#sorry if this got cluttered or rambly just. Ugh. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

serendipitoustae · 4 years ago

Text

What Your Father Says

pairing : alt band! taehyung x reader

genre : college au, established reationship, fluff, implications of smut but not that explicit

word count : 7.8k

summary: your father doesn’t want you to be with taehyung but you simply do not care

a/n: loosely inspired by the vamps song because all i could think about whilst listening to it was rebellious teen romance.

“That ridiculous band have been wreaking havoc again” your dad sighed as he looked at the local paper whilst you ate your bowl of cookie crisp cereal. “Says here that they spray painted the local skate park before having a bonfire on the premises all for a silly little music video” he continued shaking his head.

“They were getting permission to do it” you told him before realising what you’d said “I mean I assume they did because they used to always ask before they did things for videos” you quickly added

Your boyfriend Taehyung was part of the local rock band that the majority of adults over 40 absolutely despised. They hated their style, their music and most importantly the so called trouble they caused in the name of art. Your dad had never been a fan of Taehyung no matter how polite he was whenever he came to your house. A couple months ago after you helped the band set off a load of fireworks in a car park, your dad forced you to break up with him. He didn’t want his precious little girl involved in that kind of thing. You’d never understood why he cared who you were with, he never cared about your life at all. He rarely even asked how your day was but to avoid arguments and tension in the house you “broke up” with Taehyung. As far as your dad knew you had no contact with him at all but of course you did. You weren’t going to break up with the boy you loved because your dad didn’t like him. Your mother knew you were still with him, she’d always loved Taehyung and was outraged when your dad suggested you broke up with him. She often covers for you when you go out with Tae and says you’re studying at a friend’s or simply that you’re ‘out’ because your dad really didn’t care that much about your whereabouts.

“I bet you’re glad you’re not involved with those trouble makers any more” your dad said as he turned the page of the newspaper

“Yeah I’m really glad” you said in a blunt tone before your phone went off

From: Mik

outside angel x

You’d changed Taehyung’s name in your phone to ‘Mik’, his last name backwards, so that if your dad saw your phone he wouldn’t know you were still with him. You looked out of the window and saw Jungkook’s truck on your drive way, Jungkook was the bands lead singer and despite being the youngest he was often the designated driver. Taehyung used to always drive you to college but since you ‘split up’ he’s been riding with JK so your dad didn’t recognise the car.

“Namjoon’s here I’ll see you later” you said

You always used your best friend Namjoon as a cover up for anytime you were going out with the band. Your dad loved Namjoon and often asked why you’d chosen to date Taehyung over him as he was so intelligent and sensible.

“Bye, send Namjoon my regards” your dad said not looking up from the paper as you left

“I will” you said as you walked out of the front door.

You opened the back door of JK’s truck and were instantly met with the sound of ‘something in the way’ by Nirvana one of the band’s biggest inspirations. Taehyung was sat in the back behind JK just in case your dad ever happened to look in the car. He didn’t actually know what the other band member’s faces looked like so if he saw JK you’d be able to lie about who he was.

“Hey baby” Taehyung grinned as he pressed a kiss to your lips the second you were sat next to him. You brought your hand up to cup his face as he nestled his ring cluttered hand in your hair and deepened the kiss

“Ugh! Guys come on it’s not even 9 am it’s too early for your pda” JK groaned from the driver seat next to Yoongi, the bands bass player.

“You’re just jealous you’ve not got a girl as hot as mine” Taehyung smirked as he wiped the remnants of your lip balm from around his mouth “is that strawberry flavoured?” he asked licking his lips to which you nodded “it’s nice” he said pressing another kiss to your lips. This one a lot shorter lived than the other.

“Can we just get to college before they fuck in the backseat” Yoongi groaned causing you and Taehyung to laugh.

The drive to college was fairly uneventful other than the boys talking about the big show they were playing at the end of the week. It was their biggest show yet and there would be a tonne of record labels scouting for new talent so to say they were nervous was an understatement.

“My dad heard about what you guys did at the skate park” you said

“Let me guess he said ‘aren’t you glad you aren’t with that absolute rapscallion Kim Taehyung anymore’” he said mimicking your dad with a pretty spot on impression

“Yeah pretty much” you laughed “you guys did get permission though right?”

“Of course we did, they said they’re thinking of demolishing the skate park soon so we’d be doing them a favour” JK explained.

When you got to college JK and Yoongi went straight to their music class but Taehyung walked you to your lesson as he always did even if it made him late.

“I’m perfectly capable of getting to class by myself you’re going to be late” you told him as you walked up the stairs to the art department

“It’s a music class, the teachers don’t give a shit about us so it doesn’t matter” he replied as you got to your class door

“If you get in trouble don’t blame me” you said

“I would never” he said as he pulled you into a quick kiss, you went to pull away as you knew your whole class was probably watching but he followed your lips and held you there for a bit longer

“I don’t think my whole class needs to see that” you laughed as you pushed his chest away from you

“Sorry that strawberry lip balm just tastes really good” he smiled licking his lips

“You can have it if you like it that much” you told him

“No it tastes better this way” he said quickly kissing you again

“Bye Tae” you said as you rolled your eyes and walked into your class.

Your lesson was off to an extremely boring start. There was only so long you could listen to your teacher talk about colour theory before you were ready do a Van Gogh and cut your ear off.

“I wish we could just get on and do some painting already” Namjoon whispered from his seat next to you, you agreed as you doodled on the page you were meant to be taking notes on. Even though he complained about it you could see Namjoon’s page was full of notes written in green biro.

Once you had finally got on with some painting your phone sounded from the pocket of your denim jacket.

“Phones on silent please” your tutor said, you knew it was Tae texting you because your phone was on silent but you had it on the setting so it would go off no matter what if it was him.

From: Mik

can you come outside please x

You looked up at the window of your class and saw Tae looking at you with his big puppy dog eyes. Despite the majority of your friends not caring for the school system at all you were somewhat of a goody two shoes. Tae was well aware of this so you knew he’d only want to get you out of class if he really needed to.

“Can I go to the toilet please sir?” you asked, your teacher said yes without even looking in your direction. You quickly left the class as you wanted to be out of class for as short a time as possible.

“I’m so so sorry I didn’t want to pull you out of class but I need to calm down because if I ditch again I’ll get expelled and I can’t get expell-“ Taehyung rambled before you interrupted

“Babe it’s okay what’s wrong?” you asked as the two of you began walking out of the art building

“So you know we’ve got that massive show on Friday, we wanted to practise for that in our lesson because obviously that’s our priority right now” Taehyung started as you entered the smoker’s area and he sat on one of the tables pulling out a box of cigarettes.

“Our teacher said we had to learn some shitty pop riff instead and obviously we should get an exception because we’re the only people in the class that actually give a shit about music but no, apparently they don’t give a shit about the biggest opportunity of our lives” he continued as he lit a cigarette with the lighter you’d painted for him and pressed it past his lips. The lighter had your own take on Van Gogh’s starry night as you knew Tae loved that painting. You’d done it so the moon was the Nirvana smiley face and you still remember the smile on Tae’s face when he’d received it for his birthday. After blowing out the smoke carefully to avoid getting any in your face he began speaking again.

“I refused to do the task and explained to the teacher why but she didn’t seem to care so she kicked me out for being disrespectful” he said taking another drag of the cigarette.

You felt bad for him, you really did. He’d gained such an awful reputation as a student for speaking out against the system. He hated being told what to do with an absolute passion. Obviously he listened to his teachers, but sometimes he just didn’t think they were fair and more often than not he was right. You stepped closer to him and rested your hands in the traffic light red hair at the back of his head, careful not to loosen his bandanna. You felt his entire body relax under your fingertips.

“I know you’re stressed about the show but I promise you could do it tonight and absolutely smash it so not much more practise is needed. I know it’s unfair and stupid that they won’t let you practise in your lesson but you’ve just got to suck it up, I know that isn’t what you want to hear but you know your parents will stop you from playing the show completely if you get in anymore trouble with school” you told him as you continued to play with his hair.

He sighed as he put his cigarette out in the ash tray beside him.

“I love you” he muttered as he dropped his head to rest on your chest “I’m sorry you have to put up with my bullshit”

You pressed a kiss to his head before pulling him up by a hand on his jaw so he’d look at you

“It’s not bullshit you’re passionate about your music and your teacher should understand that , I love you too please don’t think you’re something I have to put up with helping you is what I’m here for” you smiled

“Thank you, can you come over tonight please?” he asked

You knew you’d have to tell your mother in advance so she could make up a lie to your father as to why you weren’t home.

“Of course I can I’ve gotta get back to lesson are you gonna be okay?”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into a tight embrace

“Yeah I feel a lot calmer now sorry for keeping you from your lesson” he said as he released you

“Stop apologising I’m here for you okay?” you told him once again holding his face so his dark eyes were looking in yours

“Okay” he grinned before pressing a kiss to your lips

“I’ll see you later” you said walking back to into the art department.

“Was I gone for suspiciously long?” you asked Namjoon as you carried on with your painting

“No not really, is Tae okay?” Namjoon asked obviously having seen him outside before you left

“Yeah he just needed calming down but he’s okay now” you said

“You’re really good for him you know he’s been so much calmer since you two got together”

Namjoon and Taehyung were neighbours so they grew up together and were still best friends now. That’s how you’d met Taehyung in the first place.

“What’s that noise?” you asked Namjoon as you sat at his dining table studying

“Oh it’s Taehyung and his band” Namjoon told you.

You’d seen Taehyung around as you spent a lot of time at Namjoon’s so it was inevitable you’d see him every so often. You’d never really spoken to him though oddly. You were quite happy about that fact though, he was extremely attractive so much so that it intimidated you slightly.

“They sound good” you said

“We could go watch them rehearse if you wanted? I think we’ve earned a study break” he smiled as he closed his textbook and removed his glasses.

You loved the sound of whatever they were playing but you weren’t sure if you’d be able to cope watching Taehyung playing drums and actually being in his company.

“No it’s okay I’m sure they don’t want us intruding” you said

“Oh come on I know you’re just scared because you think Tae’s hot” Namjoon laughed

You looked at him with wide eyes and furrowed brows.

“Did you think I didn’t know? You think I don’t see you staring at him through the window every time he gets home” Namjoon chuckled

“Okay fine let’s go then” you said as you stood up pulling your oversized Kurt Cobain t-shirt down as you did so.

You and Namjoon walked over to Taehyung’s garage and Namjoon let himself in as you assumed he’d done hundreds of times before

“Hey guys this is Y/N she thought you guys sounded cool is it okay if we watch you rehearse for a bit?” he asked.

The garage was painted a dark blue and covered in old rock band posters, it actually looked quite similar to your bedroom. Once you’d taken in your surroundings you looked at the three boys before you. The guitar playing lead singer was smiling at you as was the bass player, it was the sort of smile that made you feel like they knew something you didn’t. You looked at Taehyung as he was sat behind his drum kit running his hands through his dark hair as he shot you a small smile.

“Yeah that’s fine” Taehyung said as he twisted his red drum stick round in between his fingers.

Namjoon introduced you to all the boys properly and Yoongi told you he liked your outfit even though it was simply just a long t shirt with some fishnet tights. You sat on the sofa opposite their set up and watched them perform a cover of ‘Paradise city’ by Guns ‘n’ Roses. You were surprised that you’d never been friends with any of the band considering their style and music taste was very similar to your own.

After that day you realised Taehyung wasn’t nearly as intimidating as you thought he was. He was actually really sweet which most people wouldn’t assume from his leather jackets and the multiple metal hoops in his ears.

It took around a month after officially meeting for you and Taehyung to get together. All the boys had said from the second you met it was obvious you two would get together as you were just perfect for each other.

When your lesson had finished and you were off to lunch you and Namjoon met the band at their usual table. Once you were sat down you texted your mum telling her you’d be going round Tae’s tonight.

“Would you be able to sleepover tonight?” Tae asked as he rested his arm on the back of your chair.

Sleepovers with Taehyung were always harder to get away with. Your father wouldn’t allow you to sleep round a boy’s house not even Namjoon’s and unfortunately you had no girl friends that you were close enough to that they would lie for you.

“I don’t know I’ll have to think of some sort of excuse” You told him

“I was thinking we should all get new piercings so we look cooler for the show” JK announced

“Yes I am up for that idea” you answered knowing the statement didn’t include you but you would love to see your boyfriend with more piercings. He already had loads in his ears and one in his tongue that he got done when you got your nose pierced. You still remember the horror on your dads face when you came home with studs on either side of your nose. That was probably the start of his hatred for Taehyung.

“What would you like me to get?” Taehyung said as he faced you. He was so open to things like tattoos and piercings and didn’t really make a big deal out of them.

“A nose ring maybe?” you suggested excitedly

“Okay gorgeous, do you wanna go after college?” he asked to which you nodded.

“I was thinking of getting my eyebrow pierced” Yoongi said

“Okay great I’ll get my nose done too” JK said

“Are you gonna join us?” Taehyung asked Namjoon

“I’d pass out if I even saw a needle so I think I’ll just go home” he said

Namjoon was very different to the rest of you, he had completely different style and completely different music taste but you were still all great friends which you couldn’t be happier about.

Once you’d finished college for the day all of you minus Namjoon piled into JK’s truck and made your way to the piercing shop. It wasn’t the most amazing place but it was cheap and you didn’t have to make appointments.

Yoongi and JK went in to get their piercings first as you went in two at a time.

“I’m gutted we can’t even post a cute photo of us having almost matching piercings after I get it done” Taehyung said as you sat on the black leather sofa in the shop.

The chances of your father seeing anything you or Taehyung posted on social media were low but not zero so just to be safe you hadn’t posted anything accept for on your private stories.

“We can take some and put them up in your room maybe” you suggested

In the year and a bit that you two had been together Taehyung had made a photo wall of the two of you above his bed. There was photos from your dates, from his gigs and just stupid little selfies you’d taken together. You wished you could do the same in your room.

“You ready?” the piercing woman asked Tae as she came out with Yoongi and JK. Taehyung nodded and you both inspected the boys’ piercings before going into the room.

Taehyung laid on the chair like he’s done several times before and you sat in the chair opposite. You watched as the needle went through his nose cringing as you remembered exactly what that felt like. Despite his eyes watering slightly due to the pressure on his nose he was fine. After thanking the woman he came over to you standing close to you so you could see the piercing.

“It looks so good” you smiled

You both left the room before joining the other boys. They all had a proper look at each other’s piercings smiling as they did so.

“We’re gonna look so cool at the show” JK said everyone instantly agreeing.

JK dropped you and Taehyung back at Taehyung’s house and you were still thinking of a way to stay the night without your dad finding out where you were.

“Dad I’m home” Taehyung called as you both walked through the door

Taehyung’s dad came to meet you at the door quickly noticing the piercing

“Oh nice piercing, loving the outfit Y/n” he smiled

You’d always adored Taehyung’s dad, he was always so complimentary and supportive of you that it made up for what you lacked from your own father.

You and Taehyung went upstairs and you laid on his bed as he hung his jacket up on his door. He came and laid next to you before pulling out his phone to take photos of the two of you. You did multiple poses making sure you could see his new piercing. He also did a little video because he loved being able to take screenshots from them to have genuine photos of the two of you smiling together. Once he’d edited the brightness and vibrancy of the images he sent them to his Polaroid printer that he had. Once they’d printed he grabbed the ball of blue tack from his bedside table and added them to the photo wall.

“I’m so jealous of this wall” you told him as he laid back down with you

“Why don’t you just tell your dad we’re still together? I treat you well I’m polite I don’t see his problem” He said as he fiddled with your fingers that were rested on his chest

“I know it’s just that he thinks you’re a bad influence and think you’re the reason I dress like in his words ‘a groupie’ and the reason I got my nose pierced” you explained causing him to scoff

“You dressed like that before we even met properly and you’ve always wanted a nose piercing, it’s not like I’ve impacted your life badly your grades are still perfect and the only time I’ve got you in trouble was when I snuck us into that pool that one time” he said

You could feel his frustration through the way he was speaking and how he sighed after each sentence.

“Babe you don’t have to tell me I know , I just don’t want the argument with him and I don’t want him being an asshole to you” you told him you know your dad would eventually get over it but it would just cause a lot of problems in the house and there didn’t need to be anymore.

“Last time I checked we’re planning our lives together you’re gonna have to tell him at some point you’re almost eighteen he can’t control who you’re with” Tae said sitting up which made you fall to the mattress as you’d been laying half on his chest.

“Why are you blaming me?” you asked as he pulled his bandana off and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I’m not” he muttered

“Well it sure sounds like it” you told him

“I just don’t understand when you’re planning to tell him , he can’t really do anything about it and if he kicks you out or something you can just live here” he exclaimed

You sat up and looked at him. He was deliberately avoiding your gaze and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Well maybe if you didn’t have such an awful reputation then he wouldn’t want me to date Namjoon so bad” you said

You knew it was a low blow and something Tae often got jealous over but you couldn’t believe he was blaming you for your father’s disapproval.

“If it makes your life easier go fucking date him then! You know all the shit your dads heard about me is just rumours” he yelled instantly turning to you as he stopped.

“I’m so sorry babe” he said, he’d always had a rule that he’d never yell at you. There wasn’t a specific personal reason for you it just didn’t sit right with him. “It’s just so frustrating I treat you like a fucking princess and I still can’t get his approval because of things other people have said about me”

You didn’t mind that he’d yelled at you, you found the situation frustrating but it must’ve been even worse for him. Your dad used to somewhat like him but the bigger the band got the more rumours about him spread and eventually your dad didn’t care about the whole year he’d already got to know Taehyung.

“It’s okay I get it I’m sorry about the Namjoon comment you know I’d never want to be with anyone but you” you told him

He sighed and wrapped his arm around you

“It’s not okay I should never raise my voice at you I’m not mad at you I’m just mad at the situation” he said before kissing your head.

“I’ll see if I can talk to him at some point soon” you said

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m pressuring as long as I can be with you I don’t care” he said before pressing his lips to yours.

You gently moved your weight forward so he was laying down and your position was more comfortable. His hand gripped your hair as his tongue moved against yours the metal of his tongue piercing creating an icy contrast to the warmth of your mouths. He hummed slightly into the kiss as your hands travelled under his ‘Children of Bodom’ t-shirt. He sat up slightly, assisting you in pulling the shirt over his head before laying back down and pulling you further up his lap. You could feel the cold metal of his rings on your skin as his hand ran underneath the skirt you were wearing. It was then that your phone rang causing the two of you to groan at the interruption. Sitting up, still on his lap, you leaned over and grabbed your phone seeing it was your mum before answering it.

“Hello?” you said sounding more breathless than you’d hoped

“Hi sweetie there’s not a way I can convince your dad to let you stay out for the night especially as it’s a school night, he’s home late from work tomorrow so Tae’s free to come round here I’ll leave the house to you two” your mum said

“Okay thanks what time do you want me home?” you asked

“Eight pm latest”

“Okay see you then”

You hung up before tossing your phone on the bed next to you

“Take it you can’t stay” Tae mumbled against your neck as he pressed kissed up to your jaw

“No I’ve got to be home for eight but dad’s out all day tomorrow so you can come to mine” you told him as you tangled your fingers in his hair and leaned your head to the side giving him more access to your neck.

“Ooh sneaking about now are we?” he said as he trailed kisses back down to your collar bone “that’s hot”

You laughed at his words softly before you felt him bite lightly at your neck

“You can’t leave marks remember” you reminded him

“Not in visible places” he smirked as he undid the zip at the back of your skirt.

“Babe”

“Babe!”

You stirred at the mellifluous sound of your boyfriend’s voice

“What?” you groaned as you snuggled deeper into the warmth of his bare chest

“It’s almost eight I’ve gotta get you home” he said

“I wanna stay here” you whined still half asleep

“I want you to as well but you can’t” he said as he got out of bed gathering both of your clothes and underwear before dropping them in a messy pile on the bed “You gonna be able to walk?” he smirked as you did up the clasp on your bra.

“Don’t flatter yourself” you replied

“Excuse me” he grinned in false offence causing you to laugh

Once you were both dressed and you’d made yourself look presentable, he drove you home stopping a road before your street so your dad wouldn’t see.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you” you said pressing a kiss to his lips

“I love you too” he told you as you got out of his car.

“I’m home” you said as you entered the dining room to see your parents

“Hi sweetie did you have a good time at Namjoon’s?” your mum asked

“Yeah it was great” you said

“Why does he never come in to say hello?” your dad asked

You look at your mum quickly “Uhm he’s a busy guy these days lots of studying to do” you lied as best you could

“he used to always come in when he dropped you home, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re secretly still dating Taehyung behind my back” he chuckled causing you and your mum to let out nervous laughs

“No never, I’d honestly forgotten about Taehyung until you mentioned him” you lied as if you hadn’t been laying naked in bed with the boy less than twenty minutes ago

“That’s what I like to hear” your dad said

You quickly exited the room and went to the bathroom before turning on the shower as you hadn’t had a chance to have one at Tae’s.

Once you’d finished and were in your pyjamas back in your bedroom you checked your phone.

From: Mik

my bed smells like you come back please i miss you

To: Mik

trust me i wish i could, almost thought my dad was onto us a second ago

You explained what your dad had said and discussed whether or not you thought your dad knew. You two had been so careful that there’s no way he could know and it’s not like your dad was that clued up about your life so you were pretty sure you were in the clear.

“Okay I’m going to be out as long as you want me out for later” Your mum said the next morning as she came into your room “I’ll tell your dad to let you know when he’s on his way home you’ve got to make sure you leave no proof of Taehyung being here though” she continued

It was risky sneaking Tae into your house whilst your dad was at work. You’d never done that since you “broke up” but you thought if you were careful it would be fine.

“Get him to come in the back door so that the neighbours are less likely to see, I’ll unlock it on my way out” Your mother added

“Okay I will” you told her before she left the house

Text From: Mik

house empty?

Text To: Mik

yep, come in the back door x

You had a couple hours until you had to be at college so you were hoping you’d be able to get some more sleep in whilst Tae was there. Within ten minutes you heard the back door open and footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Morning beautiful” Tae smiled as he entered your room instantly pulling his shoes off and climbing under the sheets next to you. His cold body sliced through the warmth you’d previously been surrounded by as he wrapped his arms around you.

“You’re freezing” You whined despite curling into his chest

“Would you rather I wasn’t here?” he said

“Of course not” you replied as his hands began playing with your hair.

You laid in silence for a while, simply enjoying the comfort of a sleepy morning together that you hadn’t been able to have for a while. When you were allowed to be together he’d stayed most nights and if he didn’t it was likely you were at his. You’d spend every morning wrapped in each other’s warmth having nonsensical half asleep conversations.

“I’ve missed this” he muttered into your hair but you had already fallen back to sleep.

You were wrenched out of what was a seemingly pleasant dream by the screeching of your alarm. Tae’s arms tightened around you as you rolled over in his embrace to turn the alarm off. You managed to sit up out of Tae’s arms slightly deciding that as he was already dressed he didn’t need to be woken up yet.

As you sat next to him you took the time to fully take in his appearance. The slow rise and fall of his chest signified his relaxed state as did the way his thick lashes that were smothered with eyeliner sat upon the flawless skin of his cheeks. His red hair that was once flat against his forehead was now sticking up in the air exposing the slit he’d shaved into his eyebrow a couple weeks ago. You were flooded with a sudden rush of adoration for the boy lying next to you, you never got to properly relax and appreciate him for what he was as you were always worried about getting home and making up excuses these days. He groaned slightly as he rolled over, his arms wrapping around the duvet you were previously laying under. You’d always found it endearing that the Kim Taehyung most people were intimidated by had to cuddle something in order to sleep, whether it be a pillow, a teddy or ,his preferred option, you.

“Stop staring at me you weirdo” he grumbled as his puffy eyes opened and met yours

“Is it wrong for me to appreciate how beautiful my boyfriend is?” you asked

“When you’re denying him morning cuddles it is” he said through a yawn as he made grabby hands at you

“I’ve gotta shower and get ready” you told him before ruffling his hair and getting out of bed

“Can I join?” he asked smirking at you

“No you cannot you can get me an outfit ready though” you laughed before heading to the bathroom.

Once you’d showered and put clean underwear on you walked back into your room and saw Tae sat at your vanity table his hair now a lot neater than when you’d left him.

“I chose the AC/DC t shirt and your red skirt” he said as he quickly stood up to grab the clothes “I was thinking you could where the long sleeved fishnet thing you wear sometimes with your red boots maybe to match the skirt” he said as he looked up at you with his pouty lips and wide eyes showing you he wasn’t sure if he’d chosen well.

“Yeah that sounds great” You smiled walking to your draw to pick out your fishnet top.

“You look so hot in that” he muttered as you pulled the fishnet shirt over your head “Shame JK’s getting us in ten minutes”

You rolled your eyes at him and the way he was like most boys constantly thinking about one thing.

“Don’t forget we’ve got all afternoon once we’re back” You reminded him

“How could I forget? My favourite person all to myself with no interruptions, it’s a dream come true” He grinned as he pulled you into him by your waist and pressed his lips to yours

“I’m starting to remember-“you said into the kiss “why we were late all the time when you’d stay here” you smiled as your arms wrapped around his neck

“That’s young love for you” he grinned as his hands began trailing down south

“Go downstairs so I can get ready with no distractions please” you said as you took his hands off of you

He feigned offence as he looked at you

“The one time your boyfriends here with you in the morning and you’re telling him to leave? The audacity” he said

You giggled at his expression

“You know I take ages to get ready even without distractions and you said it yourself JK is gonna be here soon so please”

“What if I don’t want to?” he challenged as he stepped closer so he was towering above you face inches away from your own

“What if I make it up to you later?” You shot back raising your eyebrow at him looking him up and down for extra effect

“Done!” he said before leaving the room

After being only slightly late to college you were in your usual spot next to Namjoon.

“Are you sure sneaking Tae into your house is the best idea?” he asked as he mixed his water colours

“My dad’s at work all day and my mum has left us the house so what can go wrong?” you asked

As much as you loved him, Namjoon didn’t have a rebellious bone in his body and would often make you think through your antics properly before you did them. You weren’t particularly rebellious apart from dating a boy your Father hates and consistently lying to him so that you can go and see said boy.

“What if your dad comes home early or what if one of the neighbours sees and tells him?” Namjoon said

“He’s going to text me when he’s on his way home and Tae’s going to go in the back door so the neighbours probably won’t see” you assured him

“Okay let me know if you need me to cover for you at all for any reason” he said

No matter how much he disagreed with your actions he’d always be there to help you if you needed it and for that you were eternally grateful.

Once you finished college you got JK to drop you home, you went in the front whilst he drove round the back to drop Tae off. You dropped your bag and walked through the house to open the door for Tae.

The second the door was open his hands were on you as were his lips. You stumbled backwards into your living room as Tae walked forwards, his lips still feverishly attached to yours.

“What’s the rush? We’ve got all afternoon” you asked as he started trailing his lips down your neck

“We never get to be this alone, I’m making the most of it” he mumbled as his lips reconnected with yours your dark lipstick now smeared all around his mouth. He continued walking the two of you backwards before grabbing the back of your thighs and pulling you up to wrap your legs around his waist. Taehyung carried you through the house for a second before pushing you up against the wall simultaneously pushing himself into you causing the both of you to groan slightly.

“As much as I love this just go to my room already” you said moving your lips only millimetres away from his to speak.

“What’s the rush? We’ve got all afternoon” he smirked mocking you

“Shut up” you rolled your eyes

“Gladly” he said as he reconnected your lips and began blindly walking to your bedroom.

Once you were there he dropped you onto your bed before taking his shirt and jeans off and climbing on top of you. You’d already taken your shirt off so he instantly placed his hands under your skirt and began pulling your underwear down with one hand whilst the other held your face. Seconds after you’d put your lips back on his you heard the front door open. Tae pulled back and you stared at each other with a similar look of horror.

“Y/n?” Your dad called

“I thought he was working late?” Tae whisper shouted

“He was supposed to be!” you replied as you quickly got up throwing your shirt back on and checking yourself in the mirror. You quickly grabbed a makeup wipe to get rid of the lipstick on your chin and neck.

“Y/n are you home?” your dad’s voice sounded again

“Yeah I thought you were uh working late?” You said as you made your way downstairs

Your dad was in the living room placing down his brief case and loosening his tie when you walked in

“I was meant to be but my meeting got cancelled, I was going to text you but my phones dead” he explained

Your mind was running a million miles an hour trying to work out a way to get Tae out of your house without your dad seeing.

“When you didn’t answer and I saw the back door was open I thought someone had broken in” your dad laughed causing you to laugh in return

“Sorry I had my headphones in” You lied avoiding eye contact with him. As you did so you noticed a pair of shoes by the still open back door. Tae’s shoes. How did you not even realise he’d taken them off? Anyone that had ever met Tae could recognise those shoes as his anywhere as they were covered in little doodles he’d designed. Your father was yet to see them but there was no way you could discretely hide a pair of size 10 Doc Martens.

“Would you mind getting me a beer?” your dad asked you as he sat down on the sofa

“Yeah of course” you said but you didn’t want to leave the room because you knew your dad would see Tae’s shoes if he wasn’t distracted by conversation. As you grabbed a beer from the fridge and were making your way back to the living room you heard your dad yell your name.

“Where is he?” your dad said as he met you in the kitchen

“Who?” you said knowing there was no point lying but not knowing what else to say

“Don’t play dumb with me Taehyung’s here his shoes are by the back door, god I thought he’d be smarter than to leave evidence of him being here right in the living room” he scoffed

“In his defence you weren’t meant to be home for hours” you said knowing it would just make the situation worse

“He’s upstairs isn’t he?” your dad asked despite knowing the answer and already heading upstairs

“Dad wait!” you called rushing after him, oh how you hoped Tae had put his clothes back on and wiped his face before your dad found him.

You trailed behind as your dad opened your bedroom door and saw Tae sat on your bed. You let out a sigh of relief as he was now fully clothed. “What are you doing in my house?!” Your father said causing Tae to jump to his feet “Dad it was my idea don’t be mad at him” you tried as you stood between them both but your dad dismissed you completely “She’s lying sir it was my idea I’m so sorry” Tae said You snapped your head towards him a his words “What are you doing!” you exclaimed at him “Dad I promise you it was my idea he’s just trying to protect me” you said turning back in your dad’s direction. “I don’t care whose idea it was I want him out now!” Your father shouted pointing at your door. Tae looked at you with an apologetic look on his face before walking towards your door. “Tae stop” you said causing him to look back at you “Dad what’s your problem?” “What do you mean? Isn’t obvious? Look at him!” Your dad exclaimed gesturing towards Tae “He looked like that when you knew we were together so what’s happened to make you hate him so much?” You asked as Tae made his way too your side Your dad sighed and sat down on the chair of your vanity table “For starter’s he didn’t have red hair and a nose piercing when I knew, I just don’t want my daughter involved in the antics him and those boys get up to” he explained His words made absolutely no sense to you and you were about to voice that when Tae spoke up “Sir if you don’t mind me saying the things the papers write about us and our music videos we always get permission for everything we do, we’d never do anything against the law and if we did I wouldn’t involve Y/n” Taehyung explained “I understand you’re protective of her as any father would be but I can confidently say I treat her perfectly and have given you no reason to think I don’t” he finished Your dad looked up at him and shook his head “I never said you don’t treat her well I know you do, but I also know what it’s like being in a rock band it starts out harmless and legal but the bigger you get the worse it gets and before you know it you’re all drug addicts and alcoholics and I just don’t want her getting caught up in that like I did” he said You never knew your dad had been in a band. You’d never think he’d ever have the guts to do something like that, he’s always been so sophisticated and quite frankly up himself as far as you were concerned. “How have I never heard about you being in a band?” You asked “Because it’s not a time I’m proud of and I wanted you to think better of me” he admitted causing you to laugh “I’d have thought better of you if you’d told me” “Well now you know , Taehyung I never asked for you two to split up as a personal thing I’m just afraid you’ll get into things like I did” You father said looking at Taehyung without disgust for the first time in a while. “You know how headstrong and stubborn she is she’d never do something out of peer pressure and would probably be the one stopping us from doing anything like that” Tae laughed smiling at you “I know you’d rather her be with someone like Namjoon I’m aware I’m not good enough for her but by some miracle she thinks I am so would there be any hope at all of you letting us be together?” Tae asked “Honestly I always knew she’d end up with someone a bit different and alternative and if you continue to treat her well and promise you won’t get her involved in anything bad then I suppose you can stay together” Your dad smiled “Seriously?” you asked making him nod

“Thank you! I promise I swear on my life and hers I will never involve her in anything bad” Taehyung grinned at him

“Thank you dad” you smiled as Tae pulled you into his arms

“This door stays open though!” Your dad said as he left the room.

“I can’t believe that was so easy I should’ve snuck you in weeks ago!” You said

“I told you if we just spoke to him it would turn out okay” Tae said

“so where were we?” he added as he kissed you running his hands under the hem of your shirt.

“We weren’t anywhere, not with my dad right downstairs” you laughed as he continued to trail his hands under your shirt

“That’s definitely not stopped you before”

33 notes · View notes

plethora-of-imagines · 5 years ago

Text

Wait your turn

AN: @queerconfusionthings you wanted me to write it so I did. I have like 20 drafts that are just based on older anons from your blog. Please stop giving me new ideas (not really), or I’ll never get to write something not inspired by your blog!

Word Count: 1895

Warnings: smut/lemon (vague)

Description: The Doctor would like the Master to stop abducting you.

"Now remember it's really important that you don't-," the Doctor turned to look at you and found empty space.

It was possible that you had just moved since she had last looked at you! She had been talking for a while. Looking around the TARDIS console room confirmed what she already knew. You were gone.

“Again! Really?”

The Master had taken you, again. It was getting ridiculous. Every time it was her turn to have you he stole you away before her time was up. Rude. At this rate, she would never get any time with you. Maybe that was the point now that she thought of it. He wasn't very fond of sharing, to begin with, so the fact she got any time with you without a major fight was a surprise. Still. It was her turn! She was going to have to grab you back from him just so she could spend her turn with you. Again!

It didn’t take long for the Doctor to find the Master’s TARDIS. She had gotten a lot of practice recently. The Master’s abductions had been getting more and more frequent recently. The Master’s TARDIS was so used to her coming to pick you up that the doors didn’t hesitate to open for her.

Her eyes settled on you first, curled up in one of the seats in the Master’s console room. He never had fully changed the console room from its shack setup so there was still clutter around. The seats were nice, maybe she should get some so you'd be comfortable when you got tired. They would also provide an opportunity to carry you when you were sleepy too. She was getting distracted, this regeneration seemed to be more prone to it than the previous ones... Once she was sure that you were okay she glared at the Master.

“I don’t understand why we even bothered to come to an agreement to share Y/N if you’re going to keep stealing her from me.”

“Can’t help it. I miss her too much to leave her alone.”

He had moved to stand behind your chair, resting his head on top of yours. His hands grabbing onto you in as close to a hug as he could manage with the chair in the way.

“Besides she is so cute when disoriented from the teleportation.”

You rolled your eyes. Good, you were just as exasperated by his actions as she was. Well probably not to the same extent. You might be more fond in your exasperation.

“If you could stop stealing her and wait your turn that would be great.”

She didn’t hesitate to grab your hand and lead you to her TARDIS. You followed without fuss. The Doctor felt herself relax- she hadn't even realized how tense she was. A part of her had feared that you didn't want to be with her, that you preferred the Master. But you came with her. That was good.

The moment that you left, the Master’s TARDIS dematerialized. Clearly, he didn't feel the need to try and grab you back immediately. Getting to keep you was just a matter of figuring out where the Master was hiding the teleportation device he was using on you. Shouldn't be too hard.

*******************************************************************************************

You had not expected the Master to teleport you to his TARDIS in the middle of you watching the Doctor cutely ramble on about the planet you were going to visit. Perhaps you should have with how his texts had complained about missing you dearly. Either way, even knowing what was happening didn’t stop you from being disoriented and stumbling into his arms. You were never truly prepared for the sensations that came with teleportation.

Gathering you up in his arms the Master deeply kissed you. All of your thoughts left as he kissed you like you were the only person in the universe. Next thing you were aware of you had been placed in a chair to regain your sense of balance.

The Master was at the console. Rushing around to control the TARDIS, probably trying to outrun the Doctor.

“Afraid that the Doctor is already on our trail. Shame I was hoping to steal a bit more time with you than this,” he seemed to give up on outrunning the Doctor- letting the TARDIS land.

The Doctor walked through the doors less than a minute later. She was getting quick at this. Not a surprise considering how often she had to take you back from the Master.

“I don’t understand why we even bothered to come to an agreement to share Y/N if you’re going to keep stealing her from me.”

She clearly wasn't happy that he was ignoring their deal. Honestly you never understood why he had been the one to propose sharing you. He always missed you enough to extend the effort to abduct you.

“Can’t help it. I miss her too much to leave her alone.”

Even better. He missed you enough to admit it. Honestly you couldn't think of a reason for him to bother trying to share. It making you happy to be with both of them was probably not enough of a reason for the Master to have been the one to suggest this arrangement. Felt more like something you should have brought up.

Standing behind you he draped himself over you.

“Besides she is so cute when disoriented from the teleportation.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. Was his goal to make the Doctor angrier? Based on her disapproving expression he was succeeding.

“If you could stop stealing her and wait your turn that would be great.”

The Doctor grabbed your hand, pulling you up from the chair. You let her lead you away, giving a small wave goodbye to the Master with your free hand. Following her back to her TARDIS.

The moment the doors closed behind the two of you she spoke.

"Okay clothes off."

"What?"

"Common. Everything off- including earrings."

You didn’t move. Why did the Doctor want you to take your clothes off?

"Ugh. Fine. I'll do it myself."

She started to pull you clothes off as you stood there stunned. Her hands traveled all over you feeling you up but never staying in one place for long. The focus remained on your clothes. As if they had personally offended the Doctor.

"Why the strip search Doctor?"

"The Master had been putting some sort of teleportation device on you. That’s how he's been stealing you away all the time."

"I- I hadn't noticed..."

How had you not noticed? It should have been obvious! Right?

"Course not. He's very good at distracting you from wondering how you got there. Snogging you the moment you get there while you're still disoriented. Preventing you from thinking straight."

All of your clothes were off and in a pile on the floor around you. The Doctor rummaged through them looking for this device that she claimed the Master put on you.

"Nothing! There can't be nothing. How the hell would he be doing this then?"

She took the sonic and scanned your naked body. Self-conscious you wrapped your arms around yourself. It felt strange to be bare before the Doctor as she scanned you. Everything was already revealed to her so it felt as if she was searching for more intimate information.

"Sonic says there is definitely something on you that fits the specs of what I'm thinking he’s using...So where is it hidden?"

She ran a hand through her hair, her face lighting up in a way that meant she had an idea. She ruffled your hair with both of her hands. You could feel it sticking up due to static. She gave a small giggle at how she had made you look as you pouted.

"Nothing, unfortunately. That was fun to do to your hair though!"

"Doctor," you whined.

"Might have been too hopeful to think it would be on your clothes or easily visible. Alright go lean against something to keep your balance."

Something to keep your balance? You decided not to question it and went to stand near the hexagon stairs. You didn’t want to risk holding onto the console and hitting something that you shouldn’t.

"Ooh, that’s a better idea! Sit down."

You sat down on one of the middle steps and waited to see where this was going. You were starting to get cold, your flushed face could only keep you warm for so long.

"Going to need to check every inch of skin to try and find the device."

Oh. That’s where this was going. You were going to be very warm soon.

*******************************************************************************************

"No. He wouldn't. Would he?"

She looked at you on the stairs. You looked flustered by her actions. Well fair enough she had just felt up every inch of your skin. Quite thoroughly, might she boast. There was one place that she hadn't checked that he could have used. Convenient really. Take it out during foreplay and then put it back during aftercare. You always got really sleepy during aftercare. You would never even know it was there! Even if he eventually had to tell you about the device you would never think to look there.

"He would. Sorry about this."

She pulled your legs apart and knelt between them. Sticking a finger into you and starting to roam around looking for the device. The noises you made almost made her forget what she was looking for. Oh. That must be another part of why he put it in you. Hoping she would get distracted looking for it! And it would always be on you no matter what- even if you had no clothes on. Genius. Gold star for him.

Ah! There it was right near the entrance. She took it out quickly, using her sonic to disable it.

Now that she thought about it. It wasn’t a bad idea to have a teleportation device on you. It could be helpful if you were in danger. She would have to remember to return the device to him when it was his turn to travel with you.

You looked at the device on the ground then back up at her. The neediness in your gaze convinced her within seconds. She pushed her finger back into you. It might take her giving you a few orgasms to be sure that there wasn't a second device. That was a good excuse for not stopping after the first orgasm if you asked. Not that you were likely to ask. Always good to be prepared though! It seems that you had at least somewhat enjoyed this if your flustered skin and cute little moans had meant anything.

She should make this as enjoyable a process for you as possible. The Master was sure to continue trying to steal you away so she would have to make a habit of these strip searches! Now that she wasn’t so single mindedly focused on looking for the device she could focus on making you feel good. She would be sure to make this something you looked forward to in the future. Surely in the future, she would be capable of multitasking efficiently! Exploring your skin while finding the device. Oh, she was going to enjoy this new ritual. Based on your expression as she made you cum you would too.

#13th doctor x reader #13 x reader #Dhawan!master x reader #13th doctor x reader x dhawan!master

111 notes · View notes

seokiloquy · 4 years ago

Text

Patient Growth - Yaku Morinosuke

Soulmate AU: Red String (the string on your finger points in the direction of your soulmate for about 4 inches of length before disappearing, only to make a full string connection when in each others range of sight)

Requested

Tags/Warnings: GN! Reader, time-skip spoilers, short and sweet.

Word Count: 3k+

“(Y/N), why are you doing math? We had it last semester.”

Pulling the protractor away from your pinky, you looked up to Micky’s face, watching as her eyebrow pushed upwards to her sleek hairline. You clicked your tongue, mouth open for a moment as you slid your notebook in her direction.

“Pythagorean theorem. Seriously, what are you doing?”

You raised both hands off your desk in surrender as you tilted your head away from the girl’s questioning stare. “Okay okay, hear me out.”

“That doesn’t exactly give me good faith.”

“So, the red string soulmate pair has mostly died off as of the late century or so right?”

Micky sighed, swinging her leg over the backrest of the chair in front of you, sitting backwards and she crossed her arms over your desk and leaned forward. “And?”

“And, because a lot of people have no need to know about tricks for the red string we were never taught. A lot of people have tattoos nowadays so I get it, don’t teach about every soulmate history, that’s fine.”

“Get on with it.”

“Okay, okay.” You spun your notebook around for Micky to see it straight on. “After some research, I discovered that people used to use the Pythagorean theorem to find the exact location of their soulmate using the angles of the string attached to their hand.”

“Okay cool, so why are you doing this instead of our English essay?”

Clenching your teeth, you looked away from Micky’s brown eyes to the tiled floor of your classroom. “Well, to be fair I have finished the essay.”

“We were assigned it yesterday.”

“I said it was finished, not good. But besides that. I’ve done five separate calculations, but the angles I’m getting don’t change at all, I’m getting a straight line. No triangle, no location.”

Furrowing her brow, Micky leaned back against the desk behind her, large fluffy hair tickling the back of another classmate’s neck, making them giggle. “Oops, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Mickey leaned back toward you, fingertips pulling at her ends. She sighed, “Have you considered that they might be so far away that 100 metres doesn’t give you enough clear information.”

Reaching for the thread that tied to your pinky, you spun it between your fingers, leaning back as you watched the string fade into invisibility mid-air. “I considered it, but that must mean they’re really far, and I didn’t want to admit that to myself.

“Well, hey. You’ll meet your soulmate eventually, everyone does. So for now, how about you focus on yourself and maybe clean up your essay.”

“Ya, ya you’re right.”

Micky sits for a moment, staring into empty space as your pen slowly lowers back down to the unfinished calculations on the paper. Sighing, she lifted her hand and placed it over yours, stopping the scribbling. “(Y/N), stop. You’re not ready to meet your soulmate if you’re searching for them.”

With a furrowed brow, you clicked the pen close and set in on the table. When you looked up to meet Micky’s eyes the yellow lights in the ceiling dimmed around your vision. “What do you mean by that.”

“Seriously (Y/N). if you spend all your time searching for your soulmate, what are you going to do when you finally meet them? Tell them about the length you went to, to hunt them down? Search for someone else?”

“Of course not—”

Your head shot forward slightly at the smack she landed on the back of it. “Then what?” you didn’t even seem to move. “What do you want to do in the future?”

Picking the pen back up you flipped it between your fingers, spinning it recklessly before it slipped between your digits as they slowly clammed up under the weight of her stare.

“Do you have any clue?” She looked at your notebook before grabbing it from beneath your arms and flipping over a few pages. Slamming it back onto the desk, the sight that met you was one of a completely cluttered page, filled to the brim with words and doodles. “What about this? Art. Writing. You love comics and stories. Why not—”

“It would never last. Starving artists, you know?”

“Get out of that damn mindset. That’s all a hoax, sure it happens, but art and story’s make culture colourful and interesting.”

You sighed, flipping the notebook closed as the beginning of the lunch bell rang. “You say that as if I’d have a giant impact on society.”

“Who says you wouldn’t?”

Russia’s snow was no joke. It made the shorter male shiver to the bone till he managed to get into the building’s lobby. Though, it did persist until he got a hand on the apartment’s doorknob.

Yaku peaked over his model friend’s shoulder, slowly shrugging off his long thick coat before walking back to the coat hangers at the entrance. “You read?” he asked, moving the red string on his finger as it wrapped around one of the hooks.

Lev’s home, shared with his older sister, was a lived-in picture of modern architecture. The flat white walls and smooth stone countertops matched the square windows and minimalist paintings. The rent hardly put a dent in their wallets. Rich people.

Despite the money available, no books shelves in the home were used for actual books, just plants and picture frames. This made the sight of Lev holding a bound stack of paper all the more outlandish. He kicked off his shoes, slinging on the available slippers.

“Huh oh, not often. But Alisa heard that this book blew up and was getting translated into a bunch of different languages, Russian and Japanese included. So we got both and we’re sort of jumping in between the versions for practice, you know? Oh, Alisa’s buying groceries, she’ll be back in time to watch the game though. How was practice?”

Yaku paced over to his friend's sleek kitchen and grabbed a glass, filling it with water. “Pretty good. I'm still getting used to the language, but I’ve gotten a better hang of it. What’s the book about?” The shorter man, two glasses in hand, walked over to his friend and offered one.

Lev gave Yaku a large smile and graciously took it, sipping for a moment before setting it on the coffee table. “It’s a mid-century fantasy, filled with magic, monsters, flying trains. No soulmates though, so you don’t know if the main character’s relationship is platonic or romantic. Not that it’s the main focus of the plot. And the Protagonist is this 18-year-old with no magic but somehow has to stop a magic war from happening between two rival empires. It’s really cool.”

Yaku sat in the opposite corner of the couch, chugging his glass back as he watched an animated movie play quietly on the screen in front of them. “Where’s the author from?” he asked, twirling the pinky tied red string around one of his fingers aimlessly.

“Europe? North-America? Don’t recall. But I did hear that they got scouted to work on an upcoming manga with a small group of authors. Apparently, they are great illustrators. Oh did they design the cover of their book? Ugh, let me check.” Lev reached for his phone on the counter as the door opened behind them.

Alisa, long silver hair tied up into a neat bun, dropped the grocery bags and shook the snow off her head while kicking her coat off. “Lev,” she huffed. “I texted you to help me with the bags. Ah, Mori, you’re here. Good to see you.”

Yaku gave the older model a smile as Lev dropped his phone and rushed to pick up the brim filled bags of food. “Sorry, sorry. I was telling Mori about the books we bought.”

“Don’t worry I managed. Mori, I heard you made it onto the national team, does that mean we’re gonna have to fly into Japan to support you next year?”

Yaku laughed and waved his hand dismissively, “I won’t force you two. But I think the rest of Nekoma would like to see you again.”

Lev let out a loud snort from the kitchen, “We’re going! No doubt about it!” The tall man took a moment to poke his head out, “Oh, Yak— Alisa! You didn’t tell me!”

The childlike anger in his tone made Alisa laugh, turning around to look at her brother head-on. “Tell you what?”

“Your soulmate! Your tattoo is gold now!”

Yaku, from his position, could quickly confirm. The mandala-like flower on the back of Alisa’s neck had gone from a black to a golden shimmer.

Alisa scrambled, quickly pulling her phone close to her chest. With a swipe of her thumb, she brought the phone behind her and pushed and stray hairs up towards her silver bun. The camera clicked.

Yaku raised a thin blond brow. “Do you,” he paused, trying not to chuckle at his friend’s frantic scuffling. “Do you not know who it is?”

“Well, I can’t recall. Nothing was out of the ordinary today.” She tapped her booted toe against the mat before gasping suddenly. Removing the nail she was biting from her mouth, she grunted and pulled her coat back on.

She began to ramble. “That damn cashier! I finally met him and she’s my soulmate? Stupid, stupid!” She stepped through the front door, turning around to give them a smile. “You boys enjoy the game, okay?”

The door closed with a dull thud and click. Lev, hands hanging like dead fish at sides, stood speechless. For a minute he stared at the closed door, not noticing Yaku’s eyes on him, before asking a sudden question.

“Do you want to meet your soulmate?”

“Hmm? Why do you ask?”

Lev stepped back into the kitchen, grabbing a bag of vegetables, silently beckoning Yaku to follow. Heeding, Yaku followed.

“Well, I don’t mean to sound negative or anything. I really want to meet my soulmate.” He trailed off.

Yaku sighed and grabbed his own item to help put it away in the fancy silver fridge. “Everyone has growing to do, and everyone grows at different paces.” He paused, stifling a sneer at Lev looking down at him with a bewildered gaze. He threw a pack of ships into his stomach. “If you never meet them, it was never meant to happen right? But soulmates are funny like that and always find their way to each other. You just got to be patient.”

Lev tossed the back onto a shelf, making the ships crunch daily when they landed. “Do you think you’ll meet your soulmate? Soon?”

“I’ve done a lot of growing, and I like how things are going. So ya, maybe.” Yaku looked back into the living room and to the book that sat in near perfect condition. “If it’s any constellation Lev, I think you’ve done a lot of growing too.”

He looked at the taller friend, immediately regretting his words slightly. Lev wore a cat-like grin.

“(L/N), we’re buying tickets to the Olympic games, do you want one?” Udai asked with an excited grin.

“Uh, hold on.” You pulled the glasses from off the top of your head and onto the bridge of your nose. Standing from your brightly lit desk, you walked over to stand behind one of your teammate’s shoulders to squint at their screen. “Volleyball? Oh, right you played didn’t you?”

The long-haired man laughed, making his chair creak as he leaned back. “So did Akaashi. We know some of the players on the team too.”

You sat up straight, brows shooting as close to your hairline as possible. “You know professional volleyball players?”

Udai let out an airy laugh. “Well Akaashi knows them better than I do, but ya.”

Akaashi, the silent editor that sat across the table, looked up at your bewildered face. “You’re a fan of volleyball?”

“Well, it’s not like I know the name of every player, coach, and team, but I enjoy watching sport in general. Udai, put me on the list.”

Walking back to your desk, you silently listened to your co-authors rattle on about the 3rd act of the story as you made clean lines and whether or not the main character should save the secondary one or not. Sighing, you looked at the black pen you held, before setting it down and gently tugging on your little red string. Akaashi rolled his chair over.

“I’m surprised you haven’t met your soulmate yet.”

“Are you? I’m only two years older than you Akaashi.”

“I suppose you’re right, most people just tend to meet their soulmates at the end of high school or into post-secondary. Typically if they’re in close proximity.”

“Well, I did try to figure out where my soulmate was. My friend convinced me to stop and focus on myself,” you sighed, staring at the papers in front of you. “I’m thankful for that, honestly. If I’m not ready to meet my soulmate, at least I have myself right? I’m happy.”

Akaashi’s head tilted, hair shifting under the fluorescent light as he stared at the small gold tattoo on his wrist with a smile. “Ya, you’re right.”

The stadium, inside and out, was loud. Stacks of hundreds of people slowly making their way around the building and milling about, their conversations made it difficult to communicate.

“So you don’t know how your soul mark works exactly?” Udai yelled into your ear.

“Not entirely. Everyone is different, you know? And not many people have the red string nowadays!”

“Ah, right! Makes sense.”

“Everyone, this way!” one of your co-authors called, as akaashi and another author came back, beers in hand.

Following your group, you made your way to the balcony seats to finally sit down instead of standing among tight groups of strangers. You cast a panoramic look over the circular-shaped stadium at the filled seats that hit the vibrant vinyl colours of the chairs.

“Eh! Akaashi! Is that you?”

Two rows ahead, standing tall, and eagerly running your way was a lanky silver-headed man with a big grin. Next to you, Akaashi stood up, and to be polite you stepped out of his way standing in the stairway to look up slightly at the stranger.

“Ah Lev, been a while.”

Unable to get back to your seat, you stood between the two men patiently.

“You’re here to see everyone right? Oh, who’s this?” Lev asked, turning his head in your direction.

“(L/N), (Y/N). I’m one of Akaashi’s co-workers.”

The man’s thin silver brows pinched together, tilting his head as he inspected your face before suddenly shooting up onto his toes. “You wrote the Rusted Wing series! I love those books!”

“Ah, ya I did.”

“That’s amazing, I-”

A man’s voice called over the speakers, echoing through the stadium. Lev, in an excited rush, insisted on speaking to you later, before running back to his seat where another silver-haired person sat.

Sitting back down, you breathed slowly as the loud conversations around you died and the players made their way onto the court with an uproar of cheers. You smiled, chanting along until Akaashi nudged your arm.

Yaku, completely in his head about the quickly approaching game, kept his eyes on the red jersey in front of him as he walked forward. The music played loudly in his ears and mixed with the messy sound of cheers his head felt like it was floating in a cloud of complete focus on oblivion.

He stood in line, chest rising as he waited for the anthem to begin, but before they did an elbow hit his shoulder.

Opening his eyes, he immediately caught sight of the once invisible red string making a complete line, arching its way up into the crowd where he saw your face above the strangers in the crowd.

Yaku was in a daze. Completely blown out of the water, all the thoughts in his mind seemed to escape him.

The game seemed to have started without his knowledge, and finished just as quickly. Muscle memory had done its job well. Yaku only noticed what had happened when his head was forced up to see the winning scores on a large screen.

“Fantastic work Yaku, and you didn’t even break a sweat! You were a monster out there! Absolute beast.” The head coach’s expression was one of amazement.

Yaku blinked dumbly. “If I’m being honest, I hardly remember a thing I did out there.”

“Well, you did fantastically. Conscious or not.”

When Yaku looked back to your seat, location freshly printed in his mind, you were gone.

He followed the team back into the change rooms. Which happened to be when the rest began to point out the quickly moving direction of his thread. One compared its movements to a broken compass.

Once able to get out of the musty changeroom, Yaku sprinted. The stadium halls were still packed with people. None paid attention to the short man sprinting though. The string had gone still and Yaku eagerly followed it like a trail of breadcrumbs. He knew his fate would be better than the two german siblings because at the end of the trail would be his soulmate and not some cannibalistic witch. He hoped.

The string suddenly shot forward, growing in length. He came to a halt, panting from his sprint; more than he did during the game.

Only a couple metres ahead, head meeting a higher point against Lev’s arm than his own, was his soulmate chatting happily in a circle while maintaining eye contact with his tall friend. The sight made his ears rumble and cheeks burn with embarrassment.

The content smile on your lips when you finally turned his way made all his patience worth it.

I’m getting better at using ‘They’ as a gender-neutral pronoun in writing without making it feel clunky, which I’m happy about.

I hope everyone has been having a nice holiday. - Bacon

Posted: 17/01/2021

#Yaku Morisuke #yaku x reader #yaku morinosuke x reader #Haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #anime x reader #anime #manga x reader #manga

14 notes · View notes

maddiethebull · 5 years ago

Note

hi! are your requests still open? if yes, could you please, pleaseeee write prompt #17 for lucien? i've read the gavin one and it was so precious!!! i hope you will have a wonderful day ahead of you!! ✨💋

My requests are still open! Just eternally because I barely have a life! Thank you for complimenting my Gavin fanfic!! You’re so sweet! Thank you for making a request

Lucien (MLQC) - Prompt #17 - “You know what? Shut up. Kiss me.”

It had been a hard day at the office. Victor had been on your ass about all of the work that you needed to get done, it was majorly frustrating today, especially, because you were supposed to attend the lecture Lucien was giving that evening, but all you could think of was work work work.

On the way from LFG to Loveland University, you were so distracted, thinking about how you could possibly get that report done in two days or less, that you nearly walked into traffic. ‘Just calm down, MC, no time to think about work right now. You get to see Lucien today.’ With that thought, you smiled, Lucien had always made you feel so comfortable and he never stressed you out like Victor and Gavin, and he was much more calm than Kiro. ‘Lucien is like the perfect porridge, no that’s weird’ you thought, ‘Lucien is like a good middle ground? Ugh whatever, Lucien’s nice to be around and I like him. That’s all that matters.��

You entered the large building, it was so full of students. It even brought back old memories of when you attended the same University you were in now.

If only Lucien was a professor then! Talk about eye candy, am I right? Walking up and down the halls and stopping to look at a couple maps, you searched for the room Lucien was to be presenting in.

When you finally found it and entered, you sat down in the crowded room with the students around you wondering who this new face was. There had been rumors that Lucien was seen going on dates with a certain person, a person who was described to look a lot like you. You were in the dark about the rumors, you didn’t hang around the Uni a lot and you didn’t talk to any of the students, really, so when you heard,

“Is that who the Professor’s dating?” from behind you, you shrunk into your seat.

‘He’s dating someone?’ you thought. It made you feel even worse thinking about Lucien going on dates with someone, the guy you liked, liking someone else. But, you were his friend, so you couldn’t very well leave the lecture you promised to attend. The lights dimmed and he began, showing some fancy charts that you couldn’t understand that well and in about five minutes you were lost. Your thoughts once again ran around in your brain, and now adding on was the fact that Lucien was dating someone. You began nodding off in search for solace, you just needed some peace and quiet for a couple minutes. You were carried away while Lucien’s soft, deep voice echoed through the room.

About an hour later,

“MC?” Lucien was standing over you, everybody had already left the lecture room. You were fully asleep as Lucien nudged your shoulder, asking jokingly what you thought of his presentation. Once you awoke, you jolted up. You saw that the lecture hall was now empty and began furiously apologizing,

“I-I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I slept through it. Was it good? Of course it was good, that was a stupid question.”

Lucien only chuckled at you. How could you be so adorable? He never really cared when you wouldn’t grasp what he was talking about, it only mattered to him that you would show up. He spoke,

“Why don’t we have a cup of tea at my place and I can fill you in on the details,” A sly smile crept up along with a mischievous tone, “a private lecture of sorts.”

After a moment of thought, you gave in. You’d had a hard day, might as well go with him and see what would happen, even if nothing happened, you were still content with staring at him while listening to his smooth voice ramble on about whatever smart thing he had up his sleeve. He took your hand to help you up and the two of you began walking to his place.

On the way, you stopped to get a snack, and Lucien asked you,

“So, why is a certain little MC so sleepy today?”

You sighed, “It’s just work, I have so much to do, but I have almost no time to do it and I’m afraid of being told that my work isn’t good enough. I work so hard on all of the things I do, but they never seem to be up to Big Mr. Victor’s standards.”

He replied, “Don’t even get me started on Victor. He has, what we scientifically classify as, a stick up his ass.”

You almost choked on your food, you were laughing so hard. It felt so good to finally laugh that day, and while you knew Victor wasn’t actually as mean as he seemed, it was nice for someone to agree with you. Still laden with laughter, you glanced at Lucien. He was certainly the most interesting person you’d ever met. He was staring at you, a habit of his, and the way his dark eyes focused so intently on you, it made you feel special. Lucien as a whole made you feel special. You wanted to drink up his presence and never let him go. The way he could be so professional yet have such a lively sense of humor was just one of the traits you absolutely loved about him. But, with this news about him dating someone… it outright sucked. ‘Why can’t I be the one he’s dating?’ you thought. You were too shy to ask him about who it was his student’s said he was dating, not even really wanting to know the answer, you just pushed it to the back of your mind.

“You almost finished eating?” he asked, with his eyes still only on you. He had a hint of a smile grazing his features. Every time he saw you, he felt the need to know more about you. He wanted to be able to ace a test on you, you were just so intriguing. You were so different from the people he’d come into contact with, you were like a flood of bright light on his otherwise dark world. He looked down at the table, letting out a sigh. He was conflicted about how he felt for you, he felt like he couldn’t just outright tell you, he likened it to running black paint over the Mona Lisa. The last thing he wanted was for you to change, for you to become like him, because he knew the extent of things he could never tell you. He knew that he was closer to a devil than an angel, and to him, you were the exact opposite. He never wanted to lose that bright light you gave him.

“Yeah, I’m done now,” you said with a cheery expression. When Lucien was deep in thought, you always seemed to bring back his fading smiles. The two of you went on your way to his house, and by accident, you approached your own door. It dawned on you that you’d never actually been inside of his apartment before and by habit, you simply went your own way. ‘Today is different now’, you thought as you put your keys back into your pocket.

He opened the door for you and took your jacket. The air of the room was sort of awkward, Lucien was excited to have you over for the first time, while you were thinking of how whoever he’s dating has probably been in his house a billion times. Distracting yourself, you looked at all of the paintings on his walls, and a certain one caught your eye. It was a man under the night sky, reaching up to the stars where an ethereal being reached down to the man. Their hands would never touch because of the distance between them, but they kept reaching for each other.

“Who painted this?” you asked as you made your way to get a closer look.

“Oh, I did,” he replied casually, “I’m not the world’s best artist, but painting relaxes me.”

“You’re kidding! You painted this?” You eyed him and then the painting, “this is amazing, I couldn’t dream of doing this, don’t be so humble,” you chuckled out.

Lucien approached you, he thought it fitting that you stood next to a painting inspired by you. ‘By far’, he wished he could say, ‘you’re more beautiful than anything I could ever make.’ He lifted his arm to put around you, but stopped himself. Pulling his arm back to his side, he gave a polite thank you and went to the kitchen to make some tea for the two of you.

The both of you sat down and had a casual conversation, somehow making its way back to his presentation that you completely missed. You were in the middle of apologizing for the umpteenth time when Lucien’s suddenly found his mind cluttered with a billion things he wanted to say. The need to tell you his feelings, the need to kiss you, it ached deep in his heart and this never ending confliction, he thought, needs to come to an end. You were right there, and he knew that he loved you. He simply threw caution to the wind.

You were still talking, saying, “I really do need to have a better sleep schedule, and I promise I won’t fall asleep in your lectures anymore. I know I’ve done it a couple times, but-”

An impish smirk grew on his lips, he stared at you intently, capturing your attention, and said, “You know what? It doesn’t matter if you never listen to any of my lectures, so shut up, only these moments matter to me. Kiss me.” He delivered it so smoothly that you felt like you were melting in your chair.

You were taken aback, and certainly did shut up. You were blushing like mad, fumbling your hair and stuttering like crazy.

“L-Lucien,” you said. That was all you could get out before he got closer to you, much closer. His face was only inches away from yours. You could feel his warm breath as he spoke with that smooth, deep voice, saying,

“Please, won’t you?” Those dark eyes flitting from your gaze to your lips and back.

“But what about your, you know, your significant other…”

Pure confusion. Lucien looked like the meme with that lady surrounded by floating maths.

“M-my what?” He began laughing, he had no clue what you were on about. He hoped that this was the only reason you seemed hesitant to kiss him.

“Your student’s were talking about you dating someone and I-”

“MC, they think I’m dating you,”

Lucien’s laugh was bellowing through the room, while you, on the other hand, were wishing you could climb under a rock. Everything clicked in your head, the reason why you had no idea who he was dating, was because he wasn’t actually dating anyone. You were so embarrassed, but ultimately relieved.

He stroked your cheek, moving himself closer to you as the laughs faded away. MC.exe stopped working. You froze while in your head you were screaming ‘Yes Please Sir!’ Unconsciously you were also moving closer. The fading sun trickled through the window shades, surrounding the two of you in flakes of golden light. Lucien took hold of your jaw. In his eyes you could see so many emotions, he was so complex, like a puzzle you couldn’t figure out. In this tender moment, you thought you saw regret in his eyes, regret and sorrow mixed together with passion and love, an intriguing cocktail of emotion. You knew that you might never get to know him fully, but this was good enough for you. In an opposite fashion of his brazenly asking you to kiss him, he cautiously moved forward, bridging the gap between your lips. Gently, he kissed you, he moved so softly, seemingly afraid of damaging you, damaging this moment. His mind was a hurricane of thoughts, but when you were there with him, it was silent. You gave him serenity. You gave him happiness. You gave him so many things that he was terrified to let go of.

The two of you moved together, only breaking contact to take a breath. When you had finally separated, he pulled you into him. His slender arms holding you to his chest. You could hear his heart beating like a drum. ‘This moment should never end’ you thought, and, just for one night, neither of you would let it. The rest of the night carried on with you in his arms, both of you intertwined, so much so that your heartbeats seemed to merge together in this bliss and newfound passion.

—————————————————————————————————-

Hope you liked this story! I can’t say I’m super into lucien personality wise, but i cannot lie, he’s the sexiest of the boys lmao

My prompt requests are open, so feel free to leave an ask!

edit: real question, are my last few posts just like really bad? I noticed that my likes and reblogs went down tremendously, and I would like feedback about why. Don’t be afraid to give criticisms, I just want feedback. Thanks for reading and there’s more to come

95 notes · View notes

bcdrawsandwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Here’s a random, unpolished oneshot I wrote on a whim. Features the alebrije character Pizzicato, whom you’ll recognize if you’ve seen some of my other works.

In which Héctor winds up with an unfortunate nickname, and Gustavo learns why you don’t make comments about Héctor’s wife.

(Warning for some inappropriate comments from some of the characters.)

---~~~---

Héctor paused to lean his head against the cool metal handrail again, trying in vain to relieve the burning ache in his head. Shutting his eyes to block out the overcast sky ahead, he gripped the rail a moment longer, grateful they had actually bothered to install one on these stairs. (It was a rarity to have railings of any sort in the Land of the Dead, when one couldn't really die from a fall, but some buildings did have them, whether out of newly-dead contractors building them out of habit or from the insistence of people sticking to tradition.) After a minute, he heard a sleepy chirp from the tiny bat alebrije hanging off the back of his collar, and pulled himself away, forcing himself up a few more stairs.

He'd stop drinking one of these days, he promised himself. When he found a reason to quit, anyway.

Memories from the night before swam indistinctly in his mind as he continued to mount the stairs. He'd been working in the arts district, as usual, and had taken up some local musicians on an offer for drinking. While music was something he tried to avoid these days, the musicians had seemed friendly enough, and as much as he loved Pizzicato, talking with an alebrije tended to get a bit one-sided at times. Pizzicato hadn't exactly been thrilled with his joining them, he recalled, but the temptation of just... normal human interaction had been too strong to resist.

Might've been nice if the cerveza and tequila hadn't been too hard to resist, though.

Shaking his head (and then regretting it a second later when the world tipped), Héctor finally reached the top of the stairs, practically collapsing through the open window. Pizzicato gave a sleepy squeak in protest before snuggling back into his collar—he wasn't entirely sure why she was like that, other than that it probably had something to do with whatever happened the night prior. Leading him home while he was in a drunken daze, maybe.

"I was half-tempted to pull the stairs back up on you," Ceci muttered around the pins she held in her teeth. She didn't look up from her work, focused entirely on the dress hung on the mannequin before her. "What were you doing, sightseeing?"

"Buenas dias to you too," Héctor grumbled, pulling himself up to his feet and brushing off his hopelessly dirty jacket.

Ceci did give him a look, then, eying him over her shoulder. "Buenas tardes."

"Buenas tar... oh." He scratched the back of his head, blinking blearily. "Sorry. Lost track of time."

"Hopefully you didn't lose track of that delivery I sent you off with," she went on, resuming work on the dress.

"Oh, no no no, that's... that's all taken care of." Rubbing his hand over his eye sockets, he strained to remember yesterday. That memory was a bit clearer, at least—he definitely remembered the weird look the customer gave him when he handed him the package, and the lack of a tip. "I got it to them, no worries."

"Good."

He stood there awkwardly, hand on his wrist, as Ceci continued to work on the dress in relative silence (other than the record player running in the background—Héctor wasn't really paying attention to what it was playing, only grateful that it wasn't another de la Cruz album). Briefly he wondered if she'd forgotten he was there, and he pointed his finger to speak.

"If you're looking for another job," she began—Héctor flinched, the sudden volume sending a spike of pain through his head—"the dancers left a mess out in the gallery after their practice last night. The art crew won't clean it because they say it's not their mess, but they're still whining about the glitter getting into their paints." She paused. "And on the materials," she added, brushing something shimmering from the hem of the dress.

"Ah, g-gracias," Héctor stammered, passing through the designer's workshop and out into the main studio. At once he was greeted with the familiar sight of the hastily set-up barriers separating the work spaces of different artists. Many of them were lined with various paintings and sketches, but as Ceci had said, some of them were dusted in glitter. Frowning, he stepped up to one painting of a xolo dog, swiping his finger across the canvas to remove a few flecks of glitter... and yelped when some of the gray pigment came off with it, smearing on the painting. With a hasty glance aside, he wiped his hand off on the inside of his coat and speedily walked away, looking in the opposite direction of the painting.

"Okay, okay, glitter, glitter..." Head turned downward, he found scatterings of the stuff on the floor, and then looked up again. "Ah... I need a... uh... mop? No, no... broom? Dustpan?" He glanced over his shoulder, hoping Pizzicato might be of some use, but only heard a high-pitched snoring. Cute, but not helpful at the moment. Sighing, he looked to the walls of the studio, hoping one of the janitors may have left their equipment there, but no luck—only rows of outlandish costumes. Ugh... where was the janitor's closet, again?

Héctor poked his head into the entrance to one of the partitions, raising a finger and opening his mouth to ask, only to find several very, very tired artists and a skeleton posing nude for them. Clapping his hand over his eye sockets, he stumbled away. "Okay, okay, bad idea, do not ask the artists," he muttered, uncovering his face just in time to dodge another artist hurrying by with a large canvas. Looking around to make sure he wasn't about to collide with anyone else, he continued his aimless journey through the cluttered gallery. "Ask the... uh..."

The sound of laughter caught his metaphorical ears, and Héctor looked toward the far end of the studio, by the glass windows. They were still out of sight, but he was pretty sure he knew who was hanging out there.

His suspicions were confirmed by the sound of a trombone making a long, drawn-out note, followed by more laughter. "Right... ask... the musicians," he said, nodding to himself as he approached them.

As they came into sight, one of them spotted him and hastily shushed the others. That was... a little weird, but he was honestly too tired to care right now. He would've given them a sharp whistle to catch their attention, but was afraid of the noise only worsening his headache, and besides, they seemed to all be looking at him anyway. "Hola," he said, waving casually with one hand as he rubbed his head in the other.

"Ey, Héctor!" one of the violinists—what was his name, Héctor knew his name... Gustavo, that was it—said with a grin. "You doin' okay there?"

"Ehh... I've been better," Héctor said, making an effort to straighten his stance. It took a bit more effort than usual, but with the condition of his bones, what didn't these days? "Just... a bit too much to drink last night, I think."

"We could tell!" One of the musicians began to snicker, only to be elbowed in the ribs by another.

Héctor blinked. "Right. I just needed to ask a favor—"

"A favor?" one of the other violinists asked, while a few of her peers chuckled next to her. The noise seemed to be bugging Pizzicato, who stirred behind him, whining.

"Yes?" His bewilderment seemed to prompt a few more laughs that the musicians tried to cover. "Is... something funny about that?" he asked, briefly looking over his shoulder and wondering if his alebrije was doing something behind him to prompt the laughter.

"No, no," Gustavo said, waving his head. "Go on, what favor do you need?"

"I... just need someone to show me where the supply closet is. Ceci—"

The group immediately burst into laughter, the trombonist accompanying it with ridiculous playing. The sound was like a dagger being driven into his skull, and he held his hands over his head. "Ay, stop it!" he cried, staring at them in utter confusion. "What's so funny?!"

Finally Pizzicato seemed to be roused from her slumber, and he felt her little claws digging into his wig as she climbed up to the top of his head, squeaking in displeasure.

"Who do you want to meet in the closet, eh?" one of the musicians jeered.

"¿Qué?" Héctor blurted. He couldn't make any sense of what they were talking about. Whatever it was, Pizzicato seemed upset by it, letting out a growl, but he couldn't make heads or tails of it. "I don't... meet? I'm just trying to—"

"Not one of the girls, that's for sure!" the female violinist added, causing the others to laugh harder.

"I... uh?" That made nothing any clearer, and Héctor was feeling increasingly lost. It would make more sense if the group were just a bunch of cackling hyena alebrijes in disguise. But one thing was becoming clear—whatever they were laughing about, it was at his expense. But what would they...

A sudden panic bolted up his spine, and Héctor whipped around, yanking his alebrije off of his head. "Pizzicato," he whispered desperately, clutching the bat close to his face. "What exactly did I say last night?"

Of course Pizzicato could not answer, only staring up at him apologetically. But his question had apparently not been as quiet as he'd hoped, as Gustavo spoke up behind him: "Oh, nothing too important... chorizo."

The word was punctuated with a few ridiculous notes from the trombonist, and Héctor let go of the alebrije, turning back around to face them again. "C-chorizo?" he repeated. What did that have to do with...?

"Chorizo!" one of the other band members shouted, with a few others echoing it between laughs. Still none of that cleared it up, until another went on: "What a way to go!"

What a way to... oh. Right, that was how he'd... Was that what had happened last night? He'd rambled about how he'd died? That's what was making them laugh like deranged hyenas?

His chest burned in indignation. "W-well I'm sure the way you all died wasn't much better!" he said, gesturing at the group.

"Sure it was!" Gustavo said, getting close enough to elbow Héctor in the side. "Better than choking on a chorizo!"

"What?!" Héctor stepped back, hands up defensively. "That wasn't—! It was bad, I got food poisoning!"

"Sure you did, chorizo!"

He found himself staring at them as they continued to laugh, wondering why the difference even mattered, whether he died by food poisoning or choking on—

Oh.

...Oh.

His cheek bones burned furiously, and he turned away again, covering his face. "That was not what happened," he grumbled into his hands. Not that it would convince them. Pizzicato fluttered around nearby, squeaking angrily at the group, but he tried to wave her off. "Basta—all right, you've had your laugh. Very funny. Now could you just show me where the supply—"

"Ey, didn't you say you were married, too?" Gustavo asked, one brow raised, and the inside of Héctor's rib cage was suddenly burning in anger. "Did she know about—"

The shock of anger traveled quickly from Héctor's heart to his fist.

Next thing he knew, Gustavo was staggering back, supported by the trombonist while the other musicians gave ooooohs of both sympathy and interest. A small part of Héctor regretted the action, but the rest of him didn't care, and his fist remained clenched.

Stupid jokes were one thing, but to even dare to suggest infidelity...

"What's your problem, man?" Gustavo cried, rubbing his jaw where he'd been struck. "Can't you take a—"

Before he could finish, Pizzicato buzzed in front of the group, letting out a terrible, high-pitched shriek that left all of them shrinking back, including Héctor. The noise magnified his headache, nearly blinding him, and he staggered back, blurting out a curse. Immediately the noise stopped, but he was already storming away, eyes narrowed against the ringing in his skull. "Forget it, I'm done," he snarled. "Ceci or whoever can clean the place themselves."

Pizzicato was fluttering after him, squeaking an apology, but Héctor did not slow his pace. He couldn't find the stupid broom, but he knew very well where the exit was—a different one from the fire escape ladder in Ceci's room. Unfortunately, while he left Gustavo and his stupid group behind, the anger and humiliation followed him out of the studio, clinging to his bones. He punched the metal railing of the stairs in an attempt to rid himself of the emotions, but it only resulted in a shock of pain traveling up his arm.

Finally Pizzicato caught up to him, landing on his head and squeaking in concern. "You know," he muttered, narrowing his eyes against the light as he stepped outside, "I'm starting to hate musicians."

His alebrije whined, but said nothing more.

She didn't need to remind him.

#hector rivera #gustavo #coco #pixar coco #coco spoilers #my writing #fanfic #the musicians' dialogue was not particularly enjoyable to write #but it was necessary for the subject matter

12 notes · View notes

smashskate · 5 years ago

Text

Honey Newcomb - For @eeriesims‘s “The Many Suitors of One Clary Wiggins”

Honey Newcomb is your resident nymph-next door; A bubbly personality surrounded by unearthly beauty, she’s a staple character in the Glimmerbrook community. Having lived there since she was a child, Honey is well integrated with the residents who inhabit the sweet little sea town. Although she was urged by her mother and father to go to a specialty school to develop her inherited powers, Honey decided she would rather settle down with a normal job, taking up the position as Head Waitress at Dino’s Diner. Since then, she’s developed a strong foundation within the community, often letting people confide in her over a morning cup of coffee. If you need help with a problem, need to vent, or just want to talk, you go to Honey. She also bakes a mean apple pie; you’ll always come back for another slice.

General Information

Name: Honey Erytheia Newcomb

Birthday/Age: October 7th, 1994 (Age 25)

Astrological Info: Libra Sun, Cancer Moon, Pisces rising

Species: Hesperides Nymph

Height: 5’5

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual

Gender/Pronouns: Female, she/her pronouns

Nicknames: Honey (her name is a nickname in of itself), Bee + Honey Bun by friends and family, Betty by many of the townsfolk for her similarities to a stereotypical 50s blonde

Occupation: The Head Waitress at Dino’s Diner; everyone knows her, everyone loves her.

Fun Facts

“You know, back when I did roller derby…” - The key factor that drew Honey to the waitress application at Dino’s was the inclusion of rollerskates in the uniform. Honey competed in professional roller derby during her early twenties, and never quite gave up her love for it. However, she soon found out she was much more coordinated on the track than in the diner when she fell flat on her arse the first day. She’ll bring her past up at random points, but mostly to convince people that she’s not a complete mess on wheels.

“How are y’all doin’ today?” - Somehow, over the years, Honey developed a slight southern drawl. This was peculiar, since no one in her family has a southern accent and Glimmerbrook is nowhere near the deep south. However, customers find it quite charming. Honey chalks this quirk up to her being incredibly impressionable, assuming she picked it up from some passing tourists.

“He’s not weird, he’s adorable!” - Being a nymph, Honey has always had a connection to nature and animals. This has brought her to collect an interesting array of pets over the years. Her most beloved pet is her tarantula, Alberto. People never seem to want to get to know him, and just think he’s strange. It wounds her deeply, he’s a lovely fellow once you warm up to him!

“Oh my gosh, I’m not even goin’ that fast, stop screaming!” - Honey is a horrible driver. She’ll never admit it, and always offers to give people rides or be the designated driver. Don’t let her. Please, it’s for your own good. She drives a buggy that looks like its been through a hurricane.

“See, watch!” *fuse bursts* - Honey’s overarching classification is a Light/Star nymph, although specifically her species is a Hesperides. This means that she cannot create light, but she can manipulate it. Or rather, she would be able to, if she went to school to hone her skills. As it stands, all she can do is make lights shine a little brighter, although it usually comes with a few busted fuses. She can light candles without matches though, which is pretty cool.

“A second chance can’t hurt, right?” - In her younger years, Honey was incredibly trusting, almost to a fault. She often put others before herself, and some took advantage of that. While she’s learned from her mistakes, there's still a part of her that always wants to see the best in people. She doesn’t like to use the term naive, but she knows that it’s an accurate descriptor sometimes.

“... Sorry, what was I saying?” - Honey tends to ramble a lot, and often loses her train of thought. You’ll get her started on one topic, and in a few seconds you’ll be miles away. You might have to tap her on the shoulder to reel her back into the present.

Fun Little Quirks

Her favorite fruit is peaches, and she has to have some at least once a day. It brings her life a little more consistency.

Her handwriting is incredibly neat. The cooks who read the orders at the diner appreciate this immensely.

She’s played the violin since she was a child. While she hasn’t played ensemble in years, she still picks it up for a tune now and then.

There's a tally board in the kitchen at the diner counting how many plates she’s broken. They’ve already had to move to a second page.

She loves to embroider, and often gives her latest projects to her friends for free. Most of the shops in town have one hanging in their window.

Important Questions

How did you meet Clary?

“Well, it’s the funniest thing! I actually heard about her before I met her. I was pouring a morning cup of green tea for Guillermo Reyes, you know, the librarian? And you know how much that man loves a little gossip. Well, he told me that he had heard from Layla who heard from Jack who heard from Mabel that Ronnie had seen a mysterious woman pull up to Etheline’s house late the afternoon before, and that apparently it was her granddaughter! So, of course, I’m intrigued. And then, as luck has it, right when Mr.Reyes walked out the door, she walked in! She sat down at a booth, and I was so nervous that I forgot to take off my skates when I went to take her order! So, of course, I fell. Oh gosh, I’m embarrassed even thinking about it! Thankfully, she didn’t make fun of me, just gave a little chuckle and helped me to my feet. I took her order in pretty much a daze. I almost fell over again when she waved at me on her way out.”

What was your first impression of Clary?

“Honestly? Well, of course I thought she was absolutely gorgeous. Dark hair, dark eyes, ugh! I could go on all day! I also noticed her ears. While elves and nymphs aren’t exactly uncommon ‘round here, their ears haven’t really been passed down. So seeing a dame with those ears? Shocking, but amazing! I haven’t seen someone with ears like mine in many moons. Her hands were also incredibly soft. Literally, I don’t think I’ve ever felt something so soft in my life! Well, that’s probably not true... but that’s how it felt!”

What is your ideal date?

“Oh gosh, I haven’t been on a real date in so long! Well, from my experience, it’s always best to get to know someone a little bit before going on a date. I would invite them over to the diner a few times, just to form a bond. They also get to see me in my natural habitat, at my happiest and my most stressed. Then, once that’s done, I’d love a picnic at the wharf! Sure, the area’s a bit grimey and cluttered, but it’s just so peaceful there, you wouldn’t believe it! One of my other favorite past times is stargazing in the fields just outside of town. There’s this hidden nook in the trees there that my parents used to take me to for training. It gets the most beautiful lighting, day or night. I’ve always wanted to take someone there!”

What is your ideal relationship?

“I really just want someone who’s as invested in the relationship as I am. Some people only want to date for the sake of dating, not actually caring for the other person as they should. If I get into a relationship, I want to feel everything. The highs, lows, and in-betweens. Obviously no relationship is perfect, but I am a firm believer in clear communication. I need to know how you’re feeling.”

“I’m also super touchy-feely. Doesn’t matter when or why, I’ll probably be draping myself over you in some way. Physical contact doesn’t have to lead to something more; Sometimes the best thing is just knowing that the other person is there with you.”

“I want a relationship where we listen to each other. Even if I don’t understand your emotions regarding something, I want to validate them and be there for you. But I want that from the other person too. I tend to be pretty insecure at times, and it would be nice to have someone to snap me out of those thoughts every now and then. I believe that in a relationship you grow together.”

“I never really know what to expect out of a relationship, because everyone’s different. I’m not gonna lie, there's been a few people who have taken me through the ringer, and I haven’t come out undamaged. I want someone who can show me how beautiful love can be, even with its faults.”

What is Honey’s personality like?

Like her name, Honey is sweetness personified. She dislikes the stereotype of nymphs being air-headed and easily manipulated. She is kind and caring, but she doesn’t want to let people walk over her. Sadly, she is often one to walk over herself. She tends to be very self-critical, always wondering if she could have ever amounted to something more. Although she never craved a life beyond her current status, her mother’s powerful reputation as a healer looms over her. She’s also probably the clumsiest person you will ever meet, often taking off her roller-skates to deliver orders to tables out of fear of falling over. Big “i’m baby” energy.

Even though she’s young, Honey is definitely the mom type. Everyone who walks through the door has a story, and she wants to make them feel welcome and wanted no matter what, rain or shine. If someone’s feeling down, she’ll make the sun shine a little brighter. She also has a knack for guessing just what people want to eat on any given day. If you think you don’t know what you want, no problem. Honey’s great at reading people, but there have been times where she’s let the glasses stay on a bit too long.

Honey lives in a cottage in the suburbs of Glimmerbrook. The atmosphere is warm and welcoming, but don’t come in without being invited. She’s got about fifteen guard animals waiting.

Honey’s hobbies mostly revolve around baking, cooking, and general upkeep of the diner. After hours, you’ll most likely find her bundled up on the back steps of the diner, sharing a hot chocolate with one of Glimmerbrook’s interesting residents, or giving tourists tips on the hidden gems around town. Honey is perfectly amicable with the townsfolk, and loves them dearly, but she’s never been able to find that special someone. She hopes that one day someone will come to sweep her off her feet and make her feel the things she’s heard about from the local lovebirds.

In-Game Information

Traits:

Cheerful

Outgoing

Clumsy

Aspiration: Friend of the World

Outfits (L to R: Work ~ Everyday ~ Date)

#the many suitors #the many suitors of one clary wiggins #themanysuitors #eeriesims #ts4 #sims 4 #the sims #sims4 #ts4 challenge #this took way longer to put together than I thought it would lol

26 notes · View notes

enthusiastic-sarcastic · 5 years ago

Text

One Entirely Haphazard Arrangement (Tim Murphy x Reader) [Pt. 1]

A/N: Ok so this is longggg overdue and I apologize for taking so damn long to post this. I think I said I would write this in early July but I just got so caught up in the story and turned it into a whole three part fic...oh yeah, and I sort of moved to college so that took away some of my time 😂 but it’s finally here! I sort of struggled with this one because I haven’t creatively written anything in so long but it was really fun to write and I'm looking forward to writing more in the future! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this silly little friends-to-lovers Tim fic! Parts 2 and 3 will be up within the next few days. Again, sorry if this is trashhh

Words: Roughly 3.9k

Warnings: cursing, stress/anxious habits, cringeee writing?, I guess a Jersey Boys reference if for some reason you resent the jukebox musical or Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons

You have always had this infuriating habit of excessively scratching at the back of your hand like a cat attacking a toy laced with catnip whenever you become particularly anxious about the current state of your life.

And working at your newly appointed job as co-director of the art department at the museum has certainly proven to be more than stressful enough over these last eight months.

Whether it has you tumbling out of bed before the sun rises to make sure that that damned office projector is working in time for a 6 o’ clock meeting that your boss decided to throw together at the last minute or facing certain embarrassment upon being woken up by the night-watch guard because of a silly intention to stay after for only a few more minutes to finish editing one of your interns’ research reports, you had completely sacrificed any regard for your own basic health at this point for the sake of your job and its lingering promise of a future promotion.

A promotion that could potentially be awaiting you at the other end of your boss’ door in just under half an hour.

A promotion that could finally lead to the publication of the passion project that you’ve been steadily working on since your early college days.

A promotion that has you relying on old habits again as you scratch at the back of your hand under your cluttered office desk and stare down the hands of the clock on the wall across from you like your life depends on it.

Tick. Tick. Ticking away among the plethora of familiar noises that make up the busy atmosphere of your department. Drowning out the occasional flutter of footsteps stumbling down the hallway or the quiet laughs of your coworkers walking out of yet another dreadful planning session or even the absurdly shrill screeching sound that the copier down the hall likes to make every single time someone dares to use it.

Swiftly swallowing up all signs of life that surround you as your throat starts to feel like it’s closing in on itself and your breathing turns into something that more closely resembles gasping.

You’re just too good to be true...

Can’t take my eyes off of you...

And then so suddenly, a voice breaks through the numbness that has almost paralyzed you and reality starts to bleed back into place—a beacon of hope.

You’d be like heaven to touch...

I wanna hold you so much...

It takes a while for you to place the source of the voice as the all-to-familiar sound of your Jersey Boys ringtone blaring out from your phone across the room, but once you finally bring yourself back into a state of complete clarity, you rush out of your chair and stumble towards the singing object, desperate for a distraction.

Without bothering to glance at the name flashing across the screen, you answer the call and bring the phone up to your ear, eager to listen to whatever will take your mind off of that ticking clock.

“Hello?”

“Uh—Hey (Y/N), it’s Tim…”

A smile instantly rises across your face as you recognize the voice of your cute neighbor, Tim Murphy.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting something...I know how busy you’ve been with work lately”

“No—no, it’s fine...you’re fine,” You chime in awkwardly, attempting to reassure him as a familiar fuzzy feeling begins to spread across your entire body.

To say that you had practically fallen hopelessly in love with the paleontologist ever since you accidentally attempted to break into his apartment at 3 a.m. in a half-asleep daze that led you to believe that you weren’t just one door off would be an understatement. That was an embarrassing introduction, to say the least.

“So...what’s up? Is everything alright?” You honestly hadn’t expected Tim to call you at this time of day...or really ever, seeing as how both of your work schedules are so chaotic that you only ever really interact with each other in the dead of the night, so this was a pleasant surprise.

“Yeah, yeah—everything’s great—It’s just...well, I don’t want to startle you or anything but when I got home from work, I found Stevie prancing around outside on my balcony again and—”

Your heart instantly drops into your stomach and you’re suddenly met with the urge to bang your head against a wall from the sudden embarrassment,

“Ah shit! I’m such a clumsy idiot! I probably left my bedroom window open again…”

“No, it’s okay! Don’t worry! Stuff like this happens to everyone. Stevie’s perfectly fine now! I actually just brought her inside my apartment. Poor thing was shivering so I gave her some food and that pretty much cheered her up instantly” Tim chuckles into the phone, causing your cheeks to flush a light shade of pink.

“Oh god, she’s gonna be so mad at me!” You groan as your head begins to feel like it’s spinning from all the guilt and nerves overwhelming you, “I’m so so sorry, Tim. Thanks for rescuing her from my clumsy antics”

“No need to apologize,” Tim laughs again, which doesn’t exactly help with your lightheadedness, “It’s the least I could do. I mean, especially after all those times you’ve looked after my house plants while I was away on a dig”

“You do have a point, Tim Murphy. What would you or your precious house plants ever do without me?” You tease lightly, attempting to calm your nerves, and pulling another angelic laugh from the other end of the phone.

“No, but in all seriousness,” You continue, “I’m going to make it up to you somehow...No ifs, ands, or buts, Murphy!

Tim groans playfully from the other end of the phone and you shake your head with a smirk before a sudden voice cuts through the uneasy silence of your office and the endearing moment abruptly ceases.

“Miss (L/N), Dr. Vaughn has requested that you head down to his office for that meeting now”

You let out another disgruntled sigh before nodding to the kind intern peeking his head through your office doorway,

“Ugh sorry to cut this short, Tim, but I have something kinda important to discuss with my boss right now and I really can’t afford to screw it up...” You trail off with a sigh, not wanting to end the call so soon.

“Oh...alright—yeah...that’s totally fine—I understand...” Tim rambles, sympathy laced within his voice,

“Good luck! I’m sure everything will go smoothly. I believe in you!”

You let out another nervous laugh, your cheeks now entirely red as you take in his words of encouragement, “Thanks for the kind words...and for taking care of Stevie! I’ll stop by to pick her up whenever I get out of this place”

You say your final goodbyes and end the call, shakily placing your phone back down onto your desk before finally making your way towards your boss’ office, scratching at the back of your hand again.

——————————————————————————————————

“I’m sorry...Are you serious?! This has to be some sort of sick joke…right?” You gawk at your boss, your body shaking in aggravation and utter disbelief.

However, he just simply smirks at you and shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as his eyes switch between you and your...colleague.

“Dr. Vaughn, don’t you think you’re taking this a little too far?!” You groan in exasperation, shifting your eyes to take a look at your fellow co-director: the one coworker that just so happens to also be your ex.

Yes, your ex, Charles.

The one that abandoned you while you were away on a business trip, moving out of your shared apartment overnight all for his new blonde assistant...cliche and all.

The reason that you’ve worked so hard in this job for the past year of your life.

Not to win him back or follow through with some crude form of revenge—you weren’t at all that type of person.

But to gain back the sense of integrity that he had so swiftly stomped on and finally prove him wrong: to prove to yourself that you are, in fact, good enough.

“I don’t see anything inherently wrong with a little healthy competition, Miss (L/N)”

Your boss speaks up, calmly, the smirk across his face only widening as he looks up at you from his enormous office chair.

“I’m just not particularly fond of the idea that one of us ends up completely jobless by the end of this!”

“Oh please, (Y/N), calm down”

Charles finally speaks up from beside you, causing you to roll your eyes and dig your fingernails into your palms from the sheer rage that now seemed to be pulsating throughout your entire being,

“I’m sure whoever gets the short end of the stick in this...arrangement can always turn to the other for a raving recommendation letter after they track down and apply to whatever museum establishment that’s desperate enough to hire them after this”

The shared dark laughter that escapes the both of them at his sad attempt to reassure you only makes your stomach curl in disgust. How can he just be okay with all of this?

“Honestly, all you have to do is write an introductory speech that addresses the latest contemporary art exhibition for the museum’s annual winter gala next Saturday. That gives you both the same amount of time to prepare your material and secure dates for the event, so I think this whole competition sounds pretty fair to me”

“But Dr. Vaughn—“

Your boss abruptly cuts you off, again, “I will allow you both five minutes. Mr. Sterling, you’ll go first before introducing your fellow co-director to the stage, then Miss (L/N) will give her speech before calling me up to the stage. Whoever gives the best speech in reference to the new exhibition will be promoted to head director of this museum’s contemporary art department...and the other will unfortunately be let go from their current position”

You let out an aggravated sigh, which prompts Charles to smirk in your direction,

“And that’s final! Now, get the hell out of my office!”

——————————————————————————————————

The journey home couldn’t have been more painstakingly difficult.

First, you missed your usual train and had to wait a whole 45 minutes for the next one. Then, it began to rain as soon as you started walking down the street towards your apartment and just as your doorman graciously greeted your shaking figure as you scurried into the building, you remembered that the stack of paperwork that you had planned to finish up was locked away...in your desk...back at the museum.

And now, as you trudge down the hallway of your apartment floor, soaked head to toe from the rain, your heart begins to race as you make your way in front of Tim Murphy’s door and muster up the courage to knock.

It only takes a few minutes for the door to open, but once it finally does, you’re met with the sight of an adorable, half-asleep paleontologist that makes you feel like you could melt into the floor at any given moment.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming”

You chuckle halfheartedly at him, a tired smile making its way across your face regardless of the pounding sensation in your head and the ringing sounds in your ears. Tim always seems to have that effect on you.

“Sorry, I had a long day” You mutter, cheekily.

Tim hums amusedly before moving to the side to let you in,

“I was fully prepared to take Stevie in as my own, actually. I have an extra cat bed and everything. I’m sure she’d get along just fine with Lydia”

You enter the apartment and spot your beloved cat sleeping cozily under the breakfast table near the kitchen, curled up right next to Tim’s orange tabby.

You smile at the sight, taking your wet shoes off before plopping down onto one of the stools at the kitchen counter, exhausted.

“Honestly, you make a better parent than I could ever be” You chuckle, glancing towards Tim as he sets down a glass of water in front of you. His disheveled hair and slightly pouting mouth causes a blush to grow across your cheeks again as you’re reminded of something,

“Sorry if my late arrival woke you up”

He shakes his head at you, a sleepy smile spreading across his face,

“It’s okay, I wasn’t exactly...asleep. I had to finish up some last minute research in preparation for an excavation in Arizona next week”

Next week. Fuck.

You chug the water in front of you, abruptly, before placing the cup back down onto the counter and burying your face into your hands. Your mind spiraling with thoughts about the impending winter gala and him.

“So...I’m assuming that that conversation with your boss didn’t go over very well”

You groan in acknowledgement, before glancing back up at the attentive paleontologist,

“You could say that,” You laugh, sarcastically, “Hell, I may not even have a job by the time next week rolls around”

This seems to get Tim’s attention, because he leans closer to you from the other side of the kitchen counter and your breath hitches in your throat when you notice the way his biceps flex from underneath his sweatshirt.

“Well now you have to tell me what happened” He exclaims, with a tone of genuine curiosity.

You almost can’t formulate a response when you realize just how close your hands are from each other, so you muster out a weak cough and casually begin to play with the empty glass in front of you.

It’s just a hand, (Y/N). Just a nice, particularly soft-looking hand that just so happens to belong to your incredibly brilliant and handsome neighbor, Tim Murphy. Calm down.

“Well, my boss has always been one to enjoy watching people suffer before rewarding them” You sigh in frustration as you recall the last few hours of your day,

“I thought I was walking into his office to finally receive the promotion that I’ve been working day and night over for the last eight months,” You continue, running a finger across the rim of the glass repeatedly, as anxiety starts to rise within your chest again,

“And I suppose my suspicions were right” You chuckle, sadly, “but he ended up making the so-called promotion a competition between my ex and I”

You bite your lip in frustration, the wounds inflicted from the previous conversation still fresh on your mind.

“Wait—you’re not talking about…” Tim trails off in disbelief and you nod your head in confirmation.

Tim Murphy was well acquainted with the sheer emotional damage that Charles had put you through. In fact, after the break-up, it was Tim that so graciously convinced you to get the hell out of bed and resume the rest of your life after coming over to your apartment due to another mail mix-up. While you took a well-needed shower, Tim prepared a nice spaghetti dinner and put on some comedy show for the both of you to watch aimlessly as you attempted to catch up on what the rest of the world was doing after it had seemingly crashed all around you. That night definitely didn’t do anything to alleviate your growing feelings for him.

“Wow” His head tilts in slight surprise, “That’s so unfair!”

“Right! That’s exactly what I said to my boss but he wasn’t having any of it” You scoff as you recall the aggravating image of your boss’ smirking face.

“And now I have to work my ass off trying to write a decent introduction speech commemorating our latest exhibition for the winter gala. Oh! And I have to find a date to the stupid thing with only a weeks notice! Where in the world am I going to find a date to this event with only a weeks notice in this city!?”

You were starting to freak out now, pulling on some strands of damp hair that you had somehow managed to wrap entirely around your fingers as you tried to make sense of your unfortunate predicament.

“I could be your date.”

The words fall from Tim’s mouth so abruptly and effortlessly that it takes a few seconds for you to register their meaning.

“What?”

“Well...I think I still have a nice suit lying around here somewhere from my last work event. Plus, I’ve been to my fair share of museum galas, so it won’t be much of a hassle. I could be your date.”

“Tim, you really don’t have to do this! I mean—What about the excavation to Arizona? You can’t miss out on that! I would feel so bad if I made you miss out on that trip all because of this stupid arrangement” You’re blushing now at his offer and suddenly the wall next to his head is very captivating.

“When exactly is this winter gala anyways?”

“Saturday at 6 p.m.”

A smug, satisfied grin stretches across Tim’s face as he leans even closer to you and the redness across your cheeks grows when your eyes meet,

“I get back Friday night. It’ll be fine.”

You sigh in guilt, not wanting to overstep, “Are you absolutely certain about this? I guarantee you’ll be exhausted once you get back and I don’t wanna drag you into another tedious social event right after a week of strenuous excavation work”

“I mean if you want me to memorize some cue cards, I’m all for that...but I think I have enough experience under my belt from high school theatre group to properly wing it”

You chuckle at his lame attempt to humor you, but your resolve remains undeterred,

“And you’re 100% positive that you’re okay with staying by my side all night, in formal dress attire, chatting up a storm with just about any and most likely all of my colleagues over strictly art related stuff? It’s an exhausting experience.”

Tim shrugs his shoulders, the amused, stubborn grin never leaving his face,

“Like I said before, I go to museum galas all the time, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

You let out another exasperated sigh in defeat, standing up from your stool at the counter and walking towards the fridge to fill your glass again. A shiver runs down your spine and you want to blame the wet nature of your clothes but you know from the shakiness of your fingers carrying the glass and the heat radiating off your cheeks that it’s because of the close proximity between Tim’s face and yours just moments ago.

“Fine. You can be my date. But I seriously cannot thank you enough for what you’re doing for me, Tim Murphy. I really have done nothing but complain to you all evening and now you’re swooping in and saving my ass again. What—Do I have to sell you my soul this time to properly repay my debt?”

Tim chuckles, turning around to look at you again.

“Luckily for you, I’m feeling generous enough to let you keep your soul for just a little while longer. But seriously, don’t feel pressured to repay me.”

You open your mouth to protest but the words are silenced by the sound of thunder rumbling from just outside the apartment, shaking the floor beneath your feet.

“Shit! I completely forgot that it’s raining,” Tim gestures towards your clothes, his eyes wide with concern, “You must be freezing!”

You blush again as you glance down towards your damp clothes, “Oh no! It’s fine, I sort of forgot about it too...I’m not—”

You trail off when you realize that Tim is no longer standing right in front of you, only to hear the sound of him rummaging through his laundry machine.

You grin widely as you’re reminded of just how insistently kind and compassionate he can be.

He sort of stumbles back into the kitchen from a clumsy attempt at speed-walking, and before you realize it, he’s wrapping a warm bath towel around your shoulders and rubbing the material up and down your arms to help you dry off.

The grin on your face only widens and you lock your eyes onto the floor, hoping to hide the now stark red state of your blushing cheeks.

“Jeez, Tim, you really didn’t have to go through all that trouble, but thanks” You mumble, trying to keep yourself composed.

Tim only laughs in exasperation at your comment, “What kind of host would I be if I let you freeze to death?”

You glance back up at him, attempting to ignore the way that your breath hitches when you notice the close proximity of your faces again,

“Well...technically I forced you to invite me when I stupidly left my bedroom window open this morning…” You trail off when Tim gives you a pointed look, as if to say: You’re always welcome here, regardless of the circumstances.

Your gaze drops to the floor again as another rumble of thunder shakes the whole apartment, and the grin returns to your face when you make out the smallest detail of a mini brachiosaurus on the bath towel,

“Why am I not surprised that you have your own personalized dino bath towels, Tim Murphy”

He laughs bashfully and you glance up to take in the sight. His eyes meet yours and you smile back at each other for what feels like a lifetime, your heart pounding in your chest as the space between the two of you almost seems to get smaller and smaller until...you’re interrupted by the feeling of something fluffy brushing across your feet and the familiar purring sound of your cat, Stevie.

“I should probably go. You need your rest and I need to get started on the first draft of my speech. I gotta get a head start on that asshole, at the very least.”

Tim chuckles understandably and the towel leaves your shoulders, taking the warmth that had so swiftly flooded your body with it.

“Yeah, you’re probably right, I should go to bed and you should start writing a very important introduction speech at one in the morning”

Your eyes widen and Stevie lets out another loud purring noise, as if amused by your blatant clumsiness,

“What the fuck?! I swear it was just 11:30”

Tim only shrugs again in amusement and you promptly lean down to scoop up your cat from the ground in an attempt to hide the blush that seemed to now be permanently etched across your cheeks, desperate for a chance to leave before you could embarrass yourself any further.

“Thanks again, Tim...for everything! I guess I’ll see you next weekend...” You mumble out the words quickly, flashing Tim an awkward smile as you put your slightly damp shoes back onto your feet.

“(Y/N)...”

“Oh right, and good luck with your Arizona excavation...I just know you’ll discover something truly spectacular this time!” You’re shuffling towards the front door now, silently praying that the sound of your heart pounding against your chest isn’t loud enough for Tim to hear.

“Thanks, I’ll see-”

But you don't even let him finish before you promptly shut the door behind you, feeling equally elated as you do terrified about the week ahead of you and the absurdity of this entirely haphazard arrangement.

7 notes · View notes

seasaltmemories · 6 years ago

Text

Rosea Puella: Year 8

Rating: T

Summary: He gave it a month. A month to see if there was any room for him in that little house anymore, if Gyoku would give him the decency of disdain, if the eunuch would grow some balls and kill him like he wanted to, if the girl would ever elicit any emotion from him besides plain old fear

Judal paced back and forth as he waited in the backyard.

Patience had never been a virtue of his, but knowing the eunuch, he enjoyed making him wait. Once he had processed that Judal wasn’t some ghost or other shit, he had been quick to return to the sharp-tongued snob he always was.

“What do you want?” Ka Koubun threw the words out like a knife as he cradled the child against him.

In the past, Judal might have adopted the same sharpness, maybe add in a jab just to piss him off some more. But as he imagined how such a scenario would play out, he was overcome with exhaustion. “Just want to talk to Gyoku,” he sighed. Honesty tasted unfamiliar on his tongue, but he swallowed it down all the same.

“You think she wants to talk to you!?” It seemed Judal’s less snarky attitude only made him grow angrier. “After you defiled her purity, burdened her with a child, then abandoned them both?!”

“’Course I wouldn’t be surprised if she hated my guts--” Judal groaned. As unsure as he had been about returning, spite half-tempted him to go ahead and march right into the house as if he had only gone out for a walk.

What kept him glued right in place was the pair of wide red eyes that studied him fiercely.

“--but then why do you expect a monster to care about what others think?” He knew he was showing teeth, but he wasn’t sure if it was in a smile or a snarl. He waited for a reaction, but they only continued to look at him in confusion and that tiredness returned full force.

“If she doesn’t want to talk to me, then I can make sure you never have to see me again.” Judal grew dead serious. “I’m not doing this for myself you know? It’s for her.”

Ka Koubun wavered, eyes darting back and forth as he thought. Then out of nowhere he shoved the child into his arms.

“If you hurt her, I’ll rip your fucking throat out.” There was no heat to the curse, only a deadly chill. Before Judal could react, Ka Koubun had already scrambled inside.

That was what brought him here: waiting as if this was his execution.

The child had stopped playing and simply sat quietly on the steps. Despite having been so full of energy before, she kept to herself, fidgeting back and forth. Every now it then she would glance over at him when she thought he wouldn’t notice.

He always did though, because he kept doing the same thing. Ugh, why did Ka Koubun stick the brat on him? Did he hope mere proximity would get those nonexistent paternal instincts going? It was difficult seeing the use in letting her presence affect him before he had even made it one step back into the house.

But it was even more impossible to keep that nagging feeling in the back of his head from bugging him.

“Oi, kid!” The child sat up straight and her face turned red, as if she had been caught with her hand in the sweets jar.

“Who are you?” Her words were high-pitched and indistinguishable in that way all children sound identical when young, yet there was a quiet fear to them.

Judal chewed the inside of his cheek. “An old friend of your mother’s. What about you, kid?”

“I’m Taohua.” Taohua, now he could remember Gyoku choosing that. It was like her to try and make something good of a situation that had just been plain bad.

“And that was Ka.” Taohua pointed at the door as if she was excited to have finally drifted back into territory she knew.

“Oh don’t worry I know the old bastard.” It only occurred to him then that he probably shouldn’t curse in front of a...two year old? four year old? Whatever the case he quickly dismissed the concern when he considered the actual war crimes he had committed.

“He takes care of me and Mama.”

“I’m sure he does, he even took care of her when we were children.” He had talked with kings and queens, faced down the most powerful warriors in the world, and yet somehow this was the most tense ordeal he had ever experienced.

“Are you Judal?” From the top of his head to the very blood in his bones, he froze. His body was still functioning, he could see her curious expression, but his brain couldn’t put the pieces together to form an actual thought.

Before his terror could show however, the eunuch popped back out of the house with his cold smugness. The mere air around him made Judal annoyed, which at least was better than petrified.

“Gyoku is not feeling well, so you can’t see her today. Still she’s willing to let you stay for the week no questions asked.”

“Guess that will do.” Judal ran a hand through his braid. “I’m gonna wash myself up. Tell me when it’s dinner time, eunuch.” He traced the steps back to his old room yet was surprised when he got there and found that it had been left untouched.

With a sigh he plopped down on the sleeping mat. Was this supposed to be when you said home, sweet, home?

He didn’t get to see Gyoku that evening. When the eunuch called him for dinner, it was only the kid and him sitting at the table.

“Gyoku’s feeling unwell,” was the only explanation that he would give. As simple and logical as it was, his defensiveness made Judal suspicious. When the same excuse was parroted the following morning, it became impossible to contain his restlessness.

“If she didn’t want to see me then why didn’t she just say so? Didn’t have to fake the fucking plague.”

Ka Koubun flinched before his scowl grew even deeper. “Then why don’t you try making her feel better? You’re obviously successful at that aren’t you?”

He had prepared another insult before he had even finished processing the eunuch’s, but as he readied to cast it like a spell, he was struck by the pettiness of it all. It wasn’t as if respectability ever meant much to him, but god were they old. The little vanity he still held had to admit it hardly looked any good on them.

“Have you taken her breakfast yet?” Without thinking, Judal scraped his leftovers onto a clean plate. “Might as well be useful if I’m annoying.”

His bluster managed to carry him out, but as he approached Gyoku’s room, his sails began to lose their wind. So far Xiaoshi had been completely predictable. The eunuch was a pain in the ass, and the kid was terrifying in her normalcy. But there was no predicting what Gyoku would be like. Back at Rakushou she had been uncertain yet blindingly determined. If someone had told him she would later become a simple farmer in the middle of absolutely nowhere, he would have laughed in their faces. Yet could she have changed even more drastically since then? And even if she hadn’t, did she only want him around so she could work up the strength to tear him limb from limb?

Judal shook his head. Questions were useless if you weren’t willing to face their answers. Before he could lose his nerve, Judal knocked on her door.

“Come in,” A quiet voice wisped. And so Judal took a deep breath and did as he was ordered to.

He didn’t know what he was expecting when he entered, but it hadn’t been for the sight to be so familiar. Her room still managed to be somehow bare yet disorganized and cluttered. In the middle of the mess laid Gyoku on her sleeping mat.

“Judal...” As she sat up, her blanket fell back to reveal some things had changed. There was a round softness to her body after having to bear the weight of a child. He didn’t know why he focused on that. Maybe so he didn’t have to look her in the eye.

“Yeah it’s me...” He ran a hand through his braid. “Did the eunuch not deliver the news?”

Silence suffocated the room. He must have lost his tolerance for pain because for some reason he thought looking at her might make things easier. Bad decision. That sad, soft pink managed to hook its talons into his heart and refused to let him look away once their gazes met.

It probably wasn’t the best decision, but if he couldn’t look away he wanted to at least see less of her. He approached her without speaking, until they were face to face. Striking distance, idly he thought. But Gyoku just continued to stare and stare at him, as if she had forgotten how to do anything but that.

“Your hair’s a rat’s mess.” Probably not the best comment to make, but it helped him break eye contact and focus on her unruly tangles. “Do you want me to do something about that?”

He waited for an answer but wasn’t surprised when nothing came. Still he needed some sort of motion to break up his restless energy, so he grabbed her comb and sat next to her all the same.

Tentatively he brushed it through her locks.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry,” From this angle she couldn’t see him, but he ducked his head all the same. “I’ll be more gentle.” Slowly he pulled apart a nasty knot with his hands. After years of keeping his hair neat and presentable, maybe even he could do more than mess this up.

“I’ve done a lot of traveling lately.” The irony didn’t escape him, but those words seemed less crude than the full truth. “You should see Balbadd now, can barely recognize the place anymore.” It wasn’t like him to chatter away, but it was something to fill the room with. The lesser of two evils.

“Your old fiance managed to turn into a somewhat respectable king. Has two little pups with the Fanalis bitch that used to trail behind him. Might be cute if the perfection of it all wasn’t so sickening.” He rambled on like that--telling all he knew of their old friends and foes, of the weird mishaps he got into on the road. He wasn’t sure if she was even listening to it all, but he told those stories for himself first and foremost.

He didn’t mention his third and final trip to a destroyed village that had never been his home.

When he was finished with her hair, he got up to leave, but before he could take even a single step, Gyoku grabbed his hand.

“Judal...” She drew in a deep breath, as if it was taking all her effort to mutter those two syllables. “...I don’t forgive you.”

Even without the influence of magic, her words still felt as cold as Vinea’s iciest of waters. “What reason should you?” He tried to brush her words off, but he was sure if he looked at her again this time he would never be able to move again. Time to be serious for once in his life.

“Look, I don’t care to pretend I’m redeemed or any of that bullshit. Just want to take responsibility for the mess I made for you. Do you want my help?”

He waited for an answer once more, and it seemed even less likely to come. Maybe that is how she would enact her revenge--leave him waiting here until he withered away into nothing but dust and bone. And through it all she’d probably stare without blinking once.

But if that was her plan, she must have decided to save it for later, because eventually Gyoku spoke.

“You can stay.” It wasn’t a complete yes, but it definitely wasn’t a no.

Maybe that was the best they could do for now.

Life in Xiaoshi proceeded from then on, but something about it never felt real.

For one thing, the following day Gyoku was up and running chores. The fact that no one commented that she had been cocooned in a pile of blankets for the past few days would have stood out to him, but soon that observation was eclipsed by an even greater one.

Nobody seemed to react to his presence either.

It wasn’t as if he was a ghost, he was given chores to do and acknowledged and spoken to (although glaringly Ka Koubun never left him alone with the child after that first morning). No it was more subtle than that. They treated him as if he had never left, as if three years hadn’t passed between them.

Well that wasn’t true either. Gyoku didn’t seek him out at night nor scream his name in a fit or whisper it like a love-song. It was back to before they had even knew Xiaoshi existed--when the demon child and whore’s daughter had grown up and were trying to be Kou’s sacred oracle and precious 8th princess. Back then he had welcomed the change, had probably been the first to temper their relationship into something cold and professional in search of people like Hakuryuu. He hadn't needed a sad, lonely girl, just someone who could offer him the power to free himself and burn down the system that had so mistreated him. But here in the middle of nowhere, he couldn’t take Gyoku’s bland greeting and neutral stares.

Tell me how I hurt you. Cry, rage, just don’t act as if I mean nothing to you.

He didn’t know he had cared when during those early Xiaoshi years she had been the one chasing after him. Maybe it was his ego. A monster liked to know they were still feared. And oh he hadn’t felt like one in such a long time. On the road you’re just another face. He had never experienced anonymity before. It was so freeing it made his head spin, and he had thought there would be no greater joy than to die in a forgotten grave.

But then Balbadd had changed everything. It’s funny, that was where he had first remembered Gyoku existed since becoming oracle. In the same streets where she had saved his life, he saw dear old idiot Alibaba wave around his newborn daughter for the world to see. He had been just another face in the crowd, probably wasn’t even noticed by him, yet something about the parade seemed to scream, “Isn’t there some place you belong?” Call it whatever you like, the voice of the rukh or delayed guilt, but those words had stuck with him even after he had left town. Without much thought he followed their call until it took him back to Xiaoshi.

But what was the point in sticking around if that wasn’t the case?

He gave it a month. A month to see if there was any room for him in that little house anymore, if Gyoku would give him the decency of disdain, if the eunuch would grow some balls and kill him like he wanted to, if the girl would ever elicit any emotion from him besides plain old fear.

Things didn’t change. So that morning he packed his stuff and left.

He didn’t even make it out the backyard before Gyoku was screaming her banshee scream and chasing after him.

“Bastard!” He had barely any time to process the insult before she tackled him face first in the snow. “You don’t get to just show up again and then pull the same shit!” She shoved his head further into the ground, her grip against his scalp so tight he wondered if her nails would draw blood.

Hmm, maybe it would be her instead that killed him. It was a dangerous thing to do, yet he couldn’t help but laugh at the thought.

Gyoku’s confusion at his reaction gave him enough breath to choke out a few words.

“Nice to be in your thoughts so early in the morning, princess.”

She grew still at that. From the sound of footsteps, he gather that their kerfuffle must have awaken the others. He counted his breaths quietly and once he reached ten, Gyoku got off him and helped him up.

A sarcastic grin tugged at his lips. There was that endearing softness she had never grown out of. Even in her worst rages, she had always been too good to completely lose control.

The smirk got knocked off his face when her right hook sent him back sprawling against the ground.

“You don’t get to joke at a time like this. You don’t get to call me, 'princess.' And you certainly don’t get to leave right after I got used to having you around.” There was Vinea’s ice again. No, if she could summon it twice, then it must be her own now. Still this time the chill didn’t last because slowly tears melted against her eyelashes. “You don’t get to live in our doorway, half-in, half-out. If you’re going to go then you must leave for good. I told myself I wasn’t going to depend on you anymore.”

It’s funny, that those tears brought him so much relief. At the same time he wanted to wipe them away so bad, yet he knew that would probably earn him another punch. In a sorta compromise, he played with the fabric of her sleeping robe.

“Was just taking a morning walk.”

“Liar,” There was no venom in her voice, just truth. “Make your decision now, but I have a family to look after.” She lacked the fine silks of her old life, yet she had never looked so regal before, baby fat and all.

As if he was the eunuch himself, Judal couldn’t help but stand up and trail three steps behind her back to the house.

As they moved into spring, they slowly but surely reached a sort of homeostasis. For the most part they went through life in the same quiet manner. There were no more beat-downs, no more solitary walks, just preparing the fields and getting through another domestic day. Still now Gyoku and him had landed somewhere between the distance and closeness they had oscillated between. Some days they would simply live and work beside each other nothing more, but the barrier didn’t feel so forced because she was just as likely to spend an evening with him playing card games and chatting about nonsense. It was strange and unfamiliar, but not unwelcome.

“You have such an obvious tell. When you twirl your braid around your finger like that, I just know I have you!”

“Like you’re much better. Your poker face is so weak I’m sure a blind man could read it”

“You know those first few weeks what I missed the most about you was the sex.”

“Eh it was only a distraction for me. Haven’t fucked anyone else you know.”

“Hey don’t think I don’t see you sneaking that card under the table!”

“As if I don’t see the way you scrape your nails against each card before choosing one. You have your tricks and I have mine.”

“I think what hurt the most about you leaving was the embarrassment of it all. I thought you would change and then you left me at my weakest.”

“I had thought I had changed too. But I guess I’m my most evil when I’m at my weakest.”

“King’s Court, I win!”

“Bullshit!”

They didn’t have their old post coitus heart to hearts anymore, never even touched each other anymore. He could only pick up those blunt truths when she deemed to drop them. Gyoku had changed. There was still that same bluster to try and do things right, act as if she was perfectly fine, but it no longer felt so desperate and pleading. She tried to move the stars for no one’s benefit but her own and she would do it whether he liked it or not.

It wasn’t what the selfish beast inside of him wanted, for her to be the pitiful, predictable princess of yesteryears, worried about upsetting him. But more of him could work with it.

Farmwork begun up again, and as they worked side by side, they truly felt like equals for the first time since they had been children. Maybe he had caught her discarded nostalgia, but he didn’t think it hurt too much to savor it when he could.

You can’t hold onto to anger forever.

In another world, it would have been enough. Even if Ka Koubun hated him for the rest of time, navigating a normal life within an abnormal household would have been a fine enough purgatory to land in. Hell, for all the crimes he had committed, it would be a far better fate than he deserved. There was just one mistake holding him back from his content ending. The girl.

He hadn’t been able to avoid her, as much as it seemed to annoy the eunuch, but to say he had really spent time with her was an exaggeration. They existed in similar spaces together. She would mutter quiet “thank you’s” whenever he passed her food during dinner and he’d return a gruff “you’re welcome” as he searched for somewhere else to look besides her face. In theory she knew his name, but despite her question back during that snowy first meeting, he didn’t know what it meant to her. If she saw him as either a terrible demon or a returned god, she didn’t show it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be either of those things, but the fact she already had some preconceived notion of him before he even appeared before her eyes wore on his nerves.

He tried asking Gyoku about it once. It was most likely that she had been the one to bring him up to Taohua in the first place. However, she had skirted the issue with a less than subtle hand.

“You could always talk to her about it.”

“You think a child would be better at explaining things than you are?”

“Maybe not about about everything, but Taohua would know herself the best. It shouldn’t be hard to get her talking, she’s a chatter-box,” Her robe slipped off her shoulder as she wiped the sweat from her brow. He stole a few glances at the scrap of peach skin before going back to work. The summer sun was hot. He didn’t need Gyoku getting self-conscious and wrapping herself up in a bundle of layers. That would only make the work take a lot longer, he told himself.

“It’s your decision to claim her or not, but I will not lie to her about her parentage.” Gyoku’s response was so unexpected, he almost missed it. “My father was just a name. I wanted to give Taohua more than that. I thought you would feel the same.”

Decades old jealousy stirs at her words. Even a name was more than he had. Al-Thamen had deemed things like a heritage and family to be ill-suited for a tool. Hell, even his own name had only been chosen to erase any trace his parents might have left on him. It would take an unusual amount of cruelty even for him to wish that fate on anyone.

Still he didn’t know if his presence would be much better. Even without a father, the girl had two parents in Gyoku and the eunuch. Were they perfect, of course not--years living with them had exposed all their deepest darkest flaws. But they loved her, and that was a gift Judal doubted any of the three of them had ever had.

He wasn’t sure if he could love her though--or if his love would bring anything but disaster. Just look at how it had ruined Gyoku. He thought that he would try to make due with the current status quo. He’d let those red eyes haunt him in exchange for a roof over his head and something like forgiveness.

But then something in the rukh shifted.

Even after losing his command over them, Judal had never lost his ability to see the rukh. It had been a cruel joke, salt on a wound that refused to heal, but slowly he had learned to live with it. Even if their sight sometimes gave him phantom pains in limbs he hadn’t technically lost, he got better at managing the aches. It had been his only option between that or letting the loss consume him, and well somehow he was still here. One of Xiaoshi’s few blessings was that its rukh were quiet and listless. They were rarely ever riled up, so it was easy enough for him to let them fade into the background.

But as he was returning to the house after a full-day’s work, he saw the rukh fly and race like he hadn’t seen in years. Without thinking, he followed them, frantic and half-wild.

Their trail ended in Taohua’s room, where she sat playing with her dolls. She looked up at him, completely confused as if she hadn’t just put together a spell that was only one or two rukh combinations away from freezing the entire house.

“What--” Judal took a deep breath. “--the actual fuck!”

The girl looked as if she was about to cry. With her concentration thoroughly broken, the spell fell apart into harmless individual rukh. Relief flooded his veins, but before he could enjoy it fully, a new problem was upon him.

“Ka!” The girl pushed past him. When Judal turned around he found the eunuch cradling her against his legs as he brandished a kitchen knife.

“What are you doing?” His words were just as sharp as the weapon in his hand.

“What are you doing pointing that thing at me?” After the years of contempt and disdain Judal had suffered from him, his tolerance was worn raw.

“You’re the one I found in an upset child’s room. You do the explaining.”

“God, what delusion did you come up with? That I’d try to eat her or something?”

“I’m gonna give you until the count of three. One--”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

“Two--”

“She was using magic, goddamnit!” Judal gripped Ka Koubun’s shoulders. “Does your pea-sized brain have any idea of what that means?”

After all his big talk, he seemed to forgot all about the knife in his hand. Bewildered golden brown eyes stared into red. “What? But she’s so young? Were you teaching--”

“If I was teaching her, then why would I be so surprised?” Slowly Judal let go of him. The wheels in his head were spinning at top speeds. If he’s going to be able to convince him of the necessary action they must take, he must appear calm.

Now free, the eunuch was preoccupying himself with the child. “Taohua, what were you doing?” He stroked her head in a comforting manner, but Judal couldn’t tell who it was supposed to comfort.

“Playing,” She muttered, still twirling the doll in her hands.

“What were you thinking about?”

“Kazue needed a new dress--” She wouldn’t look him in the eye. “--and I was hot.”

The eunuch closed his eyes and sighed. He seemed just as pissed as before, but thankfully he put the knife away and turned to address Judal.

“Is she a magi? Like you?”

“Don’t know,” Judal shrugged. He racked his brain for any information Al-Thamen had gathered about the children of magi. It had always been a rare occasion, but in theory there were only supposed to be three of them at a time in the world. You couldn’t just breed an army of them. Still the brat magi had messed things up and bumped the number up to four. No reason the rules couldn’t be broken again. Besides maybe since he lost his magic, he was dead to the rukh. “What I do know is that she needs training.”

The eunuch stiffened. “I will not let her be made a weapon.”

“Do you think I want her to have to suffer what I went through?!” Judal was holding his temper in check by the skin of his teeth. The only thing that was keeping him from fully exploding was the fact that doing so would hurt more people than just the eunuch.

And he was so tired of innocents getting caught in the crossfire.

“Look, I can teach her the basics of the rukh, what it feels like to channel them and how to properly guide their course. It’s better she knows what she is capable of so she can control it.” Judal clenched his fists. “So she doesn’t become me.”

Ka Koubun studied him with those distrustful eyes. But before he could speak, Taohua waddled over to Judal.

“You see the butterflies too?”

By the end of the month, they fell into a routine. Once a week, Judal would sit down with Taohua to teach her a different aspect of the rukh. In theory the lessons were only supposed to be theoretical, but sometimes he would slip in a spell or two when no one else was around--like how to ease the pain of a bruise or produce a light. Such a move might make the eunuch pull out the knife on him again, but he had a rational reason for once in his lifetime.

It gave him a chance to observe the child and see what she would do with the material she was given. If when given power her baby fat and pudgy hands would melt away to reveal a monster beyond imagination.

And as autumn fell, he pulled together all the information he had gathered, and judged.

The child was perfectly normal. Sweet and energetic, but flighty and stubborn at times. She really did chatter away any spare moments of silence she came across as Gyoku said. She didn’t like being told what to do, but hated to see others upset. She loved to use ice magic, just like him when he was younger, and laughed and laughed and laughed without a single ounce of shame.

And with every smile of hers, a bit of the fear faded away.

Judal was just getting used to things when Gyoku had another episode.

The eunuch and child didn’t seem at all surprised by it, going about their routine as usual, but for Judal all the regrets and worries of winter returned full-force.

Your presence is a poison. Go before the child catches it. It doesn’t matter how much you try to change, you will always be a monster.

But for some reason he didn’t run, and the next day Gyoku came out after lunch to sit next to him and bask in the sunlight. They didn’t speak for a long time, just watched the day pass by in one peaceful breath and out the next. Despite the pleasant atmosphere, dark clouds in the distant signaled that a cold front was on its way. While such weather was normal around this time of year, it still unnerved him all the same.

Will you still be tolerated after they are forced to see the real you?

“Will you comb my hair?” Gyoku’s words were such a surprise, Judal did a double-take to make sure he wasn’t imagining them. While her gaze was trained firmly on the horizon, there was a certain tautness to her shoulders that seemed to demand she be acknowledged. “I’m so tired...but you always look so good no matter what. I figured you would do a better job than me.”

Judal took a deep breath. “Sure, no problem.”

Carefully he brushed through her red locks. He was almost certain he’d end up pulling too hard at some point, perhaps accidentally rip out a chunk of hair, but as they fell into a rhythm, Gyoku gave a content sigh.

Perhaps she is lying and--

“I thought I was doing so good--” Gyoku’s voice brought him back down to the real world. “--but I guess the cold always brings the voices out.”

“I didn’t know what I would find when I returned.” Judal spoke slowly, feeling around for the right response. “In the back of my mind I always wondered if you might give up on living.” He was glad she hadn’t, but such affection felt dangerous in this no-man’s land they cohabited.

“Oh I thought about it a lot--” Gyoku gave a sad laugh, “--but funny enough it was you who kept me going.”

Judal held his breath as he waited. For what, he couldn’t say: maybe another verbal slap across the face, another cruel damnation. But what followed instead was much more tender.

“I had this dream about you a few years ago,” Like a nervous child, Gyoku fiddled with the fabric of her robe. “The peach trees were in bloom, and we just sat under them--together. Sometimes neither of us said a word, and sometimes I would yell horrible things at you, but you were silent most of the time.”

Judal’s grip on the comb grew tighter. Somehow this was a crueler choice. Self-flagellation was becoming his bread and butter, but if she was going where she seemed to be...

“Dreams are just dreams,” Judal muttered.

“Maybe, but in the last one, you told me that if I wanted happiness, I should go ahead and just grab it.” A light blush dusted her cheeks. “Even if it was just a figment of my imagination...it really meant a lot to me.”

Judal screwed his mouth shut. He didn’t trust his tongue at the moment. It was a stupid, sentimental creature that would only hurt her more in the long run.

“I remember those dreams as well...”

“Done with your hair,” Is what he said instead.

Gyoku turned around to look him in the eye. The fading sunlight gave her a gentle elegance. She looked nothing like her past self--all done up in elaborate hairstyles and fine silks. Still with the way she let her long hair flow freely past her shoulders, she looked more mature and at peace with herself than ever before.

“I’ve told you this before, but I will say it again: I promised to never depend on you again. I don’t want to tie my happiness to someone who has hurt me. Still--” She looked up at him through soft eyelashes. “--have you ever considered starting over? Trying things out again?”

“I always thought I would be dead by now.” Judal blurted out. It was a non-answer, but when had they found the time to grow up? He wasn’t used to second chances. Wasn’t used to imagining a future for himself that didn’t end with him alone and dead in a ditch.

He should have remembered he was a monster. He should have ran right then and there and forgotten everything about Xiaoshi. Instead he grabbed her hands in his and brought them to his chest.

“Is this what you were thinking of?” He waited for her disapproval, that his hands were too rough, his grip was too tight. But Gyoku only smiled at him sweetly.

“It’s just what I wanted.”

A.N. Another year wait between chapters, I guess I pulled a Judal, I feel I’ve grown and changed as much as the characters have so it took a while to fall back into them (especially to find Judal’s voice again after how long it had been) but I hope to have finally brought some catharsis

#jukou #judal #ren kougyoku #magi #my lame writing #rp #otp: I'm not an angel #arabian nights plus tears #in which the in-universe timeframe is starting to match that of this fic

16 notes · View notes

miraclejune · 6 years ago

Text

Mismatched

For the first time in many months, it’s raining outside. Summer dwindled around the corner and slowly, the winter season crept in. The pitter-patter of raindrops painted the dry ground. The sky turned dark and eventually the streets of Seoul became deserted. The usual busy road was long gone in no time. The one thing all foreigners agree with is that Koreans hate the rain, they will do anything just to avoid it.

Walking on the damp road, I made my way to Gangdong district. Phone on my left hand and umbrella on the other. I took careful steps, at the same time looking at the map displayed on my phone. Just another block away. Knowing where I’m headed, I slowly slip my phone on my coat pocket making sure it was safe and dry. I adjusted my heavy backpack and gained pace.

Momentarily, my feet stopped, I moved my umbrella away from my view. revealing a tall building. My eyes trailed upwards the never ending tower. I sighed and made my way inside. The guard greeted me with a smile, and led me inside. I thanked him and closed my umbrella, placing it on the rack near the entrance. Two secretaries welcomed me in the front desk, again with a bow I greeted them. I’m not really a smiley-kind of person. “Do you have an appointment, miss?” she asked, looking up to me and to her computer. I nodded. “With whom?”

“Um, a certain Mr. Kim Jae Hoon.” my Korean was a bit poor but she understood and told me to wait. Her hand reached out for the phone. My eyes scanned the place, wow. This is such a nice building. It looks new and fresh. My attention was caught by the call of the secretary, “He’ll be seeing you now, miss---” her voice trailed off, clearly waiting for me to say my name. I rummaged for my I.D. inside my coat and lend it to her. She took it with two hands and typed in my information on her computer.

Tapping my hand on my sides, I waited impatiently. I’m not really a people person, but because of my line of work I have to suck it up and work with others. I looked over the secretary who was clearly having a hard time typing in my name because it was long and is in English. Upon clearing my throat she looked at me and apologized, “I can do it” she bowed again and apologized, removing herself from the chair. I circled around the desk, not bothering to sit down. After typing in my contact information, I went back in front of the desk with my I.D. clutched on my hand. “Sorry again. He’s on the 11th floor, the elevator is just up ahead. Thank you.” she bowed again and moved her hand to the direction I should be going.

The elevator doors opened, revealing a few employees who got off. They were loud. I stepped aside, giving them room to walk out and entered the elevator alone. As the doors slowly secured shut, I heaved a deep sigh. “I should’ve picked a different career.. This job is energy-draining.” I was rambling, almost forgetting to press the 11th floor button. The trip was short, seems like no one else was going up.

A ‘ding’ indicated that I have arrived. I waited for the doors to open and went on my way. On cue, I cursed under my breath. “Fuck, I left so suddenly and didn’t even asked where the office was.” I sighed in frustration and paced to the nearest door. There’s no point in going back and asking. I can find it on my own. I checked every door, and with luck the 4th one was labeled “Production Design Office” Knocking on the glass door twice, I gradually opened the door. It was an average sized room with a few desks here and there. The scene was familiar, this is the same as my office. All cluttered and messy. Everyone was so busy, no one batted an eye in my direction. My head scanned the room, I just stood there. Not really wanting to talk to anyone, but the thought of losing my job pushed me to walk towards the nearest person. “Excuse me,” the guy looked at me at once. Eyes widening, he stood up and bowed. “I’m sorry! I didn’t hear your knock!!” still bowing, he apologized loudly, gaining the attention of everyone else. They all apologized in unison and went back to work. Okay? He straightened his posture, I bowed reassuring him it was fine. He gave me a toothy grin and asked me to sit down.

“You’re here for Mr. Jae Hoon, right?” with a flirty grin he asked. Trying my best not to gag, I nodded my head. His smile faltered with the cold response he received. His eyes moved to the screen of his computer, typing in some stuff. “JAE!! THE ARTIST IT HERE!!!” I recoiled a little with his sudden shout. Looking around the room, no one seemed to mind.

A tall, fit guy made his way through the clutter of people and work. He adjusted his glasses and greeted me with a bow before ushering me towards a meeting room. As soon as he closed the glass door, the noise from outside was muffled. Waiting for him to sit down, I made my way around the small table. “O-oh, please sit down.” scratching his head, he awkwardly gestured me to sit down. Before doing so, I placed my laptop in my bag. He sat down beside me.

“Your company told us you have a hard time speaking Korean as of now,” he smiled. I nodded and rummaged through my bag. I pulled out my laptop and signalled him to continue. “O-oh.. so are we starting now? Can you understand?” after inputting my password, I faced him. “I’ll try my best.” he chuckled, giving him a puzzled look, he looked at me and spoke in English.

“They asked me to entertain you because I’m the only one who can speak English here,” his pronunciation was on point and his voice sounded sincere. I almost broke out a smile. “Ah.” that was all I can say. He smiled and asked me to proceed. An hour went by as I was presenting the illustrations and rough sketches to him, a girl went in and gave us coffee. Feeling a little bad, I still spoke up and told her I don’t drink coffee. She was taken aback, gaining composure she apologized and told me she’ll get a different drink. With her insisting tone, I cannot argue. She left and we continued with the work.

“So, the animation---Thank you Junhee---as I was saying the animation will be finished by the end of this month?” talking on a more serious tone, he stopped mid-sentence to thank the girl who gave us coffee and went back to the topic. I nodded. “The rough animation will be finished by the end of this month. But the final output would probably take 2 or 3 months.” his eyebrows furrowed. “That long?” he paused for a while. Not knowing what to say, I cleared my throat and explained. “Yes, since I work alone.” his tired eyes found mine. I didn’t break eye contact. “What do you mean? Aren’t you in a team?” he leaned back his chair, arms crossing against his stomach as he did so. Again, I nodded.

He hummed, continuing to scan me with his eyes. I shifted around my seat, i really don’t like when people observe me. It’s frustrating. “Let me get this straight--” one more time he adjusted his position, now elbows against his knees as he leaned forward. “You work at K*S as one of their resident graphic designer and illustrator, but you prefer to work alone rather than work with a couple more artists?” his interrogation was spot on. I nodded again, trying to prove a point. He chuckled. I gave him a puzzled look, “Huh, you’re a weird one.” after a while his chuckle subsided and the stood up. Looking down on me, he gave me a smile and held out his right hand. I stood up and shook it. “Okay, Ms. Yanaihara. We will give you a month for the draft. And then we talk about the final output once it’s finished, okay?”

“Yes, Sir.” his hand went back to his side and I began packing my stuff. “I’ll leave you here for a while, and when you’re done packing. Meet me outside the office, okay?” I faced him again and gave a bow as a response. He smiled and trailed off. As the door closed shut, I slumped onto the chair. Man, we talked for almost 3 hours. He’s one intricate person, he may not look like it but he was dedicated to his job. That made me want to work harder on this project.

As I stepped out the meeting room, the same derangement of the office greeted me. With a bow, I thanked the guy who entertained me earlier. He gave me a thumbs up and a smile. I walked out the room and saw Jae Hoon. I bowed at him. He asked me if I was all set, I nodded. He led us to the elevator, pressing the number 4 as the metal doors closed.

I have no idea where we’re headed.

“Oh, we’re gonna meet the people you’re gonna be animating.” he found the confusion in my face and answered my unasked question. “Ah.” the project brief was all about animating a certain group for the fans to see. It sort of like a gift to them. The company said they would just send me the video of them dancing. I agreed since it was so much better than meeting them in person. But, here I am… headed towards the subjects.

We stopped in front of a huge picture of Michael Jackson pasted on the wall, huh. This is one artistic company. He turned around, facing me. “Fair warning, these boys can be really loud and well---” he scratched his nape and laughed. “They get shy all of a sudden so, I hope you understand.” I nodded. Ugh, this is gonna be a burden again. I hate meeting new people, especially when if they’re A LOT. Suddenly he turned around again and faced me. “How old are you?” a bit flustered by the sudden personal question, I gaped at him before composing myself and responding. “I’m 20.” his eyes widened. “You’re only 20!?” his mouth was now agape. I nodded. “Yes, I was born on 1999.” he gasped again.

“You look mature for your age, you even act mature.” not really knowing how to respond to his statement, I just said thanks, awkwardly. He smiled. “That’s a good thing, these boys are around your age---how are you 20 and working already, are you even a college graduate?” I felt a bit offended by him questioning my credentials, but I get where he was coming from. I graduated University at a very early age. “Yes, I graduated last September.” again he was surprised, he kept on rambling about how am I so good at my job with only just being here for 2 months. I just responded in short words. Tapping my feet impatiently against the marble floor. He finished ranting and is now about to open the door.

I don’t want to admit it but I was nervous, this happens when I’m about to see a lot of unfamiliar faces. The familiar loud music echoed around the room. With a glance, I noticed it was a dance practice room. Mirrors fogged up with sweat. “Boys.” covered by his big physique, I continued to hide behind him. Upon hearing his voice, the music stopped abruptly and I could hear pants and gasps. “Hello, Sir!” the loud unison of voices drummed against my ear. Oh crap, that’s a lot of boys right there. I moved aside, showing myself. My straight face unfazed by the familiar faces in front me. All of their eyes moved towards me, “This,” with a swift move they all looked at him. But one particular person continued to eye me from time to time. “Is the artist, who is gonna be making your promotional animation for the fans.” he continued to explain why I was there. “Jeongin-ah, pay attention please.” the one person who was unconsciously looking at me, bowed his head and apologized. One of the members patted his back. “Okay, so is everything clear now?” they all shouted again in unison. I flinched a bit but my stoic face remained the same.

“So, maybe let’s start by cleaning up a bit? This place… has a manly smell.” he chuckled. I could agree with that. And with the amount of sweat on the mirrors and the members, i could tell they were here for a while now. They’re flustered faces made me smile a bit. They panicked and raced around the room. I spoke up, catching both the attention of the 9 members and Jae Hoon. “It’s cool, I’m okay with it. Let’s just get it over with.” Jae Hoon smiled at me, “Okay, never mind.”

“But, Sir---”

“It’s fine. I have 4 brothers. I’m used to this smell, no worries.” I cut off one of them. He looked at me with a flustered face, our eyes met and he broke the contact within seconds. I moved towards them. “I guess I’ll be heading out. Are you okay walking out yourself, Ms. Yanaihara?” I faced him and nodded. He smiled, and bid me plus the boys goodbye. The members shouted again.

Door creaked closed, and I was alone in this room with 9 recognizable faces. There was an awkward amount of silence before I spoke up. “So, for now, I’m gonna be making character designs of yourself.” we all stood there, 9 pair of eyes glued to mine. “Um, can we sit down first?”

“O-oh. But the floor is a bit dirty---”

“It’s cool.” I shrugged and proceeded to sit down the wooden floor. All of them hesitated for a bit but eventually one by one they all sat down. I pulled out an A4 sized sketchbook from my backpack, flipping through the already crowded pages.

“Okay--” I looked up and all of them were still looking at me. I sighed. “Sorry, about my Korean. It’s not my first language--” two of the members looked at each other eagerly and then back at me. Yes, I know you both speak English.With the familiar heavy atmosphere, I licked my dry lips and spoke. “Let’s talk about the elephant in the room since that’s what you all notice,” all nine of them were taken aback, denials here and there. I held up my hand to shush then.

“It’s fine.” I looked at Jeongin. Our eyes met and his gaze faltered. I brought up my finger to my cheeks, pointing on each eye. “I have heterochromia, which means I have different colored eyes. They change colors from time to time also.” they all nodded in awe. I brought my hand back down and continued to flip through my sketchbook until a blank canvas appears. Okay, it’s time to explain. I really hate this.

“First off, what kind of style do you guys want? You can talk about it as a group.” they all murmured and talked to each other. My head scanned the whole room. This place, I have seen it a hundred times before. This same place where I laughed and got all excited about. Not in person, just through the screen of my computer. My eyes landed on the foggy part of the mirrors, there were doodles. I smiled at the sight. They still do it.

One particular writing piqued my interest. “You make Stray Kids Stay, wow.. I miss that.” unaware I said that aloud. The room went quiet. I looked at each one of them taking in all the familiar features I have yearned to see in person, I can’t help but give a genuine smile. “You guys really did became the next big thing.”

About a year ago, I have encountered the most amazing group. They were 9 dorks who are very talented. They produced their own music, write their own lyrics and even make their own choreography at such a young age. Seeing those smiles and laughter for about a year, I have learned to love them. I don’t like them just because of their visuals or just because they’re famous.

I fell in love with each one of them. I fell in love with their music the most. They made wonderful, encouraging music that helped not only me, but a lot of fans out there who struggled in life.

“You’re a fan?” Bangchan’s voice echoed inside my head. My heart drummed faster but I remained calm and smiled at him. “I was.” I closed my eyes and sighed with a smile, remembering all the memories I had with them through the small screen of my laptop and phone. “Alright. Let’s start?”

For the next 30 minutes, they tried their best to explain what they wanted. Chan and Felix also translated a few words I didn’t know. I wrote down all the concepts they wanted to try and told them to eliminate a few things they don’t like. Handing over my sketchbook, they all huddled in a small pile and talked amongst each other. My eyes looked at each one of them dearly. I was a fan, but I lost track with them after entering my last term in University. And well, I just completely forgotten about them.

After deliberating for a while, they handed me back the sketchpad and told the final concept they wanted. I nodded and started sketching. They waited. Glancing at everyone. “Minho, can you stand up?” he pointed at himself. I nodded and stood up first. He followed and awkwardly stood in the middle. “Just stay still, don’t---” I gripped his awkward shoulders. “Don’t tense up. Do it comfortably.” he nodded and loosened up. I picked up my sketchbook and pen and started drawing a him in different angles. The rest of the members stayed quiet beside us, gingerly observing me walking around Minho.

“Oh, my distinct features---” I stopped him mid sentence. “No need,” I gave him a smile, he blushed. “I know what they are.” and again the room went quiet. Only the scribbles of my pencil against the paper was heard. “You’re eyelashes are really long, and your nose shape is perfect.” my compliment made him blush more. The boys behind me started to tease him. We finished up after 2 hours. Each of the members getting more comfortable around me. This was actually the first time I talked a lot.

“Can you smile for me Jeongin?” he did, I smiled and closed my sketchbook. His puzzled look made all of us burst into laughter. “I just wanted to see your smile. It’s really different without the braces but, you’re still adorable.” he made an inaudible sound and went straight into Hyunjin’s arms. I chuckled.

I handed them the sketchbook so they could check the designs. They all gathered standing up. Exclamations here and there. I smiled and began packing the rest of my stuff. I sat down near the side, resting my back and head against the mirror. On the contrary of not liking being observed, I really like observing other people. Memorizing how they laugh, how they move their hands and all their mannerisms.

While the others scanned through my drawings, Bangchan approached me. I smiled at him, which earned me a smile in return. He plopped down beside me, shoulders touching. We remained there, watching his members laugh and have fun.

“You’re one lucky guy, Chris.” I said in English, the sudden name attack made his head snap towards me. I shifted my head to look at him, he turned red and hid his face on his hands. “What?” I chuckled. He whined and removed his hands before looking at me. “I’m not used to people calling me Chris.”

“But you are Chris, right?” he shuddered at the words. He bit his lips. “Fuck…” a curse left his mouth. I chuckled and punched his shoulder jokingly. The others started to notice us, so I stood up. But before leaving his side I said, “Am I not your baby girl? Christopher Bang.” winking at him, I went to the others and received back my sketchpad. Noticing Chan’s gaze burning in my back.

#straykids #skz #bangchan #jeongin #jyp #kpop #stray kids au #woojin #changbin #stray kids #jisung #lee know #felix #seungmin #hyunjin

19 notes · View notes

dragonologist-phd · 6 years ago

Text

That’s The Spirit!

Wrote a fun modern AU for my Watchers Desta and Rudi in honor of the upcoming holiday and the @pillarspromptsweekly prompt: Spooky. It’s not actually spooky at all, but since one of my favorite Halloween activities is binge-watching Buzzfeed Unsolved, I thought I’d give my Watchers their own kind-of-a-crossover ghost-hunting fun. (Also here on AO3)

“This has got to be the stupidest thing we have ever done.”

“This is far from the stupidest thing we’ve ever done.”

Rudi turned and raised an eyebrow at Desta. “What I mean,” Desta clarified, “is that this is not stupid. Kana knows what he’s talking about.”

“I’m not worried about whether Kana got the history right, I’m worried about the police showing up and arresting us. Especially since we’re about to take video of us breaking in and then post it on the internet. I define that as pretty stupid.”

“It’s not breaking in if nobody lives here!” Desta dropped her voice an octave and said in a low, spooky tone, “But just because nobody lives here doesn’t mean it’s empty.”

Rudi looked like she wanted to argue but wasn’t sure which point to start with. Desta took advantage of her hesitation and turned to face the camera. “Ready?”

“One moment,” Aloth said, fiddling with the controls. Rudi shook her head in resignation and positioned herself next to Desta. Desta wasn’t fooled; for all of Rudi’s griping and eye-rolling, she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want to be. Desta doubted there was anyone, alive or dead, that could make Rudi do something she didn’t want to do.

Case in point- even though she was tapping her foot impatiently, Rudi couldn’t hide the smile on her face as she surveyed the insides of the old mansion. The building was old, one of the oldest in town, and poorly cared for. Old, mismatched furniture littered the rooms and hallways, creating a cluttered maze-like environment caked in at least an inch of dust. Every now and then, a gust of wind would sneak through the holes in the roof or the cracked windows, sending a chill down Desta’s spine.

She wondered if Rudi felt the same strange chill. She must, because she kept pulling her thick red flannel tighter around herself, although she would probably say that was just the weather. But Aloth didn’t seem bothered; he wasn’t even wearing a jacket. Desta found it a little distracting, to be honest, but she also took it as a sign that perhaps the spirits were more focused on the two ghost-hunters. Perhaps tonight the they would finally reveal themselves. It was Halloween, after all- what better timing could there be?

“You know, if we wanted to,” Rudi said as her dark eyes swept over their surroundings, “we could set up a pretty sweet haunted house in here. We could actually make money and scare people, for a change.”

Desta threw her arms out, exasperated. “We’re in a literal haunted mansion. There are real ghosts here. How is this not better than bad acting and fake blood?”

“Bad acting and fake blood is entertaining. The ‘real ghosts’ you think are there when you’re yelling at nothing…” Rudi considered her own words for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, I guess it’s still entertaining. But in a different way.”

“Save the banter for the show,” Aloth called. Rudi scowled at him, but Desta shot her the best be nice look she could muster. They couldn’t afford to scare off the only person willing to act as cameraman for free.

To be honest, Desta was still a bit mystified by Aloth’s continued presence at their investigations. He claimed he was there to be a neutral presence, and yes, Desta and Rudi did have a tendency to go on rambling, argumentative tangents when left to their own devices. But it was still strange that he volunteered his free nights to follow them around with a camera and listen to them bicker about ghosts.

Whatever the reason, Desta was glad. Their first few videos had been taken on cellphones and were next to useless. She was still livid about the time that her phone had run out of memory right before a ghostly voice whispered in her ear. According to Rudi, Desta’s own account of the incident didn’t count as ‘proof’.

And it was just nice to have Aloth around. He at least listened to Desta’s theories without laughing. And despite the occasional nervous comment or look of trepidation, he hadn’t yet been scared off by the strange things they investigated.

At last, he lifted the camera and gave Desta a nod. “We’re ready.”

“Tonight, we’re investigating the infamous Maerwald Mansion, an abandoned home that’s seen more than its share of history- and if the rumors are true, some of that history is still around.”

Rudi watched quietly as Desta relayed the story to the camera. She’d the heard the urban legend too many times by now for it to truly hold her interest, but Desta had a certain theatrical approach that was enjoyable to watch. Not as good as Kana’s original telling, of course, but they had to make do while he was away at grad school. And Desta had his same enthusiasm, especially tonight. She had even dyed her hair a striking green for the occasion. She thought it made her look ‘spooky’. But between the bright sunflower patches she’d sewn onto her denim jacket and the bright smile on her face as she told the story, even a set of devil horns wouldn’t make her scary in the slightest.

“Maerwald was once a respected man in the city- heir to a great fortune, diplomat to visitors, advisor to just about every political figure on the scene. Until the day he mysteriously disappeared from society. According to accounts from the time, he stopped leaving the house completely. Rumors circulated that he had descended into madness, although no doctor was ever allowed inside the home. Food was brought in to him by the only servant he had not fired, and despite attempts to draw him out, this arrangement remained in place for months.”

“And then it gets weirder. The servant was seen entering the mansion one night- and was never seen again. People began reported hearing strange, unnatural noises coming from the mansion at night. At last the police entered by force. But when they were finally entered the house…” Desta dropped her voice and spread her hands wide. “He had completely vanished. No trace of him was ever found. Since then, the house has passed through multiple hands, but every owner has encountered only misfortune and tragedy. Now it sits unused and empty- or so it would seem.”

Rudi fought not to roll her eyes at the last statement. This was why she didn’t do introductions- apparently, she always sounded ‘too sarcastic’. Desta, however, continued with a conviction that could only be genuine.

“Angry spirits have been reported to inhabit this house for decades. Countless incidents have been reported since Maerwald’s disappearance. We’re here to see if we can get one of those incidents on tape.”

“Look, there’s no big mystery here,” Rudi cut in. “This Maerwald dude was just a weird old guy who became a hermit and probably killed his servant.”

“And no bodies were ever found? How does a ‘weird old guy’ pull that off?”

“Maybe the police were lazy!” Desta scoffed, and Rudi held up her hands defensively. “It’s more believable than ‘ghosts got him’!”

“We’ll see if you’re still saying that by the end of the night,” Desta said, giving the camera a knowing smile. Rudi glanced toward the camera herself and shook her head. She knew how the night would end- they would see nothing, and Desta would still insist the place was full of spirits. At least the internet would get a laugh.

“Now, remember,” Desta said as the group entered the master bedroom. “The spirits in this house are supposed to particularly angry, especially in this room. We should still try a peaceful approach, of course, but we need to prepared to defend ourselves if need be.”

“Sorry, I used my salt packet on the fries I had for lunch.”

Desta crossed her arms. “One day you’re going to get possessed, and you’ll think oh, if only I had listened to Desta and made a salt circle before summoning that spirit!” She heard Rudi unsuccessfully try to stifle a laugh, and chose to ignore it. “Anyway, that’s not what I meant. Considering the strength of the spirits at play here, I took the liberty of bringing this.”

Desta reached into her duffle bag and with a flourish produced a metal baseball bat. Aloth raised a concerned eyebrow. Rudi burst into laughter.

“Are you planning to beat the shit out of a ghost with a baseball bat? How does that even work?”

Desta bristled defensively. “It’s iron! Iron repels ghosts, that’s common knowledge.”

“I think that’s fairies,” Aloth stage whispered. Rudi dissolved into another fit of laughter.

“What? It’s ghosts, too, isn’t it?” Desta frowned and made mental note to ask Kana next time she saw him. “I swear, it works on ghosts, too. Ugh, this was so much cooler in my head. Maybe I should have just brought holy water…”

“No! This is great!” Rudi was beaming, her hands clasped together in delight. “Can I go get the brass knuckles from my car?”

“Iron! Brass knuckles wouldn’t work, and why the hell do you have them?!”

“Anniversary gift from Maia. And if you get a bat, I should get my knuckles. The only thing that might be enjoyable about meeting a ghost would be getting to fight it.”

“That’s not the point!” Desta protested. This was getting off track quickly- the whole point of this was to try and communicate with the spirits. “I have the bat because you clearly want to start I fight. I want to try diplomacy first. This is just… backup.”

Desta knew she was in trouble from the way Rudi smirked. “No, no, you came prepared with a weapon. I think you want to fight the ghosts as much as I do.” She tilted her head back and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hear, that ghouls? Desta’s ready to fuck you up!”

“No! You put that aggressive energy right back where it came from-”

“Too late! It’s out there, and you’re going to have to fend off Maerwald’s ghost with a baseball bat.” Rudi snorted and began to poke around the room, stopping occasionally to call out more insults into the air. A futile feeling began to creep over Desta as she watched her. Eventually, she turned and shook her head at Aloth.

“She’s going to get us killed.”

Nothing had jumped from the shadows to try and eat their souls yet, but Desta was still looking nervous and clutching her bat as they inspected the room. Rudi couldn’t suppress the occasional sarcastic remark that escaped when she glanced behind her and saw the other girl peering into the darkness with suspicion.

Desta could say whatever she wanted; Rudi knew the worst thing they’d find would by ugly furniture and splinters. Her flashlight swept over rotting floorboards, dusty shelves full of knick-knacks, and a large, rather imposing chair. The chair was admittedly kind of cool, and even a little creepy- it had throne-like feel that wouldn’t be out of place in an old-fashioned vampire movie.

“Look at this,” Rudi said, motioning Aloth over. “You think Maerwald’s ghost would be mad if I sat in his chair?” She walked over, making to sit as Desta began to protest.

“Don’t touch the- ah!”

The high-pitched yelp rang out just as Rudi touched the chair, and she immediately leapt back up in alarm. Desta was, who had been moving forward to grab her, had stopped in her tracks. She had a flashlight in one hand and her bat in the other, and was pointing them both at a dusty marble bust. She brandished the bat as if it were a sword, readying herself against whatever spirits she thought were in the air. “It moved!”

“…What now?” Rudi asked.

Desta’s eyes didn’t leave the statue. “I saw it. I swear to you, that head moved when I walked by.”

Now that was a bold claim. Rudi approached the statue, swatting Desta’s bat out of the way. She peered closely at it, but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Just a marble bust- a woman, Rudi thought, although it was hard to be certain through the wear and tear. The inscription was chipped and caked in dust, and Rudi could only make a few letters.

All in all, a totally normal thing to find in a decrepit mansion. “I think your imagination ran away with you on this one.”

“No! No it did not! We can review the footage later, that head is in a different position- don’t touch it!”

Rudi tapped the side of the statue’s head. It was cold and solid and certainly not capable of movement. “Seriously, Desta, you’re losing it.”

But Desta remained insistent, hovering near the statue and asking it a few questions about the house. No answers came, of course, but she was still didn’t take her eyes off of it until they moved on and left the room.

Desta had her proof that the spirits in this house were active, and Rudi not believing her didn’t change that. But after her encounter with the statue, they seemed subdued. The only other startling thing that happened that night was when Rudi opened an old cabinet and inadvertently disturbed a nest that was housing approximately a million spiders. Not supernatural, but it was a bit gratifying to hear Rudi’s scream.

Still, the lost potential of the statue stung. What they needed were those fancy helmet-cams, so she wouldn’t keep having these misses. But those were expensive, and besides, she liked having Aloth around as their cameraman.

“You believe me about the statue, right?” she asked him later that night as they packed up the camera equipment together.

His looked reluctant as he considered his answer. “I believe you thought you saw something,” he said finally, as diplomatically as possible.

“Aw, come on!”

He shrugged apologetically. “It’s difficult to believe that the laws of physics were unexplainably broken without some sort of evidence towards it. Maybe you saw something, but it’s not necessarily a supernatural sighting.”

“So you’re on Rudi’s side, then.”

“Well, no.” He paused, as if ruminating on his next words. “I’ve experienced… strange things, myself. I’m sure there are things in the world that we can’t understand or explain. But I would like better support for it than possible glimpses of moving statues.”

Desta mused over that thought. “Okay, fine. We didn’t get it on tape, so there’s plausible deniability as far as proof goes. Maybe we should go the more ‘scientific’ route. EMF’s, temperature measurements, that sort of thing. How much would it cost to get our hands on those?”

“Perhaps we can borrow some. I’m sure Ydwin has equipment like that.”

“Really?”

“Well, you’ve met her. Do you think that she doesn’t?”

“Fair enough. Although you should let me ask her- I’m pretty sure she’s still holding a grudge for that weird thesis dispute you two had.”

“…Fair enough.”

Desta grinned and playfully bumped her shoulder against Aloth’s. “Look at us! Our little show is getting professional! You and I should partner up against Rudi- you attack on the science side, I attack on the spirit side. We’d be unstoppable!”

A blush colored Aloths cheeks, and Desta remembered that he could be a bit camera-shy. She quickly added, “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to! A behind-the-scenes science expert is just as good!”

Aloth’s ears were still red, but he shrugged and said, “Perhaps I could make a guest appearance.”

Rudi watched Desta and Aloth from across the room, trying not to make retching noises at the cheesy scene the two were putting on. Desta was very good at seeing ghosts and ghouls that weren’t there, but was apparently blind to the obvious signs right in front of her. There was a reason Aloth kept volunteering for these investigations, and it was the same reason he wasn’t wearing a jacket tonight, despite the chill in the air. Wouldn’t want to hide those arms from Desta, would he? From the not-so-subtle looks Desta kept shooting his way, the desired effect had been achieved.

If only one of them would actually do something about it.

A buzzing in Rudi’s pocket alerted her to a new text. She fished her phone out and grinned when she saw the new message from Maia.

Movies and popcorn are ready and waiting. Bust any ghosts yet?

Rudi typed out a quick reply. No ghosts, but I did meet a lovely demonic spirit that wants to possess my mortal body for nefarious purposes.

A momentary pause, as three dots popped onto the screen. That’s kinda hot.

Rudi laughed out loud to herself, and went to tell the two lovebirds to hurry up. They could continue their oblivious flirting later; Rudi had a night of watching horror movies and spooning with her girlfriend to get to.

As she approached, Desta gave her a scheming look, and Rudi knew immediately that she wouldn’t like what Desta was about to say next.

“Rudi, have you ever heard of this thing called a ‘spirit box’?”

#pillars prompts weekly #pillars of eternity #poe fanfic #watcher desta #watcher rudi #their interactions were fun they fit very well in the ryan and shane dynamic #and ive been wanting to do a modern au for a while #happy halloween!#also in case anyone was wondering #the alternate title for this was its a ghost story baby just say yes #fanfic #fic: desta #fic: rudi #ch: desta #ch: rudi

14 notes · View notes

ais-n · 6 years ago

Note

Hi Ais! Sorry to bother you. I just need someone to talk to about this. I have been writing since i was like 15. My dream have always been to write a book. And i have started a lot of them but never finished anything. It’s like i get stuck at one point and feel my story is trash so i stop. Sometimes i find my plot boring and stupid and other times it’s my own inability to properly put it into words. I admire you and i wish i could write like you. I hope you never stop writing wonderful stories❤️

You’re so sweet, thank you!

I’m not sure if it would help to get a long ass rambling answer to this to encourage you to keep going based on my personal experience… but just in case it would, here goes:

It’s really hard to actually finish projects… starting them is so much easier. I get to a point where I’m like, “This is trash!” and/or I grow bored, and then I kind of peter out. I also have this unfortunate aspect of my personality where I figure I’m pretty unimportant and invisible, therefore what I have to say or write isn’t that particularly necessary for others to see, therefore it’s not that big of a deal if I just never post anything I did because I’d just be cluttering up the space where actual good writers or actual interesting people would be speaking instead.

Sometimes I just want to write a story to see where it goes, and then once I get to a point I can figure out how it will probably end, and if no one else is reading it or interested in it, I’m kind of like, well I know how it ends so I guess there’s no real point in writing the rest of it out or posting it because that’s just extra work for no reason. It was a combination of that thought process, and the feeling of “this is trash! Start over!” that had me writing and rewriting and dropping and restarting and editing and dropping and rewriting Incarnations since I was 12-14… I keep forgetting if I started at 12, 13, or 14 on that book. I think 14? But then maybe it was actually 13? idek.

Point being, that was a book that I started, stopped, started, stopped, dropped entirely, on and off for years. The idea would be really strong in my head but then sometimes I’d forget about it for years, then remember it for a while, then avoid it because I felt like a failure. What I know is when I first wrote it, I got 150 pages before I thought it was trash and totally stopped it. In the ensuing 15ish years, I would think of that world and want to do something in it but I just did not want to pick up where I had left off. So what I did was I kept starting new scenes, creating new characters, adding new aspects to the world, and each time I’d get a little ways into it and then go UGH THIS IS BORING or THIS IS TRASH and stop/drop it again, until the next time when I started something new again.

Around 2012, for Nanowrimo I tried starting it up again. I looked at the bits and pieces I’d written over the years, grabbed one of the scenes that seemed more interesting, started with that and ran with it. I met the requirements for nano, I liked the characters, I liked the new concept, but I still wasn’t sold on the book. I was kind of bored at the end of it because I didn’t fully know where I wanted to go with it… I was a little overwhelmed. It still didn’t really click with me to keep working on it again. I left it on the backburner for more years.

At one point, I created a Scrivener project for it, and then as the years passed and I’d get a brief idea for something, I’d go open it up and throw that info into a note, or add a new document exploring the idea, or whatever. Sometimes I’d write another short scene, other times I’d just do that and go.

Sometimes I tried to do other stuff related to it which was not writing the actual book… like I created some Sims to look like the characters, to see if I wanted to change anything in the description when I got an idea of it visually. Far more recently, I started making some of the key buildings in Sims so I could get inspired for more details on those. Are they accurate? Absolutely not. But they gave me ideas. Same as I tried to store the inspiration I’d get when watching tv shows or movies or whatever, and it would make me think of the characters or world or some other aspect. If I was inspired to write, I’d go write a note or scene right then, but if it was just a vague inspiration I would just try to focus on it when it was there, and really acknowledge the importance of feeling that inspiration, but then not actually do anything about it. But that would keep it in my mind.

Another thing I did when I really wanted to write was I would go to sleep thinking about an aspect of the story, to try to make myself dream something related, so I would wake up with inspiration.

I also tried to inspire myself by buying some physical organization materials – I got a bunch of whiteboards so I could figure things out by writing it out, and I got a huge roll of white butcher paper so I could hand draw massive timelines for the characters to lay out their events and see whose overlapped with whose; I got a corkboard and pinned index cards and sticky notes to it and then took different colored strings and connected them across the board according to various criteria. I got notebooks and wrote out ideas and notes on the magic system and all sorts of things. I had gotten to a point where I was glad to have all the digital information but sometimes I needed something physical to work on, something tangible, so I felt like I actually had accomplished something and it wasn’t just in my head. I also made a book cover for the book (digitally) to remind myself to keep working on it, and made a digital map of the world with the help of a friend who’s good with geology so I had a reference I could hang about my computer.

Every time I had a thought or idea, or I had this vague restlessness of wanting to work on something but not feeling like actually writing, I tried to do something else related to it in some form. Usually world building or character creation of some sort, but sometimes just thinking about things.

I tried a lot of things, but in all honesty I figured I would never, ever finish that story. But then one day, and I don’t even remember what the catalyst was to be honest, it just… clicked. I had an idea for something, and when I went to write down that idea or do whatever with it, I remembered other notes I’d left over the years, other scenes, and I started looking at the massive amount of information I had compiled - and I realized, holy shit, I know how to connect this all. I found a way to pull together a lot of stories I’d made which I thought were all totally disconnected, and bring them into one theme. And when I did that, all these questions I had for this or that aspect of this or that, suddenly had really interesting answers or ideas I could roll with.

I found a way to stop being bored. And now, when I find that I just really really don’t want to do the next thing, I try a few times to make myself do it if I’m just feeling like I’m being lazy, but if repeated attempts are unsuccessful then I throw myself a curveball in the story or plot or characters, and it becomes fun again to write and plot it out as I try to figure out how to integrate that. I do that until I run out of steam, and try the same things again.

Because of that, a couple of years ago, I finished the book, and I was really happy with it. I’m still proud of myself for finishing writing it, but now I’m on a two year slump of editing the damn thing.

When I think back to the original story I wrote when I was younger, versus the book it became now and the series it’s starting, they are VERY different despite the fact that have the same initial basis. In fact, the original heroine of the book is now technically sort of a villain. Her story is the same; I just flipped the perspective. The original book was very base; I mean, at the time, I felt it would be interesting to write because it was a young woman as the main character with all the power, at a time when almost all the main characters I found to read were young men.

But the thing is, it was otherwise a super basic concept. Young woman suddenly finds out she’s the chosen one, lots of cool magic, she goes through her whole storyline with how things affect the world around her, the end. The story might have worked and been interesting solely because I was like 14 when I wrote it; if it had been published then, people might have given me a bit of slack for some of the laziness just because I was young. But the story I have now, informed by decades of life and experience since then, is SO fucking much better than that book was originally. It’s way more complex, far more interesting, the worldbuilding is far beyond what I had before, the characters are more nuanced, the cast is more diverse, the prejudices are more tailored. I’m GLAD I put that book aside a million times. I’m GLAD I didn’t finish it any of the times I had it in my head I had to finish it by the time I was xyz age. I feel like the series it is now is going to be far beyond what it would have been if I’d run with the original idea.

You know what helped me A LOT in actually finishing it in the end? Aside from everything I said?

I asked some friends to beta read it for me. And the people who read it really liked it, and gave me ideas on how to improve it. Their interest renewed my own interest and gave me enthusiasm I sometimes lacked on my own. I care a hell of a lot more about actually finishing something if someone else cares if I finish it.

Someone once asked Neil Gaiman how to be a good writer and get published, and one of his biggest recommendations was to just finish writing a book. He also said not to conform; to write the story that you want to write, that is right for you. I feel the same way, which is nice because Neil Gaiman is super dope so I feel better that my feeling is reflected in an actual successful and great writer. I feel a little safer in having my weird ass view on things, which is that I don’t believe in genres, really, or rather I don’t really believe in writing a story specifically for the boxes checked off for a specific genre.

For me, anyway. It’s totally fine for others, if that’s their jam - there can be some great stories that way!

But for me, I literally just do not want to write a story at all if I have to make it fit someone else’s label. I lose all interest in it and give up completely. I think that’s probably because when I started writing, it was because I was a nerdy ass youngster who couldn’t find books that felt like they represented me exactly or what exactly I wanted to read, so I was kind of just like, “I guess I’ll write it, then.” There are tons of books out there that do fit the criteria of the genres, and they can be SUCH fun and good books to read… the people who write those books excel at that type of writing, and so if they tried doing anything else they would not be true to themselves.

We need those writers and we need those books. But we also need the writers and the books that just say fuck it to everything and do what they want. You may not be as popular, or you may find it difficult to go the traditional route; maybe you can’t become a full-time writer, if everything is stacked against you, I don’t know. But you can write what feels right for you, and there will always be readers out there who needed that book to feel right for them.

My hope for you is you don’t silence yourself and your stories like I tend to do. I hope you finish your books/stories, and I hope you share them. There is probably someone out there wishing your book existed, and until you write it, they won’t have that exact perspective and that exact story to read. Don’t get discouraged if it takes you a long time; and don’t downplay the value of walking away and not thinking about it for a while at a time. But I do think there’s definite value in always coming back.

So what I hope you do for yourself is find some easy way to compile all the different information you’ve formed for your book(s) over the years so that you make it really easy on yourself to add extra bits and pieces as you go. I hope that you do other things that aren’t specifically writing but still get your creativity going for the stories - whether that’s making Sims, drawing art, writing things out on paper or whiteboards, doing everything digitally, doing everything physically, whatever it may be. I hope you find ideally a few someones to read what you have so far, get their take on it, and I hope they are enthusiastic enough to help you keep it in the forefront of your mind.

I TOTALLY understand having wanted to be a writer since you were young… I have always wanted to be a writer, as far back as I can remember. (Of course, if you go back far enough, I also wanted to be a veterinarian or other things too).

My goal is still to someday be an actual author. I feel like I’m not, still, but maybe someday I will be.

I used to put a ton of pressure on myself to finish things by certain ages, and when I missed my goal I got depressed and thought I was the worst and why bother, no one wants to read it anyway, and etc etc etc. Also, for like 10 of those years I was working on ICoS and that really took my mental energy and creative interest as a focus so I didn’t really even want to work on my LGBTQIA+ fantasy books for a while. But as time passed, and objectively looking at the story I have now compared to the story it was before, I think it was far better that I didn’t force the story before I was ready to write it, but also that I didn’t let myself just put it off forever and never make myself work on it again.

There is no age limit to being a writer… first of all, you’re a writer if you write, so if you already wrote a bunch of books or parts of any stories - you are already a writer. You’ve already accomplished something awesome! But if your goal is to be a paid author/writer, then whether you are one now or one in 20 years or even 70, you still can be a writer. You still can fulfill that dream. Never give up on it, for yourself and for the diversity and complexity of the stories out there in the world, and for the readers who would want to see what you have to say.

Nanowrimo is next month… maybe you could start thinking about the stories you’ve worked on so far, see if any strike your fancy for exploring a bit further, or just take the general concept of one of the worlds and create a totally new set of characters and plotline on that world. Whether or not you end up liking that new plot, the new characters, it will still give you a more nuanced view of the world itself. It might spark an idea now or 20 years from now. It might, someday, be the key to finishing the story.

Don’t devalue the importance of those little bits and pieces, or the importance of taking your time but never giving up, or of even just talking the story out to others and seeing what they have to say. I constantly think what I write is boring and stupid, I constantly get suddenly bored with something and just cannot for the life of me write the next chapter no matter what because it sucks ass.

So I switch it up. I push aside for a moment what I thought I had to do next, and then I ask myself, “What can I add that would make me actually want to write this?” I’ve found that by doing that, you can get some super interesting new ideas that coordinate together out of nowhere later if you just keep going.

So maybe for nano, you can ask yourself, “What would I want to write in this world or this character’s life, etc, that would make me actually want to write it?” Completely forget about it fitting perfectly with what you have. Screw that. Just make it fun for you. I feel like it’s a very natural writer thing to do where even if you start with something that seems extremely disparate, as long as they’re following the same general world rules, eventually you’ll have an epiphany that ties it all together.

Also ask yourself, are you trying to make the characters conform to the plot, or letting the plot conform to the characters? If your world or characters want to veer totally off from what was planned, as long as it’s in character - follow them, not your plans. You wrote those plans when you had a limited understanding of the characters and world… the time you spent with them since then is valuable and shouldn’t be ignored. If they want to send you on a wild goose chase into the middle of nowhere when they’re supposed to be doing something else entirely, do it. Follow that goose. See where it leads you, and then see how fun it is trying to make your way back.

Maybe you can try that this nano (or just do a totally new story altogether if that’s your jam instead), and see where it takes you. Maybe you can find some people to read it, and maybe you can track all the info you put together, no matter how small and stupid it may seem. And maybe, someday, you’ll be able to look back years later like me, and thank your past self for never giving up and for keeping that information accessible so that one day, far down the line, you’d have everything you needed at your fingertips when a sudden idea inspires you to look at your story, characters, or world, from an angle you’d never considered before.

Also, fwiw, I like to always throw one thing in that’s a bit unexpected, if possible, into characters or plots. In all honesty, I do that in part because I get bored affffff very easily so I want to keep myself entertained. But it also makes for a lot more interest, I think, in the characters. Like, whatever the plot is, or the character is, think about what would be the easy next thing… think about what the stereotype of that would be. And then deliberately choose something either completely different or a little bit off in order to introduce intrigue.

ICoS, for example - Boyd was judged a lot for many things, and he wasn’t really good around people naturally. It would have been easy to say that because he was kind of socially distant/awkward he would suck at undercover, but to me that wasn’t interesting. Instead, he could go undercover and be very good at it when needed because, despite his natural reticence to trust others, he had spent his life watching other people trying to learn their behavior/mimic them to understand why people didn’t like him. So even though on his own he would hate going into a party or have no fucking clue what to say, if he was playing a character, he was very good at it because he had gathered that information for years. Instead of saying that because he was bullied he didn’t know how to deal with people, I said he knew how to deal with people because he was bullied.

Incarnations, for example - Vikenti is a magical cop who’s really grouchy, kind of rude, kind of a dick. He spends most of his time seemingly insulting everyone around him. It would have been easy to just make him be a dick cop who grumps on everyone and does nothing beyond the job. And yet, he’s taken under his wing a young woman who others see as a monster. A young woman who everyone who knows the story of their background would think he would have every reason to hate. And you also see him helping this random girl get a memento even though he easily could have ignored it because, ultimately, she had nothing to do with him. There’s also an Empath who’s a pretty good dude who has the biggest crush on him even though their sexual orientations don’t line up. Everyone wonders how this Empath can even like him when he’s such an asshole, but then you have to ask yourself, wouldn’t an Empath of all people know best who to trust and who not? There are scenes with Vikenti, who seems like a super straight and straight-laced dude who doesn’t know how to explore emotions beyond insulting people, where he is the one there who catches someone when they fall, or says just the right thing when it’s needed. Because he’s an asshole, but not an asshole. He cares but just doesn’t care.

So, if you’re bored with parts of your stories or characters, I also really encourage throwing dichotomy and contradictions in there. Take something solid on the story, and then think of something that seems to be at odds with that, and make that be a solid part of it too. Now you have something interesting to explore… how someone or something can be these two seemingly contradictory things in the same form. I find that can help me stay interested, too.

Anyway, I’ve rambled enough and am probably not very helpful, I’m sorry :( I just wanted you to know I totally know what you mean, and precisely because of that, I know without a doubt you can do this. You will finish the story or stories you need to finish. I 100% believe in you, and I hope you can get to a point where you 100% believe in yourself too.

Happy writing, my friend! You are going to finish your stories and they’re going to be fantastic! And if they aren’t fantastic the first draft, that’s the way it is for pretty much everyone - all you have to do is keep working on them until they are. You will absolutely get there, because it’s a journey you already started long ago. You’ve come this far and there’s a lot more waiting for you as you go forward. My writing voice is no better or worse than anyone else’s, it’s just what feels right for me. Your writing voice is yours and therefore inherently lovely. Which means, if you wish you could write like me, you absolutely can: by writing like yourself. I bet you already are, you just can’t see it because of how stressful it can be in the middle of the millionth project feeling like you got nowhere previously. But if you keep going, keep pushing, I know you won’t regret it later, and I know the story you end up finishing will be exactly the story you needed to write at that time, and somewhere out there in this world, someone will be incredibly grateful to you for having written and shared it.

(Oh btw the thing I was talking about is Incarnations - and the first 4 chapters are out free here if you want context on the stuff I mentioned, in case somehow it helps? I really need to edit it… I keep putting it off, but your message is making me want to start it up again, so thank you!

#ask ais #writing #incarnations #wildwood rising #I talk a little about icos but feel like I shouldn't tag that?#idk #anyway the tl;dr on this is you can totally do it!#i believe in you! :D #Anonymous

14 notes · View notes

wishingforadventure · 7 years ago

Text

“Fuck I’m So Gay”

So me and my best friend - this gal - and I were talking about Simon and Bram, as best friends do and I mentioned a Canon Divergence idea that me and her thought was hella funny. So she told me to write it and I always I will, but never do. Well this time I did and with the help of my amazing beta Fall I was able to write this so enjoy I guess. Hope y’all enjoy!

Read on AO3

Bram’s mind was wandering. Wandering to places that weren’t appropriate for lunch. Weren’t appropriate for school. He had tried very hard to think about anything other than grabbing Simon right now, pinning him against the lunch table, and making out with him. He needs to not think about that. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat trying to reposition himself into a less comfortable position to try and diminish his problem. Unfortunately, shifting positions only causes friction that make him more aware of how not good this situation was for him. He tried shifting again, barely being able to conceal his wince, gaining him a strange glance from Garrett.

Yeah, most definitely not appropriate for lunch. A lunch he had with his best friend and close second, Nick. And awkwardly, three people he barely spoke to. Not that he didn’t try to talk to them. He did. He tried very often to muster the courage to acknowledge them individually. But he always fails to get over the idea he’d be making a complete fool of himself. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t intimidated by Leah and Abby. The way that it seems at least one of them was always accompanying Simon. He has luckily been able to keep his crush on Simon a secret from everyone, with the exception of Garrett. He knew everything. Bram had told him about the emails, Jacques, and how he was Blue. And even though he is the only person who knows Bram’s secret, he was positive that Abby or Leah would soon catch on to how utterly smitten he is, even if Simon’s oblivious to his feelings.

Bram can’t risk that. He has kept his hopeless crush a secret for more than two years. That can’t change now.

So, he avoids talking to Leah, Abby, and Simon as much as possible. That was the plan, always had been the plan, that way he was able to stare and appreciate Simon from afar.

That was the plan, until Simon decides to show up at lunch with stage makeup, including that god forsaken eyeliner. Which did wonders to his eyes and causes Bram’s mind to drift straight into the gutter. Bram’s salad becomes completely forgotten the second Simon sits down between Abby and Leah, inconveniently right across from him.

He tries to pay attention to literally anything else in the room. Trying, with much difficulty, to read the anti-bullying posters taped up on the far wall of the cafeteria. It is taking everything in him to drown out the sounds of Abby and Leah’s voices talking about how hot Simon was. He is doing quite well with all of it, he thinks, repeating “bullying is a key that opens no lock” over and over again in his head. He starts to feel confident that he was going to make it through lunch without drawing any suspicion. That was until someone’s leg brushed up against his own under the table. He glanced back to the table and was met with Simon staring right back at him, with eyes that had to be illegal.

“Sorry.” Simon mumbled quickly, smiling in his direction, and Bram swore that he could die happily. Now that Simon Spier with his lined grey eyes had smiled at him. Not just in his presence, but directly at him, his life was complete. Bram really can pass to the other side with no regrets now.

“Oh, ugh, don’t worry about it.”

Smooth, Bram, smooth. He can’t even be mad at himself for stuttering. He has a bigger problem, because now that he has looked directly at Simon, he was not going to be able to look anywhere but at Simon.

He can’t help himself. What right did Simon have sitting there looking like that. Looking so utterly perfect. Simon Spier has always been attractive. He’s unbearably cute, with his blonde fringe, oversized hoodies, and those grey eyes. The eyeliner was short circuiting his brain. The usual cute Simon, with his unbearably cute hair, grey eyes, and oversized hoodies, seems like a different person now. Hot. So hot. Bram blames the makeup entirely.

Bram is really trying to look away. He is trying to get all the willpower he has and apply it to looking away from Simon and focus on literally anything else in the room. His eyes just stay staring, he can’t peel them away and truthfully, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to.

“Fuck, I’m so gay.”

He hears the words come out of his mouth before he gets the chance to register that he’s speaking. And then it’s just panic. He wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. All five of them are looking at him completely silent, presumably waiting for an explanation. He doesn’t have one. He doesn’t have an explanation that won’t give too much away. He’s out. He can no longer hide behind Blue, or play the straight soccer player, because he just admitted to being gay. The silence starts to get a bit awkward.

Garret leans over and whispers into his ear. “Bro, not to come off like I don’t support you, cause I totally do, but I think you just came out. To your crush none the less. And you look like you just saw a ghost. So, if you want to get up and leave, I’ll do my best to cover for you.”

Thank God for Garrett. He turns to face Garrett, gives a quick nod, swings his backpack over his shoulder and leaves the cafeteria as quickly as possible without causing a further scene.

He hears a chair being pushed back and then some hurried clutter of someone getting up from the table to follow him. He quickens up his pace hoping Garret keeps to his word of covering for him. He pushed the cafeteria door opens and starts down the hall. The situation finally getting a chance to fully set in.

He’s not upset he realizes. Whenever he had thought of actually coming out to people other than his parents and Garrett in his mind it seemed like such a big deal. And it just wasn’t. Sure, proclaiming his gayness while staring at Simon surrounded by his closest friends had caused him to panic slightly, but that had less to do with the that thing and more to do with the staring at Simon and practically confessing his love thing. He’s relieved to realize that he’s okay with the being openly gay, which certainly makes everything a lot easier. If only he somehow could take back the obvious point that it was Simon who made him confess in that way.

He stops in the middle of the hallway. Realizing he’s made it about halfway to his locker. He doesn't care, he realizes. The relief of having the weight off his shoulders makes him realize how little he actually cares. He doesn't care that his friends know he’s gay. He doesn't care that they know about his massive crush on Simon, because he finally feels like he can breathe. He feels like he can finally take a breath. If things don’t work out with Simon he’ll be okay he realizes. His life doesn’t depend on one boy liking him. He has soccer, and an awesome best friend, and school. So he’d be okay if Simon didn’t feel the same way. Simon isn't the kind of person to rub anything in, they could go right back to being sorta friends without things being too awkward. Garrett would definitely not be a problem. Nick doesn’t have any right to make fun of him with how blatant his crush on Abby is. And he cares very little on Leah and Abby’s opinions on the whole thing.

Really, the only person who’s opinion on the matter he cares about is Simon’s. And he hadn't even stuck around long enough to see his reaction to Bram’s ogling and announcing that he was gay for him. Fuck, he was an idiot. He has to go find out what Simon thinks of the new developments.

He starts to turn around, only to run head first into someone.

“I’m so sorry I wasn't paying attention to whe-” He starts apologizing, rambling a little, trying to get away to find Simon. After brushing off his jeans he looks up and realizes the search isn't going to be that hard. “Simon?”

“You walk really, really fast,” Simon says slightly out of breath and smiling at Bram. How Bram got lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that smile twice in one day he wasn’t sure. “Look Bram, as you already probably know, I’m gay too, and I just wanted to let you know that, you don’t have to be ashamed,”

“Simon, I’m not ashamed of being gay.” He says trying to stop Simon’s rambling.

“And that we won’t tell anyone, coming out is your thing,” Simon continues clearly disregarding the fact that Bram was trying to interrupt. “And we all totally support you. I mean I don’t know about Garett, but he didn’t seem to take it too poorly back there. Leah, Nick, Abby, and I are totally chill with it.”

“Simon.”

“And I really don’t want you to think that us being quiet when we found out was us being uncomfortable with it.”

“Simon.”

“We were all just a little surprised is all.” Bram reaches his arms out and grabs Simon’s shoulders, finally getting his attention.

“That wasn't why I ran out.” He inhales deeply and lets out a sigh. “I’m not ashamed of being gay, Simon, I’ve had a long time to come to terms with it, you know having a crush on you since freshman year and all.”

“Wait, wait, what? You have a crush on me?”

Bram pinches his nose and tries to calm his nerves, Simon has always a little oblivious. Him staring at Simon all lunch must have gone completely over the cute Oreo loving boys head. He was gonna have to spell it out for him. He took another few long breaths noticing how Simon was staring waiting for a response.

“I’m Blue.”

Welp, there’s part one stay tuned for part two will be coming out soon. Please leave comments or message me I love seeing that stuff and I’ll actually write more if I’m given ideas so give me ideas!

96 notes · View notes

the-poutine-routine · 7 years ago

Note

I see many people think Tessa and Scott are still messy, do you agree? I definitely see messy and unresolved things and feelings in the past.. but since they announced the comeback? They seem very relaxed, happy, more themselves (more put together). I don't even have words for it, just the very opposite of messy.

Hi anon,

This is a really good but really loaded question so I apologize in advance for not making any sense whatsoever. First of all, I guess, I need to point out that I have absolutely no credentials whatsoever to give a proper response to this. I have never studied relationships in depth and certainly never anything as complex as what Tessa and Scott have. Moreover, I know neither of them personally so my completely unintelligible ramblings have no basis other than some random observations and speculations.

I guess it really comes down to how you define the word “messy”. In one interpretation, one could say that VM’s relationship was, is, and always will be messy simply because of its past bumps (possibly including, but not limited to: Tessa’s surgeries, weird sexual tensions despite other significant others, the nature of growing up with someone like a sibling and then suddenly having to play lovers with them). In this case then, yes, I would say that Tessa and Scott’s relationship is very messy, however this does not necessarily mean that any repressed feelings or energies are still causing them distress. This I guess would call for a theory that speculates something along the lines of Tessa and Scott realizing that their relationship is incredibly unique and, yes, even messy at times, but that they have come to terms with this complexity and are content with the fact that they may never fully be able to understand or label exactly what their relationship is.

Another way to look at this “messiness” as I guess I’m terming it for this freaking essay, is that it simply means that Tessa and Scott’s relationship is unlike anything most people ever have nor ever will encounter, and thus, because it confuses us (and maybe them), and maybe even scares us (and maybe them) just a little bit because we can’t box it up or draw lines around it, and therefore term it as a “mess” because we simply cannot unpack and detangle every single detail of that relationship, and therefore leave it as the mess that it is. (This doesn’t mean that being a mess is a bad thing, we can still call it a mess but have a genuine awe and appreciation for it… sort of like my room but that’s besides the point.)

I guess the final two possibilities (that my brain has decided to produce at this exact moment in time) can go hand-in-hand as they are exact opposites. The first option is that Tessa and Scott have indeed sorted through all the baggage and clutter attached to their relationship. While they may not necessarily have defined it, they at least have a very good understanding of their boundaries when it comes to each other and know the direction they want to take their relationship moving forward. Conversely, however, the flip-side is that there is a possibility (I personally think this is the least likely of all possibilities, but anything is possible and I know nothing so I’m including it for some variety) that they actually do have a crap ton of repressed feelings, sexual tension, unaddressed desires, etc… ya know all that soap opera bullshit that doesn’t seem like it could happen in real life, but anything is possible with VM… that they are simply ignoring and are doing such an intense job of compartmentalizing everything that they can still be happy and have fun on their trip to Europe despite having all of this ignored messiness going on.

So I guess this, like any situation with these two (and in the entire universe), can be looked at through many different lenses. Although a lot rides on how you think of the word “messy” applying to a relationship when it comes to this situation, I guess I, personally, wouldn’t say that their relationship is messy? I don’t really know… I mean I personally generally tend to associate the word “messy” with bad things… So while VM maybe have a messy relationship in the sense of going through the classic childhood besties to on-ice lovers to maybe actual lovers I really don’t know??? trope, or may have a messy relationship in the sense that they have kind of a screwed up past with each other when it comes to sexual tensions, whatever they have going on right now (and as you mentioned, anon, since the start of the comeback), seems to be working out excellently for them.

Mmmmmm…. Ok yeah sorry I’m making zero sense here, I’m just trying to work through it myself real-time. I guess they’re messy-now in the sense that they are still the same people who went to hell and back pre-comeback, but not messy-now in that while we as spectators may never know what’s going on between the two of them, they definitely seem to have worked out, talked out, figured our, made out, skated out some sort of something so that they now seem to be fully enjoying their time together… ugh they’re so happy, and I’m just so happy they’re happy and at the end of the day, that’s what matters most I guess.

Did that actually answer the original question? Nope. Definitely not. And I am so sorry for that. I know many people have a much more solid stance on things when it comes to Tessa and Scott’s relationship, but I am just generally confused by everything all the time, so I don’t really have a solid opinion. I think it’s definitely important to acknowledge the mountains and valleys of their past because those diversions are what got them to the level of greatness that they’re apparently at today, but when it comes down to it, I think it’s equally if not more important to enjoy the happy content that we have been getting in recent months from these two adorable idiots.

Again, this is all just speculation. Honestly who knows what’s going on with those two. I sure as hell don’t.

Anywho, thanks so much anon :) I apologize for not really having a solid stance on VM’s current level of messiness and for writing a goddamn essay in response to what should have been simple question, and also for not making any sense. Jesus christ I contradicted myself like 12 times in that thing, I’m so sorry.

#Anonymous #anon #ask

20 notes · View notes

peter-maximoff-imagines · 7 years ago

Text

"For the Record" (Peter Maximoff x Reader) Requested!

Warnings: Language, smut, jealousy, smut, lots of smut, curse words

A/N: Hey dudes. I'm really sick rn so I'm sorry if this isn't my best. Love you guys!!!

**********************************************

You frown and glance around the store. There didn't seem to be another living soul in there. You sighed and glanced over at the record player. It's arm had long since reached the center of the abandoned record. Elton John. You carefully lifted the arm and flipped the album to side B. Static coursed through the speakers and the old store was soon filled with music once again. You sat down on the counter and picked up a book on John Lennon that has been left there, skimming it's pages as you waited for the boy with the sliver hair to return. Just your luck to work up the courage to talk to him on the one day he was mysteriously absent from his reliable place among the clutter. Among the boxes upon boxes of dusty records and the completely random merchandise with barley legible, handwritten price tags laying haphazardly across the displays.

You were a loyal customer of the little shop. You came almost once a week to rumage through the new stock, and you had often found yourself blushing when the ridiculously smug, dimple smiled cashier winked at you as you flipped through the plastic crates. He seemed to be the only one who was ever at the shop, not that you minded.

You had started to get lost in the little book, and you barley noticed the confused looking boy that had turned the corner to see you sitting in front of the cash register. He pulled off his head phones and cleared his throat, hoping that you hadn't heard him singing along from the storage room. You snapped back to reality, closing the book and immediately standing up from the counter. The boy laughed. "You scared me. I'm sorry, I didn't know there was anyone out here. Did you want to buy something?" You felt your courage drain as you glanced up into his warm brown eyes. "Um...no?" he frowned. "Oh? Well, then how can I help a pretty girl like yourself?" he winked and your head felt like it was spinning. Your plans of waltzing in and seducing him seemed laughable now. You swallowed.

"I...I wanted to ask you if you wanted..." The boy cocked an eyebrow and you panicked. "I need a job." the boy smiled.

"Your hired." "Wait, really?" "Yeah, sure. I'm the only one working here right now and believe me, I could use some help. Besides, I see the kind of stuff you buy...you've got good taste." It definitely wasn't what you were planning, but in a way, it was better. ******************************************* Working at that hole-in-the-wall record shop was somehow the best job you'd ever had. Within days, you and the boy (whose name, you found out, was Peter), were best friends. The store's owner was old and he very rarley visited and things were never really that busy, so you'd both just lay around and ramble about the music and dance around the store and play whatever albums you wanted. Sometimes, when the schools got out for bad weather, Peter would even bring his little sister in, and you'd all watch VHS tapes with the old, dusty television that had been dumped in the back of the store. Peter had an inate ability to make you laugh, no matter how much shit was going on in your world. You'd still catch yourself staring, but when he caught you, you didn't force yourself to look away. In fact, it sometimes felt as if he was inviting you to stare for as long as you'd like. It wasn't until around seven months in that you realised: Your crush on him had grown into a love. ******************************************* Peter walked in that morning at around ten forty-five. "You're late!" You called jokingly, not looking up from your magazine. "I know. Whatcha reading?" Peter grabbed the magazine from you hands and began to flip through it.

"Ugh, give it back." "Harrison Ford, huh? That Star Wars guy? You're actually into him?" You smirked, picking up on the twinge of jealously in Peter's voice. You had heard that little twinge before, but never really thought to act on it. You didn't even know much of anything about Harrison Ford, but it's not like Peter had to know that. "What? You can't blame me. He's so hot, Peter." He blushed a little.

"Psh, what does he have that I don't, huh?" "I don't know, Pete...", you tried to hide the smirk that was creeping across your face, "I just feel like he could give me a real good time." Peter's face went red. You couldn't tell if it was because he was embarrassed or turned on. Suddenly, he realised what you were doing. He smiled to himself.

You backed against the counter as Peter lazily boxed you in with his arms. Just looking at him made your heart flutter. His hair was tucked behind his ears and his t-shirt was old, and far too big. You were basically nose to nose at this point. "You're trying to make me jealous." You laughed and shrugged indignantly.

"Or are you trying to say that I couldn't give you a good time?"

"I said nothing of the sorts." You bit your lip. That only spurred him on. "Good, because if you don't think I could give you a good time...by all means, let me prove you wrong." You smiled, amusedly. "Are you trying to seduce me?" Peter smiled and laughed lightly.

" I don't know...Are you seduced?" ******************************************* It wasn't a minute later that he caught your lips with his, and then you were kissing him. And he was kissing you. Passionatley. He grabbed your ass and pressed you farther into the counter. You tugged his hair in response and he let out a low groan. You could feel the sound in his chest and it made heat rise to your stomach. "Peter..." you moaned breathily as he wandered down to your jaw. "We should probably stop, " You mumbled as you ran your hands through his hair. He nipped at this skin below your ear. Your breath hitched in your throat and you whimpered a little as you felt his tounge run over the spot.

"So let's stop." he whispered against you. Your head was a million miles away. You could barley even process his words anymore. And suddenly, he was dragging you into the storage room. He tugged at one of the belt loops on your shorts, signaling you to jump. You wrapped your legs around his hips and he set you on a table top behind you He continued to kiss you, rubbing you gently though your shorts. You gasped, bucking your hips into his hand. "Fuck, Pete, "You whimpered. There was an ache below his stomach. He felt like his whole body was on fire.

"Hey Peter..." you didn't realise that you were so out of breath. He pulled back to look at you. You swallowed thickly. "I've never really done anything like this before." His eyes widened. "Shit, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to push you into anything. Goddamnit, I always go too fast." He ran his hands through his mussed hair, looking genuinely upset and concerned. "No, Pete. I want you...please. I just...I don't know if I'll be able to make you feel... good." Peter smiled a little and grabbed your hands, leaving a little kiss on your forehead. You laid your head on his chest, pressing your nose against the column of his throat. "I don't want to hurt you," he mumbled, Tracing circles onto your knee with his thumb. You kissed him slowly and sweetly and pulled his hair back behind his head, giving yourself access to his neck. You decided to distract him from his uncertainty. You wanted to melt in the little whimpers and moans that escaped past his lips. Your hand crept up his shirt, moving downward over his stomach. You were teasing him. And you loved it. You smiled against his skin, licking a warm, wet trail across his collarbone and he hissed. You smiled, thoroughly enjoying how weak he was becoming. You pressed a kiss to the soft skin below his jaw. Your breath was hot against his ear. He bit his lip. "Tell me what you want, Peter." "I ... I want...Fuck...I want you to touch me. " He stammered. You slid your hand past his waist band and grazed his length with your fingertips. He groaned and snapped his hips towards you. You ran your thumb over his tip, slowly pumping him. "Fuck Y/N, this'll be over before it starts." You smiled, pleased with yourself. He laced his fingers through your belt loops again, tugging them downward. "You've got too many clothes on." He whispered hotly over your lips. You laughed breathily and helped him rid you of your shorts. You tugged both of your shirts off too in the process, leaving you exposed to the beautiful boy in nothing but your underwear. Peter pulled you a little further off the counter by your knees. You smirked and grinded against his middle. He cursed and pinned your hips down, pushing you to lay back against the wall. "You know, you really shouldn't tease Y/N ... " He left a chaste kiss below your ribs, trailing his lips down your stomach, stopping right above the waistband of your underwear. He took the elastic between his teeth, giving it a tug before letting pop back against your skin. "It's rude. " He brushed a finger across the wet spot forming on your underwear. Your back arched and you whimpered. "Bite me, Maximoff. " He smirked, hooking his finger over your waistband and sliding them off completely.

"Big talk when you've got someone's head between your legs." He grazed his tounge over you lightly. Your whole body tensed and your jaw dropped as you let out a silent moan. "Look at you, you're soaked. You really want me don't you?"

"You are such an asshole." He grinned and licked another, far more effective line up your cunt. You cried out lacing your hands in his hair as he ventured to your clit, sucking on it in short bursts. Your vision went white as you strained for friction, grinding against his face. His tongue vibrated against you and you could feel your stomach twisting tighter and tighter with every movement. Without warning, you felt his tounge pressing inside of you. "Shit Peter, l'm gonna cum," You choked. You were starting to see spots. His mouth returned to your clit, and you felt him push a finger in, curling it inside you. You gasped at the feeling. Peter grinned as he felt your walls clench around his fingers and you came. He watched you ride your high before he stood again, wiping his mouth on his arm. The apex of your thighs was still throbbing when his lips met yours again. "You look gorgeous when you cum," He mumbled against your lips. "I'm sure I'll be able to say the same for you." You stood and pulled open the button on his jeans. You knelt as you pushed them down. The tent in his boxers made heat pool between your thighs. Peter watched with shallow breaths as you inched off his boxers and took him in your hand, kissing the tip of his cock. He whimpered as you trailed your tongue along the underside of him, trying his best not to rut against you. His stomach tightened as you sucked lightly on his tip, tasting the little bead of pre-cum that had formed there. He forced himself to interrupt you, knowing that he wouldn't last much longer if he kept watching your lips around his cock. "Stop...Fuck." He choked and pulled away, letting out a breath that he didd know he was holding in. "As much I love this, and believe me, I really fucking do, I need to be inside you." You stood, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Even standing there, you could feel his cock in between your legs. He gave you a little peck on the lips and lifted you onto the table again, once more leaning over to meet you lips, slower and deeper this time. There was love in that kiss. Your nerves were flying around in your stomach, but it was nothing compared to your desperate need to have him fill you. "If anything hurts...Anything...tell me. I'm not going to be upset in anyway. Even if nothing hurts, we can stop whenever you want. I want to make you feel good." You nodded and kissed him, sweetly. He brought his tip to you middle, gliding it over your center and rubbing himself over your clit. Your whole body needed him right then and there, but he took his time, desperate not to hurt you. He studied your face intently as he pressed against your hips. He watched himself sink into you, biting his lip so hard it could draw blood. Your back arched and you both let out a groan as he entered you. He was thick and long, and you felt so full. It didn't hurt, other than a dull ache in your hips. It took a second to get used to the feeling. You felt him bottom out and as he did, he hit something deep inside you that made your hips buck. Your breathing was heavy and it was scaring him to death. "Y/N.." You let out a noise, something between a moan and a whimper, followed by a little "fuck". He immediately went to pull out, but you grabbed his shoulder. "I hurt you-" "No, Pete. It feels good. So good. Fuck, Pete, move. You can move, Peter."

You felt his cock twitch inside you. He pushed back into you slowly, hitting that spot again. You were so wet and tight. He could feel your walls contracting around him. He knew he wouldn't last long. He rolled his hips again and again, pulling himself flush against you. The tightness in your stomach returned as you felt him hit your pubic bone. His finger tips dug into your sides. You of his hands in yours, sliding it over your breast. Spurred on by this, he thrust into you harder. You cried out and the knot in your stomach twisted with pressure. He left hot, open-mouthed kissed down your stomach and ran his fingers through your hair as he fucked you harder. You cunt clenched tighter around his cock and he let out a low groan. "I'm cumming," You croaked weakly as you felt yourself growing even tighter around him. He thrust harder, hitting that spot inside you and rubbed his thumb over your clit. Your orgasm enveloped you as you came hard on Peter's cock. His thrusts grew messy as you clenched around him and you felt his warmth fill you. His hand ran down his side and he pressed his face into the crook of your neck as he came. You took in a sharp breath as he pulled out of your heat. You were still sensitive from your high. Your cunt throbbed, and you groaned as you felt his warm, slick cock fall against your thigh. You both laid there for a few seconds, catching your breath before Peter grabbed your shirt and his pants from the floor. You groaned as a slight, hollow ache formed in your stomach. Though nothing about the sex itself was painful, you were starting to feel a little sore now. Peter frowned and left the room momentarily, to return with a wet wash cloth from the bathroom. He kissed you sweetly as he cleaned you up, gently wiping any sign of his orgasm from the inside of your thighs. "Are you in pain?" he whispered, not bothering to pull away from your lips.

"Just sore. " You smiled and sat up, pulling your shirt on over your head. Peter blushed a little and kissed your forehead before he went to pull on his shirt. You finished dressing yourself and turned to him, hugging him from behind.

"Hey, Y/N?" he mumbled. You hummed in response. "I think you're really fucking beautiful. I always have."

You turned him around to face you, kissing him softly and running your fingers through his loose curls. "Harrison Ford's got nothing on you, babe."

#peter maximoff x you #peter maximof x reader #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff #evan peters #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver #xmen days of future past #xmen headcanon #xmen apocalypse #xmen imagine #xmen #smut #peter maximoff smut

1K notes · View notes