#this was gonna hit the queue tomorrow morning | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kaiyunsim · 27 days ago

Text

best lover —

pairing : bf!taesan x gn!reader

summary : after taesan works hard for the newest comeback you wanted to get him a gift... something perfect. but you don't know what exactly to get him so you get help from his roommate.

warnings : fluff, angst (just a little bit), tense confrontation, some music references, taesan gets kinda jealous, kind of a continuation of this fic

a/n : this lowkey made me relapse into the emo/punk genre and now i'm actively listening to them again ! taesan so silly here.

queueing : best lover - bibi, and july - heize + dean

[requested]

— wc : 4.8k — not proof read —

you’ve always known taesan was cool.

not in the tryhard way, not in the way people force an image to seem untouchable. no, he’s effortlessly cool. the kind of cool that comes from simply existing, from being so unapologetically himself that it draws people in.

his aesthetic is proof of that—dark clothes, silver rings, an ever-growing collection of band tees that he claims aren’t a collection but still seem to multiply every time you see him. his playlists are filled with gritty guitar riffs and melancholic lyrics, songs that feel like they belong in a coming-of-age film.

you love it. you love the way he leans against walls like a movie character, the way his fingers tap out drum beats on tables when he’s lost in thought. the way his voice gets softer when he talks about music, when he lets his guard down just enough for you to see the warmth underneath.

so, when their comeback is finally announced, when you see the hours of training, late-night rehearsals, and exhaustion culminate into something incredible, you know you need to do something. something that says, i see you. i see how hard you’ve worked, and i’m proud of you.

but what do you get someone like taesan?

he’s never been the type to want extravagant gifts. he shrugs off praise, mumbles “it’s nothing” when people tell him he’s done well. but you know he keeps every little note fans give him, that he still has the random trinkets the members bought him over the years.

so it has to be something personal. something that actually means something.

you think about it for days, running through ideas in your head. clothes? no, too easy. he already has everything he likes. accessories? maybe, but he’s picky, and you don’t trust yourself to pick out something he’d actually wear.

and then it hits you.

vinyls.

taesan loves music in a way that’s deeper than just listening. he collects records, always talking about how certain albums sound different on vinyl, how the warmth and crackle make it feel more alive. you’ve seen the way he runs his fingers over the covers, the way he carefully places them on his turntable like he’s handling something sacred.

but you don’t know enough about it.

you know the bands he listens to, sure, but not the specific pressings, not which editions are worth having, not which ones he’s been searching for. you need help.

so, you text the only person who would know and would be the most help.

sungho.

—

you: hey, random question, but do you think you could help me with something?

he replies almost immediately.

sungho: depends. am i gonna regret saying yes?

you snort. typical.

you: no, it’s for taesan. i wanna get him some vinyls, but i don’t know which ones he’d actually want.

a pause. then—

sungho: oh. you’re going ot make him a happy boyfriend for sure. sungho: yeah, i can help. you free tomorrow?

relief washes over you.

you: yeah. thanks, sungho. seriously.

sungho: don’t thank me yet. wait till we actually find something good.

you smile, pocketing your phone.

this is a good plan. a perfect plan.

now, you just have to keep it a secret.

the next morning, you wake up with a nervous excitement buzzing under your skin.

taesan is still half-asleep when you see him, his hair messy from sleep, the collar of his oversized shirt slipping down one shoulder. he looks soft like this, different from his usual sharp edges and guarded expressions.

“morning,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before he can grumble in protest.

he mumbles something incoherent, eyes still closed, before reaching out and lazily wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

you laugh, poking his side. “i have to go out for a bit.”

that wakes him up a little. his eyes blink open, groggy but alert. “where?”

you freeze for half a second before forcing yourself to play it cool. “just running errands.”

his brow furrows slightly, but he doesn’t question it. instead, he just tightens his grip around you for a moment before letting go.

“be safe,” he mumbles, voice still thick with sleep.

your heart squeezes at that.

you brush his hair out of his face, letting your fingers linger for a second longer than necessary. “always.”

—

meeting up with sungho feels like a mission.

he’s already waiting outside the taesan's dorm room, dressed casually but still effortlessly put together, a stark contrast to the slightly chaotic energy you’re bringing with you.

“you look nervous,” he says, amused.

“because i am.”

he raises an eyebrow. “it’s just vinyl shopping.”

“yeah, but it’s for taesan,” you stress. “i can’t mess this up. i need to find something perfect.”

sungho rolls his eyes but leads the way inside the vinyl store, hidden in the corners of the busy streets.

the moment you step in, you’re overwhelmed.

rows and rows of records stretch out in front of you, organized into sections you barely understand. the store smells like old paper and something nostalgic, a quiet hum of music playing from the speakers.

sungho glances at you. “you know what bands he likes, right?”

you nod. “yeah, but i don’t know what he already has.”

“then we start with the basics.”

he guides you through the aisles, pointing out albums that fit taesan’s taste. some are obvious bands you’ve seen on his playlists, artists you recognize from the posters in his room. others, not so much.

“this one’s a classic,” sungho says, pulling out a worn-looking album. “he’s mentioned it before, i think he even has a t-shirt of them.”

it was the black parade by my chemical romance

you take it from him, running your fingers over the cover. “do you think he already has the vinyl?”

sungho shakes his head. “nah, he would’ve bragged about it if he did.”

you smile at that. taesan isn’t the bragging type, not really, but when it comes to things he loves, he can’t help but share them with you. you can already picture the way his eyes will light up when he sees the gift, the way he’ll trace the album cover with careful fingers before hugging you in that quiet, deliberate way of his.

this is good. this is exactly what you wanted.

you glance at sungho. “i think we’re on the right track.”

he smirks. “told you.”

you roll your eyes but can’t hide your grin.

this is going to be perfect.

if you can keep it a secret long enough.

you flip through the stacks carefully, the plastic sleeves crinkling under your fingertips as you skim the selection. rows of album covers stare back at you, some bold and vibrant, others muted and mysterious, each one a different piece of someone’s story.

sungho stands beside you, already pulling out records with ease, flipping them over to check editions and pressings like it’s second nature.

“how do you even know all this?” you ask, watching as he inspects a black-and-white cover, his eyes narrowing slightly before he shakes his head and puts it back.

he smirks. “taesan’s not the only one with taste, you know.”

you roll your eyes. “yeah, but you act like this is your second home.”

he hums, running his fingers along the edge of a shelf. “it kinda is. when i first moved into the dorms, i’d come to places like this just to kill time. got to know a lot about music that way.”

that makes sense. sungho has that effortless, older-brother energy, the kind that makes you feel like he’s always been one step ahead of everyone else. but even so, you know there’s more to it. something about the way he says it, like music was a comfort rather than just a hobby.

you glance down at the album in your hands. the artwork is dramatic, painted in deep reds and blacks, the kind of thing you could easily imagine taesan leaving out on his desk just because it looks cool. it was titled a fever you can’t sweat out this time, by panic at the disco

you hesitate. “what about this one?”

sungho looks over, and to your relief, he nods in approval. “solid pick. taesan likes them. they have that whole raw, gritty sound he’s into.”

you exhale, setting it aside in the growing pile of vinyls you’ve picked out. “good. i was kinda guessing.”

sungho snickers. “if you were completely guessing, you would’ve picked something embarrassing.”

you give him a flat look. “i wouldn’t do that.”

“you sure? no boyband vinyls hidden in that stack?”

“why are you acting like that would be a crime?”

he laughs, shaking his head. “nah, but taesan would probably combust.”

you grin at the thought. he probably would. his whole tough, brooding image crumbling the second someone dared to associate him with anything remotely bright and upbeat. you’ve teased him about it before, played pop songs in his presence just to watch him pretend he wasn’t listening.

but this isn’t about teasing him. this is about him.

you glance around the store, taking in the dim lighting, the faint sound of a record spinning in the background. a few other customers linger nearby, flipping through vinyls with the same careful reverence, but none of them seem rushed. it’s the kind of place taesan would get lost in, taking his time with every shelf, soaking in the atmosphere.

you wish he was here.

you shake the thought away before it can settle too deep.

“okay,” you say, straightening up. “i think i need at least one more.”

sungho scans the shelves before reaching over and pulling out a record without hesitation.

“this.”

you take it from him, studying the cover. it’s striking… american idiot by greenday.

“he’s been looking for this one,” sungho explains. “i remember him complaining about how it’s always out of stock.”

your chest warms. “then that’s perfect.”

sungho grins. “congrats, you officially have a good gift… or multiple”

you roll your eyes but can’t help but smile. “thanks for the approval.”

“anytime.”

you head to the counter, placing the records down carefully as the cashier rings them up. the prices make you wince a little. vinyl collecting is not cheap. but you don’t hesitate. taesan is worth it.

when you step back outside, the air feels cooler, a slight breeze brushing against your skin. sungho stretches beside you, squinting up at the sky.

“so,” he says. “how are you planning to give it to him?”

you blink. “uh. just... give it to him?”

he gives you a flat look. “you’re really bad at this.”

“excuse me?”

“c’mon,” he says. “you go through all this trouble, sneak around just to surprise him, and you’re just gonna hand it to him like it’s a bag of chips?”

you frown. “what am i supposed to do? make a scavenger hunt?”

“i mean, that would be funny.”

“sungho.”

he chuckles. “fine, fine. but at least make it a moment, you know? like, put them in a nice box or something. set the mood a little.”

you consider that. he’s right. you don’t just want this to be a casual exchange. you want taesan to feel how much this means.

“okay,” you say slowly. “i’ll think of something.”

sungho pats your shoulder. “good. because if you don’t, i’m telling him i helped.”

you gasp. “you wouldn’t.”

his grin is downright evil. “try me.”

you groan, shoving him lightly as he laughs.

but despite the teasing, there’s a warmth in your chest that wasn’t there before. because for all the effort, all the second-guessing, all the overthinking. you know this is the right thing to do.

you just hope taesan sees it that way, too.

you and sungho are now wandering the streets, bags in hand, the weight of them a constant reminder of what you're keeping from taesan. there's a knot in your stomach, anxiety creeping in at the thought of what will happen once you return to the dorm.

sungho notices you fidgeting with your phone, eyes flicking between your screen and the road ahead. "you've been checking your messages like every two seconds," he says with a knowing smile. "taesan giving you trouble?"

"i... i don’t know," you mutter, glancing at your phone again. "he hasn’t texted yet. i think he’s mad."

sungho snorts. "he’s always mad."

you roll your eyes but can't help the tension building inside you. it's not like taesan to be suspicious like this. sure, he's possessive at times, but you’ve always been upfront with him. today, though, everything feels off. you know he’s probably wondering where you are, especially after leaving so abruptly.

after a few more moments of walking, your phone buzzes in your hand. it’s a message from taesan.

you open it quickly, your heart dropping when you read the text.

taesan: where are you?

you can almost hear the frustration in his words, even though they’re so short. you hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond. the last thing you want is to reveal anything.

“everything okay?” sungho asks, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow.

“yeah,” you say quickly, typing back a response. "just... running… errands…"

you: just out. why?

you hit send and try to push the worry away. but it doesn’t help when your phone buzzes again, another message from taesan.

taesan: are you by yourself?

your stomach tightens. it feels like he’s fishing for something, trying to confirm his suspicions. you swallow hard. taesan doesn’t know you’re out with sungho. he probably thinks you’re just alone, maybe out with someone else. the thought of him jumping to conclusions makes you tense up.

“you need to tell him the truth, man,” sungho says, half-joking but still serious. “it’s gonna be hard to keep it up much longer.”

you bite your lip, looking at the text again. taesan doesn’t like being kept in the dark. but if you tell him you're out with sungho, there's no way you can keep the surprise a secret.

you: yeah, just me. out by myself.

you send the message quickly, almost immediately regretting it. the lie feels wrong in your gut, but you can’t risk ruining the surprise.

as soon as you hit send, another text from taesan comes through.

taesan: you didn’t tell me where you went. it’s weird, you know. don’t lie to me.

your heart sinks. this is exactly what you were afraid of. you can feel his frustration radiating through the words, even though they’re brief. taesan might not say it outright, but you know he’s pissed.

“is he mad?” sungho asks, eyes narrowing as he watches you.

“yeah,” you say quietly, looking at the screen again. “he thinks i’m lying.”

sungho tilts his head, his expression softening. “well, you kind of are...”

you groan, feeling guilty. “yeah, but if i tell him the truth, he’ll know what we’re really doing.”

sungho sighs but doesn’t press. “you’ve got to be careful, though. taesan can’t stand being lied to. he might feel like you’re hiding something else.”

you take a deep breath, trying to push the anxiety aside. “he’s just overthinking it. i’ll deal with it when we get back.”

you walk in silence for a bit longer, and the weight of the lie is starting to feel unbearable. but then your phone buzzes again. it’s from taesan.

taesan: riwoo just told me you’re out with sungho. why didn’t you say that?

your heart stops. it feels like everything is crashing down around you. of course, taesan would hear from riwoo. he always does. but you didn’t think it would happen so soon.

sungho laughs lightly, though it’s more nervous than anything else. “i mean, it’s not like you didn’t want him to find out.”

you stare at the message, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. “he’s so mad now...”

“you better fix it,” sungho says with a small chuckle. “he’s gonna blow up on you if you keep avoiding the truth.”

you sigh, rubbing your eyes. “i don’t know how to fix it. i’ve already lied twice.”

“well,” sungho says, “maybe you just gotta... tell him the truth at this point. no more hiding.”

but you’re not ready to do that. not yet. the surprise is too important to mess up now.

you type out a message, your hands shaking a little as you try to keep it steady.

you: i’m sorry. we just bumped into eachothee

you press send, waiting for taesan’s response with bated breath.

it takes a while, but finally, your phone buzzes.

taesan: it was a coincidence?

you let out a sigh of relief. it's not as bad as it could have been, but you still feel like you’ve messed up.

you: yeah, i went out to grab some stuff, and boom, sungho was there getting some stuff for the dorm too

you wait for a reply, and when it comes, it’s still not as angry as you expected, but you can hear the frustration in taesan’s words.

taesan: you know, you could’ve just told me. i don’t like when you hide stuff from me.

your heart drops, and you feel guilty again. you want to explain yourself, but you’re afraid it’ll make everything worse.

“he’s really pissed now,” you say quietly to sungho, who nods sympathetically.

“you should’ve just told him earlier,” he says, though his tone is more playful than critical. “now you gotta go back and fix it.”

you take a deep breath, realizing sungho’s right. you’re going to have to deal with the fallout when you get back to the dorm.

you decide on sungho’s dorm since taesan is rooming with woonhak and jaehyun so it would be perfect to wrap his gift all together and put final touched on it.

but once you open the door, you stand frozen at the door of sungho’s dorm, heart hammering in your chest. the moment taesan walks in, everything about the room shifts. his presence fills the space, and even though he’s not saying anything yet, you feel the weight of his gaze.

“so, this is where you’ve been?” taesan’s voice cuts through the silence. it’s sharper than usual, colder too. he looks at you, then at sungho, his eyes narrowing. “i thought you said you were by yourself.”

you feel your breath catch in your throat. his words hit harder than expected, but you force a smile, trying to keep your cool. “i was… i mean, i am.”

taesan tilts his head, his eyes scanning you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re lying. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “i just bumped into sungho, we were talking, and i guess riwoo saw us leave together.” you’re already regretting how this sounds, but you can’t back down now. you have to keep the lie intact.

“bumped into sungho?” taesan’s voice drips with suspicion. “so it’s just a coincidence you were both out together?”

you nod quickly, hoping he buys it. “yeah, we were just… talking, you know? nothing serious. i just didn’t want to bother you while you were busy.”

taesan crosses his arms, studying you with a sharp gaze. “that doesn’t sound right.”

the air between you two feels like it’s crackling with tension. you swallow hard, knowing you can’t let him get too suspicious. “it’s really nothing, taesan. you know i wouldn’t lie to you about this.”

“you wouldn’t, huh?” taesan says slowly, his tone soft but with a dangerous edge. “then why didn’t you just tell me? why go through all this just to cover up some… coincidence?”

you flinch slightly at his words, the guilt gnawing at you. but you won’t break. you can’t spoil the surprise now. not when everything is so close to being perfect.

“i didn’t want to bother you with the details,” you say, hoping he buys it. “i just figured i’d spend some time with sungho, that’s all.” you glance at sungho for a moment, but he’s standing still, like he’s unsure whether to step in.

taesan watches you for a long beat, and you can see the wheels turning in his mind. his expression hardens. “so you thought it’d be better to lie to me, to sneak around?”

your chest tightens, the weight of his words sinking in deeper than you expected. “taesan, it’s not like that.”

“really?” taesan’s voice rises, a hint of frustration creeping in. “because that’s exactly what it sounds like. i don’t know, it’s just hard to believe that you’re not hiding something. are you trying to cover something up?”

you feel your heart race. this is spiraling out of control, and you don’t know how to stop it. the last thing you want is for him to think you’re doing something behind his back.

“taesan, please,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “you’re overthinking this. i didn’t want to tell you because i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.” you force yourself to look him in the eye, trying to convey sincerity. “it’s nothing, really.”

taesan doesn’t respond right away. he’s still standing there, arms crossed, eyes cold as he studies you. you feel like he’s dissecting every word you’ve said, trying to figure out if you’re being honest or not.

“so what, this is all just some coincidence?” taesan asks again, voice dripping with doubt. “you just happened to be with sungho, and riwoo just happened to see you leaving together?”

you nod quickly, trying to sound convincing. “yeah, that’s it. it’s just a coincidence, taesan.”

taesan lets out a long breath, his frustration simmering just under the surface. he doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t push further. yet.

“you’re making this harder than it needs to be,” you say, trying to change the subject. “it’s nothing. seriously.”

taesan stays quiet, his eyes narrowing, still unconvinced. “i don’t know if i believe you, but fine. if you say so.”

there’s a moment of silence between you two, and you can almost feel the distance growing between you. you want to tell him the truth, but you can’t risk it. not yet.

“you didn’t need to lie to me, you know,” taesan says softly, his gaze softer but still guarded. “you could’ve just told me where you were. there wouldn’t have been any problem.”

“i know,” you say, your heart sinking. “but i didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

the moment you say it, you regret it. taesan’s eyes flash with confusion, but he doesn’t say anything. he just watches you, waiting.

“what surprise?” taesan asks, the suspicion back in his voice.

you hesitate, panic rising. you can’t tell him, not yet. not when you’re this close.

“it’s nothing,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “i just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

taesan’s gaze sharpens again. “you’re lying. i can tell.”

you want to scream, to tell him the truth, but you stay silent, your heart heavy with the pressure of it all.

“you’ve been hiding something from me, haven’t you?” taesan asks, his voice quiet now, as if he’s piecing everything together.

you look away, unable to meet his eyes. you can’t keep lying, but you can’t give in either. not yet.

“taesan, please,” you whisper. “just trust me. i don’t want to hurt you.”

he sighs, his expression softening just a little. “i trust you, but it’s hard when you keep lying to me. i just don’t get why you couldn’t tell me what was going on.”

you open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. your throat feels tight, and your mind is racing, trying to figure out how to get yourself out of this mess.

“i’m sorry,” you finally say, your voice barely audible. “i didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

taesan looks at you for a long moment, his face softening a bit. “it’s fine,” he says quietly. “but next time, just tell me. no more lies.”

you nod, relieved but still filled with guilt.

there’s a long silence, and then you finally reach into your bag and pull out the vinyl and the trinkets you picked out for him. you hold them out to him, your hands shaking.

“here,” you say softly, voice full of apology. “i got these for you. i… i thought you’d like them.”

taesan takes the items slowly, his expression unreadable. after a few moments, he looks up at you. “you didn’t have to do this,” he says, his voice softening. “but… thanks.”

you smile weakly, still feeling the weight of everything. “i’m sorry for making you mad.”

taesan sighs, stepping closer to you. “it’s okay. just promise me no more lies, alright?”

“promise,” you say quietly.

and for the first time in what feels like forever, the tension begins to melt away. taesan pulls you into a hug, and you let yourself relax, knowing that you’ll have to make things right.

but for now, you’re just grateful that he’s still here.

taesan is silent for a long time, just staring at the vinyls in his hands. his fingers trace over the covers, his expression unreadable.

you shift nervously, waiting for some kind of reaction. was this too much? was this not what he would’ve liked? sungho had assured you it was a good choice, but now, standing here with taesan’s gaze locked onto the gift, doubt creeps in.

“you really did all this for me?” taesan finally asks, voice quieter now.

you nod quickly. “of course i did. you just had a comeback, and i wanted to get you something that actually fit your taste. something you’d really like.”

he exhales slowly, his grip tightening around the vinyls for a second before he looks up at you. his expression has softened completely, the cold edge gone. instead, there’s something else… something warmer.

“you’re an idiot,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to his words. in fact, his lips twitch slightly, like he’s trying not to smile. “you could’ve just told me.”

“and ruin the surprise?” you huff, crossing your arms. “not a chance.”

taesan sighs, shaking his head. “you made me worry for nothing.”

“i didn’t mean to,” you mumble, guilt creeping back in.

he looks at you for another long second before stepping forward, wrapping his arms around you. his hold is firm, secure, like he’s grounding himself in your presence.

you blink, surprised at the sudden affection, but quickly melt into the embrace. his scent is familiar, and the warmth of his body makes all the stress from earlier fade.

“don’t do that again,” he mutters into your hair. “just tell me next time.”

you nod against his chest. “okay. i promise.”

he pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his dark eyes still holding a bit of lingering frustration. but it’s different now. less about suspicion, more about the fact that you worried him.

his eyes flicker to sungho, and his warmth disappears just slightly as he levels a glare at him. “and you,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

sungho raises his hands defensively. “hey, don’t look at me like that. i was just helping.”

“helping,” taesan repeats, clearly not convinced. “spending hours alone with y/n, keeping secrets, sneaking around.”

sungho rolls his eyes. “yeah, yeah, i get it. i’d be mad too. but it’s not like that.”

“doesn’t matter,” taesan grumbles, still glaring. “you still got too comfortable.”

you groan, tugging at his sleeve. “taesan, please. it’s not like we were on a date or something.”

taesan clicks his tongue but lets it go, instead looking back at the items in his hands. now that he’s actually processing it, his expression shifts, like he’s finally realizing what you got him, without the worry of why you were lying.

“wait,” he mutters, flipping it over. “this album… where did you find this?”

you grin. “special store sungho knew about. he helped me find the best ones.”

taesan pauses for a moment, then looks at you again, softer this time. “you really went through all this trouble just to get me something i’d like?”

you scoff. “of course i did. i love you, you idiot.”

his ears turn red. it’s subtle, but you notice it. he looks away, clearing his throat. “you’re the idiot,” he mumbles, gripping the vinyls like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “but… thanks.”

he pulls you into another hug, holding you tight, like he doesn’t want to let go.

and just like that, everything feels right again.

315 notes · View notes

sen-ya · 10 months ago

Text

Life After Info Post

[Click here to access the Life After Digital Comic Book]

Summary: Two years ago, a viral outbreak rose the dead. Considering how his life had gone up to this point, surgeon Trafalgar Law figured this might as well happen too. When a supply run into the nearby city gets intercepted by a seemingly reckless and impulsive former patient, the dependable routine Law had settled into in this new life shatters. He finds himself exposed — his body out in the infected landscape, his conscious clawing to define what he believes is right, his heart begrudgingly deciding to find a new home on his sleeve. Maybe there’s more than a virus roaming the new world that can bring a dead man back to life.

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, zombies/body horror (but lbr I am not good at making scary things look scary)

Relationships: Luffy x Law

Update Schedule: New page every Monday/Wednesday/Friday

Page Count: [37 posted | 55 drawn]

Latest Update: [7/21/24] WOWEE did I get myself carried away this morning. I just spent 5 hours organizing my comics and creating the digital comic book pages. I could have spent that time drawing or idk not doing what I do for my job, but I cannot be stopped. Anyway I blocked out 30 pages of this comic last week and they include the most intense action sequence I've ever done in my gotdang life. Wish me luck because I am nervous about tying down all my drawings lmao.

OLD UPDATES:

[6/29/24] HULLO! I'm doing so bad at keeping my masterposts updated lately I am sorry. All pages of life after are tagged life after if you're ever looking between masterpost updates! Also exciting update, I finally have figured out all the different plot points i'm gonna be hitting (yay!). I got hung up on something for awhile that made me not wanna work on this project, but I'm back at it. I think we'll end up with 6-7 parts! I have probably another 80-100 pages to draw lol. Also i got the app Magic Poser and it's AWESOME and I immediately used it to block out sets cuz MAN I hate backgrounds.

[6/10/24] HELLO. I'm sorry I've been shit at updating my masterposts lately. It's easiest to do from my computer, which I rarely use, and life has been happening. I also can't believe I bungled the queue and posted pg19 before pg18 i am very sorry 🤦 Eventually I'll have to turn this into an airtable base I'm sure, but until that day comes where I have like 100 pages of this comic we're stickin to the regular post lmao

[5/26/23] I got real caught up in doing summer of lawlu comics this week and this is the first week since the first week of April I haven't drawn new Life After pages and it feels weird 🙊

[5/19/24] More Luffy backstory comin' this week! :^)

[5/12/24] Updating now so get myself on schedule to update on Sundays like I had been with my other comic master post!

[5/8/24] Thank you to everyone who's liked/reblogged/comment on the first few pages!! It means the world to me that anyone's reading my silly little comics.

[4/28/24] HULLO. It’s happeninnng. I’ve spent the last few weeks working on this comic, and I gotta make this post so I can start queuing pages & link this in them! This is the most like….legit? Comic endeavor I’ve undertaken perhaps….ever. I’m very nervous about committing to how long it will need to be lol. This story is dear to my heart — zombie content is kind of my very favorite. I’ve always found it to be a great backdrop for exploring themes like grief, coping with change, community, and learning to live again. It’ll be a long haul but I hope you’ll ride it out with me!! Tomorrow I’ll be posting the first two pages. After that a page will post every Monday/Wednesday/Friday. As of this post I’ve completed over 20 pages so that I have a good lead on what’s posting and continuing to write, so I’m hopeful that’s a cadence I’ll be able to maintain. I’ll update this post weekly to include the most recent pages the way I do with my main comics master post. All pages will be tagged 'Life After' and I'll tag any pages with zombies in them with 'zombie' for blacklisting etc.

#my art #life after

387 notes · View notes

2996-sana · 1 year ago

Text

a not so spicy confession

summary: when Y/N's secret crush on Sana becomes too much to bear

beneath the old tree in the university courtyard, nayeon nudged you, a smirk playing on her lips. "you've got a serious staring problem," she teased.

you rolled your eyes and shot back, "oh, shut up. no, i don't."

chilling on a bench, jihyo joined in, nodding towards the other side of the courtyard where sana, your long-time crush, was minding her business. "yeah, the only time she has a staring problem is when sana is around," jihyo chuckled.

nayeon, with a sly grin, added her two cents. "you know, y/n, if you weren't such a coward, you wouldn't be just staring at her from afar." she shook her head in mock disappointment.

you scoffed, defending yourself, "i'm not a coward. i just... appreciate the view, okay?"

jihyo shot you a skeptical look. "appreciate the view? come on, it's been, like, forever. just go talk to her."

you shook your head, a resigned smile on your face. "nah, it's never gonna happen. sana won't be interested anyway."

nayeon smirked knowingly, "or maybe she's waiting for you to make a move, but you're just stuck in 'appreciating the view' mode."

you scoffed again, tossing a playful punch at nayeon's arm, "come on, you guys know as well as i do that sana's got a line of admirers longer than the coffee queue in the morning. why would she bother with me?"

jihyo playfully rolled her eyes, a dramatic sigh escaping her lips. "y/n, it pains me to say this, but you're actually pretty cute. it's not too far-fetched for her to be into you."

nayeon, lost in thought for a moment, suddenly perked up with excitement. "oh, that's right! remember that one time in junior year when sana asked me about you? she was like, 'hey, is y/n in class? i wanted to ask her something.' and i was like, 'why don't you ask her yourself?'"

your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "wait, what? junior year? why didn't you tell me about this before?"

nayeon, with a sheepish grin, replied, "it just randomly popped into my head now. but seriously, y/n, you've got to give yourself more credit!"

jihyo jumped back into the conversation, her tone teasing. "see, y/n? sana's not just asking about anyone. you've got her intrigued."

before you could reply, you caught the sound of sana's laugh, echoing from her table with mina and momo. nayeon nudged you, smirking, "well, there's your girl."

your cheeks turned a shade of pink. "yeah, yeah, not a big deal."

sana, mina, and momo had been tight since their move from japan, sticking together like glue throughout university. sana's laugh kept ringing out, and you couldn't help but think back to when sana's laugh had first captivated you. you wondered if, just maybe, you could ever be the reason behind that infectious laughter.

just then, jeongyeon arrived at your table. "hey, are you guys hitting up miyeon's party tomorrow night?" she asked, munching on a boiled egg.

nayeon and jihyo nodded simultaneously. "of course! you bet we'll be there, and don't worry, we're dragging y/n along too," nayeon declared with a mischievous grin.

you rolled your eyes. "yeah, yeah. i was planning to go anyway. got a ton of free time this week."

jeongyeon sighed, chewing on her boiled egg. "ugh, i wish i had free time. my super-intense calculus prof is trying to kill us with assignments."

fast forward to the day of the party, nayeon swung by your apartment, exclaiming, "ready to see your girlfriend tonight?"

you rolled your eyes as you entered the car, "sana’s not my girlfriend.”

jeongyeon giggled, "who said we were talking about sana?"

nayeon couldn't resist teasing, "you keep denying it, but the heart wants what it wants, y/n. maybe tonight's the night sana will realize you’re her soulmate."

you chuckled, "sana and i barely know each other."

jihyo joined in, "yeah, but strangers can become friends, and friends can become more than that, you know? especially at a party with the right mood and a touch of magic in the air."

nayeon added, "you know, we're all graduating soon. you might regret not making a move."

jeongyeon and jihyo chimed in agreement, teasing you more about missed opportunities and what-ifs. you, lost in thought, couldn't help but consider the possibilities.

as you arrived at the party, dahyun greeted you at the door with infectious energy, exclaiming, "what's up, what's up, party peopleeee! prepare yourselves for a night of epic proportions!"

you guys couldn't help but laugh at dahyun's lively entrance, and as you made your way inside, she continued her entertaining banter and turned to you, “unnie, grab your dancing shoes because tonight we're going to break it down on the dance floor! and if you see miyeon, give her a high-five for throwing the party of the century!"

you amused by dahyun’s obvious drunkenness turned to your junior and patted her on the head, "well, if the night's as epic as your intro, dahyun, we're in for a wild ride.”

as the night marched on, you could feel the drinks weaving a tipsy tapestry around you. laughter bubbled through the air, but amidst the cheerful chaos, your eyes kept searching for a familiar face in the lively crowd – sana.

then, you spotted her: sana, sporting the cutest brown shirt that hugged all the right places, and those glasses, a rare accessory that added an extra layer of charm. you couldn't help but marvel at how sana seemed to be the standout beauty of the night.

nayeon, with her knack for reading between the lines, couldn't resist a playful jab. "well, well, what's got you all starry-eyed? is it the snacks or someone special catching your gaze?"

jihyo and jeongyeon, sensing an opportunity for some good-natured teasing, joined in. "if you don't act fast, dex might swoop in and steal the spotlight. you wouldn't want to miss your chance forever," jeongyeon teased, the mention of dex causing a subtle shift in your mood.

suddenly, amidst the laughter and teasing, you found yourself feeling a bit low. another shot seemed like a good idea, a temporary escape from the self-doubt and lingering 'what-ifs.'

despite the lively atmosphere, you couldn't shake off a twinge of sadness. the wish to gather the courage and strike up a conversation with sana weighed heavily on you.

nayeon, always the instigator, added more fuel to the playful fire. "come on, y/n! if you don't make a move, dex is going to steal the show, and you'll be left with a bag of 'what-ifs' to ponder over in your graduation cap!"

jihyo chimed in, "you'll regret it if you don't try. plus, it's a party! everyone's a bit buzzed; it's the perfect time!"

jeongyeon, with a conspiratorial grin, added, "you've got nothing to lose and a whole lot to gain.”

despite the encouraging words, your mind swirled with uncertainty. the mention of dex stirred a pang of jealousy you hadn't anticipated, prompting you to reach for another shot, hoping it would wash away the brewing storm inside. dex, the self-proclaimed admirer of sana. he made it known to everyone that sana was his ideal girl, and you couldn't help but scoff at the thought. after all, sana was your dream girl too, so dex wasn't exactly special. yet, you had witnessed how sana gave dex the time of day, even flirting with him a bit.

the night continued, and as you downed more shots, the liquid courage only seemed to fuel the internal struggle. the pulsating music, contagious laughter, and shared moments faded into the background as you grappled with the weight of indecision and the fear of missing out.

an hour later, you found yourself feeling pretty drunk, so you decided it was time to take a breather. you excused yourself, stumbling a bit, and made your way to the kitchen, hoping that some water and maybe a snack could work their magic. as you stepped into the kitchen, though, you couldn't believe your eyes—there was dex, boldly talking up sana. this sight, for some reason, ignited a spark of annoyance within you.

summoning every ounce of sober energy you had left, you marched up to dex and sana. you cleared your throat dramatically and declared, "you guys wouldn’t make a cute couple, you know."

sana burst into laughter, a warm sound that filled the room. "y/n? you okay?" she asked, a playful glint in her eye. on the other hand, dex looked puzzled and muttered, "i think she's drunk."

you, determined to prove your sobriety, straightened up and insisted, "i'm not drunk. and even if i were, trust me, any clear-headed person could see you two wouldn't be cute together."

dex, still trying to process your bold statement, stammered, "uh, why not?"

you fired back, "well, dex, you're like a plain sandwich, and sana deserves a five-star meal. no offense, of course."

sana, thoroughly amused at the unfolding scene, exchanged an amused glance with dex, who seemed utterly perplexed by your sudden proclamation. "you're a riot, y/n," sana teased, suppressing a laugh.

dex, still looking baffled, just shrugged, and sana, with a playful smile, said, "excuse us for a moment, dex. i think y/n needs a bit of fresh air."

as sana led you out of the kitchen, you couldn't help but mutter, "i am sober, you know."

sana chuckled, "sure, y/n, of course, you are."

while climbing the stairs, sana continued to giggle, and with a teasing smile, she added, "you're the soberest person i've ever seen."

you reached what you assumed was miyeon's room but you couldn’t really process anything right now, and sana gently guided you to the bed. sana gently asked, "do you know where nayeon, jihyo, or jeongyeon is?”

sana, grabbing her phone, seemed to be in the process of contacting one of them to come to your rescue.

in the midst of this, you couldn't shake the feeling of regret creeping in. you blurted out, "are you upset with me? i mean, i interrupted you, right?"

sana, still calm and collected, assured you, "no, not upset. just want to make sure you're okay."

you knew you were gonna regret all of this tomorrow but, fueled by the liquid courage coursing through her, you decided you didn't care about the impending consequences. your world could crumble tomorrow; tonight was for saying whatever you wanted.

in the haze of inebriation, you couldn't help but make a lighthearted comment, "i have a talent for messing things up spectacularly, huh."

sana giggled, "well, you did add a bit of drama to the party, that's for sure."

sana sighed, her attempts to reach nayeon, jihyo, or jeongyeon proving unsuccessful. she turned to you, a concerned look on her face, and asked, "will you be okay staying here for a while? i can't seem to contact any of them."

you, still feeling a bit woozy, nodded and managed a small smile, "yeah, sure. it's fine."

"great," sana replied, a playful glint in her eye. "so, am i staying with you?" she asked, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

you couldn't help but blush at sana's words. "uh, yeah, sure. you can stay," you stammered.

sana giggled at your adorable reaction, then her expression turned thoughtful. "hey, remember that five-star meal comment from earlier? what was that about?"

you groaned in embarrassment, burying your face in your hands. "can we please forget about it?”

sana, however, was not one to let things go easily. she nudged you, still grinning, and asked, "is there someone you think is a five-star meal?"

you, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, mumbled, "no one, really. it was just a silly thing i said."

but sana persisted, a mischievous glint in her eye, "come on, spill the beans. i want to know who's a five-star meal in your book."

you, still blushing, let out an exasperated laugh. "okay, fine, if i have to pick someone, it's you, okay? happy now?"

sana's eyes sparkled with delight, and she responded with a charming grin, "well, thank you for the compliment. you're not so bad yourself, you know."

sana seeing you blushing pushed even more, “so, y/n, if you were to pick someone who's worthy of me, who would it be?"

you groaned, realizing sana's playful challenge. "i don't know, maybe someone who matches your vibe?"

sana's smile widened, and she playfully poked your nose. "that's a good answer, but you're not getting away that easily. come on, anyone in particular?"

still oblivious to sana's underlying intentions, you thought for a moment and then shrugged. "i don't know, sana. you're pretty amazing. i can't think of anyone else."

sana shifted her gaze, looking at you as if she were analyzing and trying to read you. after a moment, she spoke with a knowing tone, "you like me, don't you?"

you were taken aback, your eyes widening. “what do you mean?"

sana only laughed, a musical sound that danced through the air. "i can tell, y/n. mina and momo notice it a lot too when you're staring. i think it's cute."

now thoroughly embarrassed, you stammered, "i-i don't know what you're talking about. i mean, why would i—"

sana interrupted, her laughter contagious, "relax, y/n. besides, it's not like it's a big secret."

trying to regain your composure, you managed a nervous laugh. "i didn't think it was that obvious."

sana, still wearing that mischievous grin, pushed further, "so, when you mentioned the five-star meal earlier, were you referring to yourself?"

your face turned an even deeper shade of red. "what? no!"

sana interrupted playfully, "come on, y/n, don't be shy. besides, if you think you're a five-star meal, who am i to argue?"

sana's expression softened, and she looked at you with a warmth that sent shivers down your spine. "you know, y/n, in case you were wondering, i don't mind at all."

still trying to process everything, you mumbled, "i... uh, i didn't think you'd notice."

sana winked, "i notice a lot more than you think. and i gotta say, it’s flattering. makes me feel special."

you couldn't help but smile, the tension easing. "well, i guess i can't hide anything from you."

sana leaned back, a thoughtful expression on her face. "you really shouldn't try to hide these things, y/n. life's too short for secrets."

you nodded, "yeah, you're right."

sana, with a glint of mischief in her eyes, issued a challenge. "y/n, can you say it?"

you were appalled. "say what?"

sana grinned, "that you like me. out loud."

you protested, "why do i have to say it? it's practically implied. i'm sure you know!"

sana, undeterred, playfully challenged her, "come on, y/n. it's different when you say it. try it."

you sighed, feeling cornered. "fine. i like you, okay?"

sana's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she teased, "such a charmer, y/n."

you rolled your eyes. sana, still wearing that playful grin, leaned even closer, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. she smiled sweetly and said, "i have another challenge for you, y/n.”

"another challenge? what is it?"

sana's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "take me out on a date."

you couldn't help but blush, the realization sinking in. "are you saying... i have a chance?"

sana nodded, her gaze unwavering. "more than a chance, y/n.”

you felt a mix of excitement and disbelief, and managed a shy smile. "i never expected this."

sana leaned even closer, "i guess life is full of surprises, especially the ones that make your heart race a bit faster."

that’s when you realized that taking a chance on love – no matter how unconventional – can lead to the most extraordinary adventures (and to having the prettiest girlfriend in the room).

so, to anyone out there with a crush, just confess. you never know – you might end up with a girl like sana who thinks you're the missing piece to their puzzle. and if they reject you, just pretend it was a dare or blame it on a sudden urge for honesty. works like a charm.

#twice x reader #twice imagines #sana x reader #minatozaki sana x reader #twice sana

438 notes · View notes

turcott3 · 1 year ago

Text

homesick

trevor zegras and platonic jamie drysdale x fem! reader

warnings?: sad af tbh!, angst, cursing but ofc fluff

masterlist

“what?” you spoke into the phone.

“he picked up the phone and they told him he was going to philly in the morning. no warning or anything. completely blindsided.” trevor explains to you.

“i cannot believe that, is he okay?” you ask.

“he’s shocked, we all are.”

“i bet. i’m so sorry trevor.” you say trying to comfort your boyfriend.

“it’s okay, i just wish it wasn’t so sudden.”

“well, tell jamie i wish him the best and that ill miss making breakfast with him every morning.”

“you can call him, that feels too personal don’t wanna invade.” he forces a laugh.

“okay ill call him tomorrow. get back to your friends babe, try to have a good night okay?”

“okay i will, love you y/n.”

“love you trev, bye.”

“bye.” he hangs up. you sat staring off into space. your mind spinning uncontrollably. they just shipped off your boyfriends best friend. scratch that, your best friend, besides trevor of course. you turn on the tv to whatever was on distracting yourself from the thoughts invading your mind, clouding the good day you had. finally, you allow yourself to cry, knowing your last goodbye to jamie was truly your last and that he wouldn’t be returning.

“what the fuck.” you say crying more, wishing someone was around you could talk to. you say for hours lost in your thoughts, watching tv without paying any attention. at this point it was late enough so you took yourself to bed, heart heavy at the thought of having to call jamie in the morning. though falling asleep was easy, waking up was the worst feeling in the world. you picked up your phone quickly, scrolling through your contacts to find jamie’s name, hitting call. the phone only rang twice before he picked up.

“hello?” he says, voice sounding weak.

“hey jimmy, how are you feeling?”

“i’m okay, i’m in philly now. i’m getting ready to head to the rink. i’m a little nervous but i talked to cam and he reassured me.”

“good i’m glad, im gonna miss you so much jamie.”

“i miss you too y/n, gonna miss our early morning breakfast making.” he laughs softly, a bittersweet smile spreading on my face.

“yeah, yeah ill really miss that too. singing ‘unwritten’ will never be the same without you.”

“damn you’re right, listening to that song will never hit like it did when we were making pancakes every morning.”

“i’m gonna miss that so much, well i don’t wanna keep you for too long. call me if you need anything okay? i know this is gonna be tough.”

“i will, thank you y/n.”

“of course, bye jamie.”

“bye.” he says before hanging up. your heart sank at his tone but could sense his hopefullness that they wouldn’t give up on him like anaheim had.

you say on the couch, watching trevor play with a heavy heart. you could practically smell it through the tv. you’d spoken to him briefly but he avoided the topic of jamie, it was still a touchy subject for him. next thing you know, trevor falls, hitting the boards awkwardly.

“fuck.” you say, watching him unable to get up without assistance, your heart breaking all over again. the trainer escorted him to the locker room, the pit in your stomach growing larger.

“please be okay, please be okay.” you say sighing.

“trevor zegras will not return to tonight’s game.” you hear the commentators say, you sigh shutting your eyes, waiting for the phone to ring and almost on queue it begins.

“y/n?”

“trevor are you okay? what’s going on?”

“i don’t know i just fell and i did something and then i couldn’t skate off the ice and i-“

“trevor stop, slow down. take a breath honey. you’re gonna make yourself sick.” you say stopping him.

“i don’t know what to do y/n.”

“do you want me to come to nashville?”

“no no you don’t need to, i think i may just come back to anaheim if i can’t play next game.”

“call me as soon as you know.” you say biting your nails.

“i promise i will, ill call you once they evaluate me.”

“okay, love you trevor.”

“love you too, bye.” he says and you hang up, slamming your phone down on the couch tears instantly spilling from your eyes, your hands instantly covering your face.

“i can’t fucking do this.” you cry, trying to catch your breath as your phone begins to ring, jamie’s name coming into the screen.

“hello?” you say weakly.

“i saw what happened and i wanted to check up on you. how you holding up?”

“i’m a fucking mess jamie.” you say sobbing.

“oh y/n, i’m so sorry. i wish i could be there with you.” he says apologetically.

“it’s okay, everything’s gonna be okay.” you say out loud to yourself.

“do you have any updates?” he asks.

“no he said he would call me after he gets evaluated.” you say sniffling.

“okay, do you want me to stay on the phone until then? i can facetime you, that’s better than nothing.”

“yes, please do.” you say and he presses the facetime button, you picking up immediately.

“sorry i look awful right now,” you say wiping your nose.

“hey no, don’t worry. you’re going through a lot right now.”

you stayed on the phone with jamie for the next two hours, appreciating him spending time on the phone with you instead of getting to know his new city.

“jamie i gotta go. z is calling, i’ll text you with updates.”

“okay, goodnight y/n.”

“goodnight jamie.” you say hanging up and picking up trevor’s call.

“so?” you ask.

“can you pick me up from the airport in the morning?” he asks, your heart sinking into your stomach.

“yes i can.”

“thank you baby, i’m so sorry about all of this.”

“it’s okay. are you okay?”

“i’m not playing, won’t know what’s wrong until i come home and go see team doc.”

“okay okay, what time?” you ask.

“7 am, cali time.”

“jesus thats in,” you look at the time, “11 hours.”

“i’m sorry for the short notice, i didn’t think this would happen.”

“it’s okay no worries at all okay? i’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“okay, i love you.” he says

“i love you too, bye trevor.” you say hanging up. texting jamie about picking him up in the morning. with the early wake up time, you take yourself to bed and crash instantly. the sadness had exhausted you. it seems like just as you went to sleep your alarm was already going off. you groaned at the sound, sliding your shoes on and heading out the door without caring for your appearance. feeling selfish for being this down when it’s not even happening to you. your drive to the airport was smooth, trevor texting you that he’d landed a few minutes ago as you pull into the airport arrival lane, him waiting patiently with his foot in a boot. you stop and get out of the car to hug him, crying instantly.

“hey hey i’m here now, let’s go home okay?” he says holding you tightly. you put his things in the car and drive off, back to your apartment. the car ride was completely silent as you gathered your composure. once you arrive you help him bring his stuff in and help him into bed.

“did you sleep?” you ask laying down next to him.

“no.” he says looking over at you, looking beat down.

“get some sleep baby.” you say pulling yourself to his side, combing your fingers through his hair.

“i can’t sleep y/n,” he said, his voice breaking, “god damnit.” he says breaking down in tears, your hands catching his face as he looked down.

“talk to me trevor, get it out.”

“well for starters, it was my 200th game and i didn’t even make it through the first period and my best friend got traded across the country all within 24 hours. life couldn’t possibly get any worse. this is the lowest i have ever felt.” he explained, getting everything off his chest.

“i know it’s hard honey, i’ve cried about 50 times in the last 24 hours. my heart is broken for you. all i can do is be here for you and listen and i feel like that’s still not even enough.”

“it is enough, it’s just a tough time right now. for both of us it seems.” he giggles, placing a hand around my waist.

“well i love you, i’m here for you baby. don’t hold back anything you’re feeling, not until you’re better. it sucks that jamie is gone but we still have each other! i know that’s not like the greatest but it’s something.”

“you know, you are the best girlfriend ever.” he smiles weakly, pulling you onto his lap and wiping the few tears that left your eyes.

“i just feel terrible about all of this.” you say to him.

“there’s nothing you could’ve done, it’s okay.” he says hugging you to his chest.

“this was not on my 2024 bingo card.” you sniffled, laughing lightly.

“it wasn’t on mine either but here we are.” he says hugging onto me tightly. you stayed on his chest until you felt yourself grow tired, eyes getting heavier by the second. not a word was said as you drifted off to sleep. trevor stayed awake, holding onto you as it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

“i love you more than you’ll ever know.” he whispers into your hair, kissing your head sweetly as his hands rubbed your back gently.

when you woke up and rolled off of the boy who was fast asleep, trying not to wake him up. you grabbed your phone off the charger and walked into the kitchen, opening your phone to a missed call from jamie about 20 minutes ago. you click on the notification to call him back and he picks up instantly.

“hello?” he says.

“yes jamie hi, what’s up?”

“do you have a minute?”

“yeah i just got up, are you okay?”

“yeah i think it’s all starting to process now and i’m so emotional. like i just up and left my home with my two best friends. how can i just live like this so suddenly? i made breakfast and it wasn’t even good.” he explains, his voice wavering.

“oh jamie,” you say, “it’s gonna be okay. i promise it will be. they love you.”

“i’m sure ill get used to it soon it’s just such an unexpected change, i don’t know what i’m doing.” he says sending you through all of your emotions at once.

“i understand, even though we aren’t physically there we are always here for you jam. we love you so so much.”

“i love you guys too.”

“i’m also about to make breakfast for the first time without you, i don’t really know how to feel.” you laugh realizing what you had walked into the kitchen to do.

“well i’ll let you go so you can perfect your pancakes as always. bye y/n.”

“bye jam.” you say hanging up the phone and bringing out all the ingredients. you do your typical routine, humming ‘unwritten’, your favorite song. suddenly a wall of emotions hit you and tears begin to fall without warning.

“our breakfast song.” you say to yourself, recalling that you and jamie had sang this together every morning.

“smells good.” trevor says walking out of the room, your back fortunately facing away from him.

“thank you.” you force out, sounding mostly normal.

“pancakes?” he asks.

“yep.” you reply flipping the last one. you plate it and turn around, revealing your red and puffy face to your boyfriend.

“woah,” he says getting up off the bar stool and rounding the counter, “what’s going on?”

“trevor im so tired.” you cry and he wraps you in his arms.

“i know i know.” he says holding you tightly.

“i feel so empty, ive been here for you, for jamie, for everyone and no one has sat and listened to me. im so tired.” you cry even more into his chest.

“i didn’t know you felt that way, im so sorry if you felt like you couldn’t talk to me baby.”

“it’s okay, it’s a rough time for you i didn’t wanna push too hard but i can’t say i wasn’t upset.”

“don’t dismiss your own feelings just because i’m going through something. we’re in this together.” he says pulling away slightly, brushing strands of hair from your face.

“okay.” you say, your sobs finally subsiding.

“i love you.” he says kissing your gently on the forehead.

“i love you too trev.” you say smiling at the gesture, wrapping yourself back in his embrace.

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x y/n #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #anaheim ducks #mason mctavish #turcs’ talk #turcs <3 #duck duo

263 notes · View notes

authenticmiya · 10 months ago

Text

Boston - Chris Sturniolo x Reader

Summary - Based off of the song ‘Austin’ by Dasha. You were Highschool sweethearts and suddenly that all went away.

Words - 1.6k

Warnings - angst /small mention of alcohol

“We had a plan, move out of this town, baby

West to the sand, it's all we talked about lately

I'd pack the car, bring your guitar and jane for smokin'

First thing at dawn, you'd queue the songs and we'd get goin'

But you weren't home, waited on the porch for ya

Sat there alone, all throughout the morn' 'til I

Got a hunch down in my gut and snuck around the back

Empty cans and I'll be damned, your shit was never packed”

"We hit twenty five thousand subscribers baby." Chris declared excitedly as he burst into his room. You were just chilling, awaiting the finish of the triplets' filming.

"No fucking way!" Excitedly jumping up, he embraced you into his arms.

"I'm so proud of you." You whispered, treasuring the moment as their success was very evident.

"We're gonna be in LA sooner than you think." And that was the promise you knew he'd keep. The problem was, that sentence would have the worst outcome in the future.

"Wrap around porch with a puppy?" He nodded excitedly, oh the plans you guys had ready and waiting. They had been planned for the years you'd been together.

It wasn't unknown that being around the Sturniolo household was a daily ritual. You guys were known as the 'Highschool Sweethearts'. How cliché?

"YouTube is kicking off for us and so will your music Y/N." Chris couldn't stop embracing you, excitement yet anxiety filling both of you. That was potentially the most gut wrenching memory to think about. All of the empty promises and plans.

Just like that, a couple of months had gone by. The 'Highschool Sweethearts' seemingly both on board with the thought of going back and forth to LA. They had hit just short of 500k. You had a label willing to sign you in LA. It was all falling into place and before you knew it, the days were building up to the ultimate move across the states.

"I really hope you know what decisions you're making Y/N. I feel like this is all very overwhelming and too good to be true." Your best friend declared and you looked at her funnily.

"I'm not laughing, has Chris even replied to your last eight messages about your flight tomorrow?" And come to think of it, no he hadn't. But he was definitely just busy finalising his packing, wasn't he?

"I'm going to walk to their house after I add the finishing touches to my suitcases. I tried texting Matt but he's not answering either..." Your thinking face came on immediately but quickly faded when you thought there was nothing to worry about.

"He's definitely just sorting stuff out." You muttered.

"We've been together for nearly three years, I don't think he's having doubts." Defending him again.

"I never said anything about him having doubts, that's on you." And so she left you to your own device of figuring out what really was going on with your boyfriend. She wasn't angry, of course not. However, best friends - true best friends always have the better instinct on situations regarding those they care about.

With Travis Scott blasting through your AirPods, your walk to the Sturniolo household began. It was nearing 2pm. Their parents' cars weren't in the drive once you arrived but the minivan was. You had pre-warned quite literally all three of the triplets that you were on your way over, none replied but Chris had the audacity to leave it on read.

"I'm on your porch and you're ignoring me." Sadness suddenly waved across you. What was the real reason none of them were answering?

"Chris?" You knocked on the door. After a solid 45 minutes, your heart was practically hung. There was one last option, head around the back. What a terrible option to pick, you should've just made your way home.

"What the fuck?" Mixed cans of Pepsi, BUD Light and Dr Pepper pretty much everywhere and what sounded like a Bluetooth speaker somewhere in the back yard. What hurt the most was three very familiar voices could be heard, those of whom had ignored you all damn day.

The question was, do you or do you not go in and make your hurt known to all of them?

"Y/N?" Torn from your heartbroken thoughts, Nate noticed you were there and called you out in front of everyone. Making solid eye contact with Chris, he was like a deer in headlights.

"So, this is what you guys have been up to today?" You questioned, an eyebrow quirked in confusion. If it wasn't awkward before, it definitely was now.

"I wanted to call you-" Nick began but was cut short.

"Boys night." Chris stated.

"It's 2pm Chris, hardly a boys night."

"Well we're continuing this through the night." Why was he being so blunt?

"Are you guys all packed and ready for LA at least?" The colour drained from Nicks face, Matt remained silent and Chris was damn right being rude.

"Your shits not even packed?" Everything you were saying seemed to be going over his head.

"Stop fucking ignoring me Chris!" The band had snapped but you were the one breaking.

"Are we going as a team? A couple? A fucking pair of friends? Are we going together at all?" You deemed an answer.

"Jesus Christ Y/N, I can't do this with you anymore. We're gonna be social media influencers and you're gonna jet off on world tours. We've changed, it's not gonna work." Chris' words felt like venom. The cat really had your tongue. Not to forget that he had just called you out in front of everyone both you and him cared about.

"You can't be serious..." You're too strong to cry in front of him, surely you're too strong to cry in front of him.

"Deadly." He stated coldly.

"We might be on the same flight out there but we're not jetting off to the same life like we had here." His triplet brothers were always going to side with him but they had awfully guilty looks as they watched this whole scene unfold in front of them.

"That's it? You're just going to give up on us? You've not even made it to the West Coast and LA has already gotten to your head? What about the wrap around porch?" You didn't even have it in you to stay any longer, the tears were threatening to fall and that was enough to send you running home. Chris had a flash of sadness cover his face but he quickly subsided this, not wanting to let his 'guard' down.

"There's no way that's what just happened." Nick was out of words, confused by his brother and heartbroken for you, his so called best friend.

"Well it did, let's turn up the music."

That was the last you heard from all of them. Chris unfollowing you on Instagram just before boarding your shared flight. Of course without a secure clarification of whether you to were together but it was evident now. If LA was going to be the fresh start then hitting that big red block button was also on your list. You just couldn't do it.

In the studio, a few weeks later.

"Y/N you can take five if the chorus is too much." Your manager politely offered.

"This is the verse, the sealed deal, I'm not backing out of it." You'd gotten a bigger following in a short amount of time. Having one single already teased seemed to bring you lots of attention. Writing songs based on your personal experiences were becoming both a blessing and a curse.

“Did your boots stop workin'?

Did your truck break down?

Did you burn through money?

Did your ex find out?

Where there's a will, then there's a way

And I'm damn sure you lost it

Didn't even say goodbye

Just wish I knew what caused it

Was the whiskey flowin'?

Were you in a fight?

Did the nerves come get you?

What's your alibi?

I made my way back to LA

And that's where you'll be forgotten

In forty years you'll still be here

Drunk washed up in Boston”

You’d proudly gone over your chorus multiple times very well and without tears. The first time you’d written down the lyrics and actually sang them out loud was very different. The feelings and emotions of the situation with Chris really became a reality.

“Y/N, this is gonna be one hell of a fucking hit!” Your manager screeched. Reaching LA, your genre of music was solely gonna be based on your personal preference.

“Hell of a bluff, you had me believin'

How many months did you plan on leavin'?

What happened? Bad habits?

Did you go back? Go batshit?

I loved you, how tragic, oh-oh”

After wrapping up in the studio, you headed straight home. Thankfully you were successful in renting out a 2 bedroom apartment. Of course being in the upcoming limelight was a dream come true but deep down, it was lonely. Three people completely missing out on what would be your success. After a warm bath and some listening to snippets of your single, you couldn’t help but check up on the Sturniolo’s social media’s.

Very quickly, it was a deep regret. They were ‘happy’ and it hurt like hell. Why couldn’t you have all been happy together?

“Alexa why are you fucking playing Kelly Clarkson right now?” You grew emotional, bringing your kneels to your chest as you rested in the sofa.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite get that.”

“Fuck you.” You muttered.

“Y/N, your song already had two million hits. They’re going to play it on the radio!” You were quick to burst into cheers and tears as your team surrounded you. Your manager silenced everyone and turned the radio up.

“Here we have the new and quite frankly, most requested upcoming artist. This is Boston by Y/N. Her song debuted just three days ago with her team telling us that she worked incredibly hard.” As the song played on the radio, it all became surreal. The small town Boston girl who had always dreamed about this, finally got her wish. One of the producers wrapped you into a hug as you began sobbing.

“You done it and you deserve it, here’s to Y/N!” That night, they had informed you that there was a party. This was all for you to celebrate not only your single, but your future to! Applying the final touches of mascara, your phone pinged.

Instagram

christophersturniolo sent you a message: Boston?

#Chris Sturniolo #Chris Sturniolo x reader #Sturniolo x reader #Matt Sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo angst #sturniolo triplets

81 notes · View notes

berenwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Beyond the Battle - Chapter 19 - Stranger Things - Steddie

Beyond the Battle: Action & Consequence

In apology for the delay of the next chapter, there are 2 chapters being posted today, this is the first of 2.

Click here for All Posted Chapters

Summary: Steve hits things with a bat or gets hit depending on who you ask. He definitely does not have anything to do with the psychic stuff. That is El’s domain. However, as Vecna is defeated, the rules change.

Pairing: steddie (Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson)

Other Relationships: Steve & Robin, Steve & Dustin, Eddie & Dustin

Rating: Teen

A/N: Multi-chapter story, updated regularly. Honestly not sure how many chapters it will have yet because it's still a bit hand wavy in the middle, but definitely more than 12. Thank you to my beta for find my mistakes and to all those who read/like/reblog.💖 Follow #st:beyond-the-battle for updates.

Also on AO3

Chapter 19. Details

As the planning meeting broke up into smaller groups, Steve made his way towards Hopper.

“Hi,” he said.

“Let me stop you right there,” Hopper said before he could say anymore. “If you are going to suggest you can finish fixing me first, then the answer’s no. Even if we don’t get to implement this plan until tomorrow, you need to be in top form. And if you are going to apologise that you can’t finish fixing me, because of Max, don’t, because of course the kid who got Vecna’d is in front of an old man with a bad ankle in the queue.”

Steve blinked.

“God I’m too predictable,” was what he chose to say, shaking his head.

“Yes, Steve, you are,” Hopper said with a rather smug smile. “Out of interest, which one was it?”

“The second one,” he replied. “I’m not actually as dumb as the kids like to make out.”

“Kid, you’re not dumb at all, you just have some wildly fucked up priorities,” Hopper told him and patted him on the arm.

He tensed for a moment, but he relaxed as soon as the onslaught he was expecting didn’t come. It helped.

“See, you do a good job,” Hopper said and grinned at him.

“Let’s hope I can do as good a one with Max,” he replied, doing his best not to let his insecurities rise up.

“No doubt from this direction, Steve,” Hopper said, expression turning serious. “Now I think my daughter is trying to get your attention.”

Steve turned to see El smiling at him.

“Guess it’s time for the pre-game pep talk,” he said, more to himself than Hopper, but the man clapped him on the back as he walked away anyway.

Talking to El was surprisingly easy. They went over the plan in a bit more detail before shifting into discussing possible other practice sessions they could do along with Will. El had plenty of ideas which were only slightly terrifying as far as Steve was concerned. He was listening to El and Will discussing the Void when he heard the phone ringing. Jonathan disappeared to answer it, but Steve wasn’t really paying attention.

“Robin, it’s your mom,” did however get his attention.

“Oh, thanks,” Robin said, climbing over Dustin and Mike who had sprawled onto the floor rather than just sitting on it.

“If you get any closer I’m gonna need Steve to fix what you squashed,” Dustin complained.

“Then move, Doufus,” Robin replied, but she was already mostly through the obstacle course.

Steve tuned back into what El and Will were talking about, but kept one eye on the door, in case Robin needed anything. He was relieved to see her bounce back into the room smiling a minute or so later.

“Hey, Dingus,” she called across the room, “good news, technically we’re still employed, bad news, Family Video is not going to open for at least a month.”

“Problem for another day?” he asked, just in case it was something Robin needed to deal with before she could settle.

Sometimes she was like that, and he always liked to make sure.

“Oh, hell yeah,” she replied. “I will miss our mornings of double boxsets if we have to quit, though.”

“Highlight of my days,” he told her with a hand on his heart.

“You have no taste,” she shot back, before tucking herself back on the couch with Nancy.

With that dealt with, Steve returned to his previous conversation and asked what he hoped was a sensible question.

~*~

When Robin and Steve got back to his house, Wayne and Eddie were smoking in the backyard. They’d had no more news about when Max would be back in Hawkins, so the party meeting had broken up. Steve left the walkie on the table in the pool room as he headed out back and Robin disappeared into the bathroom with a quick, “Need to pee.”

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Steve,” Eddie said, face lighting up, “everything go okay?”

“As well as anything can go with that many fifteen-year-olds in the same place,” he replied with a smile. “We now have a workable plan for visiting Max without the hospital turning into complete chaos.”

“The Mayfield girl?” Wayne asked.

Steve nodded.

“She was hurt badly in the quake,” he explained, “and they’re transferring her back to Hawkins today at some time. She was in a coma when the evacuation happened but woke up a few days ago, so everyone wants to see her as soon as possible.”

“I heard she was in a bad way,” Wayne said. “Poor kid.”

“I’m sure she’ll be raising hell again in no time,” Eddie said, giving Steve a supportive smile over his uncle’s shoulder.

“Knowing Max, that’s for sure,” he agreed.

Wayne pulled out a packet of cigarettes and offered him one.

“Thanks, but I quit,” he replied. “Robin kept handing me flyers about lung cancer until I promised.”

“That’s because I’m a good friend,” Robin said, choosing that exact moment to appear from the house. “Terrible habit.”

“That it is,” Wayne agreed, even as he puffed away.

“Told you,” Robin said, grinning at Steve.

“So, what are your terrible habits?” Eddie asked, pinning Robin down with the I-dare-you look he had that did things to Steve on a visceral level.

“The tales I could tell,” Steve replied before his brain could go off on a tangent.

“You would break the best friend code?” Robin gasped, taking a leaf out of Eddie’s book and putting a hand over her heart and everything.

“Dammit,” Steve said, letting his shoulders sag, “you take the fun out of everything.”

“Do not!” Robin squawked. “Take that back.”

She slapped him on the shoulder for good measure. Of course, he had to retaliate, sweeping her into his arms bridal style so she screeched some more.

“Put me down you big bully,” she yelled, slapping his shoulder some more.

“I’ll put you down,” he said and took a step towards the pool.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Robin said, so he had to take another step. “No!” she squeaked, throwing her arms around his neck and hanging on like her life depended on it.

He rolled his eyes, laughing as he gently put her down.

“I would never,” he said, enjoying just blowing off some steam, “you’d get slime all over my house.”

Eddie snorted a very loud laugh at that.

“I hate you both,” Robin said, doing her very best impression of a kicked puppy.

It wasn’t that good, because she just didn’t have the eyes down, but it always worked on Steve anyway. He dragged her into a hug and kissed her on top of her head.

“Forgive me,” he said as she relaxed against him.

“I’ll think about it,” she replied quietly.

“You sure you two ain’t related?” Wayne asked from where he had watched the whole proceedings.

“He wishes,” Robin said with a bright grin.

Steve did not deny it. He often wondered what it might have been like growing up with a sister like Robin. Would he still love her in the same way he did, or would they have grown apart like many siblings he knew? Such questions plagued him.

“Well, I should be getting back,” Wayne said, standing up and stretching his back. “Took me an hour to get through those damn reporters yesterday. Almost missed my ride to the plant.”

“You’re having problems with the press?” Steve asked as Robin pulled away from him.

“Damn vultures,” Wayne replied, “all want a piece of Eddie an’ don’t care if he’s dead or alive. Had to sneak through each time before I decked any of ‘um for the questions they were asking.”

“That sounds terrible,” Robin said, and Steve nodded his agreement.

“You could stay here if you want,” he said as the idea popped into his head.

Wayne looked honestly shocked and Eddie’s eyes had opened in surprise too.

“There’s plenty of room and no one would ever guess you were here,” Steve added as both Munson men kept looking at him.

“I couldn’t impose like that,” Wayne said eventually.

“You wouldn’t be imposing, Wayne,” he did his best to assure the other man, “and it would probably be safer for Eddie having you here,” he added for good measure, “rather than running the gauntlet of press every time you come visit. I’m sure we could get Hop, or Jonathan and Argyle to pick up your things from the motel so no one is the wiser.”

Eddie was asking a whole host of questions with his eyes, so Steve did his very best to make sure his boyfriend knew he was perfectly serious.

“If we put you in the basement bedroom, you shouldn’t be bothered by noise when the house is invaded by teenagers either,” he said as it occurred to him.

They’d have to be more careful about where in the house they discussed anything Upside Down related, but it wasn’t as if every other house except for Joyce and Hopper didn’t have the same problem.

“He’s not going to let you say no, Wayne,” Eddie said, standing up and leaning on his uncle’s shoulder. “Once Steve adopts you, there’s just no way out.”

Steve seriously began to rethink his slime in the house rule as his face rapidly heated up. It might be worth it to see the grin wiped off Eddie’s face. Wayne was looking between him and Eddie now.

“Are you sure, son?” Wayne asked, facing him square on again.

“Perfectly,” he replied. “You’re welcome here.”

The way Eddie’s smile went soft and warm at that had Steve feeling warm for entirely different reasons.

“Then, thank you, Steve,” Wayne finally said. “I would be most grateful to take up your offer, especially to keep Eddie safe.”

“Great,” Steve said. “I can show you the room and we can call the guys so see if they can swing by the motel. What time do you need to meet your ride?”

He listened as Wayne gave him the details and they all headed back into the house.

“You’re going for sainthood, that’s it, isn’t it,” Eddie whispered in his ear as they made their way towards the basement.

“I was thinking more of worshiping my very own demon,” he replied in an equally low tone and very much enjoyed the way Eddie almost fell over his own feet.

End of Chapter 19

Chapter 20

#stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie lives #stranger things #st:beyond-the-battle #fanfic #post season 4 #vampire eddie #hurt/comfort #vampire eddie munson #steve harrington has powers #steddie fanfic #steddie fic

6 notes · View notes

shiningstages · 2 years ago

Text

Putting myself on hold because I did 6 drafts between last night and this morning, so I'm queued up until Sunday~ For some reason the writing gods just hit me and I'm so grateful hehe~ But now I have to go to work soon, so I'm gonna try and see what I get done later tonight / tomorrow to queue up for the busy week ahead~ ( if nothing then...remember me...i'll be back eventually...like always... )

#;big bubble blowing baby! ( ooc )#( getting out a bunch of different muses was fun too yay~#i'd like to personally thank my atlas brainrot combined with my college part two excitement for this writing power #i wanna write more!!!!!!! lots more!!!!!!!!!! but not right now i should chill a lil #next week i'm gonna be going to two completely different concerts ( a river jam and a chorus concert )#with work in the middle and before that to tire me out #and then my birthday after that~ i got the day off yay i'm gonna sleep and buy a cake~#which reminds me to go to the post office for someone else...and get a card...hmmmmmmm what kind of card though~ )

2 notes · View notes

songofwizardry · 1 year ago

Text

thoughts on the mighty nein echoes of the solstice liveshow! gonna try and make this spoiler-free (it's mostly just my Emotions and reactions) until the recording airs, but under a cut just in case!

what a fucking experience. genuinely still buzzing, on an unreal level. (i may stop vibrating with energy in about three weeks. but i can't guarantee it.) i don't think i've ever been in a venue that large, and certainly 12.5k d&d nerds was... something else. the (many, many, many, incredible and inventive) cosplays! the conversations in the queues! the whole entire Vibe of Wembley last night—including the sheer number of people in cosplay on a late-night metropolitan line tube, which i have never seen before and definitely would like to see again. getting to yell out the NEINs and the cheering for the big moments and the whole-room gasps for the plot twists!

it's such a good one-shot, and honestly so fucking impressive to me that they were able to do that and pull off a game like that, live, in front of an immense fucking audience in a massive venue. (i am incredibly impressed both by matt's DMing and by everyone's synergy and character knowledge and just. hitting all those beats so well. it is not an easy thing to pull off but boy did they do it.) everyone was on fire. you're all in for a treat tonight/tomorrow morning when it airs. i will probably never recover from this for the rest of my life.

#critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #mighty nein #mighty nein echoes of the solstice #text post #my post #2023 is an experience #i saw SO MANY beaus y'all #i didn't go up to each of them and tell them how awesome their cosplay was but it was a near thing #everyone looked fantastic #also also i got to do this with Friends and that made it even more incredible #idk i am made literally 80% of emotion #big shoutout to the person who wrote a fanfic literally right after the show and posted it so by the time i got home and was trying to slee #there was already a fic there #nobody works faster than this fandom istg #and yes i may already be writing i just. am v attached to these characters ok.#anyway i will stop now before i inadvertantly let a spoiler slip #wild experience to have watched an episode before everyone else and particularly before the north american crew!#it was lovely and intense and fucking wild and i have lived such a strange and full and joyous year #so much has happened in the best way #i am extremely emotional and grateful

0 notes

annaraebananawriter · 3 years ago

Text

Stage Fright

I realize that I have been posting rather frequently this month. I apologize if you’re overwhelmed by that, but rest assured (or not assured depending on your stance on the matter): I am also overwhelmed by the motivation I have stumbled into lately.

That said, I don’t really have too much to say today. Perhaps i can mention that it’s almost 5 am and I have not gone to bed yet, but you don’t really need to know that.

Just...happy reading!

Fandom: DSMP

Characters: Technoblade, Wilbur Soot, Tommyinnit, and Philza

Warnings: None, as far as I know. Let me know otherwise!

Summary: “13-year-old Techno has to perform in the talent show. Unfortunately, his legs don't quite get the drift and he's stuck in the bathroom way past the queue. Luckily, his older brother Wilbur is here to save the day! (Techno-centric, Modern AU; Wilbur is 16) “

Word Count: 2503

~oOo~

Techno will forever regret letting Dream coax him into doing this stupid talent show. Sure, it was for a bet, but in all hindsight, a little thing like proclaiming his friend’s the better of the two in front of the whole school tomorrow morning really doesn’t seem so bad. It’s far better than living with the embarrassment that he couldn’t get his anxiety in check enough that he could perform in front of a hundred or so people and face failure.

Now he’s stuck under the bathroom sink, between the leaking pipes and the wall, all of his thirteen-year-old self shoved into that tiny space with his violin clutched tightly in front of him.

He sighs, shifting the barest amount after his foot started to hurt. His breathing had only just gone back to a reasonable level, and his heart has yet to catch the memo and follow lead. Closing his eyes, he lets his head fall back the small amount it needs to until it hits the wall.

He really wants to get up and go out there. Literally nothing is stopping him! He knew what he was getting into when he signed up a month ago, when Dream begged him to enter so he had someone to try and beat, and he knows that he can play his violin well enough to have a good chance at coming in first (he doesn’t mean to brag, but he also kind of will; the violin is hard for a kid to learn and stick with it and Phil has always said how proud he was that he stuck with it and showed a good interest in it).

But he can’t move his legs. It’s like they’re glued to the ground. Nothing of what Techno’s learned in all of his years of schooling has told him that this should be possible. Just the opposite, in fact. So, he can’t stop thinking in despair over what was wrong with him. And why now? Why not ages ago when he wared over to do it in the first place or not?

Why now?!

Techno huffs to himself, and glares at his knees. Phil had bought him a new pair of jeans, these ones with flowers embroidered on the side, for this too and here he was, sitting on the dirty bathroom floor. Ruining them! They’re gonna be all dirty and gross and everyone will laugh at him and then he’ll be forced from the competition and then his family will be disappointed in him and then—

What did Phil tell him to do when he was overthinking things again?

Right. Breathe.

He blinks the tears back and forces himself to inhale as big as he can.

This is stupid, he thinks. All I’m doing is giving into my anxiety instead of fighting against it, or working through it, or whatever Phil says I’m supposed to do with it. If I already wasn’t failing him by remaining here instead of actually performing for once, then I almost certainly am now with how easily I let myself spiral like that.

The bathroom doorknob wiggles—he had locked it earlier in the first minutes of his panic, and the people who had tried to get his attention had all given up by now—and Techno stops breathing. It goes silent again, before small clicking sounds fill the room. He frowns, remembering too late that his older brother learned how to lockpick a door on a whim one night and has used that skill for an upper hand when he deems it necessary.

The door opens and the worn sneakers, the right one basically all duck tape now thanks to Tommy’s genius, of Wilbur’s appear. The door shits behind him and the feet pause in the room, before turning the bit over to face Techno, whose own light-up Velcro Sketchers peeked through from under the sink.

His brother walks over and crouches in front of the sink, circular glasses peering down at him. He smiles. “Hey, Tech,” Wilbur says, moving to sit down, “How you doing?” The top of his head gets cut off by the underside of the sink.

It’s a little bit funny, but Techno doesn’t let his laugh out.

“Good,” he says back, even if the truth was that he was doing anything but good and would much rather be back home, safe and sound, snuggled under the comforter with his stuffed rabbit, Sir Billiam (“The third! It has to be the third because three is the greatest number!” “Thanks, Tommy. I’ll take that into consideration.”).

Wilbur snickers, eyeing the sink and the tiny space Techno has wedged himself in. “How’d you even manage to shove yourself in there?”

“It’s amazing what you can do under pressure.” Techno tilts his head as much as he can, hiding his smile. “And when you’re not freakishly tall.”

“Hey! I take offense to that.” Wilbur shakes his head. “And at the rate you and Tommy are growing, you’ll both be as tall as me in no time, so really you’re just insulting future you.”

Techno just wrinkles his nose at him.

Wilbur sighs, setting his head on his hand. “You gonna come out?” He gives a slight nod to the door. “Everyone’s waiting for you on the stage. They would’ve expelled you, actually, if Tommy hadn’t jumped on stage and stolen the microphone.” He chuckles as Techno groans like he’s been given the worst news in his life.

Which he might as well have.

“Don’t tell me he’s makin’ sex jokes again.”

That’s the last thing anyone needed right now; some eight-year-old on a stage telling jokes inappropriate for his age and swearing like some sailor. It’d be a memory to remember, but just knowing that he’s related to the eight-year-old who did it would be enough for techno to never show his face in the city again, even if no one else knew what he knew.

“I can say nothing. Tommy is a free man to choose what he wants to do.” Wilbur shrugs, looking far too unconcerned about this. Techno glares at him. His brother pauses and his smile turns sheepish. “Though we should probably get back before he gets arrested again and Dad needs to bail him out.”

“At least it’s not as bad as the zoo,” Techno mutters to himself, though it echoes in the bathroom.

“Nothing’s as bad as the zoo.”

That’s fair.

Techno tries again to get his legs to move, but they still don’t listen to him. If he wasn’t holding onto his violin, he’d be hitting his legs in a fit, frustrated that they weren’t working no matter what. He really wants to get this solved and go perform.

“I would love to come out, Wilbur, but my legs aren’t workin’,” Techno whines, shifting himself again. “I tell them to get up and they don’t get up. I’ve tried to bribe them, but they drive a really hard bargain and I don’t think I have the will to do what they demand.” He frowns, the tears coming back. He tries to keep his voice from breaking. “It’s like they’re frozen, man. I don’t know what’s goin’ on.”

“Ah.” Wilbur nods, stoking a non-existent beard. “Stage fright.”

Techno huffs. “I don’t get stage fright.”

Wilbur smiles brightly, leaning forward. “Sure you don’t! Then you’re free to go on stage and perform whenever you want!” He stands, moving out of his way. “Go ahead.” His brother waits for him.

Techno turns his glare to his knees again, blinking the tears away again.

Okay, work with me here. You can’t embarrass me in front of Wil like this. He might—ugh—maybe he’s—oh I might throw up just thinking this—but he might be right here, but we can’t let him know that we think he’s right. You hear me? We can’t. He’ll never let us live this down! We just can’t let him do this!

His legs don’t twitch.

You’re no help.

Cheeks heating up, Techno looks everywhere but at Wilbur as he crouches back down. “…maybe I get some stage fright.”

“Maybe,” Wilbur agrees, sympathetic. He holds out a hand. “Here, grab my hand.”

Techno glances at his hand and looks at him. “I’ve already told you, my legs don’t work.”

“I know. Just trust me!”

“Not in a million years.” But he takes Wilbur’s hand.

With a grunt, Wilbur pulls him forward and out from under the sink. Then he grabs him by the biceps and lifts him up, until his legs have no choice but to unfold themselves and stand too, holding his weight like they usually do. It’s kinda tingly, as they’ve been asleep for a while, but they’re awake and moving and finally, Techno can go perform like he’s supposed to.

“Bruh.” He glares down at his legs, pinching one of them for emphasis. “Where were you fifteen minutes ago? I’ve been waiting for you. Slackers.” He looks back up at Wilbur, bringing his violin close to his chest. “Thanks.” He gets the words out as fast as he can.

“Of course. Just my duty as your older brother.” Wilbur gives a slight bow, before he steps forward to grab his shoulder, leaning down for eye contact. “Techno, you do know that you’re the best violinist in the show, even if you don’t win?”

“I’m the only violinist in the show.”

“Exactly. That means you’re automatically number one. Even if you come in last place—which is really unlikely, because you’re you, but still—we’ll cheer just as loud as if you came in first, okay?” Wilbur looks very sincere, and the sentiment is nice, but Techno can only focus on one thing out of all of that.

“Please don’t.” He frowns, worried. “I don’t wanna go deaf.”

Wilbur laughs, letting go. “Now let’s get you to the stage so you can wow them all away!” Before he opens the door, he whirls back around and peers at Techno. “…something’s missing.” He rummages around in the pocket of his jacket and pulls out something, eyes lighting up. “Ah!” He reaches forward and ties it around one of Techno’s space buns. “There we go! Now you’re ready.”

Curious, Techno looks in the mirror. Around his left space bun, paired nicely with his pink hair, is a purple ribbon, tied into a small bow. It seems to be the perfect size. That’s one hell of a coincidence, if you ask him.

He looks back at Wilbur, an eyebrow raised. “Really?”

Wilbur beams at him and grabs his hand. “Let’s go!”

Together, they make their way through the backstage. Wilbur walks confidently, and techno tries to keep up, but he needs to be twice as quick to keep pace with his brother. It doesn’t help that he’s looking stubbornly at his feet, unable to face the other contestants who had succeeded in performing without a hitch. He doesn’t want to see their smirks and laughter and eyes that follow him, mocking him.

He already made enough fun of himself, thank you very much.

They get to the stage in time for Tommy to be manhandled off, all while fighting like a wild raccoon and saying so many swears, even the older kids on tech support have their ears covered in disbelief. The person dragging his little brother off stage pauses at the sight of him and Tommy stops fighting, snapping back to being the perfect angel.

“There you are!” Tommy exclaims, tugging his arm away and running to them. “Now knock them fucking dead, Big Man!” He gives Techno a tight hug before walking off with Wilbur, who gives him one last thumbs up before he leaves.

Techno takes one last deep breath before he goes on the stage.

It’s really quiet as he walks out, and he can almost feel the snickers at his shoe choice and jean choice and hairstyle, all very unconventional for a boy to be wearing. Someone in the audience coughs and he flinches as he takes center stage. His eyes flicker from audience member to audience member, all of them staring at him with bored eyes.

It’s so much pressure.

The longer he goes without performing, the more people start to get restless, and he feels bad because he’s wasting their time, but it seems his arms have been frozen with the same thing his legs were in the bathroom. Some members in the first-row whisper to each other about him and his cheeks start burning even more.

His arms aren’t moving. Why aren’t they moving?

He really needs his arms to move right now.

Please move. Please move. Please move.

Techno swallows, tears once again in his eyes. The audience blurs in front of him. His eyes flicker over them before they catch onto movement near the back. He pauses in his panic, confused.

Tommy’s shouting at someone, or at least trying to. Wilbur has his hand over his mouth and is staring up at him with an encouraging smile that widens when they lock eyes. Phil is there too, apparently choosing to ignore Tommy. He’s also looking at him with a smile, flashing him two thumbs up when his gaze lands on him. He mouths some words at him he can’t make out, but when he looks over at Wilbur again, he nods in agreement, so they must be some good words.

Techno breathes and closes his eyes.

Okay, okay. Calm down. You got this. You got this. You got this.

You got this.

He must’ve zoned out or something because all he remembers is the music and repeating the mantra of ‘you got this’ in his head over and over again until it’s all he could hear. And the next thing he knew, was that the music was done and the piece was finished, and the whole audience was silent. Belatedly, he realizes his eyes are still closed, and opens them, facing the audience, that’s still silent.

Techno rocks on his heels, the quiet crushing him.

“THAT’S MY BROTHER BITCHES!”

His head snaps up as Tommy shouts. His brother is sitting on Wilbur’s shoulders, hands raised in the air, whooping and clapping so hard it echoes around the room. Wilbur joins in after a moment with a whistle, and Phil follows suit with some more contained clapping, but with a proud smile on his face. The cheering makes the audience shift and all of them follow suit gradually until it’s a standing ovation.

Techno’s face warms even more—he wasn’t sure that was possible—and he runs off the stage before there’s any more embarrassment.

But something in his chest has lifted, and it continues to lift as he’s awarded the first-place award and his brothers pile onto him outside, as Phil corrals them all into a nice hug as he takes a selfie of them squished together, Techno smack in the middle. Something warm wraps around his heart and he knows that, despite everything, he wouldn’t change this for the world.

#my writing #my fanfiction #oneshot #dsmp #dream smp #technoblade #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #philza #modern au #sbi #sleepy bois inc #twinsduo #i think thats all the tags i need

7 notes · View notes

nightwings-circus · 3 years ago

Note

i would be forever blessed if you wrote detective!dick grayson x reader, smth with handcuffing 100% if you’re comfortable. i’m debating writing smth along the same lines myself cause he rlly just hits different 🥵

lots of love mwuah xx

Stay tuned tomorrow morning y’all 👀 in the queue for you all to enjoy!!! You got me simping for nightwing again not gonna lie 😩🙏 lots of love to you too xxx hope you enjoy it!!!!

Feel free everyone to submit requests! This was fun as hell to write and I hope y’all enjoy :)

#dc comics #dc fanfic #dick grayson #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson fanfic #nightwing #nightwing smut #angel speaks #angel whispers

21 notes · View notes

fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Simple Man

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 3351

Summary: It was never what he thought he would have. But now Dean doesn’t want to let go.

Notes: I was going to wait and make this a Thanksgiving special, but I thought today would be more fitting. I can’t believe Supernatural ends tonight! This show has been a part of my life for a while now and it will forever stay in my heart. I had a really really good time writing this one. It might be one of my favorites I’ve written for Dean, if not my top pick. I hope you guys enjoy it and look forward to seeing more. Carry on.

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

(P.S. thank you to my beta reader @suckmysupernatural. Love you!)

Oh, take your time, don’t live to fast

Troubles will come and they will pass

He had slept through an alarm he didn’t remember setting. It wasn’t until he heard the creaking of the door that he stirred, reaching under his pillow for his knife. But it wasn’t there. Dean panicked as footsteps crept towards him. They were nothing more than a small pitter-patter on the wood floor, but he still prepared himself for the attack. The small creature leapt on top of him and he rolled over so he was pinning it beneath him. It giggled. It giggled?

“Daddy, Mom said she needs you in the kitchen.”

Dean leaned over to the night stand and turned on the lamp. A little green eyed girl squirmed out from underneath him and skipped out of the room.

“The hell…” Dean muttered. He opened the dresser and sure enough, his clothes sat in the drawers. He put on a T-shirt and slowly walked out of the room. The smell of bacon and coffee coaxed him to the kitchen. He couldn’t believe what he saw.

You were standing over the stove, trying to save the bacon from burning. Dean was just frozen in the doorway. Finally spotting him, you made your way over to him, which was difficult with the little boy clinging to your leg.

“Thank God you’re up. I need you to finish making breakfast.” You lifted the boy into your arms. “Eric’s got a fever and Ellie is going to wake up any second needing to be fed.” You gently laid a hand on Eric’s forehead. “I’ll call the doctor as soon as I get him to lay down. But you know how impossible that is.”

“But I’m not tired.” Eric whined.

“I know, sweetie, but you don’t want to get sicker, do you?” He pouted his lip and shook his head. “Alright, so I need you to go back to bed.” You looked back at Dean. “Can you just finish the bacon? I’ll be back to make their toast.”

Before Dean could speak, you rushed up the stairs. As if on queue, a baby started to cry from somewhere upstairs. Dean just stood in shock. What the hell was going on?

As if by second nature, he walked around the kitchen, grabbing a paper towel to let the bacon drain off the grease. It felt almost natural. He somehow knew where everything was, even though he had never been here. Or had he? His brain was fuzzy with thoughts he couldn't remember. He saw images flash in his mind. Sam graduating from Stanford. His parents celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary. You… in a wedding dress.

“Johanna Charlotte Winchester you better be ready for school or your dad’s going to come and get you!” You yelled, coming back into the kitchen, this time a wailing baby in your arms. It wasn’t until now that Dean noticed you were wearing a sheriff’s uniform. You snatched up a piece of bacon and popped it in your mouth. “Thank you.”

You bounced the baby in your arms, trying to calm her down, but she wasn’t having it. The green eyed little girl from early came bounding into the room with her backpack over one shoulder. Ellie continued to bawl.

“Can you hold her? She always stops crying when you hold her.” You handed the squirming child to him and he tried not to panic. You noticed your husband’s awkwardness. “Rough morning?” You snickered. “Here, I’ll make you some coffee.”

As the child in his arms slowly stopped her crying, more memories flooded Dean’s head. You telling him you were pregnant for the first time. Going to the emergency room for the birth of his son. Watching Johanna hold her new baby sister. They all felt like dreams, but then how was this all real?

“I’m feeling a little... off this morning.” He admitted, watching you carefully as if he were waiting for horns to sprout from your forehead. Your face fell.

“Oh god, please don’t tell me you’re sick too.” You put your hand on his forehead. “You’re picking everyone up from the airport today.”

“Everyone?” Dean’s brows furrowed curiously.

“I would go get them, but I’m at the station until five.” You sighed, moving your hand down to caress his cheek. “Besides, you’ve been dying to see your brother since the Fourth of July.”

“Uncle Sam!” Jo exclaimed excitedly.

“Sammy’s coming?” Dean asked. Finally, something familiar. Your face contorted with confusion.

“Of course he’s coming. Jessica and the kids are too. They always help prepare for tomorrow and since your parents will still be out on their cruise, we’ll need all the help we can get.”

“Tomorrow...” He spotted the calendar on the wall, but you answered first.

“Thanksgiving.” You stated. Your confusion changed to concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to stay home?” Jo raised her hand.

“Can I stay home too?”

“Sweetheart, it’s just one more half-day of school before break and then you’ll get to play with your cousins for the rest of the week.” Seeing you start to get stressed, Dean put a hand on your shoulder.

“You go to work. I’m fine.” He assured you. “I’ll hold down the fort and I’ll pick up Sam at- what time again?”

“3:00.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and smiled. “I know you worked extra last week so you could have the garage closed for Thanksgiving, but I think the fumes might have gone to your head.” You grabbed the keys off the counter. “Oh, and I’ll be taking Baby to work since you’ll need the van to fit everyone.” His look of displeasure made you laugh. “I know, I know, but you’ll have to suck it up for today unless you think the four-year-old can babysit.”

You kiss Ellie on the forehead before giving Dean a quick, but passionate kiss on the lips. You held out your hand for your daughter to take.

“Alright, partner, let’s go.”

The two of you leave and Dean looks down at the baby in his arms. Was this really happening?

Boy don’t you worry, you’ll find yourself

Follow your heart and nothing else

If he was trapped by a djinn, he would have remembered fighting it. This was something else. The more time he spent in the house, the more this world felt real and his hunting life felt like dreams. Maybe… maybe this was real.

He remembered everything now. He had met you in a bar on New Years Eve. You hit it off talking about cars and classic rock. He proposed about two years later outside that same bar during the first snow of the season. You always said the first snow was the best one. You got married and a couple months later found out you were pregnant with Jo. Johanna Charlotte Winchester was born on April 3, 2007. She was seven. Three years later, Eric Samuel was born on November 29th. He was four. Lastly, Ellen Sandra was born six months ago tomorrow on May 27, 2014.

Sammy had a family of his own. He married Jessica right out of law school and the two had two boys; Josh, 8, and Michael, 6. Their families stayed close, even though Sam was in California and Dean in Kansas. They were happy.

If this wasn’t real, how could he remember all that?

3:00 rolled around and Eric’s fever had gone down. He called you to make sure it would be okay to take him along to the airport. You told him that as long as he was feeling okay, it should be fine. The doctor said it sounded like the heat in his room was too high. Dean buckled Eric into his carseat and Ellie in her carrier. While Johanna almost looked like a mini-girl version of him, Eric looked like you. His eyes were yours, along with his hair color and his nose. Ellie looked like a fair mix of both.

Jessica was the first one to greet him since Sam was busy carrying the boys’ bags. He hugged her tight and couldn’t stop beaming.

“It’s so good to see you guys.” He smiled and she gave him a sunny grin in return.

“I know Sam’s been eager to see you and the family for a long time. Of course, I’m only here for the food.” She teased and he pulled her into another hug.

“I can’t believe this.” Dean sighed happily. Sam and Jessica. Him and you. One big happy family.

“Do I get a hug, or are just going to hog my wife?” Sam snarked, setting down the bags as Dean nearly tackled him. Sam laughed, struggling to breathe in his brother’s crushing hug. “I missed you too, Dean.”

“Uncle Sam!” Eric cheered, clinging to Sam’s leg.

“Hey buddy.” Sam smiled, lifting his nephew into his arms. Jessica peaked into the baby carrier Dean had set on the bench.

“Look at how big she’s gotten.” She awed. Ellie was asleep, so she spoke quietly. Jess frowned, finally noticing the two brown haired boys fighting over one of their comics. “Josh, stop pushing your brother.” She scolded.

“He took my comic!” The older of the two retorted. Jessica just gave him a stern look and he surrendered.

“Michael, give it back when you’re done reading.” Sam ruffled his youngest son’s hair. Dean knelt down.

“So are you two tough guys too cool to give your uncle a hug, or what?” He pulled his nephews into a warm embrace. “Are you both taller? You’re taller than the last time I saw you.” Dean pat Josh on the back. “You’re gonna be taller than your dad before you know it.”

“You know, you’d see them more if you flew out to California.” Jessica noted. Dean’s eyes widened. She laughed. “I know, I know, you have a thing about flying.”

“I want to go to California!” Eric exclaimed.

“One of these days, we can go on a roadtrip in Baby to Uncle Sam and Aunt Jessica’s, how does that sound?” Dean promised. Eric nodded, excitedly wriggling in Sam’s arms.

Everyone loaded up into the van, Sam sliding into the passenger seat. Dean had to laugh. This was just so crazy. Here they were, driving in a van packed full of children. Their children. He thought of all of the times Sam sat beside him in the impala, the two weary from a hunt. It felt like a different lifetime. Like a different world. It felt less real.

You’ll find a woman and you’ll find love

And don’t forget son, there is someone up above

Four children ran around the backyard, jumping in leaf piles and chasing each other with sticks. Jo seemed to rule the yard, keeping her older cousin at bay with her stubborn persistence. Dean smiled proudly.

“She’s quite the pistol.” Jessica noted with a laugh, jutting her head towards Johanna. She was sitting beside you, bouncing her baby niece in her arms.

“I wonder where she gets that from.” You gave your husband a smirk. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I love you so much.” He whispered. The tone in his voice made you glance up at him. He was watching you with intensity in his eyes. So much love and yet… there was pain there.

“I love you too.” You laced your fingers with his, your concern evident in your voice. “Dean, are you okay? You’ve been acting a little weird all day.” You spoke quietly so you wouldn’t worry your brother-in-law. Your husband gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m fine, really. I’m just…” Dean felt an overwhelming wave of emotion and choked back tears. “Really happy.” He lifted your chin up, bringing your lips to his. Everything was perfect, right down to the way your lips fit perfectly against his. He knew, without a doubt, that this was real.

Soon it was time to put the kids to bed. Sam’s boys slept on the pull-out couch in the basement. Eric was exhausted from a day of excitement, as well as his baby sister. Dean was charged with the task of putting a rambunctious Johanna to bed.

“I want to stay up and drink beer like a big kid.” She pouted, making the adults in the room chuckle. Dean crouched down and picked her up.

“Alright, here’s the deal. I promise that when you’re a big kid like me and your mom, then you can stay up and have a drink with us. But until then, you’re gonna be my little deputy right?” He tapped the golden plastic badge that she never took off. Jo grinned from ear to ear and nodded. Humming a Bob Segar tune, he took her upstairs to her room and tucked her into bed.

When he came back down stairs, his brother and the two women were smirking at him.

“What?” You and Jessica exchanged a look and burst out laughing. “Come on, what?”

“That girl has you wrapped around her finger, Dean.” Jessica snickered. You took a sip of your beer.

“Oh, he’s like that with Ellie, too. He dotes on them like you wouldn’t believe. One little pout from Johanna and he melts.” You couldn’t help but beam at your husband. You loved the way he was with the kids.

“I got her in bed, didn’t I?” Dean huffed, taking his seat beside you and resting a hand on your knee. Sam shook his head.

“It’s all in the looks, brother. You may think you’ve one this round, but I saw the look in Jo’s eyes.” Sam gave his brother a sure nod. “She knows where she stands.”

“At least I’ve got Eric,” You sighed teasingly. “He’s a mama's boy, through and through.”

You curled up beside Dean, comfortable in his warmth. He kissed the top of your head.

The hours passed with plenty of laughter and love. Soon, it was getting close to 11:00 and you wanted to get plenty of rest for the busy day tomorrow. Everyone would be helping prepare the massive Thanksgiving meal that the Winchesters made every year. Sam and Jessica said goodnight and headed to the guest room while you and Dean made your way upstairs.

You reached your rooms and Dean’s hands found your waist, his lips trailing up your shoulder to your neck. You leaned back into his embrace, bringing your hand up to tangle your fingers in his golden-brown hair. His hands started to wander and you sighed mournfully.

“Baby, we both have to be up in the morning.” You groaned, breaking away from him. When you turned around, he was pouting, his green eyes big and sad. So that’s where Johanna got it. He was just so impossible to resist, but if you didn’t go to bed now, you’d be exhausted before dinner even started. You draped your arms around his neck. “I’ll tell you what; how about we get a good night’s sleep tonight…” you pulled him close and whispered into his ear, “and I’ll give you something to be really thankful for tomorrow.”

Dean’s eyes widened and his smirk spread into a smile.

“Mrs. Winchester, we have a deal.” He loved the way that sounded coming from his lips. Mrs. Winchester.

You gave him a long and passionate goodnight kiss before changing into your pajamas and climbing into bed.

It must have been around 12:30 when the baby started crying. The baby monitor was on your nightstand, so you were awakened by the sound first. Dean moved to get up, but you stopped him.

“I’ll get her.” You sleepily shuffled out of the bedroom. Reaching the hall, you muttered something that your half-asleep husband only half comprehended. Something about the electricity acting up again.

The crying continued and you didn’t return. Dean yawned, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes and got out of bed. He slowly made his way down the hallway to the nursery. The door was ajar and the lamp had been turned on. You must have gone downstairs to get her a bottle.

Dean picked up his crying daughter, rocking her soothingly in his arms. She wailed and wailed until she heard his voice.

“Alright, sweetheart. It’s alright. Daddy’s got you.” He hushed. After a moment of rocking and soft whispers, Ellie started to settle down. As soon as her cries reduced to the occasional sniff, Dean set her back in her cradle. “That’s it. You’re going to be just fine. I’m not gonna let anything hurt you.”

Smiling down at his beautiful baby girl, Dean felt something on the back of his neck. When he touched it, his hand came away red. He froze, and as if his body went into auto pilot, he turned around. At first he couldn’t scream. He just stared.

Your mouth gaped at him, your eyes filled with terror and pain as the blood spread out from your stomach. Ellie started to cry again.

“No!” Dean screamed. That’s when the fire started.

And that’s when he woke up.

And be a simple kind of man

Oh, be something you love and understand

Dean sat straight up, sweat soaking through his t-shirt, his scream still on his lips. The cool air of the bunker made him shiver. He couldn’t breathe. He heaved and coughed as if the smoke really filled his lungs. A sudden hand on his shoulder made him jump out of the bed and flatten himself against the wall, holding out his fists to fight.

“Dean?” You rose slowly, walking towards him cautiously. “It’s okay. It was just a dream. You’re okay.”

He just stared at you, taking in every feature. You watched his eyes fill with tears and his chin tremble as he tried to speak. Nothing came out, just a strangled sounding cry. Dean fell to his knees and you rushed to hold him. Whatever it was, it wasn’t just a nightmare.

Dean wrapped his arms around your middle and leaned his head against your stomach as you soothingly ran your fingers through his hair. He didn’t make any sound as he cried, but the tears fell endlessly down his face. He was shaking in your arms.

“Dean, honey, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.” You whispered. This wasn’t the first time that he’d woken suddenly from a dream, but it had never been like this.

You told him that you were pregnant today. He seemed happy. Shocked, but happy. But now? Whatever was going through his head was breaking him. You sunk down in front of him so you could hold him fully, letting him cry into your shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” He finally choked out. “I’m sorry that this is all I can give you. I’m sorry that we don’t have a big house full of kids. That Sam has lost any chance at happiness. That we can never have a normal life.” You pushed back.

“Baby, what are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry that this baby is going to grow up haunted and broken… just like me.” His voice cracked. You put a hand on his cheek.

“Dean…” You pressed your forehead against his, feeling your own tears start to fall. “This baby is going to be loved and wanted and cherished, just like you.” You kissed him gently, reminding him of your adoration of this hero of a man.

Dean held you closer, letting your words sink into his heart. He wanted to believe it. He wanted more than anything to believe it. Even in his beautiful dream, you ended up burned and bloody. Even in his dream, he was broken.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. He would try like hell to give you a life as close to perfect as he could manage. Maybe that meant hunting together until you went down guns blazing. Maybe that meant settling down, someday, somewhere. He would try.

Baby be a simple kind of man

Oh, won’t you do this for me, son, if you can

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy; @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone

#dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #jessica moore #jensen ackles #supernatural #happy thanksgiving #supernatural imagines #simple man #angst up the waz

353 notes · View notes

tails89 · 4 years ago

Text

Fandom: Teen Wolf Word count: 1289 Read on AO3

“You will not believe what just happened to me,” Stiles whines, bursting in through the front door and dropping down onto the couch beside Derek. Kicking off his shoes, he throws his feet up to hang over the armrest and slumps backwards into the cushions.

Derek doesn’t move—just glances around the pages of his book muttering under his breath, “Hey Derek. Nice to see you Derek. Can I come in? Sure Stiles, make yourself at home.”

“Pfft, this isn’t about you,” Stiles grins, flapping his hand at Derek. “Actually-” he sits up suddenly, pulling in his legs to cross them underneath himself. “It is. Do you know what Mrs Davidson said to me today?”

“Let me guess.” Derek throws one arm across the back of the couch. “She said, ‘here comes trouble’?”

“Uh, no.” Stiles rolls his eyes. “She asked me-” He lets his voice go high and reedy in a poor imitation of his elderly neighbour. “’What’s a nice boy like Derek Hale is doing with a boy like you?’ Which, first of all—rude! Second of all, me corrupt you?”

“Yeah, where on earth would she get that idea?” Derek asks, finally giving up on his book and slipping an old receipt into the pages to mark his spot.

“Hey, I am an upstanding young citizen,” Stiles argues, flopping back, his head pillowed against Derek’s thigh. “I am a pillar of this community. I mould the young minds of Beacon Hills.”

Derek barks out a laugh. “Who thought that was a good idea?”

Rolling over onto his stomach, Stiles steadies himself on one elbow and uses the other hand to poke Derek in the leg. “You sir, have everyone one tricked into thinking you’re Mr Deputy Goody-two-shoes, but I know the real you.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, and I know who of the two of us dug up Mrs Davidson’s daffodils, and it wasn’t me.”

“That was an accident and you promised not to bring that up again.”

“Well I’m a lying liar who lies.”

With a quick shove, Derek sends Stiles tumbling onto the floor and stands, moving for the kitchen. “And that’s why your neighbour thinks you’re corrupting me. You staying for dinner?”

“Yup, you making spaghetti?” Stiles asks, following Derek into the kitchen and hopping up onto the counter to watch him start pulling things from the fridge. He swings his legs, knocking his heels against the cabinet doors. “I distinctly remember you promising to make your Dad’s famous spaghetti if I made it through parent-teacher week without murdering anyone.”

“What does she even mean by that, anyway?” Stiles asks around a mouthful of pasta, his next forkful hovering halfway to his mouth.

Derek waits, tearing off another slice of garlic bread, for Stiles to explain his logic jump.

“Who?” He prompts, when the explanation never comes.

“Mrs Davidson,” Stiles tells him, like it was an obvious connection to make. “Why does she think we’re together?”

Shrugging, Derek uses his garlic bread to mop up the last of the bolognaise sauce. “We hang out a lot,” he says. “You’re either over here or I’m over at your place. It’s not an unreasonable assumption to make.” He pops the bread into his mouth and reaches for Stiles’ now empty bowl.

“I got it.” Stiles waves him off. “You cooked; I can clean up.” He stands, stacking the empty bowls on top of each other. “I’ll get the icecream if you queue up the next episode of Narcos.”

“I’ll be right back,” Stiles says suddenly. “Don’t let the next episode start.”

He disappears from the living room and Derek takes the opportunity to stretch out on the couch. It’s getting late, but the last episode had ended on a cliffhanger so there’s no way they can leave it there.

Reaching for the remote, Derek checks how many episodes are left—three. Tomorrow’s Saturday, so Stiles is off and Derek’s on a late shift so they can probably finish the season before calling it a night.

“You’re in my spot,” Stiles says, shuffling back into the room.

“It’s my couch,” Derek says, making a show of getting comfortable. “I think you’ll find it’s all my spot.”

Stiles slaps jokingly at his legs until Derek lifts them, dropping them down into Stiles’ lap once the human is sitting again.

“You’re such a couch hog,” Stiles complains, but he doesn’t push Derek’s sock-clad feet away. Instead, he stretches out with his own legs up on the coffee table. “You know, I only come over here when Dad’s on the late shift.”

Derek’s finger hovers over the button on the remote but he doesn’t press play. “I know.” And it’s true, because when the Sheriff is home, Derek’s usually over at the Stilinski house with them.

“I just- do other people think we’re dating?” Stiles asks. “Like is this a widespread thing or is it just my neighbour? Do you think my dad thinks we’re dating?”

“I think you’re overthinking this,” Derek says, nudging Stiles’ leg with his foot. “Can I hit play now?” He doesn’t wait for Stiles to respond and the title card of the next episode flashes up on the TV.

“Hey, what time is it?” Stiles mumbles, rubbing his fists into his eyes.

Onscreen, Netflix is playing a trailer for another show, but Derek hits the power button on the remote to shut the TV off. Picking up his cellphone, the bright light almost blinds them both as Derek checks the time.

“Late.”

“Ugh.” Stiles mashes his face into the space between the back of the couch and Derek’s leg. “I’m getting too old for this,” he complains. “I’m feel like an old man— gotta be in bed by nine or face the consequences.”

“And all at the ripe old age of twenty-five,” Derek jokes, shifting to give Stiles more room to faceplant into the cushions.

“You don’t understand.” Stiles looks up. “You and your youthful werewolf body will never know my pain. My knees creak now Der, they creak.” He buries his face again, and Derek only just catches his mumbled. “They tell me when it’s gonna rain.”

“It’s a useful skill,” Derek tells him, laughing when Stiles flips him off. “Come on, it’s late. You can crash here.” He lets Stiles use the bathroom first, stacking their icecream bowls into the dishwasher while Stiles brushes his teeth.

“Did I leave any clothes here last time?” Stiles asks, sticking his head out of the bedroom door. Jeans don’t make for particularly comfortable pyjamas and it’s too cold to sleep in his boxers.

“Bottom drawer,” Derek calls back over his shoulder.

“Found them.”

Turning off the kitchen light, Derek heads to his bedroom. He’d spent the afternoon lounging around in his sweats so after brushing his teeth he goes straight to bed, climbing into the sheets and rolling over onto his side.

He’s comfortable and warm, drifting right on the precipice of sleep.

“Oh my god!” Stiles lurches upright on the bed, almost elbowing Derek in the gut with his flailing. “We are totally dating.” Even in the dark Derek can see his dumbfounded expression. “How could you not tell me we were dating?”

“Knew you’d figure it out eventually,” Derek mumbles, tangling his fingers in Stiles’ and pulling him back down.

Stiles goes willingly, shifting back so that he’s pressed against Derek’s chest.

“It’s just— all this time we could have been doing… I dunno, boyfriend stuff.”

“We were.”

“Other boyfriend stuff.” Stiles rolls in Derek’s arms so that he’s facing the werewolf. “Like, kissing boyfriend stuff.”

Derek’s laugh is a warm puff that ruffles Stiles’ hair. “We have so much time for ‘boyfriend stuff’” He presses his lips against Stiles’ temple. “In the morning.”

#sterek #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #eternal sterek #teenwolffanfic

96 notes · View notes

lovebugmusings · 4 years ago

Text

The Manager || Platonic! Sunset Curve x Reader

Requested by anon

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: the guys swear because nobody can tell me that a bunch of 17 year olds in a rock band in the 90’s didn’t swear. I know i said fluff but i had an angst idea and it was too good not to add (i’m sorry). and while i don’t bother with adjusting to the american spelling most of the time, I did for ‘mom’ and ‘flavor’ and i hated it every time i typed it. final note: if i were to do more parts it would become a series rewrite, so if that’s something that interests you, let me know!

Warnings: character death, unhappy home life (no details)

While being the manager for Sunset Curve often felt closer to being a parent sometimes, it’s not a job you would trade for the world. Well, less a job because you weren’t really getting paid, but it was a good gig. You got to see some awesome venues and other small musicians, you quite often got free food from venues, and of course, got to hang out with your favourite boys. They gave you a place in the world, somewhere where you felt at home. They were family. Plus, Luke had graciously allowed you to crash in the studio with him when things got bad at home.

You swing the door open, duffle bag over your shoulder, and march into the studio. It’s late, again, but your parents had started going off while you were trying to study and your father had mentioned your name, so you grabbed the emergency bag and climbed out the window. Luke looks up from his page and watches as you drop the bag on the ground and flop face down on the sofa.

“Again?” You hum and nod into the pillow before flipping onto your back.

“Dad said my name and mentioned something about grades and the band and I left before they could drag me into it further.” You glance over to see he has closed his journal and is resting his forearms on the acoustic in his lap.

“Smart move.” You laugh and shift again to lay on your side. “The guys are in the house getting food by the way.” As if on queue, Reggie walks in with a stack of pizza boxes, Bobby has his arms full of bags of various snacks, and Alex is carrying an open cooler full of bottles of soda.

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Alex raises the fingers on one hand in a wave before putting the cooler on the ground in front of the sofa.

“Parents again?” Bobby gives you a sympathetic look before dropping the bags next to the pizza boxes Reggie had put on the coffee table.

“Yep!” You pop the ‘p’ sound with false enthusiasm.

“You may as well just move in at this point.” Luke says it like a joke, but it’s been a joke for so long that you all know he says it seriously.

“You know what?” You sit up quickly and give a short nod. “My parents both have work tomorrow, you lot are gonna help me grab what I need.” It was that simple. The boys all make varying statements of agreement before sitting on the miscellaneous chairs around the coffee table.

Luke had suggested you all dress in black for the heisting of your belongings, and as Alex was the only voice of reason, you all ended up head-to-toe in black.

“Shh.” Luke whips around and presses a finger to his lips when you swing the door shut behind the group.

“There is literally nobody home Luke. And also this is my house. We don’t need to be quiet.” You gesture around the entrance with your hands as you speak, and Luke turns around and pulls the black beanie he insisted you wear, down over your eyes. You swat him away and he shushes Reggie as he laughs at you.

“It’s a heist! You gotta be quiet.” You roll your eyes after putting the beaning back in place on your head, before walking towards the staircase. “Everyone remember the plan?” Turning around you fold your arms and roll your eyes again.

“School stuff.” Bobby salutes Luke, who nods.

“Blankets and pillows!” Reggie copies Bobby’s salute, and is also nodded at. Alex rolls his eyes, and with far less enthusiasm holds his hand in a salute.

“Stuffing and zipping up bags.” Luke nods once more then turns to you with an expectant look.

“Toiletries and underwear.” He taps his foot and clears his throat dramatically, staring at you, waiting. “Oh, right.” You salute him as well.

“And I’m on clothes!” You hear the noise of his hand hitting his forehead as he salutes with a bit too much force. “And if we hear the ‘rents, we move to Y/N’s room as quietly as possible, where we will finish packing what we have and bail out the window. Let’s move out!” You aren’t sure if he expected you all to go separate ways, but you move as a group up the stairs and into your room so that everyone can collect bags. Bobby takes your school bag, Reggie a duffle bag, and Luke and Alex reef a suitcase out from the top of your wardrobe. You swing a drawstring bag over your shoulder as you watch Luke nearly drop the suitcase on Alex, who promptly swears at him.

With a final salute, you all part ways. You hear Bobby thundering down the stairs as you walk over to the bathroom, rolling our eyes at him. Grabbing your toiletries, including spare deodorants and toothpastes, before moving back into your bedroom where your drawers have been pulled open and clothes are being tossed onto the bed by Luke. You can only watch in horror and amazement as your clothes are thrown out of the drawers, and Alex folds them at an incredible speed. You want to ask him how he is folding them so quickly, but you don’t want to break his concentration. Instead you move to the unopened drawer and collect all your underwear, shoving it into the bag in your hands on top of the items already in the bag. You grab your hairbrush, adding it to the bag, before pulling the strings on the bag and closing it.

“Need a hand, Alex?” He looks up after placing a folded shirt neatly in the suitcase. He opens his mouth to respond but instead snorts as you are hit in the head with a pair of jeans.

“Shit, sorry!” You pull the jeans from over your shoulder and glare at Luke, who has his hands covering his mouth.

“Screw you.” You flip him off, then fold the jeans and place them in the suitcase.

The three of you managed to empty all your drawers and were in the process of sorting out what heavier jackets to take from your closet when you hear a door close, followed by thundering feet. The door is swung open and Bobby leans against the doorframe.

“Mother.” Is all he manages to get out before Reggie tries to push past him and they both tumble into your room, making a thump as they land.

“Shhh!” You and Luke push your index fingers to your lips, shushing the guys at the same time, but it’s too late.

“Y/N?” You all freeze as your mom calls out for you. You turn to the guys, left index finger still pushed to your mouth, as you point to the window with quick and sharp motions. They all nod and collect the bags and suitcases (a second was grabbed at some point in their packing) and move to the window. You don’t want your mom to know you are home to avoid whatever argument will undoubtedly occur, hence the attempt at silence, but when Reggie drops the suitcase he’s carrying with a echoing thud, you realise that won’t be possible.

“Shit. I’ll meet you at the car. Go!” You whisper harshly at the guys as he raises his hand to apologise and you leave your room, shutting the door behind you to hopefully muffle any more noises they make and buy them some more time. “Yeah mom?” Your mom waits at the bottom of the stairs, arms folded, as you make your way down. “What’s up?” You try to mask your anxiety about the whole situation by leaning against the railing.

“Don’t ‘what’s up’ me. You disappeared last night, and while I know you were at the studio with the band, you could have at least called to let me know that you were okay. Because really I didn’t know for sure because you didn’t call! You could have even called me this morning to say you were coming home. I had no way of knowing if you were safe, or, or, or if something had happened. I didn’t know!”

“Mom-” You try to say something to calm her down but she interrupts, clearly not finished with her lecture.

“And you’re letting your grades slip! Running around with those stupid boys in that stupid band. You say you’re their manager, but it’s not a job and it’s definitely not a career! You need to pay more attention to class instead of going to clubs and venues with them. Which isn’t safe! Running around Hollywood with those four idiots in the middle of the night, sometimes not even coming home. There are all kinds of dangerous people out there and with no adult supervision anything could happen!”

“Mom!”

“No. Your father isn’t right about a lot of things but he’s definitely right about not letting you see them again. Being friends with them is dangerous, not because they are, but because none of you have any common sense or self preservation!”

“Mom, enough.” You rarely stood up to her, and you had never scolded her before, but calling the only four people that truly felt like family ‘idiots’ was the last straw. “I know it isn’t a job, but they are my best friends, and I enjoy going to those venues! I know it could be dangerous but the five of us are always together. My grades haven’t slipped, except maybe a couple of classes by one or two percent. But it’s not going to ruin me. And-” The door slams shut and you look up quickly from your mother to see your father in the door.

“Y/N.” Your father speaks very even and monotone, and his moves are all calculated. But his hands are clenched and his eyebrows are furrowed.

“Hi dad.” It was overly formal, and your brain screams at you to run, run from this conversation. But you can’t. You need to make sure the guys are as far away as possible, hopefully even at the car. You don’t think your father would track them down to stop you, but you don’t want to tell your parents you are leaving, and really you weren’t actually sure he wouldn’t track them down and drag you home. “How was work?” Poking the bear was very stupid.

“You disappeared last night, didn’t bother to leave a note or anything and scared the shit out of your mother!” You flinch slightly as he raises his voice. “You won’t be seeing that ridiculous band ever again, I can promise you that.” You glance at the clock and quickly decide that the guys have had enough time to get to Bobby’s car parked in the next street over. So you nod along in faux understanding. “You’re grounded, and you will spend the rest of the night until dinner studying.” You scoff and try to act pissed off, storming back up the stairs. To add to the act, you slam the door shut behind you, before grabbing a hoodie and climbing out the window.

You sneak around the house, watching your parents carefully as they move to the living room. They seem to be arguing again, almost certainly about you. You hop the fence into the neighbours yard then book it down the street to the waiting car. The engine is going and the second Reggie sees you, the windows are rolled down and they are yelling at you to hurry up, Bobby leaning over to open the passenger-side door. You laugh as you dive into the passenger seat. The door is barely shut when Bobby revs the engine and you drive away, a rock song from a mixtape you had made Bobby for his birthday playing loudly through the speaker and the five of you singing along and laughing.

“Boys I have excellent news!” Wrong notes are played and a drumstick is dropped as you fling open the door with a piece of paper in your hand.

“Christ, Y/N.” Bobby places a hand to his heart as Alex leans down to pick back up his drumstick.

“What’s the news?” Luke places his guitar on a stand and slides over to you.

“Sit sit!” You gesture your boys towards the sofa on the opposite wall. “I won’t just tell you, there’s no fun in that!” They groan but comply, squashing together on the sofa, Alex with his legs over Luke’s, Reggie sitting cross-legged with his feet under him, and Bobby putting his feet up on the coffee table.

“Well?” Luke leans forward over Alex’s feet and rests his elbows on his knees.

“As you know I have been going around to potential venues to get you guys a show that isn’t in a bar that perpetually smells like puke, while you are playing your puke-scented shows and writing new hits.”

“Yeah.” They all reply at the same time and your smile grows.

“And I am also the best manager in the world, especially because of the fact that I am your manager.”

“Yeah yeah. Just tell us.”

“Bobby, quiet. I am building suspense.” Reggie swats his arm as if to say ‘yeah Bobby’. “Anyway. You also know that you are all incredibly talented and you will become the biggest band every.” The guys are all leaning forward and staring at you, waiting for you to finally tell them what news you’ve bought. “Alex, drumroll.” He immediately complies with an enthusiastic drumroll on Luke’s back. “You’re playing the Orpheum!” You throw your hands up as the guys all jump up and celebrate. “Are you serious?” Bobby grabs the piece of paper with the show contract as Reggie picks himself up off the floor after tripping over his feet trying to stand.

“How did you do that?” Luke is jumping on the sofa and Alex is shaking you by the shoulders.

“I’m just that good.” You manage so say through the laughing and shaking.

“Size beautiful.” You roll your eyes as Alex groans and Reggie hands the poor bartender the shirt and demo.

“Thanks.” She laughs as she holds up the Sunset Curve shirt before tossing it over her shoulder.

“I am so sorry about him.” You say genuinely to her, stood between Reggie and Luke.

“No worries. I’ll make sure not to wipe the table down with this one.” She offers them all a polite smile that you can tell is a forced customer service smile.

“Oh, good call. Whenever they get wet, they just kinda fall apart in your hands.” Alex gestures with his hands and you hear Bobby sigh.

“Don’t you guys have to go get hotdogs?” Oh? You realise that Bobby very likely wants to flirt with Bartender Rose and is trying to get rid of you all, finding his bandmates embarrassing sometimes. Luke pushes him back and nudges you with his shoulder as he leans over the bar, giving it a quick drum with his hands.

“Yeah, he had a hamburger for lunch.” He bounces then walks away, and Reggie shoves his shoulder.

“See you before the show.” You elbow him as you follow after Luke and Reg, and Alex bounces to catch up to you.

You eye the hotdog as it is handed over to you. You trust the guys but you don’t trust this hotdog ‘vender’ who is the sauce bottle sitting in his engine. You watch as Alex tells him that he spilt pickle juice into the car as you add sauces and toppings to your own. The vender says that it will help and laughs as Alex sputters, looking at you mumbling about how that doesn’t sound right.

“That’s a new flavor.” You nod, continuing to chew as Alex says what you are thinking through a mouth full of hotdog.

“Relax,” Reggie looks over at him, “street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” The logic is sound enough so you all take another bite.

You stomach hurt, god it hurt. It was like being punched in the gut over and over again, and your stomach was turning, and with every breath in your sides hurt. You could hear Reggie and Alex groaning over your own noises, but you couldn’t hear Luke anymore. You felt the tears rolling down the sides of your face but you couldn’t move your hands away from your stomach. You barely heard the paramedics arrive over the sound of the blood rushing through your ears, and while you could hear them talking you couldn’t decipher words.

You let out a sob as a paramedic leans over you. You barely register being lifted onto an ambulance bed, but you turn your head and watch as Alex is lifted into one. As they wheel you out you see a black bag being zipped up.

You feel light headed as they lift you into the ambulance and you hear Reggie gulp in a breath, before the paramedics swarm over to him. Alex is wheeled in next to you and you see his hand reach out to you. You forcefully peel your hand away from your stomach and hold his hand. You squeeze your eyes shut and hear the paramedic sigh, defeated. You let out a groan, then a sob, and squeeze Alex’s hand as you struggle to breathe. He lets out a pained noise and squeezes your hand back.

Then it’s all gone, and your body is rising. You turn to Alex and see your body, and Reggie’s body, with a version of him floating above his body. You stare at him wide-eyed but he looks past you at Alex. You both watch as the paramedics give up on you and move over to Alex as the heart rate monitor gives a solid high beep. And then he’s rising and looking at you and Reggie. The three of you rise above the ambulance and you hear Alex whisper Luke’s name, looking above just you. You catch sight of him for a second before he disappears. The second he does you feel the pulling that was simply causing you to slowly float up, gave a harsh tug and you were suddenly in a black room.

Alex cried when he arrived, and you felt yourself panic. You were dead. You just died. You and three of your best friends had just died. Reggie was pacing and Luke had just sat on the ground, head in hands. Your own hands were shaking and you couldn’t look at one spot or person for longer than a second.

The pulling feeling returns after a while and you are falling, the four of you screaming before landing on a carpet, a girl around your age screaming back at you.

---

Taglist: @parkeret @marinettepotterandplagg @amazing-socks (if you want to be added to a tag list, send in an ask!)

#sunset curve x reader #julie and the phantoms x reader #platonic sunset curve #jatp x reader #platonic jatp x reader #platonic julie and the phantoms x reader #platonic sunset curve x reader #platonic reggie x reader #platonic luke patterson x reader #platonic alex x reader #char writes #redhoodparker-writes masterlist #platonic julie and the phantoms #gender neutral #this may end up as a series but i don't know if i want to commit to multiple series'#though not sure if i want to let go won't be a series

199 notes · View notes

sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years ago

Text

Rose Red’s All Hallows Eve: Ticket Please?

Summary- 4.2k Curtis Everett x You. Your boyfriend got you tickets to a charity Haunted House, and the special features include immersed scenes from the movie of your choice. Once you hear that the one and only Curtis Everett from Snowpiercer is a part of the choices, you just have to go. Prepare for a night of apocalyptic fun!

Warnings- Blood/Gore, brutal killings, swears.

A/N- Written for @jtargaryen18 Haunted House 2020. This is a 3 chapter story that will be posted within a few days of one another. Be sure to read the warnings for each chapter. The page dividers were made by @firefly-graphics , I highly suggest checking out her work, its really excellent and a bit of everything to choose from. The manor described in this story, Rose Red, is a piece of work from Stephen King, and I highly suggest watching the tv mini series, if you can find it. Perfect for this time of year. Special thanks to @what-is-your-plan-today for being my Beta in this project. Happy Reading and Haunting! 😈🎃

“What do you mean Bryce that you can’t come? You promised you would! When is New York State ever going to open Rose Red to be explored like this again Bryce?” You spoke into your cell phone while looking in the mirror, currently doing a french braid to keep your hair out of your face. Your expression reflected back at you was a mixture of fury and disbelief. You had only been talking about this charity for 6 months, and here was your boyfriend backing out after he’d promised to come with you numerous times.

“Something came up with Maya, okay? You know my sister can’t do anything without fucking it up. Besides it's just a house”

“Bryce, don’t talk about your sister that way.” You sighed exasperatedly before your voice dropped slightly conveying your disappointment “And it's not just a house, it's just the most haunted manor and grounds in New York. They had it condemned supposedly just for that reason! You really can’t come?”

“You know that shit isn't real. Sorry Baby, but why don’t you take one of your friends? How about that Karen chick?”

You gave a sigh and roll of the eyes, Bryce never bothered to get to know any of your friends, not like you did with his friends. “You mean Stacey? Her name isn’t Karen.”

“Well, she’s like a Karen.” He retorted with a condescending tone.

“Whatever Bryce, I’m hanging up now.” you snapped out, he was being an ass especially considering this entire night had actually started out as a treat to him from you.

“Hey, Hey, I was kidding. Take Stacey. You know I wouldn’t be any fun, I never liked Snowpiercer, remember?”

“That’s not the point Bryce…” you sighed again.

“Look, go have fun with Stacey, and tomorrow morning I will pick you up, we can go for a drive down the coast, just the two of us. Maybe have a long weekend in Hampton. How does that sound? I will even take you to that hotel you like. That one right on the beach with the view we stayed at last summer. We had fun there, didn’t we Sweetness.” now his tone was a hint of teasing and promise, and although you were still mad that he ditched you again, you felt a warmth bloom in your chest that he was trying to make it right.

You bit your lip remembering, it had been a fantastic vacation, and Bryce really showed you a good time without ever having to leave the room. At your silence he gave a chuckle of triumph. “That’s what I thought, I'm gonna call them right now. Have fun tonight baby.”

“Okay, but you better be here bright and early Bryce. Love-” Before you could even say the words, he hung up, and you hit the end call button, trying to get over the feeling of disappointment before you called Stacey. You could already hear what she would say, but as your best friend, she would be there. She always was. Dialing her number, you pulled out the tickets from your purse, allowing yourself a smile.

What could you say, you were a fangirl. Snowpiercer was such an intricate dark story, you had fallen in love with it the first time you watched it on Netflix. So when Bryce mentioned his grandfather was helping sponsor a haunted house charity at the town's resident creepy manor, and it was featuring several film sets. Including none other than Snowpiercer, you just had to have all the details. It even went as far as Bryce having his grandfather putting in a good word of how much of a fan you were to get you in. You scrimped and saved, Bryce as well helped you with paying for the tickets. You had really wanted to do this with him too. No, he didn’t share your love for the story, but he was your boyfriend and Halloween was your favorite holiday. It was something you two could have shared.

Oh well, next year we will do what he wants to do, you thought to yourself waiting for Stacey to pick up her phone.

A familiar voice answered, jerking you from your thoughts. “What’s up? I thought you would have already left for the charity function?” Stacey questioned.

“Slight change of plans, something came up with Maya, and Bryce can’t make it.”

“Big surprise.” the answer made you wince, cause this wasn’t the first time you called Stacey about Bryce. “You want some company? I can be ready by the time you get here?”

“Please?” you already had your purse over your shoulder and were heading out the door as she answered.

“Don’t worry girl, I got you. See you in a few.”

The line to get into the grounds was long, cars piled up as the two of you pulled to a stop. Stacey leaned forward to look out the windshield, giving a soft whistle. “Damn, they pulled out all the stops for this charity, didn’t they? Isn’t that the Rose Red Manor?”

“Yea, they were able to get it for the night from the Governor. Pretty crazy since this place has been condemned, they were supposed to demolish it back when Ellen Rimbauer’s grandson sold it to New York. You know the stories here, don’t you? Men die, Women disappear never to be seen again. The house somehow has random room built on out of nowhere. No one actually knows how many rooms Rose Red has, and the grounds are much larger then the records state.” You let your foot off the brake, easing forward.

“Shut up, that’s not true.” Stacey gave a shudder and you laughed, winking in a teasing manner. “How does a house keep getting bigger? I say bullshit.”

“It’s all just for spooks, the place is safe or else they wouldn’t let us on the grounds.”

“If I die Y/N, I’m haunting you.” Stacey jibed back, pulling up to the concession stand, and you rolled down your window.

“How many, and what set are you here to visit?” a tired voice sounded at you while you pulled the tickets out of your purse and handed them out the window.

“2, for the Snowpiercer, Curtis Everett set.”

The redhead took your tickets, her green eyes flickering to check them before she gave a slight smirk of perfectly painted ruby lips. She leaned forward, to look into the car. “Curtis Everett you say? A personal favorite of mine, the set reminds me a bit of home.” Your eyes flickered to her name tag, reading Natasha Romanoff, it sounded Russian, where it is assumed the train derailed at the end of the film. “Curtis is a bit intimidating, but don’t get scared, it's all a part of the show.” She stamped your tickets and collected bracelets, handing them back to you which you and Stacey both snapped onto your wrists. “Enjoy, and make sure you have those tickets on you. The Wilford on set will be looking to collect them. Bozhe, pomiluy tebya.” God have mercy on you.

Your brows came together in confusion at the foreign launguage and gave a nod. “Thanks?”

The woman smiled and snapped her window shut, ending the conversation. Pulling the car away to continue to park, Stacy wrinkled her nose. “What was that about?”

“You got me. I don’t even know what language that was, I’m guessing Russian?” You watch and follow the people directing you to park and are soon in your designated spot. “Whatever, you ready?” The uneasiness slipped away as you got excited, cause lets face it, Curtis Everett had been a crush for you since you saw the movie. And now you were going to see him, well the actor in the role, once again. From what you could tell this charity was an a-list kind of deal, cause after hours of scouring online, you found nothing talking about Chris Evans doing this function. Maybe Bryce was good for something, you thought as you got out of the car, and then chided yourself for being so cruel to your boyfriend. After all, if it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be seeing Curtis or the Snowpiercer set. While you two were walking, apparently the last ones in the queue, you pulled out your phone to send him a message.

Hey, Stacey, and I just got here. Miss you and Love you.

It wasn’t even a few minutes till your phone pinged back

Have a good time and don’t get too scared.

Smiling to yourself at the glowing screen, you stuffed your phone back in your purse and proceeded towards the front where you showed your bracelets.

“Ahh Snowpiercer, you actually go around back. Follow me.” Your host said as he led you around the side of the building, away from the last of the people disappearing inside.

“We're not going into the house?” you couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the idea, it was supposedly one of the most famous haunted houses in New York State. The well-dressed host turned, looking at you for a moment before putting on a suave smile.

“Since you are special guests, I’ll wait for you after your tour with Curtis Everett on Snowpiercer. Give you a proper tour of Rose Red. But I assure you, that you’re in for a better treat, this is a truly exclusive walk though as hardly anyone gets to explore this much of Rose Red. Did you know that Ellen Rimbauer also had a private train on the grounds? It’s not documented as extensively as the house is, but many strange occurrences have happened here as well. It’s rumored that a single match light can be seen running up and down the aisles. Workers will be glimpsed from the corner of your eye in the darkest shadows. The ones that have visited the train claim to feel extensive chills, and in the engine, ramblings and whispers of madness can be heard. Most assume it's the conductor, looking for his replacement.” Your host continued, while out of the darkness a massive ominous train loomed, vines all over it, and it almost had a skeletal appearance as windows were busted out of it, and it looked pitch black in all the openings.

“The workers used the train to bring in materials from the harbor to the construction site. And in 1903, a riot happened on the train, the crew claimed that they weren’t being compensated for the conditions, and they demanded better wages. When W. Rimbauer refused them, they put a stop to the train for good. Resulting in many deaths.” Your host led you to the front car, in which a pale man stood with a lantern and a single red rose he was twirling in his fingers, and upon seeing the trio of you, he promptly slipped the delicate flower into his robe and smoothed down his outfit. Giving a wave, he stepped down and you noticed that oddly he was wearing what looked like a luxurious robe, his bald head shining in the glow of the lamp. The more you studied him, the more you thought he looked exactly like Ed Harris in his Wilford role. You were about to ask, when he interrupted you with his own question to the host.

“Blackwood, this the Curtis couple? We were a bit worried you wouldn’t show up tonight. Which is a shame, as Curtis has been waiting for you.” He seemed to direct his answer solely at you, his pale blue eyes glinting gleefully at you, it was the only way you could describe it, but they still sent a shiver down your back. Ed Harris or not, he was a good Wilford, you thought to yourself as you tried not to let his act give you the creeps. Stacey pulled in closer to you, hooking her arm through yours and whispering.

“You sure we should go on this train? It’s pretty fucking creepy back here. And where is everyone else?”

Blackwood cleared his throat with a smile. “Now ladies, the Curtis scene was very exclusive. In fact, only you two were able to get tickets. Seeing how it’s away from the main house. But I’m going to leave you in the capable hands of Wilford here as I must return for the next group. I will be back soon to give you a house tour afterward. You ladies enjoy the fully immersed experience.”

Your host left you with Wilford, who lifted his lamp to show a path that led down the side of the train. “It’s just a way down here, Curtis will meet you inside, and take you on the tour of Snowpiercer. Now, remember, he will not be breaking character as is per his instructions. We want this to be as authentic as possible.”

You and Stacey follow along behind his seemingly smooth stride, both of you tripping up a bit although Wilford seemed to have no issues with the uneven ground. Both of you were panting a bit when he came to a stop, and held a hand up to a ladder, leading into the darkest opening you’ve ever seen.

“There are no lights inside?” You drawled out and Stacey braced her hand against the train to catch her breath.

“How the hell are we supposed to see? And climb in with heels? No one told us that this was going to be an expedition just to see a movie set.” the woman snapped out, and Wilford turned that gaze from you to Stacey, giving a cold smile.

“It will all come on once you're inside, everything is in its preordained place in Snowpiercer and we are allowing you to really see it all come to life. But before you two go on, can I have your tickets please? No one goes onto the snowpiercer without one.” His grin turned eerie in the shadows on the lantern he had brought with him, and you were quick to look away from it,

Fuck he is weird. You shudder, while searching your bag and handing over both tickets. He immediately put them in his robe and held the lantern up so you could see a bit better to get inside. Grasping the ladder, you start to climb in, Stacey following right behind, holding onto the back of your shirt. One you stumbled in, and Stacey did too, you both turned to look back out, expecting Wilford to follow you in, but the door slammed shut, and a shudder went through the train, hard enough so you both yelped, falling into each other.

“Y/N! What the fuck is this? We have to get out of here.” You could feel Stacey digging into your arms in a panic, and you stumbled back to where the door was, your hands slamming against freezing cold metal, your palms pounding on the vibrating metal.

“Why is it vibrating? WHY IS THE TRAIN MOVING?” You started to yell, and Stacey moved up next to you, also slamming her palms against the metal walls. Blinding light made you both yelp and cover your eyes, stumbling to land in a heap when you pulled your arm away from your face, blinking to get your pupils to focus. It was an empty train cart, windows that appeared to be filled with bright natural light lined the walls, and at each end, metal doors that have yet to be opened. Stacey takes the first tentative moves to stand up, pulling herself to look out a window and her eyes widened in disbelief.

“What is it?” You ask as you start to push yourself up to a stand, and she shakes her head as if to shake whatever she was seeing away, muttering over and over.

“What the fuck?”

You make your way over, and all you can see is snow. Snow and ice, speeding past like this train were actually able to run on a track. Buildings encased in snow, making way to nothing but white, everywhere. Even the windows had frost encasing around the edges, your breaths fogging the glass.

“How? What?” you question, beyond confused and rubbing at your face to look again. How the hell could this be? You go to reach in your bag for your phone, and look down to see it is gone. And not just your phone, your bag. Scanning the train, there was no sign of it. Panic settled in a little more now that you didn't have a way to call for help should you need it.

Stacey pressed her fingers to the glass, her tone a bit shrill as if she was trying to convince herself it was make believe. “Gotta be like we're watching a screen right? Just supposed to look like the trains moving.” Although the train gave another shudder, swaying back and forth.

You never got an answer, as one end the doors swung open and people wearing all black spilled into the train, all carrying axes, faces masked so you couldn’t see anything discernible about them. Except for flashing teeth among happy grins. Each one hefting their ax like it was a toy. Your confused addled brain screamed at you to pay attention. Danger. But you were in too much of a shock to really focus.

Another whoosh and you spin around to see who was coming out the other side, Stacey whimpering in fear next to you, still staring at the first group. But your eyes raked over these men, dirty and worn looking. The one in front had a wide stance, his feet braced against the rocking of the train like he was familiar with it. A black trench coat swept around him, ragged sweaters piled over a broad chest and your gaze fell onto a familiar hard face, scanning his opponent, drawing himself into a more fighting stance. Curtis Everett.

“Oh shit” it dawns on you what scene this was and you draw Stacey closer to you, and back against a wall.

“What? Oh god, I don’t understand what is happening.” Stacey said in a panicked voice, and you shook her a bit.

“I don’t know either, but stay out of everyone’s way, okay? Those axes are not fakes!” The weapons they held were clearly not props, the heavy blade handles slapped in palms, and gleamed in the winter sun streaming through the windows. A touch would easily slice into anything. And these two groups look ready to hack into each other.

“Shouldn’t they help us get out?” Stacey’s eyes rolled wildly, and you gulped, seeing the large trout get passed up, and just as you guessed, the ax easily sliced into the fish’s flesh, drizzling blood down to see along the edge, dripping down the handle and to the floor.

“I don't think so Stace…” You whipped back to look at the opposing group, feeling Curtis’s gaze seeking yours with a glimmer of hatred and confusion behind them. For half a second, then it was back on their enemies. You could see it, the taunting lunges each group made, and just when they both broke for each other, you screamed and yanked Stacey down onto the ground as they all collided. Attempting to avoid stomping feet and falling blades, you two tried to stick to the wall, screaming and covering your heads, blood splattering everywhere above you in hot sticky sprays that rained down on your two.

Stacey wouldn’t stop screaming, her voice piercing above the noise of the fighting, bodies started to litter the floor, and you tried to make your way towards one of the exits, your hands and knees slipping in warm fluid. Over bodies you dragged yourself when Stacey’s screaming changed to one of pain and panic. Looking over your shoulder, she was getting dragged away by her ankles, her fingers trying to find a hold in the floor, nails raking through the blood to create long rakes through all the red.

“Y/N! Y/N! Help!” she continued to scream, and you twisted to go back for her when she was whipped to her back and her arms came up in defense, trying to cover her face or neck.

“No!”

Whump! This is when you lost all your control and started to scramble back for her. There was so much screaming and you never realized it was coming from you.

Whump! The ax planted in Stacey’s chest and she jerked upwards, trying to push the blade away, and the militants foot planted on her stomach, yanking her loose. You would still see her moving, still alive. You were closer.

Whump! this one landed on her skull, blonde hair turning stringy red and his boot planted on her face this time, crushing in her forehead and nose as he yanked it out, once more red spray flew through the air.

Several whacks fell on her, over and over, spraying you with each yank the axe gave off Stacey's body, the militant man grinning as her blood sprayed all over him, you, any nearby person.

You were in shock, your hands to your mouth, as you saw Stacy's body collapse into broken pieces, blood spurting out of her mouth and she went limp right in front of you. His gaze fell to you and his wide bloody grin looked like he just won the prize, his axe lifting when he was suddenly thrown back and slaughtered himself. You didn't pay attention to who took him out, only catching sight of a whipping coat snapping in the person's actions, you turned towards your best friend's body, convinced she might still be alive. This was all just for fun, pretend after all, right? Snowpiercer and the Revolution did not exist.

“Sss-Stacey?” you crawled over to her, your hands cupping her broken face and leaning over her still warm form, doing your best to hold what remained of her face together, as if you could just piece it back together like a puzzle. You kept shaking her, although she had several gaping holes in her body.

“Come on Stacey, we got to move.” you sobbed over her, unaware once more of what was going on.

You didn’t notice the fighting stop or the survivors rush to look out the windows in a panic, but you did feel a hand yank the back of your shirt to slam you into the wall and keep you pinned in place. Even as you struggled to get back to Stacey’s body, lying lifeless. You didn’t notice any of these things till a growl snarled in your ear. “Girl, stop it! What’s wrong with you?” A vicious shake thudded your head against the wall, and the crack against the back of your skull made your eyes roll back in pain. The world tipped upside down, Curtis’s scowling cut face tipped around, and you went under, the blackness welcomed from the hell you just experienced.

“Hey Curtis, she’s awake.” was the first thing you heard, your head pounding and when you started to pry your lids open, figures were blurry, moving around, flashes of light blinding you till they were blocked back out by bodies. You gave a moan and lifted your hand to your face when the larger one slapped it away, and the cold slick hand grasped your throat, dragging you forward. “Focus Bitch, we don’t have all day.” Your eyes snapped obediently to Curtis, fearful and wide-eyed as you took him in.

In the movie, he was large, towering over others. Here, as he was staring you down, face contorted to semi-controlled rage, and leaning over you so you could feel his hot breath wash over his face, how the blood dried to crack along his cheek, and eyes that you swore were debating snapping your neck.

“I don’t understand what is going-”

“Shut the fuck up, you’re not asking questions here. Wilford sent you?”

“Wilford? Yes, yes.” You stutter, his fingers squeeze further and you can feel the hot tears streaming down your face, landing on his filthy hands. “He put Stacey and I in here, m-m-my friend. She was…” Your eyes rolled to where her body was twisted strangely, smeared in gore from where she slid around, or someone tripped over her. All you knew is her eyes started up at nothing now. Her wounds were gaping and bled out.

Curtis gave you a shake, his snarl brought you back to him. “She was what? What did Wilford send you two back here for?”

“We were here for a charity! I was supposed to meet Chris Evans, You as Curtis Everett.” your voice started to rise in a panic, your hands grasping his wrist at your neck. “That’s it, why is the train moving? Why are you all using real axes, fuck I just want to get off.” You sobbed, the survivors looked at you with disgust, shaking their heads.

“Once you’re on the Snowpiercer, there is no getting off.” Curtis leaned back a bit, looking you up and down as if inspecting you curiously. “You’re such a fragile little thing. Just like a baby bird, all brittle bones and helpless.”

“No getting off? What are you even talking about?” your tears started to sting your eyes, the panic settling deep in your chest like your heart was about to explode.

Curtis ignored your question, his free hand tugging at your thin sweater and shaking his head. “Fucker didn’t even send you back here properly dressed.”

You tried to struggle and Curtis slammed you back hard enough to make you stop.

“She’s fucking whacked out of her gourd. Gotta be a kronole head someone spouting that shit.” A young man said behind Curtis, and he got in your face, tapping your cheek smartly. “Girl snap out of it, that shite fucking rotted your brain.”

“No Edgar, this is different, she's lying. Good at it, but lying.” Curtis made to stand, dragging you up with him. You stumble in his hold, falling against his body before he dragged you along, hissing in your ear.

“I don’t know what Wilford was thinking Little Bird, sending you back to me with this innocent act of yours. But don’t worry I will make you sing.”

#jshauntedhouse2020 #curtis everett #curtis everett x you #snowpiercer #curtis everett fanfic #snowpiercer fanfic #dark curtis everett #amber writes #sweater writes #halloween 2020 #halloween #fanfic

218 notes · View notes