol and musky scent of him. It’s almost more intoxicating than your drink. “Magic.”

“Magic?” You repeat, stupefied.

“Yes,” he sits back and your head clears. “Magic.”

“Like rabbits out of hats and throwing knives at spinning people?”

He seems to think for a second, as if actually considering your joke as a statement. “A bit more sophisticated than that, but yes. That’s the idea.”

You narrow your eyes at him, turning to face your body towards his. “Show me.”

“I don’t think you’re ready for the kind of magic I have, Princess.” He says slyly, eyes dipping to your sash again. You scoff, taking the sash off and placing it on the bar. His grin grows and he leans back into you.

You swear you can feel electricity sizzling in the space between you two, desperate to follow the high he’s bringing. “Show me,” you say again, a challenge in your voice.

“Alright,” his voice is so low you don’t know how you can hear him over the deafening music and yelling, but it’s as if there is no one else but you and him. “All of your friends are now wishing that they were in your place, when they were making fun of you for sitting here before. You wish you didn’t have to be here, but you are a supportive friend and know how much it would hurt if you left early. Your boyfriend over there is thinking about punching me and wants to know who I am and why you stopped being jealous to pay attention to me.”

You blanch, trying to discreetly look to the side to see the dance floor. You can see all of your friends out there, stealing glances your way in between steps and body rolls. You can see two of them giggling and whispering, wagging their eyebrows at you as they catch your glance. Then you see your ex, no longer with the woman from before, but making his way over from across the floor, his jaw set and eyes blazing.

His angry face.

Your stomach flips, but there is some smug satisfaction in his reaction as you turn back to Jungkook. He seems completely unaffected by your oncoming ex, but is staring directly at you. You think his eyes could burn you from the inside out if you let them.

“What do you want to do?” He asks, his word ricocheting deep inside of you.

“I want to leave,” you say, the words leaving your mouth before your brain can catch up. “Can we go?”

“Of course we can, Princess.” Jungkook smiles, standing up and offering you his arm.

You gather your things and join him, careful to not meet any of your friend’s eyes as you let Jungkook walk you towards the door. Hadn’t they been pushing you to hook up all weekend? Hadn’t they been throwing you at guys and giving guys your number since the party started? And even more because of the presence of your ex?

The thought of him makes you grin and you look back to find him staring after you, clenching and unclenching his fists in agitation. Your smile widens and you can’t help but wave at him as you leave. Fuck him.

You see your friends waving and jumping up and down excitedly, practically bouncing with happiness at the new development in your boring life. Jungkook’s arm is warm and hard around yours, static and heat pooling in the best parts of you. Close up, you can see the black lines and dots of his tattoo, but still can’t make out what it is. Your brain begins to question what you’re doing. This man is a complete stranger. And you’re in Las Vegas walking out of a bar with him. Every single horror film and terrible thing to happen to a woman always starts out this way. You start to rethink your choice, opening your mouth to tell him you’re going back.

“Spend an hour with me,” Jungkook says, snagging your attention and the words from your lips. The night air is hot still, the street loud and bustling with people walking to and fro.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows.

“One hour,” he repeats. “Spend one hour with me. If you want to go back after that, I’ll bring you.”

“One hour?” You sound like a broken record.

One hour. What can happen in one hour in one of the most crowded places in the United States? You both can just walk around, maybe get some food. One hour only has sixty minutes, after all and on the strip, that time would go by impossibly fast. Not to mention, the last thing you realistically want to do is walk the strip alone or go back into the bar without Jungkook and with your tail between your legs. You know your ex would have a field day and your friends would be so pitiful. Maybe it is about time to get wild.

“One hour.” You say definitively. A statement this time.

Jungkook leans in and you smell him again, musky and hot. “Then, I am determined to make it the best hour of your life.”

His words bring fierce shivers down your spine. What have you gotten yourself into?

Before you know it, your predictions seem to come true. A half hour passes without notice as you and Jungkook walk in and out of hotels, restaurants and bars. Jungkook asks you about your life, your hobbies, and does little magic tricks for you along the way. Pulling pennies from behind your ears and predicting cards before the dealer draws them. You’re laughing and smiling and living and noticing how beautiful he is when he smiles. How dark his eyes are and how you want to stare into them forever. How perfectly his eyebrows frame his face and how his cheekbones and jaw make him seem carved out of marble.

“Have you ever thought about playing?” You ask him after you exit Caesar’s Palace. He had correctly guessed every single card before it was shown on the table and helped one of the players win big. Although it has to be well after 2 in the morning, the night is bustling and alive. Dancers are on the sidewalks in big feathers and bikini costumes, people dressed as Disney characters and superheroes are posing for pictures, and tourists are drinking and laughing and mingling with one another.

“No,” Jungkook laughs, secrets in the sound. “I don’t need money.”

“Doesn’t everyone need money?”

Jungkook looks at you, tilting his head to the side. “There are things money can’t buy.”

“Like what?” You ask.

“Purity,” Jungkook responds. And the answer is so weird you stop walking.

“Purity?” You put your hands on your hips, half mocking him. “Like chastity?”

Jungkook moves close to you, looking down at you with those deep and confusing eyes. Your lips are part of their own volition. You want to kiss him. You want to do a lot more than kiss him.

“Not chastity,” Jungkook looks wistful. Almost sad. “Heaven. The purity of it. When you fall, you can’t buy your way back in.”

Heaven. You think to yourself, looking at this man who seems to be a fallen angel himself. Beautiful and dark and full of magic, real or not, that pulls something buried deep inside of you and brings it to the surface. You hate how sad he looks, how regretful and reproachful. You want to ease his pain, you want to give him a slice of Heaven, a slice of the world, to see him smile and his eyes crinkle again.

And hell, if you don’t want to give yourself a piece of Heaven, of him, as well.

Without thinking, you pull him into an alley between hotels. The night is hot and starless, the smell of sweat and alcohol and lowered inhibitions in the air. You don’t feel fully in control of your body, letting instinct guide you and Jungkook into the dark narrow street.

“Time is almost up,” Jungkook reminds you.

You growl in response, not even sure you know how to make such a sound. Not sure where this all consuming emotion has come from. “I don’t care.”

Reaching out for him, you slam your bodies together and crash your lips onto his. You fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a long lost puzzle you didn't even know you’d been trying to solve. You push Jungkook’s hair back, catching a glimpse of small stud earrings in his ear. The jewelry is extremely sexy and you feel even more eager than you did before to feel him.

Taking more control, Jungkook pushes you back until you hit one of the walls. You can hear the laughter and sounds of people around you on either side of the alley, walking up and down the strip and drinking. It would be so easy for someone to look in and see you both, obviously involved in much more than an innocent kiss.

He touches you and you feel like you might break a part into a million little pieces. His touch is shocking, little fires trailing behind his fingers as they roam down the bare skin of your arms. Your back arches into the stone behind your head, a moan ripping from your throat when his fingers graze the skin of your neck. Jungkook is watching you with a feral gaze, licking his lips before leaning in to run his lips and teeth over your throat. You grip the front of his shirt, desperate to feel more. To feel everything.

Jungkook crowds you closer to the wall, aligning his body to press against yours. You can feel the rises and plains of his muscle and frame through your thin dress. Your breasts peak with anticipation, a tingling sensation building low in your stomach. Jungkook hooks his hands around your thighs, the feeling of his bare skin on yours eliciting a string of curse words from your mouth. You’re ready to beg him to touch you where you need it.

Luckily you don’t have to.

Once he has you firmly against the wall, with your legs hooked around his midsection, he curves his arm around your leg and lets his fingers graze you. There is nothing blocking his touch and the contact and slickness of you seems to shock him.

“No underwear?” He nearly growls.

“It’s a matching thing,” you all but pant.

“It’s a naughty thing, Princess.” Jungkook responds, pressing his thumb directly into you. “How could I not tell before?”

You ignore his statement, aware that you’re unable to question anything he does right now. His thumb begins to move and you moan, burying your head in the crook of his neck to muffle the sound. Jungkook’s other hand weaves through your hair, pulling you back against the wall so the sounds you emit echo against the narrow alley walls.

“I want to hear you,” he commands.

“But the people,” you begin to protest, knowing that even you don’t care.

“They can’t hear or see us,” he responds, a grin carving a wicked look to his features. “Like I told you: magic.”

Without warning, Jungkook slides two fingers into you, dragging the longest and deepest sound from your throat. Your hips are trying to move, begging for more friction, but he won’t give it to you. He has his body flush against yours on the wall. In complete control. You fucking love it.

His hair curls with sweat, the strands sticking to his forehead. The moisture seems to make him sparkle and glow. Like an angel on Earth. Maybe a fallen angel. He curls his fingers and strokes you, your walls clenching around his fingers with delicious pleasure.

“Shit,” he curses, sliding his fingers out. “I need to be in you. Now.”

You whine in agreement, the intensity in his words making your toes curl. Jungkook reaches in between your bodies to undo his belt, long and nimble fingers making quick work on the clasp. You want him to do wicked and horrible things with those fingers, and that belt. You want him to tie you down and make you beg for every lick of pleasure he could give you. Wild desperation begins to build in you. You could cum just from watching him. Just from seeing that pink tongue of his lick across his lips.

“Jungkook,” you groan, watching him pull his cock out.

The rational part of your brain is aware that you are both in public, with hundreds of people walking by the alley every minute. The rational part of you is aware that you can get arrested for this. That this is dangerous and irresponsible on so many levels. But the louder and reckless part of you never wants this to end. The irrational part of your brain believes him, trusts him, and trusts his magic. No one has noticed yet. Maybe luck. Maybe magic. You don’t care.

And then he is poised at your entrance and pushing into you in one, long, thrust. Your moans are incessant, no breath between the sounds. You can feel him at the back of you, you can feel him everywhere, filling you up and intoxicating you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he is groaning, deep and dark and raw.

He moves again, in and out, following an untraceable rhythm that is setting you on fire. You have never felt this alive before, this electrified, everything is you is singing with approval and building with pleasure. You didn’t know sex before this, you didn’t know how good it could feel before this. How can you ever be with anyone besides him now?

He’s going to fuck you and leave you fucked for the rest of your life.

Jungkook claims you in a kiss, his tongue roaming your mouth. He swallows your moans and sounds with shivers. Your hands reach under his shirt and travel along the rigid muscle of his stomach and shoulders. His body seems to come alive beneath the touch, skin rippling and muscle contracting.

You can feel his large intake of breath along your lips. You don’t think you’ve heard him sigh until now, or breathe at all for that matter. It’s like he has never taken air into his lungs before you touched him. And now you can’t stop. Your fingers are everywhere as he continues to fuck you. Wild. This is wild.

“Don’t stop,” you beg, breaking the contact of the kiss for breath.

Jungkook’s eyes are touching you as they roam around your face, down your neck and collarbones, over your breasts and stomach, until they settle on the point where your bodies are joined. His skin is slick with sweat. His eyes are burning with passion. The muscles of his back and taut, signaling he feels as close as you do to release.

He reaches between you and begins to rub your clit in small circles. That’s it. You’re gone. You’ve sunk so deep, you know there’s no coming back. You splinter and break a part around him, milking his cock with tight spasms until you feel him cum, as well. You cum for what feels like forever, moaning and writhing and shaking at his touch.

Jungkook’s teeth are grazing at your throat and he bites gently. You think you’re going to cum again, moaning and arching up to give him more access. He’s still in you, despite the cum you feel dripping around him and coating your thighs. Jungkook’s lips curve up and he pushes his teeth deeper into the base of your throat. You feel a sharp sting and then warm, hot blood is dripping down your collarbones and between your breasts. Jungkook lets out a gasp as your blood fills his mouth, swallowing the thick liquid like he’s a man dying of thirst. His eyes are glowing, his skin is glowing, and you swear the tattoo on his arm stretches itself out, like it's waking up after a long sleep.

“You,” he says, capturing you in a long searing kiss. You can taste your own blood. You can taste your own desire, still throbbing deep and low after he’s satisfied you. “You are my princess.”

And then, just as quickly as you were there, you’re gone. Swallowed up by a black so endless and so deep you’re not sure you’ll ever resurface. Like realizing you’ve sunk too far in the deep end of the pool and wondering if you’ll make it out. Like falling asleep and hoping you don’t wake up. And consciously, dangerously, eerily, like the color of his eyes.

You’ve met Satan on the strip.

And your hour is now eternity.

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~Admin Eggplant

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jjkpls · 4 years ago

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the wishlist (m) - 4

“What does it mean if a guy talks about your nipples?”

> genre : smut, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> total words : 4.7k

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; sextoys talk; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity ; awkwardness

previous - next

The issue is that Jungkook -and you're not a bitch for thinking that- is a little bit of an idiot.

He can be very smart. He can be wise and present unsuspecting resources and knowledge. He can teach you things you don't know anything about, figure out others you struggle to -but not during stressful times like for say an escape game because during those, he turns absolutely, utterly useless.

But he is an idiot too. An idiot that sometimes shapes situations and conclusions and ideas in a very peculiar way that is very singular to him.

That’s precisely what happens then. He plays his role right, to its full extent, with great dedication and commitment. Except he missed a memo, misread the script and ends up playing a role that's not the one you planned for him. He believes that he’s your new adult toy provider (as if there is such a thing).

When you think he’s coming over to share a meal or play some game or binge-watch a series you promised to wait for him to experience together, he has a box hidden in his pocket or carried under his arm.

He has the decency to not comment on it the first time around. He just set it down on the coffee table, between the bowl of chips and the one filled with guacamole. You see the logo on top of it. You recognize the design, reffined, minimalist with the pretty pastel matte colour.

He probably identifies the shame and the annoyance on your face, painting your cheeks and reshaping your eyebrows, and doesn’t say anything. Simply smiles to himself and starts talking about the series’ new episode that’s about to start.

It takes a lot of efforts, coming from you, to ignore the conspicuous object sitting just in front and in between you. But eventually, probably because more than a decade of friendship with this guy have grown impressive mind muscles on you, you manage to make abstraction of it.

It just stops existing for a while until he leaves and you’re curious to see what’s inside. And again you have the same old intentions as before. The same ones.

You won’t use it.

It’s curiosity. And it's fine for you to be curious because he’s the one buying it and gifting it to you. Why should you be blamed?

Freshly hopped in bed, just done reading the notice hanging over your face, you’re yawning and sending your eyebrows high in interest. Again you won’t use it but it sounds very interesting. That’s when you get a text from him.

Guk

So about the toy!

As if you were waiting for his explanation. As if the conversation got cut short and you were expecting him to pick it back up whenever possible.

You won’t entertain him.

You

I said not to buy me this.

Guk

You never said that! You said something about me being crazy but never about buying one again

Because you're mostly made of petty bitch material, you scroll higher quickly, wishing to find something, any text that would corroborate what you’re saying.

You don’t find anything though. Because you never actually told him to not buy you other toys by text, and now that you come to think of it, you probably never did out loud either because you didn’t fucking know that he would even consider doing so.

It’s not even Christmas anymore. It’s not your birthday. There’s even less of a valid reason for him to get you this therefore, of course, you did not explicitly warn him not to, you didn’t think it would be necessary.

You

It’s not even my fucking bday why???

Guk

I told you the lady at the shop

But who the hell is that lady?

Guk

She talked about a lot of products and they all seemed cool and because you liked the other one I thought I’d get you this one too

You

Jungkook

This simple response says a lot, you hope he can read between the pixels of his screen the desperation, the irritation, the frustration, the silent insults.

Guk

Listen it’s super cool it's supposed to mimic the touch of a finger

Jungkook then proceeds to explain to you how it works. The original idea being a system with a tiny ball rolling under a silicon skin, to place on your clitoris to have the illusion of a finger's touch. And it’s interesting and innovative surely and sounds intriguing as in, you wonder if it’s accurate, but you’re tired and it seems like you’re wading in some sort of swamp you can’t escape from. There’s a fire burning your skin from your cheeks to your chest. You’re both hating this conversation and unwilling to just draw a final period to it. This asshole.

You

I can read

Guk

So you opened it already??

There’s a bunch of excited emojis that follows his last message and fill up the empty space your lack of response leaves.

Why and how can he be so eager?

Here comes the delusional part of your brain. It’s a very wide, very deep hallway covered in bookshelves filled to the brim with stupid interpretations and beliefs and sometimes even memories you’ve shared with him. Often next to the laters are pinned an article from a teenage magazine or the jacket of a romance movie, specifically there to validate that yes, indeed, it must have meant something.

The door of that corridor just creaked opened. You can discern the sound, you can feel the particular atmosphere without even having to take a step through.

Is it really that normal to be so excited about that? For him? As a friend?

It’s the most frustrating part: you are friends. Friends who supposedly can tell each other everything. Friends who can ask each other anything.

You should be able to talk about it. Just ask him. If there’s anything behind this whole mess, if he means to tell you something, if it’s wholly mindless, if there’s no hidden agenda.

It should be fine. There’s only trust and affection in this friendship.

You are still too scared, you are terrified that he’d start linking dots, ask himself some new questions, potentially answer them himself, and have you all found out.

You'd have your barely well-worn cover thrown completely away.

You send the blank emoji. The one with even the eyes closed. It summarizes your actual state pretty well, speechless, relatively annoyed.

Guk

She said you could try it on other parts of your body too

Guk

At first

Guk

Like on your lips or your nipples

You want to die.

Now.

No, better, you wish to have never been born.

Why is he talking about your nipples? Why?

And through all that, you still feel like something is wrong with you, along with your feelings.

Turns out you are so overwhelmed by his clueless inadequacy, you need a good half an hour and a random shot of tequila to get through it. When it’s gone and exhaustion of a long day and alcohol have knocked nervousness and panic out, you fall asleep, forgetting about answering his outrageous last texts.

“What does it mean if a guy talks about your nipples?”

Min's finger stops midair, above the cash register she's been working on. She needs a good minute to get back to her senses and while you wait, anxiety invades you. Maybe you should never have brought it up.

But this question, the torturous thing is slowly killing you.

Min finally turns her head to you, eyes squinted and eyebrows drawn low. She sucks in her pretty red lips before opening them to start formulating, with it seems a certain struggle, an answer.

“I don’t think I quite understand.”

It’s a pretty straightforward, relatively easy question. That’s what you'd want to say but you’ve reached the state of bashful regret and decide not to press it. Some things are better just left alone.

“Who talked about your nipples?” She ends up asking the one thing you wished she wouldn’t because there is no way you’re giving his name.

“Doesn’t matter.” You mumble, turning around slightly, getting back to the task you were here, paid, to do -wipe the shelves clean and not talk about your “““love””” life.

“I think it does. You wanna know if it means something? Like the guy's into you?”

“Something like that.” Your cheeks are aflame now. No doubt about it. You silently curse at your manager who refuses that you don’t wear the ugly hat that holds your hair back because having a curtain of hair to hold behind, as a help to keep some of your remained, sparse dignity would have been peachy.

“What did he say exactly?”

Silence. You’re not elaborating. She sighs, defeated.

“Well, I suppose... he’s considered the fact that you have boobs. If it’s a straight guy, that’s a good sign, I guess?” She shrugs.

You don’t like the answer. It’s exactly what the wrong, defective part of your brain, the one directly wired to your heart, wanted to hear.

She doesn’t even have the context, anyway. It doesn’t mean much, doesn’t hold much power in your court of sensibility.

She stares at the side of your face, clearly attempting to drill holes in your head to try and find some answers. You’re awfully silent, have said too much yet not enough and she’s dying to know the whole story. You won’t give in and she can tell. There’s no way you’re sharing the whole thing. The most, probably, probative point of the whole story: the sex toys. It’d turn her into a devastating tsunami of nonsense and misinterpretation and drown you in its wake and you can’t, when you’re already struggling to stay afloat, allow that.

Tag list: @fangirls94 @realswimshaddy @safi4x @pnkd @somewhereinthestarss @kpopfandomftw @kai-kai-bookshelf @pasteljoonie @ggukkieland

A/N: Don’t forget to click on the next button on top, two parts are being posted simultaneously :)

#btswriterscollective #networkbangtan #ggukienet #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #my writing

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lucy90712 · 3 years ago

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Georgenotfound- cooking stream

wc- 1920

~ George woke me up this morning at around 9am which is unusual for him he is never up at this time let alone waking me up for anything other than for me to join his stream. I knew exactly why he was waking me up as well because today he is doing a cooking stream and he wanted my help.

We had already rented an airbnb so that people couldn't work out where we lived and now today we had to get ingredients and move his set up over to the airbnb for the stream. I told George to decide what he wanted to make and I would look up recipes and make a list of ingredients because I just knew that he would do something wrong and the stream would turn out awful, I also had a backup plan that I haven't told George about just incase things go south.

I was still recovering from my sleeping state when the warm covers were ripped off my body and I was pulled forcefully from the comfortable mattress underneath me by my own boyfriend. What a traitor. He dragged me somewhere else in the house I wasn't quite sure where because my eyes were still adjusting to being open and needing to be used but I soon worked out we were in the kitchen and George was getting breakfast for the both of us.

"You know you could have just asked me to get up instead of dragging me out of bed" I said

"I know but thats no fun and plus I never get to wake you up so I thought I'd have fun with it" he replied

Classic George. Any chance he gets he will try and annoy me or make fun of me for some reason but I love me him so I deal with it. He got two bowls from the cupboard and poured cereal into them as well as some milk and giving me one of the bowls without a spoon but I moved past that after all it was early morning and George doesn't function at that time.

I went into the cutlery draw and got two spoons for us because George had yet to realise he was going to have to eat his cereal with his hands. I found him sat at the table that we have looking around clearly wondering where he had put the spoon he was sure he had grabbed.

I decided to play a little bit of a prank on him by putting his spoon somewhere random in the room and sat down with mine to make him even more concerned. He looked at me and the look on his face was priceless he was so bamboozled about what he'd done.

"Are you alright?" I asked

"No I can't remember where I put my spoon" he said

"Wow you really aren't a morning person are you" I said

He looked at me as I got up and walked over to where I put the spoon and grabbed it giving it to him.

"Did I seriously put it over there?" He asked

"No you never even got them out the draw so I'll let you decided if thats better or worse" I said

We ate breakfast together before George went to shower and I got dressed for the day because I showered last night. George had told me that he got outfits for us for the actual stream so I didn't bother getting dressed up in any way I just put on some leggings and one of George's hoodies that I took from his wardrobe. Sometimes he gets annoyed at me when I steal his favourite hoodies but this one is one of his many versions of his merch so he won't be too annoyed at me.

George came out the shower as I was doing my makeup and he grabbed his grey merch hoodie that he wears all the time so we would be matching today. He didn't seem to notice at first but as soon as he was ready he came over to sit with me as I finished off my makeup like he often does and that was when he properly looked at me.

"Did you steal my hoodie?" He asked

"Yes I did what are you going to do about it?" I said

"Nothing because you look cute in it" he said

I smiled at him and he took my hand to take me out the door to go to the shops and get everything that he needed for his stream. George never let go of my hand the whole car ride and the whole time at the shops, he can be very affectionate when he wants to be like some days he won't want to let go of me and other days he will be so consumed with work that we barely talk. Today's stream is going to be difficult if he's this attached to me but we'll work it out.

While getting all of the things we needed someone came up to George while I was further up the isle getting the right spices. George can get kind of awkward around fans in real life but then he gets even more nervous when he's with me even though the fans know he just finds it weird for people to see us out together.

I left him to talk to the fan and just looked at the wall of various spices that really meant nothing to me but I didn't want George to feel too awkward. That was until I looked over and he had a look of desperation so I walked over to him and he put his arm around my waist, he squeezed me slightly for reassurance. He used me as an excuse to stop the conversation he was having and the fan left us alone.

He told me all about the interaction and said it was super awkward because they didn't really know who he was just recognised him and was asking all sorts of personal questions he wasn't comfortable answering.

After leaving the shop we went home to get most of George's set up before heading to the air bnb to set everything up ready for later. George went into the house while I sat in the car mainly because he said he didn't need my help.

We spent a good few hours setting everything up and starting testing streams to see if everything was working and if camera angles were good. Once it was all ready George went to get the outfits he had brought for us, he handed me mine and I went to put it on. He had got me a proper chef top with buttons and everything and some black leggings to wear with it as well as a chef hat of course.

George started his stream without me so that I could watch it just incase something had broken in the time between when we finished setting it up and now. When I decided that everything was working fine I went into the kitchen to go and join him and get this thing started.

"Chat we also have a special guest this stream" he said

I walked into the view of the camera and the chat started spamming my name and this ship name they have given me and George which kind of doesn't work but they like it so we go with it.

"Hey chat" I said

We got on with cooking and George grabbed what we needed and started preparing things as I read the instructions to him. He did keep getting distracted by various different things and people that were calling him but we managed to do most of it in the end.

First we made mozzarella sticks which was pretty easy and then we moved onto cooking a steak and making chips which wasn't as easy. I offered to cook the steak because I didn't trust George but he wouldn't let me incase I hurt myself which I thought was funny because if anyone was going to get hurt it was him.

Anyway the both of us survived that and frying the mozzarella sticks which was more dangerous and then we got made fun of by Sapnap, dream, bbh and Quackity for calling crepes pancakes even though they are pancakes. (I will not be taking criticism on this) they kept insisting that what we were making wasn't pancakes but we held strong with our argument and won in the end with the help of the British viewers in chat.

When everything was made and we had tried it all we just kind of stood about talking to dream who was the only one left in the call. By now George couldn't bare to be away from me any longer so he put his arm around me and pulled me into his chest, he was not about to let go anytime soon so I gave in and put my head into his chest settling in.

Dream got George to follow his instructions he gave him which involved taking off his hat and headphones then he told him to mess up his hair, as soon as he said this I knew what he was doing and I appreciated it. George always styles his hair when he gets up but I love it when its messy although he never leaves it like that.

George messed up his hair and then went to the sink to get it wet and then messed it up more, he looked so good like that I almost got scared that his stream would see me blushing over just how hot he looked.

"What? I've never seen your hair like that" dream said

"I mean I like your messy hair" I said

"Wait you like it?" George asked

"Yeah of course I do" I said

"Well I guess I'm doing my hair like this from now on" he said

I smiled ruffling up his hair more to make it look exactly how I like it which his chat also appreciated, they were loving this just as much as I was. George ended his stream after like 4 hours making it just past 11pm. We packed up all of George's set up and cleaned the place before starting the drive back home.

By the time we got boys back home I was super tired but I had promised George that I would help him take all of his stuff back inside and set it back up which was going to take a while and I was not looking forward to it.

It took us two hours to set everything back up, I thought I was tired before but now I was exhausted I could barely move I just wanted to be in bed asleep. I tried to get up from my position on the floor but my legs were too weak so George had to pick me up and carry me to our bedroom where he put me down on the bed and chucked a hoodie at my face for me to wear. I got into the covers and pulled them up to just under my chin getting comfy as George got in too placing his arm over me and hugging me from behind which is how we normally sleep. My eyes gradually got heavier as George whispered things into my ear until I couldn't keep them open anymore and sleep took over.

#georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound #george #george x reader #gnf #dsmp #mcyt

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neverminditsnamjoon · 4 years ago

Text

BTS Cuddling/Showing Affection (HCs)

In honor of Yoongi’s birthday, here is my first writing project for BTS! Massive thank you to @yoongisshadow for being my partner in crime, editor/proofreader, and providing some of the gifs!! Go follow her if you’re not already--she’s amazing!

Genre: Tooth-rotting fluff, rated PG

Word Count: ~1800

Jin

If he’s chilling on the couch, he likes when you put your head on his shoulder

That way he can rest his head against yours

Has definitely fallen asleep in this position (more than once)

He tends to sleep with his hands resting on his stomach

If you’re there, he’ll fold one of your hands under his, smiling serenely when you rub your fingers in circles over his tummy

If you’re laying in bed, he prefers to lay against your side, with a single arm thrown over your midsection

Will immediately wake up if you move

He enjoys other forms of cuddling as well

Like letting you rest with your head in his lap

“So you can look up and see my handsome face.”

He also loves hugs a ridiculous amount (have you seen those shoulders?? perfect for Hug!!)

Jin will find any excuse to hug you, and wraps his arms around you until he can literally feel you relax into him

Acts of service are his love language

So you best bet he’s gonna cook for you

If Jin doesn’t bring you food (and feed it to you himself) at least once a day, you get worried

You’re his go-to taste tester, and you get stupidly happy upon hearing Jin call to you from the kitchen, “Honey, come taste this for me.”

He owns a Kiss the Cook apron, and he will definitely enforce it

Yoongi

Yoongi shows affection by giving you nice gifts

Sometimes it’s a coffee, made just the way you like it

Sometimes it’s a $1300 Chanel necklace

There’s no telling lol

Whether it’s a four-dollar coffee or something extravagant, the gift is always presented with a shrug and a nonchalant expression

But when you kiss him and whisper your thanks, he’s all gums

“Bad Boy” doesn’t do PDA, at all. However-

He is known to fall asleep at random, and you usually happen to be sitting next to him when he does

Taehyung has an album on his phone just for pictures of Yoongi snoozing on your shoulder, his mouth open

Tae never posts them for fear of his own life, but he’s sent you a couple

One of them is your lockscreen

When it’s just the two of you, he relaxes a little more

It’s a subtle, quiet vulnerability, but you’ve learned to pick up on it

When he gives you a gummy smile after you’ve had a bad day, you know it means “I care about you”

When he brushes his fingers across your back, you know he’s saying “I love you”

When he asks, “are you cold?”, you know it’s an invitation to curl up into his side

His arm around your shoulder is enough to feel how much he enjoys your presence

You toss and turn in the night, but Yoongi is in the exact same place when you wake

“Of course he’ll be a rock in his next life,” you think to yourself. “He already sleeps like one.”

Hobi

Bangtan’s resident Aquarius isn’t always the best at showing his emotions via physical affection

So Hobi doesn’t do any mushy-gushy affection in public

Mostly, it’s just him always trying to make you laugh

Goofy dances, dumb jokes, and silly faces. Anything to see his girl smile :’)

Every once in a while, he’ll give you a colored drawing he made, giggling a cute amount when he sees you’re excited about it

When he’s really, really tired, Hobi gets cuddly

He loves laying on his back between your legs, with his arms resting on them

If he leans his head back against your chest, he can hear the soft thrum of your heartbeat

This sound lulls him to sleep without fail, and it’s the sole reason he gets enough rest sometimes

When you come home from a rough day at work, he holds his arms open to you and squeezes you tight

For a man who’s an actual wordsmith, he can get mighty tongue-tied around you

So he puts his most intimate confessions in his raps

No one will ever hear them, but he utters them quietly to you when he thinks you’re asleep

He goes beet red one night when you open your eyes and gaze up at him with more love than you thought you could ever feel

“You wrote that for me?”

He can only sputter and chuckle nervously in response, but you kiss him and say, “I love it.”

“I love you,” is his answer, accompanied by his brilliant smile

Namjoon

A very loving and sweet boyfriend, as we all can guess

Even being the leader of one of the biggest bands in the world, Joon manages to be a pillar of emotional support for you

He’s always sure to check in with you between practices and recording sessions, or when he’s away on tour

Has never forgotten a birthday or anniversary, treating you to a lovely dinner and flowers every time

He’s never afraid to show his affection for you wherever you happen to be

Sometimes it’s the weight of an arm slung over your shoulders, and a soft kiss pressed to the side of your head

The boys don’t even make fun of him for being affectionate, partly out of fear and partly out of respect because they can tell he loves you so much

When you’re out and about, it’s hand holding

One of your favorite memories is walking down the street downtown, window shopping and judging people together

You’re not sure how Joon makes hand-holding look and feel so cool, but he does

His love language is definitely words of affirmation, but he still likes getting you little gifts here and there, especially while he’s abroad

He knows better than to buy you anything breakable, for fear that it might not get to you in one piece lol

No matter what, they’re always thoughtful

Insists on being the big spoon all the time

So he can kiss the top of your head and wrap his arms around you to make you feel safe

Joon usually wakes up before you and makes breakfast, but on the rare occasion you get up first, he always comes looking for you

Just imagine a sleepy Namjoon waking up and calling out, “Baby?” when you get up before him :(

Jimin

This boy is constantly kissing you, holding your face with both hands and giggling

And he WILL pout if you’re not constantly kissing him too

Always has his arms around you, hugging you from the back with his chin resting on your shoulder

His favorite thing to do, to make you smile every time, is sweeping you along with him for a dance

Even if you’re not coordinated, he twirls you around the room, singing loudly until he sees you smile

“You’re doing great, baby!”

Jimin showers you with compliments every chance he gets

From your outfit to your hair, to your talents to your glowing personality, he’s got a smooth compliment for it

When you’re relaxing in the evenings together, and Jimin is extra snuggly, he’ll push you over onto the couch and lay on top of you

He thrives on skin-to-skin contact and doesn’t care who sees

Because Jimin is babie, and better yet, he’s YOUR baby

He can fall asleep in any position, as long as you’re snuggled up with him

Hands holding, arms around each other, whatever--it’s all good to Mochi

He prefers to be woken up by you, instead of any of the members, because he can get kisses from you with just a second of puppy dog eyes

Will shamelessly flirt with you regardless of setting, and has definitely made eyes at you while he’s on stage or interviewing

Lots of people have one or two love languages, but Park Jimin has all five

He brings you gifts after every trip, and at this point you have more stuffed animals than you can count

Taehyung

Also constantly kissing your face

Highkey loves it when you play with his hair (the man is basically a golden retriever)

He’s known to nuzzle his face into your neck, especially if he’s sleepy

Physical affection (giving and receiving) is the recipe for his happiness

Arms? Around you. Hands? Holding yours. Happy Tae? Check.

Tae is especially fond of giving you his clothes and accessories

If you look a bit chilly, Taehyung will immediately take off his coat and drape it around your shoulders

He’ll take off his hat or scarf and carefully place it on you, even sometimes giving you his necklaces and earrings

Loves doing activities together, whether it be cooking, video games, or being outside

As long as you’re nearby, Taehyung is having a blast

He’s particularly enthusiastic when it comes to supporting you in your career and passions

When you burst through the door yelling that you’ve gotten a promotion, Tae is all shrieking noises and throwing shoes

If you start a new hobby, Tae has pictures of whatever it is and has definitely shown them to everyone who will look

“Isn’t she great?”

When you’re alone together, he always serenades you

No matter the music you’re jamming to, Taehyung is dancing around you and singing it to you at full volume

When he’s sleepy or feeling down, Tae’s favorite way to snuggle is the two of you laying down facing each other

That way you can run your hands through his hair and he can whisper sweet nothings to you

Jungkook

Enjoys receiving affection more than giving, unless you’re completely alone

If it’s just the two of you, Koo will make grabby hands for you to come sit on his lap while he’s at his computer

He’ll pick up takeout and pat the seat next to him, asking you join him for dinner

His hands are literally always in your hair

Brushing, twirling, stroking

Sings to you ALL. THE. TIME.

Sometimes absentmindedly, but other times he’ll show you a song idea and sing it to you shyly

He laughs and blushes a little when you praise him for it

Koo loves drawing on your arms, if you’ll let him, because it reminds you of him

When you’re around others, he isn’t as lovey-dovey, but you notice a slight pout in his lips if you aren’t giving him enough attention

This can be quickly relieved by bumping your nose into his neck, or squeezing his arm gently

But the best part of Jungkook’s affection for you? The way you know he REALLY cares about you?

Homeboy actually responds to your texts.

I know, I can’t believe it either

Koo has been seen many times pulling his phone out during a break in practice and smiling to himself as he replies to your memes and check-ins

The rest of the guys clown the shit out of him for being so babie with you, but he takes it like a champ

Because you’re his girl, and he loves you so much

258 notes · View notes

kitkat1003 · 4 years ago

Text

Where the Sea Meets Earth

Ao3 Link

Summary:

Tang's life has fallen into a steady, comfortable routine, one he feels no need to change.

So he doesn’t.

Until he has to.

Note: Hi! Lowkey used an idea from @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off when it came to Pigsy's rival. They make great content, give them a look! As always, shout out to my beta reader, @imnotcameraready, the most kind and patient editor out there. She edited this all in one night, the mad lad. Send love her way!! She goes by UncrownedKing on Ao3, check out her stuff! Anyway, have fun!

Tang’s routine is simple. Get up, watch Pigsy make breakfast. Steal an egg or two that Pigsy definitely didn’t make in preparation for such thievery. Follow Pigsy around as the noodle shop is set up for the morning. Listen to the hiss of oil in a hot wok, water bubbling in a tall pot, knife against the wooden cutting board, each slice precise with practice.

Admire the way Pigsy’s arms bulge with muscle as he lifts heavy boxes of spices, meat and vegetables. Watch the sweat on his brow build up as he tosses the ingredients in the wok, stirs the broth, sticks a pinkie in before pulling it out to taste the concoction, tilting his head to the side in thought every time before reaching for a different spice—

Chuckle when MK scrambles down the stairs, a second before being late. Wave back when MK greets him enthusiastically. Listen to Pigsy bark orders. Watch MK vanish out the store door, listen to the sound of the delivery cart starting up. Wait for the customers to come in.

Sometimes, between the breakfast and lunch rush, he will vanish into the town. He’ll peruse the shelves of a bookstore, maybe get a book or two. Then, he’ll come back to the restaurant and watch Pigsy work until closing, with the occasional interruption from MK or Mei. Pigsy will make dinner, and they’ll eat while watching TV before ending the night, asleep next to each other.

It’s a steady routine, one Tang feels no need to change.

So he doesn’t.

Routines are brought on by repeated motions and consistent action. He finds himself considering them more and more, these days. Tang follows the lines back, through time, to trace where each routine began, as Pigsy yells at MK to get going.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He lives off a trust fund from his late parents, as well as a few checks from his work in historic preservation. His family has passed down the stories of old for years, and he knows them well and by heart, because at 18 his memories had come flooding in, and suddenly he was older than time itself and yet just old enough to have sake enough that creating books and speaking on historical inaccuracies is easy to turn into a living.

A few years ago, he gave it up because it hadn’t seemed important to bother anymore after his parents died. The next year he’d wasted time coasting through town after town, sharing random tales for a meal, trying to forget that he was alone, until….

Two years ago, he watched Pigsy throw a customer out of his shop, threatening the unruly guest within an inch of his life, and thought Well then. Something interesting.

Tang had actually gone to the rival noodle shop first. It seemed a bit more inviting. Pigsy, for all his culinary achievements, is still very closed off, and his shop certainly reflects that. Sometimes, Tang wonders if Pigsy would get more customers if he’d change his attitude, but he never brings it up, because what would Pigsy’s Noodles be without Pigsy?

He watches from afar a few days, until the Pigsy’s rival shop owner not so subtly nudges him over, and the moment he walks in, he’s knocked to the ground by a very exuberant noodle delivery boy.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry—are you alright?” Tang sits himself upright to the sound of frantic apologies, seeing a kid no older than 18 fretting over him as if he’d been stabbed instead of simply knocked over.

“It’s fine,” he starts, a little annoyed but not rude enough to make the boy more panicked than he already looks to be.

“MK, what did you do?!” Comes the familiar gruff voice from the kitchen, and the boy—MK, Tang has gathered—helps him stand as the chef walks out of the kitchen, hands on his hips.

“I didn’t notice him coming in—I just knocked into him—it was an accident!” Tang worries, then, because MK seems scared, but those worries are swept away when the chef takes a deep breath and slowly, his stance relaxes.

“It’s fine, kid, just get those deliveries out, ‘kay?” his voice is so gentle, Tang remembers now he was taken aback. Now it feels so natural for Pigsy’s voice to be gentle. “I’ll take care of this.”

MK nods to that, jittery and anxious, and walks out with a forced slowness that Tang can tell is from worry and guilt. Once he’s left, Tang turns back to Pigsy, who lets out a breath and mutters something about how ‘this kid is gonna be the death of me’ before looking up at Tang with what Tang later learned is his customer service expression.

“Alright, c’mon in. Welcome to Pigsy’s Noodles, home of the longest noodles.”

At that, Tang has to snort. He saunters over to the barstools and sits as Pigsy goes back behind the counter, into the kitchen.

“I don’t know if long is the metric you want to brag about,” he snarks, settling easily.

Pigsy grunts in reply, already back to cooking.

Two minutes later, Tang gets a bowl of noodles placed in front of him.

“On the house,” Pigsy grouches, before Tang even thinks to reach into his coin purse. “For the trouble.”

“That doesn’t seem like a very sound business practice,” Tang laughs, taking a sip of the broth after it cools a little.

It was the best he had ever tasted.

“Don’t get any ideas about it.” Pigsy fidgets with his chef’s hat, face settling into a scowl, and yet Tang can tell it was all bluster with no substance.

He pulls a pair of chopsticks out of the free container, snaps them apart, and eats as customers flit in and out of the shop.

Despite the fact that he never stays in one place for too long, Tang finds himself sticking around more than just a few weeks, trailing through the streets and eventually finding himself back at the noodle shop. The noodles are delicious, cheap, and he finds the company of the chef a comfortable one.

Things get far more interesting when the delivery boy, MK, comes down late and gets an earful for it.

“Sorry—I stayed up late drawing the autobiography of Monkey King and I missed my alarm!” MK bows in apology, frantic, and Pigsy runs a hand over his face, pointing MK to a dirty table to clean.

MK gets to work quickly, but Tang turns to him with a curious expression.

“You like Monkey King?” he asks, and he hears Pigsy groan from the kitchen.

“Here we go,” Pigsy mutters, but he does nothing to stop MK from turning to face Tang with a wide, blinding smile on his face.

“Do I! He’s so cool, and strong, and handsome, and interesting! I’ve watched the animated series like, fifteen times!” he rushes up to Tang, pushing a very worn, bound together book.

Tang flips through it, more out of politeness than anything else, and finds himself pleasantly surprised by the intricacy of the sketches, the love poured into pages, notes on the stories themselves scrawled out next to the drawings.

“This is...surprisingly accurate,” He glances over at MK, who preens at the praise.

“Thanks! I’ve been drawing these, since, like, forever! It’s going to be Monkey King’s autobiography. Uh, unofficially, anyway,” MK rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Tang pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“It’s always nice to see the younger generation so interested in history,” Tang grins with pride as he adds, “You know, I know essentially every Monkey King story. I even wrote an academic paper on them. Published.”

He watches MK’s excitement grow. “Really?! Oh my gosh, that’s so cool! Can you tell me one? Pretty please?!” He’s bouncing on his toes, and Tang can’t help but chuckle.

“I could tell you a tale or two,” he starts, watching as the shine in MK’s eyes grow. “But I need something in return. A bowl of noodles, perhaps?”

MK’s smile drops, and he fidgets.

“I don’t know if I have the money…” he mumbles, mostly to himself, and then he turns to Pigsy, a question in his eyes.

“No,” Pigsy says, immediately.

Tang has never seen someone use puppy dog eyes like a weapon before, but MK pulls them off like a pro.

MK’s hands are clasped together. “Please?”

“I got bills to pay, kid! I can’t be giving free meals to strangers!”

“Well, I’m hardly a stranger,” Tang teases, smile widening when Pigsy reddens. “We met yesterday, remember~?”

“Shut yer yap,” Pigsy grinds out, but Tang has seen Pigsy far angrier, from his reconnaissance days at the shop across the street, so he isn’t worried.

Pigsy turns back to MK, mouth clearly open to rebuff the kid, but MK’s puppy dog eyes have been turned up past 100%. Tang watches as Pigsy crumbles beneath their gaze.

“Fine,” he grits it out between clenched teeth. “But this is a one time thing! I don’t have time for freeloaders around here. And not now! I got ten orders to make, that you have to take out,” he points to MK, who is nodding his head so quickly his face becomes a blur.

“Okay! So, in like an hour, okay Mr.Tang?” he turns to Tang, who grins, calm as ever.

“I’ll be here,” he responds, voice even, and MK busies himself with cleaning up the tables before Pigsy hands him the orders.

When MK disappears, Pigsy sighs.

“You know, pretty sure it’s rude to use kids to get free food,” he says, and Tang can only chuckle again.

“I’m not sure what you mean. I’ve used my knowledge to score many a meal before, this is no different. You’d be surprised what people will give for an interesting story.”

Pigsy snorts, at that, and rolls his eyes.“You a good storyteller, at least?” he asks, and Tang puffs out his chest proudly.

“The best.” After all, his papers got him a pretty good amount of wealth, so he’d hope he’s good enough to earn that.

Pigsy turns back to his prep work, shaking his head, but Tang sees the barest hint of a smile, before Pigsy turns away.

Despite protests from Pigsy, Tang comes back the next day with another story and receives the same free bowl of noodles. He doesn’t get noodles every day, not stupid enough to think that Pigsy could afford to give him one daily, but he appears at the noodle shop every day regardless, if only to watch the hustle and bustle of the place, watch Pigsy work.

Pigsy works with practiced motions, not a single measuring cup or spoon appearing in his hand. Pinches, handfuls of colorful spices thrown in with fresh vegetables. Tang watches him string out the noodles from fresh made dough, dropping them in the broth, stirring, always test tasting, constantly adding something else, another pinch of spice, until he’s only somewhat satisfied.

It’s a familiar feeling. The need to constantly make better, the chase for perfection. Is it any wonder, then, that Pigsy’s shop thrives? Customers learn that deliveries are often better than eating in, because Pigsy’s attitude is abrasive and he’s loud in the kitchen. Regardless, he runs a big enough business and makes good money, enough to keep MK as an employee despite MK’s many missteps.

Tang learns, through snippets of conversations, that MK lives upstairs. Pigsy gave him the job and the room. MK doesn’t talk of his parents, or any of his family really, but he has a friend, Mei.

Mei is as loud as MK is, and she’s familiar in the same way Pigsy. These people he meets at the noodle shop who come for company just like he does, lives slotting into each other with ease. Talking to them is like picking up a conversation left off a thousand years ago, stumbling only for a second before falling into the familiar groove.

Tang slowly learns the group dynamic, learns that MK’s parents haven’t spoken to him since he was kicked out, that Mei stays as far away from her home as she can for as long as possible, that Pigsy has nothing to his name besides his shop and himself.

Sees the family, the foundation, centered around the little hole in the wall restaurant, and keeps himself rooted, just for a little while.

The shop is closed every third Sunday of the month. That is the only day that it is consistently closed. Pigsy works seven days a week, twelve hours a day, without fail, except for that third Sunday. Tang forgets, one month, and catches Pigsy heading out in the early morning.

“What, forgot you can’t steal food today?” Pigsy greets him with a frown that softens into something like a smile.

“Maybe I don’t come for the food,” is Tang’s snappy reply, and he watches with satisfaction as Pigsy pauses, thinks, and then turns a dusty rose color.

Turns out, Pigsy’s ears blush with his cheeks. “Anyway, going on a walk? I might join you,” he turns.

Pigsy stares at him, as if he can’t tell if Tang is serious or not, before he sticks his hands in his pockets and starts walking. “I’m going shopping. Don’t get in my way,” is the response, and Tang takes it for the acceptance of the company that it is, and catches up to Pigsy with ease, stepping in time with him.

The perks of having long legs.

Tang watches as Pigsy charges his way into the market, eyes sharp for the best ingredients, the ripest vegetables—or, the vegetables soon to be ripe, to save for the later weeks. He gets a practiced amount for every ingredient that goes into his food.

“Have to get the meat weekly, but the produce can last if I make it,” Pigsy explains, and Tang nods.

“That makes sense. I never notice a drop in quality, regardless of the week,” he comments.

Pigsy rolls his eyes. “Pretty sure anything tastes great to a freeloader,” he grumbles.

“I’ll have you know I have a refined palette,” Tang huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

Pigsy laughs then, raucous and loud, a sound Tang has never heard from him before. His heart pitter-patters quickly in his chest, and he thanks everything that his scarf hides his face and that Pigsy is short enough to not be able to spot his blush.

“Okay, wise guy,” Pigsy’s voice draws him back in. “You ever cooked yourself a meal before, then?” He elbows Tang gently, or as gentle as Pigsy is able to be, and Tang stumbles a bit before replying.

“Well…,” his voice alludes to the obvious answer, and Pigsy laughs at him all over again.

Tang decides he likes the sound.

A few months after Tang has cemented his spot at the noodle bar, Pigsy goes to usher him out of the shop one evening as he closes for the night and stops, right before heading up the stairs. He turns to Tang with an unplacable look.

“Where are you even staying?” Pigsy asks. “Not a resident, I think I’d’ve noticed a newcomer that was moving in.”

Tang shrugs at the thought. “Wherever.”

Typically, he’ll head out to a busy bar and ingratiate himself to someone, convince them to let him join their party, and sleep on a random couch. He’s always gone before anyone wakes up, to be sure he misses the questions that would come from the house’s inhabitants. If he can’t manage that, well, he’s not above sleeping on a bench somewhere. It isn’t cold out yet, so he doesn’t worry about it.

Tang very well could get an apartment, with the amount of money he has saved. He could, but then he’d be trapped.

He’d have to say that he’s settling down, that a place is going to become home. And no place has really been home, not since his parents died and he walked through empty hallways and empty rooms that once meant something and now meant nothing to anyone besides himself. He’d sold the house, stored the memories away, burned the rest and ran before the smoke cleared.

How could he stay, when there was nothing left? He’d settled in for the long hall, cemented himself as something soft like the earth, and then it had been ripped away from him like roots, tearing up the soil and leaving a mess in its wake.

So he became stone, and left without a word.

Pigsy stares at him, something almost like concern on his face. Tang watches Pigsy’s eyes glance up towards the stairs, and then back to him. Deliberating. Tang tilts his head to the side, ever curious about the concern. He knows Pigsy cares, and he knows Pigsy, beyond the gruff exterior, is pretty soft, but he’s surprised by this development. He didn’t think that care would be extended to, in Pigsy’s words, a freeloader.

Then, Pigsy sighs.

“I’ve got a couch, if you’re interested,” he says, and Tang

Tang just follows Pigsy up to his apartment. There’s a hallway at the top of the stairs, a door they pass by that Tang can hear pop music playing in.

“MK’s place,” Pigsy says, before Tang can ever ask the question.

They reach Pigsy’s apartment door, at the end of the hall, and head in.

It’s a cluttered space. Well, everything save for the kitchen is cluttered. The kitchen is pristine, so much so that the rest of the apartment pales in comparison. It’s not dirty, there’s no trash or dishes left out, but there are just random items, magazines, cookbooks strewn about the rest of the living space.

“Sorry about the mess.” Pigsy says as he pulls off his chef’s hat and coat, hanging it up by the door. He takes off his dress shoes, and pulls out a pair of slippers from a bin, putting them to walk on the carpet. He glances back at Tang expectantly. Tang pulls off his scarf and hangs it up.

“It’s no problem. I wasn’t an expected guest, I’m guessing?”

Tang takes off his shoes and pulls a pair of slippers from the bin. He isn’t surprised by the kitchen being clean, but he is a bit confused by the clutter. Pigsy takes care to keep his work space pristine, scrubbing it to sparking at the end of each work day. Perhaps this is a product of that, and Pigsy just is too tired to care as much in a space that is more his than it is his profession.

Somehow, that makes Tang concerned. He can’t pinpoint why.

Pigsy pulls off the random items from the couch, throwing them aside but scattering them further. He grunts in response to the rhetorical question.

“I’m gonna get a pillow and blanket. Don’t break anything.” Pigsy trudges off, and Tang looks at the clutter, and then at the perfectly good, half empty bookshelf.

By the time Pigsy gets back, Tang is sliding the last book onto the shelf. There’s still the other items that are less easy to categorize, but Tang would be remiss if he left perfectly good reading material to collect dust on the floor.

Pigsy opens his mouth to say something, and then abruptly closes it. He tosses the pillow and blanket on the couch.

“Uh...bathroom’s down the hall on your left. Night.”

Then, he vanishes into his room.

Tang finishes cleaning, and then goes to bed himself.

It becomes part of the routine. Pigsy never demands he come upstairs, but he never shuts the door on Tang, either, and Tang will never shoot down a free place to stay. Pigsy gets used to him, even. Sees Tang sitting on the couch, makes dinner, hands Tang a plate whatever it is and drops down on the couch to watch TV.

If it isn’t making fun of trash TV, Pigsy screams at cooking shows.

“You can’t just throw onion in it and expect it to work out!” he shouts.

Tang laughs. “Very bold from the guy who only serves one type of dish.”

Pigsy turns red. “I can make other food!” The argument is sound.

“I know,” Tang assures him, taking a bite of the steak salad Pigsy prepared. It’s the best he’s ever tasted. “You just choose not to, which I don’t understand. Why only noodles?”

The question throws Pigsy off guard, and Tang waits patiently for him to collect his thoughts. Finally, Pigsy sighs.

“They’re what I like to eat, I guess. Besides, if I made a full scale restaurant, I’d hafta get more cooks, hire waiters, ugh,” Pigsy looks disgusted just thinking about it. “The kitchen’s my place, I don’t trust any two bit cook to get it. I mean, just look at the ones on TV!”

He gestures to the television, as if Tang hasn’t been watching. Tang nods, glances at the screen anyway. “I like how the shop is. It’s small, but it’s good. Bigger doesn’t mean better.”

At that, Tang has to laugh. “You would think that,” he responds, and at Pigsy’s confused look, he gestures to Pigsy’s stature.

“Shut up,” Pigsy says with a blush. Tang can’t stop laughing, and Pigsy cracks a smile.

Living with Pigsy, Tang finds out, means dealing with all of Pigsy. This includes the moments where Pigsy can no longer keep a lid on his already hair-thin temper.

The clutter of the house suddenly makes sense when he comes up to the apartment to see Pigsy throwing books around the room, raging face red and pained and furious in a way Tang has never seen before.

“Bastards!” Pigsy shouts, voice hoarse.

He’s been clearly shouting for a while. His knuckles are bruised, and Tang spots a few dents in the wall.

“I’ll kill em! I-,” He freezes, upon seeing Tang standing by the door.

Tang watches as Pigsy reigns in his rage, somehow, forcing his shoulders to drop, standing up straight, letting out a breath. It looks painful.

“I see something’s bothering you,” Tang comments, direct and gentle as one can be when trying to talk to someone on the precipice of blind rage, as Pigsy breathes heavily.

“Leave.” Pigsy spits it out with a vitriol that is not aimed at Tang, but at something Tang isn’t a part of.

Tang knows this, and he won’t let Pigsy drown in it. He stands still, as the storm rages in blue eyes.

“No,” he is stone, hands clasped together. Pigsy grits his teeth, clenches his fists. The wave rises and crashes down.

“GET OUT!”

It’s loud enough to make Tang wince, but he doesn’t flinch.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

At that, Pigsy goes boneless, slumping down on himself. Tang steps forward, carefully, quietly, and directs Pigsy to the untouched couch.

Untouched because it’s Tang’s bed, Tang’s space. Because Pigsy would only destroy himself and his things, would only rage at the things he deems worthy, and Tang wonders, why does Pigsy think himself worthy of this hatred, the anger that sits in Pigsy’s heart?

Pigsy sinks into the cushions. Tang takes his bruised hands and holds them, letting Pigsy breathe.

“MK’s folks,” Pigsy finally spits out. “They found out the kid’s got a good job and an okay place, and now they want a cut of his earnings.”

The tone of Pigsy’s voice is nothing short of derisive, and Tang understands the fury now. It’s funny, that he knows Pigsy enough to tell the difference between rage that’s performative and fury that’s real, but it’s not that hard for him.

Fury like this comes from care, and there is no one Pigsy cares more about than MK. MK, the boy with the sunshine smile who likes Monkey King and drawing and will work himself to death for anyone’s approval.

“I’d have told em to shove it, but MK’s got a soft heart, and they told him it was paying back for all the trouble they had raising him.” Pigsy laughs, and it’s very, very bitter. “Like they raised him. Mei probably was a better parent than they were, and she’s his age. Bastards.”

Tang swallows the information, takes a deep breath. He wouldn’t consider himself easily angered, but this? This makes him furious. He doesn’t express his fury like Pigsy does, isn’t destructive, is cold and quiet and deadly. But he saves that for later, for when he can look up MK’s parents and figure out how to ruin them when it comes to their jobs, their social standings, their lives.

“Technically, that could be charged as harassment,” he suggests.

Pigsy snorts at that, at least.

“Yeah, but MK’s only 17. He’s turning 18 in a few months, but until then they could drag him back, charge me with kidnapping, ruin his whole life just because he isn’t their fucking lap dog,” The rage returns, and Tang watches as Pigsy carefully clenches his fists, as if he were too quick about it he could hurt Tang.

It strikes Tang, then, that he has never been afraid that Pigsy would hit him. It never crossed his mind. Because how could it?

“I’m gonna commit a felony,” Pigsy mutters.

Tang snickers. “I’ll drive,” he responds.

Pigsy looks up at him, and Tang hopes the expression on his face bleeds the sincerity he feels.

“As if I’d let you anywhere near the driver’s seat of my car,” Pigsy smirks as he says it, and he relaxes a bit more, the anger draining out of him like water through a sieve.

Tang wasn’t aware that he was tense himself, but he relaxes a bit, too.

“But you’ll get blood on the steering wheel. And besides, it’s no fun not having a criminal record. I ought to start it sometime, right?”

“You don’t know anything about me, if you think this’ll be the beginning of my record,” Pigsy half laughs.

Tang shrugs. “You’re right. But, I’d like to.”

Pigsy looks up at him, then, the red in his face smoothing to something dusty and rosy and beautiful. Tang looks away first. “But, first, you need some ice and bandages for your hands.” He gets up to grab it.

When he comes back, Pigsy tells him all about the boy who would come in with exact change for the cheapest bowl of noodles, once a week every Friday. How the boy would ramble on and on about everything, and Pigsy would listen out of politeness, and somehow that turned to a fondness he couldn’t shake. How that boy came rushing in, half soaked in the rain, hiding out just for the moment before he was going to keep running. How Pigsy had thrown caution to the wind and moved mountains to get the kid to stay.

Tang listens, disinfecting the areas on Pigsy’s knuckles that are cut instead of just being bruised. He wraps them, gentle, and places ice on both. Even then, he doesn’t let go of the hands, lets them settle in his grip like they’d always belonged there.

“You’re a kind person, you know,” he says, when Pigsy is done. And he means it, too, thinking of MK alone on the streets, thinking of MK turning out like he did but without the funds to support him, a drifter with nothing and no one. It makes his stomach churn.

“Nah,” Pigsy shrugs his shoulders. “Just had a lot of time to get into practice with it.”

He doesn’t elaborate. Tang lets the conversation end, and turns on the TV. He cleans up the room when Pigsy falls asleep.

Pigsy makes him noodles the next day, without comment. Tang smiles and eats.

A lot of people miscategorize Pigsy as fire. Tang would like to propose a different point of view.

When he sees Pigsy, he sees the sea.

The ocean is never calm, but it can fall into a rhythm. Small waves, rippling waters. Crashing against the obstacle that is land, constantly pushing, constantly trying, constantly moving.

Pigsy will rage like a storm, he will shine like water in the sun, and he will fall into a rhythm as he works. He will push back against the rock that is indifference, and, like the ocean, he surrounds anything and everything, connecting every person he comes into contact with, as if they were the continents themselves. He ebbs and flows, forcing himself into the issues that plagues those he cares about, and yet pulls back and gives them space, never demanding anything other than their time, if they could give it.

The ocean is not harsh, nor is it merciful, but it is a force of nature all the same. And, if you weather its storms, it will carry you wherever you need to go.

And Tang sees a man who gives MK a reason to stick around when all MK wanted to do is run, Tang sees a man who never lets Mei skip a meal regardless of her status and wealth, Tang sees a man that makes sure Tang has a warm and safe place to stay, and sees the ocean carrying battered ships to shore.

Learning about MK’s family has opened up certain topics. Tang knows it’s only a matter of time before Pigsy asks about his life. That doesn’t stop him from stiffening, from going stone faced, when Pigsy finally brings it up.

“I don’t hear you talk about your folks,” Pigsy mentions offhandedly.

When he turns around and sees the expression on Tang’s face, he frowns.

“No,” Tang responds.

He says nothing else. Pigsy doesn’t press. Just turns back to making dinner. And Tang stares at his reflection in the teacup. He takes a sip. It burns his tongue, but he doesn’t feel it.

“They died. Nearly two years, now,” he finally says, and it’s like dropping a weight off of his shoulders.

Pigsy grunts in acknowledgment. Doesn’t give him the sad stare, the ‘oh I’m so sorry’, he just glances back with something softer than pity and closer to empathy.

Somehow, it lessens the dull ache in his chest.

“They good ones?” Pigsy asks.

Tang smiles, just a little. “Yes,” he breathes, and it hitches, thinking about how they pushed him forward, how they never demanded but always encouraged. Tang wasn’t good at making friends, not close ones anyway. But that never mattered, because his parents were there.

And now…

“Mine are gone too,” Pigsy says, after some time and mostly as an afterthought. “It ain’t easy, dealing with it.”

Tang huffs a wet laugh, pushing up his glasses to wipe his eyes.“No, it isn’t,” He responds.

Pigsy slides a bowl yanduxian soup, with some some skewers of meat, and sugar coated haws for dessert. Quite the array of a meal. Pigsy sits across from him, and starts in on his own meal.

Tang eats. It’s the best he’s ever tasted, as always.

Looking up at Pigsy, something in his chest warms. He thinks about his parents and it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to.

“I think they’d have liked you, if you’d met them,” he says, softer than he feels, because he’s never said anything about love but this is as close as he can get.

Pigsy looks up, cheeks glowing, and he smiles and Tang melts, just a little.

The apartment becomes lived in. During one of their shopping trips, Pigsy gets Tang a different outfit, muttering something about Tang needing something to wear when his clothes are being washed. Two outfits becomes three, becomes four, all hung up right beside Pigsy’s sleep shirts and chef coats. Tang gets his own toothbrush.

He buys himself books and they fill up the empty space on the bookshelves. He buys alcohol, stores it in Pigsy’s fridge and laughs off the comments about his poor taste in baijiu. He was never one to settle in, he never thought he could again, but slowly Pigsy’s apartment becomes their apartment and the change in his mind as he thinks of it leaves him wide eyed and spiraling.

Pigsy takes it all in stride, greeting Tang in the morning with something on his face that looks...pleased? Tang doesn’t understand it, and yet it makes his face feel warm when he thinks about it.

The winter months roll in, because while they have a weather tower to regulate weather it does not mean that they can ignore the need for seasons, and the apartment becomes colder.

“Do you not have A/C?” he curls up tight, beneath his blanket, and still shivers.

Pigsy rolls his eyes. “Maybe if you didn’t freeload all the time, I could afford to use it!”

Later, Tang will find this all as a facade. He knows Pigsy would never blame him for being without the funds to pay for heating. In fact, the noodle shop does better in the winter months, because of the desire for warm, filling food to combat the chill. He will later find out that Pigsy forgoes the A/C in his apartment to save up money to give MK a yearly Christmas bonus, both as a present and so MK can heat up his room.

In the moment, however, he just turns away with a huff.

Pigsy sighs. “The bed’s warmer,” he says.

Tang stares, blankly, until it finally hits him what Pigsy is suggesting. “Why, you cad! Trying to bed me when we’ve barely courted!” He leans back on the couch dramatically.

“Shut up!” Pigsy looks very flustered, and Tang grins, leading Pigsy to snap some more. “You were the one complaining about being cold!”

Tang sips his tea, and shrugs. Pigsy turns back to dinner to hide his blushing face.

That night, he moves to sleep in Pigsy’s bed. It’s a pretty large one, it isn’t as if there isn’t room for the both of them. The move is purely practical, after all.

Pigsy sleeps in a tank top and boxers. Tang wonders if the tank top is for his sake. They both get in the bed very stiff, neither wanting to acknowledge what’s happening. Tang curls up under covers, back to Pigsy. The bedroom is indeed warmer. Tang imagines the small heater sitting in the corner is likely the reason.

He turns his head. Pigsy is already asleep, trails of light from the outside signs segmenting his face. He’s snoring. He looks calm.

Tang stares for longer than he thinks he should, before he lets his eyes slide shut.

It becomes routine.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As whole, as Tang reminisces on the moments bringing him to his position, he’s quite glad he decided to stick around. It’s a strange place, this city, full of danger and mystery, now that MK is the monkie kid, now that the demons are free, but at the same time little has changed, and that is something Tang can appreciate. Every morning he settles at the noodle shop and lets life continue, predictable, comfortable.

And maybe that’s his mistake. That he thinks he can coast forever. The sea is many things, but predictable is not one of them.

The downfall starts when Mei mentions that one of her aunts has been trying speed dating.

“She made the mistake of signing up for the straight couple’s night. She told me that when she realized, she left faster than the speed date itself!” Mei taps her fingers on the noodle bar, giggling along with MK at the thought.

“Speed dating doesn’t make sense. I mean, how can you figure out if you like someone in a minute?” MK crosses his arms over his chest and ponders.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I knew I liked you in sixty seconds,” Mei boops Mk on the nose, and he laughs, before making a face. There’s a mixture of emotions there—disgust, confusion, fear?

“Yeah, but that’s different. We’re friends,” he stresses that last word, looking at Mei expectantly. “Just friends.”

“Well, duh! I was just saying,” Mei rolls her eyes.

Tang watches the tension roll out of MK like a breeze. He wonders...but will never waste an opportunity to snark, so he sets the thoughts aside for a moment and leans back on the counter.

“I’m sure I could charm anyone in sixty seconds. Where is this happening, exactly?” he asks.

Mei gives him a look. “I’m pretty sure speed dating isn’t for people who are already taken,” she tells him, and Tang blinks, confusion painting his features.

“What do you mean?” he asks.He jumps when Pigsy’s knife slams hard against the wood of the cutting board, harder than normal.

Tang frowns. “Pigsy, you alright?”

“Peachy,” Pigsy growls out, from the kitchen.

Tang stares, before shrugging it off. Pigsy’s moods aren’t entirely predictable, after all, and it isn’t as if anything terrible has happened today. Pigsy’s cooking smells as heavenly as ever.

He turns back to Mei and MK, but they’re disappearing out the door, MK with the next batch of deliveries in hand. Tang tilts his head to the side in confusion, before shrugging.

Oh well.

Pigsy is still stilted, when they head upstairs that night. He’s quiet during dinner, quiet after dinner, and instead of watching TV he goes back to the kitchen to make a dessert. Tang follows, sitting at the kitchen island, watching how Pigsy shuffles about, glancing occasionally at a recipe. Cocoa powder, flour, eggs, different ingredients come out. The oven is preheated.

“Something’s clearly bothering you,” Tang says, finally.

Pigsy stiffens. Runs a hand down his face. Sighs.

He keeps working, throws the dessert in the oven, sets a careful timer.

Tang waits, and waits.

The kitchen is silent, save for the ambience.

“What is this, Tang?” Pigsy’s voice is hard, hands resting on the kitchen counter, shoulders hunched as he finally speaks up. He sounds exhausted, from days and days of work. Tang frowns. “You steal food from my shop, you sleep in my house—you live with me, for pete’s sake, you—what is this that we have?”

And Tang, Tang doesn’t know what to say.

“Is this even something?”

He’s basked in the freedom to be himself, with Pigsy. A label defines, a label makes you inseparable. Tang comes and goes as he pleases, he doesn’t get pinned down, he’s one and alone, with Pigsy by his side.

He has called himself a ‘father figure’ to MK, but that is inherently different. There’s a degree of separation, with that label. He can still leave, and MK will not be too bereft. MK has others, Tang is just one. Pigsy wants more than that, he doesn’t want the separation, and Tang is always unsure.

“I just—” And there’s something quiet and breaking in Pigsy’s voice.

Tang says nothing.

“Whatever you want from me, Tang, you have it. I’ll-I’ll give you everything, just—”

Blue eyes, like the constant tide of the ocean, meet earth in Tang’s brown ones.

Tang is afraid he could erode.

If he stayed.

What would he become, if he shifted his foundation?

“Is there a point to this?” Pigsy asks. “Or am I just something you keep around? To say you have one?”

Tang knows that he is a man of words, of stories, knows he is Triptaka, is Tang Sanzang, and myriad others placed in the body of a single man, knows he has more knowledge in an inch of his brain than most gain in their entire lives, but he has nothing to say now.

His thoughts halt at the wounded expression on Pigsy’s face.

More than just anger and softer than just hurt, settled between an aching heart and a broken one.

“I…,” he starts, and then his mouth clicks shut, because he is, before and now, a coward eventually.

Whether he is captured by demons or putting his foot down against others’ bad behavior, he falters. And he is terrified, because the swell of his heart, the affection that warms him enough to burn, is too much to bear, to articulate.

So instead, he says nothing at all.

And he knows he’s erred, because Pigsy turns his back as the timer dings.

He pulls the set of mini cakes from the oven, sets them down on the counter with forced gentleness. Tang flinches at the harsh bang of the oven closing. Watches Pigsy’s chest rise and fall with harsh breaths that hitch with an emotion Tang can’t place, before Pigsy swallows, steels himself, stills. Clenches his fists as if readying himself for a fight. Tang doesn’t know what the battle is, wonders what side he’s on.

“Forget it.” He hears, finally, and Tang feels his heart jump in his throat.

The words sound like a relent, like something giving way. It strikes him like a spear through the chest, and he suddenly finds it hard to breathe.

The mini cakes cool in a few minutes, but it may as well be hours with how silent and still the kitchen is, and Pigsy sets one on a plate for Tang, placing it in front of him with a fork. Chocolate lava cake, something Tang had mentioned off handedly as an interesting dessert to try. Of course Pigsy remembered. Why wouldn’t he?

Pigsy vanishes into his room. The door slams shut. Tang eats.

It’s the best he’s ever tasted, like always.

He sleeps on the couch. It’s cold.

Pigsy doesn’t open the shop, the next day. Tang leaves early in the morning, before breakfast, to give him some space, and comes back from his leisurely morning walk to a closed sign hanging on the door. Unlike the last time, MK waves at Tang, hopping down the stairs excitedly. Pigsy gave him the day off, because Pigsy isn’t feeling well, apparently.

Tang sees the worried lines in MK’s expression and promises he will make sure Pigsy is okay. MK runs off, to meet Mei at the arcade, and Tang heads up the stairs. He passes MK’s apartment door and stands in front of Pigsy’s door.

He knocks.

“Pigsy?” He calls, loud enough that he can’t be missed. “It’s me. Can I come in?”

Silence.

Tang doesn’t know how to handle rejection, didn’t think it possible, from Pigsy. In the two years they’ve known each other, he has never been rebuffed. Has never been told, in no uncertain terms, to leave. Pigsy has shouted it without heat, before, but it has never rang true.

He stands outside the door for twenty minutes, trying to swallow something akin to fear crawling up his chest, as he slowly realizes the door isn’t going to open. He waits another ten minutes after that, processing the realization, the pain in his chest.

“Alright,” He says, finally, and he prays Pigsy doesn’t hear how his voice shakes. “Get well soon. I’ll see you in the shop.”

He should demand to be let in. He should kick down the door, do something. Be bold, be brave, courageous.

But he never was a fighter, so he turns on his heel, and leaves what is left of their relationship on the welcome mat.

He walks through the city, again, because he has nothing better to do now. There is no comfort from stepping into the noodle shop and feeling like home. There is no barstool with his name on it, no random bowl of noodles appearing at his seat inconspicuously, no begging for a story from MK, no fond looks from blue eyes in the kitchen.

Tang had settled into routines and expectations. The rug has been pulled from beneath his feet as he tries to grasp the idea that the comforts have crashed into dysfunction. He tracks every minute of the two years he’s spent here, tries to trace the beginning of the end like a true crime investigator, and still, he can’t decipher why the equilibrium shattered.

Change is a product of existence, Comes a memory from his days as a monk. You must let life flow like a river, accepting the directions it will take.

But Tang isn’t a monk anymore, and he is not flowing like a river or any such nonsense that sounds far more like what Sandy would say. He is analytical, he is intelligent, he is knowledgeable. Despite all of that, he is stumped by this situation, by what he is to do.

The answer, of course, is the simplest, but Tang is pretending not to be ignoring it, because acknowledging the solution means making a choice he can’t undo. To decide if he wants this to be set in stone. Can he tie himself down like this, can he make that choice to stay, forever if it comes to it?

At the same time, hasn’t he already? Just a day without being able to go into the noodle shop leaves him aimless. A day without Pigsy and he is lost, without much to do or see. He has centered himself about the warm air of noodles and the gruff smile of the chef making them.

And that is so, so terrifying. When you give everything, when someone is your everything, what happens when they leave? He’s dealt with that enough with his parents, and to become a pair, to be a part of something, he doesn’t think he has the strength for it.

But Pigsy gives and gives, and promised Tang everything, if only Tang would stay. And Tang is a coward, but not enough to ruin something so simple, so kind, and so honest.

He makes a decision, and heads to the bank.

The next day, the noodle shop opens. Tang is there when it does, settling into his barstool without fanfare. He follows Pigsy’s movements with sharp eyes, notes the rumpled form of his shirt, how his pants aren’t tucked into his dress shoes, how his feet shuffle against the tile instead of stomping with purpose. Pigsy moves slow, turns to look at Tang and has bags under his eyes—or could they be red from crying? Tang isn’t sure.

His heart aches, as Pigsy regards him with something like heartbreak. Pigsy says nothing, turns back to his work, and Tang watches.

Step one.

He heads to the market between the lunch and dinner rushes, picks out the ingredients from memory. He’s walked with Pigsy enough times to know what it is that he has to get. He comes back to the shop with an armful of grocery bags, heading upstairs to their apartment. Pigsy never locks it during the workday, and Tang uses that fact and knowledge to his advantage.

He has no idea how to do this, but he chops the vegetables and meat and sets the water to boil. Brings forth the memories of two years of watching Pigsy make the same thing over and over, and maybe looks up a recipe or two on his phone for reference.

By the time Pigsy comes upstairs, when the shop closes, it’s ready. Tang pours the servings into two bowls, and nearly jumps and drops everything when the door opens.

“Welcome home,” he says, braver than he feels.

Pigsy stares at him, at the bowl of steaming broth, and sets his chef’s hat on its hook. He pulls off his shoes, puts up his chef’s coat, leaving him in a t-shirt and slacks.

Tang watches Pigsy’s movements instead of thinking about how to approach the situation. He gets a little distracted, until Pigsy hops up onto one of the island chairs, pulling a bowl towards himself. Tang sits across from him, waiting for Pigsy to take a sip.

Pigsy takes the chopsticks offered, as well as the spoon. He takes a sip. His face remains carefully neutral.

Tang takes a sip a few moments after. He promptly sputters into his bowl, and laughs.

“God, this is terrible!” he can’t stop laughing, and he can see a smile peeking at the edges of Pigsy’s mouth. “I tried to make it like yours, but I guess I’m coming up short,” he glances at Pigsy, looks him up and down.

Pigsy’s face is dusted with a pleased blush. “Shaddup. And hey, it ain’t worse than my first attempt at cooking.”

Tang snorts at that one. “I doubt that. But, do tell. I don’t think you’ve ever told me why you decided to become a cook in the first place, anyway.”

This is the start. Tang makes Pigsy a meal, and Pigsy tells him a story.

That night, he sleeps next Pigsy, like usual, and traces the way the moonlight sets upon Pigsy’s face. He needs to do more. He needs to be more, and he’s pretty sure financial support would be somewhat helpful, so he schemes.

Step two.

A few days later, as the air between them settles into something like normal, he appears one afternoon, change in his pocket and bills in his wallet.

“A bowl of noodles, please.” He sets the money on the counter. It’s enough for at least three bowls of noodles, but that’s by design.

“Keep the change.” He evene winks, like it’s a joke

Pigsy eyes the money and then gets the most offended look on his face, as expected. Before he can make a move to either argue or even respond, Tang pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and explains.

“Didn’t you know? This month is my charity month. I go to different establishments and pay to keep them afloat.”

Pigsy rolls his eyes. “Pshh, I don’t need your charity to keep this place runnin’! Pigsy’s Noodles is a thriving establishment,” he rebuffs.

“So you’re refusing my service?” Tang responds, like a challenge.

He raises a brow, and watches as Pigsy gets redder and redder.

“One bowl of noodles, coming right up,” Pigsy manages through gritted teeth.

Tang hides a laugh behind his hand as Pigsy scoops up the money and grumbles, shoving two of the bills into the cash register and one into the tip jar.

Because MK had been bemoaning a lack of sketchbook paper, a lack of money for replacing such, and just like every time MK talks about something he wants, off handed or to complain because that’s how he deals, Pigsy will take some of the money that should go to the shop into the tip jar when MK doesn’t look, smiling to himself when MK excitedly realizes that, thanks to the tip jar, he can get what it was he thought he couldn’t—

Because Pigsy gives and gives and gives, pieces of himself scattered across and holding together the people he’s chosen to keep close, regardless if Pigsy is the one who ends up falling apart in the end, and Tang wants to fill up the spaces that Pigsy has lost from his generosity.

Tang takes his bowl of noodles and smirks, like he’s won. That night, when they’re sitting on the couch and watching TV, Pigsy leans his head on Tang’s shoulder.

“You coulda just said you wanted to start payin’ rent,” he mutters.

Tang snickers. “Where’s the fun in that? You got so red, I thought you were going to become a tomato.”

At that, Pigsy sits up.

“I’ll show you a tomato—c’mere!”

Maybe it’s a bit dangerous to challenge someone who knows all of your ticklish spots. Tang laughs until he cries, and concedes to Pigsy’s victory.

Step three doesn’t really register. He doesn’t think about it, because the first two steps have brought him back into that comfortable routine. Maybe he might have fallen into the same bad habits, if not for his hyperawareness of Pigsy’s moods in the following weeks. He doesn’t want to miss something, like he did before. He wants to be attentive, be kind.

He wants Pigsy to never again think of or ask the questions he did, that night. He wants Pigsy to know, immediately, what they are. Even if Tang is afraid to define it.

It’s a typical day at the shop, but Pigsy is a bit more tired than normal. Some days, this happens. Pigsy would never hire another chef, even though he has enough business to afford it, and being the only cook in a bustling restaurant means little breaks and consistent exhaustion.

Tang still makes them dinner, most nights. He tries a new recipe each day, because why not? Pigsy takes to each one like a food critic, and his descriptions have Tang in stitches every time—

“I never thought you could turn broccoli into soup.”

“Okay, so I cooked it too long!”

“You liquified a vegetable! Without blending! That’s like...did you use magic on this? Tang, did you use magic on this.”

—He’s not a very good cook, yet, but Pigsy eats anything he makes anyway.

Today, Pigsy is already tired, and he clearly doesn’t have the energy to deal with an annoying customer.

He has to anyways.

“This isn’t what I ordered last time! I ordered your original noodle bowl two weeks ago, and it tasted far better than this!” The irate woman slams her empty bowl on the counter.

Tang wonders if she understands the irony of complaining about a meal she finished.

“Ma’am, I make every bowl of noodles the same. I’m the only cook here. You either ordered somethin’ else, or your taste buds changed in two weeks.” Pigsy isn’t polite to customers like these, but Tang has to commend him for holding back, for still calling her ‘Ma’am’. Tang has a few different names he’d call her.

“I know what I ordered, and my tastebuds didn’t change. You clearly made it wrong! I demand a refund immediately!” She shouts in his face.

Pigsy goes from pink to red. “Look, lady, you finished your meal. I ain’t giving you back the money for shit you ate.” He spits, and she leans back, aghast.

“The nerve!” She leans back, aghast. “I don’t know what I expected from a pig—”

She freezes as a pair of chopsticks sticks its way between the two angry faces.

“Excuse me,” Tang starts.

His glasses flash, and he doesn’t bother standing. His arm divides the space, as he leans back in his chair with a bowl in his free hand. He pushes her back, ignores the look of confusion on Pigsy’s face. “I suggest you get over yourself. This behavior certainly isn’t doing anything for your looks.”

The woman leans back, crosses her arms.

“And you are?” She hisses.

“I’m his partner,” Tang says, and surprises himself with how easily the title falls out of his mouth. “And you don’t get to talk to him that way. If anyone is acting in poor taste, it’s you.”

Pigsy’s face is slack, his eyes are wide, and the red of anger on his face has given way to the dusty rose Tang has come to expect as Pigsy’s blush.

The woman opens her mouth, finger raised. Tang raises his eyebrow in waiting. But then she huffs, turns on her heel, and leaves.

Tang doesn’t give her a second thought, turning back to his own bowl of noodles—which have tasted the same in the two years he’s been eating here, so she’s full of it, clearly—before glancing over at Pigsy, who is staring at him with eyes full of something.

He has never seen Pigsy’s eyes shine like that before.

His face warms, and he buries it in his scarf and bowl. Pigsy smiles, and turns back to work.

That night, they’re sitting on the couch after eating another concoction that could barely be called food— “You’re getting better at this.” “You don’t have to lie to me.” “Bold of you to assume I would spare your feelings when it comes to your cooking skills.”—and Pigsy’s hand slides away from his lap and rests on top of Tang’s. Casual.

“My partner, huh?” Pigsy says over the buzz of the television.

Tang flushes. “It seemed an appropriate word to use.”

“Sure.”

Pigsy’s voice holds a laugh, and Tang could leave it here, he could. It would be far too easy to settle, to let it fall complacent.

But Tang has let the ocean lap at his heels, and now all he wants to do is dive.

“Hey,” he turns Pigsy’s face towards his, and—

Pigsy’s lips are warm.

Pigsy’s eyes are blown wide, and Tang closes his quickly, worried about the response, worried about Pigsy’s reaction.

Dimly, in the back of his head, he thinks ‘It’s the best he’s ever tasted’ and he has to squash the laugh that bubbles up his throat, because it isn’t appropriate right now. Pigsy's snout practically crushes his nose, and the sharp hairs on his face prickle Tang's skin.

He breaks away. Pigsy’s smile is blinding, a rare event. His face is flushed, both of them are flushed and Tang fidgets with his glasses. There’s a beat of silence, as they stare at each other, before they both turn back to the TV to avoid the ever so awkward eye contact.

They watch whatever’s on, for a minute of crushing silence.

“Alright,” Pigsy finally sighs, long sufferingly fond, and he leans against Tang as if tang were his rock. The ocean crashes against the sea, and the rock stays steady. “Guess I’m stuck with you.”

Tang inclines his head so it’s resting on top of Pigsy’s. The rock erodes, and becomes something new. Moves with the ocean, given enough time.

“Where else would I get free food?”

Pigsy laughs.

#lego monkie kid #freenoodleshipping #Tang #Pigsy #kitkat1003 #monkie kid tang #monkie kid pigsy

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cxmetery-gates · 4 years ago

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OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS - DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON

CHAPTER SIX: PICKUP TRUCK THOUGHTS

SUMMARY: Lynn takes a moment of solitude to put things into perspective, all thanks to a friend’s truck and some clouds. WORD COUNT: 2.8k NOTE: Not me falling of the face of the internet for a couple months. Whoops! WARNINGS: dark!tom hiddleston, teacher!tom hiddleston

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS MASTERLIST

"YOU REALIZE IT'S A SERIOUS problem at this point, right?"

"At least it's not crack."

The two familiar voices catch both mine and Gabe's attention. With the doors open, legs sprawled out wherever they're comfy, and some early 2000s alternative music jamming from the speakers, we genuinely look like high school delinquents. All we're missing is a cigarette hanging from our lips.

My back aches as I pry my upper half to sit up straight, a chorus of popping following my movement. I brightly grin at River and Ellie and my feet reach the black pavement. It appears Ellie just rolled her eyes at River's sassy remark. I begin to ask what they were talking about before I notice something being shoved back in the boy's backpack: his new Obi-Wan Kenobi lightsaber. Part of me isn't surprised, but the other half is wondering what reason he has to carry it around at school. Regardless of the reason, we all have our quirks: it took me until the eighth grade to leave my replica of Harry Potter's wand at home.

Geeky things, I guess?

I can only guess what River was telling Ellie when it comes to his devotion to Star Wars. There isn't an existing number to count how often River and I find ourselves on the topic of space battles and the Skywalkers.

"What's up, friendos?" I ask as they draw closer. A sudden chilly breeze lifts my hair and bumps along my skin. It's almost a frustrating sensation, it being the middle of August. It looks like I'm the only one who feels it, as my teeth are the only ones that chatter. Since my arms are tightly holding each other, I barely have time to react to Ellie's next reaction.

Ellie drags her feet dramatically until she goes limp in my arms. "I wanna go home and sleep."

I stumble back at the weight added, wriggling my arms to hold her steady. The last thing I need on the first day of school is a concussion. "Christ— well maybe if you get off, we can take you home."

River piles his backpack into the back of Gabe's truck, the loud thump startling Ellie, and looks at us with a confused stare. "Weren't– Weren't we supposed to hang out today?"

The girl in my arms rises to her feet, groaning. "Shit, I forgot. My mom said she wants me back home after school as soon as possible. You know, groundings and all."

"Next time, don't get into an accident." Gabe sends her a smirk.

Ellie narrows her eyes and mocks his response, crossing her arms and leaning on one leg. A small chortle parts my lips as I lean up against the truck next to River. After her bickering, Ellie continues. "Go get ice cream or something in my memory. I just have to get back before I'm killed, which should be any day now."

"I call your funeral playlist," I reply. Looking up while my fingers stroke my chin comically, I add, "A ton of 80s pop with a dash of Gaga?"

Booping my nose, Ellie smiles. "You know me too well."

We all file into Gabe's small truck— well, almost all of us. Since the truck is a three-seater and police like to patrol this area, there is always a sacrifice who gets to claim the back of the car. This time, it happens to be me. Once I was lying flat on my back, a blue tarp was pulled over my body, coming right above my nose. Oh, the perks of old, short pick-up trucks roaming a town with endless police...

Sliding open the window, Gabe's voice calls out. "You good back there?"

"Yeah, I'm fucking peachy," I reply.

There's the sound of laughter before the engine kicks on. At that moment, my paranoia starts to kick in, starting with my heart beating fast in my chest and palms getting sweaty. Not once have any of us gotten caught, but I can't help but think the day we are, it's my ass going to jail. I've never bothered to look at the laws relating to seat belts in other states, but here, the law is highly enforced. Not only would I get fined and definitely put into a cell, but I have no doubt Gabe would endure the same fate.

Nice way to put yourself in one of these states, I chastise myself.

I almost groan, but I can't be sure if I'll cause one of the friends up front to worry. So, I exhale and inhale rhythmically like I was taught. Looking straight ahead, all I can see are blue skies and puffy white clouds. Occasionally, a tree or two will enter the scenery. I'm barely blinking as I try to put shapes to the clouds, some more impossible than others. Despite having an imaginative mind, the figures aren't creating a picture for me to follow.

I like to remember how easy it was as a child to create something out of nothing. An empty napkin roll wasn't just cardboard; it was a telescope that needed color. Our dolls weren't acting on our behalf; they were doing it themselves and showing us their lives. Every cloud wasn't just a random array of water droplets but rather, a visual story to be told. I want to know what causes all of us to lose that form of innocence. Ways of thinking like pessimism or optimism, that's easy: once too many shitty things start to happen more than the good, one is likely to form a biased view or vice versa. But, why do we stop playing with imaginary friends? Or act out intense battles on the playground? Even the smallest blip of innocence, like cloud-watching, becomes warped.

Sometimes, it's easy to pick out that moment in our own lives where we find ourselves becoming grown-ups and leaving childhood behind, but the shitty part is that it isn't just me or Ellie, River, or Gabe who go through trials. It's not just the kid who loses a parent or the girl who was taken advantage of. Everyone has their wars. And in the end, we lose, becoming a part of the system that inflicts these damages.

These damages I speak of tear us apart. They mold us into shapes beyond recognition. No longer a funny shape or a distorted animal in the sky, but dark, heavy, and so close to bursting. And when we finally let go, after all the waiting and rolling, we seem to explode, leaking and oozing our pain, our torment, us. And when it's over? What's left? I guess there are two options: remain on the ground to seep into further nothingness, or rise once more, only to break again, again, and again. But life is such torment and full of trials, is it not?

Funny how staring at a cloud can put life into perspective.

My brain is overrun by these thoughts that I don't even realize Gabe's truck is rolling to a stop. I finally take notice when car doors swing open then shut.

"Wake up, sleeping beauty," River says leaning over the side of the truck to get a look at me.

Rolling my eyes with a grin, I swat at his shoulder, which misses as he recoils. "Shut up, loser." I sit up, tossing the tarp to the side as I move to stand. River smirks and offers his hands to help me down. Without hesitation I take them, swinging one leg over the side and the other following before I made a short leap to the ground. Because neither of us apparently can avoid embarrassment, we're both holding each other's hands after I land. A rosy blush spreads across his entire face— no doubt mine as well— before I take the initiative to lean backwards, focusing on Ellie who crawls from the side door.

"Speaking of losers," Gabe sighs. I can't help but feel the reddening in my cheeks, assuming this asshole is talking about River and me, but I notice he's looking at Ellie, now swinging her backpack around one shoulder in her driveway.

She notices that all of us are looking, causing her to freeze. "Why does everyone hate me today?"

I smile bringing her into a goofy hug. "We just miss you. Don't get into any more accidents, please?"

"Yeah, yeah," she snorts, hugging me back to the best of her ability, considering I have her arms pinned down at an odd angle. "Alright, leave my driveway before I actually get you guys killed."

Gabe, River, and I say our goodbyes before filing into the white truck, heading God-knows-where as a worn-down engine sparks to life. Looking over at River, who sits to my right in the passenger seat, I send him a glare that he doesn't see since his eyes are focused on what lies beyond the window— or lack thereof.

While his hair barely covers his neck, mine flows down to my mid-back, meaning having windows rolled all the way down and speeding down a highway won't lead to the best outcomes for my hair. But I can't complain too much: River's hair going crazy in the wind is both cute and a bit funny. A small smile graces my features before a thin lock of hair enters my lips.

Glancing over at the driver, I notice how only locks of hair toward the ends move slowly despite the windows rolled all the way down, as if the strands are wearing a shield against the wind. I wonder how Gabriel keeps his hair so still before making the dumbfounding realization that he wears that beanie 24/7 and who knows how long he goes without washing his perfect hair. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen the boy without the hat. I guarantee no one would recognize him without it.

"So, where are we heading?" Gabriel asks when we reach the stoplight before entering the populated part of town.

I exhale, leaning my head on the headrest of the seat. "Well, I for one could go for something frozen. Maybe a burger, too."

"Didn't you just eat lunch?" River asks, humorously smiling in my direction.

"And had coffee literally less than an hour ago," Gabe adds.

Sending a blank look to River (whose smile widens) then over to Gabe, his eyes never leaving the stretch of road ahead of him (at least one person in the group can do that), I huff, my eyes shutting closed and I bring my shoulders up into a shrug. "I don't know what you both have against me and my food and drink consumption, but you better knock it off."

There's a small hum of laughter to my right, sending a slight shiver down my neck. "If we left you alone for a week, there's no telling how much you'd put in your system," River tells me as if I don't know that already.

"Yeah, yeah. Alright, Bob and Jillian, I don't need you to berate me."

══════════════════

Twenty minutes later, the three of us find ourselves outside a burger joint. In one hand, I have a burger waiting to be devoured and in the other is a frozen strawberry lemonade. Nothing says summer like this combination. We're sitting the parking lot eating our meals, more specifically in the back of the truck. From my phone, I have a playlist plainly called "Chill" playing from the nearly-blown speakers.

"I never thought food could taste so good," I moan as the burger slides down my throat.

"You're acting like you haven't eaten in a week."

Sending Gabe an eye-roll, I reply, "It might as well have been."

There's a moment of silence before River brings up a topic not discussed in a couple weeks. "Do you guys wanna come over and jam for a bit sometime this week? We haven't done anything in a while."

One summer a few years back, the trio of us learned we can play different instruments. I have been playing the guitar and drums since I was younger, thanks to a musically gifted grandfather. Gabe and River both had a knack for guitar too, though Gabe had more experience with the bass guitar and River had some training with piano. While our jam sessions are nothing too serious, as none of us want to be in a band or write our own songs, it's become a fun and stress-reducing way to hang out when silence would otherwise fill the atmosphere. The last time, we figured out how to play the theme songs of our favorite movies using a ukulele and bongos. It was something I didn't need to hear, but I'm glad I did.

I nod my head. "Yeah, we can this weekend if we aren't being drowned in homework by that point."

Gabe also agrees with a nod, his mouth full of fries. "It's a maybe from me: Mom might need to borrow the truck since hers is wearing down."

River turns his dark brown eyes over to me, capturing an embarrassing scene as lettuce pokes between my stuffed lips. Great. "Well, I guess I can hang out with you if someone can't show."

While I playfully punch his arm, I send a look over to Gabe who hides a smirk in his straw. He catches me looking as River goes on about one of his classes. Sending me a wink, I narrow my eyes knowingly: his mom just got a brand new truck. Mr. Matchmaker goes back to this food, making a statement on how hot River's finance teacher is, causing the boy to make a very uncomfortable face.

Despite the long talks we shared in the back of Gabe's truck, I find myself zoning out hardcore once again. I can't figure out why exactly my mind had wondered, but I do know where. My thoughts go back to Trinity's face, remembering how she would sit next to me against the side of the truck the very few times she decided to make time for my friends. There's a ghost of warmth in my palm like fingers squeezing when the short snippet of a memory expels from deep inside my mind. I don't know why I thought of it. It just appeared, causing a droplet of woe to fill my gut.

Like my friends have told me before, I need to let this go. There's no use in holding on to something, or rather someone who isn't coming back, especially someone who was never good for me in the first place. Glancing up, I spy on River munching and talking with Gabe. A blush covers my cheeks when I remember how utterly embarrassing it was when I broke down in front of him over a stupid girl. He told me there are worse things to worry about.

"Like climate change?" I asked, sniffling into a pillow. I hope he washed it after that encounter. Hell, he needed to lysol everything down after my mopey ass walked through the place.

River smiled warmly at me, pulling me into a giant bear hug. Sometimes, I want to ask for one of those hugs again. "I was going to say people who like pineapple on pizza, but climate change is also a concern."

I remember crying not a second later, but that was due to the thought of polar bears facing extinction.

Contrary to knowing how wonderful my three best friends are, I'm also aware that there are certain things I can't share. I don't want to overbear them with my problems that should have been solved months ago. The fact that I'm still getting small flashbacks and thoughts of her is pathetic, and I'm aware of that fact. On the other hand, it isn't like my group of friends will give up and leave if I spill my guts, right? I shouldn't be scared of expression my thoughts, feelings, and emotions to my closest friends. And yet, here I sit, undecided on what to do.

Christ, do I need to get my priorities straight.

When my eyes break away from their trance, all I see is Gabe and River entering a heated discussion, about what I'm not sure. With my thoughts still in a bit of limbo, I'm shocked back to reality when they both leap from either side of the vehicle, rushing to pull items from their bags.

Under any other normal circumstance, it would be concerning to see two dudes arguing one moment then reaching into their bags the next. I'm willing to bet the next logical calculation for a stranger would have been to get away, fearing the queue for guns or knives. But I know these losers. Even if they are fighting or wanting to kill each other, there is only one way they can settle their differences.

"Soon, you will see the way of the Jedi," River exclaims while thrashing his blue lightsaber through the air.

"Shut the fuck up, you nerd!" Gabe flicks out a red lightsaber, taunting the other.

"Oh, my God," I say with no emotion in my tone, watching as red and blue shamelessly slash at each other in battery-produced light in a burger joint parking lot.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

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#obsessive teachings #dark!tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston x ofc #teacher!tom hiddleston #loki #high school #stalking #obsessed love #obsessive #dark!fic

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bunny9girl · 4 years ago

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Age Gap... AU

One Piece~

♡The characters are all between 27-29 unless said otherwise

♡The s/o is between 16-18

Warning: ...Kissing and Cuddles? PDA, nakedness and language.

Part 2

Exstra 😱😵🖊 {At some point I couldn't stop writing.}

Portgas D. Ace 🔥

🔥You met Ace at school during one of your art classes.

🔥He came in to do a favor for one of your teachers, to give tips on art and give you guys professional guidance and at some point he posed as a model.

🔥Yes a model !!!

🔥Soooo you kinda got to see him naked the first time you met, he was opened with all his god like built.

🔥When the class was done sketching. He caught a glimpse of your work seeing as it wasn't nearly done, so he offered to stay longer for you to finish.

🔥God damn you wish he didn't, him being there is the very reason your sketch wasn't done. It was too embarrassing to look at a naked man infront of you and sketch.

🔥Not knowing which to concentrate on?

🔥Ace saw that, and offer to help you like exstra lessons at his home maybe improve the areas you lack at.

🔥And you gladly took that offer.

🔥At some point after teaching you for half a year. You started just acting like a couple without knowing when it actually happened.

🔥Ace loves his s/o with every bit of his heart.

🔥You spend most of you free time with each other, either sketching each other or chilling playing video games or talking.

🔥Ace is a professional artist, with both a degree and diploma in practical arts, so ofcourse his art is going to so much more advanced than yours.

🔥You love staring at him while he paints.

🔥Ace loves not wearing a shirt proves he is comfortable in his own skin, he also got his s/o into wearing less clothes.

🔥With the less clothes you got use to drawing him only in boxers.

🔥And somehow you guys turned into that couple that's completely fine with walking around each other naked in his apartment alone.

🔥Ace's job is something he loves doing while having fun. Yes he does teach arts at a university.

🔥Remember your still in high school not in a college/university.. yet.

🔥Ace is a very clingy man he will hug you a lot even when his naked. He gives you a lot of pet names he's favorite is, teachers pet.

🔥He doesn't do small half ass kisses. Its either long and passionate or heavily horny make out.

🔥Ace's s/o loves the tattoos on his skin, trenching her/his fingers over his arm or back.

🔥Ace reminds you of a cowboy though to his country style and mostly the hat in his bedroom.

🔥Yes you have met his friends especially Marco, you didn't mind hanging out with them their nice people and fun.

🔥You met Ace's family the first week he started teaching you. You met his two brothers and his Father that goes by White Beard.

🔥The second White Beard met you, he told Ace to never let you go or he will beat the crab out of him

🔥Ace took it to heart and loved you even more.

🔥You never really told your parents that your dating Ace. One day you just brought him home and hanged out in your room, at some point they just assume you guys are dating and they we're all right with it.

🔥When it comes to drawing Ace, you love to draw his face the most, make it look like his freckles are stars.

🔥His black hair and freckles are the most notable features on him.

🔥Your first date, wasn't that bad except at a random part he fell asleep

🔥In the beginning when he started teaching you, you though he was just tired but it happens frequently so it made you worried.

🔥He calmed your nerves telling you he has narcolepsy and his fine, might fall asleep at random times but his okay.

🔥It made you relax, and questioned him if there's a way to stop it but he only shook his head and dropping down on you snoring as he sleep hug you.

🔥You can only ask him help with art work/homework anything related to art otherwise not he can't help, he'd be just as dumbfounded as you.

🔥He inspired you to get a tattoo of your own name in your (Body part), but he was against the idea of a random person touching so he did it himself.

🔥Accidentally spelled one letter wrong so he had to cross it out, you strated yapping at him that he did it purposely.

🔥He made it up to you by giving you another tattoo on your (Body part) that was your favorite (animal of your choice/any tattoo of your choice.)

🔥You guys never gets mistaken for relatives or family members even friends, cause Ace's is all over you, making out even sucking on your neck.

🔥But they do know you guys have an age difference but they don't know how much

🔥His already in his late twenties, and doesn't care as long as you are with him and love him for who he is rather than his age he'll love you back.

🔥You were happy afterwards.

🔥PDA *Public display of affection*

🔥He would hold your hand even kiss you.

🔥But he loves wrapping an arm around your waist having you lean against his body.

🔥Signaling others that you are taken and your his property.

🔥PDA kissing😏😳 just like I said, Ace only allows long and passionate or heavily horny make out kissing.

🔥He makes sure sexual tension rise when your with him, his happy knowing you desire him, so does he.

🔥The fire in your relationship might take a very long time to whither away.

🔥He loves you dearly.

Exstra exstra!!!

Portgas D. Shanks 🍺

🍺Unlike the others Shanks is way older. Reaching 37.

🍺But very childish and energetic.

🍺You decided to take on a part time job just to own a little side cash for yourself, you start working as a waitress/waiter at an old diner in town.

🍺One day Shanks and his friends came in after work to hang out and drink the place dry having some sort of celebration.

🍺And his glad he came along, (His friends might've made him go unwilling) but his glad one glimpse of you and he already knows what's for dinner on the menu.

🍺At first glance he didn't seem very approachable, maybe it was his appearance the three scars over his eye or maybe his big god like built

🍺But once spoken to him he passed off a kind caring and loving atmosphere his actions where so nice he even apologized for accidentally touching your hand

🍺Through out the night he shot complements and cheesey pick up lines, that made you either giggle or blush.

🍺You where kinda sad when he left. (or rather his friends dragged his black out ass out of the diner)

🍺You really wanted his number or at least his name.

🍺The next day he came in for breakfast, you were lucky to catch him, some how you talked the day over with him.

🍺So on he came in everyday, either for breakfast lunch or dinner, which pleased you very much.

🍺on some occassions you joined him, being able to enjoy the food you cooked and seeing him enjoy your cooking as well as the beer you pour for him.

🍺One evening your co worker pointed out that you must have been enjoying your dates.

🍺You were a little confused but decided to ask Shanks himself

🍺"Yeah, we've been going on dates for awhile now, why?"

🍺"u-umm?" That was your only response.

🍺You just let go, and decided to start calling yourself Shanks's girlfriend/boyfriend.

🍺He made sure you never regret it

🍺Later on you guys hanged out more outside of your part time job, and more at his house

🍺He began loving you more and more each day he's kinda a clingy guy

🍺He loves holding you in his arm and kissing you all over your face and neck.

🍺Only way he can show you how much he respects and care even loves you.

🍺He was happy that you didn't back away when you saw his missing arm.

🍺But you love how he still cable of a lot of things and doesn't need anyone's pity

🍺It makes you few him in a new light

🍺But sometimes he takes advantage of his disability and asks for your help, like putting on his shirt or drying his hair, a lot of other more minor stuff that might give you naughty thoughts.

🍺You know exactly what he's doing, but you get to enjoy it too.

🍺He can't help but laugh at you blushing at his bare skin, he loves you trying to be innocent

🍺Shanks has great friends their all lively like him and loves to drink as much as him. Whenever you come over to his place you might meet 3 or 7 of his friends enjoying a beer and BBQ.

🍺They respect Shanks very much, and is happy for him that he found someone that can deal with his childlike nature and take care of him at the same time

🍺When you are hanging out with them, they always tease Shanks and you making Shanks fall in a fit of laughter and you blush madly in his lap.

🍺School work/homework is something you can easily ask Shanks about he might not have all the answers but he knows more than he lets on.

🍺So at times you get better grades than you did before, the way he explained some things made it easier hand that you played more attention to your hot older boyfriend.

🍺But Shanks doesn't have much family left and never saw why you need to meet those his not close too.

🍺You just simply forgot to introduce him to your parents.

🍺Until it back fired, you forgetting to introduce him made the situation even more difficult.

🍺You just mindlessly invited him to a one of your family BBQ's and he cheerfully agreed.

🍺Once he came by the weekend that's when you remember that you forgot to introduce him to your parents before your family and distance relatives and family friends.

🍺You sucked it up and acted normal, which displeased Shanks since you didn't sit on his lap or kiss him much not even hugs.

🍺At first he thought you were embarrassed of him but saw you running around handing drinks and snacks to those who just use you as an little servant girl/boy, too lazy to get off their own asses and do it themselves.

🍺He also knows you have a hard time saying no, since you are a good person and very nice

🍺He decided to deal with the matter himself.

🍺Place down his beer, he grabbed your little ass that was about to hurry pass him, pulling you down onto his lap hugging you to his chest.

🍺Your tired body automatically rest on him laying your face in his neck

🍺Not a few seconds later you two started having a nice loving conversation he made you giggle at his words. Rubbing his hand in circles on your back.

🍺Making you love him more.

🍺That's when your mother/mom came by angry calling you lazy for not helping the others around.

🍺Before you could get up and back to "helping" the family, Shanks grip around your waist tighten.

🍺"Listen here, miss. I'm not a rude guy but the table is right over there, now I haven't seen (y/n) for entire week cause of my business trip. Now they can serve themselves, or can they all not walk."

🍺Your mother/mom got furious now turning to you.

🍺"Whose this?" She simply pointed at the red head

🍺"(Y/n)'s man... lover... Boyfriend. Which do you prefer miss?"

🍺"I forbid you to see him ever again."

🍺"You can't. (Y/n) is 18 an gown adult so she/he can make her/his own decisions. You have no say in the matter."

🍺Your mother/mom huffed crossing her arms stomping away. Not liking him one bit

🍺Your Dad/father couldn't help but laugh liking Shanks even more.

🍺This is the kind of guy he'd let his daughter/son marry one that can stand up to your mother/mom stupid shit.

🍺You thought that was the end but the tables quickly turned on your mother/mom.

🍺Shanks is truly the one for you.

🍺So having him meet your parents didn't go all that well especially with your mother/mom.

🍺The things you love about Shanks ofcourse his personality and body.

🍺But his red hair is what you love the most, running your fingers through the red locks makes you happy all the time. Is truly a beautiful color.

🍺Red has a range of symbolic meanings, including life, health, vigor, war, courage, anger, love and religious.

🍺You even asked if its his natural hair color and you got a yes, he even proofed with some baby pictures of himself.

🍺Which you adore the ones that his near your age.

🍺But you will always love the him who is in front of you the him you met and fell in love with.

🍺Shanks has a pretty good job, he is the owner of one of the biggest four business company in the world.

🍺Yes! That means his quite rich. Your set for life marrying him.

🍺That's where some of his friends teases him, calling him your Sugar Daddy.

🍺You have never really asked him for anything not even a penny. If you want money you make your own.

🍺A gift, you refuse any gift unless it is his love and affection that you'd gladly take.

🍺Shanks drinks alot sometime you question his liver. When his drunk his someone that anyone would like around a happy drunk, his not sad or angry, just ×10 more cheerful and clingy.

🍺PDA *Public display of affection*

🍺He wants bear hugs daily. Once your in his lap he doesn't let you out for a long time same goes for your butterfly kisses he wants them daily.

🍺He'd die without your attention.

🍺Your eyes must always meet his.

🍺PDA kissing 🍻😚~ Shanks doesn't mind cheek kisses or a make out session, he thinks it's brave of you that he won't take you then and there.

🍺At home DA *Display of affection*

🍺He loves when you leave a trail of kisses on his neck down to his lower abdomen, it happens rarely but he just loves being under your touch

🍺The little things you do for him makes him wanna keep you for himself.

***

The End.

Maybe~😏

#one piece #fanfic #male reader #fem reader #one piece fanfic #portgas d ace #portgas d shanks #Shanks #Ace

51 notes · View notes

perriewinklenerdie · 5 years ago

Text

Evening conversations (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

A/N: Hello, hello, hello! How are we feeling, fam? PB delivered, we finally did it guys. I, of course, what else is new, couldn't help myself, and had to attempt a rewrite. Added some scenes cause I have no impulse control. Now, we have a few long weeks ahead of us, but it is 1) understandable and 2) so incredibly smart and good of PB to put the health of their people first. We live in hard times, the lives and safety come first. It will fly by, and hopefully, in the meantime, that scary situation is over. Take care of yourselves, guys.

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23738884

Tag list: @paleweasels, @hopelessromantic1352, @kittykatchoices, @valiantlychaoticbarbarian , @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @strawberrwess @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie, @choicesobsessedd, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h

Enjoy! <3

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

Her shoulder comes in contact with Landry’s chest and suddenly her mind is quiet. No amount of shouts or looks thrown her way could puncture the fog that surrounded her for that one moment. It was nothing, and then all at once, it came with double the force, knocking the air out of her lungs.

Both of them tumble to the ground, Claire’s elbow digging into Landry’s ribs, a sharp pain radiating from the point of contact. Before she knows what is happening, a pair of hands grab her by her arms forcefully, fingers digging into her skin, and make a move to pull her up, when a voice booms over the field and next thing she knows, the weight on her back is eased.

“Don’t touch her, you son of a bitch.” His tone is chilling, filled with newly found rage that wouldn’t be easily explained if anyone asked why he was so quick to defend her. Luckily for him, the fight breaks out and his act of protectiveness gets forgotten by everyone but her, too stunned to participate in the insult fest that ensued as a result of her attempt to secure a win for Edenbrook.

It only stops when a very disappointed Naveen scolds them, breaking them all up and sending them on their own way. Claire was getting her clothes out of her bag when she heard his voice again, just behind her back.

“So? Was that worth dragging me down here?” Ethan’s words were slightly slurred, and as soon as she turned around to face him, she knew why. He was holding a cold bottle of beer to his cheek, the skin beneath the glass turning an ugly shade or purple. She winced, feeling a pang of guilt in her chest.

“I regret you getting hurt, but I don’t regret having you here.” She revealed, a proud smirk pulling on the corners of her lips when she thought about a crushing defeat that left Mass Kenmore licking their wounds. “I came to mess them up and I definitely achieved that.”

He smiled without humor, his eyes remaining emotionless. The lines of his face are even more pronounced under the floodlights over the field than normally, making him seem even more tired than usually.

“I got the feeling your head wasn’t really in it tonight.”

“It’s softball. My head was never going to be in it.” he responded matter-of-factly, looking past her. There was something in the way he closed himself off to his surroundings that worried her. Something was off, something was bothering him, and she would be damned if she didn’t try to help him, any way she could.

Her fingers brush against the back of his hand with the softest touch, raising goosebumps up his arm. It was all she dared to do in public, where everyone could see them and draw their own conclusions. Despite all that, the warmth of his skin against hers made her pulse jump, endorphins rushing through her bloodstream rapidly.

“I know it’s more than that. Talk to me, Ethan.” Her face fell, realizing how little they could keep from each other, despite their best efforts to keep things professional and keep their private affairs separate from their work. His gaze made its way back to her eyes, and the depth of his yearning is as strong as her own. When he speaks, its with the softest tone she’s heard from him in a while, almost like he didn’t care about all the other doctors that were passing them by.

“Not here.”

“Then where?”

His eyes flashed with something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He finally let out a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “… I suppose you could come home with me.” a muscle on his face twitched like he was about to smile, the line feeling too domestic, too familiar. “I have a new recipe I’ve been looking for an excuse to try.”

He was trying to impress her. He was definitely trying to impress her, she was sure of that. If not because of the way he said it, then because of the way he smiled when she asked, surprised. “You cook?”

“I do. Often. I find it very meditative, actually. It always helps me get my thoughts in order.”

“Okay, now I’m intrigued. Take me home.” She blurted out, then blushed a crimson red when she realized what her sentence carried with it. His lips curled into a warm smile, a reaction she didn’t expect, but wasn’t about to ask questions.

They separated briefly, for just enough time to shower in the locker rooms and change into their casual clothes. When they met again, they walked to his car, picking up their conversation about the patient they had earlier that day.

Ethan opened the door to his apartment, the space as clean and spotless as she remembered it to be. Her eyes got drawn to the view behind the windows, the curtains being thrown open only making it easier for her to watch how the lights flickered above the water.

She walked further into the room uncertainly, running her hand along the back of the couch. “So what’s this recipe you’ve been dying to try?”

“Georgian Stuffed Chicken.”

“On a random weeknight?” she asked, surprised that he was willing to go through such a meticulous process when they both knew they had an early shift the next day.

“Correct. Come over here.” He nodded, tilting his head towards the entrance to the kitchen, letting her go first. Following close behind her, he walked over to the fridge and then placed a full chicken and a bowl of butter in front of her.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Claire’s voice went up an octave when she voiced her concern. She did know how to cook, she was pretty good at it too, but measured up to Ethan, she was almost certain that she was a novice. He grinned at her slightly.

“Get massaging.”

Her moves were insecure and awkward, not entirely convinced that she was doing it correctly, and she was completely right, for she heard him laughing under his breath as he watched her struggle.

“You’ll have to do better than that. Rub it right in. Full coverage.” He instructed her, then turned towards his own work. His body seemed completely at ease and strangely content when he occupied himself with chopping ingredients and sautéing them in a pot.

“Ethan, just how long have you been a secret chef?”

“For about as long as I can remember.” He answered her question, wiping his hands on the towel he had by his side.

“As in… you had an Easy-Bake Oven?” she tried imagining little Ethan helping around the kitchen, the vision of it endearing more than she anticipated.

“As in my Dad liked to cook, and he let me help him with all the easy parts as soon as I was old enough.” He set the record straight, his face not revealing any emotions connected to the memories.

“That’s painfully adorable.” Claire giggled, leaning against the counter, her eyes focused on him. “Did little Ethan have a special apron? Or a little chef’s hat?”

“… No.”

The scent of their food being made filled the air around them, occupying her senses for a moment. Ethan turned back to the counter, chopping the cherries into smaller chunks. While he was working, he continued explaining. “My dad worked a lot. He took on extra shifts. The kind of thing single parents have to do to keep the lights on. One way I could help was making dinner sometimes when he was exhausted.”

“That’s pretty sweet. I guess you got good at it.” she pointed out, a sweet smile brightening up her face. A satisfied smirk made its way into his features.

“I make it my business to get good at everything.”

As she finished up with the chicken, Ethan added more ingredients to the pot, inhaling deeply, something weighting on his chest heavily.

“It’s missing something.” He mused, shaking his head after a second of thought.

“Did you check the recipe?”

“Recipes always tend to the safe side, flavor-wise. What would you add?” he asked, pulling out peppers and herbs from his fridge. She nodded towards the peppers.

“I should have known you’d want to add more heat.” He grinned, putting the herbs away and getting started on chopping the peppers.

“It’s not the only kind of heat I’d like to add…” she muttered under her breath, clearly enough for him to hear and understand. His gaze zeroes in on her, eyes meeting in a look of longing so intense it makes him weak in the knees. It lasts only a moment before it’s gone, with a deep breath, and then he’s back to being his self-controlled self, focusing on the cutting board once more.

“You make it hard to stick to my intentions, Claire.”

“Good.”

They both got busy with keeping their eyes on their food, but time went by and Ethan still didn’t say a word about what they were meant to talk about in the first place.

“So… are we going to talk about whatever’s got you so…” she extended her arms widely and Ethan sighed in defeat.

“I suppose I did promise you an explanation. The thing is… I’ve been avoiding my father.” He told her, and it felt as though he let go of a heavy burden. He’s always been on his own, dealing with his problems alone. Now, at least in that moment, he had her to rely on, and the way she looked at him told him that she was there to listen, and help should he need her to do so.

“But why? It sounded like you and him have a strong relationship.” She noted, trying to find the straightest line through all the parts she couldn’t possibly understand. Perhaps one day, she would be by his side to help him deal with it all, but today was not that day. Today, he needed her to just be with him and help him any way she knew how.

“I can’t stop thinking about what you and I talked about in the care that day we followed my mother. I always thought that Dad and I had a decent relationship for two people with not much in common.” He placed the knife back down on the cutting board, exhaling loudly before continuing. “But I’ve come to realize that I never tried to get closer to him. Because I couldn’t truly understand him.”

“Because he still loves your mom.” She understood what he meant with a somber realization, seeing past the façade of a strong man that was rarely rattled by missiles that hit him. He only nodded.

“That kind of unconditional love… I could never comprehend it.”

“He loves you unconditionally too.” Claire pointed out to him what was obviously there. In any other circumstance, she would try to get to the bottom of it, but it was clear what he meant, and they didn’t have the time to delve into it just yet.

“Everything in this world is conditional, Claire. Everything. My dad, he never pushes anyone. He never challenges anyone. He never demands anything of anybody.” He tapped his finger against the counter every time he pointed out a trait of his father, his face as blank as it could possibly be. “What my mother did to us, it’s like it didn’t matter. And I needed it to matter. I need what I do to matter.”

“I take that it’s not how your relationship with Dr. Banerji was.”

“The opposite. “ he smiled softly at the mention of his mentor that became a second father figure to him. A man that pushed him to be the best doctor he could be and was now pushing him to be the best man he could possibly be, even if Ethan himself wasn’t aware of what his friend was doing. “Naveen challenged me every single day. Still does. If I ever came up short of what I was capable of, he let me know.”

Her face fell when she put his words together with what she knew was a typical Ethan Ramsey reaction. “And you haven’t talked to your dad about any of this.”

“I have no idea how I’d start that conversation.”

“So you’re avoiding him altogether?” she asked, already knowing the answer. It was such a characteristic thing for him to do, and yet she hoped that she was wrong. But she rarely was wrong.

“Yes.” He breathed in deeply, stirring the content of the pot.

The perfect silence of his apartment is shattered by the knock on the door, and Ethan’s whole body visibly tenses at the sound.

“Just how long have you been ignoring him? Long enough for him to show up unannounced to make sure you’re still alive?” her eyes flickered between him and the door, a look of concern blooming on her face. His face twisted pensively.

“… I’d better go answer that.”

His own footsteps ring in his ears as he approaches the door. He counted the distance between him and his father, dreading the conversation that most likely would ensue the moment he opens the door to greet him.

He could feel the pleasant warmth on his back, in the place where Claire had her eyes on him, offering her silent support from afar. He took a deep breath, then answered the door.

‘Hi, Dad.”

“Thank goodness you’re here. I was starting to worry about you.” a relieved smile lit up his father’s face, his posture visibly relaxing as soon as he was sure that his son was safe and sound.

Ethan’s expression fell when he realized how worried he must have been. “Sorry, Dad, I’ve been…”

“Busy, as usual. Don’t worry, I understand.”

Alan stepped into the apartment, sweeping his eyes over the room, and then his eyes stopped at Claire and his movements halted instantly.

“Oh. But I see you have company… Hello again, Dr. Herondale.”

Claire smiled at him warmly, her eyes sparkling. “Don’t mind me, Mr. Ramsey. Pull up a stool and help us make fancy chicken.” Her comment made him laugh, his gaze shifting from the chicken on the counter to his son.

“I see a chicken that needs proper seasoning. Do you mind, Ethan?”

He waved his hand at his dad’s comment. “Add whatever you like, Dad.”

Moving around the room with comfortableness of a person that knew the area well, Alan reached into the cabinets and pulled out a few bottles of spices, spreading them over the chicken. “This chicken’s going to give us all a little punch in the jaw.”

Ethan kept his line of sight on the stove, refusing to look up and face the situation he was in. But then he felt warmth on his face and found it impossible not to look back at her. He was met with her smile and shining eyes.

Deciding to break the moment before he did something irresponsible, he took the pot off the stove and moved towards the counter. “Incoming.”

Alan and Claire stepped aside, observing as Ethan stuffed the chicken, then moved it into the baking dish. Ethan’s father cleared his throat. “So what exactly have you been busy with these past couple weeks?”

“Work. Same as usual.”

“… I see. It’s just that until recently, you always had time to answer my calls.” He pointed out, his face twisting with sadness. Silence fell upon the three of them, Ethan remaining quiet, unable to answer. Claire’s eyes find his own once again, asking a silent question. He shook his head, refusing to act.

“Talk to him.” she mouthed towards him, frowning. Alan noticed something was off, and he caught their little exchange.

“Am I missing something?”

Her eyes were still on him, still encouraging him to talk to his father like he should have done weeks ago. With a heavy sigh, he gave up and turned towards his father.

“Dad… I have to talk to you about something.” Ethan said, then turned towards her with tired eyes. “Can you handle the bird?”

Her hand itched to reach out and rest on his arm. She resisted the urge, instead nodding her head reassuringly. “Sure. You two go talk.”

Claire tried not to focus on their conversation too much, tried to give them as much privacy as she could, but one line reached her ears despite her best efforts.

“Love is complicated, Ethan. I thought you’d know that by now…”

In her peripheral vision, she was convinced she could see Alan looking at her, and then, a second later, a hot flash brushed against her skin. Ethan looked at her too, convinced she wouldn’t notice.

The conversation the two men needed to have was private. So much so that she felt as though she was intruding, despite knowing what the said conversation was about. Knowing all that, she decided to make sure that all in the kitchen was taken care of, and then started creeping towards the door of the apartment. Ethan’s worried voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Claire? Where are you going?” she turned around, nodding towards them both.

“Home. I think you two need some privacy.”

“But the chicken…” he was genuinely upset that she was leaving, which made her smile so widely her cheeks hurt. Winking at him playfully, she responded with humor in her voice.

“Bring me some tomorrow.”

She could see the war that was waging in his mind as he looked between her and his father before he nodded, relieved that he would have time to set things straight with his dad and still catch up with her later.

“Wait here, Dad. Claire, I’ll walk you out.”

“It was nice seeing you again, Mr. Ramsey.” She bid the older man goodbye, smiling at him widely. He reciprocated the gesture in kind.

“It’s always a pleasure to talk to you, Dr. Herondale. Get home safe and have a good night.”

Ethan led her out of the building, holding the door open for her.

“Can you get home okay?”

“Sure, I’ll call a car.” She shrugged, reaching into her pocket for her phone when she was stopped by Ethan’s hand. He rested it on her shoulder, his touch gentle and warm, and then turned her towards him.

“Claire…”

He pulled her even closer, resting his other hand on her cheek. His thumb caressed her skin, tracing the line of her cheekbone tenderly. When he spoke, his voice was low and filled to the brim with longing, not for the first time that evening.

“Thank you.”

“Ethan…”

It all felt familiar, the determination in his eyes, the certainty of his moves, the warmth of his touch. Without another moment of hesitation, he leaned down to make their lips meet, wrapping his arm around her securely. He couldn’t get her close enough, couldn’t hold her tight enough.

So many times, he imagined what it would be like to have her by his side again. So many sleepless nights he spent missing the heat of her body, the softness of her touch, the tenderness of her caress. Now that it was finally happening, he felt as though he was dreaming again.

He could feel the desperation in the way her lips moved against his, the fierceness and eagerness to bring him closer. It was everything he’d wanted to do, to have her close and keep her there. He wanted it to happen every day of those past months, every time she came near him, talked to him, argued with him. The fire was still there, simmering lowly, waiting for the circumstances to change so it could flare up again.

Their breathing got irregular, both of them trying to catch as much oxygen as they could. The intensity of the kiss was rising fast, threatening to destroy the scale. Every cell in his body was calling for her, to hold her, to have her, to bring her back home with him. She held him tighter, their lips coming together fast and hard, desperately trying to prolong the moment. His fingers grabbed the material of her dress that covered her back, willing to do whatever it took to hold onto her.

At long last, she pulled away from him, forcing herself to not dive right back into him. Their eyes met, longing in them clear as day. They still held each other close, unable to put even an inch of space between them.

“Ethan… what does this mean?” she muttered, her voice small and insecure. He felt a pang in his chest when he realized what she was expecting him to say.

“I don’t know.”

Ethan pulled her right back in, the kiss having an entirely different tone. Slow, soft and tender, filled to the brim with emotions he was beginning to understand and come to terms with. She kissed him back, her hands caressing the sides of his face.

“We’ll talk about it later.”

They were breathing the same air, electricity cracking all around them. The invisible force slammed them back together, his hands moving lower to grip her hips. She leaned backwards, kissing him hungrily, like she was never going to get enough of him.

Ethan’s lips left hers, moving along the line of her jaw, descending down her neck. The sound she made bordered on obscene, definitely not suited for the situation they were in currently, but he couldn’t care less. It did things to him, things he could definitely name, things he definitely wanted to explore with her, over and over again. But it wasn’t the time and place for it.

“Do you think-“ he leaned back for just a fraction of a second, but it was enough for her to reach for the door handle, pushing him back inside.

The corridor was dark and she slammed them against the wall, hiding them from the view. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she pulled tightly, a low groan ringing in the empty space around them. The thought of letting her go seemed impossible, and he had no idea how they were going to say goodnight.

Kissing her was intoxicating him, making him feel lightheaded. His hands wandered on her body, touching every part he could reach. With just the tips of his fingers, he brushed the skin of her legs beneath the hem of the dress she was wearing. A heavy sigh slipped out of her mouth, sending a shiver down his back.

Ethan’s touch got more insistent, now gripping the soft skin of her thigh, pulling her leg up and around his hip, growling at the contact. Claire’s smirk was concealed by the darkness they were drowning in, but they knew each other well enough for him to know she was smug. Pressing against her, he elicited a desperate sound of her own, grinning against her.

He trailed off from her lips yet again, sucking on the skin of her collarbone gently, then leaned back and rested his forehead against hers. Their breaths were elevated, shoulders moving up and down rapidly. Any more teasing, and he would have to take her against the wall, which he didn’t want for multiple reasons, the main one being that he wanted to take his time. He waited so long to have her by his side again, he can wait one day more.

“Let’s get you that car.” He whispered and was met with a slight nod from her, the same thought process happening in her mind at the same time.

They waited for her ride to arrive, holding each other close and kissing each other from time to time. When time came for her to leave, she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him into her one last time, kissing him like there was nothing else in the world.

“Goodnight, Ethan.” She whispered, then got into the car. Once seated inside, she looked back at him, his eyes staring at her with longing. He followed the car with his gaze until it disappeared from his view.

---------

“You were gone for a long time.” Alan greeted him, leaning back on the couch with a knowing smile. Ethan stopped dead in his tracks, then scoffed and went to the kitchen to check on the chicken.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He tried deflecting the obvious question, to no avail, for his father laughed loudly.

“Ethan, you’re grinning like child that got candy. Can you honestly look me in the eye and say that it has nothing to do with her? Or something that happened while you two were gone?” a suggestive undertone in Alan’s voice made Ethan blush. He really was that obvious, so evidently taken with her that even his own father noticed.

“I- that’s not what we were supposed to be talking about.” He walked back to the couch, and his dad laughed a bit more.

“And you’re blushing! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this flustered. Makes me regret that I came here and interrupted your evening together.”

“Don’t. Claire is right, I do need to talk to you. It’s weighing on me, ignoring you like that. I want us to talk and resolve it.” Ethan sighed, running his fingers through his hair. His relationship with Alan was never stellar, but they made it work as best as they could. With his mother back, the pain he felt since he was a child came back to the surface, widening the chasm between the two men more and more with each day that passed.

“She’s got a good influence on you. Promise me that you will talk to her when we’re done here.”

“I promise.” He nodded, his eyes shifting to his phone, left on the table. His fingers twitched in a gesture to reach for it, but he caught himself just in time to stop himself.

“Text her. Now.” Alan advised, knowing that his son would not act on his feelings if he didn’t encourage him, one way or another.

“She isn’t even home yet, and even if she was, she won’t have time to respond right away.”

“Then ask her to call you when she does. Come on, you’re one second away from bursting.” He said with a clear indication that there was no point in Ethan denying or arguing the point his dad was making. Letting out an annoyed huff, he produced a short message carefully.

“There. Happy now?”

“You’ll thank me later-“ the ping of an incoming message interrupted his smug remark, both men looking on the phone, then at each other. Ethan, almost like he could read his father’s mind, snatched the phone before he could reach for it, causing the older man to laugh.

He could lie to himself all he wanted, but there was no lying to Alan. Ethan’s face lit up as soon as he read Claire’s message, and it was at that moment when he was finally hit with the reality.

“… oh god.” He muttered, leaning forward heavily. Turning to his dad, he tried to form a coherent sentence, but found it impossible. Alan put his hand on his son’s shoulder, offering a smile.

“Congratulations, son. You just realized what everyone else already knew. Including Claire herself.”

For the next two hours, they walked through all the issues Ethan had developed over the years. There was no way they could resolve it all in one night, but it was a good start. By the end of the evening, they had a solid foundation for their road to forgiveness.

Just as they stood up to end their night, Ethan’s phone started ringing. He jumped slightly in his seat, and then started breathing a bit heavier when he saw who was calling. Alan’s grip on his shoulder tightened briefly before started walking towards the guest room he usually occupied when he was visiting.

“Tell her, Ethan. You already know how you feel, it’s time to let her know too.”

“Thank you, Dad.” Ethan walked over to him, hesitating for just a second, before he hugged him tightly. Alan was stunned for a while, and then embraced his son, thanking silently for the universe placing Claire and Ethan on each other’s paths.

#ethan ramsey #open heart #ethan x mc #mc x ethan #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #mc x ethan ramsey #fic #fanfiction

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kpophours · 4 years ago

Text

a very necessary guide to The Boyz

➥ basic information

debuted on December 6, 2017 with Boy

currently consisting of 11 members (they used to be 12 members, but Hwall sadly departed from the group in October 2019 due to his ongoing ankle injury)

signed under Cre.ker Entertainment

their official fanclub name is “THEB” (aka deobi)

no official colors yet (we’re waiting, Cre.ker)

they have an official YouTube, Instagram, Twitter and vlive

they had their first win with Bloom Bloom in 2019

discography: four EPs (The First, The Start, The Only, Dreamlike), two Singles (The Sphere, Bloom Bloom), a special Single (White), one full album (Reveal), one Japanese release (Tattoo)

recently won mnet’s Road to Kingdom and should have participated in Kingdom this year, but sadly, the show has been postponed indefinitely

currently preparing for a comeback (September 2020)

... now onto the members!

➥ hyung line: Sangyeon, Jacob, Younghoon, Hyunjae

▸ Lee Sangyeon - leader, main vocalist

born on November 4, 1996 (a Scorpio and the oldest member of tbz)

(not your typical) leader - he’s not really “the dad”, but truly more of an older brother to the others

often teases and pranks the other members and is one of the funniest members according to their “Who’s Who” video (see: video recs)

writes own songs - super talented and dedicated, a really hard worker

has a beautiful deep, soul filled voice (we’d LOVE to hear more of it @cre.ker) - check out his performance on King of Masked Singer

according to Eric, he’s the member with the best body - really likes to work out and is stacked™

he really, really loves mangos

says he’s not cute but is obviously very wrong about that

has a super cute smile and adorable laugh

looked too beautiful with pink hair (deobi will never recover)

super bad at literally any game - always, ALWAYS loses when it comes to rock-paper-scissors (would be hilarious if it weren’t so sad)

some fun facts: his mbti is ESFP-T (he doesn’t believe in those kind of tests though), he’s good at impersonating others (especially Eric), he has an older sister (who has two sons, Sangyeon is a super cute uncle to them which he recently showed in his BOYLOG - WARNING: extreme cuteness!)

▸ Jacob Bae - lead vocalist

born on May 30, 1997 (a Gemini, but he very rarely shows it)

his Korean name is Bae Joon Young

kinda the mom of the group, but his official title is the angel™ (he literally never gets angry, he doesn’t even curse! how does he do that even his older brother says they never fought while growing up)

is from Toronto and therefore ½ of Canadian and ⅓ of English line - so he’s obviously fluent in English!

really improved his dancing skills over the years and it shows (unofficial member of dance line, fight me cre.ker)

beautiful soft vocals, amazing high notes (see their Mirotic cover)

plays the guitar and composes/writes his own songs

an MC for Simply K-Pop together with Kevin

½ of the superior “MoonBae” ship (aka married to Kevin - they’re super cute together, truly just two halves of the same idiot)

used to play volleyball and basketball and is really good at both, has apparently been working out a lot recently (rip his stans)

some fun facts: his mbti is INFP-T, his family adopted a new dog and named him after him/gave him the nickname “Cobi” ("your family replaced you... with a canine” - Kevin Moon, 2020), has an older brother, is left-handed, used to be the biggest fan of cereal (literally stocked boxes of it inside his room)

▸ Kim Younghoon - vocalist, visual

born on August 8, 1997 (but the most untypical Leo ever - only shows he’s a Leo like, once a year)

tallest member and ⅓ of the so called “Bermuda line” (aka the visuals™)

an under appreciated vocalist - his performance on King of Masked Singer more than showed how amazing his voice actually is (LET HIM SING CRE.KER)

has a “cool/cold look” at first, but is actually the softest, shyest, most precious squish on this planet (and has super soft puppy eyes)

kinda bad at life - needs to be protected because he’s just so clumsy, pouts when he’s about to cry (me, immediately: *cries with him*)

sometimes just randomly zones out and dissociates for a bit

fell down the stairs and injured his collarbone (I TOLD YOU HE NEEDS TO BE PROTECTED) before their Europe Tour and the Reveal promotions and therefore didn’t participate in the choreography

loves loves loves LOVES dogs so much and (his family) has a poodle (we stan Bori in this household)

the softest™ when trying to speak English (I‘m not crying, I‘m just really allergic to his extreme cuteness)

was a model for the Seoul Fashion Week in 2017 (together with Juyeon)

some fun facts: his mbti is INFP-J (there are four (4) introverts in tbz and they all share the exact same mbti), has an older brother, appeared in I.O.I’s Whatta Man music video, was recently cast as the second lead for the drama Love Revolution (his first ever acting role! the world should look out for actor!Hoon), is a BTS fanboy (his bias is Taehyung/V)

▸ Lee Jaehyun (aka “Hyunjae”) - lead vocalist, lead dancer, visual

born on September 17, 1997 (a Virgo)

also one of the tall members and another third of the “Bermuda Line”

an amazing dancer and a great vocalist (had like, 98% of the lines in No Air, so he’s pretty much an undercover main vocal)

an allrounder

seems quiet and chill at first. DO NOT BE FOOLED!!!

he is: l o u d . a bit annoying but also very cute without trying (actually really dislikes doing aegyo). hear someone loud in the background (especially laughing)? yep. that’s him! you found him, congrats.

also very caring and soft, takes great care of the younger members (when he’s not behaving like one of the younger members himself, that is)

also nags them a lot though (at least according to Eric)

the biggest Iron Man fanboy (like, legit wrote a fan letter to Iron Man when he visited the Marvel studios in NYC he’s just so cute)

l o v e s, no, ADORES kids and dogs

also really loves fried chicken

the biggest IU fanboy! very recently covered her song When Love Passes By for their A to BOYZ cover series

MWOHASEYO (don’t ask, just watch)

some fun facts: his mbti is ENFJ-A, he has an older sister, he’s really close with Pentagon’s Kino (they had some very cute interactions during Road to Kingdom), he can spin literally any object (a very weird, random talent tbh), has very skinny legs (so... literally a skinny legend)

➥ middle aka ’98 line: Juyeon, Kevin, New, Q

▸ Lee Juyeon - main dancer, vocalist

born on January 15, 1998 (a Capricorn)

the last third of the tall and “Bermuda line”

an amazing dancer - he trained very hard to be where he is now (went viral as “the bucket hat guy” from their Bad Guy dance practice with the 1MILLION dance studio)

has a very soft, beautiful voice needs more lines

has very sharp features and beautiful eyes - his personality is very different from his cold looks though, he’s actually very soft, caring and thoughtful

he’s very gullible and innocent (also needs to be protected), therefore often the victim of jokes - most people think he’s a bit dumb thanks to that, but he’s really not: he likes to read, watches a lot of documentaries, and is just more on the quiet side in general, he likes to think before he speaks (unlike Hyunjae for example, no shade)

also very clumsy (never leave him and Younghoon alone together, please)

booked and busy! had like, a trillion photo shoots just this year, and was also a model for the Seoul Fashion Week 2017

very bad at taking selfies but he tries and we love him nevertheless

can speak Japanese and English, is also a really good cook

an MC for The Show (aka the “JuShow”)

some fun facts: his mbti is ENTP-T, is very flexible (especially for his height), he likes to work out, has a younger brother, was on the show Law of the Jungle (he really likes nature), biggest U-Know (TVXQ) fanboy (legit cried when he met him), likes to play basketball, has gigantic hands (20.5cm a bit excessive but okay)

▸ Kevin Moon - main vocalist

born on February 23, 1998 (a soft Pisces boy™)

his Korean name is Moon Hyung Seo

the other half of Canadian line aka MoonBae (therefore, married to Jacob)

is from Vancouver and fluent in English (⅓ of English line)

yes, he’s the living meme you probably know from all the “funny kpop videos” compilations, quotes vines on a daily basis

SO much more than just the meme-ber though, he’s extremely talented - BIG BRAIN ENERGY, his creativity legit knows NO LIMITS

has amazing drawing skills (that he often shares with deobi on Twitter) - actually designed the group’s logo tbz use for their official Twitter account

can play the piano and guitar (he’s truly just so talented and amazing - STAN KEVIN MOON Y’ALL)

HAS ONE OF THE BEST VOICES EVER AND WE’D ALL REALLY LOVE TO HEAR MORE OF IT ONE DAY, CRE.KER

can cook really well

also writes his own lyrics/songs

an MC for Simply K-Pop together with Jacob

undercover visual (have you seen his cheekbones?! almost made me cry with his beauty when he had long wavy hair)

“I have no lips” - Kevin Moon, 2020

some fun facts: his mbti is INFP-T, has an older sister, his parents named him after watching “Home Alone” (iconic behavior right there), has a kinda embarrassing past (some of the pictures and videos… uh well, let’s just say he was born a meme legend), he participated in the show K-Pop Star before becoming a trainee

▸ Choi Chanhee (aka “New”) - main vocalist

born on April 26, 1998 (a Taurus)

literally the prettiest human alive

legit looks like an angel (how is he not an official visual?!), but is a savage (and extremely funny, lowkey judges his members 24/7)

a bit of a drama queen but he’s so cute it’s okay

amazing vocal skills, does most of the ad-libs

looks too cute in a beret, that should be illegal

gets bullied by the other members, which is kinda fair but also a bit (too) much sometimes (#letChanheelive2020)

is a math genius, can calculate extremely big numbers inside his head and FASTER THAN AN ACTUAL CALCULATOR (this is SORCERY)

½ of the other iconic duo beside MoonBae aka “NyuKyu” (together with Changmin aka “Q”) - you heard of dumb and dumber, now get ready for New and Q!

takes the best selfies, holds the official title of Selfie King (according to the others, he takes the most selfies - according to himself, he doesn’t even take that many but just takes them in a very obvious way, so the others always notice him doing so)

almost breaks his neck taking selfies

used to have a lot of half-time jobs before becoming a trainee

one of the members in charge of cooking (idk why, he managed to melt a spoon once)

doesn’t know how to swim (because - and I quote - ”he’s a CEO’s son”)

puts MILK FIRST, AND THEN CEREAL it’s over, he’s cancelled

some fun facts: his mbti is INFP-T, he really hates tomatoes, he has a tattoo (a cross on his left pinky), has an older brother, lowkey looks like a Volturi, dropped Younghoon’s new sunglasses TWICE which Hoon will never let him forget, he once accidentally ate a plastic fork (don’t ask)

▸ Ji Changmin (aka “Q”) - main dancer, vocalist

born on November 5, 1998 (yep, another Scorpio)

one of the best dancers in the industry (everyone can fight me on this) - went viral for his improvised dance to the Mario music

STAGE DEMON, has one of the best stage presences EVER, goes from 0 to 100 in literally no time

so cute it HURTS and takes the best boyfriend aesthetic pics (all moodboard makers thank him for this)

has dimples he likes to poke when saying “music cue (q)” (me: *cries*)

has a veeeeeeeeeeeeery long neck

can impersonate a giraffe and a pigeon

½ of NyuKyu aka dumb and dumber (WE LOVE BFFS) - they have some very iconic (cooking) vlives together

he’s very - and I say this with all my love - weird

or, to say it more diplomatically, “unusual”: LOVES horror movies and has had Annabelle as his iPad background for the longest time now (according to himself, they apparently recently broke up though rip our favorite otp), says his favorite beverage at Starbucks are the napkins (???????), literally BEGGED Kevin to let him buy a stuffed pigeon plushie when they visited New York, says the creepy nun from The Conjuring is cute (again: ?????? *whispers* is he okay)

dolphin screams™ (you’ve been warned, turn down your volume)

got lost in New York City together with Kevin (never let them take the metro ever again, at least not... unsupervised)

has a poodle named Ghana and adores him (see this BOYLOG where he just hangs with his puppy, 10/10 recommend watching that)

some fun facts: his mbti is ESFP-T (same as Sangyeon, doesn’t believe in those kind of tests either), has two older sisters, is ambidextrous (but mostly uses his left hand), is really good at playing the piano (won a price in elementary school), his English name is James aka the most generic English name ever (no shade, no hate)

➥ maknae line: Haknyeon, Sunwoo, Eric

▸ Ju Haknyeon - lead dancer, vocalist, rapper

born on March 12, 1999 (another Pisces!)

he is half Chinese, half Korean and lived in Hong Kong for a while

speaks some Mandarin, a bit of Cantonese and also some English

also one of the allrounders of the group (I SAID WHAT I SAID)

an AMAZING dancer! is really good at freestyling

taught himself how to b-boy

such a rich, amazing, stable voice (*bass boosted* more lines for Hak)

one of the funniest and most random members

very loud, randomly bursts into songs all the time even sings when sneezing

just generally really, really sweet and nice

before debut, he participated in the second season of mnet’s Produce 101 (was eliminated in Ep. 11 and ranked #19) - The Boyz were actually often referred to as “Juhaknyeon’s group” before/shortly after their debut

he’s a very good eater and eats A LOT (FINALLY A RELATABLE IDOL)

his family lives on Jeju Island and owns a pig farm - because of that (and because he eats a lot), one of his nicknames is “pig/piggie”

has a blindingly bright smile and is such an underrated visual

yes, you can probably drown in his beautiful, deep chocolate eyes

he and Hwall accidentally became thieves in NYC (they forgot to pay for their food, but went back later to do so so no jail time!)

some fun facts: his mbti is ENTJ-T, he’s really close with Seventeen’s Seungkwan, he has two sisters (one younger, one older), NOT a morning person AT all (relatable), really good at organizing stuff (as seen during the Battle Trip to Jakarta episodes with Hyunjae), really good and fast at peeling tangerines

▸ Kim Sunwoo - main rapper, vocalist

born on April 12, 2000 (an Aries and his fire sign nature shows)

a flawless rapper, just... truly superb. also an amazing dancer !

actually auditioned to be a vocalist (so he has amazing vocals, too), but became a rapper instead

tbz’ unofficial stuntman (as seen during Road to Kingdom), even though he’s actually really scared of heights

can play the guitar

on the other end of the “lip spectrum” - because unlike Kevin, Sunwoo has a lot of them (lemme just *smooch*)

literally one of the wittiest, most savage people on this planet (GOOGLE SEARCH: HOW TO BE SO FUNNY)

used to drink a lot of juice to keep himself healthy

is really good at soccer and used to play when he was younger

beautiful deep brown eyes that hold every star and galaxy in them

Mr. Coconut Hair™ (really makes it work though - still, every deobi screams when we get to see his forehead (which is like, once a year if we’re lucky))

a real stage demon but in reality an actual baby™ + scaredy cat needs to be protected at all costs

had a mental breakdown when he had to eat a bug after losing rock-paper-scissors

always yells “GO AWAY ANNA” whenever someone knocks on his door (especially if it’s New)

some fun facts: his mbti is ENTP-A, has a younger sister (who’s taller than him, he’s really salty about that), he’s really close to some of the other ‘00 liners in the industry, he understands English quite well but doesn’t really speak it, also contributes to a lot of tbz’ songs

▸ Eric Son - maknae, lead dancer, lead rapper, vocalist

born on December 22, 2000 (another Capricorn)

his Korean name is Son Young Jae

he was born in South Korea, but grew up in Los Angeles and is therefore fluent in English (⅓ of English line)

a great dancer (knows soooo many choreographies, it’s insane)

an amazing rapper (deserves more lines!)

hyper 24/7 watching him makes me tired, where does he get all that energy from

talks fast and a lot. never shuts up. you can’t make him. he tries to tell you one (1) story, but ends up telling 10 different ones along the way.

really good a baseball and loves to watch games

super close to Juyeon and used to go to Ju’s place during holidays as his own family lives in the US (my JuRic heart)

really neat and tidy, loves to clean maybe almost a bit neurotic about it

just generally really, really cute ???

a huge GOT7 fanboy (RELATABLE)

a thot on stage, should not be left unsupervised

close friends with Stray Kids’ Felix (his best idol friend according to himself)

also close to GOT7’s Mark (they’re also really cute together)

performed CPR on a watermelon once (it sadly still died, Eric gets an A for effort though)

some fun facts: his mbti is ENFJ-A, he has an older sister (who lives in New York), does NOT look like the maknae which often confuses people, really good and fast at solving Rubix cubes

➥ former member: Hwall

Heo Hyunjoon (aka “Hwall”) - lead dancer, lead rapper, vocalist

born March 9, 2000 (yet another Pisces!)

from Busan

such a good dancer, truly incredible

very soft rap tone

looks a bit like a cat

is very acrobatic

has a “cool” persona, but is actually just a certified babie boy™

used to live in the Philippines for four years and can speak English

the official fashionista of tbz, some of his outfits are truly just iconic

his signature aegyo is to shoot an arrow at deobis’ hearts (Hwall actually means “bow” in Korean)

can get very clingy with some members

had to sit out during D.D.D promotions and decided to leave The Boyz in 2019 (he’s still in the music video though!)

in August 2020, it was announced that he left Cre.ker Entertainment and established his own label called Dia Note

the same month, he debuted as Hyunjun Hur with the song Baragi

you can follow his official Instagram and YouTube

some fun facts: his mbti is ENFP, he’s still in contact with the other members (said he especially misses Juyeon and Hyunjae *sobs*), his role model is BTS’ Jimin and he actually went to the same dance academy (also knows pretty much all their choreographies/songs by heart)

➥ some videos to watch

all their music videos of course

all their live stages/performances too

BuzzFeed’s Who’s Who

Metro UK’s Quick Questions

their Billboard interview

their Weekly Idol episode

their Idol Room episode

their Road to Kingdom performances: Sword of Victory, Danger, Reveal, Heroine, Quasi una Fantasia, Checkmate

their dance covers: Girls Generation’s The Boys + GOT7′s Hard Carry’, TVXQ’s Mirotic, TWICE’s What is Love, EXO’s Love me Right, EXO’s Call me Baby, Super Junior’s Sorry Sorry

Q, Haknyeon and Jacob for the Idol dance cover challenge

their Billie Eilish Bad Guy stage for KCON 2019 + the dance practice

their dance cover medley

drop the dance at KCON 2019

their performance on Immortal Songs

Q’s Mario dance

their Halloween dance practice for Bloom Bloom

their “Identity Film: Generation Z” videos which show a very different side of each member

my personal emotional support kpop video

The Boyz - The Play “Mafia game” (aka a mess™)

their A to BOYZ cover series (five members have been released so far): Jacob, Hyunjae, Sunwoo, Juyeon, Q

and if you have the time: their whole The Castle concert

➥ their shows

The Boyz - Summer Vacation

The Boyz in New York City

Come On! The Boyz

Come On! The Boyz School

The Boyz - Flower Snack (pre-debut)

The Boyz - The 100 (shortly after debut)

The Boyz - Otoseyo (Japanese show)

The Boyz - The Mission

The Boyz - The Play

there are literally endless videos on YouTube - especially “The Boyz memes” / “funny The Boyz compilations” and so on, but I won’t include those here as you can easily find them on your own !

... and that’s it (for now), if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to send an ask - and please give their new comeback lots of love, they are so talented, funny, dedicated and hardworking, and truly just deserve the whole world 💞

[masterlist] | [requests]

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spookybreadstick · 4 years ago

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Hello! Congrats on 100 followers!anyways im requesting a premium matchup.

- I'm nonbinary (vae/vaer/xe/xem/they/then)

- Demisexual Omni

- I like to read, write, draw, and generally do those sorts of creative things

-I definitely don't like being forced to talk, have physical contact with other people, and move around, it kinda just makes me almost crash except im on edge and paranoid but nothing's processing

-Personality type is INTP-T

-Sun Sign is Pisces, Moon Sign is Gemini, and my ascendant is a Leo

-I'm fairly tall, 5 feet 9 inches (175.26 centimeters) to be exact

-I'm very pale and skinny

-I have naturally red hair, on the darker side, it's think and wavy

-It may possibly be in a grown out mullet to but who knows?

-I have blue/green/grey eyes that almost always have bag under

-My style is kinda just button down, flannels, plaids, turtlenecks, tank tops, hoodies, sweaters, trenchcoat (i have this one dark purple one that i love), vests, wide brimmed hats, bennies, jeans, skirts, knee high and thigh high socks, and boots

-My love language is Quality Time

-No gender preference

-Blacklist: Jeff the Killer, Ben, Toby or any of the slender brothers

-Extra info:

-ADHD, anxiety, and insomnia (on meds for all of them)

-I need reminders to take our meds, eat, use the bathroom, generally anything thats just basic hygine or health

-We have a hard time showing affection and empathy

-I've been told i have a bit of a resting bitch face

-I tend to bottle up emotions

-I'm semi-verbal and not big on physical contact (though I do like late night cuddles and kisses)

-I don't like people, I'm generally not good with them

-I have some motor tics

-If I have a panic attack it tends to trigger a tic attack if I'm able to calm down quickly (like.. less then five minutes)

-I like most music other than country and christian

-I tend to overwork myself alot (Without doing anything most of the time)

-I love stargazing and watching stars

-Driving around in the woods late at night? love it

-I also find bathing together romantic for some reason

-If I'm scared, or freak out or something bad happens; generally just if my brain goes from clam or really any feelings to panic then my brain kinda forces us to dissociate and it blocks out what happened

-I also don't move when that happens

-Random stim is just softly blowing air through my mouth

-One of my tics is well I'll put my arms over my head, my forearms pressed up against the back for my head and the top of my head tilted towards my knees and if i try to move my leg just twitchs (its whacked me in the head a few times) it usually last a minute or two

-Oh yeah my name is Ares (like the god of War)

Anyways hope thats enough info for you 😘 love ya breadstick/p hope you have a good day

you sent this in twice (no worries) but basically had the same information so i just combined them both into one! :) hope that’s okay!

few things about your ask i’d like to mention: a) this was so hard, i was so torn between two of the pastas but in the end I picked EJ although really it could have been either of the two tbh b) i like reading and writing too! c) i’ve always thought that red hair is so beautiful c) my ascendant is Leo as well! d) you’re like the third or fourth person i’ve done a match-up for that has a mullet look going on! you all should start a club or something lol! e) i’ve been told i have resting sad/stressed out face. like i’ll be totally calm but apparently i just look nervous or upset? f) that name is so cool omg!

💝💝💝 I Match You With: EJ!

Similar Likes: reading (or in his case, being read to), listening to music, drawing (he used to anyway and he still likes to doodle),

Similar Dislikes: being forced to talk to or interact with people, physical touch when it’s not wanted,

Why You'd Make A Good Match: EJ needs somebody who’s a romantic type like you to get him to open up to people and to realize that he’s somebody worth loving. Being with you makes him actually enjoy his life. In return, you get a caring and protective boyfriend. He will always be sure to remind you to take care of yourself (he’s especially on top of your medications, because he keeps them in a special little pill box in his ‘office’). He can’t cook for you unfortunately, but he will always remind you when it’s time to eat. And for times when you’re non or semi verbal, he will become shockingly good at guessing what you need or want. At the start, it will be rough to convey what you’re ‘saying’ since he can’t see you very well, but he is a fast learner and will pick up on your own little ‘language’.

Potential Relationship Clashes: Just as you can rely on EJ for your needs, there are some things that he will have to rely on you for. He will sometimes need you to be his eyes, and to help him with simple tasks that require more of his sight than he has. EJ’s pretty good about handling himself, but he will sometimes need a helping hand and as his partner he would like you to be the one to do it but he also doesn’t want to stress you out. Also, just a minor thing, but if you’re stimming or ticcing then you’ll have to let him know (in the beginning at least, before gets properly accustomed to your sounds and sudden movements) so he doesn’t get confused about what’s happening.

What He Loves The Most About You: EJ loves just being with you because you make him happy. You also give him purpose and make him feel good about himself, that he can take care of somebody and love them (thus making him definitely not the monster he fears he is, because monsters don’t know how to love). You just make him happy, and he hopes he makes you feel the same.

#💝#this-person-who-does-stuff #Matchup #creepypasta matchups #Matchups #EJ #ej creepypasta #💝 matchups #spookybreadstick

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purplerose244 · 4 years ago

Text

Peacefully

Here for this year’s Ninjago Secret Santa! Man I love this event, thank you a lot @coco-jaguar for organizing it once again! ❤ Hi @davisisacommonname, I’m your secret santa! Here’s you gift, I hope you like it! 😊😊

Merry Christmas and happy festivitites!! 💕💕

Summary: It’s a day like others, just without the usual mayhem shaking the entire city. A time to think of less stressful possibilities.

“So, what did we learn today?”

“That dares are stupid?” As they got back inside the monastery, finally escaping the chilling winter air, Nya raised a gigantic eyebrow at the green ninja. At which the mighty leader seemed to shrink the littlest bit. “… that dares involving the master of lighting putting lights on the tree using spinjitzu, resorting in him entangling himself into the wires and making every single bulb explode by electrification, are stupid?”

“There you go.” The master of water sighed loudly. “I don’t even know why I’m surprised it happened.” Despite the nonchalance of this blondie, the brand-new lights that they had been forced to buy and how she was probably the only one irritated about it – especially since Kai had been laughing hysterically for ten minutes straight afterwards –, she smiled.

Lloyd mimicked her, probably sensing he was not in mortal danger anymore, taking off scarf and hat. His golden locks puffed up as soon as the headpiece was off.

“Does the fact that I lost against Cole count as enough punishment?”

“Mhm?”

“I bet with him it was going to be Kai the first to cause an incident, he was supposed to be the one to take the bet. Now I’m in debt of one week of chores.” Another eyebrow was raised, less furious, more judging. “What? I’m trying to catch up, apparently the guys used to bet on everything when they first formed the team, from who was going to be the green ninja, to who was going to be the first to find out the identity of Samurai X! Like, I’m that prophesied green savior, and I knew about your little escapades.” Nya couldn’t help the little smirk. Ironically, the green ninja did turn out to be the first to discover the truth. “I could’ve won two times already, I wanna keep up now.”

They stepped into the kitchen, hearing faraway sounds. The others were most likely elsewhere putting up less expendable decorations. Nya was already looking towards the stove, thinking of nothing other than hot chocolate. Knowing Lloyd, they were on the same page.

“Okay, that’s uselessly prideful and kind of adorable, but this better not turn into a gambling addiction little one.”

“Nya, my father was the king of the Underworld. Is there really a worse evil than that?”

She couldn’t argue back.

Lost in thoughts about something warm to melt her frozen bones, she almost jumped when the sudden scribble came to her ears, and one extremely peaceful whistling that they were all too accustomed to at this point. In the living room right next, sitting on the sofa with the television uncharacteristically switched off, was Cole. Eyes on a random notebook he had on his knees, a pencil in the air, wearing that ridiculous sweater Jay found at the mall with muscled arms drawn over the sleeves – such a miracle of an ugly sweater.

He looked extremely taken by his activity, munching the end of the pencil every once in a while. Seeing their official lifter so calm and captured by whatever mindless activity had forced him to sit down was curious. It did happen before, but lately it got rarer. It was always a nice view.

Nya looked at the green ninja, who pointed at the kitchen with his thumb, right where the mugs where. She nodded, and went to take place next to the master of earth.

Who jumped right away, giving her a look.

“What the…? You’re back already? I didn’t hear you get in.”

“Wow, you don’t say!” From the kitchen the blonde’s voice erupted. “It’s almost like we’re ninja or something, unbelievable!” It followed accurate noises made by mouth, and if they knew him – and after years they absolutely did – then the little brat was probably mimicking an explosion coming out of his head – he was hanging around Jay a little too much.

Nya giggled, while the master of earth rolled his eyes with a little grin.

“Nice to hear you’re all in a good mood after our little blackout. You got the lights?”

“All done. Sorry about the scare, but it looked like you were in your own world.” She tilted her head, looking around. The living room was getting more festive, but it missed at least half the holly. “Didn’t you guys finish while we were gone?”

“We were going to, then something came up and we can’t really continue until Zane comes back to the shop… Kai accidentally set the tree on fire while you two were gone.” Her loud facepalm spoke louder than any of them. “I think Wu is still giving him an earful as he did with Jay as we speak … and before you ask Lloyd, Jay made a mess before Kai. So I still won the bet.”

“Aww, for once that I actually need Hot Shot to cause a mess!” The green ninja came out of the kitchen, the kettle starting to heat up into the kitchen, pout clearly in sight. For being their brave leader and the strongest ninja of all, he was still kind of a kid – although in all honesty, weren’t they all? “Anyway, what got you so into it that you forgot how to hear?” He walked until he was behind the couch, leaning over the master of earth’s shoulder and smiling. “Hey, that’s pretty cool! I didn’t know you could draw!” His surprised tone came out sincerely, especially since it felt like forever since they had found each other in this weird family. Finding new details was always a shock.

Nya scooted closer as well, smiling at the familiar shading of the chicken drawn onto the paper, with the real one sleeping over a pillow in front of the tv.

“You still have a nice touch. I haven’t seen you do it ever since it was just the four of you in action, and this little evil brat was in some random snake prison.” Lloyd mouthed an ‘oohhh’ of understand as why he didn’t remember. “To be more specific, I’m pretty sure it was back when instead of listening to my research about the Serpentine, you guys have tried to poison me with perfume.” Good thing no villain knew about her little Achilles hill.

Cole snorted, pressing his eraser on the corner of the paper.

“You were telling complicated stuff to that airhead that is your brother, to the guy that was lookin at your in awe while trying his hardest to ask you out, and to a nindroid. A robot. You can’t really blame us.”

“What’s your excuse then?” The master of earth raised his piece.

“I’m pretty freaking good at this.” Nya snorted. Again, no arguments here. “You know… I’ve been thinking about those times. And it’s not like it was easier, but I guess we didn’t really know how much things could become complicated and return back then.” Cole looked over the drawing, shrugging. “But I’m in vein of taking something back from there, exactly because we don’t know when we could get called into action again. It’s little, but it’s still mine… I felt silly like that this morning.” He grinned of that introverted nature that, despite years, was still a part of him.

And it was okay. It was great even. Nya gave him a shoulder.

“Hey, it’s not silly, it’s good.”

“Yeah! All of us should do something other than fighting.” Lloyd chimed in, dropping next to Cole on the other side, smiling. “Like for example, even though it’s been a pretty shady part of my life, I kinda miss PE back at Darkley’s. Moving just for the sake of moving. We should play sometimes, not because of training, it could be fun… or Nya could annihilate us, whichever comes first.”

“I’m not that competit-” The master of water blinked twice, shaken by the quickest flashback of her life. “… no wait scratch that, I totally am.”

Cole snickered, tapping the notebook with his pencil.

“Besides having as a golden rule to never put the blacksmith brothers against each other-” It could be the time Ninjago actually managed to get completely destroyed for good. “I would be down for that, why not? No sparring or anything, just a friendly match of whatever. I didn’t even get to do that as a kid, dad would always say that I could risk putting muscles where a dancer didn’t need them…” He flexed one arm, the massive hill pulling up the drawing onto the sleeve. He grinned with satisfaction. “How about football? I’ve always wanted to try football!” Oh for whatever reason other than having the strength to tackle a mountain?

“Absolutely!” Lloyd nodded eagerly. “Let’s do it! Oh, and soccer too, Brad and I used to try that a lot when we were kids!” He seemed to absolutely glow and the perspective, and it was kinda sad that such a simple reality represented an actual opportunity for him.

Before Nya could get lost into more self-deprecating depressive thoughts, and the fact that not even one of them had a normal childhood except maybe for Jay – and considering the still not so clear Cliff Gordon erased reality affair that was still up to discussion –, there was a loud whistle coming from the kitchen. The green ninja immediately sprouted into action, sprinting towards the sound. As soon as Cole decided to put down his drawing, seeing as the chicken had woken up to go bother someone – bet on Kai –, the blondie came back with three steaming mugs, giving to them all.

The master of water held up hers – a blue one with a storm cloud on it saying ‘Too tide to talk’ –, smiling at the distinct bitter scent of black cocoa. They knew each other tastes way too well.

“Sounds good to me. I also fancy basketball, so I’m down for that.”

“Nice! Mm, but how about other hobbies? Nya?” Cole took his time to take a generous sip from his mug that was literally dripping because of the amount of marshmallow – covering slightly the orange surface with ‘I’m a grounded person, like my coffee’ written on it –, while the gray ninja frowned a little. “Anything you would like to regain? You never really stopped with engineering so I’m guessing that’s out of the way.”

“Yeah, but,” She hummed, tracing the warm cup with her fingers. “That wasn’t a hobby or something I liked to do, not at first at least. It was just like Samurai X, a way to show you guys I could do what you did, even better. It grew on me, but it’s kinda work too, I’m proud of it but nowhere near as passionate as Jay or Cyrus Borg could be.” It was all about her tendency of holding onto the things she excelled at after all, the one obstacle that had almost cost her the true potential of her element. Despite her steps forward, putting a difference between liking to be good at something and liking it was still a little complicated. Then again… “… maybe painting?”

Cole grinned in surprise, Lloyd raised his head from his cup showing an impressive chocolate mustache – along with that black mug saying ‘It’s morning so you green and bear it’… and yes those mugs were all Jay’s presents.

“Whoa, where did that come from?”

“Yeah no offence, but you never stroke me as the artistic type.”

“None taken, it’s not exactly something that I feel it belongs to me, but maybe that’s why I used to like it. Because it was so far I didn’t have to think too much about it.” Nya smiled, taking another sip. “Remember the second Steep of Wisdom Wu opened in the middle of Ninjago City? To attract more customers I decided to work on a mural, right on the side. I don’t even know why, I just bought paint, brushes and a suit and started.”

“Oohh, I remember the one!” Lloyd snapped his fingers, the marshmallow in his cocoa shaking in the movement. “It was the one with the big majestic Wu serving the customer, I thought he hired an artist for it! That was cool!”

“You’re not saying it just because you’re my little brother, right?”

“Oh no, if it was ugly I would make a manifest all about it exactly because I’m your little brother. Brotherly code, smack talk every time it’s possible.” And then he fist bumped with his earthly brother nearby, wearing that same stupid grin. “But seriously, you were good at it. We finally have some free time to our hands, maybe it could be a good time for a new work. We still need the mural of that Day of the Departed where Cole turned back human after all, since those monks decided they had ‘lost the harmony of the inspiration’.” No one had been happy with leaving that important adventure behind – too bad they were in a monastery, a place of peace.

Cole hummed mindlessly, munching a marshmallow.

“Tell you what, how about we buy drawing and painting materials together for Christmas shopping?” He chugged down his drink, releasing a very satisfied sigh before leaning his back softly over the couch. “It’s usually Zane or Pix, we could take over for once and no, don’t give me that look water lily, it’s not for buying an extra cake and yes, do give me that look greenie, if you come along we’re so escaping and get to the sweet shop.” And there it came, another fist bump.

She had signed up for this.

She had signed up for this the moment she had let herself being overtaken by a bunch of skeletons, a past hit on her pride that to this day made her want to take a bone and break it in halves every time she thought about it – sports were going to be massacres, she was kinda looking forwards to it.

“I’m bringing leashes for you two vampires with sweet teeth, but it’s not a bad idea. And I like the mall in this period, it could even bring some inspiration as to what to paint.”

“How did you decide the first time?”

“I just thought of a simple design to get more clients.” Nya finished her drink, giving her eyes to a very curious looking blonde, thinking that it had been so long. It had always been so long, every single time she reevoked a part of her life, even though she was still so young. It was that eventful. “I worked on that project all day… but after it melted under the sun, it got ruined because of the wind and a lightning decided to strike it right in the middle, I just splashed it with all the colors I had and spinjitzued the heck out of it.”

“… rage, the mark of an artist.” Lloyd snickered, then he froze, suddenly beaming at the two. “Hey, why don’t you two work on something together? Cole makes the drawing and you paint it, it could be like a Christmas gift or something!”

Nya popped her mouth opened. How did they never think of that? How did they never while they had been battling villain after villain after villain after- Oh, there was the answer.

She turned to the master of earth, who looked just as engaged with the idea, if not more.

“Heck yeah, let’s do it! I can sketch a few ideas!”

“I do have colors I never got to try last time…”

“And I know mom got a few old frames that didn’t get accepted by the museum, I’m sure we can find a good one for this.” Lloyd grinned, scratching his cheek. “It’s almost weird putting up a plan for something other than defeating evilness…”

“Maybe, doesn’t make it any less good.” Cole winked at the two of them, looking inspired. And it was so good to see her brothers so high-spirited, and being happy with them. “… aha, I got one!” The master of earth hurried to the notebook, scrabbling quickly while the green ninja leaned his chin over his shoulder to see better, and the master of water did the same with her elbow on the other side. There was no other noise besides the pencil moving, and the suddenly more vivid voice of the rest of their family not too far away.

Peace was an abstract concept, it was in her life at least. But at least this moment, this situation, this instant, for Nya this was hers. And she wanted to make the most of it.

“… is that Jay getting entangled into the Christmas lights while doing spinjitzu?”

“Yeah? Is that the ‘should I punch you now or later for stupidity’ frown?”

“Nah, it’s the ‘what shade of color better depict bad life decisions’ frown.”

#ninjago #ninjago secret santa 2020 #ninjago cole #ninjago lloyd #ninjago nya #lloyd garmadon #cole bucket #cole brookstone #nya smith #ninjago fic #fanfiction #christmas fic

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beautifulmadnesss · 5 years ago

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“Make Peace With Your Feelings” JJ Imagine Part 5

Summary: Olivia is the younger sister of John B and has always followed along with the Pogues. JJ was like a second brother to her and often crashed at their place. She really struggles after her fathers disappearance and she starts to self destruct, even JJ is having a hard time getting through to her.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Neither of us really said anything on the boat ride back to our house. I didn’t want to admit that seeing the Royal Merchant gave me hope that dad might actually be out there and John B was disappointed about not finding the gold. Of course as soon as we walked in the door our social worker was waiting for us. John B immediately started rambling and talking his way out of it, while I just watched, resigned to our fate. We were stupid to think there was anything we could do to stop it.

“Just shut up.” I told him after a minute. “We’re being split up and there is nothing we can do about it. Let’s just go pack our shit.” I didn’t wait for his response, I just went to my room and shut the door.

“I’m sorry Olivia, but you have to keep the door open,” Sheryl said, standing in the now open doorway. I just scoffed and went back to shoving random shit in my bag. I thought about trying to sneak some alcohol while Sheryl wasn’t looking, but one glance at her told me that wasn’t going to work. I grabbed the photo of my dad holding me and my brother on the beach when we were little and followed Sheryl and the Sheriff out to the car.

We weren’t far out of the driveway when John B caught my eye. He was holding the picture of dad he had near the open window. I wasn’t sure what he was trying to tell me, but I watched him as he purposefully let the picture fall out the window and made a show of it.

“Please, you have to stop the car, it’s all I have left. Please!” He begged and surprisingly Sheryl gave in and told the deputy to pull over. He got out to look for it and John B asked if he could help. This time she didn’t immediately give in but after a moment she unlocked the door. John B smiled at me and quickly motioned to his seatbelt. I finally caught on and unhooked mine at the same time he did his, grabbing my bag in my other hand. He opened his door and bolted out. I knew I couldn't make it around the car and it’d be harder to catch us if we split up, so I ran the opposite way of him out my door and headed for JJ’s place.

I didn’t stop running until I made it to where he and Pope were talking behind the shed.

“What the hell did you do? Running from the cops?” JJ teased.

“Actually yeah. Social worker showed up to take us into foster care, so I guess I’m officially a fugitive.”

“Okay well Kiara is making us go to that summer beach movie so you can come to that, incognito.” he put his hat on my head and then took a step back. “After you shower.” I glared at him.

“Sorry I didn’t have time to do my hair and makeup while being kicked out of my house and fleeing from child services.”

“I’m kidding,” he said as Kiara pulled up. Pope headed to the car and I went to follow, but JJ stopped me. “I know I ask you this all the time and you hate it, but-”

“I’m fine. We avoided foster care for now, but eventually we’re going to have to do more than just keep running. I don’t even have anywhere to stay.” I looked up at him hopefully, but he quickly looked away.

“I’m sure you can crash with Kie. Have a slumber party and shit,” his teasing tone did little to cover the tension. His dad was a drunk and barely around. I knew he was caught up in some shady stuff, but I still didn’t get why he wouldn’t offer to let me stay with him.

“Yeah, of course.” I replied sourly. He sighed and started to say something else, but I just hopped in the front seat of the car, throwing my bag on the floor. Kiara looked over at me questioningly, but I just put my feet on the dash and looked out the window.

Part of me thought I was being irrational. Just because he’s my boyfriend or whatever didn’t mean he needed to let me stay at his house, but I was also pissed that he was just trying to pass me off. He only seemed to care about me when it was convenient for him. I just felt alone.

“Aren’t you guys glad I made you come?” Kiara asked as she set her chair down in the grass. Pope shifted uncomfortably, glancing around like a paranoid freak and JJ was just watching me. “Okay, well I’m going to go get some drinks,” she said awkwardly, though none of us were really listening.

JJ sat on the blanket next to me as soon as she walked away. “I’m sorry about earlier. I just,” he paused and bit his lip. “I know I can be kind of a dick sometimes and I act like I’m this ladies man-” I was unable to suppress a giggle at that and he bumped my shoulder with his teasingly. “Okay, fine, but what I’m trying to say is that even if I act like I don’t care sometimes, you are the only girl I’ve ever liked and now that you’re my girlfriend, I don’t want to screw it up.”

My heart was racing and my stomach was doing so many flips I could barely concentrate on what I was trying to say, so I just leaned in and softly kissed him.

“So I just ran into Rafe,” Kiara interrupted, collapsing into her chair. I tensed up, immediately looking around for him. After scanning the crowd for a few moments I found him sitting in the back with Topper and Kelce. He caught my eye and winked at me making my skin crawl. “I’m sorry JJ tell me that you didn’t bring a gun here, there are children.” Kiara growled. I had clearly missed some of the conversation as JJ was now holding up his bag to Pope who looked terrified.

I turned away from JJ who was still arguing with Kiara to accuse Pope, “you swore you wouldn’t say anything.” I whispered angrily.

“I didn’t!”

“Then why did JJ bring a gun here and is freaking out about Rafe?” He contemplated for a second too long, so I smacked his arm. “Pope, I trusted you!”

He blurted out, “JJ and I went back after we dropped you off and sunk Toppers boat.”

“Are you insane?” I didn’t bother to control my volume this time.

“What the hell did you guys do?” Kiara cut in.

Pope leaned across my lap to get closer to Kiara, “it might go down tonight,” he said ominously.

“What does that mean?” She asked just as the movie started to play, removing the chance for either of them to answer, but I heard JJ whispering deny to Pope.

A few minutes into the movie JJ grabbed put his arm around me and after a little while I relaxed against his chest, smiling to myself. Maybe I was overreacting earlier.

“JJ, I gotta go.” Pope whispered over halfway into the movie. “They’re blocking the bathroom.” He added in a panicked voice after looking back at the three boys who were definitely strategically placed so that they would have to walk by them to go to the bathroom.

“Okay, uh, follow me.” JJ removed his arm and stood up in a crouch.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

He didn’t know that Pope told me why the kooks were pissed at them, so he was clearly anxious. “Going to wring it out.”

Kiara scoffed, “what are you going to do hold it for each other?” They didn’t answer, just walked over to the trees behind the screen.

Kiara was trying to watch the movie, but I just kept watching the edges of the screen waiting for them to come back. Rafe honestly terrified me and I felt more vulnerable than I cared to admit without JJ.

“Kie, we gotta go.” I said nervously as I saw Topper disappear behind the screen where JJ and Pope were.

She followed my eyes, “do you know why they're freaking out?”

“Yeah, but I don’t have time to explain, we have to go now.” My fear only intensified when I went to stand up and hit my foot against JJ’s bag. “Shit.”

I grabbed the bag, sliding it over my bag and as quickly as possible without drawing attention to us followed the path to where the boys were. Once we were close enough to hear the grunts of pain I broke into a run.

Kelce was holding JJ by his elbows while Rafe sent blow after blow into his stomach. Without thinking I jumped on the back of Kelce and reached down to pry his hands off JJ. In my peripheral vision, I saw Kiara pick up JJ’s bag that had fallen off my shoulder and use it to hit Topper who was wailing on Pope. Kelce reached down to pull me off him, successfully making him let go of JJ who was then able to fight back against Rafe. I wouldn’t let go, I just kept hitting him wherever I could while hooking my feet against his stomach. Suddenly, I felt his momentum moving backward and was confused until I felt the air leave my lungs as he propelled both of us back into a tree. I fell down and Kelce went back to pinning JJ in place so Rafe could beat the shit out of him. Kiara and Pope were fighting against Topper, who was choking Pope.

I heard JJ let out a grunt of pain. I was completely helpless and furious until I spotted JJ’s bag on the ground. The gun. I reached into the bag and pulled it out. It felt heavier than I expected. My heart was pounding against my chest and seemed to echo with the sounds of the fight. Was I really going to shoot someone?

“Stop it!” Kiara screamed. “You’re killing them.”

I shoved the gun back into the bag and pulled out the lighter instead, fumbling with it to get it to light. Finally the flame sparked and I tilted the lighter so it would ignite the screen. Once it took hold, it spread fast.

Screams echoed in the background and I grabbed the bag before scrambling over to where the fight was breaking apart. JJ and Pope were both gasping for air while Rafe, Topper, and Kelce were retreating while still calling out threats that it wasn’t over.

“Are you okay?” I asked JJ, offering him my hand.

“Yeah,” he coughed. “Nice one.” He nodded at the screen that was being quickly devoured by the flames.

We walked over to collect the rest of our things with Pope and Kiara as sirens crept closer and closer. Pope got in the front with Kiara, while I sat in the back with JJ.

The whole ride to JJ and Pope’s houses, the three of them chatted about what happened and filled Kiara in, while I silently cried and tried to still my trembling hands. We were almost there by the time JJ looked over at me and saw.

“Liv, what’s wrong?” He asked quietly, although Kiara and Pope clearly noticed as well, but they kindly started a loud conversation between the two of them.

“I was going to do it,” I choked out. “I was going to kill him.”

JJ moved closer to me and held me tightly. I completely broke down, terrified of what I had just confessed. Rafe was horrible, but if I was willing to kill him when there were other options, what did that make me?

#Outer Banks #outer banks imagine #obx #obx imagine #jj #JJ Imagine #jj maybanks #jj maybanks x reader #imagine #john b #John b Rutledge #John b Rutledge imagine

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stevenuniversetanzanite · 5 years ago

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Ally x Cordelia X Reader (Part 1)

This was inspired very loosely of fanfic of the same ship I’ll link it when I find it again. It being me what's to make it as extreme and niche as possible.

Anyways, stay safe, wash your hands and maybe enjoy this first part to a story.

Also I haven't seen much of cult so Ally is mostly based off fanfics and my own creativity. I'll get around to it eventually just haven't gotten the time yet.

Summary: The three of you have had your fair share of troubles but what will happen when all your pasts’ come to for the foreground.

Warning: N/A

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four (will be added when posted)

"Ally?" You stared at her confused. Why did she look petrified? In the low lighting, you couldn't see the redness in her eyes or the tears leaking from them. Her hands gripped your shoulders tightly. Your eyes darted around the room trying to piece together what was going on. Last thing you remembered you went to bed cuddling your girlfriend, wishing your other one was there. Alas, she was out on council business and didn't give a time she would be back. Ally's right hand landed on your check, drawing your attention back to her. "Why are we in the infirmary?"

"I was kind of hoping you could answer that."

You worked in your other girlfriend's school infirmary. It wasn't much of an infirmary, it had one bed, a cupboard full of various medical supplies and medical textbooks, a bench, desk and chair, a skeleton in the corner with a Santa's hat on you hadn't removed from Christmas and most importantly, a jar full of lollipops for the younger students (and older ones but don't tell anyone).

You looked over to the bed checking to see if anyone was down here you had to check on. If there were really hurt or need extra surveillance/care you'd keep the girl down here for the night instead of setting them up in their room.

"Uh~"

"I found you standing here staring down at the bed as if someone was in it,” Ally told you. You glanced down at the bed before looking back at her.

“I-I don’t know what to say.” You didn’t know what she wanted to hear. You were the doctor here, you knew what she was most likely thinking, sleepwalking, but a large number of sleepwalkers can remember the reasoning behind their actions. Maybe you weren’t one of them. You probably weren’t- it’s a one-time thing, that’s all.

Ally went to say something when the two of you heard a jingle of keys at the door, distracting both of you. She told you to stay there but you weren’t going to listen. It was your job to protect the school when Cordelia was out, you needed to make sure it was her and not someone breaking it. You passed Ally, standing underneath the door frame and poked your head into the hallway giving yourself perfect sight of the front door.

Three bodies crept into the Coven, whispering amongst themselves. Exhaustion evident on the two younger girls. Zoe was the first to enter, closely followed by Queenie and Cordelia. In the early hours of the morning, none of them expected you to be up. Zoe was the first to spot your presence, her face deadpanning on sight, she nudged your girlfriend and Supreme, then motioned to you.

None of the teachers were happy about your long hours. They had all found you passed out in random locations during the day, or covered one of your few classes to ensure you get some decent sleep.

These women weren’t just your colleagues but your friends. The coven was one big family, more so now that Cordelia runs it. You all took care of each other. Some prices had to be paid to keep calm. Sleep was one of them.

“Y/N, What are you doing up so late?” She asked once she settled her belongings down by the front door. She walked over to you, you met her halfway. She placed a kiss on your check, concerned why you were up in the early hours of the morning. “Did a student get hurt?”

Ally took your place under the door’s archway, leaning against the white frame. Cordelia was less surprised that both of you were up. On the nights where you had to remain in your office/medical bay hybrid (or woken at an ungodly hour because someone would need you), Ally wouldn’t want to go to bed until you returned. She had a constant urge to take care of you. It may be due to you being the youngest (13 years younger) or you’re innocent, naive personality (similar to Cordelia before she became supreme). Cordelia would have to convince Ally that you would be fine up alone and you’d return to bed as soon as your job was done.

They both saw aspects of themselves in you which helped draw them to you, they were already going out before you returned to the academy. At times, they treated you like you were their child, all you had to do was tell them off and they would stop.

Without Cordelia present to keep her in bed, she had no one to hold her back. It must have been an all-nighter, Ally tended to be a deep sleeper if she falls asleep cuddled up with one if not both of them. Cordelia couldn’t be further off.

“Everyone’s fine, all girls in bed like there supposed to-”

“What are you doing up then?”

“Y/N-” Ally went to answer the question for you when you cut her off.

“-is completely fine.” You hugged her before she had a chance to think, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too sweetheart.” Cordelia looked over to the other woman, giving her a look of confusion. With every second that passed, she grew more doubtful of words that left your mouth. Cordelia broke away, she moved to Ally to greet her in a similar way, a kiss on a cheek and a hug. This one was shorter, you had clung onto the blonde woman while the brunette was more focused on keeping her close enough for her to hear her whisper, “I need to talk to you later.” Cordelia gave her a nod of acknowledgement and whispered something back to make it seem that she had whispered a “welcome home”. Neither wanted you to catch on.

“You must be exhausted after flying, we should head to bed,” You said.

“Actually, I could really use a bath,” Cordelia admitted.

“That can be arranged, dear,” Ally said. “Baby, do you think you could start her bath? She does always say you make the best ones.”

“You do,” she agreed, smiling warmly at you.

You looked between the two. Ally wanted some time alone, as soon as she was gone she was going to tell Cordelia. There was no putting this off. You decided to be a doll and carry up Cordelia’s bag for her while the other two head to the kitchen to get a drink.

“You should have seen her, her eyes, I’ve never seen them like that before. They stared straight through me.” Cordelia just sat there listening to the brunette voice her concerns. In all the years Cordelia had known you, she had never once heard about you sleepwalking. You had no history of it as a child when you originally joined the academy, she would have been warned and you hadn’t done it in your 18 months back. “I knew I should be concerned”

“Ally, it was just once-”

“How do you know? It could have happened any of the other times she got up in the middle of the night. We wouldn’t know because you keep me in bed.”

“All we can do at the moment is keep an eye on her. If she does it again we’ll put in some protection measures so she doesn’t get hurt.”

“Like locking the door?” They both knew they couldn’t do that, their door was always unlocked in case Oz or one of the girls needed them.

“Something like that,” Cordelia said. “It’s been a while, we better head up.”

Neither raised any concerns with you. You almost thought Ally didn’t tell her but there was this look that Cordelia would give you, only for a second before morphing into something else to mask it. She knew but didn’t find it important to bring it up. Not yet anyway.

It was two weeks later, you were falling asleep at your desk. You had a lot of free time during school hours. You didn’t teach many classes, you offered students a free place to chill if class got too much or if they got hurt. It wasn’t uncommon in a school of young, inexperienced witches for someone to get hurt and be sent down (that’s why you spent the school hours in your office) and a drop-in or two a day wasn’t uncommon. You always advertised yourself to be a free pair of ears, acting a free unqualified counsellor.

Majority of the time, you picked up Ally’s son Oz from school, and helped him with his homework before dinner. Sometimes Cordelia picked him up if a girl needed tending to or nether if he stayed at a friends house. It was a Friday night, Ally allowed him to stay at his friend’s house for the night. If nothing to preoccupy your time, you decided to take a quick nap at your desk.

You woke up, the whole school was dark. You must have slept through dinner. You were sure Cordelia would have woken you, oh well, she probably got caught up with paperwork. You exited the medic bay, heading to the kitchen. You thought you would have run into one person on your way. You pulled out the fruit infused water jug from the fridge and poured yourself a glass. You took a huge gulp of it, you were thirsty. It took a moment for the taste to set in. Metallic? You looked down at your glass and it was red. You stopped yourself from spitting out right there, instead, you dashed to the sink. You emptied the glass and left it for someone to clean it up properly later. You wiped your mouth on the tear nearest tea-towel. On your way to find someone, you tossed the blood-stained tea-towel into the laundry.

Everyone must have been out, not a student insight. You were about to entire Cordelia’s office when you heard a familiar woman’s voice coming from upstairs. You release the handle, venturing up the curved staircase. The voice beckoned you closer. Then two. You stopped dead in front of Oz room. You hesitated.

Someone you never thought you were going to see again stood behind that door. If she was here, the others must be nearby. A small four years old sat on the ground looking through one of Oz’s comic books he left out. She was as she were before the world crumbled. You knelt down before the girl, she pointed to the comic book and asked you if you could read it to her.

“Only if you take me to your mother.”

“Story first.”

“Alright, but only one issue,” you gave in. You gave one look at the comic, the comic wasn’t appropriate for the four-year-old whatsoever. “I think this comic is too old your you.”

“But I’m four!”

“And I’m 31.”

“Your old~”

“Yeah, I bet you can’t even count to 31.”

“I can! Mommy taught me.” She began to count, only getting two out of order. You praised her once she finished. She grinned widely, showcasing her missing front tooth. Silence fell among the two. “My brother cries a lot.”

“You don’t have a-”

“Yeah, and a sister.”

“No, you don’t.”

You heard footsteps coming towards the room. You remained quiet much to the girl beside you’s displeasure. Your eyes locked on the door, waiting for the person to A, pass or B join the two of you.

Then it struck you, why was she in Oz’s room? You were about to ask here when a shadow blocked the little light from flooding into the room. The silhouette of someone, a woman, cradling something in their hands, a baby? You couldn’t tell as their body was shrouded in darkness.

You started at them blankly for what seemed like forever, when you heard voices calling your name, coaxing you back to them. They didn’t belong to the people in the room, so who did they belong too?

“Y/n? Who were you talking too?”

Your eyes fluttered closed, when they opened they were gone.

"Huh?" There was a hand rubbing on your shoulder and it didn't belong to the brunette in front of you. You turned your head to see your other girlfriend soothing you with the rhythmic motion. "What are you doing here? I didn't realise it was that late," this was directed at the brunette in front of you.

"Cordelia called me home earlier," Ally responded.

"I was worried," Cordelia added.

"Why? I didn't do anything wrong." You looked between the two of them confused.

“Of course you didn’t sweetie,” Cordelia reassured, pulling you into her lap. Ally looked at her disapprovingly, coddling you wasn’t helping any of you get to the bottom of this. She knew they couldn’t rush you, but there would reach a time where they would have to push and Ally knew she was going to have to be the bad guy, whether Cordelia joined her, well, that will only be told with time. Ally sighed and moved closer, closing the gap between the three of you. She brushed a few of the hairs on your face back, adding it to the section Cordelia was combing her hand through. When she moved her hand away, you reached out to hold it, playing with one of the rings on her fingers.

“We’re just concerned-”

“Some of the girls told me you were acting oldly, interrupted a class-”

“Not intentionally,” Ally interrupted.

“Not intentionally,” Cordelia repeated. “You wouldn’t respond to anyone… we found you talking to yourself.”

“What are you doing in Oz's room anyway? You know he’s not home.”

“Nothing, no reason. I’m fine.”

“We didn’t ask you if you were fine.”

“And everything is pointing to you not being. You know you can talk to us right?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

“So why don’t you?”

“It’s nothing. Honestly guys, I’m fine, probably didn’t get enough sleep.”

“Okay,” they both said. They would really have to keep an eye on you now. You could be stubborn when you wanted to be. Neither of them could keep an eye on you 24/7, if it gets any worse, Cordelia may have to employ some of her girls to keep tabs on you. Last time, she was told you did it it was night, but today it was mid-afternoon. She knew if she told the other teachers and pupils like Mallory and Coco, they would inform her the second something odd happens. She hoped it wouldn’t go that far. She prayed that you would talk to them before it got to that. It would save you the embarrassment.

“I’ll take her to bed, you go and check on the girls. Assure them she’s fine,” Ally said to Cordelia as she lifted slightly you off the blonde. She helped you to stand, allowing you to lean heavily on her. You wrapped your arms around her and clung for dear life. You hadn’t realised how tired you were until you stood. You had a tendency to grow cuddly when tired which the both- mainly Ally loved.

You didn’t pay too much attention to her words. You buried your head in the crook of her neck trying to get closer to her. “Why are you so soft?” You mumbled out causing the woman still on the ground to chuckle. “How is this possible? Delia, feel how soft Al’s skin is.”

“Maybe another time,” Cordelia responded. A time when they were both awake and more lively.

“I should definitely take her to bed,” Ally laughed at your absurdity.

“Do you need any help darling?” Cordelia asked Ally.

“Yes please, love. I fear Y/N’s not going to last the trip.”

You yawned, shutting your eyes. Cordelia helped Ally move you to the bedroom. They eased you onto the bed, Ally went to get you two some more comfortable clothes while Cordelia stripped you of your day clothes. You whined, wanting her to leave you alone so you could go to sleep. She shushed you, took the clothes handed to her and dressed you in an oversized t-shirt and shorts. Behind Ally, in the walk-in closet, Ally removed her pants suit and dress in more casual clothing. When she got back to you, you were trying to convince Cordelia to join.

“I can’t sweetheart, I have work to do.” You groaned in annoyance. Ally scolded you for your reaction. Despite being peeved at her for telling you off you still cuddle into Ally when she laid down next to you. Cordelia leaned down and placed a kiss on your forehead, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She moved onto Ally, kissing her on the lips before sashaying towards the door.

Next Part :)

#ally mayfair richards x reader #cordelia foxx x reader #cordelia x reader #cordelia goode x reader

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fiction-in-my-blood · 4 years ago

Text

MC and Estranged Father (Scandel In The Spotlight)

This isn’t really a HC or coupley thing, just an idea I had and couldn’t stop writing. I hope you enjoy it and I would love to hear your thoughts!

~~~~~~

It had been a dreary few days in the Revance house. Masami’s temper was far shorter than usual, ever since she got a letter in the mail that she wouldn’t even let Nagito see. Not even when Kyohei teasingly threatened her. She was too distracted by the contents and no one knew why. It was like her current mood had affected the beautiful spring weather. It had been raining cat and dogs for the past week!

The contents of the letter, from her father, were locked away in Masami’s desk draw. He had rarely been around in her childhood. He was a workaholic, who somehow had time for plenty other women than her mother. He sent her money on her birthday and hardly ever showed up to her parent-teacher conferences- his excuse was being on the other side of the world at a concert he was holding. They always seemed to occur in the most important times in her childhood.

She still got those montetary gifts on her birthday- it was the only one she got this year as no one else in the house actually knew it was her birthday and since her mother passed, she didn’t care much for it. But, this year was different. This time, it came with a note.

That letter expressed his regret for the way he treated her and her mother- the two had never married as Masami was an accident, but he was a man with pride and would support his own offspring no matter what. Financially anyway. Masami didn’t care much for an apology from the man she hardly knew anything about except for what the press told her. Her mother was a kind woman who never told her anything bad about him, so she grew up not believing anything she told her. This man didn’t even come to her mother’s funeral, why was he suddenly getting friendly now?

However, the thing that really angered her about that massage was his wish to meet her. He had somehow found out she was living with a group of male superstars, and she wasn’t sure how. However, knowing his connections in the industry, it was likely someone from Revance’s managerial company. Her father was his own type of superstar, however slightly niche to the younger generations.

The letter told her he would be visiting the house on a specific day, after he finished one of the last concerts he said he was ever going to do. He told her he was quiting performing his music to the masses and was going to concentrate on the personal life he had abandoned for too long. Masami thought it was too late for that, but she wasn’t going to make herself scarce- it would just cause trouble for the others for a random stranger to show up on their doorstep, asking for her.

So, on that faithful day a week after the gloominess on the usually ‘peaceful’ house settled, the rain had finally let up. Not metaphorically, physically. Masami was in an even worse mood than she had already been and the sky outside was covered in white clouds, but at least the plant life wouldn’t, or shouldn’t, be flooded today.

“Hey, um, Masami... Are you feeling okay?” Nagito sheepishly approached her as she sat at the dining table, where she had holed herself up lately. At the beginning of this week-long, slient, rampage, the dirty idol had been able to tease her without trembling in fear of her wrath. Now, he was too scared to even speak in her presence.

She had been trying to distract herself with work until the door bell rang, but it wasn’t much use. This was like the worst type of writer’s block she had ever had. She could write just fine, just not the stuff she should be writing. The lyrics she wrote were hateful and annoyed when she should be writing about young love and growing old with your significant other. Takashi definitely wouldn’t be happy if he saw the scrawlings in her journal.

“Just peachy.” The sarcasm was thick in her venomous words, not looking up to see the rest of Revance grouped together behind Nagito, peering and waiting to see what would happen next. Lets just say he lost a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors.

“Th-That’s great!” Not knowing what else to say, Nagito retreated, only to get rapped up the side of his head.

“That did nothing!” Kyohei glared in a hushed tone, not wanting Masami to know he had sent in one of his lieutenants to gather information.

“But Kyoo~, I don’t know what else I can do! She didn’t even blush when she walked in on me in the shower room yesterday.” Nagito sulked. It wasn’t like Masami to get used to the sight of his body and he knew she was too deep in thought in the moment to even see him. She almost started stripping herself before he could escape. The loud and long sigh she let out didn’t go unnoticed, but he was much too scared to ask at the time.

Before the boys could go about hashing another plan to find out what had been bugging her so much, the door bell rang.

“I’ll get it.” Kota grumbled, being the closest. However, just as he was getting up, he was pulled back down by an unbelievable force on his shoulder.

“It’s not for you.” Masami glared down at him and even Iori showed a look of bewilderment at the harshness of her eyes. It was like they could see fire raging behind them.

Masami wasted no time in leisurely strolling to the door, although in her head it was the hesitance to open it that made her so slow. She really, really didn’t want to see her father or hear anything he had to say to her, not after her mother died, but what was the use of pushing him away? One thing she believed about her father that her mother had told her is that he persistent and ambitious. How else could you become one of the most famous and sort after composers in the world?

With a growling sigh, she forced herself to let her hand rest on the door handle before turning it, throwing it open just to get this awkward reunion over with.

Only, the victim of her contempt wasn’t her father, but none other than the group’s kind-hearted manger. “M-Mr Sasayama?” She finally showed an expression other than irritation, which was shock and shame. Sasayama had an astonished look of his own face to see the usually happy, yet sometimes defeated, girl so angry.

“Masami, have the boys been difficult? Do you want me to intervene?” He was quick to offer his help, but that only reminded Masami why she had opened the door in the first place. She almost felt like tearing up, but she promised herself she wouldn’t. Her father didn’t deserve to hurt her like he had.

“No. No, thank you, Mr Sasayama, I’m fine. Would you like to come in?” She forced herself to smile, just to get someone off her back for a bit so she could sort out her thoughts and emotions. The constant questioning and seemingly worried members had been grinding on her already worn nerves and she certainly didn’t need any sympathy from someone else she looked up to.

As Sasayama was walking through the door she held open, her expression falling just while his back was turned, another voice called out from the street. Both turned, both surprised by what they saw. It was a man, no surprise there because the sound of Masami’s name had been very low, with greyed and some white stranded hair. It was long enough to reach the bottom of his ears, the front curtains pushed back by circular, black-framed glasses resting on top of his head. He held a fabric hat screwed up in his hands, either a beenie or a flat cap niether could tell. His face, wrinkled and aged by cigarettes, was contort in a worried expression, part of his bottom lip pinched between whitened teeth. He wore a grey blazer with black elbow patches, a black turtle neck and grey suit pants that matched his jacket. His whole aura was gloomier than the overcast weather.

“M-Masami?” Through panting breathes, the man’s tone was asking, unsure if the woman that stood before him was really his own flesh and blood. He shouldn’t be so unsure, she was the spitting image of her gorgeous mother- except for the unimpressed and stressed expression on her youthful face.

Masami didn’t let go of the door, nor did she make any move to voice an invite, so the manager that still stood beside her felt the need to speak up. “M-Mr Sakamoto! What are you doing here?” Sasayama couldn’t hold back his surprise to see such a world-renouned man standing at his band’s doorstep, the slightest shine on his forehead and the deepest crease between his brows.

“Mr Sasayama, go inside, would you?” Masami tried to be polite, but since she had calmed herself down from meeting the manager instead of her estranged family member, she had been caught off-guard. Her mood was a hundred times worse than moment before- if that was even possible.

“Miss Masami, I don’t th-.”

“Is he the one you asked?” Masami cut the man off, something she would never usually do, but she was just so pissed off. It was bad enough to suspect someone at the agency would leak information like this, but their own manager? He could have caused a lot more trouble than this mess.

“N-No, an old friend of mine...” Her father led off, awkardly avoiding eye contact as he felt himself relax. It was a relief to know he hadn’t just gone up to a random woman and assumed it was his daughter. One hand reached up to his neck to pull at the now suffocating fabric around it. For once he wished he had a different taste in fashion.

“Get in then. Or are you just going to stand there and waste more time than you already have with me?” After a sigh, Masami spat those words out like they were covered in deadly poison. Sasayama didn’t know what to say, nor did the men standing at the end of the hallway, having listened in to see what all the fuss was about. The composer gulped before nodding and Masami let him in, slamming the door behind him to try an let out some frustration.

After taking his shoes off, Masami guided him into the garden, the Revance boys escaping from her sight before she found out how they were about to invade her privacy. They would have discussed their confusion about the man’s appearance, some aware of who he was and some not, but they were too eager to speak in case they missed something in the tense conversation that was sure to arise.

Sitting across from each other at the outside dining table, Masami’s leg crossed over the other with her arms overlapping each other and the celebrity sitting with his hands clasped together and head drooped like some sort of pray, the two definitely didn’t seem any sort of related. It was like Masami was reprimanding him with just her decerning gaze, which was fair. The man had been an awful dad to her and a more than terrible lover to her mother. The minimum he had done for her was offer child support while telling her mother he loved her, which was definitely false if he was able to sleep with whatever woman came up to him after a show or red carpet.

“Are you going to start talking or do I need to gain clairevoyance?” Masami’s tone was dull and low, something the boys couldn’t hear but could definitely see her lips moving. Sakamoto shot up, his wrinkled hat crushed even more in his hands.

“Ye-Yes... Yes, sorry, I’m the one who asked to meet you.” A quiet and unsure tone was odd for this man, not that any of them knew as no one had actually met him, but the rich aura he gave off gave them a clue he would usually be confident in himself.

“More like you announced you would be coming without even asking if I wanted to meet you.” Masami glared and Sakamoto almost felt like laughing if he wasn’t so scared. Her mother always had a stern glare when she was mad at him and Masami mimicked her so well. Instead, he settled on trying to hide a dopey grin.

“I knew you wouldn’t want to see me but I need you to know... I... I’m quiting composing.” This was a lot for her father to say and anyone could see that in the slight quiver in his voice. His posture was now straight, his true height bearing an air of sanguinity and positivity if he wore his usual confident grin.

“You said.” Masami couldn’t care less what this man did with his life, he didn’t when she was growing up. But she still didn’t know what he wanted her to know or why he was doing it. It did make her a little curious, but not enough to ask. Not enough to even allow him to think she cared.

“Yes, I guess I did. Well, I know I didn’t say I’m moving back to Japan.” The attempt to lighten the mood drastically failed when Masami’s facial expression didn’t change in the slightest. Sakamoto lived in Australlia. Masami was told she had gone to his house a few times, but she didn’t remember. She only remembered his absence.

“Why would you do that? Isn’t your life in Sydney?” Masami blurted out without thinking. The question gave her father a little hope.

“I know you hate me for what I did to you and your mother. I know I wasn’t a father to you. I know I ran away from that responbility. From raising you. And... I’m done running.” Sakamoto finally met her gaze with something other than defeat. He was determind to reconstruct the bridges he had burnt with his last living relative. It hadn’t been made public, but he had a health scare not only a month ago and it gave him the existential crisis he needed to realise how wrong he had truly been. He regreted what he had done and wanted to meet the woman his truest love had raised. Was that so wrong?

“Are you... Are you fucking kidding me?” Masami finally raised her voice for the first time she has been living in this house, and maybe ever, and that made everyone but her jump. She was a monster, standing up in an attempt to ease her fury. She didn’t like getting mad, but there was no other option when it came to this man.

“You didn’t come to my high school graduation. You didn’t come to my 18th birthday party. You didn’t even call me, ever, when I was growing up! Even after mom’s funeral I never heard from you on the subject except for a condolence letter! And you think you can come here and say some cliche words, which I’m sure I’ve heard in a movie, and think everything will be a-okay?” Masami started listing off her father’s shortcomings, even going the extra mile to raise a finger for each one. She paced back and forth, trying so hard not to cry. She was so, so mad...

And so, so happy. For once in her life she felt like her father loved her, or at least accepted her, even if they were just empty words. But, that made her feel guilty. The man that had ruined her mother’s life by abandoning her with a baby to raise on her own when she was just as young and as ambitious. She was a violinist, but she had to quit to take care of this girl that had fallen into her lap.

“I know I was an accident and you didn’t want children, but, god, even the worst parents stick around for their child. They don’t abandon them to a single mother with dreams of her own! She was too good to you, you know that right? She had nothing else but compliments for you! She made you out to be this hard working genius, even though you were in the tabloids every other week! And no amount of money is going to be able to pay back that pain.” Pulling a familiar envelope out of her back pocket, Masami slapped it on the table in front of her. It was far thicker than anyone else who had seen it remembered it being. It wasn’t even possible to seal it again.

“This is..?” Sakamoto led off as he picked up the envelope and peered inside, eyes wide at the millions of yen that were stacked there. Ever since Masami was her own person and made her own money, she never spent any of the money her father had sent her. She didn’t want to, she felt like it was blood-money, and she had waited for the day to shove it back in his face. Showing him she didn’t need him.

“It’s all the money you sent me since mom died. You can count it if you like. I don’t need it, I have my own job.” Masami scowled, crossing her arms in an attempt to reject anything further he would try to offer her.

“How... How did you do that?” Sakamoto was at a lost for words, the bills in his hand as heavy as the weight of the world. All that time he thought he was helping her and this is what happens?

“I sold stories to a publishing firm and comissioned poetry to couples. It’s not hard. I guess I got that creativity from you? It’s the only useful thing, anyway.” Avoiding eye contact, the boys darted out of the door way, hoping she hadn’t seen them before she looked in their direction. Even Sasayama had joined them now, although guiltily.

“...Masami... You need to take this.” Sakamoto’s tone was finally strong, his voice heavy with demand. The daughter jumped, surprised to hear those specific words and looked back at him to make sure she had heard him right. He seemed... angry?

“I don’t need it. I’m sure you’ll find a use for it, going into retirement.” Masami’s voice faltered for a moment, but her resolve to hinder any further reason for him to get in contact amped her up. There was no sign of her budging in the sterness of her own tone.

“Noriko-”

“Keep her name out of your mouth.” Masami was quick to interrupt her father from belittling her mother by reguarding her so casually. She may be dead, but that only made it worse. She wouldn’t be hear to defend herself.

“...I got a letter from your mother before she died.” Sakamoto sighed, placing the money softly on the table and reaching into his own back pocket. Sliding along the table under his fingertips was an old-looking piece of paper, the edges curled with time and what might have been stains from a clear liquid. When Masami snatched it from him and brought it to her face, she could smell the distinct scent of vodka.

Masami wasted no time in unfolding the letter apparently sent by her mother and instantly started tearing up at the familiar but forgetten handwriting. Her mother’s penmanship was poor, to say the least, but that didn’t mean it was illegible. Still, Sakamoto announced a summary on the letter, just in case.

“She told me to support you whole-heartedly and critised me for the I’ve done so far.” Sakamoto let out a low, soft chuckle at the memory of the only woman he’s ever loved. She was a strong person, stronger than him, and he knew he let her down. It’s what made the usually positive chortle sound so depressed.

“She told me to make sure you got through college, so I set up the scholarship program at the place she said you wanted to go to. She told me to help you find your first car, so I sent the money and a brochure. She told me to help you get your first job, but I didn’t even know what you wanted to be. She told me to do so many things that I hadn’t been able to do because I was selfish, and I’m still failing her. I... I loved her and I wasn’t there for her...” The weight of all those years of guilt pushed down on Sakamoto’s shoulders. Usually, if she wasn’t so distracted by the letter from beyond the grave right in front of her, Masami would be screaming bloody-murder so even suggested he cared for her mother. Abandoning someone isn’t love. It’s cowardice and fear. You can’t throw away someone’s life for a one-night stand and call it love. That’s what she believed.

“She sent me letters about you every year. Telling me how much you had grown and how you were doing in school. I never replied because I didn’t know what to say...” Sakamoto took a deep breath to go off on another tangent, but no words came when he saw his daughter, alone for so many years, with tears gliding down her face and onto the paper in her hands. She sniffled when she noticed him staring and turned, using the sleeve of her jumper to dry her face quickly.

“She was too good to you...” Her voice came out hoarse, both from her crying and yelling, and Sakamoto let out a relieved sigh to know she was too emotional to scream again.

“You said.” Was words that shouldn’t have been said, really, at such an emotional point in their relationship and how traumatic this was for Masami, but she couldn’t help but let out a low, breathy chuckle that no one heard or saw with her back still turned. He was as cocky as her mother had told her.

“... Masami?” Sakamoto called out again, his tone high and questioning once again, asking if it would be alright for him to speak again. Masami turned to see him reaching out for her, but the distance was too great for either of them to meet each other and he was still sitting down. She didn’t make a move towards him, but by holding his eye contact the composer knew he was permitted to continue.

“I know you hate me. You should. Really, you should never forgive me...” Sakamoto led off as he thought of things to say.

“This is meant to help your case?” Masami chuckled, turning fully towards him but not growing any closer. The boys remerged now that no one was looking in their direction.

“I ruined your mother’s life, and she gave me the greatest gift I could have asked for. She told me to keep composing and working to be the best I could be while she raised a daughter everyone could be proud of and happy to be around. She didn’t want to give up on her dream, but I, admittedly, gave her no choice. You’re right, I didn’t want children...." Even though he was a man with extraordinary talents, Sakamoto didn’t seem much to be one with words. He stumbled and shared too much, but Masami appreciated that about him. She had that same issue when she was writing her songs. She got too excited, wrote too much, and had to cut out a lot. It took practice and time to be able to just say what needs to be said without rambling.

Maybe...

Maybe that’s what their relationship needed?

“But I want to know you, Masami. We’re all we’ve got left and you’re all I have left of her. I’ll give up anything to prove to you I want to be your father.” Sakamoto met her discerning gaze with that same determinded glare he had given her moments ago. Now it was her turn to say the wrong thing before turning it around.

“You’ll never be my father.” The words drifted out of her mouth as she clenched her fists at her side, slightly crinkling the old, hardened letter in one hand. Sakamoto’s heart broke right there and then.

“My mother was my father. And my aunt. My sister. She was my best friend. She raised me as if we had a huge family and I never felt alone... But...” Masami stopped herself before she could go off on her own tangent, telling herself not to beat around the bush.

“... I guess you can work on becoming my dad?” Masami grew shy, clutching her hands in front of her as she glared at the ground. She had always wanted to know what he was really like. Who wouldn’t? It’s your father. Even if she hated him, if there was a chance, that little girl who didn’t have anyone to meet her first boyfriend and warn him about getting overly-friendly wanted to know him. The girl who didn’t have anyone to protect her at fairs when her mother as busy with work. The girl who wanted to play wrestle with her father but her mother was too tired to act like that. They wanted to have him in her life.

Sakamoto shot up the second he heard those words. Sure, he wasn’t a much for true affection, but one time couldn’t hurt, right? He inched closer to her, timidly lifting his hands up to her shoulders and closed them around her. He was stiff and awkward, not knowing how to hold his daughter.

Which made her giggle. She laughed and laughed at how formal her own father seemed and couldn’t keep it in. Her whole life was an extraodinary circumstance, so when everything got weirder, like now, when she was reuniting with the man she hated for so long, she couldn’t help but find it funny.

“You think she’s finally cracked?” Iori mumbled, cringing as he watched the babbling idiot trying to cover her tittering with her hand as the two leaned away from her.

“It really was a roller coaster, huh?” Nagito laughed sheepishly, earning another rap around the head for being so loud.

“I’m going to sleep.” Kota grumbled, acting tired and bored. Really, he wanted to get away before Masami surely noticed them in this sensitive time.

“Her dad’s Hanzo Sakamoto?” Takashi could help but mumble to himself as he glared at the ground. The famous composer was a sort of inspiration for him.

“Hopefully now she won’t bite our heads off the second we speak in front of her.” Kyohei sighed, getting up with the others but leaving a quick glance at the newly formed family in their garden. The skies cleared for weeks after that day.

#sits #scandel in the spotlight #kyohei rikudoh #nagito aoshima #kota igarashi #iori enjo #takashi ninagawa #voltage fanfic #voltage games

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