#- serious lingering problem if you overwork yourself' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rek1s-headband · 3 years

Note

hi could i request something? basically just HCS about langa and reki when you guy get into a fight or sum idk LMFAOO, you dont have to do this if you dont want to tho <3

➯ A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy. I added a few characters, hope you don’t mind:)

➯ When you guys get into a fight

➯ Characters: Langa Hasegawa, Reki Kyan, Kaoru Sakurashiki, Kojiro Nanjou, Hiromi Higa and Miya Chinen x gn reader

➯ Warnings: angst if you squint, fluff

Langa:

Ok the majority of your fights are generally because of a miscommunication. If things aren’t spelled out for the poor boy, he’ll be completely oblivious to what’s bothering you

When you finally snap, he always seems shocked, asking why you hadn’t said anything sooner, even if you’d been trying to hint at it all week

Not really one to shout, but if things get heated enough he might snap. He always feels awful afterwards though. No matter what, he really believes no one should be screamed at because of something as silly as a disagreement

Rarely storms out, he’s always going to try and stay until the end to try and get something, anything out of you that he can use to try and understand your point of view

Understands space. He knows when you dont feel like talking to him, and he will give you that time to collect your thoughts. When you’re ready to speak again, he’s all ears

Gets overwhelmed really easy. It doesnt really show in what he says, but when you raise your voice his brain goes to putty and he can feel his breath get narrow. He’s not scared, he just doesn’t want to be the reason you’re feeling like this.

Never lets you go to bed angry. He’ll give you your space, but if you’re still quiet by bedtime he’s making sure you’ve eaten and you’re not still really upset by whatever played out that day

Overthinks a lot. How long did he not realise you were upset? What if its actually a much bigger deal than you’re letting on? What if you leave? Of course, he knows a lot of it is completely irrational, but it still lingers in the back of his mind, so you can imagine how relieved he is when the fight is over and you’re back in his arms

Asks people for advice a lot. Reki and Cherry are usual helpers, giving Langa their opinions on the matter without going into too much detail. The rest is up to him.

Gives the best hugs and comfort after a fight. He understands couples can fight, and never really takes the aggression let out by the pair of you too seriously. Rubbing the back of your head and holding you close to his chest, he’ll reassure you that he’s not going anywhere, that he’s not going to leave “just because of a silly fight” while you fight back tears on his shoulder.

Reki

Unlike Langa, Reki is a very open person in terms of his feelings, so your fights are rarely because of closed away emotions. However, many are caused by you feeling he is spending too much time in his workshop, overworking himself and not spending as much time with you as he should.

As for Reki, he gets mad when he feels you’re being closed off from him, not telling him things and hiding your true emotions. It’s not that he doesnt trust you, he just doesnt want you shouldering anything by yourself, and tries to make things easier for you by halving the problem.

A very emotional person, and this really shows when the two of you argue. There’s a lot of tears, a lot of raised voices, yknow those exhausted laughs when you’re tired of arguing with someone? Those. He pulls at his hair a lot in frustration too

Both of you need to walk away from each other a lot during arguments. You’re both driven by your emotions, so its hard to think logically once you’ve both gotten really upset.

The type to sit outside a door after an argument if you’ve locked yourself in a room, pressing against it and quietly talking to you, regardless of whether or not he gets a response

Understands space, to a certain extent. He’ll try and talk to you after an argument, try anything to get you to just answer him, to come out from your room, to stop ignoring him. He knows when you really don’t want to face him though, which is when he’ll go out for a while, either to Langa’s for advice, or just for a quiet skate.

Despite how upset he gets in the moment, he gets over it quickly. Once he’s out of his head and seeing properly, he’ll take some time to think it over and see things from your point of view. He’ll come back to you with an apology, and when you’re ready to talk, he’ll discuss things with you this time around instead of fighting

If the fight lasts overnight, he refuses to let you take the couch. If he feels a fight will last, he’ll glue himself to the couch, making it impossible for you to sleep anywhere other than your bed. No matter what the fight was about, he refuses to have you sleep uncomfortably.

Tends to cry after making up. It’s rarely out of sadness, of course, more relief than anything. He’s just happy to have you back in his arms, no longer ignoring him.

Cherry

A very rational person, fights are very rare between the pair of you. When you do fight, it tends to be because you feel he’s being closed off from you, not being as open and emotional with you. As for him, he doesnt like when you act too aloof about things that are actually serious to him

Fights start out quiet, talking in normal tones and using your heads. However, as the fight goes on, your voices gradually get higher and louder, arms thrown in the air as you get in each other’s faces.

He snaps quite a bit. Petty remarks, snappy replies and other unnecessary comments are thrown out without much thought as he gets more pissed off. Not necessarily because he doesn’t have anything to defend himself, but because once he’s started, he’ll do just about anything to piss you off

Depending on the fight, it could last an hour or a week. Both of you are so petty that you’ll refuse to apologise to the other, forgetting who was even in the wrong in the first place

Honestly, whoever goes to sleep first gets the bed, he’s not as considerate as Reki. However, as the fight goes on, the pair of you will stay up for ungodly hours into the night, trying to outlast the other because they dont want them sleeping on the couch. You’ll never admit that though, which is why you wont just fall asleep on the couch first. Besides, if you happen to fall asleep on the couch before Kaoru goes to bed, he’ll carry you upstairs and sleep on the couch himself. He’ll never admit that though, he’ll simply say you woke up and went upstairs in a hazy half-sleep, which is why you dont remember.

He’s definitely programmed Carla to apologise to you for him at least once, rolling her into the room you’re in before quickly walking out to the sound of “Y/N, I-am-very-sorry-and-I-was-wrong-please-forgive-me” in Carlas robotic voice

If you ever go to Joe’s restaurant to cool down, he’ll make a big fuss, swaying and sighing, dramatically shouting about “however will these lovers reconcile!?” Once his act is over though, he’ll comfort you and give you your favourite meal, tutting over the pair of you and thinking of ways to help you make up

Literally won’t let you go of you for at least a week after you fight. This mf is hanging off you, constant forehead kisses, the whole deal. He’s gone without your affection for a long time while you fought, he’s simply making up for lost time

Joe

You get really pissed at him when he flirts with other girls. He doesn’t mean to, he’s just a bit of a girl magnet and it’s his nature to entertain them. Of course, he all yours, but he forgets sometimes that jealousy is actually a thing

Doesnt take arguments as seriously as he probably should. He’s the type to tell you to “calm down” in the worst possible moment, its usually what makes you explode, actually.

Absolutely dense. The type to listen to you shout for five minutes, and only then have the audacity to ask you just what your problem was

It’s not his fault, bless him. He’s just a little unobservant when it comes to your emotions. When he realises you’re actually upset though, he’s apologising profusely and promising to never do it again

His apologies are always so genuine, you generally forgive him. However, if he does something that really pisses you off and you dont forgive him, he’ll give you space to think

Fights are usually resolved within a day. Like Langa, he refuses to let you go to bed angry

Cooks for you every meal regardless of whether or not you eat it. He’ll leave meals outside your door as a sort of truce, quietly pressing against the door and asking you to please come eat with him, that he hates the idea of you holed up in there all alone

Like Kaoru, he tends to reply with snarky remarks that have little to do with the argument, but they have a little less bite to them. More petty, if anything

Another big reason for why fights never last long is because this man literally. Will. Not. Survive. Without. You. You’ll be trying to ignore him while he comes in every five minutes, asking you how to get a certain channel on the TV, or stupid things you know he’s only asking because he misses talking to you

After you make up, he literally wont even look at another girl for at least a week. Mf will literally turn his head the other way if a girl comes near him, shouting about how he’s spoken for

Shadow

The biggest hothead. He says a lot of things he doesn’t mean in the moment, which will cause you to storm out and he’ll immediately regret it

The fight almost immediately escalates past hushed voices, swear words thrown around as you get in each other’s faces

He’ll get really upset, but he’ll mask it with being pissed off and angry, clashing pots around and acting like a literal baby. He doesnt want to admit it, but he always feels awful right after a fight. He knows youll need a bit of space after the intense shouting, so he’ll give you that space before even attempting an apology

Aggressively cares for you. Like he’ll say things like “I made food, it’ll taste like shit if you leave it, so I suggest you have it now” or “nope, I want the couch, I’m gonna watch something” he’ll never admit it, he just wants to make sure you’re alright even while fighting

If the two of you go to S while fighting, it’ll be very obvious. Usually you’re attached at the hip, but now you couldn’t be further apart. However, he’s still looking out for you, keeping an eye on you to make sure you’re alright. If you’re ever getting hit on by some creep, the fight is forgotten and he’s back at your side, daring the stranger to come any closer to you.

Reki is always the first to notice, poking him and pushing you over to him, trying to get the two of you to make up. Surprisingly, it actually does help clear the air

He can never stay mad at you for long though, he’s completely soft for you

Makes you bouquets to try and apologise. He’s taught you a lot about the meanings of flowers, so he’ll specifically pick ones with hidden meanings like “I’m sorry” or “I love you”

Not very good with verbal apologies. He knows when they’re needed though, and they are usually delivered through a series of grumbles and sad expressions. The thought is there though

Gives very gentle, long hugs after you make up. He’ll hold you close, suggesting a date or a movie to help the two of you relax

Miya

Literally the biggest bitch out of the six to fight with. He’s so petty, he will refuse to admit he’s wrong for the longest time. Once he’s in, there’s no accepting he’s not right

At least for a while anyway. He’ll start to feel bad once he sees just how upset you’re getting, frustrated with his inability to see anyone’s point of view but his own

King of the silent treatment. He’ll hide away behind his switch, drowning out his guilty thoughts with the white noise of animal crossing

He’ll skate to take his mind off things, practicing new tricks until he’s exhausted

Makes really snide remarks that have absolutely nothing to do with the argument. The type to bring up shit that happened 4 months ago just to help his case

Reki is usually the one to make him see sense, telling him just how petty he’s being, and that he cant get so defensive when he’s in the wrong. He knows this, obviously, he just can’t help it sometimes.

Although he’s not one for real apologies, he’ll slowly begin to stop ignoring you, bringing you small snacks or sending you funny things he saw on his phone. He’ll sit beside you, acting as if it was completely unintentional, but will slowly inch closer and closer until he’s curled up at your side, mumbling about how he wasn’t completely right after all

Will literally hit anyone who tries to comment on how the pair of you have made up, talking about how “its not even that big of a deal, just shut up”

Ad*m

Yall fought cause y’know. He’s ad*m

Sat outside your house with a speaker and an ugly ass sign. It started raining and his sign got ruined and his makeup ran

You broke up with him and he cried

Slipped in the rain while leaving <3

1K notes · View notes

2-cute-4-school · 3 years

Text

𝚗𝚌𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚖𝚜

requested by anonie: hi if you’re taking requests could you do an NCT Dream reaction to you crying while studying for exams because you’re stressed? thank you !

Mark Lee

my boi understands the STRESS

he debuted like 6 times and he has more comebacks and schedules than he can count bby is so overworked sometimes °(ಗдಗ。)

i think you’re probably each other’s safe places

whenever mark catches sight of you he just buries himself in your arms and all his stress and worries melt away as he breathes in your familiar scent (.づ◡﹏◡)づ.

your hugs? his best medicine

so when he finds you trying to muffle your cries in your hands, hunched over open textbooks, a mess of pens and littered papers around you

his heart breaks just a lil (*>_<*)

why didn’t you come to him?? or at least call him??? don’t you trust him?? is he part of the reason of your tears???? what if-

“mark?” ༶ඬ༝ඬ༶

but as your meek voice calls for him he decides that questions can wait

you are his one and only priority

he dashes to your side and engulfs you in his arms─=≡Σ(づ￣ ³￣)づ

“it’s okay baby, you’ll be fine, i’m here, i’m with you”

you just hide your face in his chest and allow yourself to break into sobs that wrench mark’s poor lil heart while mark caresses your back and head

“just let it all out baby, i’m right here, i’ll always be here”(๑´•д • `๑)

he keeps murmuring comforting words as you slowly run out of tears

once you calm down enough to explain the reason of your breakdown to him, he just presses a kiss to your forehead ლ(´﹏`ლ)

“how about you take a rest for tonight and we’ll talk tomorrow and i’ll find a way to help you through this, hm? does that sound good?”

you make him promise he’ll stay with you for this night he has no objections (ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡

he ends up playing his guitar for you with your head on his lap asfdsfksf until you fall asleep and then spoons you after tucking you in

his softness for you doesn’t prevent him from having a serious discussion with you to make sure you know you can always come to him for anything and then ends up helping you study might end up asking for help as well _(T-T*)

Huang Renjun

this boi seems really chill while at home

so i’d say that he mostly minds his business if you’re busy with school work like he’s probably in a corner painting or sumthin’ the lil artsy fairy that he is (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

he does check up on you from time to time to make sure that you’re... you know... alive and breathing?? lol fun times huh

but still, silent comfort IS your love language ∩(︶▽︶)∩

so he kinda assumes that you ALREADY know he’s there for you at any time anywhere in any way you may ever need him

so when he hears a muffled sob from behind the door you’re studying in?

his heart BREAKS ꒰๑˃͈꒳˂͈๑꒱ﾉ*ﾞ̥

but he also doesn’t want to stress you out even more or scare you so he slowly enters the room to find you hunched over your desk

he hesitates for a moment as his chest just clenches in hurt while he watches your shoulders shake with muffled whimpers ˓˓(ᑊᘩᑊ⁎)

so he walks up to you and lays a gentle hand on your shoulder

he waited for a moment to make sure that you’re comfortable with his presence in such vulnerable moments

and the he just ENGULFS you in a firm embrace and you FINALLY get the chance to ground yourself as you let out all of the pent up frustration in the arms of the person you trust the most (๑◕︵◕๑)

he just pats your head and you bury your face in his chest and you just ✨melt✨ into each other

i don’t think he’d say much tbh (´°ω°`)

there’s a silent mutual understanding that all you need right now is someone- him to lean on when you’re too tired to hold yourself upright

as you start calming down he presses a kiss to your head before speaking softly but firmly

“you’re taking a break, come on let’s eat and then we can have a lazy evening for once” ε-(‘ﾍ´○)┓

“but-”

“oh we can finally try out the fluffy blanket we bought together last week”

he AIN’T TAKING NO FOR ANSWER!!! (￣ω￣)

you spend the evening wrapped up in each other under your blanket with a forgotten movie playing in the background while renjun hums a lullaby’s tune in your ear

Lee Jeno

he has a sixth sense for you

you can’t get away WITH ANYTHING ¯\_༼ᴼل͜ᴼ༽_/¯

you stub a toe: aw frick-

jeno, thousands of km away in the middle of rolling his hips into another dimension during practice: something’s wrong ಠ_ಠ

so i think he might notice even before you that you’re kinda breaching your limit

but ba(r)bie isn’t sure how to approach you without offending you since you’re kinda irritable because of the stress ofc he doesn’t blame you

so if he fails to stop you before your breakdown he’s gonna blame himself for sure tho so make sure to reassure him once you’re stable he’s gonna keep a VERY watchful eye over you ( ◉ 〜 ◉ )

he’s 100% READY to be there for you!!!!!

he has fluffy blankets, your favourite sweets and snacks, your preferred take out place on speed dial in case you’re hungry AND your comfort show prepared (•̀o•́)ง

what he isn’t prepared tho?

his OWN heart cracking at the sight of your pain and exhaustion (ಗдಗ)

he LITERALLY CAN’T stop the small whine building up in his chest as he strides over to your side for support

so when you wrap yourself around him like a lil koala, trembling in his hold and muttering through tears that it’s just too much-

his ULTIMATE protectiveness kicks in FULL MODE (ಢ⊱ಢ ｡)

he just scoops you up and burrito wraps you into the gigantic mound of blankets already prepared for you while pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead i promised i’d make it his trademark so here ;)

he *dashes* to bring over all of the snacks AND is already on the phone if you decided you wanted something to eat

basically bf jeno didn’t come to play ║ * ರ Ĺ̯ ರ * ║

spends the rest of the night literally PAMPERING you in anything you need

and most importantly... LOTS OF KITHES AND CUDDLES!!!!( *¯ ³¯*)♡

his baby deserves a chill and lovely night and he’s gonna provide exactly that and the absolute best for you :<

also jeno will gather all of his remaining braincells to help you the next of the day he really seems a smart kid in my opinion

Lee Donghyuck

hyuck is a LOVELY person don’t get me wrong (๑♡⌓♡๑)

but he’s also a tease so he might unintentionally push you to your limits with a few remarks

poor babe really didn’t realize you were going through it

so just imagine his panic once you just burst into tears after what should have been a harmless teasing from him (╬⁽⁽ ⁰ ⁾⁾ Д ⁽⁽ ⁰ ⁾⁾)

“ba-babe? what happened, did i go too far?? i’m so sorry my love, i just-”

he keeps on rambling and you just cry even harder cuz come on hyuck is just such a thoughtful boyfriend

“i’m really sorry y/n, please don’t cry, i’ll do ANYTHING-” ٩(´Д` ;)۶

you try to explain to him that he’s not at fault for your breakdown

obviously it’s not really comprehensible but it’s enough for hyuck to understand once he hears the words ‘stress’ and ‘exhausted’

he simply embraces you as tight as he can and reassures you that humans have their own limits (っ⇀⑃↼)っ

and that taking a break doesn’t invalidate your hard work and dedication

he understands how overworking can affect a person so he knows how to handle the situation

he proposes taking a hot bath once you’ve calmed down and he adds extra bubbles and a really nice smelling body wash (╯✧∇✧)╯

and after that- YOU’RE ON BED REST!! no excuses

if you protest? you wouldn’t dare

stops you with kisses all over your face before fully shutting you up with a soft but firm kiss on your lips o┤*｀3´*├o

you spend the entire rest of the day restrained in his hugs

you really scared him so he became a lil lot clingy

need to go to the bathroom? he INSISTS to piggyback you there since ‘you need all the rest you can possibly get’ (∪｡∪)｡｡｡

but i reckon you can’t complain since you have the chance to spend some quality time with your also busy boyfriend

my boy will also go to the ends of the world in order to help you the next day to study whether that means burning his own brain or gathering half of nct and his manager to get everything done in time (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و

Na Jaemin

it’s literally NO SURPRISE when i say that he’s PROTECTIVEx1000000 of his loved ones (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

so why would you even bother to hide anything from him??

it’s LITERALLY no use

he’s a very very doting person and he keeps tabs on you no matter what, sometimes even uncounciously

and if he’s not there physically? NO PROBLEM!!

texts and calls between he two of you are a very common occurence bubs just wants to make sure you’re well and happy (˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

so unless you’re a top class at acting, good luck in trying to play off your stress and tiredness

but let’s say that due to busy schedules and different timetables it somehow gets past him

babe will be so heartbroken (๑´•д • `๑)

his worry topples over as he freezes in your doorway for a moment at the sight of your defeated form and tear-stained papers

BUT he does a good job in keeping his composure because he can’t risk letting his emotions get the best of him when you need him ( •̀ω•́ )

so he just trudges up to you and SMOTHERS you in the tightest hug possible, tucking your head in his shoulder so you could cry freely hidden away from the rest of the world

he coos a few words here and there, encouragements, compliments, reassurement that ‘you’re more than enough, you just need to take a moment to relax and breathe’ ✧˖°ˈ·*ε-(๑˃́ε˂̀๑ )

otherwise, he’ll leave the talk for the next day when you’re rested both physically AND mentally

after you calm down he helps you put away all your school work you wouldn’t dare oppose him on this for the rest of the day

we all know what’s coming up i’m sorry

COMFORT FOOD!!!! (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

he seats you on a kitchen stool while he cooks whatever you need at the moment, anything his baby wants

honestly he just adapts to whatever you need atm

cuddles in silence? works for him!! wanna ramble? there to listen!! want netflix and chill??? absolutely!!!!

Zhong Chenle

sooo from what i’ve gathered he’s not exactly emotional???

but also have you seen this absolute cutie when jisung was crying at the dream show?? babe was trying so hard to comfort his bff but he also seemed uh.. a bit awkward a bit? in a cute way tho!! (๑⁍᷄౪⁍᷅๑)

but i do think he’ll falter once he catches sight of your state!!!!

so many mental debates too!! (๑′°︿°๑)

‘they’re hunched over, did they fall asleep? wait shaking?? is it cold in here????... fuck no was that a sob?? do i... do i go over to comfort them? but how like do i hug or do i talk or..? what if they break up with me??? shit what have i done recently?? i washed the dishes, i cleaned the dog poop, i took out the trash.. it can’t be this’

my boy is going through THE CRISIS OF HIS LIFE (≖ლ≖๑ )

so he reluctantly walks up to you determined to help

but when he reaches you? *brain fart*

ends up patting your head and rubbing your back, but his touch manages to ground you without overwhelming you even further (っ⇀⑃↼)っ

if you end up pulling him into a hug tho, he won’t hesitate to hold you

while comforting you he finally notices your open notebooks filled with messy writing

he feels weirdly relieved that you’re not breaking up with him and neither is it something *tragic* •(◐﹏◐)•

he’ll let you cry it out before he asks if you’d like some help with your school work he asked fans to send their maths homework so he must be a nerd enough to be able to help you too

but you’re probably too drained（×ω×） to do anything so you two just settle for a cuddle session under a mountain of blankets

and daegal therapy!!!!!Ｏ(≧∇≦)Ｏ who probably loves you more than chenle and he ends up whining jokingly about it

chenle will probably focus on lifting up your mood with jokes and stories and he’d do anything to cheer you up

he might try to spoil you too

and he’s not letting you refuse the ton of food he orders since ‘you deserve to fill up your batteries’ ~~旦_(-ω-｀｡)

i’m sorry for your tummies after the ammount of sweets you shared

Park Jisung

ah nct’s certified crybaby(lovingly)

might just start crying with you because if you cry he cries too

i honestly see him a bit panicky in a delicate situation like this once where he has to deal with *emotions* (｡´>д<)っ彡☆

so he watches from a safe distance at first

literally jisung.exe has shut down

but then poor kid starts feeling guilty about just watching you suffer without helping and comforting you but he’s kinda scared that he’s only gonna make it worse (●’Д’●)

‘come on park jisung think!!! what would-... what WOULD JAEMIN DO!!’

*cue lighbulb going off above his head*

cue calling jaemin and getting scolded for being on the phone with him instead of being by your side but still giving his precious baby advice

jisung probably comes up with a speech before approaching you he’s nervous okay? ┌༼ σ ‸ σ ༽┐

he lays a hand on your head, gently caressing you and just as he takes a breath to start his speech, you just look up to him with THE kicked puppy eyes ༼ つ ◕ ‸ ◕ ༽つ and jisung is A GONER꒰ლ✘ㅿ✘ლ꒱

he MELTS into a puddle of uwus and just leans into you, opting for silent comfort and that’s how he found out that cuddles>>>>>>words

he kinda babbles a little while holding you words are hard ya know

he kinda rambles after you calm down too so now you have to calm him down you’re both messes but you’re cute so

so what is the most efficient way to shut him up? peck his lips!!!!

and as he melts into your hold he remembers that ‘wait!! i’m the one supposed to comfort them!!!!’ (•̀o•́)ง

so he throws his nerves out the window for a moment and just cups his entire world your face in his hands and pecks your all over your face

you end up watching some compilations with kitties or something on both your phones untill your batteries die so then you switch to another device gen z behaviour

he also probably gets a call from jaemin too and you figure out that your puss of a boyfriend had to call his friend in order to help you

so you give him that look <(｀^´)>

let’s say he’s taking you out for brunch the next day AND helping you with your school work

703 notes · View notes

onecanonlife · 3 years

Text

Wilbur wakes up one morning to find white in his hair. This is—irritating, for several reasons, but that's all it is. An annoyance. A distraction.

There's nothing deeper at work here. There's nothing wrong at all.

(Or, the stresses of the presidency give Wilbur a white streak of hair earlier in canon, and somehow, this serves as the cry for help he can never bring himself to make.)

(word count: 6,040)

(first part) (second part) (fourth part)

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

Part Three

She knocks twice before opening the door, and he barely has time to look up before she’s there. Slightly hesitant, perhaps, but the look on her face is one of resolve as she steps into the room, and nudges the door closed behind her.

It takes a second to find his voice. He can’t remember if she’s ever visited him here. Surely she has, at one point or another. Anyone is free to come find him whenever they choose. He makes himself available, or at least, as available as he can be. The door is never locked, and he is always here.

“Niki?” he asks. “Is something wrong?” He puts down his pen. He hadn’t actually been using it, had instead been twirling it between his fingers and staring off into space. He finds himself doing that incredibly often, and sometimes, he catches himself wondering if it’s worth getting out of bed at all, if that’s all he’s going to do with his time.

She smiles at him, then, but like so many of the smiles she’s directed towards him lately, it seems strained, thin, and it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Not for me,” she says. “But I would like to talk to you for a little while, if that would be okay?”

She’s already reaching for a chair, one of the ones he keeps in here, set up so that he can carry out meetings across this desk. None of them are very comfortable, but before he can offer to find her a better one—there has to be one somewhere in this building—she is sitting, perching on the edge, crossing one leg over the other and resting her forearms on her thigh.

Anxiety is already rising. He doesn’t know why she’d come here, doesn’t know what she’d want to talk about, if nothing is wrong on her end of things. Not with that look on her face. Except, there was the whole thing yesterday, and he was very rude to all of them, so perhaps that’s the subject matter. He gave an apology, but it was rushed, and then he all but ran away. He wouldn’t blame her if she had a piece to say on that, little though he wants to discuss it.

So perhaps he should go ahead and get in on it.

“About yesterday—” he starts, but she’s saying the exact same thing, almost in unison, so he cuts off. But she does too, and for a second, they just stare at each other, neither sure how to proceed.

“Go on,” Niki says, after a moment, and he nods, somewhat tentative.

“Right. I just wanted to say, about yesterday, I really am sorry about that. I didn’t mean to lose my temper there. I was just feeling a bit stressed, ended up snapping. But I’m sorry. It wasn’t anything you did.”

Niki draws in a breath. He can see her steeling herself, visibly, and his trepidation grows; what could she possibly have to say to him that would take so much mental preparation?

“I accept your apology,” she says, “but, actually Wilbur, I wanted to apologize to you.”

He blinks. “What?”

“I pushed you yesterday, even when it was pretty obvious you weren’t feeling comfortable talking about it,” she says. “I think—I think we do need to talk about some things, and that’s why I’m here, but I shouldn’t have confronted you like I did. Especially in front of others, since it was a conversation that we had with just each other. So I’m very sorry about that.”

He isn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. Some part of him feels a bit mollified, because it is true that he felt uncomfortable with the direction the conversation took. But at the same time, that doesn’t really excuse how he reacted to it. He could have handled it better. Should have handled it better, in fact.

“Oh,” he says, and scrambles for something else. Talking is his thing, is what he’s good at. He can’t just be saying oh to people. He needs a response. Needs to be well-spoken, eloquent, because that’s what is expected of him, and he has to fulfill expectations. “Well, that’s alright, then. You really don’t have anything you need to apologize for.”

She frowns. Why did that make her frown? What did he say?

“Okay,” she says, and that doesn’t help him figure it out at all. “Would you mind if we talked about something, though?”

He doesn’t know what else she would want to talk about. At least, not like this. Not coming to his office, expression serious, body language tense. Not saying this, that nothing is wrong with her—because if she doesn’t have a problem of some kind, he doesn’t know why she would be acting this way. Unless there’s another problem with him. Or she thinks there’s another problem with him. But—no, he’s been doing well, lately. Yesterday’s outburst aside, he’s made all of his recent meetings, he’s finished all the paperwork that urgently needed to be done, and he’s been meticulous about his appearance.

Mostly. His coat still hasn’t made it into the wash. But he’s done everything that he’s had the time and energy for, and he thought that it was all holding up.

“Of course,” he says. “What is it?”

She draws in another breath. That’s the second time, now, that she’s steadied herself in so obvious a fashion.

“I’m going to ask you something, and I’d really, really like it if you’d answer me truthfully,” she says, and he can feel his pulse quickening already. “Wil, are you alright?”

She puts a strange sort of emphasis on the final word. He’s not sure why. For a second, he’s lost, adrift, has no idea at all how to answer, because—because of course he’s alright. He’s fine. Just fine. He’s keeping his head above water, steering clear of the circling sharks, and that’s what’s most important. So why do the words linger in his mouth before he can force them out? Why does it take so much effort?

No. He needs to pull himself together.

“Yes,” he says. “Niki, I’m perfectly well.”

Her face crumples. He jolts, hand jerking forward, his instinct to comfort her, but his desk is in the way.

“Wil,” she says, voice soft. “You’re not sleeping.”

The way she says it, so frankly, so matter-of-fact, as if she knows, takes him aback.

“I—” he starts, but she’s already gone on.

“Your eyes are always bloodshot, and I know I joked about the bags under them, but—they’re really bad. Really dark. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but sometimes, when you walk, you kind of—sway, a little bit. Like you’re too tired to stay upright properly.”

He hasn’t noticed. He hasn’t—that can’t possibly be right, can it? Because it’s true, he’s not getting as much sleep as he would like, but it can’t be that bad. It’s not as if he never sleeps at all. So it can’t be that bad. Can’t be that noticeable. Niki has to be looking too hard, jumping at shadows that aren’t there, because the alternative is worse. Is unthinkable.

Because if what she’s saying is true, who else has seen?

“I sleep,” he refutes, but it sounds weak to his own ears. Meek. And Niki shakes her head.

“Not enough,” she says. “And—” She cuts off. And then, she reaches out for him. He watches as she closes her fingers around his wrist, feeling almost outside of himself. His head is buzzing. “Wil, you’re too skinny. I’m really worried that you’re not eating enough.”

He eats. He does. Maybe not a lot, since food has become increasingly hard to choke down—this morning, for instance, he tried, and almost threw it all back up on the spot. But he does eat. And it’s not like he wouldn’t, if he could. He just sort of—can’t. Not much, at any rate. But it’s not as though he doesn’t eat at all.

“I think you might be reading too much into things, there,” he says, and tries a smile. “I eat, I promise. How could I not, with you around?”

“You’ve been by twice in as many weeks,” Niki states. “And both times, you left in a hurry, before I could give you much of anything at all, because the conversation turned to something you didn’t want to talk about. No, you can’t tell me I’m wrong,” she adds, raising a finger at him. He leans back, away from it. “I’m not wrong. That’s why you left. Both times. And I—I really am sorry, Wil, if this isn’t something you want to talk about. If you don’t feel comfortable with it. I don’t want to hurt you, or pressure you, or anything like that. But I’m scared you’re hurting yourself.”

She’s—what.

Now that—that truly is a ludicrous idea. That is—

No. He wouldn’t do something like that. He wouldn’t—by itself, the risk of someone noticing is more than enough to dissuade him, though—he is self-aware enough to realize that if that’s his first reason for—abstaining, then that might not be a good sign. Of. Things. He’ll think about it later.

Or not. Or maybe never. This seems like a good thing to not think about, actually.

“Not in the way you’re thinking of,” Niki says, and he’s left it too long again. Too long without a reply. He keeps doing that, keeps getting lost in his own head. He needs to stay more present, needs to keep his head in the game. It’s just hard, when everything feels so far away, when he’s constantly thinking through a thick fog. “Not unless—not unless you are, but—”

She sounds like she might actually cry, at that, and that is enough to force him to focus.

“I’m not,” he says, and to his relief, his voice comes out firm, steady. “I swear to you, I’m not.”

“Okay,” she says. “That’s good. I’m—I’m really glad. But—you’re overworking yourself. You’re not sleeping or eating enough, and you’re always in here, and that’s—none of it’s good for you. None of it is healthy. And then, your hair—”

Annoyance bubbles up. Just a bit.

“Do we have to be on about that again?” he asks. “We’ve been through this. It’s not a big deal.”

“I know you don’t think it is,” she says. “But I’ve heard about things like this, Wil. It’s not that—it’s not that it looks bad, or anything like that. It’s just that hair doesn’t do that without a reason. Not when you’re twenty-four years old. That’s why I keep bringing it up. You’re stressed, even if you try to deny it.”

“And what if I am?” he asks. “It’s a stressful job. I’m running a nation here. But that doesn’t mean I can’t handle it. It certainly doesn’t mean I’m not capable of doing my job.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” Niki says. “Who—I know you’re capable. I never said that you weren’t.”

He may have overplayed his hand a bit, with that one. There’s a bit of confusion in her tone now, where there wasn’t before, stacked on top of an increasing amount of worry. He’s not doing very good work of assuaging her concerns. But even still, this conversation is bothering him, now. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep a straight face, and he brings his hands together, folding them on top of his desk. Her hand falls away from his wrist, and—it’s because he’s so tired, that he has to catch himself before he grabs it, moves it back to where it was. He’s not that needy.

“Then I’m not quite sure that I understand the point of this,” he says, and tries his best not to bite out the words. Just because his temper is on a short fuse doesn’t mean that he can take it out on Niki. She’s just trying to help him. “I am stressed, it’s true. But it’s not as if there’s anything to be done about that. And as I’ve been saying, it’s nothing that I can’t handle.”

“The point is that you’re working yourself into the ground!” Niki says, her eyes flashing. “It doesn’t matter if you can handle it, it’s about whether you should!”

“And why shouldn’t I?” he snaps. “Aren’t I the president? Isn’t this my job?”

“Not if it costs you this much!” she snaps back.

And—she doesn’t mean it like that. He’s almost certain that she doesn’t mean it like that, doesn’t mean it like it came out, doesn’t mean she thinks he shouldn’t be president. The thing is, he would accept it, if that were the case. If his people banded together and decided that someone else would do a better job than him. If they thought he was no longer deserving of the position. He would accept it. He would step down, retire to private citizenship. He just doesn’t know what he would do afterward. Doesn’t know what he would do with himself, if the country he founded decided he was no longer good enough for them.

But of course, he has never been good enough. Not really. He’s hanging onto his pretense by bloody fingertips.

Has Niki realized it?

“It’s not worth it if this is what it does to you,” Niki continues, voice softer. “Nothing is. Nothing matters if you’re not taking care of yourself.”

He doesn’t—that’s not right. It can’t be right, because the country is more important. L’Manberg is more important, has been since the day they declared their independence, staked everything on a van and a dream. He started it, and so it is up to him to continue it, because the prosperity of his people must come first. His nation must come first.

What is he, in the face of that?

For a second, Niki goes blurry. He blinks, hard, and she comes back into focus, but his eyes are prickling. Stinging. His chest has gone tight, his breaths coming shorter, and he doesn’t want this. This can’t be happening now. He needs to—to shove it all away, down in a box, never to see the light of day. Only to be opened when he’s alone, in his quarters, safely ensconced where there is no one else to watch him break down. No one else to watch his shame.

He’s not doing this in front of Niki.

And yet, the sensation doesn’t subside, so he stands abruptly, surprising her, he thinks, and he walks to the window, shoving the curtains away and staring out over what he can see of the country from here. It’s not much; the window is not very big, but he can see the walls, the black and yellow ramparts. Standing tall, standing strong. This is why he does this, why he works so hard, why he refuses to show vulnerability. This is why. This is what he is protecting, what he must continue to protect, for as long as he is allowed.

His eyes sting again, the world wavering. There is a sob trapped behind his ribcage, clawing at him, trying to tear him open. He breathes, deeply, and doesn’t let it. Now is not the time, and here is not the place, and he will not lose his composure. He will not. Not over—and what is he reacting to in the first place? Niki’s words? He has no real reason for the tears welling up. He’s just weak. Emotionally. That’s what this is. And that’s why he can’t let it show.

Another deep breath. He pretends it doesn’t shake.

“Wil?” Niki asks. Behind him, now, and he doesn’t turn to look back at her.

“L’Manberg is worth everything,” he says. “You do understand that, right?” His voice doesn’t waver.

“I love L’Manberg,” Niki says. “We all love L’Manberg. But we don’t love it more than we love you.”

He winces, and he’s glad he’s turned away from her, glad she didn’t see.

Perhaps she believes that’s the truth. But it can’t possibly be. He could understand them loving him in connection to loving L’Manberg, this city, this nation, this wonderful place that they’ve built together, that he’s poured his sweat and blood and tears into. He and L’Manberg are irrevocably intertwined, and he could understand loving him, simply by virtue of loving the other. But separately? He hasn’t done anything. L’Manberg is his crowning achievement; besides that, what does he have to offer people? What reason? What virtue?

In a way, he is L’Manberg, and he cannot remove himself from it, no more than a bird can remove its own wings.

“Wil?” Niki says. Her voice has gone sharp. “You do know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” he says, he lies, and—his voice breaks. Just a little bit. It would probably be unnoticeable, if the circumstances were any different. If Niki weren’t already paying so much attention to him, scrutinizing him, spotlight turned up to its maximum brightness. Like he’s on stage, and she’s in the audience, and he’s fumbled the line and she’s only noticed because she knows how the play is supposed to go.

Metaphors. Spiraling away from him. Just like this conversation.

“Wil,” Niki says again, more insistent. And closer. She’s stood up, stepped toward him. He still doesn’t turn, because the prickling has only gotten worse, and he’s scared to blink, lest that send the tears spilling over. If she looks at his face, she’ll see them. There’s no avoiding that. “Wil, please. Don’t lie to me.”

Ah. She knows.

He’s not sure why that’s the thing that breaks him. Why that’s the thing that pushes it all over into being too much.

The sob escapes.

Only partially; he tamps down on it on instinct, and his fist flies up to his mouth. Habit, that, to muffle his sounds. But that almost makes it worse, because the sob comes out sounding not quite like a sob, but instead more of a strangled whimper, bit off and weak, like the dying call of some small, hapless animal.

He doesn’t let another one out. He presses his fist against his lips, though he doesn’t part them, doesn’t bite down. But the damage has already been done, and then, Niki is there, right by his side, and he doesn’t dare to look directly at her, but he can imagine what expression she’s making. Some variation on the same one she’s had this whole time. Concern, deep and abiding and wholly undeserved, wholly unneeded.

“Hey,” she says. “Please talk to me. What is it? What can I do?”

His throat is too thick, too clogged. He has no hope of evening out his voice.

“You could go,” he manages, hoarse. Blunt, and he hopes she doesn’t mistake it as anger. He’s not angry. Not at her, at least. “I might need a moment?”

He didn’t mean for that to be a question. But Niki just steps closer, shaking her head.

“I’ll do anything other than that,” she says. “I’m not leaving you alone right now. Not if—oh, Wil.”

She has a good angle, now, to see his face fully. So the jig is up, and he knows there’s no hope of getting her to leave now. That’s how Niki is. Too kind. Too caring. And sure enough, she reaches out toward him in the next moment, and his usual reaction would be to flinch away, but instead, he just watches through obscured vision as her hand nears his face, and cups his cheek, tilting his head toward her.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers. Part of him wants to jerk away from the contact, and part of him wants to stay there forever. Or for a good, long time, at least. Just because it really is nice to be touched in a way that is not meant to harm him.

“It’s nothing,” he says. “It’s nothing.” But he can’t keep his eyes open any longer, so he blinks, and there go the first tears. Dripping down, out in the open, no disguising them. There are more sobs building up, but these, he forces down, keeps in his chest, out of his throat. Even if it makes his breathing unsteady, makes his chest jump and hitch every few seconds, it’s better than the alternative.

“It’s not nothing,” she says. “If it’s hurting you, then it’s not nothing. Please believe me.”

He can’t. He can’t do that. Not even for her sake.

“Is it what I said?” she asks. “I swear, I’m not angry with you. I just want to help.”

He shudders, and turns his face away from her. Her hand falls from him.

“Is it—is it that?” she asks, and oh, how he wishes she wouldn’t. “Why does that upset you?”

He—he can’t. He can’t answer that. He can’t talk about this. He can’t.

“If you would—if you would rather I go get someone else, I could do that,” Niki says, slowly, and he can tell that it pains her. He might be hurting her feelings, with this. He wishes he could explain that it’s not her in particular that he can’t trust with this. It’s everyone.

For a moment, he entertains taking her up on the offer, if only because she would have to leave to retrieve someone, which would give him time to escape his office and go—where? Where would he go? To his room, to scream into his pillow once again? A bit late for that. And the idea is foolish anyhow; she doesn’t need to leave at all, can just talk to someone on her communicator and stay with him until they arrive, and no, absolutely not. He doesn’t want that. As bad as this is, as shit as he feels right now, he doesn’t want anyone else to see. It’s bad enough that it’s Niki but—what if it were Tubbo, or Tommy? One of the people who looks up to him as an example and not just a friend or brother?

No. Bad enough that it’s Niki, but better her than someone else, and he’s done it again, has taken too long to respond because his brain refuses to think any faster than a slow, plodding pace, a trot rather than a gallop, and—

“Please don’t,” he says, and it comes out both whisper and plea. And then, because he has to try again, because he won’t be satisfied unless he does, he says, “Really, I just need—a moment. It happens sometimes, it’s fine, but if we could maybe pick this up later—”

“I’m not leaving you while you’re crying,” Niki says. “Please get that through your head.”

“But you should,” he says. He fights to get the words out past the lump in his throats, past the pressure that continues to build up. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this. And I’m fine, because I can, I’m used to it. So if you’ll just give me a minute, I can—I can compose myself, and we can keep on.” He bites out each word, wary of letting something loose that he doesn’t want to, but that has the downside of airing his frustration again. He’s not trying to snap at her, he really isn’t, but better that than to dissolve into full-on crying. A few tears are manageable. He can get this back under control.

“Wilbur,” Niki says, “why on earth do you think you’re something that I have to deal with?”

He looks at her again, something in her tone compelling him. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright.

And this is not going to be the right answer, not going to be what she’s looking for, but he’s so worn out that he just—

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks.

“Oh,” Niki says. “Oh. No, Wil, no, that’s not right. You’re not—is this why you haven’t told anyone? Because you’re—oh, Prime, Wil. You’re not something I have to ‘deal’ with. You’re my friend, and I care about you, and I want you to be okay.” And before he can even begin to think of how to respond to that, she steps forward, and then her arms are around him, and she’s hugging him.

That’s when his knees decide to buckle.

“Oh, shit,” Niki says, but she guides them both down to the floor, so that they’re kneeling, kneeling and she’s still hugging him, still has her hands splayed on his back. “Okay, you’re okay. Are you with me, Wil?”

He intends to say yes. What comes out instead is a small, “Mhm.” Not even a word. And he’d be angry with himself, except all of a sudden, his chest is heaving, and the tears are coming quicker, and scrunching up his eyes doesn’t help, and it sort of hurts, now, to hold back the sobs that want to wrench out of him, hurts in his ribs. And he’s shaking, and despite all of that, he’s starting to feel cloudy again, distant from himself, and with that realization comes another: at this point, he’s lost control. His body has decided to shut down on him, and he doesn’t really have a say in the matter.

The sobs start coming out. Loud, broken things, like shards of glass twisted and half-melted until there’s no putting the pieces back together the same.

His mind feels detached. Impartial. Numb. So he no longer bothers to try and stop it. Just floats, a bystander within himself, as he has a complete break down on the floor of his office, with Niki holding him.

He’s not sure how long it takes for the tears to stop. He’s not counting. Not taking notice of much of anything, really. His body wears itself out, and he’s left there, slumped against her, like an empty shell.

She’s been talking to him this whole time, a stream of platitudes, comfort words, tumbling after one another, but now, she stops. For a moment, there is silence. He can hear himself breathing, rough and ragged.

“Hey,” Niki says. “Are you still here?”

He’s not sure how to answer that. He doesn’t feel very present, and frankly, he likes it that way, right this second. If he were feeling any more present, he’d be dealing with far more than he thinks he’s equipped for. But he is here physically, and he has enough presence of mind to respond to her, at least, even if it all feels so very far away, and he is so very tired.

He has been this tired all along, he thinks. This was a breaking point. Does it make him feel any better, that this was probably inevitable?

“Yeah,” he murmurs. His head is resting on her shoulder. He keeps it that way. It’s easier if he doesn’t have to look her in the eyes.

“That’s good,” she says. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Are you actually asking,” he mumbles, “or are you going to make me anyway?”

She sighs. That was the wrong thing to say. It’s harder for him to care.

“I don’t want to make you do anything,” she says. “That’s not why I’m here. If you really, really don’t want to talk about it, then—we don’t have to. But I think you need to. I think you’re hurting, and you’ve kept it to yourself, and I think that’s not a good thing.”

“‘S better than the alternative.”

“Okay,” she says. “What’s the alternative?”

Is he really going to do this? Is he going to tell her? Every instinct he has cries out against it, but the thing about that is that his instincts are rather dull at the moment. Easier to push aside. And his logical reasoning informs him that he’s already cried all over her, so really, he owes her an explanation at this point. Doing so might make everything worse, but if that’s the case, it’s no more than he deserves, for being unable to keep it together.

“Niki,” he says, “I’m a bad president.”

His voice is muffled by the fabric of her shirtsleeve. But he knows she understands him, because she stiffens.

“What makes you say that?” she asks.

“‘M not any good,” he tells her. “I’ve got all this work to do and I can barely do any of it. I don’t know what I’m doing at all. I’ve only been pretending this whole time, to know what I’m doing. I’m a shit leader.”

“You’re not,” Niki says, “but if you really think that, why didn’t you ask for help?”

He shakes his head, still holding his face on her shoulder. He doesn’t want to see her expression. “Can’t,” he says. “‘M supposed to be able to do it. I didn’t want you to know I’m a failure.”

Niki doesn’t respond. For a full three seconds, and he wonders if this is the part where she leaves. Finally. And then, she stops hugging him, and the part of him that is still awake enough to form coherent sentences thinks, yes, this is it, this is what you have sowed. Except then, she doesn’t leave at all, makes no move to get up, and instead grips him by the arms, and moves him backwards, so that she can stare him right in the face.

“Wilbur Soot,” she says, and she sounds more upset than he has ever heard her. “You are not a failure.”

“I am,” he says. Why is he trying so hard to get her to believe it? Maybe he just feels like he’s committed, now, to pulling the rug out. “I am.”

“You’re not,” she insists. “You made this nation. You took a drug van and turned it into a country where everyone is happy and free. Everyone looks up to you. We all love you.”

And there it is. The problem, in a nutshell.

“And what happens when you stop?” he murmurs.

Niki is completely silent, completely still. Staring at him.

“What happens when it turns out I’ve never been good enough?” he continues, voice weak. “What happens when the man you look up to lets you down? What happens when you know that all I am, in the end, is a pathetic shell who can barely get himself out of bed in the morning, much less make any of the moves that would lead to actual prosperity? What happens when you all learn that your president is shit at his job?” His voice strengthens as he goes on, rises to a more normal tone, fueled by his own disgust.

In a way, it’s freeing, finally saying all of this aloud. Whatever the consequences may be.

“What exactly,” Niki says, “have we done to make you think there’s anything you could do that would make us stop caring about you?”

She actually does sound a little bit angry, now. Her eyebrows are furrowed, her nostrils flared. He opens his mouth to respond, because the answer to that should be fairly obvious at this point, but she continues before he can.

“Do you really think we only love you because of—because you’re president? Or because you’ve made a country? We love this country because you made it, not the other way around. Why would you—Wil. Have you been thinking like this the whole time?”

Suddenly, he finds himself unable to respond. Paralyzed. Stricken dumb. Blinking, working his jaw. She shakes her head, tossing her hair, and—are those tears glittering in her eyes? Surely not.

It’s another second before she keeps talking. She was waiting on a response from him, he believes, but it’s one that he is incapable of giving.

“Oh,” she says. “You really do believe that.”

And the way she says it—he wants to cry again, for putting that pain in her voice. That expression on her face. Her hands are still on his shoulders, have not yet been pulled back, but suddenly, his skin is crawling, the contact too much.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he’s not sure exactly what he’s apologizing for. For his numerous inadequacies, maybe. For the fact that he’s not strong enough for this, and never has been. For the way he started this country and so foolishly believed that he would be able to lead it well, that he wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the paperwork and struck with the desire to lie in bed all day and do absolutely nothing, a desire that’s harder and harder to fight. For the manner in which his body has betrayed him, time and time again, for his hair turning white and his inability to prevent his outbursts and the way that it shut down on him just now, let everything out in the most unbecoming method possible. For the fact that he was weak enough to let it all show, too weak to press on and get through it.

For hurting her, certainly. He never wanted to do that.

But then, to his surprise, she yanks him forward, swift and insistent, into another hug. His mind shouts in alarm, but his body, once again, has a different idea, and he finds himself slumping into her hold again.

“You are worth more than L’Manberg,” she says. “If this place went up in flames tomorrow, I’d be most concerned with making sure you were alive.”

No. No, she can’t just say that, can’t say it and mean it, because if she does—

“Stop,” he rasps.

“No,” she says. “We don’t love you because you made this nation, or because you’re the president. We love you because you’re our friend, and you’re our friend because you’re good and kind and clever and funny, and you’re you. Not because you’re good at making speeches or signing papers or building walls. You’re just you. I promise that’s enough, Wilbur.”

He shudders again. Full-bodied.

“I don’t believe you,” he admits. What’s one more mark against him, at this point? “I can’t.”

“Then let us help you so that you can,” she says. “Don’t shut us out.”

That’s another thing that he can’t answer. His mind is spinning. He doesn’t know what to believe. He wishes this whole thing hadn’t happened in the first place, wishes she hadn’t stepped in here at all. And yet, some part of him feels safe. Safer than he’s felt in a good long while. He’s not so stupid as to think that it’s not because she’s holding him.

“How about we start with this?” she says. Her voice has softened. “How about you take a nap, and then, when you wake up, we get you some food. Something nice and simple, like soup.”

That—is easier to comprehend. Physical needs. Needs that he’s not intentionally neglecting, but that he can’t seem to make himself take care of. He can—he can do that, especially if it makes Niki feel better, and he is tired. Exhausted. His eyes are drooping shut already, though he shouldn’t fall asleep on Niki. He should go—back to his room. To his bed. That’s where he should sleep. Except he’s almost never able to get good sleep, there, and he still feels safe. Right here, right now. Safe, and he can’t remember the last time that happened. Can’t hope to anticipate the next time it will.

“Alright,” he mumbles. Niki isn’t pushing him off yet. Maybe she’ll wait until he’s out.

There’s still a portion of himself screaming not to do this. Screaming that he just keeps digging himself a bigger hole. That with everything he continues to reveal, with every weakness he puts on display, he’s only going to make the inevitable fallout worse. Because there will be fallout, no matter what Niki says. Perhaps she is telling the truth. Perhaps. But she doesn’t speak for everyone else, and he doesn’t want—

But he’s so tired, in the end.

“Don’t let anyone else in?” he says. He’s unsure if the words come out understandable. He’s slipping. He’s letting himself.

“Just sleep, Wil,” she answers, and that’s the last thing he hears.

127 notes · View notes

dinosaurtsukki · 3 years

Text

being the MSBY Jackals’ physiotherapist

anon: HEY BOO! LISTEN BEING THE BLACK JACKELS PHYSIOTHERAPIST! I can imagine a lot of damage I- bye 😽 I could I please have that as a headcanon 👉👈 thanks! ❤️ (that is a If requests are open..)

they are most definitely open and OH MY GOD THIS IS SUCH AN AMAZING IDEA WHEN I GOT THIS I COULDN’T WAIT TO START. i’ve been watching a lot of vids on what physical therapists do too and i hope you like this it was so fun to write !!

Bokuto Koutarou:

he deadass got you mixed up with the sports psychologist

when he walked into your clinic he was all ‘ah, hey there’ before lying faceup on the cot and just talking about his problems

and at first you were alright cause good to make conversation and everything until you realized.... “this guy thinks i’m the therapist”

bokuto: people always assume that i’m really naive and i kinda am but--

you: bokuto,,,, i’m not the therapist

bokuto: oh 👁👄👁

you: does it, um, hurt anywhere?

bokuto: *points to his heart*

after directing him to therapist’’s office, you finally clear up his misconceptions on what you’re supposed to be

you did hear about bokuto but what you didn’t expect was that he was An Actual Ray of Sunshine

whenever he comes to your office for his weekly check-ups, he always brings some sort of present

he likes to bring a package of cookies and the two of you eat them while you have your session

bokuto still uses the term ‘ouchie’ and it’s adorable

he takes really good of himself and his body so he isn’t prone to serious injuries. as soon as he knows something feels off, he’ll stop himself from working and come to your clinic

except,,, he comes way too often

bokuto: I WAS FLEXING MY FINGER AND THEN IT SUDDENLY MADE A CRACK SOUND WILL IT FALL OFF???

you: you’ve... never popped your fingers before?

bokuto: you can POP your FINGERS???

in interviews, bokuto loves to mention all the people who helped him on his journey and ngl it’s a REALLY LONG LIST but he always, always mentions you as ‘the best physical therapist ever!!’

and it makes you so soft you love your job so much

he actually ends up recommending you to his friend, akaashi keiji, because bokuto knows his shoulders and back hurt

akaashi comes into your office and just goes: “can you crack my back and shake me like a glowstick?”

you: i think you’re looking for a chiropractor

akaashi: ...

you: okay, lie down. i’ll see what i can do

Hinata Shouyo:

he got LOST TRYING TO FIND YOUR CLINIC

like, you were checking your watch wondering where your client was before he burst into your clinic thirty minutes late

also for some reason he was really nervous to see you poor baby he had the misconception that you were there to find what was wrong with him and then after he wouldn’t be able to play again

so he was genuinely surprised after you just made him do a few stretches for him, recommended some ways to move his body to utilize it better, and just sent him off

hinata: just... just like that?

you: yeah, pretty much. unless you feel that something else is wrong

after that he’s not so afraid to visit your clinic. in fact, he enjoys it quite a lot!

hinata really takes note of the advice you gave him (he brings a notepad and everything) and he likes to call you up to let you know that they worked

he actually calls you A LOT, like you’re probably the person he texts and calls the most other than natsu

at one point he was calling you every single day asking about what to eat until you decided to make a whole-ass weekly meal plan for him to just cycle through

he’s actually quite flexible (not as much as sakusa though) and he’s so proud of being able to reach farther than his toes

when you’re not looking though he measures himself against the height chart on your wall and you think it’s absolutely adorable

hinata knows how to take care of his body and TRIES not to overwork himself but sometimes he gets really impatient about wanting to improve so he’ll stay late in the gym, practicing his spikes and serves

BUT since his teammates know hinata listens to you they’ll threaten to tell you when he’s overworking

sakusa: hinata, if you don’t leave the gym right this instant i am calling y/n

hinata: just five more minutes!!

sakusa: *pulls out his phones and presses some random numbers in*

hinata: OKAY OKAY I’M GOING

it’s kind of like the adult version of your parents calling the doctor when you don’t want to eat

also you have no idea that this happens

even though he’s moved on from it, hinata still gets a bit paranoid about playing a major game while being sick

you’re always at their games as part of their medic crew and before it starts, hinata always comes up to you and asks if you can take his temperature

you didn’t know why until atsumu explained everything so now you make sure to always have a temperature on you for hinata’s peace of mind

Atsumu Miya:

someone who actually knows what physical therapists actually do thank god

ngl you’re kinda shookt at how large he is in real life when he walks into your clinic

he also assumes right away that you want an autograph so he gifts you a signed picture of himself which you always have on your desk from now on because come on you are a fan

atsumu’s really nice to talk to, he does flirt quite a bit but he genuinely asks about how you are too or if your family is doing alright

such a sweet boy

atsumu’s the one who visits your office often but for reasons that are actually relevant to your job because this man just overexerts himself too much

and he keeps brushing it off and saying that he’s alright but you know better you’re a physical therapist for god’s sake

atsumu: i’m telling you. it’s just a sprain!

you: *pokes his ankle*

atsumu: aaaAAAAAAHHHH

he’s the one that you have to constantly keep tabs on and thanks to the help of his teammates and a spare key, you’re able to drop by his apartment once in a while

but no matter how much of a pain in the ass he is you still can’t help but want to take care of him. whenever you make yourself dinner you find yourself making seconds for atsumu

before you know it, you’re making dinner for your favorite MSBY boys because you don’t want them to feel left out

you also have to stop atsumu from overdoing on the protein shakes and drinking vitamins

because he’s addicted protein shakes especially the strawberry-flavored one but you’re the only one who knows that so shhhhhh

atsumu: if one vitamin capsule makes me healthy, does that mean drinking more will make me even more healthy ??

you: NO STOP. STOP WHATEVER YOU’RE DOING. RIGHT NOW.

one time you got a call in the middle of the night from atsumu saying that he ate an entire container of gummy vitamins and you had to run to his place in your pajamas

idk you just see him so much because he keeps getting injuries and it’s hilarious

atsumu, walking into your clinic: hey, doc! they sent me here cause my back hurts from carrying the entire team!

you: atsumu, you dislocated your shoulder

Sakusa Kiyoomi:

probably your most normal client among the four of them but that doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy his visits to the clinic

well, actually when he first visited your clinic, everyone else stalked him because they wanted to see his Flexible Wrists in action

you had to chase them out

sakusa is SO HAPPY that you just took one look at his Flexi-Wrists and noted it down without going batshit over it

you always spray the cots and your instruments with alcohol before he comes in and sakusa knows cause he smells it and he appreciates that so much

one thing that you do notice is that sakusa,,, frequently glances at the jar of lollipops you keep on your desk and give out to your kid patients

and after a session he just lingers for a bit before saying good bye and leaving so one day you just take a chance

you: would you,,, like a lollipop?

sakusa: .... yes please

he chooses a cherry flavored one and is about to leave when he sits back down on the chair

sakusa: they’ll never let me hear the end of it if they see me

so you let him stay in your clinic for a bit longer before deciding to also get a lollipop and that’s how the two of you end your sessions

no talking. just lollipop eating

(i know how it looks but pls don’t add sexual connotations i jus want sakusa to enjoy a fricking lollipop)

he actually likes to remember the scientific muscle names and everything just to impress you

also, he doesn’t want to give you a hard time but he also likes visiting your office and talking to you (and eating the lollipops) so he makes up all these excuses to come by your clinic

sakusa: i hit my toe on the table

you: okaay, do you need a bandaid?

sakusa: it was the small toe

sakusa’s quite selective about the people he’s with so he’s kind of attached to you now. like it or not, you’re his personal doctor

prepare to receive texts like ‘y/n, i have a cough. what should i drink?’

you: sakusa, i’m a PHYSICAL THERAPIST

you: also, ginger tea is supposed to be good for you

he’s actually your eyes and ears when it comes to monitoring the team. kind of like the kid who tattles to the teacher in pre-school

sakusa: y/n, atsumu’s overdoing it again

you: is that so?

atsumu, in the background: NOOOOO NOOO I’M NOT !! SAKUSA’S LYING

you have such a soft spot for sakusa. when he had to be confined at home for breaking his ankle, you sent him a whole jar of lollipops

he ate them all in one day

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

taglist (still open to anyone who wants in!): @montys-chaos @miyumtwins @strawberriimilkshake @pocubo @sugawara-sweetheart @akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan @therainroguefanfiction @atetiffdoesart @stephdaninja @oikaw-ugh @charliefredb @dramaqueenweeb1469 @tremblinghearts @applepienation @doodleniella @haikyuu-my-love @waitforitillwritemywayout @kattykurr @tpwkatsumu

418 notes · View notes

angelicyoongie · 4 years

Text

desolate (9)

— summary: you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so, you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

— pairing: cat hybrid yoongi x human reader

— genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut

— word count: 5.2k

— tag list: @mrcleanheichou @ladymidnightt @cheese123344 @xanny91 @dinorahrodriguez @best-space-boy @dulcaet @moccahobi @keijaycreates @staytrillswag @xsmilebitesx @serendipityoreuphoria @jiminot7 @beyond-the-swag @nananaum1 @ditttiii @faithsummers11 @twomilkmen-gocomedy @theonewholovestoread @karissassirak @veryuniquenamegoeshere @yourlipssoirresistible @ayoo-bangtan @murderyoursoul @btsxdoll @see3milyblog @gukiyi @narcissism-iskey @sp3ak-yours3lf @cesthoney @imluckybitches @hd-junglebook @sugarrimajins @multifandomgirl29 @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @bangtansleftnut @theresa-nam-nam-me @angeltothecore @ghostkat23 @deathkat657 @httpmedxsa @veronawrites @bubbletae7 @serious-addiction @chogiyeol-utopia @nomimits7 @lorielulu7 @1am9root6 @sana-b @diamonddia-mond @jiminiessipabo @myhearttteu @rainbowmagicpixecorn @lidda @rosiethefairy @lovinggalaxies @midnight1199 @trinityautumn @linniewritesficz @fearhoshi @juniesoftbot @kingalls00 @toribug2020 @daydreambrliever @sleepyje0n @yoonie-bby @honestlyfuriousharmony @itsoktheresbts @suzziequeuie @illnevertrustmyselfagain @annoyingpessimist @lovelikeyouwant @cigarettes-after-tears @kookie-vuitton @thefangirlsoul @lmna990 @luvshorses08 @nanananisstuff @marvelstuck @kissmeimwitchy @hxsxxk-180294 @ratking101 @shameless-army @yuukihime2097 @heimdoodle @kissing-fear @toripeix @horanghae18 @redperson58 @awsome-small-k @salomea27 @johnnystolemywig @adoorinyourheart @alltimeyoongi @miss–insanity @originalpersonawobblerduck @crazyxforxmyself @brittaney341

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part ten (M) Part eleven Part twelve Part thirteen Part fourteen (M)

The man gulps loudly, his eyes flying over your face in the darkness. Your body is frozen stiff with terror, your brain short-circuiting as he takes another step forward.

“C-can I help you with anything?” The man stutters, his squeaky voice somehow matching his lanky appearance. He seems surprisingly nervous to find you here, but it’s not like that does much to soothe your fears. You grasp his desk behind your back, rooting yourself in the feeling of the cold wood beneath your palms.

“My computer died, I don’t know how to fix it,” You say, praying he doesn’t hear the slight tremor in your voice.

“But it can wait until tomorrow, sorry for bugging you!” You push off the desk with a strained smile, quickly maneuvering around him as you start walking towards the door with hurried steps.

“N-no wait, I can help you!” The loud footsteps rushing up behind you makes your shoulders shoot up to your ears with tension, your flight or fight response begging you to get out of there as fast as possible. But the man reaches your side before you can make a choice, his breath slightly labored from the sprint he just did across the room.

“Sure,” You wince as he walks past you, his long legs already carrying him up the stairs. You make sure to keep some space between you as you follow him. It feels a little ridiculous considering he hasn’t actually done anything bad, but you learned long ago that it’s important to trust your gut, and you still don’t have an explanation as to why he has your things.

The man abruptly stops as he reaches the first cluster of desks on your floor, letting you pass him by to lead him over to your computer. “It just turned off and won’t come back on,” You give yourself an internal round of applause for how steady your voice sounds, despite your heart feeling like it’s about to jump out of your chest.

He gives you a curt nod, eyes glued to your desk as he slides down into your chair. You step back to give him room, following his movements carefully as he opens up a panel to look inside the consol. You let your eyes wander slightly, just enough to realize how odd this guy really is.

His clothes don’t match up with the uniform the IT department normally wears, and his hair seems to be too long. You’re honestly surprised he has managed to keep it at that length; your boss would surely throw a fit if he ever noticed. Even if you pushed all of those things aside, he still has this air of something being a little off surrounding him, and it’s enough to keep you feeling alert.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts as your screen suddenly lights up, the man shifting in your chair to stand. As he rises, the soft blue hue illuminating your desk catches on a weird pattern on his neck. You inch forward to get a better look, but his hair falls back down to cover it before you can see it properly. It’s probably just a tattoo of some kind, but you feel like the pattern looks oddly familiar for some reason.

“Y-you should try logging in and see if it works,” Another wave of unease washes over you as he turns his attention back to you. You’re not even sure if you have seen him blink yet. Pushing it into the back of your mind, you take a seat in front of him, all too aware of his presence just behind your back.

You quickly type in your information, fingers flying over the keyboard with a speed you didn’t even know you possessed. It feels like hours have passed before the screen finally changes to your homepage, but your relief is short-lived as the program you had been working in tries booting up and failing, again and again.

“I-it’s overworked. Y-you just need to close it down and fill in new information one by one,” You stiffen as the man reaches over your shoulder for the mouse, his other hand tapping away on the keyboard as he forcibly quits the program. You hold your breath as you feel his chest against your shoulders, his face way too close to yours for comfort.

Your lungs are burning for air when he finally pulls back, your hands wrapped together tightly in your lap.

“I-it should be okay now,” He stammers out, eyes gliding over your form one last time before he scurries out of your sight.

You collapse against the back of your chair, running your fingers through your hair as you take some deep breaths. You can still feel the ghost of his body against your own, the lingering coldness he seemed to be radiating. Sure - it’s getting closer and closer to winter, but how can someone be so cold? It doesn’t seem humanly possible.

You quickly snatch up your belongings, only tearing your eyes away from the entrance of the floor to make sure you’ve got everything. The more you learn about him, the more suspicious he becomes. Obviously him taking some stationary, acting weird and being cold isn’t enough to tell your boss about, but you decide you’re definitely going to be keeping an eye on him. Something just doesn’t sit right with you.

You practically run out of the office, the brisk air doing little to calm your mind as you hurry home.

You take a step back in surprise as you’re hit with a wall of warmth as soon as you open the door to your apartment. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Yoongi has been cranking up the heating while you’re at work. You sigh as you remove your shoes and coat, the electricity bill just adding to your long list of problems. While you would love to not have to worry about things like this and just let Yoongi do whatever he wants – the reality is that you can’t. Not unless you want the both of you to end up on the street.

“Yoongi?” You call out as you put away your purse. You’ve grown so used to Yoongi practically waiting for you at your door, or at least coming out to greet you, that not seeing or hearing him at all is weird.

“M’here,” A muffled voice comes from your bedroom, the sound barely making it past the tiny crack between the door and the frame. As you push it open, you’re greeted with the sight of Yoongi swaddled up in all the blankets you own, his furry cat ears barely peeking out on top of them.

“Comfortable?” You grin teasingly as you make your way over to your closet, pulling out some cozy clothes to change into. You feel like a magician as you try to pull out a sweater without knocking over everything on top of it. You ended up moving some clothes around to free up some space for Yoongi, but your already tiny closet doesn’t seem to be too happy about the change considering it threatens to spew out all of your clothes whenever you try to grab something.

“It’s cold,” Yoongi grumbles in response, his narrowed eyes barely visible underneath the mountain of blankets he’s surrounded himself with.

“It hasn’t grown that cold just overnight Yoongi,” You gesture over to his form, but Yoongi just huffs in response. You suppose it’s probably just a hybrid thing. Maybe he’s just more susceptible to the cold than you are.

“I don’t mind you taking all the blankets, but you can’t turn the heating up so high. It’s ..” You grimace, voice trailing off as you see Yoongi’s ears start to flatten. He probably can’t help it if he’s cold, and asking him to turn the heat down might just be cruel if his internal temperature is suddenly so wonky. Maybe you can just pick up some extra work somewhere else during the winter months.

“It’s too expensive. I forgot, I’m sorry,” Yoongi finally pokes his head fully out of the covers, the corner of his lips tugging downwards as he looks at you apologetically.

“It’s okay. A little extra heat is fine, just not on the highest setting,” You’re about to exit the room when you see the little shiver than seems to run through Yoongi’s body, the cat hybrid closing his eyes momentarily as it passes.

“Are you sick?! Is that why you’re feeling cold?” You hurry over to the bed, carefully placing your hand on Yoongi’s forehead to feel for his temperature. You almost hiss in surprise as you touch his skin, he’s absolutely freezing in comparison to you.

You feel Yoongi’s body stiffen under your touch, his eyes snapping up to yours as you flip your hand around. You were hoping you might just have cold hands from being outside but no, his temperature is definitely way lower than it should be.

“Why do you smell like that?” Yoongi’s voice is tense as he leans forward, his nostrils flaring slightly as he inhales your scent.

“Like what?” You turn your head to sniff your sweater, already moving back from Yoongi in case you happen to smell bad. But a cold hand shoots out of the blankets to grab yours before you can step away fully, Yoongi pulling you back. You’re practically kneeling on the bed in front of the cat hybrid, one hand almost touching his chest from how close he’s pulled you in.

“You smell like someone else,” He hisses. And oh, the realization hits you just a little too late. The IT guy must have left his scent on you when he touched you earlier. You watch as Yoongi shakes off his blankets, his tail bristling up as soon as it’s free.

“Oh,” You say dumbly as Yoongi’s expression darkens. You can’t figure out why he seems so upset – you can’t imagine that this is the first time you’ve ever come home smelling like another person. You hug Jihyo all the time after all.

“Oh?” He echoes, lips pressed into a firm line. “Are you not going to tell me who it was, kitten?”

Your mind goes blank at the nickname as Yoongi grabs a hold of your other hand, the movement so fast it makes you stumble forward on the bed. You swallow thickly as you find your hands pressed up against Yoongi’s chest, his pale fingers wrapped around your wrists. Yoongi watches you through hooded lids, his black cat ears twitching as he hears your shaky exhale.

“I-it’s not important. He’s not important,” You mutter, heat creeping up your neck as Yoongi’s tail brushes against your legs. You don’t want to mention the guy from work. You don’t have any hard evidence to show except for him being a little creepy, and you don’t want to worry Yoongi with it in case it pans out to be nothing more.

“So it was a he,” A displeasured sound rumbles from Yoongi’s chest, the vibrations so strong you can feel it through the fabric of his shirt.

“Why does it matter?” You ask. Yoongi scoffs as he slowly inches closer, the look in his eyes bordering on predatory.

“Of course it matters,” Yoongi says, his face is so close you can count every eyelash. He pauses, eyes turning dark as they flicker down to your lips. “You should only smell like me, you’re my owner after all.”

“Owner?!” You choke, eyes widening in surprise at Yoongi’s nonchalant attitude. You had never thought of yourself as Yoongi’s owner – the idea of owning something that was even remotely human making you feel sick.

Yoongi only hums in response, fingers leaving your wrist to cup your cheek instead. “I belong to you, you belong to me. Isn’t that what you promised when you signed those papers at the shelter?”

Yoongi runs his thumb across your cheek, the touch so soft and delicate you wouldn’t even had known it was there, if it wasn’t for the trail of fire his fingertips leave behind on your skin.

“I thought you were a cat!” You sputter.

“And?” Yoongi’s hand slips from your face, a fingertip ghosting over the corner of your mouth before he drops it. His adverts his eyes with a frown, ears pinned back against his head as he leans back. Your face is burning, but at least the little distance he’s given you is enough to clear your mind from repeating Yoongi’s name over and over.

“I don’t want to own you, Yoongi. You’re a human being. It doesn’t work like that.” Yoongi’s grip loosens around your wrist, just enough to allow to you pull your hands back down into your lap.

“Fine, if you say so,” He hisses, hands scrambling to wrap the blankets back around himself once more. You slowly rise to your feet, your chest churning with uncertainty as you pick up the clothes you dropped on the floor earlier. You can feel Yoongi’s gaze burning into the side of your face through the small opening between the blankets.

“At least go wash off that stench.” He growls.

You don’t waste any time as you hurry out of the room, quickly closing the bathroom door behind you as you get inside. You rest your forehead against the wood, a string of low curses falling from your lips.

This whole situation has made you feel weird. Yoongi has never acted like this before, never been so obviouslyjealous of someone else touching you, and well, judging by the blush in your cheeks and the hard pounding of your heart, you kind of … like it. And you don’t know what you’re supposed to do with that realization.

You groan in despair as you quickly strip off your clothes, hopping into the shower to wash off whatever scent might be left lingering on your skin. You find yourself outside of your bedroom door again in no time, hand resting on the doorknob uncertainly. It’s not like you can avoid Yoongi or the feelings that suddenly jumped you out of nowhere forever, you live together in a pretty tiny apartment after all. You open the door just enough to catch a glimpse of the pile of blankets, your voice soft as you call out to him.

“Have you eaten any dinner yet?” You get a grunt in response, and you take that as a firm ‘no’. You’re pretty sure Yoongi must be coming down with something based on how freezing he feels to the touch and with how weird he’s acting, so you figure at least getting him to eat is important.

For the first time since Yoongi started warming up to you, you eat your dinners separately.

The cat hybrid refused your offer to come out into the living room, instead telling you to leave the bowl of soup just inside the door to your bedroom. You obliged of course, not wanting to pressure him if he doesn’t feel well, but you’ve grown so used to Yoongi’s company that it feels strangely empty eating alone again.

You swirl your spoon around absentmindedly, watching as the pieces of vegetables float around in your bowl. You know Yoongi is only at the other side of the door, but it feels too far – too lonely. You chew on your lip, annoyed with how clingy you’re acting. If you’re already feeling like this after just living together for a month, you don’t want to know how attached you’re going to become later. You don’t even know how long Yoongi will stay; he has nothing tying him down here. You’re just something in-between, just a place for him to crash at until it’s safe for him to leave. You push your bowl away with a sigh, your appetite spoiled.

A quick look at your phone confirms that it’s time to go to sleep unless you want to be a walking zombie tomorrow. And if you happen spend a little extra time in the bathroom getting ready for bed, in hopes that Yoongi will have transformed and gone to sleep by the time you’re done, then well that’s nobody’s business besides your own. But you should have known you wouldn’t be that lucky.

Your heart flips when you open the door, a very human looking Yoongi staring right back at you. He’s sprawled across your bed, using every inch for what it’s worth. You notice that the pile of blankets has been pushed down to the floor by his side.

“I’m staying here tonight,” He announces, his tail swishing languidly back and forth over your comforter as he watches you move around the room. The bowl you gave him earlier is empty, so thankfully he still has an appetite.

“Don’t you do that every night?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow. Yoongi hums, his pupils growing larger the more light you turn off. His eyes roam over your face unabashedly, the glint in his eyes matching the lazy smirk that grows on his lips.

“Sure .. but not like this.”

“Like what?” You step up next to the bed, pausing in confusion as Yoongi suddenly gets under the duvet. He usually always sleeps on top of it.

“I’m staying here the way I am now – ” Yoongi tilts his head, the challenge clear in his eyes as he makes himself comfortable in your bed, “Human.”

“The couch is breaking my back, so I refuse to sleep there. And it’s too cold for you, so don’t even think about it,” He looks smug, clearly having read your thoughts as they formed in your head.

“What about the rule?” You huff.

“That rule was technically broken the first time I woke up human in your bed,” Yoongi rolls his eyes as he impatiently pats the space next to him.

“Fine, just .. stay on your side,” You say as you pull back the cover, flicking off your bedside light as you climb into bed. You’ve barely laid down before you feel Yoongi’s tail brush against your calves, your sleepwear doing little to cover your legs.

“What did I just say?” You mumble, twisting your neck to look in Yoongi’s direction. You freeze as you find a pair of golden eyes staring back at you, the sliver of light coming from your window illuminating his eyes in the darkness.

“What? I’m on still on my side,” You can hear the teasing tilt to Yoongi’s voice as his tail swipes over your leg, the soft fur almost ticklish against your bare skin.

“Yoongi ..” Your words die in your throat as a cold hand wraps around yours under the covers. Yoongi easily slots your fingers together, golden eyes unblinking as he looks back at you.

“But I’m cold – No, I’m freezing,” He whines. Yeah, you think, Yoongi is definitely sick. There’s no way your grumpy hybrid roommate would ever sound so needy if he wasn’t.

You feel torn, and the fact that your fingers are itching to reach out and tug him closer just makes it even worse. Yoongi is obviously not in his right mind, and considering how your heart was trying to jump out of your chest earlier you have a sneaking feeling that your feelings for Yoongi aren’t all that platonic anymore. You don’t want to take the risk of making the friendship between you turn sour if he wakes up and regrets it in the morning. You’re not sure you can handle going back to how things were before.

“Please?” Yoongi softly adds, your resolve slowly chipping away for every pleading squeeze Yoongi gives your hand. You don’t need any light to imagine the puppy dog eyes he must be giving you in the darkness. You’re sure he could give Sana a run for her money.

“Only until you’re feeling warmer,” The words barely escape your lips before Yoongi brings you closer, his golden eyes glittering in the darkness. He expertly turns you over on your side as his arm snakes around your waist, fluffy tail wrapping around your leg. Yoongi tucks his face against the back of your neck with a content sigh, as shiver travelling down your spine as the puff of air hits your skin.

Your body locks up in shock, partly from having Yoongi pressed up against your back, but also from the icy feel of his skin. You definitely underestimated just how cold he was, it’s no wonder he was buried under so many blankets earlier.

“Thank you,” Yoongi mumbles against your hair, the arm around your waist tightening slightly. You can’t seem to form a coherent thought with Yoongi wrapped around you, but thankfully it doesn’t seem like he’s waiting for an answer.

It doesn’t take long before you hear the familiar broken purrs coming from Yoongi’s chest, the vibrations almost comforting against your back. As Yoongi’s breathing evens out, so does the tension in your body. He doesn’t feel as cold anymore, but that might be because you feel like you’re burning up from the inside out.

You would like to chalk it up to just being nervous because you haven’t been with anyone in a long time, but you know that isn’t true. You’re not nervous because someone is holding you, you’re nervous because that someone is Yoongi. You let out a soft sigh, Yoongi’s cat ears twitching against your jaw in response. You’re still not sure if this is the best idea, but it’s too late now. You’ll just have to deal with whatever outcome that will happen in the morning.

You wake up just in time to silence your alarm, your mind reeling to catch up as you feel soft breaths spill against your neck. It takes you a moment to realize that Yoongi is still cuddled up against your back, and another to realize how his temperature has shifted from freezing to boiling hot. You feel like you’re sleeping next to a furnace, and the drastic change worries you a lot more than what you would like to admit. It would probably be best to call in sick and stay home to make sure he’s okay, but then Jihyo would definitely be over after work to check on you, and that would probably just cause even more problems.

“I’m fine, you can go to work,” You let out a startled sound as Yoongi’s raspy voice fills your ears, the cat hybrid snuggling closer to your neck. You hear him inhale deeply, a happy rumble coming from his chest as he smells your mixed scents.

“You don’t feel fine to me Yoongi,” You desperately try to ignore how attractive his voice sounds, fighting to hold back the blush you can feel is starting to bloom on your cheeks.

“S’okay, nothing to worry about. Just need to sleep,” Yoongi untangles himself slowly, a low whine of protest escaping his lips as he flips around. He has never had to fight so hard with himself to let go, his instincts screaming at him to claim you.

You sit up to find that his ears are pinned back, his tail sliding from your legs to wrap around his own. He curls up into a ball, his hair plastered to the back of his neck. You gently lay a hand on his shoulder, but the wounded noise he lets out makes you snatch your hand back just as quickly.

“Please go,” Yoongi begs. “Don’t come back today. Stay with your friend and her dog,” Yoongi’s pained voice shifts into a growl at the mention of Jihyo and Sana. The sudden animosity in his voice almost gives you whiplash, but you have a sneaking suspicion he might be running a fever based on how hot he feels.

“Yoongi,” You hesitate. You can’t leave him alone if he’s sick, especially since you can’t take him to the hospital to get treated. He deserves to have someone to care for him.

“I said, go!” Yoongi whirls around so fast you almost tumble off the bed, the wild expression in Yoongi’s face making your stomach twist. His hair is sticking out to all sides, eyes blown out despite the light in the room. He reminds you of an animal ready to pounce as he lets out a loud hiss, his canines poking out over his lips.

You scramble out of bed, grabbing the first things you can see as you hurry out of the room. The moment you close the door behind you something smacks hard against it, Yoongi’s labored breathing sounding through from the other side. You’re about to open it to check if he’s okay when the lock clicks shut, and Yoongi lets out another growl.

“I wouldn’t want to stick around for too long if I were you kitten.”

You can’t remember the last time you got ready so quickly, only pausing in your quest to hurriedly pull out some food for Yoongi in case he gets hungry. While his sudden shift in demeanor scares you a little, you can’t help but worry. Something is definitely wrong, and while it might bring your early demise, you only have one person you trust enough to ask.

“I told you!” Sana chirps, her body seemingly a little confused if she should be happy or concerned that she’s been proven right. You waited until after work to spill the truth about Yoongi, not trusting the office to be a safe place to share any secrets.

Jihyo looks like she’s holding herself back from strangling you, a mix of anger and concern pulling her features tight.

“I thought you wanted me to get a hybrid?” You ask, leaning back in your chair as Jihyo points a shaking finger in your direction.

“Not like this y/n! You have no idea if Yoongi is telling you the truth. Maybe he’s just waiting for you to let your guard down so that he can murder you in your sleep!” She hisses, the action so similar to Yoongi it makes you feel even guiltier for leaving him alone at home.

“You and me both know he would’ve done that ages ago if that was the case,” You frown, anger lacing your voice at Jihyo’s ridiculous accusations. Jihyo crosses her arms with a huff.

“Scared,” Sana suddenly chimes in, her eyes glued to the table as you and Jihyo turn your attention to the dog hybrid. “He was scared. When I picked up the scent that was his strongest emotion,” She hangs her head, her white ears drooping down.

“I don’t think he would ever hurt y/n. He just seemed terrified that he would be exposed and thrown out,” You can see the guilt forming on Sana’s face, Jihyo reached out to comfort her immediately.

“It’s not your fault honey, you were just trying to protect my friend – your friend,” Jihyo pats Sana’s head comfortingly.

“I think he’s sick,” You mumble. “I can’t take him to get checked out in case they alert his owner, but I don’t know how to help him either. He looked really terrible when I left him,” Truth be told, you hadn’t been able to focus all day, your worry constantly eating away at your concentration.

Jihyo sighs, tiredly running a hand over her face as Sana leans against her shoulder.

“What kind of sick are we talking?”

“He was freezing yesterday, but when he woke up today he was burning up,” You miss the way Sana’s eyes light up in recognition, a faint blush dusting her cheeks.

“Oh, uh, anything else?” Jihyo’s voice grows weird, her eyes refusing to meet yours.

“I guess he’s been clingier lately? But I just thought that was him opening up more,” You bite your lip, trying to rack your brain to remember if Yoongi has been acting weird in any other way.

“Yesterday he was uhm, uncharacteristically jealous? He said I had someone else’s scent on me, and he seemed like he absolutely hated it,” You wince.

Jihyo chokes on her breath, Sana quickly excusing herself from the table to fetch her a glass of water. Your friend glares at Sana’s retreating back with a look of betrayal as her coughing ceases.

“Yoongi isn’t sick,” Jihyo clears her throat.

“Really?” You slump against your seat in relief, but it’s short-lived. That’s should be great news, so why does she look so concerned?

“Yeah, what he’s experiencing isn’t a sickness, but rather something all hybrids go through,” You nod uncertainly as Jihyo grimaces.

“Sana had those symptoms a little while after I brought her home too, it’s uh, their heat. Or in Yoongi’s case, his rut,” Jihyo says, her hands twisting on top of the table as she tries to figure out the best way to explain it.

“It happens naturally a few times a year, you can’t really do anything to stop it. Normally the symptoms are a lot milder than what you described, but I’m guessing Yoongi’s body might have suppressed his rut for a while if he wasn’t in a safe environment. So I think this might have been multiple ruts hitting him all at once,” You can’t help but feel a little pleased at Jihyo’s comment, that Yoongi must finally feel safe for his body to try to correct what has been pushed down for so long, but it’s quickly overtaking by concern.

“So it’s worse than just a normal rut then?” You ask. Jihyo nods in response.

“I’m obviously not a hybrid doctor, but I did a lot of research before I got Sana. Usually hybrids can do just fine on their own during their heats or ruts, they just have a heightened sex drive for a few days. But for Yoongi .. It’s probably really painful to go through it without a partner. And who knows how long it might last since it’s multiple ruts stacked into once.”

“Fuck,” You murmur. You should have done some research the moment you realized he was a hybrid. He shouldn’t have to suffer just because you’re ignorant of his needs. You might not be his legal owner, but you still took him in and practically promised him you would take care of him while he stayed with you.

“Is it too late to find a partner for him now?” You give Jihyo a pleading look, desperately hoping she might have the solution to your problems.

“No .. not really. I’m sure you could find a female cat hybrid somewhere that could be with him,” Jihyo watches you carefully as the words sink in, your heart being dragged to the bottom of your stomach along with them. While the thought of Yoongi being with someone else – and in your bed of all places – makes you feel terrible, this can’t be about you. Not when Yoongi is in pain.

“But even if you do find someone, it doesn’t mean he’ll accept them.” She pauses, eyes flickering over to Sana’s returning form before settling back on you.

“He might have already chosen a mate for his rut,” Sana sinks back into her seat besides Jihyo, the dog hybrid clasping one of your friend’s hands tightly between her own. Jihyo swallows hard, Sana giving her hand an encouraging squeeze.

“If his behavior is anything to go by .. I think Yoongi might have already chosen you.”

- - - - Oh uh, is that some incoming smut I'm smelling? Hope y'all are ready for a chapter that will mainly be 90% filth, aksjsj. And our resident creeper is just becoming more and more suspicious, isn't he? P.s. In case you’ve missed it, I’m doing a follower event where you can request prompt for me to fulfill! So definitely check that out here if that’s something that interests you. Hope you’re all well and my inbox is always open if you want to chat about the story or just fics or life in general! See you all soon! <3

#hybrid bts #hybrid!bts #cat hybrid yoongi #bts au #hybrid au #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #min yoongi #fluff #scenting #romance #bts #angst #suga

2K notes · View notes

sushiburritonoms · 3 years

Note

DinLuke 10. high school popular kid/nerd au

I've been sitting on this AU Fic request all week because High School was a long time ago for me and I have no idea what all you young people are doing these days. After talking to Dark, I finally came up with an idea based off what I remember from high school in the 1990s. Hence this is one of the more serious ficlets I've done, but then again I've never thought of the high school genre as a happy one? Unless we're talking about Sailor Moon or something (which trust me I WAS TEMPTED).

10. High school popular kid/nerd AU

Warnings: USA centric, Time period appropriate homophobia, homophobic language, school bullying.

This looked so easy in the movies.

Din squinted at his target, readjusted his stance and after a moment, let the small pebble fly from his hand. It made a graceful arch…and landed on the top of the roof instead of hitting Luke’s second floor bedroom window. Again. He groaned.

“I can’t believe you’re the Captain of the football team.”

Din yelped and spun around. Standing directly behind him was Luke’s twin sister, staring at him with an annoyed expression on her face. She was still dressed in the same white cardigan, pink spaghetti strap tank and skinny jeans he’d seen her in at school, and was carrying her silver JanSport bag on her back and her clarinet case in one hand. If looks could kill, Din would be….well. Not dead, but most likely wounded, since the look Leia Amidala Skywalker was giving him was one of distrust and utter annoyance.

A thousand different excuses flew through Din’s head, in one ear and out the other. Of all the things he could have said, what actually came out was, “I thought you had Jazz Band today.” Or was it Model UN? Was it Thursday yet?

“It was cancelled. Ms. Junda is out sick.” Leia used her free hand to push her glasses further up her nose. “Why didn’t you just use the front door like a normal person?” She shook her head at him and started to walk towards her front door.

Din hesitated.

Leia looked back and rolled her eyes. “My parents aren’t home. My mom has another fundraiser and my dad got dragged into helping. Doesn’t my parasitic twin tell you anything?”

Din frowned. He took AP Bio and that insult made no sense. “Did you two have another argument?”

Leia gave him an incredulous look. “We never fight.”

Not according to Luke, but Din wisely avoided mentioning that. “My pager got confiscated,” Din admitted. “It went off during history and Mr. Mundi took it.”

“You could have just talked to him,” Leia said. Then she used the palm of her hand to hit her head. “Oh duh, I forgot. You’re too cool to talk to Wormie and Squirmie at school.”

“Hey!” Din walked over to Leia. “I don’t call you guys that.” He hated Luke and Leia’s stupid nicknames. He couldn’t stand the way the other kids treated the Skywalker twins, especially Fett and his gang of morons.

Leia’s hand jingled as she pulled out her house key. “You don’t stop them,” she said quietly as she turned her back to Din. “It’s pretty much the same thing.”

Din felt his heart drop into his chest. That wasn’t true. Every time he heard his teammates talking smack about other kids he told them off. But apart from Football practice, he didn’t really spend time talking with Fett and his friends. He was too busy working his afterschool job at Blockbuster and helping his foster mom with the other kids. “I would,” he protested. “If Fett or anyone else ever said anything to my face about you and Luke, I would smack ‘em.”

Leia side eyed him, with her hand still clutching at her front door. “What about Han? Would you stand up for him?”

“Han Solo?” Din blinked. The infamous dropout of Coruscant High? “I thought he joined a biker gang?”

That was the wrong thing to say. Leia whirled around. “No he didn’t! What is wrong with you!” She swung her clarinet case at Din and he had to take several steps back. “I don’t know what Luke sees in you, you stupid jock!”

“HEY! Shhh! I’m sorry, I’m sorry ok! Calm down!” Din looked around nervously to see if anyone had heard Leia. He had no idea what he’d done to piss Luke’s sister off. They’d never had more than a few short conversations with each other ever since Din moved into town two years ago.

“What? You don’t want people to know you’re a homo?” Leia shouted at him. She had tears in her eyes. “You afraid you’ll stop being Mr. Popular if they knew you were a gaylord like Luke? Huh? You thick headed, scruffy looking….Neanderthal!”

“Leia!”

Din and Leia both froze. They hadn’t noticed the front door opening nor noticed Luke until he was standing right in front of them. His blond hair was all disheveled and he had an ice pack in one hand and the beginnings of an awful black eye on his swollen face. His lip was cut up and there was blood dotting his green t-shirt.

“What happened!” Din blurted out. He pushed past Leia to hover next to Luke. “Who did this?!”

Luke winced and pulled away before Din could touch his face. “I’m fine. Will you two get in here before you get outed to the entire town?”

Din opened his mouth to reply but was shoved into the doorframe by a furious Leia. “I didn’t know it was this bad.” She grabbed her brother’s hand and dragged him into their living room.

“I’m fine!” Luke repeated. “How’d you even find out?”

“Amy told me. She saw the fight.” She pulled Luke over to their couch and nudged her brother into sitting. Din quietly closed the door and watched the siblings from a safe distance. Amy must have been Amilyn Holdo, the school’s resident weirdo. She was one of Leia’s best friends and another frequent target of the meaner kids in their class.

“Ugh Leia, quit it! Did you skip Jazz Band for me?!” Luke tried to wiggle away from his sister as Leia fussed over his cut lip.

“I thought it was cancelled,” Din frowned.

“That’s what we’re telling my parents,” Leia muttered. “But I don’t think we can explain this!”

Luke sighed. “You know they won’t even notice.” He sounded so defeated that Din felt a surge of rage at Mrs. Skywalker and her busy city council career.

“Mom’s gonna notice a black eye!” Leia paused. “Eventually.”

Din counted to three just like his foster mother was always telling him to do. “Will someone tell me what the hell happened?!”

Both twins turned to look at him simultaneously, doing that creepy staring thing that made them frequent targets of the school bullies. “Greedo,” they both said at once.

Ugh. He really liked Luke, but that was just too creepy. It reminded him of the movie Village of the Damned. “Christopher Greedo?”

They both nodded. “He insulted Han,” Luke protested. “Spreading rumors about him and nobody was saying anything.”

OH. Now Leia’s earlier comments made sense. “You tried to fight Greedo?” Chris Greedo was infamous for his bad temper, a real ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ type of jerk.

“He keeps spreading that stupid biker gang rumor. Nobody knows what really happened to him.” Luke kept clenching and unclenching his fists--which also looked bruised. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Din slowly started to approach the twins, keeping one eye on Leia. She glared at him but still scooted over so that Din could sit next to Luke.

“What really happened?” He asked gently. He only hesitated for a moment before he reached over and grabbed one of Luke’s bruised hands.

“Han’s old man threw him out.” Leia answered instead of Luke. “He’s been homeless for the last four months.”

“He’s currently living with Chuy Baca’s family on the East Side,” Luke added. “It’s not fair! Han was so close to finally graduating this year but Leia and I can’t convince him to come back.”

“That’s messed up,” Din said as he looked at Leia. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

It felt like he was being judged by Leia as her brown eyes peered into him. “It’s alright,” she said finally. “Now you do.”

There was a whole lot of school politics that Din didn’t understand, even though he’d been living in Coruscant for two years. He knew that Han, Leia and Luke’s nerdy group of friends were low on the social totem pole and by sheer luck Din’s athletic ability meant he was attractive to the popular group that ran the school. Boba Fett in particular acted like he was some sort of king and because Din was useful to him he had become one of the ‘cool kids’ for the first time in his life. Boba had some sort of grudge against the Church that Luke’s parents attended (Church of the Sith Eternal or something like that). The other kids also picked on Leia because she was at the top of their class and Luke because he was gay. It didn't matter that Leia had garnered enough votes from the underclassmen to become the secretary of the Student Council. She wasn’t liked by Boba, so that meant the Juniors and Seniors had it out for her.

Din had tried to stay out of the politics. He had his Senior year and then he was done--he would be finished with school and aged out of the foster care system. Maybe he’d go community college (if by some miracle he could find the money) but most likely he’d end up in the military like his foster brother Paz. He had so many other problems to deal with, from helping out his loving but overworked foster mother to his uncertain future. But now as he looked at the horrible bruising on Luke’s face and the tears that still lingered in Leia’s eyes, he realized he was making a huge mistake. Distancing himself from the twins and taking refuge in his own popularity wasn’t right. Somebody had to stand up to the ridiculous bullies of Coruscant High. Starting with that slimy bitch Greedo.

“Easy, Romeo.” Din felt a pillow smack the side of his head and he looked up to see Leia shaking her head at him. “I can feel the bloodlust from here. Punching Greedo in the face isn’t gonna help Luke and you’ll only get yourself detention.”

“I’m fine!” Luke insisted as he gingerly put his ice pack back on his eye. They ignored him.

“He can’t keep getting away with this,” Din argued.

“I agree but we have to be smart about this. I’ve seen your GPA Djarin, I know you’re not a moron.”

Luke frowned. “How did you see his grades? Are you hacking into Principal Windu’s computer again?!””

Din tilted his head. “You have a plan.”

Leia adjusted her glasses again. “I have several plans, ranging in severity. Some of which hinge on you.”

Luke groaned. “Oh no.”

“Me?”

“Amilyn and I have a plan to take out the worst of Luke’s tormentors…” Leia hesitated for a moment before continuing, “but it depends on if you’re willing to come out of the closet or not.”

“What! NO!” Luke jerked up before Din could say a word. “You can’t Leia, he’s gonna go to the army next year! They won’t take him if he’s out!”

Leia nodded. “We don’t have to use that plan--”

“--I never said I was going to enlist for sure,” Din interrupted. “I’d like to hear all your plans first.”

Luke turned to him with wide eyes. “No! I’m not worth it!”

“Don’t say that!” Leia scoffed. “If anything, he’s not worth it.”

“Hey.” Din frowned.

“He’s about to graduate!” Luke said to his sister. “Why would we drag him down with us when he’s close to getting out of this hellhole!”

“Because you still have one more year and I can’t take this anymore.” Leia was crying now, slow tears dripping from the corners of her eyes. “Luke, please. Let me help.” She turned to Din. “I know you don’t really want to join the army, I heard you talking to Fennec last week. If you’re willing to work on this with me and Amy, I’ll see to it my mom hires you after you graduate.”

Din hesitated. A promise of a job after high school, something that paid more than Blockbuster, would be a real life changer for him. But there was a problem. “Wait. Will this plan of yours out Luke to your parents? I thought they’d be against it because of their religion.”

This made Leia snort. “Please, my dad is the worst Sith in the world and my mom is only in it for him. The bonus is that this plan would convince dad to finally leave that cult.”

Luke shook his head. “If Aunt Ahsoka and Ben weren’t enough to get dad to leave, why do you think he’d leave for me.”

Din tightened his grip on Luke’s hand. “Your dad loves you,” he said quietly. “I’ve seen how he interacts with you. I’ve always thought you weren’t giving Anakin enough credit.”

Leia nodded. “We’re almost in the new millenium, lots of people are out now,” she argued. “It's not like how it was when Aunt Ahsoka was outed.”

“I don’t know, this is a lot!” Luke moaned. But he allowed Din to tuck his head onto his chest and to wrap his arms around him. Din was happy to see Leia smile at them instead of reacting with any sort of disgust.

“Why don’t we just take this one step at a time,” Din suggested. “Can you call Amilyn over to talk about all these different plans?”

Leia nodded. She wiped her face with the back of her cardigan sleeve and took a deep breath. “I’ll page her. Will you stay for dinner? We’re ordering pizza. Our parents will be out all night.”

“I need to call home, but yeah, sure.” He wasn’t one to turn down free food.

“Coolio. I’ll brb!” Leia shot up from the couch. She walked over to her brother and gave him a soft kiss on the head. It meant that she had to lean close to Din and he could smell something sweet and floral in her carefully braided hair. “We’re gonna be ok, little brother.”

“I’m two minutes older,” Luke griped. But Din felt Luke relax in his arms.

As Leia left to use the phone in the kitchen, Din slowly loosened his grip around Luke, enough so he could look at his eye. “I thought I taught you to duck.”

“I did! The first time.” Luke flinched as Din carefully applied the ice pack to his face again. “I tried to go low like you said, but then Greedo got me with his knee.”

“That bastard fights dirty,” Din growled. He was going to have to create an ‘accident’ for Greedo in the hallway tomorrow. If he called in his favor to Boba, he might even get one of his lackeys to do it for him.

Din felt Luke’s fingers twist into his plaid shirt. “Let it go. Please. It’s not right if we stoop to his level. And you shouldn’t come out for me, it’ll just ruin your senior year.”

“Who cares about senior year? Why does everyone make such a big deal about it?! Best years of our lives--that’s depressing as shit.” Din raised his hand to Luke’s chin and gently cupped his face. “I’ve been a big fat coward, ok? This is wrong, Luke. There’s nothing wrong with us.”

Luke swallowed. “There’s a big difference between everyone thinking you’re a fag and being in an actual relationship. I don’t know if you or I are ready for that.”

Din knew what Luke meant. He didn’t know any gay couples. Just rumors of various people, like Luke’s aunt, that existed in their town. There was a significant part of him that was terrified of the consequences of Leia’s plan. Would he still be able to play Football? Would his teammates be afraid of him? What if Leia was wrong and Anakin forbid him from ever seeing Luke again?

But then again, Leia was also right. Luke had one year left and what would happen once he was gone and unable to divert the worst of Luke’s tormentors from jumping him in the hallways? It wasn’t fair to let the injustice in Coruscant stand. Not while he was still around to do something about it.

“I want to take you to Homecoming,” Din admitted. “I want to see you in a stupid rented tux and make out with you in front of Mr. Windu.” Luke giggled, then winced as it made his lip hurt. “And Han should be there with Leia so she can finally make him slow dance.” Din’s hands wandered into Luke’s hair as he dragged him closer.

“Han dances like a penguin,” Luke sighed. He slowly rested his forehead onto Din’s. “He’s got two left feet.”

“Even better.” Din carefully kissed the side of Luke’s mouth, careful to avoid his cut.

“Promise me you won’t do something stupid,” Luke pleaded. “We can wait until I graduate and then we can both leave this trash town.”

Instead of answering, Din pulled Luke into his arms and held him close. He looked up and saw Leia return to the living room. He locked eyes with her and nodded.

“I won’t let them hurt you anymore.”

#this is also a role reversal fic kinda sorta #Let Din be the cool kid for once #Leia the jazz band clarinet player is dedicated to Sadie #Nerd Leia is life #spoilers: in the end Luke and Din do go to homecoming together and Anakin gets his head out of his ass #I never went to homecoming or any shit like that so I aint writing it #I was a theater kid and I went to see one of the prequels after prom thats how cool I was #sbficlets #din/luke

24 notes · View notes

sleephyjhs · 4 years

Text

Asking to Touch Them (REACTION)

notes: all members are included below the ‘read more’ link. also namjoon’s is more fluff than i can handle so be prepared. thank me for tae’s gif later

rules | m.list | requested

KSJ

Despite your partner being a sucker for skinship, you always hated initiating it. You loved to cuddle and touch him as much as he loved to return it, but his personal space was something you’d always been more aware of.

You’d seen first hand in airports and in public how fans and employees tried so desperately to grab a hold of his arm or his luggage, and how uncomfortable it was for Seokjin when they managed to succeed. The last thing you wanted to do was startle him or panic him.

Sitting so far from Seokjin while watching a movie together just felt so foreign. All you wanted to do was cling to him for added comfort, and as much as he’d most likely want you to do that, you still had a lingering restraint that stopped you. It had been almost two years since you began dating, and it burdened you that you were still unable to initiate skinship.

“Can I get.. closer? Is that okay?” You asked, rotating your neck to look him in the eye. Jin’s eyebrows creased between his eyes as he look at you confused.

“Of course? Why do you always ask me?” He questioned as you shuffled over cushions to get closer. It was a wonder Seokjin had never asked before that. Despite you had your reasoning for always asking, you had dreaded the day you’d have to explain. Really, you knew it was perhaps a silly question to ask you partner all the time

“Just in case you want personal space. I don’t know, sometimes I just think you’d rather not be touched and messed with.” Your answer was more of a mumble, but the soon tilt of his head in dismay told you that he’d heard.

“Personal space doesn’t apply to you, baby. I want you to be comfortable around me. If you want to lay on me, I’m all yours.” Seokjin smiles as you pressed your face against his shoulder. He leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead that nibbled away at your concerns.

MYG

Some of the most difficult times for you were watching as your boyfriend rested at home in agony. Performing and rehearsing as much as he did was bound to leave him with injuries here and there, but it had been a while since he was hurt like this.

The muscles in his back had become ceased up suddenly. Medics hired by the company could only recommend rest as there was nothing else they were able to do. Thankfully, your capability to work from home meant Yoongi wouldn’t have to overexert himself to look after himself.

When you entered your apartment carrying bags of groceries for the week, you were surprised by your partner sat upright at the dining table, “Honey, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to keep mobile,” Yoongi grimaced as he answered your question. Anybody would have been able to see he was in pain, “I’m alright.”

“Yeah, and you’re a crap liar. Really, you should rest before moving a lot. It’ll only get worse,” You knew well that he was already aware of this.Considering how many times he’d been in this predicament, you would’ve hoped that he’d just resume to medical advice by now, “Please Yoongi, I can see you’re in pain.”

For the first time since you’d walked into the apartment, he made eye conact with you. As a fan of using pet names, it was rare for you to address him by his actual name. However it allowed him to understand you were serious and maybe he should be too. Yoongi nodded, having considered your advice “You’ll have to help me though. It took me at least 10 minutes just to get here.”

You left the bags in the kitchen island and maneuvered towards the table. Yoongi curled his left arm around your shoulders and you slipped your arm across the middle of his back, “Is that okay?”

“Is what okay?”

“My hand being here... I just don’t want to hurt you more.” You began to guide Yoongi through to the bedroom, matching your pace to his careful stepping towards the door.

“You’re just fine, baby. I apprecate it.”

JHS

“Come here, angel,” Hoseok smirked, grabbing a hold of your hand and tugging you onto his lap. The evenings where he was in this kind of mood always turned out to be the best, “It’s been a long day.”

You placed your knees either side of his hips and sat back onto his legs, taking time to admire him, “I’m sure it has.” You smiled as he reached to fumble with the hem of your shirt. His delicacy when teasing you only made him more enticing.

“This is what you do to me when you leave for so long, you know that?” He asked, leaning into you to join his lips to yours. The gentle brush of his plushy lips against yours only pricked your infatuation with him. Hoseok’s ability to create sensual tension was overwhelming at least, but tonight he was just plainly driving you crazy.

“It was only a few hours,” you giggled, clasping your hands around his neck and pulling yourself closer to his torso. As you divulged into his irresistable kisses, a small alarm began to sound in your mind, “Do you mind this?”

“Mind what?”

“My hands being here,” you cleared. As an idol you were aware of how many times a day Hoseok had his personal space invaded and how much he truly hated it. Although he didn’t seem to mind it, causing him any discomfort was the last thing you intended to do, “I can move them if you like.”

Hoseok brushed a strand of fallen hair back behind your ear and thumbed the pivot of your jaw, “You’re perfect where you are. If ou wanted to get even closer, I wouldn’t mind.”

KNJ

It went without saying that your husband, Namjoon, was one of the hardest-working people you knew, and you had grown to learn that when he was in the zone and focused on his song-writing, it was best to just leave him to it. You had to time your snuggle attacks just right; you’d figured that your golden time was when he emerged to refill of caffeine.

Sooner than you expected, you heard the whirring of the coffee machine as it poured another coffee mixture into Namjoon’s used mug, “How’s it going?” You asked, sneaking into the kitchen and leaning against the counter.

“I’ll only be another half hour at most. Any longer and I’ll burn out.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes gently with his index knuckles. As much as Namjoon was a hard worker, many times he worked too much. It was only his determination to do well, but sometimes he struggled to know when to stop.

“Please don’t overwork yourself, honey,” you began as you stepped forward to reach your arms around his waist. Your head fell between his shoulder blades; hugging Joon from behind was often the best way, “Do you mind?”

“Hmm?” Perhaps you were too aware of his state of mind. He never usually minded when you went in for a bear hug, but for some reason you felt compelled to just make sure.

“Do you mind when I hug you like this? I don’t want to distract you or keep you from your work.”

Before you’d finished your explanation, Namjoon turned in your arms so your head laid across his chest. Without missing a beat, he slung his arms over your shoulders and crossed his hands to keep you close to him, “Of course I don’t mind. If anything, I’d love for you to do it more. I’m all yours, lovely.”

PJM

Jimin often went out of his way to make memorable moments to share with you. Even if some locations you had to visit more than a few times due to his tight schedules, the setting never undermined the thoughts of his actions. A certain park in Seoul often hosted late night walks; the midnight darkness was able to veil the eyes of the public ,giving you the privacy that was so rare to find.

“It’s kinda strange how cherry blossoms are still so pretty in the dark,”Jimin looked down with adoration at your face as you charted your observations, “not quite the same though.”

Jimin paused in his smile and sighed gently, but enough for you to notice, “I’ll bring you here in daylight soon, I promise. It’s just difficult to find time-”

“I know, Jiminie. I’m only playing with you.” Swiftly, you glaced at the floor to locate his hand, which was curled inside his pocket. Without it crossing your mind, you reached into his pocket and threaded your fingered in between his. Jimin tightened his hand around yours, but remained silent giving you time to question your actions, “You don’t mind, do you?”

“What? Holding your hand?” You nodded, notably changing your walking pace to keep up with him. Inside his pocket, he began to caress the back of your hand with his thumb, tellng yo already that it was no problem to him, “I was waiting for you to reach in, actually. My pocket isn’t too good at keeping one hand warm.”

KTH

Waking up beside Taehyung never felt real. The morning sunshine poured delicately over his soft features, highlighting his sculpted face that he watched you so adoringly with. When your eyes began to flutter in the bright lights of dawn, it was refreshing to be greeted by his meek eyes hidden behind fallen strands of curled hair.

“Morning, angel.” He smiled as his voice cracked, “Did you sleep okay?”

“Perfect.” You smiled back letting a small yawn escape from your lips. Taehyung chuckled to himself and rolled onto his back before scooting closer to where you laid. He raised his left arm and replaced it at the peak of your pillows, seemingly inviting you into his embrace.

Taking notice of his actions, you quickly readjusted to place yourself in his arms. His bare chest against your loose hair tickled your earlobe, causing you to nestle into his warmth. You took the time to look up at Taehyung and study his face. He might have thought he was slick, but you caught him changing his smile into a straight face, “Something wrong? I can move if you want...”

Without letting Tae answer you, you already began to remove yourself from his chest and back to the imprinted figure you’d left on the memory foam mattress. Barring you from rolling back any further was his outstreched arm, lightly pushing you back onto him.

“Nothing’s wrong, baby.” he reassured you, using his free hand to fondle and smooth over your hair, “Let’s stay here for a while, yeah?”

JJK

Usually, you wouldn’t accompany Jungkook at the airport. For your own privacy and protection, he generally discouraged you tagging along. However this occasion was different; the group was returning from the last stop of their overseas’ tour which you also had embarked on to visit family. There was every opportunity for you to leave the plane and get into a car before Jungkook and the boys, but he wasn’t about to let you risk your safety like that.

Behind the frosted screen doors, you could see all the flashing bulbs of gathered press and media. Already, it was beginning to taunt you, “There’s more than usual.” Jungkook mumbled, dodging to the side of a manager to get a better glimpse of the bursting lights. Surprisingly, his comment didn’t help an awful lot.

You exhaled deeply, catching his attention “You’re gonna be okay. Just stay by my side, it’s not as far to the door as it seems.” His words were well received, but your panic had already begun to settle. As he continued to watch past staff members, you took the chance to reach out for his hand.

“Do you mind? I’m just scared, that’s all.” You asked Jungkook, side stepping to be closer to his side. You couldn’t have felt any safer by his side.

“Of course not,” he beamed, wrapping his fingers tightly around yours and carefully swinging your conjoined fist back and forth, “I’m keeping you safe, okay?”

^ i’m so sorry about how long this took, for a while it really stumped me but thank you for requesting! this might be my most favouritereaction so far <3

957 notes · View notes

d0llhousess · 3 years

Text

⇢ fandom: run with the wind (kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru) ⇢ pairing: kiyose haiji x f!reader ⇢ genre: fluff ⇢ warning/tags: fluff, overworked!haiji, overworked! reader, mild language (probably like..one cuss word), first date, established relationship, two busy idiots in love

⇢ summary: kiyose haiji is a planner, yet he could never plan around the mishaps that always seemed to happen every time the pair of you would agree to a date night.

⇢ word count: approx 1.6k

⇢ a/n: Welcome to Day 1 guys! I decided our favorite runner was the perfect way to kick off the week, and who doesn’t love Haiji fluff? Technically this is a continuation of this scenario, but it can be read without any knowledge of that post. I hope you guys do enjoy this!

⤆ Back to Week of Fic’s Masterlist

Sometimes life tends to escape you.

It wasn’t rare that you lost track of time, or became so busy with not only school but also your part time job that you were late to events or even forgot them all together. Yet, you made sure to not forget your first date with Kiyose.

It’d been weeks since he’d confessed to you, a moment you held close to your heart, and even though the two of you knew the status of your relationship, there was just no time for the pair of you to have a proper first date.

He was the team parent, often overworking himself to near death by taking care of his friends and teammates, and you were in your busiest year of university. So when he texted you in the early morning of one of your few days off, informing you to come to his dorms in casual clothing during the evening, you made sure that you were on time.

Adorned in your favorite pair of jeans that never failed to boost your confidence up another notch, you’d entered the track team dorms and were met with a site that you were certainly not expecting.

Instead of seeing your boyfriend in the foyer of the building, putting on his outside shoes, your sight was filled with a nearly chaotic dorm as most of the boys nearly burst down the only bathroom in the building. Your brows lift in surprise, but before your lips part to ask what on earth was going on, your boyfriend appears at your side.

Your eyes roam over his disheveled appearance, and when you met his forlorn gaze, you knew that your date had been canceled. You tried to not let the disappointment show on your face, yet you couldn’t help the way your shoulders sagged.

“I’m sorry, but-” Kiyose began to say, but you shook your head, halting the words that were tumbling out of his mouth. A soft smile spread onto your lips and you give him a knowing look.

“Stomach bug?” You guessed, hands smoothing a stray strand of your hair behind your ears.

Kiyose shook his head, “Food poisoning. The twins attempted to cook.”

Soft laughter falls from your lips and you nod, understanding the slight severity of the situation. You meet Kiyose’s warm gaze once again, noticing the slight irritation in his dark gaze, and it puts you at slight ease.

He was just as upset as you were, but you knew that he felt an obligation to take care of his friends. While you didn’t completely understand the man that stood beside you, you knew what you were getting yourself into the moment you felt his lips press against yours that evening in the park.

Stepping closer to you, Kiyose’s lean fingers trailed up the side of your bicep before the rested on the back of your neck. Your senses are filled with the comforting scent of his cologne, and the smirk he’s giving you causes your mouth to dry. The effect he had on you was truly unfair.

A slight shiver travels up your spine, and you watch as his lips spread into the soft smile that made your heart stutter in your chest. His lips brush against your cheek, causing a soft giggle to leave your lips.

“Rain check?” He whispers to you, and you nod, your smile mirroring his. Lifting your head, you place a chaste peck against his lips.

“This is the only rain check you get, okay?” You whisper back to him, resting your hands on his chest as you push him away slightly, yet he doesn’t budge. His previously playful gaze shifts into something more serious.

The wicked glint that never seemed to leave his warm chocolate eyes is more pronounced as the light grip he had on the back of your neck tightens, prompting you to lift your head up even further.

Lowering his head, his lips ghosts over yours, and you inhale sharply. His eyes briefly flicker away from your eyes to your lips, and your body nearly vibrates in anticipation. Yet before he can press his lips against yours, a loud bang is heard coming from the kitchen. A heavy sigh leaves both you and Kiyose’s lips as he steps away from you. Your time with him has come to an end and he is unfortunately needed elsewhere.

“I gotta…” He trailed off, and you nod in understanding.

“Yeah, I understand,” You responded, a light grin tugging on your lips to assure him that you were not upset. You noticed the way he lingered, and you felt your chest warm. He didn’t want to leave your presence, but he was needed elsewhere.

With much reluctance, he places another soft peck against your cheek, bidding you a soft goodbye that has the sense of disappointment settling over your heart once again. Yet you shake it off. It was just a mere rain check; you were absolutely sure that you and Kiyose would have time to go on your first date soon.

Unfortunately, time appeared to not be on your side.

The next couple of weeks you were swamped with work and Kiyose wasn’t fairing well either. It seemed like every time the two of you would align your free days together, a new problem arose. If it wasn’t your boss calling to ask you to come in on your day off, it was Kiyose becoming caught up with the track team and helping them progress.

Even when he’d managed to escape the busy lifestyle of taking care of everyone in his life, you were too busy trying to complete a mountain of assignments to give him the attention that he and you craved.

Sure the two of you messaged each other throughout the day, and you heard his melodic voice through the speakers of your phone late at night; hell there were even days where you had dinner with him and his teammates. Yet, it just wasn’t the same as spending proper alone time with him. You craved to spend a day with just Kiyose, and Kiyose only, but with the way everything was panning out you’d be lucky to get a date by the end of the semester.

You couldn’t help the sense of dismay that clouded your mind, because, fuck, all you wanted to do was spend a nice evening with your boyfriend. Yet, the both of you couldn’t even manage to find the time to be together.

“Was your relationship doomed before it even truly began?” You wondered to yourself as you entered your small apartment, sighing from a rather long shift at your part time job. You briefly glanced at your phone, noticing a message from the very man that never seemed to stray away from your mind.

Opening the message, your brows shot up in slight surprise as you read over the message inviting you over to his dorms. Shooting a quick message stating that you would be over in around thirty minutes, you began to discard your work uniform. You shot through a swift routine of showering, changing your clothes into something that was appropriate for having a late dinner with your boyfriend and his friends.

Even with your quick change of clothes, it didn’t take you long to arrive at the track team’s dorms. As you entered the building, you noticed how eerily quiet it was. The laughter that you were accustomed to didn’t greet you, and your brows furrowed in slight confusion. As you took your shoes off, you allowed yourself to peek down the hallway, keeping an ear out to see if the guys were just still in their rooms, freshening up for dinner.

“Haiji?” You called out, as you placed your shoes near the door, walking down the hallway.

“In the kitchen,” You heard him respond and as you rounded the corner, your eyes landed to the singular candle that was lit on top of the table, illuminating the dinner for two.

Your eyes flickered from the twinkling candle light, before they settled on Kiyose who was exiting the kitchen. The previously confused expression on your face melts into one of pure warmth as your eyes lock with Kiyose’s gaze.

“Did the twins cook again?” You tease as you sink to the ground, eyes shifting from his gentle, yet penetrating gaze, to the food that was neatly arranged on the table. Kiyose’s melodic laughter fills your ears, and you can feel your body practically melting. You hear him sit beside you, prompting your eyes to move from the food back to his smiling face.

“No,” He answered, “I can’t have you breaking up with me just yet.”

Your brows raise as a giggle leaves your lips, “Oh? Is that so?”

Kiyose nods his head, his own chuckles leaving his lips. Once your laughter subsides, you lick your lips as you look over the room, once again noting the lack of extra noise in the dorms.

“So I suppose no one else will be joining us, hm?” You questioned, turning to look back at your boyfriend. You note how the gleam in his rich brown eyes seem to twinkle in the warm candlelight. He leans into you, lips spreading from his usual smile into something much softer; a smile he only seems to give you.

“I might’ve convinced them to go out for a couple of hours or so.”

Another burst of giggles leave your lips as you mimic his actions, “Convinced or ordered?”

Kiyose holds your gaze, fingers smoothing up the length of your arm before cupping the back of your neck. His thumb grazes your jawline as you relax into his touch. You watch as his eyelids lower as his gaze shifts to your lips.

“Does it matter?” He whispers to you, and your lips part to respond. However, before a syllable is uttered, his lips pressed softly against yours. As your eyelids fluttered closed, you found yourself agreeing that it didn’t matter at all.

#run with the wind x reader #run with the wind #Kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru #kiyose haiji #kiyose haiji x reader #oneshot #nghts week of fics

78 notes · View notes

leopard-mask · 3 years

Text

we’re not alone

Dovewing and Jayfeather confront Lionblaze about not being the saviors anymore. Set in the midst of Darkness Within.

“Lionblaze.”

Lionblaze, who’d been rising stiffly from the roots of the great oak to dutifully follow Squirrelflight at the head of their patrol, glanced irritably at the gray she-cat at his side. Dovewing’s green eyes were round and dark with worry—he hated that he could still recognize that expression in her.

“What?” he didn’t even make an attempt to soften his voice. “Tigerstar must be waiting for you. If you’ve got something to say, spit it out.”

Dovewing’s fur ruffled and her gaze flashed with annoyance. “I always thought Jayfeather was the rude one, not you.”

“What about me?” When had Jayfeather sidled up to them? Lionblaze lashed his tail impatiently. He should already be at Squirrelflight’s side, reinforcing his authority among the rest of the Clan who thought he was unworthy of the position.

“Hi, Dovewing,” Jayfeather continued conversationally, as if the entire state of literally everything wasn’t on the line right now. Which only solidified the resentment Lionblaze had been feeling towards his brother recently.

Lionblaze thought back on the events of the impromptu gathering. Rootspring’s patrol had left a few days ago to find the Sisters, so there was nothing new to speak of. The meeting had just consisted of everyone arguing about what to do about Bramblestar’s body—more so, Lionblaze trying to rally everyone in support of just killing Ashfur now to be done with it. Really, of all cats Lionblaze had thought Jayfeather would understand the importance of killing Ashfur. He was a medicine cat, his priorities should be centered around nothing but bringing StarClan back right now, no matter the cost. Not just that, but both his and Lionblaze’s world had been shattered twice by Ashfur. Once when the secret had been revealed, and the second time with Hollyleaf…

And yet Jayfeather had said nothing when Lionblaze had argued with Squirrelflight at the gathering just now.

And Dovewing…

“Hi, Jayfeather.”

Lionblaze shifted impatiently. “What is this, a reunion? The gathering is over. If you wanted to talk to us, you should’ve done so before the meeting.” Or maybe any other time, before all of this was even a problem. It had been moons since Dovewing had approached either of them. Why was she suddenly interested in talking?

Dovewing rolled her eyes. “Are you in such a rush to go home?” she flicked her tail in Squirrelflight’s direction, who was exchanging heated words with Tigerstar while Alderheart and Puddleshine paced anxiously nearby. Even Leafstar and her warriors were still lingering; the SkyClan leader hanging back politely but obviously eavesdropping on the argument. “It looks like we might have a bit yet.”

Lionblaze scowled. “I’m the deputy now. If there’s a problem over there, I better go see—”

“Squirrelflight can handle herself,” Jayfeather interrupted firmly. “Besides, I’m not sure she would want your help right now, anyway.”

Lionblaze narrowed his eyes. “What? Because I’m willing to admit Bramblestar isn’t coming back? She needs to understand that her actions are—”

“Would you stop being so antagonistic,” Dovewing scolded. “Just listen to us for a moment.”

Lionblaze dug his claws into the earth, willing StarClan (or what was left of it) give him the patience to finish this conversation. “And why should I listen to you? You’re not taking this seriously,” he gestured accusatorily at his brother. Even though Jayfeather was blind, Lionblaze trusted he could sense the harsh words were for him. He turned to Dovewing. “And you’re a traitor.”

Dovewing reeled back as if his words had physically clawed her. Lionblaze didn’t even have it in him to feel bad. “Lionblaze,” she hissed, though her voice trembled and died before she could say anything more.

Good, Lionblaze thought savagely.

Jayfeather blinked, aggravatingly calm in the face of Lionblaze’s fury. “Have you thought that it’s possible you’re the one being unreasonable?”

“I’m—”

Jayfeather continued, ignoring Lionblaze’s cry of outrage. “Ever since we found out who’s been possessing Bramblestar, you’ve been impossible to be around.” His whiskers twitched disapprovingly. “If you were anyone else, I might’ve assumed it was because you were overworking yourself as acting deputy, but it’s you, so.” He shrugged. “You could never really overwork yourself, could you?”

Lionblaze let out a hiss. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Dovewing blinked hard, her eyes refocusing on her former mentor. “I know this is a serious situation,” her voice was soft. “But we need to come together more than we need to be driven apart. Fighting with everyone isn’t the right thing to do. Not right now.”

“What do you know?” Lionblaze scoffed. “Ashfur was dead before you were even born. You’ve never even met him. I’m the one being sensible—”

Jayfeather snorted. “Lionblaze, I’m saying this in the kindest way possible. Between me and you, you are not the sensible one.”

“I—”

“I know Ashfur upsets you personally,” Jayfeather interrupted once again. “You don’t think I’m upset about this too?”

“You’re upset about everything all the time,” Lionblaze pointed out.

Jayfeather rolled his eyes but did not deny the statement.

Dovewing sighed. “It’s just… You’re the deputy for now, you should be making sure there is as little conflict as possible. Maybe try to have a little more compassion for Squirrelflight and the rest of us who think killing Bramblestar isn’t the right thing to do. No more bullying either,” she added reproachfully. “You don’t want to start down the path of hurting others in your own anger and arrogance.”

Start down that path? Lionblaze flicked his tail and turned away. He’d been hurting cats in his anger since he was an apprentice. That was his prophecy-given power, for StarClan’s sake!

“I will not hesitate to restrict you to camp,” Jayfeather warned. Lionblaze tensed, but Jayfeather continued. “Which I can do, by the way.” He shifted, resting his tail on Dovewing’s shoulder. “Dovewing’s right. Things are rough right now, but it won’t do anything to intentionally divide the Clan the way you’ve been doing lately.”

“We don’t have our powers anymore,” Dovewing said quietly. “We are no more in control of the situation than anyone else.” The words churned in Lionblaze’s stomach. They were once prophesized to save the Clans, but their powers had faded after what had seemed like the final huge threat had passed. It was hard to acknowledge that he was just as powerless as everyone else in the face of this new/old monster.

“We should work harder to make up for it, then,” Lionblaze argued gruffly. He was sure that was one of the main reasons Squirrelflight had chosen him for deputy—he’d helped save them before, and surely she expected him to play a part in doing so again. Surely everyone was looking up to them for guidance. Couldn’t Dovewing and Jayfeather see that?

Dovewing stepped closer and forced him to hold her gaze. “This isn’t our fight alone, and no one expects it to be. And that’s what we wanted, right? We would’ve been grateful for this all those moons ago. We’ll get through this by working together. All of us.”

Lionblaze finally let the tension in his shoulders drop. He slumped miserably into himself, staring down at the grass. “What if we don’t? We can’t let Ashfur win this time, not after everything we’ve sacrificed to bring him down in the first place.”

“It’s not in our paws,” Jayfeather said simply. “We’ll wait for the Sisters, and then we’ll all decide what to do. In the meantime, we just get through each day at a time.”

Dovewing dipped her head. “I won’t say it’s okay, because it isn’t. But from now on we do better, right?”

Lionblaze sighed. “You’re right,” he admitted grudgingly. He glanced awkwardly at Dovewing. “I’m sorry I called you a traitor.”

Lionblaze nodded decisively. “Right.”

“And apologize to Squirrelflight,” Jayfeather added.

“…Right,” Lionblaze reluctantly agreed. He did feel bad for hurting his foster mother in the way that he had. An apology would be the least he could offer to smooth things over.

This isn’t our fight—this isn’t my fight. We’re not alone in this. If he was honest with himself, the thought was almost liberating. We’re not alone.

#darkness within #warriors #warrior cats #lionblaze #jayfeather #dovewing #i posted this on ao3 #please tell me what you think #i live for feedback #update- one of the paragraphs was out of order landjcjdksks

67 notes · View notes

thetriggeredhappy · 5 years

Note

trucks & vans 47 and/or 62 ?

hurt/comfort time with these two nerds. buckle in for some hurt. (warnings, i’m serious, this is heavy angst. warnings for symptoms of various mental health issues, self-destructive behavior, self-harm, and some somewhat sloppy comfort.)

47.) “I can take care of myself just fine.”

62.) “Please shut up. Just shut up.”

The Engineer was a man who solved problems in a way that was both practical and efficient. Medic was overworked and reaching his breaking point on the field when minor injuries apparently called for full health kits, teammates therefore leaving him to die, so Engie prototyped the dispenser. Heavy expressed frustration over having to run laboriously across the whole battlefield only to be left to die in thirty seconds once he got to the point, so Engie broke the seal on more of his grandfather’s designs and made teleporters. When carpal tunnel struck and he failed to give it proper rest, eventually making his writing hand all but useless, he replaced it with a mechanical one that wouldn’t betray him, parts replaceable just in case it did.

People were trickier. Issues residing in the category of “emotions” were much more nuanced, much more difficult to sift through for answers. Nobody—not even the Medic—could blueprint the human mind, after all. (That wasn’t to say Engie didn’t try.)

Frankly, he didn’t know how to help Sniper. He just didn’t. But he tried to do what he could, what Sniper would tolerate.

Most of the time, that involved setting aside a plate for Sniper at dinner, wrapping it in foil when the man didn’t turn up. Making a full pot of coffee in the morning and leaving it out for Sniper to pick up when he finally showed up in the base. Idly offering to do some work on his van when he could hear it struggling to sputter to life, offering him one of his own beers from the cooler he brought over when he went to do the work. It involved leaving invitations, giving Sniper opportunities to visit with him, to see him, to be near each other, but never, ever forcing him.

And then break came, and on the first night, when everyone had long cleared out, he saw Sniper’s van still parked where it always was, lights on.

He made enough dinner for both of them, wrapping it and putting it in the fridge. He made the extra half-pot of coffee. The plates remained untouched. The coffee went cold. The light stayed on, and never once, in all the time Engie spent working in the garage, in full view in case Sniper wanted to walk over and maybe snatch up one of Engie’s beers, did he see the man leave the camper.

Day three, it was something lingering in his mind. Day four, it was starting to get a bit worrying. Day five, he couldn’t help but glance over fairly often. Day six, he was filled with outright concern, and finally cracked on the seventh, went over to the van, knocked on the door.

Engie was a polite man, but an honest one too, and so he wouldn’t be afraid to say that Sniper looked like absolute hell. His hair, usually slicked back with gel to keep out of his face, hung scraggly around his jaw, which was coated in an uneven layer of stubble. He had dark circles like bruises, eyes bloodshot, and a pale pallor to his skin.

“What?” he asked in a horribly hoarse voice, and it was suddenly apparent that Sniper hadn’t spoken a single word in at least a week, and Engie felt a pang in his chest.

“Just came out to check up on you, Slim,” Engie said. He glanced Sniper over again, and that nickname rang uncomfortably true. The way his shirt hung on him almost seemed… “You haven’t been in the kitchen. I wondered if… if you’ve been eating.”

Sniper shrugged casually in a way that didn’t at all answer the question.

“…Why don’t we head out and get ourselves a meal?” Engie asked, keeping his tone bright, positive. “Dinner, somewhere that serves nothin’ that don’t come with a bucket’s worth of grease. My treat.”

Sniper shrugged again, not meeting his gaze. “Sorry, Truckie. Don’t think I’ll make good company just now. Awful tired. Raincheck, maybe,” he mumbled, voice awfully rough, almost pained.

Engie was eyeing Sniper’s shirt. It seemed wrinkled, and sat almost awkwardly. As if it had been hastily donned. The buttons were misaligned. Sniper held himself awkwardly.

“What were you doing before I came over here, Slim?” Engie asked, voice level, keeping his expression neutral, already almost positive that he knew.

“Nothing,” Sniper said.

Engie just looked at him.

“Raincheck,” Sniper repeated, moving to close the door.

Engie shoved his boot in the door before he could do so, expression hardening at the light, almost imperceptible wince Sniper had made when he’d moved his arm. “Slim, you can make this an awful lot easier on yourself if you just let me in so we can talk,” he said, tone low.

Sniper looked at him for a few seconds. A few more. Finally he exhaled, hung his head, and took a step back to allow Engie entry.

The door closed behind him, Engie leaned against it, arms crossed, regarding Sniper, expression stone cold. “Show me,” he said simply.

Sniper fidgeted with his cuffs. “Show you what?” he asked, a last-ditch attempt.

“What you’ve done. Show me,” Engie said, not giving Sniper even an inch.

Sniper seemed to realize he was cornered, but hesitated regardless. “You’ll be mad,” he tried.

“I’m already mad. I’ll be less mad if you show me,” Engie replied evenly.

Sniper’s hand went to one of the buttons on his shirt carefully, and he set about undoing them.

His undershirt was exposed, a simple white tank, and then Sniper stopped again for a few seconds. He wouldn’t meet Engie’s eye. Already Engie felt concern eating a hole into his stomach at how thin Sniper seemed to have gotten in such a short amount of time.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Engie’s expression faltered for a moment before he set his jaw again. “Just show me already,” he said firmly.

Sniper’s gaze locked on the floor, and he shrugged out of his shirt, and Engie felt his heart stop.

“Oh, Slim,” he breathed, a lump catching in his throat, and Sniper squeezed his eyes shut.

Sniper’s arms (his forearms in particular) were red and blotchy, skin irritated and inflamed, bright red trails scoring their way up and down the skin there. It was only as Sniper went to clutch at his arms, as if trying to hide, that Engie suddenly noticed the small amounts of blood there under Sniper’s nails, the light smears where he’d scratched at himself hard enough to bleed, places where clearly the wounds had started to scab only to be scratched away again.

He set his jaw, clenching it hard to fight back waves of upset. Sniper still wouldn’t look at him.

He moved to take Sniper by the shoulders, guiding him to sit at the little table. He went to dig through one of the cabinets, finding a first aid kit without much issue.

“When’d you do this?” Engie asked sharply, starting to unzip it and sift through the contents.

Sniper hesitated for a moment. “A bit yesterday, day before. A bit just before you showed up,” he replied with a nervousness that admitted honesty.

“Arms out,” Engie said next, ripping open a pad and drawing the alcohol wipe from it.

Sniper clutched his arms towards himself. “I can take care of myself just fine,” he said firmly.

Engie gave him a glare hard enough that Sniper only surrendered after a moment, holding out one of his arms.

He bit back sounds of pain, head tipped low to try and hide the way he was flinching with each swipe. Engie worked his way over the whole of Sniper’s forearm, then opened another packet for his biceps, which seemed like it’d been scratched at fewer times, but more severely.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, so terribly weak, so horribly fragile, the most stubborn and stoic man Engie knew reduced practically to tears, falling apart right in front of him.

“Please shut up. Just shut up,” Engie said, trying and failing to keep the frustration out of his tone. He started spooling gauze a bit loosely around Sniper’s forearms. He had to take a moment to compose himself. “Damn it Slim, how’d you let it get this bad? My doors have been open. They’ve been open this whole time.”

“I’m sorry,” Sniper said again, quieter now.

Engie didn’t reply to that, just tying off the gauze tightly and moving to make another sleeve on Sniper’s bicep.

The process was repeated on Sniper’s other arm. “You never have told me why you do this,” Engie finally said, despite the part of him that didn’t want to know, scared that it might just make some kind of sense.

Sniper shook his head to himself. “I get… caught, in my own head,” he managed, voice choked. “Can’t think. Start feelin’… paranoid. Keep thinkin’ I hear someone behind me. That I see movement. That I…” He had to take a steadying breath. “That I feel something crawling on me. On my arms especially. And I just… I try and scratch it off, scratch the feeling away. And then all at once I look down and I’ve done this. It’s worse when there’s scabbing.”

Engie finished wrapping his arms, moving to use the wipes to try and carefully clean out from under Sniper’s nails. “Have you tried showering? Something besides scratching to feel clear?”

“I’ve tried showering, yeah. Keep turning the water up until it burns me. Not better,” Sniper mumbled towards his shoes.

Engie moved to pull a few band-aids from the kit, starting to slice along the sticky part, and to wrap the band-aids over Sniper’s fingertips snugly.

Sniper watched him doing so, and suddenly understood what he was doing, why he’d wrapped his arms in gauze like that, why he was putting soft material over his fingertips. He released a dry sob, hunching forward to bury his face in Engie’s shoulder as he worked, humiliated, upset, grief-stricken.

Halfway through his other hand, Sniper finally spoke. “I’m a fuckin’ lunatic, Truckie,” he choked out, breath shaky as he tried to repress tears.

“No, you’re not,” Engie answered calmly. “You’re just a man, a scared one. And that’s alright. The part that’s not alright is you locking yourself away and hurtin’ yourself.”

Engie finished wrapping him up to make sure he didn’t cause any further injury, and moved to hold him, carefully so as not to accidentally irritate his wounds further.

“I’m sorry I got so frustrated,” he finally apologized. “I just… I know it ain’t a very good excuse, but really. I hate knowin’ you’ve gone and hurt yourself because you’re still scared to talk to me. What do I gotta do to get you to talk to me next time things get this bad? What do you still need from me?”

“I dunno. I just—I dunno. I’m sorry,” he insisted, pushing in closer.

“I know,” Engie said, holding him, all too aware of how quickly Sniper could begin to break. “I know. It’s alright.”

#trucks & vans #trucks n vans #tf2 #team fortress 2 #shut up me #my fanfiction #my writing #its very late im very tired

79 notes · View notes

huntertales · 5 years

Text

Part Four: The Queen Saves Herself in This One. (LARP and the Real Girl S08E11)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader investigate the mysterious deaths of two LARPers who were engaged in a game involving an actual fairy. While digging deeper into the game, the boys discover the queen of Moondoor is a familiar face they met just a few short years ago, an I.T. woman named Charlie Bradbury. Word Count: 5,433. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Maybe it was your changing hormones, maybe it was your overworking imagination that was making you grow extremely antsy and bitchy. Time was starting to slip away from you now that it was dark outside when you and the boys, along with Boltar and the stupid shadow orc, traveled through the woods to find the shadow king to make your trade. Sam lingered behind in the small crowd with you, trying to reassure you that everything was going to be fine. You knew in the back of your mind that he was doing all he could to keep you from panicking. And while any other day you would have appreciated his help, you weren’t in the mood. You responded in the most mature way possible by rolling your eyes and scoffing his overly optimistic attitude that was starting to test your ever thinning nerves.

You had no idea do where Charlie could be. For all you knew she could be lying face down in a ditch. She could be dead. Worse, she was being tortured by whatever thing that was hurting and killing off players. Or...she could have simply been playing the game and these shadow orcs knew where she was.

Sam’s idea to try and make you stop from ripping through the woods and making yourself so stressed out. You threw him a dirty look, the kind to tell him to shut up if he knew what was good for him. Sam knew mood swings were a symptom of pregnancy. It was one of the red flags that got him thinking there was something going on with you. You were only eight weeks into this, making him slightly fearful how you were going to be when you got farther along.

"I swear, if anything happened to her..." You whispered to yourself. Your lips stretched into a frown as you roughly shoved a branch out of your way, only you did it with so much force, you broke it off the tree and let it fall to the ground. You deliberately stomped on the wood, letting your weight break it in half. Sam almost rarely saw you so worked up like this. The times that he did see you looking like you were ready to tear someone's throat out was when someone you cared about was in trouble.

“Y/N, we checked all the tents. We'll talk to these guys. We'll find her.” Sam reassured you once again. You turned your head to give him yet another annoyed glare from his calming words. He noticed that Dean was walking a few feet ahead of you, giving the both of you a bit of privacy to talk freely about something he didn’t know about just yet. “You can’t stress yourself out like this. I’m sure she’s fine. Just relax.”

“Word of advice for the future Sammy, don’t tell a very hormonal pregnant woman to relax.” You nearly hissed out at him. Sam raised his hands slightly to show you that he was doing this to try and make you feel better. You forced yourself to inhale a deep breath to try and calm down. “I’ll be fine when we know Charlie is okay. I should have went with her back to camp. All of this could’ve been avoided.”

You could have walked back with her or not, but you knew it probably wouldn't have changed much of anything. Maybe getting yourself in the same kind of danger she had. All of you stopped in the middle of the woods when you spotted a clearing, giving you some space for the prisoner exchange. The orc did what he was supposed to for his freedom, calling out to his fellow fictional species by using the special call they made up. Your face scrunched up slightly in confusion when you heard him starting to made a cawing sound. A few seconds later you heard an echoing noise come through the other side of the forest.

Three men stepped out from behind the trees, all of them dressed in black. You spotted the familiar tree of pain printed in the front and center of the king's outfit. “Greetings, heretics.”

You crossed your arms over your chest when the shadow king attempted to be powerful and almighty when he dramatically threw back his cape and attempted to speak in a gravely tone of voice. But it was barely possible to understand him from the horrible fake teeth he was wearing. "You should kneel before me, cur."

“All right, why don’t you let me—” Dean attempted to do his part by taking control of the situation, but he was quickly cut off by Boltar before he could let out another word. The older man almost forgot he was a simple handmaiden and had no voice in this very serious exchange, let alone, a voice for politics he wouldn’t understand.

“Silence! Now, before we exchange, a few announcements.” Boltar cut off the older man. He leaned forward slightly as the king knew that it was talk of taking a quick break to become their real selves. The shadow king took out his teeth and took a few steps forward to hear what Gerry needed to say. “Um, there is a peewee-league soccer playoff game tomorrow on the alpha field. We don't want to freak out the mundanes, so we got to move the Battle of Kingdoms to the beta field.”

“All right. That's it. You know what?” You muttered to yourself, going from beyond pissed to down right seeing red in your vision. “I'm gonna do this the old-fashioned way.”

“Y/N, don’t.” Sam warned you.

But you didn’t listen to him. Dean turned his head slightly when he heard Sam trying to stop you from doing something stupid. He had no idea what you were doing until he felt your hand slip into his pouch to grab something. Dean saw a flash of silver when the metal of his gun reflected in the light, making him realize you were about to do something drastic. Before anyone could stop you and Gerry told you there were rules that needed to be followed, you chose to ignore all of them. You were now standing in front of the men with a loaded gun pointed at the king.

“All right. I need real answers. This here is a real gun, see?” You demonstrated your fancy new toy that wouldn’t be invented for another couple hundred of years by shooting off a round. But instead of aiming it at the orcs, you warned them you weren’t fooling around when you shot it at the ground. The loud noise made the men jump a few inches in the air, making some kind of twisted satisfaction spread through you. Your lips stretched into a smirk asm the king threw his hands up in the air when you pointed the loaded gun in his direction. “Now, I suggest you start talking.”

“What is your problem, lady?!” The shadow king nearly yelled at you.

“Oh, you know. The usual. I have to pee. My feet hurt. These pants are too tight. I’m wasting my time talking to a grown man playing dress up.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “Now, I’m gonna tell you how this is gonna go. You have five seconds to tell me where the hell the queen is, or so help me God, something you cherish is gonna get blown off!”

"I don't know!" He said, you weren't falling for that little lie.

“Yeah, well,” You waved the gun slightly as you pointed it at the symbol on his outfit. “Your little family crest there tells us a different story, pal.”

"This? Uh, I got sick last month after this thing just appeared on my arm." The shadow king explained the origin . He pulled off one of his leather gloves as he pulled up his sleeve to show off the familiar symbol on his forearm. "I thought it looked really cool, so I turned it into my family crest. I mean, after my dermatologist said it wasn't malignant."

"Y/N, he's not our guy." Sam said. You lowered the gun as you rolled your eyes, knowing he was right. "He's just another vic."

"My name is Max Hilby. I'm an attorney. I have no idea where the queen is, but if you let me go right now, I won't press charges." Max said in the most calm voice he could use right now. You weren't really going to do anything to hurt him, but it was sort of satisfying to see him cower in fear. You narrowed your eyes slightly on him. "I promise."

You admitted your defeat when you were about ready to give the gun back to Dean, who was nothing more than pissed himself at what you did. Max tried to win you over by taking off his fake ears and handed them over to you, as if that was supposed to mean something. You gave him a baffled expression from why he would do such a thing. You didn't want his stupid ears. You told them to go. But he stared at you, unsure if that was really what you wanted. You rolled your eyes and waved your gun forward in the direction where they came from, yelling at them in a more louder and aggressive tone to get out. You let out a sigh as you watched the three men disappear into the woods.

You turned around in your spot to face the brothers and the two others who were part of the game. You gave them all a look when they were staring at you with a mixed expression of slight anger and fear. "What?" You asked them. Dean gave you an annoyed look at your drastic move, you mocked him. "What? Not like any of you were doing anything to move this show along."

"Is the queen really in danger?" The orc timidly asked after he took out his teeth to properly speak. You couldn’t help yourself by giving him a sarcastic look before nodding your head to answer his question. "Okay, look, I-I noticed something odd down by the creek. It's this weird tent. It's not one of ours. It's kind of creepy."

"Why are you being helpful all of a sudden?" Sam asked him.

“Look, I harbor an epic crush on the queen.” The orc admitted his reason why. You gave him a look of disbelief at his way of thinking that Charlie would ever be into someone like him. “Maybe you could put in a good word for me when you find her.”

"I hate to break it to you, dude,” You said. “but I don't think you're her type."

You walked forward to the brothers so you could finally hand back the gun you stole from Dean. He shoved it out of your hands and put it back where you got it from. As you followed behind the boys to continue on your search for Charlie, that orc was still in the dark about why he would never have a shot at the queen. "What? You mean she's not into orcs?"

You wanted to tell him the truth about why Charlie would never be interested in someone like him, but you didn't have time right now with her still missing. You were sure he'd get the picture when he caught the queen mingling around with one of the fellow lady friends she caught the eye of just earlier today. You and the boys focused on continuing your search through the woods to find the tent that the orc was talking about. This was the last tent you knew of that she could possibly be in. and if she wasn't in this one, you were back at square one.

“Why don’t you take off, Bolty? We got it from here.” You reassured the knight, knowing you were doing him more of a favor so he wouldn't get himself in any kind of danger.

"A handmaiden and a traveler rescue the queen? Not to mention, a knight who has 'hormonal' issues, I presume? And you must wonder why few women are given such power.” Boltar said with a slight chuckle. You felt your hand tightening to into a fist at his snarky tone of voice that made you want to make him regret those words. Before you could start swinging, Sam placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to get you to calm down. “I think not, kind lady.”

"Look, this isn't a game, Boltar. The queen, our friend, is in real danger." Sam warned the young man. "You could get hurt."

“I will not leave my queen in peril.” Boltar stated. You rolled your eyes, mumbling underneath your breath that it was his funeral if something happened to him. You walked a few more steps before he spotted a tent just across the way and pointed towards. "Look there."

"We haven't checked that tent." Dean said.

You and the boys headed to the tent to see if you might be able to find the missing red head that had been the reason why you were being so trigger happy. You stepped into the tent after the boys and looked around the place to see that it was almost like stepping into an actual room. The place was decked out with a fireplace and everything, along with candles and...a bed that a familiar face was occupying. You stopped in your tracks when you spotted Charlie herself, along with a woman you've never seen before...heavily making out.

You raised your brow slightly as your jaw opened up, as if you were about to say something. The woman you had spent the past few hours picturing in every kind of worse case scenario and hunting down all through the woods, even threatening people who had no clue what was going on, was actually perfectly fine. She was more than fine from the noises she was making. You crossed your arms over your chest as you cleared your throat, breaking her and who you could only guess was the fairy from their session. Charlie pulled away as she turned her head to see the brothers were staring at her with a slightly shocked expression while you narrowed your eyes slightly on her, wondering what the hell was going on here.

“Dudes.” Charlie muttered to you. “If the tent is rockin’, don’t come a-knockin’.”

You gave the woman a look, knowing the real reason why you were here in the first place was not to block her from getting some action, but because she'd been missing over the past few hours. And making out with the very thing that was causing all of this trouble. However the fairy wasn't here willingly, it seemed someone was pulling her strings, forcing her to do heinous things. Your eyes wandered away from Charlie and to her when she jumped out from the bed, fear creeping into her expression at the sight of a familiar face.

"No, it's him!" She exclaimed in a panicked tone. She clutched the bed post as she stared at someone standing behind you. "My master! Run!"

You turned around to see who was responsible for all of the accidents and two murders that were the reason why you came here in the first place. It was someone you had been interacting with all day, who you should have known was the problem all along. You watched as Boltar, who must have snuck into the tent when you weren't looking, lifted down his hood to reveal his face. You rolled his eyes at the flare for dramatics as the boys wasted no time in drawing out their guns before he could do something to try and hurt either one of you. But it seemed all of you were thinking too logically here. You needed to get your head in the game if you wanted to win.

“No guns in Moondoor, gentlemen.” Boltar reminded the boys. “Gilda, if you please?”

All Gilda needed to do was wave her hand for the weapons to disappear right in front of your very eyes. You watched as they burst into feathers, taking you slightly off guard. But you were admitting your defeat just yet. You could easily win in a fist fight with this little dweeb. Even if he did have a fairy working for him against her will. There were ways around this.

“Well, now what, Gerry?” Dean sarcastically asked the man.

"My name is Boltar the Furious!" He reminded the older Winchester of what his real name was when he lost his temper, shouting his name at the top of his lungs. You weren't the least bit scared. Hell, it was making you pissed off all over again. "My plan was, after getting rid of all of my competition, to win the battle tomorrow, convincing the queen that I should be her king. But then you three idiots showed up, and I was forced to improvise. Rescue the damsel in distress from orcs, become king, kill you three—that’ll work, too.”

"So why did you go from hobbling to murder?" Sam asked the man stuck in his own fantasy of the jump from a violent crime to ending someone's life. There was always a reason why. Maybe he wanted revenge, to get more power.

"Greyfox and Thargrim became part of the honor guard. They got close to the queen, but they did it by breaking the rules—paying off players with real money, rather than Moondoor currency." Boltar explained his reasons why that sounded logical in his head. But it only painted him more of a crazy person stuck in his own fantasy that he'd do anything to punish those who didn't follow the rules. "They were cheating."

“Oh, and using magic isn’t?” You wondered, thinking there was a lap of judgement in his thinking process.

"Magic is part of Moondoor." Boltar reminded you. It was as if that alone justified what he did to all those poor people and dragged something powerful into this to get what he wanted. Because it was part of the game that he wanted to live in and make his own reality.

“What is your problem? Why would you hurt people?” Charlie couldn’t help herself but ask him. She was taken back herself at how dramatic and terrible of a human being she was discovering the man she once called a friend and a fellow player. “This is just a game.”

"There is no game! There is only Moondoor!" Boltar screamed on the very top of his lungs, losing control of himself when all of you tried to talk him out of the reality he wanted to live in. "I came here to be different, to get away from my crappy life, to be a hero, and guess what."

"What, you were a loser in the real world, and you're a loser here?" You guessed. Your lips stretched into a smirk when you got a chance to try and knock him down a peg. "Shocker."

“Would a loser track down a real book of spells and compel a fairy to do his bidding?” Boltar asked you. You weren’t the least bit impressed at what he managed to do. It only fueled your desire to beat the crap out of him and put an end to this mess.

“It depends.” Sam said. “How’d you get it?”

Boltar fell silent for a moment as he found himself growing slightly awkward for the answer that didn’t sound as cool like he wanted. "eBay."

"Look, it doesn't have to be like this, Boltar." Sam, always the one at trying to be the voice of reason, attempted to for Boltar to see that things might be able to end not so painful for him if he cooperated. "Just hand over the book of spells. We can work this out."

"This will all work out...after I move you from the playing field and wipe her memory." Boltar said, telling all of you how it was going to be. He stepped back to grab his sword that was nothing more than memory foam wrapped up in duct tape. While it might not have looked threatening right now, he was already one step ahead to get the real thing. "Gilda?"

Gilda unwillingly listened to her master, granting his wish for a real sword to help take down his enemies. Not that she wouldn't make it a fair fight. Sam went for a sword when he saw one just across the tent, not too far from where he was standing. Boltar immediately knew what he was trying to do, and with another verbal command, the younger Winchester found himself being choked from behind by a suit of armor with its arms wrapped around his neck. Dean thought quick on his feet, grabbing a sword he found and shoved the shield in your direction to protect yourself.

Charlie, who had prior experience before with sword fighting in her time of larping, tried to take down the man, but she wasn't strong enough, and went flying back to the bed. Dean thought he was more than capable of taking down Boltar. He went charging at the man, thinking his sword was in fact real. However he came to the conclusion that it was good as the wooden one he was carrying around when Boltar's blade sliced right through Dean's, cutting it in half.

Thinking quick on your feet, and before Dean could get hurt, you jumped in front of the man and used the shield to block out the swing. You managed to block out three or so swings from Boltar, tiring him out just enough to get an advantage. You used the shield to shove him slightly backwards. When he was caught off guard from the move, you lowered the shield and did something you wanted to all day, you quickly swung up your fist and knocked him directly in the face. The blow was enough for him to go stumbling backwards and the book that caused all of this mess to drop to the ground. When you saw Charlie come out from the corner of your eye, you pulled out the only weapon that could fit into your outfit, a knife. You tossed it over to Charlie when you saw her going for the book to try and help save the day. You looked over at Gerry, who thought he was going to end up the hero at the end of all of this.

“Bet you didn’t see this one coming,” You taunted the man. “You misogynistic prick.”

“Hey, Gerry.” Charlie called out to the man to get his attention for what she was about to do. “I’m the one who saves the damsels in distress around here.”

Charlie wasted no time in stabbing the book to destroy it like how Gilda told her to do in order to break the spell. You quickly shielded your eyes from the sudden burst of light as Gerry yelled in anger at what the woman had done. Sam was free from the suit of armor, letting him breathe once more as the sword that Gerry was holding returned back to normal. But that wasn't going to stop him from trying to wipe off the smirk of victory that crossed your face at what you did. Gerry attempted to swing the sword in your direction, but Dean was faster than him.

The older Winchester grabbed the sword by the blade and yanked it right out of Gerry's hand. And did the proper thing of punching the man so hard, he knocked Gerry out cold. He stared down at the man, waiting for any kind of sign to strike down at him again, but the man was out cold. Dean threw the foam sword to the ground. You raised your brow slightly at his heroic effort that you wouldn’t admit to him you always secretly found impressive. There was nothing you loved more than Dean being all protective over you and threatening to the bad guy, not that you couldn’t defend yourself.

“What?” Dean asked. “Told you I’d knock anyone if they tried anything on you.”

You shook your head as you gave him a wink when nobody was looking. "My hero."

Dean wasn’t the only who helped save the day. Charlie got up from her feet and went straight to Gilda to make sure she was all right. “I’m free from the spell. You saved me. The hollow forest is forever in your debt.” Gilda told the woman. You turned your attention to the ending that almost seemed like it was out of a fairy tale. Heroine saves the damsel from the evil monster. But Gilda couldn’t stay. “I must return those green hills now. I will take my former master with me. He must face a fairy tribunal for his sins.”

Charlie understood what needed to be done. And she wanted nothing more than for justice to be served on the dick who caused so much suffering and pain. But before Gilda could go, the redhead wanted one last thing before the fairy went. Charlie pulled the fairy into another kiss, wanting to give one last one that she'd remember for a while. Gilda pulled away with a smile on her lips, giving one final farewell before vanishing from your sight. Charlie was left all alone, hopeful that maybe Gilda had phones where she lived to get in contact with her. Well, a girl could wish for a happy ending that involved a little fun.

+ + +

Now that the problem around Moondoor was solved and people could freely play their game without having to worry about any "accidents" from happening, it was time for you and the boys to hit the road. Charlie was a bit sad to see all of you go after only spending a day and a half together. But there was still work that needed to be done. You and the boys were back in your normal clothes while you walked around the grounds with Charlie, wanting to make sure she was all right before you left her. Lucky for you, both of her arms were perfectly fine. At least you kept up with your promise of not letting that happen to her again.

“So what’s next for you, Charlie?” Sam curiously asked the young woman. “New town ? New identity?”

"If the last twenty-four hours have taught me anything, it's that escaping isn't what it used to be. No more replacement characters for me I got to face reality from now on. Sadly, reality actually includes monsters, but what are you gonna do?" Charlie said. You smiled slightly at her decision you knew wasn’t easy to come to realize. There was nobody better out there but yourself. And Charlie had to come to the conclusion the hard way. “If I can ever be of help to you guys, let me know.”

“Will do.” You reassured the woman. Charlie gave you a warm smile before taking a step to head off to her pressing matters in Moondoor that were calling her attention. But before she could go, you stopped her, wanting to make sure she was all right. "And you, you're good?"

“Apart from the fact that you blocked me from banging a fairy, and I’m about to lose my crown in battle, thanks to my army being decimated? Yeah. Totally good.” Charlie said. She chuckled to herself at how cheerful she sounded, despite the suckish her life was about to be. As the woman began to make her exit, she made it a few feet before she turned around to face you and the boys, flashing you a familiar Vulcan salute. “Smell you later, bitches.”

"Hey, Red. Where do you think you're going so fast?" You called out to the woman, getting her attention. She stopped in her tracks and looked over at you. "I don't get a hug goodbye after the ass kicking we did last night?"

You headed over to Charlie to embrace the woman into a tight hug at all help she was. You mumbled another thank you to her as the both of you were momentarily distracted in your own personal talk, leaving the boys to wait behind for you to wrap up your goodbyes. Sam watched for a moment as you stood with a smile on your face, a genuine kind that he hadn't seen in so long. It seemed you and Charlie had grown to become fast friends when you handed her your phone so she could give you her contact information to keep in touch.

“So, what’s next? ‘Cause no fun, right?” Dean asked his little brother. He reminded himself of how Sam wanted things to be for now, and much as it sounded like sarcasm, he understood the feeling of life letting him down. "Look, before you say anything, I get it. No amount of fun is gonna help you get over what you gave up. You just need time, right?"

"Yeah. Thanks. And you're right. Having fun won't help me." Sam said. The younger man realized that wallowing in his own pity at what he had to give up wasn't going to help anything. It wasn't going to make him get over Amelia if he kept thinking about what could be. Because his life was about to change. And was reminded by you that life could change in an instant. Soon all of you weren't exactly going to have an opportunity to have fun like this. You and Dean were his family, and in order to heal for the future, he had to let loose. "It'll help the both of us. Shall we?”

Dean figured out what his brother was suggesting, and it took all of his will power not to break out into a smile. You headed back to the boys just a few short moments after Sam was willingly about to take part of the fight to defend her crown. You were about to open your mouth to say that you were ready to hit the road, but you found yourself asking where the hell Dean was going when he bolted forward to Charlie's tent, needing to get himself ready for battle.

+ + +

You've faced a lot of enemies in your time as a hunter, fought a lot of battles with monsters. But never in your time had you participated in one with foam swords while dressed in face paint and your hair pulled back out of your face. But you were having a damn good time, more than you had ever been before. And you were helping out your new friend, Charlie, keep her crown. You were back in your costume you were wearing yesterday with some accessories to help win the fight. And you were dead set on it. Dean felt like he was in his rightful place at the front of the crowd of Charlie’s army, getting them all pumped up to face battle like

"And dying in your beds many years from now, would you be willing to trade all the days, from this day to that, for one chance—"

Charlie, who was standing next to you and Sam, leaned over slightly when she found herself wondering why the older Winchester’s speech sounded so familiar to her. “Isn’t that the speech from—”

“It’s the only one he knows.” You whispered to her, Charlie nodded her head.

“Just one chance to come back here and tell our enemies that they make take our lives, but they will never take…” Dean was about to conclude the speech from Braveheart, but before he could, something came floating through the air, disrupting him.

You almost forgot you were at a public park when a man came running up to fetch his frisbee that accidentally floated over to where the battle was about to take place. The guy apologized for the incident and went running off to continue on his game with his friends. Once he was gone and out of the way, Dean was allowed to finish his speech with a victorious ending that pumped up Charlie’s army. You felt a grin spreading across your lips as you let yourself become engrossed into the fight as you charged forward, forgetting about all the worries and troubles in the rear future. Charlie was onto something with this whole LARPing thing. It was fun to pretend to be someone else for a little while. And kick some ass that didn't leave anyone hurt...too much.

[Next Part]

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester @everything-i-tried-was-taken@starswirlblitz @albot-e @supernaturalismydrug @we-are-band-sexuals@angiewinchestercas@kaylinfayezink @owhatshername1 @kgbrenner @cleo-is-my-doggy@eeyore1988 @dakota-dream @lilylovelyxo@timetravelingginger@holahellohialoha @quicksilver123456@natashacamillaus @lexi-anastasia @kaylinfayezink @deanwnchstr @albot-eh@yelloweyedwriter@rashinyx2002 @shellybeans @icantfindacreativeurl@becs-bunker @oreosatmidnight @bands-and-shietz @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear @clarewinchester@releasethekracko@alex-zeppelin @mega-mrs-dean-winchester@theskytraveler @1000roughdrafts @notmoose94 @assassinofmasyaf@caswinchester2000 @savannah-m-99 @sunlight-dean @strayrosesbloom@that-slytherin-over-there

Message me if you would like to be added!

36 notes · View notes

wannawrite · 6 years

Text

honeysuckle

who?: Wanna One’s Ha Sungwoon genre: 🌺🌸 type: scenario word count: 2.5K TW: OD, vomiting, pills

blog navigator.

sungwoon adores flowers to death

isn’t love supposed to taste like honey after all?

hanahaki! AU

I miss sungwoon so much. Good news: HIATUS OVER

- admin l

disclaimer: pictures used do not belong to me and credit goes to their original owners

everything that is written here is purely fictional

DO NOT READ IF TRIGGERING

The sweetness on the very tip of his tongue poisoned like a scorpion’s sting. It lingered on his taste buds, the sense of longing, yearn.

He stuck out his tongue and gently plucked the flower off, allowing it to scatter out the window. At the same time, Sungwoon took a glance outside, witnessing a gust of wind blow the flowers in circles.

Then, a bout of sweetness crashed into his being, snaking up his throat and into his mouth. His lungs heaved, coughing out parasitic flowers.

He had always been a flowers kind of boy.

But not like this.

By now, he didn’t care to dispose of them immediately, the sheer amount was too much to keep taking out regularly. Sungwoon let the flowers float across his room.

Thankfully, the medicine was taking effect and most of the flowers had been expelled from his body. His lungs no longer felt the pain of growth. The suffocating feeling of being filled from the inside out usually threatened his ribcage to burst. It was a miracle that the physical pain was gone.

Now, all that was left to do was tackle the root of the problem - the feelings in his heart.

“Sungwoon! Hello! Wow, I feel like I haven’t heard your voice in forever! I’m finally back in Seoul!” you shrieked excitedly on the phone with your best friend. Spending nearly a week on a church retreat to some remote island was exhausting yet uplifting. Still, you couldn’t wait to return to the busyness of city life. “How about we catch up at our favourite pancake cafe? I could use a stack of great honey pancakes right now,” you suggested hopefully, planning to bribe Sungwoon with his favourite treats. At the same time, you manoeuvred your luggage into your home. Sungwoon’s cheery voice was all you needed to cure your jet lag and boredom. His voice could make the moon sparkle and serenade the sun to sleep. “Remember that cute church choir guy I was telling you about?” you chirped. “There’s so much I want to tell you!” Sungwoon coughed, quite violently. Worry began to sink into your bones. “S-“ “I’m fine!” he replied, almost in a false cheery tone. “J-just caught the flu or something. I-I’ll see a doctor soon.” “Oh,” you mumbled fretfully. “Are you well enough to meet today? Maybe I should just come over-“ “No, no!” He cut off abruptly before coughing again. “See you later, bye.” Confused, you put down the phone, mind troubled. Then, you looked at your luggage. Well, at least unpacking would serve as a good distraction. It’ll be futile to get so worked up over nothing. Sungwoon would be fine. He always would be. ~

Ignoring the prescription on the lucid orange bottle, Sungwoon flicked the cap off and downed the few remaining pills in one gulp.

Screw one pill twice a day. Unrequited love suppressants don’t have time for that.

There was no time to ponder about side effects. No room in his mind to consider the consequences. He just had to hide this...disease, that was all that mattered.

Sungwoon knew that it was you he loved and truthfully, he would confess if this issue had not popped up. It meant that your heart was already taken by someone else.

He just couldn’t bear the burden of placing you in a tough position, especially if the reason was his feelings.

Best friend - who you’ve never felt romantically attracted to - or your crush - the person of your dreams?

Yeah, there was no debate about it.

Sungwoon’s heart began to squeeze but he paid it no mind. The all-familiar discomfort of tips of petals stabbing into his sides set it. He scooped yet another bloomed cherry blossom off his tongue.

None of the pain mattered as long as no one discovered his secret.

Most importantly, you.

Sungwoon was already seated at a window booth when you arrived. The familiar and comforting face sent warmth flooding through you. You were ecstatic to see your best friend again.

He stood up and reached for a quick embrace which was happily returned.

“You look well-rested after your retreat,” Sungwoon commented, noticing the halo of a glow that surrounded you.

“It was...enlightening. I had a lot of fun and it was nice to travel with my parents again,” you filled him in. “I did miss you, the city and everything else though.”

A small smile crept onto his lips, it was sweet like honey and playful like bees. “You missed me?”

“Ugh, stop it. Of course, I missed my best friend and I missed everyone in Seoul.”

Thankfully, two plates of steaming pancake towers arrived, each boasting three fluffy hotcakes stacked on top of each other. As usual, Sungwoon’s had the classic maple syrup and a cube of butter on the top.

You ate in silence for a few minutes, savouring each dense bite of pancake, soaking up the atmosphere of being in your favourite place, eating your favourite food, with your favourite human being.

The most trustable, honest and kindest friend you had to date.

“I’ve got to tell you! Remember Issac, the...choir guy?” you spilled to Sungwoon, who offered a nod in reply.

Issac was attractive, no doubt, but you weren’t sure if you were ready for a relationship or anything. He may not even be interested. You just had to consult your best friend.

“So you’re dating him now?” Sungwoon stabbed a square of pancake a little too aggressively.

Frantically, you shook your head. “No, no! I don’t know if I’m ready to invest myself in a relationship, especially when we only met over this retreat.”

Your declaration made Sungwoon breathe a little easier but he still felt uncomfortable. Little pinpricks began to jab his torso, from the inside.

He sighed, “You’ll know when your heart’s ready. And I’ll always support you. Don’t worry so much about this, there are still opportunities...enough for you to keep your options open.” Sungwoon let out a couple of coughs before dropping the topic.

Suddenly, the air seemed heavy, questions hung over your head like a rain cloud. Something seemed off. Was it discomfort? The vibes in the area seemed thrown off course.

Then, Sungwoon smiled and asked about the details of your vacation as a whole, and you found yourself in the warmth of sunshine and security again. Relaxed and cool, at ease.

After brunch - which Sungwoon insisted on treating, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to window shop or grab a coffee from a nearby cafe.

“If you’re up for it. I don’t want to overwork you when you’re sick,” you stated with concern.

Sungwoon ran quick calculations in his head, estimating the effects of the pills and how long they would last before the next dose. He needed to pop by the pharmacy to get a new bottle.

He felt like the pills would sustain him. Gut feeling.

That is the reason Sungwoon agreed and found himself in the line for a popular pop-up coffee booth.

He did feel better. Listening to your voice, seeing your bubbly smile brighten your face, hearing giggles escape your lips...made him happy.

A sudden pang of pain hit his chest but he willfully ignored it, hands balled into fists in an attempt to control his reaction.

No one must know.

“Two iced Americanos please and one with a shot of chocolate,” Sungwoon ordered. He had all the favourites memorised.

It kind of made you swoon.

“Thank you,” you beamed, practically glowing with delight. “There’s a reason you’re my best friend.”

Sungwoon’s smile was tight-lipped and seemed forced but he was quick to diffuse it. He handed you your cup and clinked it with his.

The pain was nearly unbearable, it attacked from all sides. Nausea washed over him like a tsunami wave, shaking his tall pillars of determination.

No. Not like this.

“Excuse me for a minute,” he uttered as loudly as he could, ducking behind the shop and into a less crowded alley. Stunned, you caught his coffee before it could spill.

“O-okay.”

Cherry blossom after cherry blossom spewed out from his mouth, the flow was uncontrollable, unstoppable. Sungwoon retched out honey-sweet pink petals until he was dry-heaving, head spinning and body quaking. He brushed away mini stray petals that stuck to the sides of his lips, shaking them off in distaste.

With trembling hands, he Googled side effects of the pills. That seemed like a good idea.

Dosage: More than three pills can be taken under severe circumstances. This would purge the lungs of all flowers, new flower growth, stems and roots. Warning: should only be taken in situations when the hanahaki disease could cause fatal respiratory malfunction and under 24-hour supervision of medical professionals

Side Effects: - will cause sharp, intense and prolonged pain - will cause frequent regurgitation to expel waste matter from the body - in serious cases, patients may lose consciousness due to severe pain and discomfort

No. No. No.

“Sungwoon? Oh my god!” You rushed over to your friend who was unsteadily bent over, practically hurling his lungs out. His phone was carelessly tossed to one side.

Sucking in a deep breath to calm your nerves, you tried to assist him in sticking to rhythmic breathing.

Which was of...little use?

There was no stopping these pesky rosy flowers.

Cautiously, you picked a clean, fresh cherry blossom from the floor, from the pile of ‘barf’.

H-hanahaki?

“I-I-I was going to tell you...” Sungwoon choked out, now leaning against a wall, unable to move. “I-I r-really was...”

He heaved out another clump of flowers and watched as one got caught up in the passing winds, danced in front of his eyes before being swept to your distressed face, then the sole flower was blown away into...oblivion.

I like you.

The cold, stiff plastic chair dug into your back and thighs as you sat waiting, anxiously waiting for Sungwoon to regain consciousness.

“You idiot,” you whispered, tears threatening to slip down your face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Now, all you could do was sit and hold his hand, waiting.

The doctors had to clear the remaining chunks of flowers, stems and ‘unearthed’ roots from his lungs. They had been choking him. Sungwoon had overdosed on the pills without any professional medical attention, it could have ended fatally.

At least, all he would sustain was minor bruising and soreness around his chest.

Finally, after hours of prodding, Sungwoon finally awoke. His eyes widened when they fell on you.

And at that moment, you couldn’t stop your tears from flowing.

“Who hurt you, Sungwoon? Who?” you cried. “Tell me and I’ll go sort it out for you! You don’t have to take these pills anymore!”

His mouth was pressed into a thin line, gaze wavering, uncertain.

You exhaled shakily like all the oxygen had been knocked out of your lungs. It hurt, it genuinely did.

“W-why did you do it? W-were y-you afraid that I would find out?”

A long pause filled the space. It was longer than necessary, too hesitant for comfort, a foreign feeling since you and Sungwoon rarely withheld details.

“Yes.”

Short, one-worded, affirmative answer.

Sungwoon tried to shrug and remain nonchalant about the situation. “Yes, I was scared that you would find out that I liked you, more than just a friend.”

Confession.

He let out a short sigh of pure relief and gladness, getting those off his chest was easier said than done but so worth it. Sungwoon felt much more carefree than burdened.

Still, he hoped it had not damaged the good relations.

A billion thoughts were racing through your head, crashing into each other when your brain failed to comprehend them individually. The information was being tossed at your form, compacted into one spaceship hurtling into the planet of you. A fresh batch of tears began pouring from your eyes.

“You could’ve told me! You didn’t have to hurt yourself like this! You’re my best friend Sungwoon. I can’t bear to see you get hurt!”

I know. I never wanted to hurt you either. All these flowers would ever do is to be a burden to you.

Walking next to Sungwoon...as a date was so much different from linking arms as best friends. You were much more self-aware, self-conscious of the smallest actions.

Since that whole incident last week, both of you had gone home and immersed yourselves in deep reflection, especially of your feelings.

Sungwoon’s hanahaki did not improve or worsen.

Finally, you decided to call him and give this ‘dating’ thing a shot. Both of you were single and you found Sungwoon the most amazing person in the world.

Maybe there was more to just admiration and platonic love. It never pained to discover.

The date was wholesome though it started off rather awkward and tense. Unfamiliar.

However, after an hour, all the uneasiness fizzled away and you were reminded who you were with, your best friend - possibly more than that.

You wished the date didn’t have to end so soon as the taxi rolled closer to your home. How would it end? Did all dates end with a kiss?

Colour filled your face at the thought.

“Thanks for,,, today,” Sungwoon concluded, blushing. He cleared his throat. “It’s late, you should get some rest.”

The taxi pulled to a gentle halt.

“Uh, I’ll walk you to your apartment.”

A smile made its way to your face at his words, you ducked out of the taxi before Sungwoon could notice your glee. He talked to the driver then hopped out of the vehicle.

“Today was really fun. I enjoyed myself,” you began, a hint of playfulness in your tone. “Let’s do it again sometime!”

Sungwoon’s cheeks reddened, almost with a rosy glow. He slowly slipped his hand into yours and clutched it tight. The feeling was foreign yet welcomed.

“Sure.”

You practically skipped up the remaining flights of stairs, too impatient and excited to remain still in an elevator, much less wait for one. Sungwoon was mercilessly dragged along, he laughed.

At last, the door came into sight, causing, a tinge of disappointment in the smiles.

“I-I’ll head in first...”

You fumbled with the locks and keys, trying to delay the entirety of ‘goodbye’.

Sungwoon bit his lips and swallowed hard before asking, “Can I kiss you goodnight?”

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, rocking back and forth, shuffling in his spot anxiously.

Your hands froze in their spot, no, your whole body froze, unsure of how to respond.

Oh my god oh my god oh my god!

Sensing the sudden reaction and change of mood, he slowly backed away, embarrassed. “I-I...goodnight. I’ll see you soon.”

In a flash, you tossed your keys aside. “Hey! Sungwoon!”

He spun on his heel, looking surprised. “Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

It was his turn to freeze up. You chuckled at his expression. Then, his shock morphed into a delightful smirk. His arms didn’t hesitate to circle around you, his eyes fluttered shut and then he pressed his lips onto yours.

Closing your eyes, you gladly melted into the kiss, allowing the world around you to melt away. The kiss was passionate, soft and promising, like the perfect blend of milk and honey.

A new, fresh feeling began to bloom in Sungwoon’s chest.

#admin l #ha sungwoon #wanna one #produce 101 #wanna one scenarios #produce 101 scenarios

38 notes · View notes

konicichan-blog · 6 years

Text

5am thoughts: theory: Story Of Light

is it called the Story of Light because its Shinee telling us and the whole entire world that they will no longer grief in sadness and that they've moved on and accepted what has happened? I'm sure we all know Shinee may still be sad (and maybe more than that) but what if this whole album is telling us that shinee, that all the members, Minho, Onew, Key, and Taemin are ready to have a new beginning? Like, they're ready to let all the sadness go and accept what has happened and that they will continue to work and grow.

What if You&I was about them talking about Jonghyun? Like, what if this song is about them trying to talk to Jonghyun? And theyre all trying to tell him that its hard when he's gone like they dont know what to do. "I’m the only one hurting, I may look fine I’m not easy, my feelings aren’t for decoration" And like they're all reminiscing their memories with him. All those good times that they're not ready to let go of. "A handful of memories, I laugh and remember every day" (okay the lyrics arent in order but JJJJust lemme finish and fyi, its gonna be a lOoong one). "There are countless stars in my heart, there’s one star that shines painfully I don’t want to grab it but I don’t want it to go out" okay in this part i think they maybe talking about Jonghyun. Maybe the stars represent people and "theres one star that shines painfully" might be Jonghyun. A star... someone really special to them... is hurting deep inside. Maybe Shinee is trying to tell us that although a celebrity or ANY person in general who may seem happy in front of the cameras or may seem happy in the outside in general is actually in deep pain inside. Dealing with self doubt, depression and all that and we just dont know :( "The things I can’t throw away make me smile" this is kinda self explanatory. Jonghyun, someone they love, someone they deeply cherish, someone they can't simply just let go of, someone who can always make them smile. You know? "I know that you’re being honest when you wish me well I’ll let you go easy, don’t think that you’re stepping on me" this is kinda hard to explain haha ahm.. maybe as time passes by, Jonghyun's absence is telling them to let go and move on and maybe they're mad with what he did? I DONT KNOW I DONT MEAN IT LIKE THAT! like mad, like?? how do i explain?? like maybe frustrated?? thats the best word i can think of right now riwjkrs they're frustrated but theyre not gonna blame it on him. like the good friends and brothers they are they will let it go easily.. UGH do i make sense? anyway. "I’ve let myself go to the wind and the rain that’s falling cooly But my feelings aren’t for decoration" okay so this is the part theyve told themselves that they really need yo accept what has happened. and maybe "my feelings arent for decoration" means that whatever they are feeling and whatever they are going through shouldnt be joked about in social media since its a serious matter and well ive seen some haters and some "new kpop fans" talk shit about this issue and honestly 😤 it makes me want to slap a bitch

Anyway

next song > UNDERCOVER

so the lyrics:

"I’m paddling my feet as busily underneath the surface with a calm expression on my face, You don’t know"

have u seen swans? how they paddle their legs under the water to move but above the water they seem so calm? like ballerinas, how their arms and body are always so graceful but their legs do all the work and stuff ¿¿?? okay im comparing the lyrics to swans and ballerinas because what if the boys are trying to tell us Jonghyun's situation and maybe also their's and other people who is suffering the same way? We don't always know what happens when we turn around. We don't always know when they're hurting. It's actually pretty easy to lie and fake a smile now a days so we always have to be careful with our loved ones. we dont always know what they're dealing with and one wrong move can cause a bomb to explode.

"Before the curtains rise, I’m always busy but when I’m standing before you I’m Acting cool"

Maybe theyre telling us that behind the scenes, theyre also suffering with personal or family issues. like every other person, celebrities have problems that they deal with too. they also have feelings. maybe on stage theyre smiling and having so much fun but backstage, theyre suffering? they cant breathe, they're overworked, theyre tired. sometimes they're forced to do things. Honestly for me, the kpop industry is so pressuring. you have to be this or that and if you cant you get criticized for it.

"I can’t let you know the things that are secretly happening now, now is not the time. I wait for the right moment, so that when you’ve realized it it’s too late."

Obviously most idols worry about their fans. Theyre worried when theyre fans are worried. its like a family thing we idol and fans have for each other yknow and maybe thats why sometimes they cant always speak up about whats really going on inside their mind. They cant always talk about it to the public bc sometimes people are so rude and so insensitive and leave comments like, "youre not depressed! youre just overthinking" bullshit, barbara. "you just need to hang out more" hMMmM :// ANYWAY thats why they dont really speak up alot. sometimes they cant even go to a psychiatrist privately because the media is always watching and once its on display, BOOm haters here and there talking bs and obviously WE wouldnt realize unless its TOO LATE!

"Like a black shadow is absorbed into the night, the night I dig deep beyond the consciousness, inside of you I’m Undercover"

I dont know how to begin with this.. its like once theyve hit rock bottom and they feel like nothing is gonna get better amd everything is just dark and gloomy. Maybe this is like the moving on part?? like the beginning of moving on. the depressive episode. And at first theyre just trying to hide everything. Just being undercover.

WAIT OMG OKAY SO MAYBE UNDERCOVER BEFORE YOU&I

so they got depressed over what happened and theyre trying to hide from everybody that theyre okay but theyre not and theyre just undercover. in you&i thats when they start reminiscing about jonghyun and talking to him. telling him they miss him and that for him, they're ready to accept and let go.

OKOK SO THE NEXT SONGS ARE WHEN THEY START BEING POSITIVE AGAIN !! YES GO SHINEE !! OUR STRONG KINGS !!!

so i dont really know the sequence i mean its already fucked up in the beginning so lets just go with whatever !!!

So in GOODEVENING!

"The cozy darkness is lingering far away"

so the 'darkness' or those gloomy days and toxic vibes theyve been surrounding themselves has been slwoly disappearing. they're starting to feel a little better again. <3

"At the tip of the sunset that hangs on the buildings I think of you"

i cant explain this one and note: i havent slept and its 6am but im still trying to make this work. but i think fjksjfks ok sunsets means like the day is "ending" and like before the day ends, they remember their sufferings while they were depressed and all those sad times with Jonghyun, like those times of grief.. they remember it all before starting a new day ¿¿ I DONT KNOW im trying my best to explain it. Its like theyre finally accepting what has happened and is ready to start a new happy day

"Spill out the darkness

Open the night

I wanna see you more, right now, oh"

So the sunsets and the night has come and theyve already accepted whats happend but they want to see Jonghyun in a different light. They want to see their bestfriend and brother as someone who was happy and made others happy. They want to remember Jonghyun as someone who made his parents and everyone around him proud.

"The moonlight is rising

I’m going to you before it’s too late

I’m going to get you

Imagining how surprised you’ll be, I’m going to you

Going to you

Without a reason, going to you"

okay this part is like giving someone a hug before they leave for their flight. Like even when hes gone hes not alone and shinee is not alone. like theyre always together. theyll always be together. "imagining how surprised you will be" nrkanfks im thinkg on how to write thus part wo sounding sarcastic. knowing what jonghyun has been through, he might have thought that he was and always will be alone... but the members are there to guide him in his travel to heaven with their prayers and theyre all hoping to surprise him ¿¿ AAAA im sorry if this sounds sarcastic or offensive i REALLY didnt mean it to be that way >·<

literally,for me anway, the whole song is about how theyll always be there for each other. even when the other is far away, it will never stop them from what they are doing. and thats why i love Shinee so much💓

In jump im not gonna add a lot of lyrics since im getting lazier. (lmao you can see my effort fading from you&i until here)

in Jump the song is about them trying to put their pieces together again. They've been broken and torn apart but they're ready to pick theirselves up again.

"I shake my head, brush it off and adjust my heart

I solidly protect my space again"

no one can recover quickly so i guess in this part, they're trying to take things slow. not too fast or anything or else they might make a wrong move and fall back to square one.

"Keep on enduring it

Just close my eyes when it feels futile for no reason"

in this part, theyre still not that strong enough so theyre telling themselves that they should just endure the pain or sadness. if it feels impossible, just close your eyes, believe and trust in yourself. theyve made it this far, why should they quit now?

"Higher, rise higher, fly

There’s the ground beneath your feet

When I travel between the two

Oh yes I feel the freedom

I jump on you, jump on you"

when they finally overcome the fear and sadness and EVERYTHING! they feel the weight lift from their shoulders and finally they feel freedom. overjoyed, they celebrate by jumping¿¿ i guess?? lmAO

"I’m not falling

I’m not wilting

It’s just changes

I turn different

And keep going forward"

this is when they realize that: nothing is going bad. everything is going just fine and everything is great. maybe they havent fully recovered yet but all those depression and pain is finally gone and theyre happy. They're different now and they realize they can finally keep moving forward without feeling to fall back down again.

"Why is that hard Why did I hesitate for such a long time Following my heart away From other people’s eyes I free the feet that were bound I let my imagination loose after a long time The wind is blowing Now I open my eyes and breathe in"

the first 2 lines is probably them asking themsleves, why didnt we do this earlier? they finally followed what their heart wanted instead of being trapped in their own mind and they finally can breathe again. they feel free and loose. they dont feel the heavy chains hanging on their shoulder anymore !

Now I can open my eyes and breathe in.

this is honestly a HUGE step for them. and im so proud?? ugh..

last song: All Day All Night

"All the moments I met you were highlight I don’t regret it, it’s just beautiful"

Theyre remembering Jonghyun more with their happy memories. How his existence highlighted mostly everything in their past. Jonghyun was such a big part of their lives and even if he was gone, they were still happy that he was able to be part of their lives and they were thankful to be a part of his.

"I start to see the world differently Yeah it’s all for you Time starts to emit a light Yeah it’s all for you Our very painful tears The joy that fills ourh hearts All for you, all for you, all for you"

Theyre doing all these wonderful things all for Jonghyun and maybe also for us too and for themselves. "Time starts to emit light" its pretty self explanatory. theyre beginning to see things in a positive way again !! So all of this, this is all for Jonghyun.

"Leave it alone, hold me and my painful scars All of it is the control"

theyre telling us to maybe accept it and move on too. To move on with them. We're all in this together and everything is in control.

So YAAS thats my theory or whatever you call it for SHINEEs album. I really do think the message hidden behind this album is deep and amazing and VERY important. I'm glad SHINEE is able to see things in a new light. Let's just keep loving and supporting them, okay??! So that's it.

The Story Of Light.

The End.

1 note · View note