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honeyhotteoks · 1 year

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this night together - chapter five (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter five: not so easy to ignore

chapter summary: things at the studio turn out just about as bad as expected, but wooyoung takes you under his wing and introduces you to some new friends.

warnings: references to a/b/o dynamics such as heat and knotting and designations, alcohol/drinking, angst, sad vibes, but also good vibes?, reference to work place sexual harassment but not like you think

notes: thank you all so much for your kind feedback on this fic. i'm having an absolute blast writing it, and i'm so thankful for all the people giving it a try even tho this genre isn't their thing! that means a lot. this is the last chapter i have written in full, so chapter six may take a little extra time. i'm about to hit a few insane weeks of work, so i'll do my best but please be patient with me. there's a lot more chapters to come though, i promise.....

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 6.9K

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As it turns out, you can’t just go back to being friends. When you wake in the morning you still feel sick, and your first thought is to wonder if Yunho does too. Maybe Mingi feels the same, but was better at hiding it. Maybe you’ll get to the studio and they’ll take you in their arms like a movie and kiss the breath out of you and hold you close and tell you they should have never, ever driven you home. But you doubt it.

You’ve been in love before, and you’ve had crushes before that. You’re no stranger to getting tangled up in emotional webs, it’s just usually not with people you work with and it’s usually so much easier to walk away. Or run, as you’re used to doing. This body, this designation, this biology, it makes everything always feel so confusing and artificial. Do you want them or does your omega? Do you need them or is it just the after effects of heat?

It’s a lot easier when you lie to yourself.

You’ve been dealing with this biology all your life. That’s all this is, and after a little time and a little distance, your body will catch up to your mind and stop feeling this way about them.

You take those aching feelings and lock them away tightly and then you get up. You shower, you take a deep breath, and then you buy yourself the fanciest coffee you can think of despite the absolute lack of funds in your checking account. This momentary serotonin will be worth the overdraft fee if that’s where it puts you, you need this.

By the time you get to the studio, you’re pretty confident that you’re over them, convincing yourself that it was just fun, good sex. Great sex, even, but still just sex.

But the minute you see Mingi every stitch of the resolve you knit for yourself unravels, and he looks surprised to see you even though it was part of the plan that you’d return today. He leaves the room before you can even open your mouth and try to say something innocuous and you know right then and there you were right all along. It was never going to be that simple.

Yunho blushes when he sees you, his ears turning a dark shade of pink and for a second he trips over his words addressing the wider group.

Mingi avoids your touch when you cross his path at lunch, offering you just a quick hello and then he’s gone again.

Instead of searching for their eyes, you start to get really comfortable with the wood grain of the floor and do your best just to focus on yourself. You’re working on something new, and a week ago you would have stayed late to fine tune your understanding of the choreography with Mingi while he waited on Yunho to wrap up in the back office, but you know those days are gone.

When practice ends they disappear, and you’re left to pack up by yourself. You give it a few minutes, thinking maybe when the rest of the crew trickles out maybe they’ll come to you, but they don’t. So much for being adults about this. You blink back hazy tears as you pull on your jacket, focused on packing up as fast as you can now just to get the hell out of this room.

You don’t even hear him coming up behind you.

“Come on,” Wooyoung says with a roll of his eyes, “we’re going for drinks.”

“I really should get home,” You glance over at him as you finish packing up your bag.

“I’m buying,” Wooyoung counters, “so you really have no excuse.”

What you really want is to go home and bury yourself under the covers for the foreseeable future. Every awkward second glance with Yunho was making you want to curl into a ball and every moment Mingi spent pretending he barely knew you made you want to go home and cry. An entire day filled with almost sentences and troublesome glances and all you can tell yourself is that you knew it, you were right all along.

You don’t answer Wooyoung, and instead you just can’t help yourself, you look behind you towards the back office, but neither of the men you want to see are there.

“Are you really so afraid of making friends you’re turning down free drinks?” Wooyoung prods your side, “That’s really fucking lame of you,”

“Wooyoung,” You sigh, your head dropping back.

“It’s fine,” He says, his voice lilting up in a sing-song, “I thought you were cool,”

Your jaw tightens.

“And I’m not usually wrong,” He goes on, “but it’s fine, I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong, and you, y/n, are lame.”

“Fine!” You snap up and meet his eyes, “Fine, I’ll come, but just one drink.”

“Excellent,” He smiles, and you’re starting to get the sense that Wooyoung doesn’t really take no for an answer ever.

“One drink,” You repeat.

“Yeah,” He shrugs off, “come on, get your stuff, we’re meeting San at 1987.”

“Where?”

“Bar,” He brushes off your question without really answering, “let’s go,”

Wooyoung turns on his heel without a second thought, and he’s off. You have to jog to keep up with him to get out of the building, and he’s mostly quiet until you hit the evening street outside. He slows to a casual pace and turns his head to you when he says, “You like San, right?”

The question catches you off guard, “Of course,”

Wooyoung smiles, “He’s definitely all business at work, most of the time, but don’t worry.”

“Why would I worry?” Your brow furrows, every interaction you’ve had with San so far has been perfectly pleasant, albeit professional.

“I just mean he’s fun,” Wooyoung corrects himself, “he’s just really serious about the work,”

“You’re all kind of like that,” You point out, “mostly,”

“Right,” Wooyoung nods, winding his way through an alley and you divert off the main street to follow him as he leads you through the back way to their regular spot.

“He takes training really seriously,” You offer, “but I think that’s good. We could all hurt ourselves if we weren’t following his plans,”

Wooyoung grins, “Oh, he’s going to like the sound of that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” Wooyoung lays a hand softly between your shoulder blades to direct you through a small crowd, “follow that up with how handsome he is and you’ll get special treatment forever.”

You laugh sharply, “Noted.”

He points ahead, “Just up there,”

At the far end of the alley is a hanging neon sign, the ‘7’ in ‘1987’ flickering intermittently. It’s not as flashy as some of the other bars or restaurants along the street you’re walking, but that looks to be part of the charm. As you make your way up to the door and inside, Wooyoung is quick to greet a few people on the sidewalk, throw a wave to the bartender, and he throws around names and details to you faster than you can pick up on them.

San waits at a table in the far corner, two light, wheat beers already waiting on the table. When he glances up from his phone and sees you both his eyes widen but he smiles pleasantly.

“Hey!” He smiles, standing and pulling a chair out for you, “I didn’t realize you were coming, I would have ordered you something,”

“I’m not crashing plans, am I? Woo didn’t say,” You glance between them.

“Not at all,” San shakes his head, gesturing for you to sit, “you’re more than welcome. Seonghwa should be coming too at some point,”

“Oh,” Your stomach does a little nervous flip flop.

“Chill,” Wooyoung interrupts your thoughts immediately, “have a drink, make some friends.”

You smile, taking your seat and letting San push it in for you so you’re settled at the table before he returns to his own place, gesturing for the server’s attention, “What’s your drink?” he asks you.

“Whatever you’re having is good,” You make it simple.

San smiles and points to their glasses before holding up a finger and silently communicating to the server that they need one more. He’s more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him, now outside of work full of easy, confident energy.

“Well,” Wooyoung smiles and takes a long sip of his drink, “this is nice,”

“Yeah,” You’re not entirely sure what you’re doing here, but you might as well go with it, “thanks for letting me tag along,”

“Mm,” San’s eyes are trained on the serving staff but he nods, and then stands as your server approaches, meeting them halfway and taking the beer, thanking them profusely for running it out so quickly. When he returns to the table he presents your drink with ease, “There we go,”

“Thank you,” You nod, accepting the cold glass, and now that it’s in your hand you’re grateful to have the drink after the day you’ve had.

The sip is calming, cool and crisp, and you sigh as you swallow, not realizing the way you’re being watched by both men.

Wooyoung’s words nearly knock you sideways, and a tiny piece of you is grateful he waited until you finished sipping your drink, “So, how was your heat?”

You cough anyways though, just the idea that someone would say it so brazenly, and in public, “What?”

“Youngie,” San slaps him with the back of his hand, “you can’t ask her that,”

Wooyoung ignores him, leaning forwards with his elbows on the table now, “The perfume isn’t helping as much as you think,” he says and you blanch, “and I’ve never seen Yunho stare at someone for so long in my life, so,”

He barely met your eyes all day, and your head snaps up, “He was staring?”

His mouth quirks up on one side and San swivels his head towards you. Wooyoung nods, “Like a puppy,”

“Fuck,” You breathe.

Both their eyebrows raise.

“Sorry, sorry,” You lean back in your chair, hiding your face in your hands. So much for a convenient story about them having the flu.

“You can curse,” Wooyoung laughs, “I just didn’t expect you to admit it that fast, I thought I’d have to pry it out of you.”

“Oh, this is so bad,” You groan.

“Why bad?” San asks, “Yunho’s nice,”

You sigh, still hiding your face.

“He’s easily one of the best guys I know,” San continues, “and there’s nothing that says we can’t date within the company, we’re not idols,”

“Oh god,” You groan again.

“Is it so bad he has a crush on you?” San asks.

Wooyoung breaks into hysterics and your hands fall away, a blank, open expression on San’s face as he tries to pick up on the joke. You wince, shaking your head, “It’s worse than that,”

“Worse,” San repeats, still slow on the uptake.

“Woo,” You find his eyes with yours, “please don’t make me say it.”

He sobers quickly, and takes a swig of his beer, “Right,” he faces San, “Yunho had the flu, but it wasn’t really the flu. They were heat partners.”

“Oh,” San says, “oh,”

“Exactly,” You sigh.

There’s a beat and then San’s brow screws up in confusion, “Didn’t Mingi have the flu too?”

Heat tints your cheeks pink instantaneously and you look down at your glass, suddenly focused on the tiny bursting bubbles at the top of your beer. You brace yourself for their reaction.

“Holy shit,” Wooyoung breathes, “y/n, you’re a god,”

“What?” Your head snaps up.

“Both of them?” Wooyoung shakes his head, “Tell me everything,”

“You don’t have to do that,” San interrupts him again, smacking the back of his arm, “he’s needlessly curious, but you know, you don’t have to share if you don’t,”

The words flood out of you, a small piece of you thankful that you don’t have to hold this whole thing inside yourself forever, “I went into heat at the studio,”

“What?” Wooyoung’s face softens, and you know that he understands just what that means. The anxiety, the fear, all of it.

“This is embarrassing,” You sigh.

“Then you don’t have to,” San tries again, wanting badly to save you from any further humiliation or pressure.

You ignore him and hold Wooyoung’s eyes, “Friends, right?”

He nods.

You swallow hard and then take the leap, “I can’t afford my suppressants right now,” you start and his eyes soften more, “I thought I had rationed them right, but after the recording it hit me like a truck.”

“I knew you seemed off,” Wooyoung says softly, “then what?”

“Mingi found me in the locker room, and then he got Yunho, and they made sure I got out of there okay,” You lean back, crossing your arms and biting the inside of your lip.

“Sharing your heat was unplanned?” Wooyoung clarifies.

“Yes,”

“And it was,” He searches for the right words, “I mean… were they okay? Everything was okay?”

You know what he’s asking without asking, and you nod, “Completely, it was more than okay, they were…”

“They’re both good guys,” San says, “it’s good they were there.”

“Yeah,” You breathe, before snapping yourself out of own head and reaching for your beer again, “anyways, yes, so they took me back to their place and now it’s four, five days later and everything’s so fucking awkward,”

“Hmm,” Wooyoung murmurs, “and it was good?”

You nod, lips pressed tight together in a line.

“Oh, it was too good,” Wooyoung grimaces, “yikes.”

“Right,” You sigh, “and Yunho and Mingi both made it pretty clear that this was a one-time casual sex thing, which is fine, but also you know how heat goes. Everything is all jumbled up now,”

“Mm,” Wooyoung nods, and then his eyes shift to above your head and he grins, “Hwa, right here!”

Park Seonghwa appears a moment later, a warm smile on his angular face and he pushes a lock of dark black hair behind his ear as he finds an open seat and slides into the table, “Hey,” he greets, and then turns to you, “hi, y/n, nice to see you outside the studio,”

“You too,” You smile.

San once again repeats his process for getting Seonghwa a drink, and your stomach tightens as you think about what Wooyoung might say in front of this man you barely know.

“It looks like I interrupted something,” Seonghwa says a few moments later when everything is still quiet and hanging still.

Wooyoung doesn’t say it, he just holds your gaze intently and raises an eyebrow as if to say - Can I?

You sigh, catching Seonghwa off guard, and then you nod.

“y/n just got back from heat leave,” Wooyoung turns to Seonghwa to explain, “with Yunho and Mingi.”

You expect a sheepish or embarrassed reaction, someone quick to divert the conversation away from sex, but it turns out you don’t know Seonghwa as well as you thought. He merely makes a noise of acknowledgement and glances to you, “How messy are things, then? They were both being weird today,”

“I don’t know,” You answer honestly with a sigh.

“They said they wanted it to be a one-time thing,” Wooyoung says, “but is the problem that you like them? Or one of them?”

“I can see that,” Seonghwa smiles, “Yunho kind of oozes perfect boyfriend,”

“It’s not that,” You shake your head, words bubbling up as you try to make sense of it, “it probably shouldn’t have happened at all, and I’m new, I don’t want to make anything weird or uncomfortable, but we spent like four days together… it was intense, and now I just feel like I can’t not think about it when I look at them,”

“Intense, good?” Wooyoung quirks a brow, nudging you under the table.

“Woo,” You sigh, “I’ve never felt like that,”

“What do you mean?” He asks softly, the two alphas at the table going silent to watch you both.

“I don’t know what it is about them,” You confess, “but the entire time all they did was make sure I was okay, they were so tender and kind, and when I left I just wanted to go back.”

“Oh,” Wooyoung murmurs, “you’ve got it bad,”

“My hormones are just out of whack,” You shake your head, “you know what it’s like. Have an alpha tell you they want to give you pups enough times and your brain short circuits,”

Seonghwa shifts in his seat and San clears his throat, but Wooyoung just laughs.

“Anyways, yes,” You take another sip of your drink, “I spent my heat with them, had the best sex of my life, and now I’m sitting here with a stomach ache because I don’t know where they are right now. I feel like the universe is playing a trick on me,”

“Wait,” Wooyoung starts to say, but you’re on a roll now, the single beer hitting just a little harder than it should have.

“Working here, with all of you, was my dream. I just think it’s funny that I haven’t even been here for three months and I’ve already managed to fuck it up, because now everytime I look at Yunho all I can hear is me begging him to claim me, which is insanity, pure and complete insanity,”

“Wait,” Wooyoung repeats again, hands up and out trying to get you to slow down, “I thought it was casual heat sex,”

“It was,” You resurface from your own panicked rambling and realize just how shocked the table looks, “what?”

“You asked Yunho to bite you?” Wooyoung asks, and when you nod he says, “and right now, how do you feel?”

“Fine,” You knee-jerk answer, “but, a little anxious I guess?”

“I don’t know how to explain this,” He says, looking to the two alphas for help who both shake their heads.

“Why do I feel like I’m missing something?” You glance between them.

“Okay,” Wooyoung claps his hands together, “listen, I have never asked Sannie to give me pups. I have never asked him to bite me, and I have never, ever, gotten all dizzy and sick when he’s not around.”

“Hey,” San grumbles, “I think she gets it,”

“I don’t,” You manage.

“What you had is a lot more than heat sex,” Wooyoung finally settles on, and your stomach drops.

“Woo,” You shake your head again, “no,”

“I’m serious!” He insists, “How else do you explain it,”

“You’re so dramatic,” You roll your eyes and reach for your drink, but find the glass empty, “it was good, really good, but that’s all it was.”

“He’s not wrong,” Seonghwa interrupts, his deep voice still calm and easy, “sometimes connections are just stronger. Scents match better, you know, everything just clicks. It doesn’t mean Yunho’s your soulmate, but if the pull is there, then there’s something there.”

You ignore the pull and flash him a weak smile, “Not for them.”

“Them,” Seonghwa corrects, “both of them?”

“I know,” You bury your head in your hands again.

“y/n,” San’s hand lays softly on your forearm, “no matter what happened, Yunho and Mingi are both still the guys from a few days ago. They’re still good men who care about you, even if that’s just as a member of the crew or a friend.”

“Can I ask a question?” Seonghwa interrupts.

“Sure,” You sigh, lifting your eyes to his.

“How do you know they don’t want you too?”

The question makes you feel awful, and you catch Wooyoung’s sympathetic look in your peripheral vision and nearly lose your composure, but the truth of it is simple. You clear your throat softly and straighten up, “They said so,”

“Oh,” He nods.

“And I’m not even sure I want them,” You tack on, “I don’t even really know them,”

Silence stretches at the table, and San’s eyes flick from yours to Seonghwa.

“Then let’s get another drink,” Seonghwa finally says, “let’s get your mind off it, and let’s have a good night. I know things are awkward at the studio, but don’t let them be. Just focus on the work and yourself and make some friends, and this whole thing will just be a funny story,”

You nod and sigh, “Okay,”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung offers, “a month from now no one’s going to remember,”

It’s around the third bar when someone brings it up again. You’re several more drinks deep, learning so much about the group dynamics that you can’t get while inside the studio walls. Wooyoung is quick to peel back all the layers for you now that you’re actually out with them and not just pushing it off a little longer for the sake of your wallet.

Leaning across the expanse of the table Seonghwa gets your attention with a drunken tap on your arm and his eyes narrow, “What’s this about you not being able to afford your suppressants?”

“What?” For a second his words don’t compute.

“Your meds, your suppressants,” He gestures, a little beer tipping over the edge of his glass, “why aren’t you on them?”

“I will be soon,” You lean in closer to hear each other over the music, “insurance window,”

“Ah,” He nods, “so what’s your plan next time?”

“Next time?” You turn your head so that his mouth is closer to your ear.

“Next heat,” He clarifies, a little slur in his speech, “while you’re onboarding,”

Your eyebrows shoot up at his words, “I don’t really know, I guess,”

“Mm,” He nods.

“Why?” You scoot your chair closer.

“I’m assuming you don’t want to,” His voice gets swallowed up by Wooyoung shouting something over the music and you shake your head.

“What?” You squint, shifting closer, bracing your hand on the table by his glass to steady yourself.

“Go back to Yunho and Mingi!” He all but shouts, “I’m assuming you don’t want to do that,”

“Fuck no,” You groan, “I’d rather take care of it myself than deal with feeling like this,”

“What about me?” He says and you laugh, but you don’t really know why. He clears his throat and shakes his head, sobering himself just a little, “Seriously,”

“What about you, what?”

He rolls his eyes, “Help with heat, I help Woo, San and I both do,”

“Oh,”

“Only if you need a hand,” He smiles, round eyes shining and kind, “or you know, a knot in this case,”

You clap a hand over your mouth and can’t help but fall apart into giggles, “You’re serious,”

He quirks his eyebrow at you, dropping his drink back onto the table so he can draw an X over his chest with two fingers, crossing his heart.

“What are you doing over there?” Wooyoung interrupts and your head snaps to the side, “Making a blood pact? You’re both trashed,”

“I am not trashed,” You insist, even though you can feel yourself slipping off the chair you’re on inch by inch.

“You’re allowed to be,” Wooyoung pushes a shot of soju towards you, “you’re broke and in love,”

“Wooyoung!” His words strike panic through you, “Seriously, stop that,”

“Alright, alright,” He throws up his hands, “broke and and in lust, whatever,”

San’s lips curl up in a half smile at his friend’s words. His eyes are closed, and he’s swaying a little from side to side, jerking back to center every now and again when his equilibrium feels too sideways. It’s entirely possible Wooyoung is the most sober one here and that thought makes you burst into laughter. San’s eyes fly open at the sound.

“I was offering my services,” Seonghwa cuts in, like he had been thinking about what to say that entire time and finally found the words.

“Your what?” Wooyoung laughs.

“For her next heat,” He explains, waving his hand like it’s simple addition, “my services,”

“Seonghwa,” San shakes his head sharply, “stop.”

“It’s not as if I’m with someone,” Seonghwa replies, holding San’s gaze intently, and for a split second it’s obvious there’s some kind of a backstory behind them all or their friendship or just Seonghwa himself that everyone knows and you don’t, but it isn’t the time to ask.

“Yeah,” San says a little gruffly, blinking hard to shake off the alcohol, “well, this still isn’t the time.”

Wooyoung wraps it up smoothly, “We’re all too drunk for this,”

“Exactly,” You take a moment of solace in the cup of soju.

“I mean it though,” Seonghwa tears his eyes away from San and a hand drops onto your knee, “you’re pretty, I’m pretty, just keep it in mind,”

There’s almost no way he’ll remember this tomorrow, so you let him off the hook with a smile and a hand on the side of his cheek, “Thank you, Hwa,”

“That’s what f-friends are for,” He hiccups lightly, and then you watch his eyes unfocus as the dizziness floods his vision and he drops his head unceremoniously onto your shoulder, “oh, God, I’m drunk,”

“There it is,” Wooyoung grins.

You slip forward as Seonghwa’s weight drops onto you and you brace yourself on the edge of the table, but San swoops in, “Come here, hyung, stop hanging on her,”

“Hmm?” Seonghwa’s eyes look tired when San gets him off you and over his shoulder, “Sannie?”

“Yeah,” San softens, “it’s just me,”

“I think I need to lie down,” Seonghwa murmurs, his head falling onto San’s ready shoulder.

“I know, hyung, I know,” San softens, and then turns to the table, “can we go?”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung stumbles as he gets up but then straightens, tucking himself under Seonghwa’s other arm once he gets his feet under him, “y/n, you good?”

You pull yourself up too, knocking back the final shot of soju so it doesn’t go to waste and pulling on your jacket, “Good,”

In the cool night air outside the bar everything gets dizzier, more watery and hazy, and something in your gut pulls hard. For a brief passing moment you wonder what Yunho and Mingi are doing right now.

San’s saying something and you shake yourself out of your stupor, “What’s that?”

“I said, where do you live?” He lets Wooyoung take more of Seonghwa’s weight as he turns his focus to you.

You give him your address, “I can call an Uber,”

“I live kind of close,” He nods, “let me take you,”

“You really don’t have to,”

“It would make me feel better,” San brushes you off immediately, “we’ve all been drinking, you shouldn’t be alone,”

“What about him?” You nod towards Seonghwa.

“I got him,” Wooyoung assures, “we live in the same building.”

“You sure?” San checks, “We can all go together,”

“It’s the opposite direction,” Wooyoung shakes his head, “and I’m tired, this just makes more sense,”

San nods and then checks on Seonghwa once more, “Make him drink some water, okay?”

“Yep,” Wooyoung salutes, rolls Seonghwa into an Uber, and then they’re gone.

Leaving you and San alone on the sidewalk.

“Let me get a car,” He says, shaking off some of his lingering drunkenness and pulling out his phone.

Of the three men, you talked to San the least. As the night had stretched on, you found yourself sidled up with Seonghwa or talking across the table animatedly with Wooyoung, but San seemed to give you a little space. He was also the one who commented the least on your recent sexual escapades and now standing in the middle of the street with him and him alone, you have no idea what you’ll talk about.

You watch as he types into his phone, lets it search, and then his nose crinkles, “Twenty minutes,”

“Oh,” You push up on your tiptoes to see his screen, “damn,”

He thinks for a minute and then sighs, “You want to walk a bit? I need to sober up a little anyways,”

“Sure,”

“Hungry?” His brows perk up.

“Definitely,” You smile.

“There’s places in our direction,” He waves you on, and you fall into lockstep with him as you wind out of the alley and back into the city streets.

It’s quiet for a moment, and you know one of you has to break the silence, but mercifully he gets there first, “You’re a good dancer, you know,”

“So are you,” You glance up at him, and he smiles.

He’s handsome, especially like this with his cheeks tinged pink with the night of drinking and his hair falling in his eyes. He directs you forward across an intersection and then looks down to keep talking, “You pick little things up really quickly, it’s impressive,”

“I appreciate that,” The alcohol seems to be less pervasive now that you’re out of the loud club and walking some of it off and you sigh, “honestly, I was staying late with Mingi a lot of nights. He was helping me catch up,”

“Ah,” San nods, “that makes sense,”

You keep walking. Normally you can get a conversation going without any problems, but with the alcohol and the late night and the fact that you really don’t know San all that well, you’re tongue tied.

He sighs heavily and looks at you, like he had been weighing whether or not to say something and finally chose to just do it anyway. “Don’t worry about what Seonghwa said,” He manages, “he was drunk, and I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh,” Your stomach knots up, “he didn’t,”

“Good,” San nods, looking relieved, “he’s a good man, he’s,” San searches for his words for a moment, “not the type to proposition a coworker, that’s not what,”

“Oh!” It makes sudden sense why San was being so careful, offering to walk you home and trying to keep Seonghwa in check, “No, San, that’s not at all what I thought,”

“It’s not?” His eyebrow quirks up.

“No, I mean,” Your gaze falls away from him, “it probably should be, but I know he meant well. Plus, I know you both help Wooyoung,”

“Well,” San shakes his head, “that’s a little different,”

“Because you’re all men?”

He smiles, a little sheepish, “No, I was going to say because we’re old friends, but I guess there’s that too.”

“Ah,” You turn towards him, “well, really, you shouldn’t worry about me like that. Hwa was just trying to be a good friend, and I’m sure he won’t remember it tomorrow anyways,”

He sighs, relieved this time, “Good, okay,”

“Is that what you were worried about?” You ask.

“Between that and Woo practically interrogating you,” His nose crinkles again, “that part of your life is private, he shouldn’t pry like that.”

“I would have told him to stop,” You shake your head.

“I hope so,” He says, “I wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable with us after everything you’re dealing with. We like you in the crew,”

“You do?”

“Definitely,” He twists to meet your eyes, “you have fire. I saw it in the audition tape,”

Blush flushes your cheeks, “Thank you,”

“I’m just being honest,” He smiles.

You smile back.

It gets easier the more and more you walk with San. The alcohol slowly dissipates in both your systems, and after a few more blocks the idea of street food seems even more appealing. He refuses to let you pay and you only protest once, albeit weakly, before he gives you a simple shake of the head and takes care of things without another word.

It’s a thirty minute walk, especially at this meandering pace, but eventually you make it back to your block, and you don’t know what possesses you to turn the conversation back to Yunho and Mingi and everything it means but you do. He’s less shy to discuss it now, especially after enough time getting to know each other and sinking into a conversational rhythm.

By the time you make it to your apartment walkway, your corn dog is half eaten and your previous anxiety about talking to San is gone entirely. You gesture up to your building, “This is me,”

“Nice,” He comments, and then he takes a seat on your stoop and looks up at you, expectant.

“What?” You ask at his expression.

“You weren’t done, come on, tell me the rest,” He leans back against the railing, stretching out his legs.

“Right,” You remember yourself, flopping down onto the step next to him and running a hand through your hair, “where was I?”

“Yunho reminding you of your ex,” San prompts you.

“Ah,” You shake your head, “I mean not really, my ex was an asshole, but… I guess I didn’t know that for a long time. I thought he was nice, I thought he was the right guy.”

“And Yunho’s nice and the right guy?” He smirks.

“No, no,” You wave your hands, “fuck, I’m not making sense with this at all.”

“Can I guess?” San turns his body towards you a little more.

You nod.

“When your heat was over,” San’s expression is almost a little apologetic as he addresses it directly, “did you all agree it was just sex?”

“Yes,”

“And that you could all be adults about it?” He adds.

You nod again.

“And today you were all awkward as hell and avoiding each other?”

“Basically,”

“Listen,” San rests his hand on your knee, “I don’t know what your ex did or didn’t do, but they’re not that guy.”

“I know,” You sigh.

“But I get it,” San interrupts, “it feels like you had this connection and everything was good and now they’re pretending you don’t exist, and how is that different from any other guy?”

He has you there. You manage a nod.

“Well, I don’t know how they feel about you,” He offers, “but I promise you they’re just as embarrassed as you. It’s easy to say you’ll stay friends and that the lines won’t get blurred, but they always, always do.”

You study him for a moment, at the way he’s speaking so genuinely and it dawns on you, “You speak from experience, I’m guessing?”

He looks down and away, nodding before he brings his eyes back up to yours, “Yeah,”

“Woo?” You guess softly.

After an entire night of watching them lean against each other, touch each other, talk amongst themselves in their little bubble, you’re shocked when his mouth turns up into a sad smile and he shakes his head, “No, Woo and I have figured out how to make this whole thing easy,”

“Oh,”

“Wooyoung loves me, but he’s not in love with me.” San clarifies.

“And you?” You ask softly.

“He’s my best friend,” San says confidently, “and I’ll never let him be in pain,”

“But?” You nudge him.

“It was a long time ago,” He shakes his head and for the first time all night you know he’s told you a lie, but you let it pass. He shakes off the momentary lapse and continues, “but I know how you’re feeling.”

“Then how do I make it right?” You ask him.

“Sometimes you can’t,” He says honestly, “sometimes one person just feels so much more than the other, and you try to make it work until you bend so much for them you break.”

“I know what Woo said,” You shake your head, “but I’m not in love with them. I’m not.”

“I trust you,” San nods, “you know yourself better than Youngie.”

“It’s just this thing inside me,” You confess, and maybe it’s the alcohol or the lateness of the hour but you feel safer here on your stoop with him than you have in a long, long time, so you keep confessing. “I wish sometimes so much that I could just be a beta, that I could forget all about this and just know for sure. I’ve… never known anything for real and how am I supposed to trust anything I feel if my body just decides for me.”

He’s quiet for a moment, but then he says, “Being an omega is a beautiful thing,”

“Don’t,” You shake your head sharply, “I’ve heard that one all my life,”

“It is,” He insists, “all of it’s beautiful. Every part and piece of us is, alpha, beta, omega, all of it.”

“San, that’s not,”

“I know what you meant,” San says softly, sliding his hand into yours and giving you a squeeze, “and it would be easier to be a beta, and to not have to wonder every time. Does the person you like feel right because you like them or because something about them is a good biological match?”

“Exactly,”

“Believe me,” He squeezes you again, “I get it.”

Tears prickle in your eyes and you swallow hard to clear them, “Then how do I make this work? How do I go back to the studio and put this behind me?”

“Is that what you want?” He checks, thumb stroking along the back of your hand.

“Yes,” You sigh, “it doesn’t even matter how I feel or don’t feel, I can’t take that risk here,”

“The work is more important,” He finishes for you.

“Yes.”

“Then don’t let them in again,” San says simply, “not like before. Be friends, but keep things professional. Get some distance from this whole thing,”

“I have a feeling this is not the advice Woo would be giving me,” You smile.

“No,” San laughs, “Wooyoung would tell you to open yourself up to the great mystery of being loved or something,”

“And you’re not a romantic,” You smirk.

“No, no,” He shakes his head, “I am, but being a romantic doesn’t mean you have to let people hurt you. I’ve seen Woo get his heart broken a dozen times now, and he keeps trying. He’s the strongest person I know, and I love him for it, but it’s not the only way.”

“So what he said at the bar,” You tuck your unfinished food into the little bag and leave it to the side, “what he said about my heat?”

“I mean,” He shrugs, “y/n, this isn’t your first time. Don’t listen to him,”

“But Seonghwa,” You remember the way Seonghwa agreed, like a scent match was the stars aligning.

“Fuck them both,” San shakes his head, “just because you had a connection with them doesn’t mean they’re the only people you can connect with.”

Your eyes fill with tears again and he shakes his head when he sees your hazy eyes, brushing your jaw softly with his fingers. You swallow hard and sigh, breath hitching in your chest, “You know what’s funny about this?”

“Hmm?” He brushes your jaw again.

“I don’t even want to date right now, I just,” You shrug lightly, “I want to work. I want to have friends. I want to go out and meet people or stay in if I feel like it. I don’t want to sit on the couch pining or walk on eggshells at the studio,”

“y/n,” San steadies you, his voice low and calm, “listen to me, okay?”

“Okay,” You murmur.

“You have work to do, so focus on it. You have friends, including me, and Woo, and Seonghwa, okay? You come out with us… or don’t,” He smiles and squeezes your hand, “and the studio will feel weird for a little while, but trust yourself, it will fade.”

“It will,” You nod, “you’re right,”

He nods, holding your gaze a little longer until he gives you one more squeeze. San shifts back to give you a little space, his hands leaving you and clasping together to hang between his legs. He smiles, “Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah,” You run your hands through your hair and let out a long, tired exhale.

“Sobered up?” He checks.

“Mostly,” You nod, checking your watch, “but it’s so late I’m still going to be feeling it tomorrow,”

“Mm,” He nods, “we aren’t starting until eleven though,”

“True,”

The night is drawing to a close, you can feel it. You don’t really want to be alone with your thoughts again, but you’re also so tired you think you might drop on the spot, so you start to pull away and hope that you’ll be able to fall asleep the minute you hit the pillows.

He pushes himself up to stand and offers you a hand to help you to your feet, “Should I walk you up?”

You shake your head, “I got it,”

“I’ll wait until you get in,” He smiles and nods.

You make it two steps up before you turn back to him, “Thank you, San,” you tell him, “for everything tonight, really,”

He smiles wider, his eyes crinkling up and he nods again, “Don’t thank me, just remember what I said.”

“I will,”

“And y/n,” He calls after you as you start back up the path, “sleep well,”

“You too, Sannie,” You give him one last look before you push open your apartment door and start up the steps. He doesn’t budge, making sure you’re in the door before he pulls out his phone and starts his short walk home.

Coming home this time doesn’t hurt the same.

You hope for more of the same tomorrow.

You hope every day that it fades away, little by little.

#ateez #honeyhotteoks fics #honeyhotteoks series #this night together fic #yungi x reader #yungi smut #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #ateez ff #ateez series #yunho series #mingi series #yunho fic #mingi fic

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soaps-mohawk · 7 months

Note

Had a dream about this and as soon as I woke up I ran to ask you

Who in the 141 would have a massive sweet tooth? What are their food preferences?

My knee jerk answer was Johnny 😂 I feel like there's a pattern here.

But, hear me out, I could also see Johnny as being one of those super obsessed gym bros that counts every macro and nutrient and carb and fat molecule that enters his body. (But he does enjoy a candy bar every so often)

I'm going to surprise everyone and say Ghost.

Just search up what chocolate does to the brain. Releases serotonin and dopamine? Things someone with intense trauma yearns for? This man keeps whole stashes of chocolate hidden around base and in his gear. Oh, he needs a quick bite of something? Candy bar. Dessert after a night out? He's buying.

Just imagine this big, hulking, 6'3 monster of a man dressed in all black with a skull mask, his hood pulled up, sitting in an ice cream shop going to town on an ice cream cone.

You're welcome.

#enjoy those visuals 😉#answered

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yyxandere · 11 months

Note

Oh, I'm so happy you liked my images! I was wrote a few images (and Ryuji 👀):

Rikiya is such a sweet man for you! He can talk with you for hours on end about everything, always being the initiator, and even if you are silent, then do not be afraid, he is happy even if you look at him. Rikiya one hundred percent WILL ask his Aniki for advice on courting you and how to treat you as best as possible, writing down everything said in a notebook, he trusts him so much! He is always ready to rush to your aid, helping you in everything, especially when you need to walk through the streets at night, full of scoundrels at that time (and the opportunity to hold hands with you while looking at the shining lanterns of Kamurocho). Convulsive trembling of fingers, slight blushing and a soft smile - this is all Rikiya has on all your dates together. Most likely, with him the chance of being kidnapped by him is almost impossible, he is too afraid of harming you both physically and mentally, wanting only your well-being.

Ah, Ryuji Goda… Even with a quick sneak peek to his direction, all can already say that this is a formidable and powerful Yakuza, which has practically no equal. He loves to show you off as his main treasure, dressing you up in expensive outfits and jewelry, which he make you practically glued to his side with always grabbing your waist and is unlikely to give you permission to walk around alone. And woe to those who dare to flirt or talking with you… Those unfortunate people were often found unconscious in garbage containers, which gave other men a reason not to even look in your direction, fearing for their lives. If you mention it even teasingly, Ryuuji will annoyedly tell you to shut up, not wanting to admit until the last minute that he is jealous and trying hide blushing on his face. He allows contact only with his subordinates and his sister, from which the chance of escape is impossible. Ryuji is unlikely to lay a hand on you, but will deprive you of all privileges until you apologize and make up that for him. A dangerous, jealous and domineering lion that only you have his attention.

As you described, Majima is a chaotic and always unpredictable man who always surprises, even in a bad way. As he was doing with Kiryu, he loves to play cat and mouse with you, searching all over Kamurocho, jumping out to meet you from all corners, even from the sewers! In some cases, he can “play along” with you if you want, or at least pretend that you are both a normal couple, taking part in all sorts of activities. Bowling, billiards, golf and even baseball!? Oh dear, Majima will always approve of your choice if it means spending time with him!

Mmm, about Goromi… Goromi-chan loves her beloved y/n! Always insisting on spending time together: painting your nails, doing your makeup, doing your hair and taking care of your skin, this glamorous queen never misses an opportunity to highlight your beauty. Just imagine, she and you are sitting, chatting sweetly together, while she winks teasingly and flashes her colorful outfit, successfully captivating you with her charm. Just don't look at her cleavage, little naughty darling!

-ˋˏSINCERELY YOURS. . . ->

AA ANON I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, THESE ASK GIVES ME SO MUCH SEROTONIN IJCIWDBHSBHSXB OKAY OKAY LET START NOW EHEHEHEHEHEHE

Our sweet boy Rikiya, is such a sweetie for you, using his aniki's advice he would always act gentlemanly to you, he would carry your bags or walk with you so you would feel safe! He knows full well that his heart only belongs to you and you! His naïve persona makes him so delusional, he dreams of both of you having a domestic dream, maybe he's the one taking care of the kids and when you come back home, he will give you the biggest smile and kiss ever from a husband! He would talk about you for hours no end to his boss and Makio or even his aniki! They can see how in love he is and encourage him to go after you heck even everyone knows how he's so infuriated by you and oh dear if you ever recuperate his feelings he would be with you every single day, no matter how many months or years you two have been together, every time you kiss him, hug him, hold his hand and tell him how much you love him, he feels the same blossoming feelings he felt when he laid eyes on you! He's just a hopeless romantic when it comes to you! He would even change his style just for you! As you said anon, he won't kidnap you but he would guilt trip you into staying with him, he might be a local yakuza but his heart is pure of gold, and you will feel shitty if you decline such a sweet boy.

Aa Ryuji, Ryuji, the man who took my heart from the moment I saw him on my screen. Ryuji the Dragon of Kansai spoils you no matter what, if you just briefly mention it in a hush quiet tone 5 feet away from him, he would buy it. Ryuji may not look like it but he is very observant when it comes to you, just mention something on call like, you bought a bag of chips and you really like the flavor, then expect a whole package of those chips in your door an hour after that call… you never told Ryuji your address though…Anyways! Ryuji is prideful and he likes to boast that logic applies when it comes to you, he will go out in public, and people know how dangerous he is, by you on his side, he makes sure that his arms are around your waist every time, Ryuji isn't scared to show his beloved to anyone and everyone, may it be him kissing you in public or you sitting on his lap in meetings, he doesn't care, plus who even has the balls to tell him not to bring you? And of course, Ryuji is a man of fashion he may not look like it though, so whenever you guys go out he will always bring you to a designer store, and he will make you the most gorgeous woman/person with the diamond on your neck and the fancy clothes he gifs you, this is a way for him to show his love to you and also mark so whoever tries to shoot their shot to you and sees the diamond neckless you have, they must immediately that they have no chance. And I have to pray for the dude who tries to get near you with any kind of intentions, Ryuji doesn't mind killing him with his bare hands, it's in his nature as a Yakuza to kill, but he can't do that. So expect a small rumor of a dude who was found all bloodied up and passed out near a garbage bin where you live. Yes, escape is impossible when you are with Ryuji, his power as a patriarch gives him many men to guard you no matter what, and the only person you're going to meet is his sister, he wants you and Kaoru to have a good relationship. Ryuji has ties to the underground so even if you manage to escape and flee the country he will know where you live and drag you back to Japan but this time with no chance of escape.

The craze mind Majima, always follows you, he loves playing hide and seek when it comes to you, and he loves the expression you make whenever he surprises you when he comes out trashcan. Whenever you were out and you had some small business to attend to Majima would immediately steal you and go to his favorite baseball court or even go bowling. Don't worry about the small thing you gotta attend his minions already handled it. Majima is clingy and possessive, even if you guys aren't dating he's gonna put his arms around you and act like a couple, don't even try to talk to some one when he is watching (which is every second) because you're just putting that person on the line to get killed by Majima. Majima only wants your eyes to look at him only!!

Goromi is a bizarre woman indeed, she only wears flashy clothes so she can be the only person that her beloved (Y/N)-Chan will see in a room!! Like you said, Goromi will have such a fun time with her bestie, she would also be very touchy, like holding your hand, touching your shoulders, or heck even kissing her (Y/N)-Chan very boldly. She will listen to every problem you have and if she ever heard that someone was causing problems with you, then you wouldn't mind seeing your sweet beloved Goromi being rough with them, mh?

#✧- ‘YAKUZA’ ☆#yandere yakuza #yandere rikiya shimbakuro #yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere ryuji goda #ryuji goda #rikiya shimabukuro #yandere majima goro #majima goro #goromi #THESE ASKS HELP ME TRAIN MY WRITING SKILLS THATS WHY I LOVE THEM VERY MUCH!!#yandere yakuza game #yakuza #yakuza x reader #i went off with ryuji😞

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nhl-stories · 1 year

Text

Serotonin – Cale Makar

Summary: Cale is just helping out a friend of a friend in a tough place, he ends up in deeper than he ever imagined.

Author’s Note: Warnings for mentions of substance abuse, suicide attempts, and mental illness. If you're feeling suicidal, please reach out, you can find some resources here

Word Count: 3.8 k

Album Series Masterlist

I get intrusive thoughts Like burning my hair off Like hurting somebody I love

Cale didn’t know what to expect; he was picturing the hospital from One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, which he watched in a college psychology class, and pulling into the parking lot mostly shoots down that theory.

He wipes his palms on his jeans before getting out of the car, grabbing the backpack he was sent to bring.

The building is old and imposing in the way most hospitals are, someone should probably change that, he thinks as he enters the lobby.

The inside is a little warmer and brighter, but he’s immediately met with front desk behind glass and a door he has to be buzzed through to enter, so any comforting vibes are quickly swept away.

“How can I help you,” the nurse has a syrupy sweet voice.

“I’m here to see Morgan Lee, I brought some stuff for them,” Cale holds up the backpack.

“Great, if you can fill out this form,” she opens a door in the window and slides out a clipboard, “and we’ll need to check the bag before you see the patient.”

Cale opens his mouth, not sure if he wants to protest calling Morgan ‘the patient’ or searching the bag.

“It’s just protocol sweetie, we do it for everyone.”

Cale hates being called sweetie.

The bag search takes forever, they go through every pocket, then keep the backpack and hand Cale a box full of its contents before leading him to Morgan’s room.

The facility seems nice, it’s not filled with zombies in matching gowns being handed medication; in fact, it kind of reminds him of a college dorm.

“Morgan, you have a visitor,” the nurse opens the door and calls in before waving Cale in, “you can stay until dinner time, and I’m gonna leave the door open.”

“Oooh open door, Cale you must seem like trouble,” Morgan smiles from the bed.

They’re wearing a hospital gown with a scratchy looking robe over top, those surgery socks with the textured bottoms on their feet. Cale can’t stop staring at the bright green cast on their right arm.

He doesn’t want to stare, make Morgan feel weird, but the situation is weird. He drops the box at the end of the bed.

“I think they’re keeping your backpack,” he lamely adds.

“I told you to put it all in a box,” they start digging through the contents, “you can’t hang yourself with a box.”

There’s a quick intake of air, he doesn’t realize it’s his own until Morgan looks at him with a sad look.

“Sorry, too soon for suicide jokes?”

Cale looks down at his feet, he can feel his cheeks turning pinker than normal. He wants to be a good visitor, not make Morgan walk on eggshells around his own comfort zone.

“I graduated from hospital fashion, so that’s a good sign,” they find a baggy DU sweatshirt and start to change, standing up from the bed and shimmying on a pair of sweats, they look happier and healthier already.

“How long are you gonna be in here?” It’s not the best first question, but anything is better than Cale standing in awkward silence.

“They think 15 more days, depending. I’m mostly through the worst of the withdrawals so it’s all about whether I’m a threat to myself and others.”

Morgan pulls the chair closer to the bed and gestures for Cale to take it before hopping back on the bed, “then it’s all outpatient service.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

“The thing about people with functioning drug and alcohol problems, is you don’t usually know they have a serious problem. It’s kind of the goal.”

Cale can’t believe this is the same person who called him crying a day ago.

“Besides we’re like really, really good acquaintances at best. If you were the first person to figure it out…” Morgan let’s out a heavy sigh, “I don’t know, it doesn’t matter now. I’m here and not being scraped off a sidewalk.”

“Still, sorry it had to get this far.”

Morgan shrugs, “so tell me what’s new with you, how’s the team? Reading any new books? Or any good Costco deals?”

Cale is happy to prattle on, he likes talking to Morgan. They always seemed engaged with whatever he’s saying, even if it’s mundane.

Their friendship is quite new, only really blossoming in the past year when they learned they lived in the same neighborhood. Cale wouldn’t say they were that close, but in the short time Morgan has always taken his book recommendations, happily sharing their thoughts afterwards, sharing their own reads back. They even seem genuinely interested in whatever he found at Costco.

Because he enjoys Morgan’s company so much, it makes him feel a little worse that he didn’t notice anything was wrong. Sitting in a psychiatric hospital for a visit makes him think there must have been red flags he missed.

Eventually the nurse pops her head back in, “Morgan, dinner is in 10, so you and your guest can wrap it up.”

“Thanks for hanging out,” Morgan gives Cale a playful kick in the thigh.

“No problem, I’ll gladly swing by any time I’m free,” he hopes it’s clear he means it.

“And can you do me a favor? Don’t mention this to Jade or Logan please?”

“Oh,” Cale tries to hide his shock, “you don’t think they’ll notice you’re AWOL?”

“One week in Jade will know what’s up, this has happened a few times...” the words feel like they carry the weight of the world, “But I don’t want them to freak out and worry. They’ll try and make me move in with them again.”

“Yeah, I can keep a secret,” his stomach sloshes uncomfortably, he’s not only terrible at deception, his body seems to have an allergic reaction to it.

|||

Cale first met Morgan through OC and his girlfriend, Jade. Jade had been friends with Morgan since high school and they all attended University of Denver together. Morgan had come to a few games and parties, but nothing really made a lasting impression.

Until they won the Stanley Cup.

Morgan seemed to be at every party, doing an incredible job of keeping up with the boys. In hindsight, maybe that’s a red flag in it of itself.

He doesn’t remember most of it, but he distinctly remembers Jade apologizing for Morgan’s behavior the morning after the parade. Cale can’t recall what exactly what they had done, he has a foggy memory of Morgan being a bit of a ragdoll at one point, but nothing too alarming.

Whatever it was, it was apparently bad enough for the grave expressions OC and Jade gave as they apologized. Probably another red flag.

But Morgan was back, maybe a little more subdued, for the festivities the next day. Cale was a bit too drunk to operate his phone and had asked them to help him order an Uber home, Morgan happily obliged and made a delighted noise when they realized Cale was practically their neighbor.

They shared the car and planted the seeds of their friendship.

Cale didn’t get a chance to visit Morgan in the hospital for five days, but OC did question him.

“Hey Cale, have you seen Mo around your hood recently? Jade hasn’t heard from them and she’s getting a little worried.”

“Uhhh–“ the uncomfortable sloshing returns, “Morgan hasn’t been around, but I talked to them the other day, they seem to be doing well.”

It’s not exactly a lie, more of a lie of omission.

“Oh. Good. I’ll pass that along to Jade. I told her she didn’t need to freak out, but they’ve been friends forever and been through some tough times, so she can’t help it sometimes.”

It feels like Logan knows that Cale knows something, or maybe he’s just talking out his own worries about Morgan. Either way, Cale feels a little sicker about not telling the whole truth; he just hopes it’s not showing on his face.

“I’ll let you know if I hear from Morgan again,” he can at least be mostly honest about that.

“Thank for looking out,” Logan claps him on the shoulder before he leaves.

Cale goes to visit Morgan afterwards; he brings his cribbage board because he thinks Morgan will like having an activity, so neither of them will feel obligated to talk.

“We can go outside to play, I’ve been told I’m not taking advantage of the grounds, so I’ll get brownie points from the staff too.”

They find a table in a sunny patch, “Logan asked about you today.”

“Yeah, I have about 24 hours before Jade talks to my parents and then she’ll be here first thing.”

“It’s nice to have someone who cares that much,” Cale feels like he’s stepping into very heavy territory.

“I’m not really the nicest to the people who care about me when I go into self-destruct mode and it’s harder to face someone who loves you despite the things you’ve said or done in the aftermath.

Their eyes start to water, and Cale feels a little guilty.

“Do you know how to play?” He changes the subject.

“Absolutely no clue.”

“That’s fine, I hear that I’m a good teacher.”

Cale has never seen Morgan smile so wide. He’s always thought they had one of those contagious smiles, but he feels a sense of pride in being the cause of it now.

“I suck at this. Are you sure you’re good teacher?”

“There’s definitely a learning curve, plus I’m basically a pro.”

“Wow, is Cale Makar bragging?”

“Is it bragging if it’s true?” Morgan gives him a shove.

They play one more game and Morgan still sucks, but admits they have fun despite that. They have to call it quits because Morgan has group therapy so they head back to their room.

Cale hands over his cribbage board, “you can borrow this, if you want to practice with someone here.”

“I don’t want to take your board; you have a road trip coming up.”

“Don’t worry I have another one.”

“You own two cribbage boards? I was definitely being hustled.”

Cale chuckles, “I don’t think it’s hustling if there are no stakes.”

“A technicality,” Morgan smirks but takes the board nonetheless.

They awkwardly stand in Morgan’s room, just goofily smiling at each other. Not sure if they want to end their time together, even though they have to.

“Do you want to sign my cast?”

“What?”

“If I have a famous autograph, I’ll be the coolest person in group,” Morgan bites back her smile.

“In that case, sure.”

Morgan finds a marker and hands it over. Cale holds their cast, dangerously close to brushing their fingers while he signs.

“Thanks, I’ll see you after your road trip?”

“Yeah, rematch?”

Morgan gives a thumbs up and a wave as Cale leaves.

|||

“You little rat!”

Cale whips his head over to the voice in the hallway, but feels a punch in his arm before he can identify the voice.

“Cale Makar, I thought you were a nice boy,” Jade comes into focus in the hallway after the game, she’s fuming and Cale wonders if she’s been letting this fester for the whole hockey game.

He can assume what she’s mad about, but he can’t seem to wipe the dumbfounded look off his face as he stares.

“You signed her cast, and you didn’t tell me or Logan where she was? What the actual fuck.”

She punches him a few more times for emphasis.

The other guys trickling out of the locker room can’t help but stare, it’s not a normal occurrence for Cale to get yelled at by anyone.

Logan finally emerges and tries to calm his girlfriend down, or at least stop her from causing a scene.

“She made me promise not tell.”

“Oh, well then that’s okay, people in psychiatric hospitals notably have good judgement.”

Cale winces.

“Jade honey, don’t blame Cale.”

Jade let’s out a huff, like she’s still not sure.

“We should be glad Mo is reaching out to someone, instead of pushing everyone away,” OC reasons.

“Fine, I guess I’ll forgive you,” a small smile begins to form, “you seem to be a good influence, Mo made a friend in the hospital, and they’ve never done that before. And because of cribbage of all things.”

Cale feels his face heat up. He’s been called a good influence dozens of times in his life, but this one makes him feel giddy.

“Keep it up is what I’m saying. You’re in the trenches with us now, especially when Morgan is back in the real world.”

“Yeah of course, I think I graduated from really, really good acquaintance to actual friend.”

Then Jade pulls him into a tight hug, making a full 180 in the span of a single conversation.

|||

Cale comes from home from a road trip and finds Morgan sitting against the door to his place.

“Should I be concerned or excited for this visit?” He tries to keep it light, but his heart is racing with legitimate concern.

“I didn’t escape from the mental institution if that’s what you’re thinking, I got released three days ago.”

Morgan stands up so Cale can unlock his door.

“It’s just I took a leave of absence from school and in hindsight that may have been a mistake.”

“Yeah? I didn’t even finish college so I’m not exactly well-informed on grad school, but I can’t imagine missing two weeks is that easy to make up especially near the end of the semester.”

“That was my reasoning, but it’s only been three days and my schedule is a little too open.”

They follow Cale into the apartment, and flop onto the couch like they own the place. Cale feels the need to keep an eye on Morgan but also doesn’t want to be suffocating and he has luggage to put away and laundry to start.

Morgan keeps going on like they just need to talk so Cale goes about his business while he listens.

“I can only go to so much therapy or meetings and I don’t have a new sponsor yet, and all my friends except you and Logan have real jobs, so I’m feeling a bit aimless. Maybe I should pick up a hobby.”

“Maybe you could pick more shifts at work,” Cale decides chores can wait a bit and flops down on the couch next Morgan, picking up their legs to rest across his.

“Well I work at a bar, which is great for hiding alcoholism, not great for sobriety.”

“Yikes, probably not. What did you do in the past?”

“Throw myself into school or lie about getting sober.”

“Right,” Cale feels a bit out of his depth here, “Want to go on a hike?”

“Like right now? Didn’t you just get back from a road trip, shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I’m not gonna make you climb a mountain,” he stands up and offers his hands to help Morgan up, “exercise gives you endorphins.”

“Isn’t that from Legally Blonde?”

Cale can feel his ears burning but notices Morgan is flushing too, he realizes they’re still holding hands, neither making the first move to let go.

And that’s how Cale finds his off time filled with trails around Denver. Sometimes just the two of them, not really talking, just heavy breathing and enjoying the views. Sometimes with OC and Jade, which weirdly makes Cale’s nervous, it’s somehow more intimate than when it’s just Morgan and himself.

His heart sings when Morgan sends him a picture of a hike, they took on their own, or with some people from group, or Jade. He likes knowing they’re filling their time with something; that he’s a good influence, a good friend even when he can’t physically be involved.

And he can’t help but want Morgan involved in his life too. It’s why on one of their “double date” hikes he finally gets the courage to ask.

“You want to come to our next home game Mo?”

Morgan is still gasping a bit from the last incline they hiked up, but they smile through it regardless.

Jade is the first to speak up, “It’s a playoff game, will that be too much for you?”

“I don’t know, but I can’t come anyway. I’m getting my 30-day chip that night.”

“Oh fuck, Mo I completely forgot. I wanted us to be there to celebrate with you,” Jade pouts.

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“No that’s a huge deal, congrats,” Cale smiles through his selfish disappointment.

“Jade, it’s okay if you miss the game,” Logan adds, his own disappointment shining through a bit too, the whole conversation becoming a bit of a downer.

“It’s not the first time I’ve been a month sober, go cheer on our team for me Jade. And I’ll go to the next game,” Jade makes a noise of concern, “and if it’s too much I leave early to go to a meeting or something.”

“Fine, but I’m still getting you a cake to celebrate on another day.”

It turns out a game and a playoff game on top of that is too much. Morgan barely makes it through the first before they have to excuse themselves.

They text Cale: Sorry I’m too lame to hang, but still screaming and cheering in spirit

Cale can’t help but feel sad when he isn’t greeted by Morgan, watching everyone else get celebratory hugs from loved one feels like a stab in the gut. Jade gives him a hug that makes him a feel a bit pathetic.

“We’re going to Mo’s for some ice cream cake if you want to join, I know they’d like you there.”

He feels a little less pathetic and feels something warm make its home behind his sternum.

|||

They win the next game but then it seems to all go to shit.

He doesn’t mean for the hit to be that bad. He could make excuses about the heat of the game; about the blood that buzzes in his ears that makes him so singularly focused on the ice. But it doesn’t change what happens, how it looks in the replay. It looks bad, it is bad, and yeah, he probably deserves the suspension he gets.

It doesn’t help that they lose the game, in OT of all things.

He’s angry and blames himself for all the team’s problems, deep down he knows it’s irrational, he just can’t help it.

Morgan calls him, their name flashing on his phone would usually cause his heart to skip a beat, but he’s just tired. He answers anyway.

“Hey, how are you?”

There’s no pity or even concern in their voice, just a normal greeting like Morgan doesn’t know what happened. He’s torn between relief and anger.

He grunts in response.

“Ooh, never a good greeting.”

“Any reason you called?” He doesn’t recognize his own voice with the tone that comes out on its own accord.

“Just wanted to catch up, see if you wanted to hang out or something. Get your mind off the playoffs for a bit.”

“Don’t you have your own problems to worry about? Fix yourself before getting in my business,” he snaps before he can stop himself.

He wants to be angry; he wants to wallow in his frustration and disappointment. Morgan just happens to be the first person he can target it at.

“Oh. Justdon’tbetoohardonyourself,” they spit the last bit out in one word before hanging up.

Cale has even more reason to be hard on himself now. He gets a sick enjoyment from picking at his wounds rather than licking them.

But the guilt weighs on him.

It weighs on him when OC sends a glare his way during practice, clearly hearing how Cale acted towards Morgan.

It weighs on him when he gets back into the lineup, even when he has two points on the board.

It weighs on him as he sits in stall and stares at his hands, having lost the series. It feels like everything went wrong because of him, and he hates that there is a degree of truth in that thought.

When he finally feels like he’s mentally beat himself up enough in the locker room, he gets up to beat himself up more at home.

Morgan is there sitting against his door. Cale thinks of turning around and running, but since he’s being a glutton for punishment at the moment, he faces this head on.

“Sorry about the game, sucks,” Morgan stands up and hugs him.

Before he knows it, he’s hugging them back and crying.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs out, knowing it’s not enough but all he can give right now.

“It’s okay,” they rub his back, their cast feeling weirdly soothing.

“It’s not, that was a really shitty thing to do.”

“If anyone knows about lashing out when things are bad, it’s me. You’re forgiven.”

Morgan pulls away and gives him a reassuring smile, Cale wants to believe that he’s forgiven. They seem to sense that.

“Seriously Cale. Right before I went to rehab the first time, Jade had threatened to tell my parents about my problems, so I told her if she did that she would never find another friend because she was completely unlovable and I only kept her around because of how pathetic she was.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, doesn’t make it okay to say those things, it’s been like a decade I’m still trying to make it up to Jade, but you’re forgiven for letting your emotions get the better of you.”

“At least you had drugs to blame it on, that was all me,” Cale smirks, before he widens his eyes, realizing how fucked up that was to say.

But Morgan bursts out into a laugh, it feels like winning in a miniscule way.

“Now we’re real friends,” they ruffle his hair, “an acquaintance would never feel comfortable enough to make that joke.”

The word friend doesn’t sit quite right with Cale, like wearing a shirt that’s a size too small.

Morgan grabs his hand and gives it a squeeze, “I’m glad we’ll be on good terms before you go back to Calgary.”

He grabs their fingers peeking out of the cast and takes a big swing, “Calgary has some good trails around, if you feel like getting away for a bit, we can celebrate 60 days of sobriety.”

Morgan is trying to bite back a smile, “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

They stand in the hallway, grinning at each other like dopes and holding hands. Neither wanting to say goodbye but not really sure what to do next.

Then Morgan kisses him. It’s not quite a peck yet not quite a deep, passionate kiss. It’s something different: tender and meaningful.

“I’m not really supposed to date anyone for a year,” Cale furrows his brows in response.

“It’s an NA/AA thing, we’re supposed to focus on recovery and ourselves before we start putting energy towards other people.”

“Oh, yeah that’s–” Cale tries to hide his disappointment.

“But you’ll be the first person I call when I get there,” they intertwine their fingers, “cause maybe you can graduate from friend to something more.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” neither one can wipe the stupid grin off their face.

#cale makar #cale makar imagine #cale makar fic #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagines #colorado avalanche fic #hockey imagines #nhl #hockey #nhl imagines #hockey fics #nhl stories #non binary oc

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chaotic-tired-cat · 1 year

Text

AO3 is down, have a scene to fuel yourself in the meantime

summary: adult hero eldritch!Izuku vs. government sniper: FIGHT

World Walker spoilers below the cut. also tw for guns. all you need to know is that he’s baiting the hpsc for funsies and spite. uuuuh for new folks, take dimension travel and make it cosmic horror, thats Cryptid’s quirk. Cheers and i hope u enjoy!!

Takihiro really does not care much about heroes, but his best friend has a hyperfixation and therefore he must fuel it. This used to mean sending a video every time an underground hero walked down the sketchy alley his window looks over, so Shin could scream in a combination of capital letters and paragraphs.

Takihiro may have set up his desk at the window so he'd notice passerbys for this exact reason. He may have gotten a better camera. He also may have ended up calling in enough petty robbery and assault to make him very distrustful of his neighborhood, with a side effect of attracting so many heroes to his alleyway. It's definitely a stop on their patrol routes. Now he just turns on a video call and listens to Shin experiencing serotonin like clockwork.

The infodumping he gets nightly is fantastic.

So when he sees movement, it's a habit to check for a familiar costume. He lets Shin know the nightly entertainment is happening and flips his camera. They were already on call studying anyway.

"That's Cryptid!" Shin yells in his ear, like it isn't Thursday on the Iidaten patrol route. It's either Mindblank or Cryptid, every time. Wednesday is a little more unpredictable- yesterday Zookeeper made judgmental faces at the dumpsters and swept the whole place with her cleaning quirk. It must have been a slow night.

Shin happily recites his internal Wikipedia page on Cryptid as Takihiro procrastinates finishing a paper. Outside, the hero has stopped to stare at the weirdly sterilized alley suspiciously. It's a good night.

"And that's only after the Chaos Crew merged with Iidaten," Shin is saying as Cryptid finally starts moving again. It's kind of funny. He's sticking to the shadows as if the dumpsters are about to jump him. "Since then, the core members have taken up leading positions. Uravity heads their rescue department and Mindblank heads the Undergrounds. I think Ingenium actually is their Daylight spokesperson while Cryptid is their Underground media person, so-"

A gun fires.

Cryptid stumbles.

Takihiro flinches violently back from the window, scattering pens and highlighters across his desk. He ducks and fumbles with the desk lamp until it turns off.

"Was that-"

"Yeah," Takihiro whispers, caught between retreating further into his apartment and staying to watch. He taps the record button on his laptop, grabs his phone, and is about to shuffle backwards when Cryptid reaches out and claws open the air in a wide swipe. A second later, the hero casually drops something into a small bag and seals it.

"The bullet," Shin whispers as Cryptid tucks the evidence bag into one of his regulation belt compartments.

"I was wondering," the hero calls as he searches for something amidst the tall buildings, "when they'd cross this line. Is a blood sample really worth this kind of risk?"

"Holy shit, he's about to monologue," Shin says. "Dude, go to your kitchen or something. He only does this when the villain can hear him. You don’t want to get caught up in some kind of long-range quirk."

"How does he know they're close, though?" Takihiro mutters as he switches speakers.

"I bet he uses his portals to see. Are you safe?"

"I'm going, I'm going-"

Four more shots fire in quick succession. One visibly hits the wall behind the hero, shattering brick.

Cryptid hacks out a laugh. It's an awful sound. Tired and frustrated, like a wild animal that's bolted through a maze only to find itself cornered. Takihiro stays frozen as Cryptid bends forward with starlight bursting from the darkness around him. Limbs lengthen further, unseen wind buffets nebula-dusted hair, and the hero's spine curls. He tips his head back, straightening up again, but his posture is now decidedly unnatural. There is something wrong with his eyes.

There is something wrong with all of him, really.

"There are easier ways to buy blood," Cryptid says in a voice that physically shudders through the air. His head turns, the movement eerily smooth, and his face becomes visible.

Takihiro's breath freezes in his lungs as the most villainous hero he's ever seen stares down a sniper. Cool gold has begun to well up from the hollow places his eyes should be. Instead, there rests galaxies. Metallic light drips in a perfect line down each cheek and falls straight through the concrete below him.

Cryptid is the second-most villainous looking hero according to the HPSC’s official polls. He is only that far down because pushback against anti-mutation quirk feelings have made the poll itself unpopular, so the generation that grew up with Gang Orca vote more often.

Takihiro is now a little sure that the people who vote for Cryptid were maybe on to something.

"I am not made to die easy." Cryptid's voice has gone terribly gentle. "And neither are you. So why court a fate that does not suit you, friend?"

Brick shatters again under the force of a bullet that must've nearly clipped him. The hero didn't even flinch.

"You're afraid," Cryptid notes casually. Thick black sludge wells up between needle-sharp teeth, splattering to the ground in uneven clumps that do not match the tears. "I'm sorry if it's because of me. Hawks should have warned you - I told him not to get close if he wanted to kill me. Did your labs fail to make sense of what he took? Or is this hubris and greed the aftermath of success?"

"What the fuck," Shin says. Takihiro is a little preoccupied with the way Cryptid has begun to drool. sludge puddles outwards at his feet with twin lines of gold tears mixed in. The concentric circles ripping out are faintly hypnotic in that he is awefully aware of something alive down there that's trying to break past the pattern to get at them all.

Another bullet fires. It doesn't seem to impact anything.

"You're far too close, friend." Lips pull back to reveal sharpened teeth in a smile that dumps ice down Takihiro's spine. "The only thing you'd kill is my humanity. I'd rather not find out what the rest of me will do without that."

Cryptid pauses then.

Somehow, his expression turns unbearably sad.

"The hollow parts of me are not made of things that enjoy being controlled," he says to the rooftop. "It will linger. Go home to your plants and parents, friend. Live well in your borrowed time. And water your shiso before you both meet the earth too early."

"He did not just stop his own assassination with a bluff," Takihiro says.

He did.

Another last bullet fires, absorbed into the pattern at Cryptid’s feet.

It’s a cold night.

Pale yellow light catches the outline of the hero’s shoulders amidst shapeless blue shadows.

Cryptid stays in that alley, waiting, as he tracks movement beyond the window's sightline. He stays there until whatever he's watching has moved towards downtown.

Then he sighs.

Eerie posture reverts back into the wary stance he arrived with. The steady drop of gold and black halts, and the puddle dries up in seconds. Cryptid swipes the back of his hand over his mouth, then his other hand across his cheek. His grimace bares almost normal-sized teeth.

"I am on shift for thirty more minutes," the hero tells his smeared gloves. "Thirty minutes until I can put a dragon hatchling in Kacchan's desk, and have a different, more immediate problem to deal with."

Cryptid stares at his gloves.

"I should not do this," he says abruptly.

"You really should," Shin whispers. Cryptid's head snaps up, eyes immediately finding Takihiro's window.

He points.

On instinct, Takihiro points back.

"Next time, don't stay by your window when there are villains around," the hero calls, still posed like some kind of Spiderman meme. Takihiro awkwardly stops mimicking Cryptid, because pointing is rude and this is a hero no matter how unhinged he may be. "Everything okay?"

Takihiro nods over the sound of Shin hyperventilating, and leans past his laptop. "Yeah, sorry about that. Hey, can I get an autograph?"

Shin squeaks.

"My friend is a fan."

#i do these to fgure out where i want the characters to go but now i have an epilouge fic #so take a scene while we wait for the beloved (ao3) to return from the war (overwhelmed? grl me too lmao)#world walker #my fic #tired cat writes #fic snippet

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masaru2042 · 1 year

Note

Can I just say that I've been reading your fan fiction (though let's face it at this point it might as well be an officially published series of novels by Blizzard) Tectonic Divergence, and it has been a wonderful time! Absolutely incredible work!

I was looking through some old posts of yours and found one saying you were originally planning for Jaina to be Neltharion's love interest. I can't express how much I agree with and sympathize with you in that post. Jaina would've been an AMAZING fit for our dear Squishy, and it's sad you felt so pressured to put our poor boy with Callia Menethil of all people all for the sake of some people's precious "lore accuracy".

Personally I'd have just said fuck it and gone for it anyway, but this meant to be a message of praise, not something to drum up toxic old memories.

I'll admit I've had quite a bit of brainrot regarding Jaina/Neltharion thanks to that post and have even dreamt up some short one-shots for the pair. I've even thought up a quick animatic to the song "Lima Bean Man" by Jack Stauber. I can so perfectly envision Neltharion hearing about Theramore and just wailing as he sees the smoldering remains, frantically searching through the rubble to try to find Jaina like "She can't be dead! SHE CAN'T BE DEAD!!!"

(Also having Post-Mana Bomb Jaina in Wyrmrest Keep with Alexstrasza herself tending to Jaina's injuries and recovery, Ysera happily talking her definitely soon-to-be sister-in-law's ear off and warding off nightmares, and Neltharion being the big squishy sweetheart we know and love fumbling with a little spoon in his big claws as he tries to spoon-feed Jaina soup gives me so much Serotonin)!

Regardless of what could have been, I want you to know that your works have genuinely touched me and inspired me. Keep up the good work!

Thanks for loving my stories. You’re not the only one who thinks they might as well be published works. I try to make them that good.

Yeah I wanted Jaina as Nel’s love interest. They have better chemistry together and in Warchief they do get together to terrorize Garrosh. But my critics wanted Calia so I delivered.

#neltharion #deathwing #world of warcraft #black dragon #dragon #fanfic

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awesomeuchuu · 1 year

Text

@universalcrossover

Having just gotten out of school for the day, Haru was heading straight to Kashinoki Books to meet up with the rest of his friends at their secret base. That was until he noticed a commotion going on at the local park.

A bunch of kids seemed to be gather around on what appears to be a stage while parents were watching them from the sidelines. Becoming curious, Haru went over to get a closer look as he watched the performers on stage doing their thing. "I wonder what's going on over there."

His Buddy, Gatchmon appeared next to Haru as a hologram via his Appmon Chip, examining the live event with his magnifying glass and searched up the details.

"It's a hero show! They're shown a lot in Japan as entertainment to help give children more hope in the world. Looks like today, it's performed by a group of people known as Ryuseitai. We should stay and watch them, Haru!"

"Hero show?" The others won't mind, right? Well... except for Eri probably. Although, Haru couldn't help but become intrigued by it. Maybe this can give him inspiration and confidence boost to be a better protagonist. A big smile appeared on his face as he shouted out loud to the heroes on stage.

"Go get them! You can do it, guys!!" Was it embarrassing? Probably, but he was too immersed right now to realize.

Chiaki could feel sweat gather at his hairline and some of it dripped down on his face and down his neck. This was the best feeling ever, when he, Kanata and the kids gave their absolute best performing and the cheers of the little kids watching them was like pure serotonin injected straight into his veins, giving him an immense energy boost. Of course, he did his best to stay in character as MeteoRed, beating the bad guys while singing and dancing, sometimes being beat down of course because then they had to get help from the audience so everyone could triumph together.

It was what being alive was truly about.

One voice stood out to him though and he couldn't help but shoot a quick glance into the audience, spotting a green-haired boy who seemed a good deal older than your average Ryuseitai fan, and Chiaki grinned, sparing a moment to wave enthusiastically at the boy.

"Chiaki, focus..." Kanata whispered under his breath in passing, but winked playfully at the boy who stood out in the crowd before slipping back into his role as MeteoBlue.

Eventually the show was over and Kanata waited patiently as Chiaki said his thanks to the audience and gave a small speech about the power of friendship and unity and how they'd come calling whenever people in need reached out to them.

"This was fun," Kanata said after the curtain calls were over and the crowd started to disperse. They should go change, but there was no hurry and shows like these always left Kanata feeling drained. He sat down on the stage, soon enough joined by Chiaki who began to fuss over him.

"Maybe I should get you some water?" There was a risk that Kanata would get dizzy and maybe faint if he had exerted himself too much, after all. Chiaki definitely didn't want that!

#universalcrossover #the proof of mystery (kanata)#the sun of life (chiaki)

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asjjohnson · 1 year

Text

Wait...

I said something to someone about when I have headaches there's one aspect that's similar to motion sickness; then decided to look up whether there could be a tie between the two.

...Apparently both headaches and motion sickness can be linked to low levels of serotonin?

And serotonin levels are lowest in the middle of the night, and when I have headaches I usually wake up with it?

And low serotonin involves feeling tired?

And serotonin involves the heart? Like, if your heart is doing weird stuff like skipping beats, it could be from low serotonin?

And it sounds like both can deal with stress or feelings of relief? (I've noticed relief sometimes causes a headache)

...And serotonin levels are related to sunlight and I've had curtains closed to keep out the summer heat.

(yesterday I was feeling particularly tired, and my head started hurting very, very slightly after dark. Just enough to keep me awake at night, and I decided to try taking something I'd gotten as a toilet tank cleaner (because it's multi-usage) but I don't think it helped much. It wasn't bad, though, not even sure if it was really a headache, but it did involve a little bit of that motion sickness feeling.

(People usually jump to 'migraine' at any mention of headaches, but I never thought it sounded like migraines because those have some really specific symptoms. And because tension headaches sound more similar to what I have sometimes. I think this is the first time in awhile that I've had a (possible) headache. Might be the sunlight thing... I think next time I see a doctor I'll ask if there's a serotonin test.)

(warning: I don't guarantee anything I've said is true. It's just what I came across when I did a few quick Internet searches.)

#...about the only thing that doesn't match is low serotonin messing up your circadian rhythm while my internal clock is Very accurate.

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librawithoutbalance · 1 year

Text

will I find myself again?

for the final hour of jimin day, I'm here to celebrate with a quick story draft inspired by like crazy. the catch? every single lyric is included.

Tonight is not out of the ordinary. I had decided that I didn't want to sit alone in my apartment any longer and am now en route to find temporary relief from the daily monotony. At least when I'm drunk I don't need to think about how I haven't felt like myself for a while. Since I was young, I've been reaching for the stars, constantly striving for more and more approval. But the more approval I seek from others, the more I lose myself. Now, when I look in the mirror, I can't even recognize all my reflections. There's a gap somewhere within me that I cannot quite pinpoint. As much as I wish it worked, trying to take the pressure off is useless anyways because each night ends the same. The buzz is just a pseudo-happiness that is effective, but so painfully temporary. What's the point?

That's a question I can answer another time. For the time being, I find myself in search of liquid serotonin like usual, but what I don't expect is to see you, all alone, tucked away in an alley near my usual destination. You're a shining beauty with an aura made of stars, and I know without a doubt that I'm out of my mind and hallucinating. Common sense is screaming at me. She's saying I'm delusional, to keep walking, maybe look into seeing a psychiatrist. I listen and I know she's right, but her voice isn't convincing enough to make me walk away. Especially not after you reach your hand in my direction, a soft golden smile covering your face.

"Baby," you said, coaxing me towards you. "Come and follow me."

I'm moving in your direction against my own volition, but my survival instincts are fighting with me. You must notice my hesitation. As soon as I'm within reach, you go ahead and take my hand in yours. This first touch seems surreal and, as corny as it sounds, magical. My fragile emotions on ice begin to melt and flood into my system, but they are not overwhelming. Surprisingly, it's calming, to feel so many emotions accompanied by the warm heat of your touch. You spin me up high, so high, just by your grip on my hand.

"Who...who are you?" I'm trying to reason with why I feel so safe with you, a hallucination. But how can a hallucination feel so real?

You keep smiling, taking my other hand in yours. "I'm Phero."

Your voice is sweet and relaxing, and I can't help but let the tears out of my eyes. For the first time, with your hands in mine and my emotions taking over, I grapple with the fact that everything hurts. I didn't realize just how much until right now, when you made me feel. Your thumbs start tracing circles on the backs of my hands.

"I know," you sigh.

I don't quite understand. "You know?"

"Yeah, I know."

I blow a breath out, trilling my lips. "Can you help me numb the pain?"

"Well that's why I'm here, isn't it?"

I nod, even though I have no idea why you are here. My next exhale is a shutter as your fingers trace up my arms affectionately. In the back of my mind, I can hear the voices listening to everything; the voices of all the people who have deemed themselves the judges of my life. I don't know who they are, but they're powerful. They always have been. Right now, though, I'm not quite sure I care. This feels so right, and the more you touch me, the more I'm falling in this dream. Soon, my face is in your hands and your voice is in my ear again.

"Why are you so nervous, baby?" Your fingers brush the hair out of my eyes before returning to my cheeks. "There's not a bad thing here tonight, I promise. It's just you and me, no need to be nervous."

My lips are trembling as I whisper, "I don't know if I should."

You giggle, a bright and airy noise, and the gap between us shrinks. "You don't need a reason. Save your reasons all for later, darling. Come with me."

"Where would we go?"

You press impossibly closer to me, your aura now warming by body from head to toe. Pushing up onto your toes, you bring your eyes to meet mine, and I get lost in the galaxy swimming around in them. In my daze, you turn my head to the side so that you can put your lips directly against my ear. "Just trust me."

I say I do, and your chuckle fills my ear. "It's going to be a good night."

You wrap your arms around my body and pull, and now I sink down with you, through time and space. It's almost dizzying, seeing the world shift around us like we were bending the continuum. I could get lost in here, but for some reason, I know I'm secure in your hold. Just when I start to think this is all there is, time finally ceases to exist, and our feet touch the ground. We're in a never-ending space made of morphing colors and shapes. Vibrant blobs of various colors and sizes are growing, shrinking, splitting, and colliding all around us like holiday fireworks. It's just you and I here, surrounded by colors I never thought I'd have the pleasure to get to know.

My voice echoes back when I ask, "where am I?"

You let go of my body. "Your Paradise."

"Is this a dream?"

I had meant for that thought to stay inside my head, but you save me any embarrassment when you answer without judgement.

"How do you define a dream?" You aren't looking for an answer. You gesture out towards the space, encouraging me to explore. The absurdity of the situation doesn't escape me, but I brush that aside. If I am dreaming or hallucinating, the worst this can do is give me a good ride.

You watch me go as I wander the space. At first I just walk away, dodging the blobs whenever they come flying near me. After some time, I start paying attention to what these ever-changing entities actually are. It's an odd observation, but I see myself in the colors and in the shapes, but not me as I stand today. The me that's here is so foreign that I don't even know how I recognized them as myself. Out of pure curiosity, I reach out and grab at the large fuchsia blob flowing to my left, and I giggle. Purely elated giggles. It's warm, like you are, but when it tickles my skin, I decide that I never want to let go. The comfort of it brings inexplicable joy that washes over my body in waves and makes its home there.

When I'm worried that I've gone too far, I turn back to you, my solace, and you're right there behind me, with that same glowing smile on your face. With one nod of your head, I turn back and grab the next blob that comes by. It's shining like an amethyst, and having it wrapped around my hand only amplifies the high.

I cry out in happy laughter as the shapes begin to consume me, and rather than fighting it, I rejoice. From the outside looking in, one might assume that this is suffocating, but that couldn't be further from the truth. It was like I was finally free. I am lost in the lights and in the colors, and it feels so refreshing. I suddenly understand why I recognized myself in here. I'm surrounded by the me that I am meant to be, and I never want us to separate again. How can I? I'd rather be here. I'm feeling so alive, wasting time in this Paradise.

I'm climbing higher and higher, soaking in the utter euphoria when, out of nowhere, a dark haze clouding up my eyes takes over. I wonder if this will break me if I don't brush it away, so I reach up to do so before it becomes too powerful. It doesn't make a difference, because you're all over me, pulling me out of the lights I had grown so accustomed to and into darkness. When we're flying through space and time again, I realize you're pulling me back to reality and I am now I am certain that this is going to break me.

I begin to push against you, thrashing in your hold, sobbing into your shoulder. No matter how much I do, your hold doesn't break, it only grows tighter.

"Shh..." You say into my ear. "I'm saving you."

"Don't save me. N-no! Don't you wake me. Don't you try to save me." Like a toddler, I'm kicking and punching you, desperate to escape so that I can fall back and find Paradise again, but you won't give up. You let me have a taste and now you're taking me away when you said you'd help. Why won't you just help?

My body slams into a comforter, and without looking, I know I'm lying in my bed. Your arms are pressed against my chest, keeping me right where I am.

"Please," I'm begging through tears. "I want to stay. Please stay with me a little while longer."

"I cannot," you say plainly.

"But...I need a way we-" I'm forced to swallow the lump of tears in my throat as my chest heaves up and down. "I need a way we can dream on." Despite my visceral negative reaction up to this point, you still have the same sweet and gentle smile, which brings a little comfort as you shake your head no. I can't help but feel small and weak and pitiful. My admission is nothing more than a whisper:

"I'm afraid that everything will disappear."

You begin rubbing circles against my heart to soothe me. "I think we could last forever, but you don't need to stay in this dream to do that. You can find that here."

"Tell me..." I reach up and cover your hands with my own as I realize there's no point in fighting anymore. All I can do right now is savor your warmth while I still have it here. "Will I find myself again?"

"You will if you want, but you have to let go." Using one hand to hold me face, you press a soft kiss to my forehead. I close my eyes, soaking in the feeling for one last time. "Remember, baby, it's forever, you and I."

In one go, you pull away and leave me alone again, and I take my first breath.

#writeblr #bts #jimin

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looye29 · 2 years

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Longing to go back to your fit and lean days? Want to party, wine, and dine without having to gain those ugly pounds? It has to be noted that weight loss is never an easy task. It requires a lot of self-motivation and grit to stay away from binge eating. Weight loss should be as simple as "eat less, exercise more". We all know by now it's just not that straightforward! Although I'm sure each of you wishes that it was! So, punishing workouts and highly restrictive diets may not be the answer at all. What do you do if you are stuck in a weight-loss trap? It is indeed the need of the hour to find a solution that is easy to follow and yields quick results. An ideal solution is a support system to make the weight loss process easy and less frustrating – that’s what we all need. In this quest, here I review the Alive weight loss supplement which claims to significantly speed up and improve the weight loss process and also helps you stay motivated at all times till your goal is achieved. What is Alive Alive is a metabolic booster and works to burn the calories from your body each day. It keeps the energy levels up, the body active and energetic, and there is no weakness felt which is usually the case with other weight loss supplements. Alive is a dietary formula created with an interesting blend of ingredients such as guarana, fenugreek, green tea extract, capsaicin, and others that help in weight loss. The effects of these ingredients stay all through the day, and so there is no impact on energy or mood. Alive is a vegan and herbal supplement. How it Works Theacrine, a major component of Alive, helps in weight reduction and is used in many other medicines for a long time. It helps in maintaining body weight, thereby ensuring improved fitness. Green tea extract is a powerful ingredient of Alive. Green tea is a known powerful antioxidant and promotes blood sugar regulation, blood pressure, and controls cholesterol. Guarana is yet another component that helps in suppressing the genes producing fat cells. African mango helps in controlling fat absorption and utilization as it improves the insulin response and lipid profile. It contains essential minerals such as vitamins, iron, calcium, and fatty acids. TeaCrine is yet another ingredient from plant sources. It helps in increasing your stamina and strength even when you are losing weight. The recommended dosage is two capsules a day. You have to take the capsules every day for the best results. You can take it during breakfast and get the best from your resultant high energy levels in the mornings. You will not have any side reactions as has been proven in most cases. You can always follow your diet and exercise regime. Alive helps in: Supporting your weight loss program Improving dopamine production and its levels Reduces hunger and prevents binge eating Reducing weight easily Working as a complete health booster and Improves mental health All you need is 5 seconds needed in the morning – just enough time to pop the pills. There’s no impact on the daily routine and your work schedule Alive contains ingredients that are metabolic boosters naturally. Toxins, waste materials, and inflammation are removed from your body. Dopamine is the cause of all your mood swings, and Alive pills control the levels of dopamine and serotonin. This helps in you feeling ZERO fatigue and stress. The product helps in burning glucose and generates energy in you. The capsules are made of ingredients that are 100% pure and remove the excess fat accumulated in various parts of your body by penetrating deep into the bloodstream to convert the fat cells into energy. They are prepared under the supervision of highly experienced researchers who ensure that you do not become addicted to the same. The sudden food cravings will be reduced for you. Many of your health issues will also be sorted out. Pros Improves metabolic activity Relieves digestion problems

Helps in reducing the weight and converting fat cells into energy Enhances physical performance Regulates blood pressure, cholesterol, and glucose levels Supplying essential minerals and nutrients Improves brain activity and production of dopamine hormones Reduces the craving for junk food containing fat Capsules available in different quantities 100% money-back guarantee within 60 days if no effect found Cons The custom keto diet plan has its downside. Here is what I felt is challenging about the program: Can be purchased from their official website only Pregnant women or people with other medical conditions should not use Doctor’s consultation needed before starting the product Not suitable for those below 18 years of age Though made of natural ingredients, drug interactions and negative reactions are possible My verdict When you start searching the internet for weight reduction regimes, you will come across countless supplements and programs that claim success. Of course, you need to always keep in mind that most of them come with side effects and some adverse impact on health. However, Alive seems different. There are no reported side effects or impact on your general health. In fact, you will feel more energized and active throughout the day. Once you start taking Alive capsules regularly, you will start noticing the effect within a short time. Even though many of you may be aware of the fact that plant extracts do help in weight reduction, you may not know which plants help you best. You should find out which ones are safe if used every day. Alive makes your search easy as it contains extracts of natural ingredients you can take without any hesitation or hassle. The natural ingredients of Alive help in your weight reduction easily and without any issues as they are pure and effective on your system. They go deep into your body to convert the fat cells into energy. Prepared under the supervision of researchers, the product contains no toxins or any harmful substances and is not addictive too. Alive works on your body to improve your immunity and increase your energy levels. It has no reported long-term or short-term side effects and can be used for as long as you want. In the weight loss space, Alive seems to be an effective solution. I rate it 5 stars and definitely worth a shot!

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michaelmilligan · 2 years

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Where is that cat with the brain and 'Why is it no do' meme, because I'm really feeling that today. :/

#Have not been able to make myself do more than 2 min taks #Like... one every hour or so #And it's not like I'm really doing anything fun instead #I just sit here scrolling tumblr hunting for quick lil serotonin bursts #Maybe it's the depression maybe it's Maybelene #Or however you spell that #Anywayyyy tumblr's search function does not get me what I want so I cannot find the meme

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deskofninak · 3 years

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Daylight // Peter Maximoff x GN!Reader

i don’t wanna look at anything else now that i saw you

Masterlist // Series Masterpost

Summary: Five times Peter Maximoff realises he’s in love with his partner but doesn’t say anything and the one time they do.

Notes: Fluff (too much), kissing, issues with self-esteem, too much smiling, Peter and reader are 18 and living at the X-Mansion, reader’s powers aren’t mentioned, we’re just going to ignore the fact that nerf guns didn’t exist in the 70s.

Word count: 3392 | 6 sections

Let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist.

It had been a long training day and Peter was exhausted. Yes, it was super cool to be part of the X-Men but it was also super exhausting to be part of the X-Men. That’s what they didn’t tell you when they made you sign up. He’d been holding back on the urge to grab Professor X, run to Egypt and leave him there, the old bastard.

Quiet, Peter, came the voice in his voice. Peter huffed. Of course, the telepath had heard that while ignoring all his other pleas during the past five hours to let him go rest.

I’m letting you go back now, came the exasperated response.

Peter pouted and left, arriving in his dorm room less than a second later. You were seated on the floor, books and loose sheets spread out around you, nose scrunched in confusion. You two had been dating for some months now and yet, every time he looked at you, his breath was knocked out of his chest. He allowed himself that one second before you noticed him, allowed it to linger as long as possible, his eyes scanning every inch of your face, committing the details to memory.

Alas, when it came to you, time moved fast, even for him. You looked up at him and your face widened into a grin. “Hey, Maximoff, how was training?”

“Exhausting. How goes the Biology assignment?”

“Exhausting.” You picked up a book, setting it in your lap. “Biology should not be this hard.”

“If it helps, I’m sure my exhausting training session was easier than your exhausting Biology assignment.”

You furrowed your brows and cocked your head at him. “How does that help me?”

He pretended to think for a second. “Oh, right, no. It helps me though.”

You glared at him in mock outrage. “And just for that comment, you must now help me with this. Surrender your free evening to me, Maximoff, or you shall suffer.”

They’re cute when they’re trying to be dramatic, he thought. “Never.”

You pouted but then your eye caught on a sheet of paper on the floor and you pounced on it. “That’s the one I’ve been searching for! YES!”

Peter watched you with the tiniest hint of a smile on his face and, unbidden, a phrase jumped into his mind. I love you.

For a moment, the thought left him stunned. He’d known in his heart of hearts since your very first conversation that you were possibly the one, but he’d never given it much conscious thought. That phrase though, those three little words, rattled him. Not because they weren’t true, oh no, but because there was always a niggling doubt in his mind that you were too good for him. If he told you he loved you, he might scare you away. And then where would he be?

Grabbing a pack of twinkies, he zoomed over to you, planted a quick kiss on your lips and, before you could react, disappeared down the hallway. Your flustered voice shouting “MAXIMOFF” followed him down the hall.

He had been running for what seemed like hours to him but were probably not more than twenty minutes. It was a school night and he needed to catch up on sleep but due to the special nature of his powers, sitting still for too long left him with a lot of energy to expend to the point where it almost made him anxious.

Free of all the hyperactivity, he made his way back to his dorm room. His brows furrowed at the figure in his bed before he realised it was you. You were buried under a pile of blankets, all curled up and looking adorable. Just the sight of you was like a giant boost of serotonin - he felt energised and happy.

He took off his jacket and got under the covers. The movement caused your eyes to flutter open, gaze soft and sleep-laden. “Hey, Maximoff.” Your voice was hoarse but a smile was already snaking its way up your lips. Peter smiled too because there it was again - that bright happiness in his chest. Sometimes, he wondered if the very sight of you might make him combust out of sheer happiness. Heh, that would be the way to go.

You shifted, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Hey,” he whispered back.

“Where were you?” you murmured.

“Running. Too much energy.” He kept it short, knowing that your eyes were already closing again.

You raised a hand and patted the tufts of his hair. “Better now?”

He nodded and let you pull him towards you, his head nestled under your chin, his hands around your waist, your body warm and solid against his. And there it was again, those three words - I love you.

But, no. He wouldn’t tell you he was in love with you when you were in your pyjamas and half asleep. So he pressed a kiss to the hollow of your throat, you shivered and the two of you drifted off to sleep, a soft smile on Peter’s face.

It was a wonderful morning - the sun had dawned bright and clear on the school, and believe it or not, there were birds chirping outside. The cynical teenager in Peter scrunched its nose up in disgust. The only truly wonderful thing about that morning from his perspective was that he would get to spend it with you. Finals had ended the day before and everyone at the mansion would be settling in for a summer free of studying.

He was in the canteen right now, his plate piled high with pancakes. Other students were seated around him, just as exuberant about the beginning of summer. He felt your presence like a touch on the back of his neck and looked up to see you walk in. You were still in your pyjamas, mouth open in a yawn.

You smiled at him and gestured toward the kitchen, indicating that you would get your breakfast before joining him. As you passed by, you dropped a kiss - just the sweetest brush of your lips - onto the top of his head. He turned a bright red but you had already disappeared into the kitchen and didn’t notice.

Now, Peter wasn’t against PDA, per se. It just continually mystified him how someone as wonderful as you could like him. Well, not just like him, but like like him. Sure, he’d had a crush on you for the longest time because you were you - you were wonderful and magical and so much more. But then you’d reciprocated his feelings and he felt like maybe he needed to jump off a building to wake himself up from this dream because there was no way it was real.

And now, every time he saw you, every time he remembered that you were dating him, his heart skipped a beat like he was a hero in some cheesy romcom. He wanted to spend every day with you and show you parts of his life he’d never dared share with anyone else. And so, when you did something as simple as give him a kiss on the head, a gesture so normal and yet so sweet and intimate, it blew him away.

However, he quickly snapped out of his reverie when he saw you heading back toward him. Your plate was stacked high with pancakes, too. You pulled a chair right next to him, pushed some of the pancakes off your plate and onto his (because of course you knew him well enough to know he wanted more) and rested your head on his shoulder, slowly taking bites of the pancakes.

And suddenly he saw a vision of the future - you and him when you were sixty years old in a cosy apartment as you pushed pancakes onto his plate and he doused both of your portions with maple syrup. You would put your head on his shoulder as you two ate and watched the sun come up.

The thought made him smile and it took everything in him not to grab you, whisk you away to his room and kiss you silly. But you were probably hungry and there was no way he would take food away from you just because he’d decided to be incredibly happy.

So he leant over and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You scrunched your nose up at him, this one in amusement, and he smiled back. And thought, I love you.

It was a bad day. There was a thunderstorm outside and Peter believed he was worthless.

It was the kind of sadness that seeped into your bones until you felt like you were so heavy, you could sink to the bottom of an ocean and also that you were so weightless, the slightest wind could pick you up and be away with you until you were lost to the world.

He was sitting at the foot of his bed, hands clenched into fists, his thoughts swirling faster than Dorothy’s house during the tornado that catapulted her to Oz. It was so loud in his head that he didn’t hear you come into his room.

It wasn’t until he felt soft hands on his fists that he looked up to see you kneeling before him, face set with worry as you took in his rigid body posture and the tears swimming in his eyes. “Hey, Pete.” You sat down in front of him, slowly uncurling his fists and taking his hands in yours. You’d witnessed enough of his spirals to know what he was thinking and the effect they had on him.

He held onto you fiercely as if he feared that the storm in his head might rip you away from him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he leaned forward until his forehead touched yours. Your hands ran up and down his arms and you began pressing kisses to his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks and his chin. “I’m here,” you whispered.

The repetitive movements calmed him down - the storm clouds abated and his breath flowed more easily. “Hey,” he croaked.

You laughed a little. “Hey.” Your eyes were thick with tears and worry, too.

He eased his head onto your shoulder and it took you planting a few more kisses to the side of his head for him to crack a smile. “How was your day?” he asked, voice still raw.

“Pretty crappy without you.”

The stiffness seemed to ease out of his body as he began to relax. Suddenly, something hit him between the shoulder blades. It didn’t hurt but he straightened just the same, confusion etched on his face. “What the-?” His eyes widened just a smidge when he saw the NERF gun in your hand. “Did you just fire that at me?”

You nodded solemnly. “It was punishment. For thinking shit about my boyfriend.”

He blinked rapidly, head cocked to the side. “What?”

“This is my new solution - every time you talk down to yourself, I will fire one of these at you. And every time you think good things about yourself, I will … I’ll reward you with a kiss.”

He studied the seriousness on your face, one eyebrow raised in challenge, and then the NERF gun, cocked in his direction.

I love you.

He could hear the phrase in the beat of his heart.

“Okay,” he said. “Nice things. I have lots.”

“Good,” you said. “Start.”

His mouth twisted into a wry grin and that was how you spent the evening. Thinking of nice things to say for himself was harder than he’d anticipated and he did manage to get ‘shot’ multiple times. Not that he minded. What he wanted desperately were your kisses and the way you would smile when he complimented himself. And he would do anything to make you smile so he kept it up. And somewhere along the way, the system began to work - the nicer he was to himself, the more the sadness lifted from his bones.

It was date night and Peter was quite contentedly curled up in bed with you, his favourite movie playing on the TV screen. He had shown it to you multiple times and even though it wasn’t the kind of movie you usually liked, you still watched it enthusiastically with him every time.

His eyes were glued to the screen, his brain concentrating super hard so it was a little while before he noticed what you were doing. You had been murmuring under your breath for the last few minutes. It confused him - you couldn’t be saying something because you were barely audible. Were you singing a song under your breath?

He waited a little, focusing on both the movie and your murmurs until it clicked. You were muttering movie dialogues under your breath. A movie that you weren’t even that fond of and only watched because he loved it, and yet, you could recite it by memory.

Before he could even think about his own actions, he had shifted closer to you and his hand was cupping your cheek and his lips were pressed against yours. You gasped slightly at the sudden change in Peter’s mood and quickly melted against him, kissing him back.

Grinning, he pulled away. Your eyes were closed and you were a little breathless. Peter committed the details to memory, as he often found himself doing when he was around you.

You opened your eyes and grinned at him shyly. “What was that about?”

He shrugged.

“You’re missing the movie,” you protested, when he still didn’t look away from you.

“I don’t care.” He was still grinning at you.

You shifted so your head was resting in the crook of his neck.

Peter believed this was all the confirmation he needed. He’d been afraid to tell you those pesky three little words for fear that you would leave him but … Maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you would love him too and maybe you would stay. Maybe Peter Maximoff could have a happy ending too sometimes.

When he looked down at you, he realised you’d fallen asleep. He tugged at the blanket, pulling it over you, and thought, I love you.

It was a beautiful morning - the sun was shining high in the sky and there was a soft breeze to eliminate the sticky heat - and you felt like a tightly wound spring. You had an assignment to hand in the following day but it felt like your head had been ducked under a frozen pond - work that would normally not take longer than thirty minutes continued to stump you for hours.

The professor for the class was very accommodating and would have no trouble providing an extension. But you believed that you should be able to do this and so there you sat, at your desk, frustrated to tears but refusing to give up.

You looked over your shoulder at Peter, curled up on your bed, fast asleep. You had considered asking him for help, if not with the school work then just with calming you down. But it was difficult for Peter to sleep for extended periods of time due to his mutation and so you let the silver-haired boy rest. But you kept sneaking glances at his sleeping form - let his soft hair and the mesmerising curves of his eyelashes, the very planes of his face ebb away at your distress.

Peter believed in you. So why was it so hard believing in yourself?

You turned back to your work and attacked it with renewed vigour. And before you knew, two hours had passed. You didn’t realise Peter was awake until all the pages on your desk appeared a little disturbed. You turned around in your seat and were a little startled to find Peter standing right behind you, frowning at your work.

You knew Peter would never be sarcastic about your inability to do something properly but you tensed all the same. Peter seemed to sense this - the sweet boy was so in tune with your movements - and he shifted his frown to you.

You had wiped away your tears but your eyes were still a little red and you watched the worry settle into his features.

“I can’t seem to be able to do it,” you whispered, your mouth turning down at the edges.

He reached for you and in the next instant you were standing in the mansion grounds under the shade of a tree. Peter had used his mutation with you in tow so many times now, the nausea barely even hit but you were confused by the changed scenery all the same. Another second passed and now there was a blanket and a picnic basket set up. A triumphant Peter stood in front of you, hands on his hips, smirking.

You peered at the items in the picnic basket. “Do I want to ask if you stole those?”

Peter’s expression faltered and then he shook his head. You smiled.

It was twilight. Peter and you lay side-by-side on the blanket gazing up at the changing hues of the evening sky. Peter had spent the past hour giving you kisses and making a list of everything he loved about you and everything you were capable of until you believed it would be impossible for your ego to be boosted any further.

You shifted your head toward his shoulder. Peter had begun pointing out shapes that he saw in the clouds and you’d laughed so much, your grin felt carved into your face. Your worries had melted away and been replaced with a steady confidence in yourself, all thanks to the boy next to you.

You watched him with a fond look on your face as he studied the clouds for another shape, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. You could sense a sarcastic remark sitting at the tip of his tongue. The wind was ruffling his hair and the moment felt so delicate and precious, it almost brought tears to your eyes.

And somehow, your joy in that moment unlocked a key truth you had felt in your heart but never voiced - you shifted onto your side, facing Peter, and whispered softly, “I love you.”

Peter stilled and his eyes widened a fraction in alarm. He turned to you and said, “No.”

Now it was your turn to be alarmed. “What?”

“No, I didn’t mean “no”, I just meant that I had a plan and I was going to get you your favourite flowers and maybe some chocolates, do the whole cheesy scene, maybe learn a little dance. I was still planning it and then, and now, you just -”

“What?”

Peter looked at you mournfully. “I was planning a whole beautiful evening to make you feel special and to tell you that I was in love with you but now you’ve ruined it all by being sentimental and I mean I get it, I’m irresistible but still -”

Normally, you would have laughed and rolled your eyes at that comment about him being irresistible but your heart had gotten caught on the phrase “I was in love with you” and it appeared to be trying to execute a dance performance in your chest.

“You’re in love with me?” you whispered.

Peter finally seemed to have realised what he’d admitted in the middle of his ramblings and was watching you, mouth agape like that of a fish. “I- No!” he scoffed.

You smiled. “You already said it. No take-backsies.”

“Fine,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to take it back any way. I do, you know. Love you, I mean. I’ve realised it like a bajillion times by now, just didn’t know how to say it.”

“Well, it’s lucky you have me then,” you said. “I was also the first one to ask you out on a date, you remember? And the first one to kiss you.”

“Not my fault you’re so breathtaking that I fall apart around you.”

“Hmm.” You grinned.

“Hmm.” He grinned back.

Leaning forward, he captured your lips in a kiss, using his arm to pull you into him. Your hands settled on the nape of his neck as you kissed back, pulling him impossibly closer.

Peter had been right. Maybe he could have a happy ending too sometimes.

xxx

Thank you for reading this! Comments and reblogs are much appreciated. :) ~ Nina

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff fanfic #xmen x you #xmen x reader #xmen fanfic #x reader #fluff #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver fanfic #gender neutral reader

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