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sungbeam · 1 year

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HEYYYYYYY

To start off, phew, that pintrest post had me going DELULUUUUUUUU like jeez miss Molly Burford you def had some INSANE ideas/pos cause I read that whole thing like it was a small Changmin fic in and of itself and it just goes to show how strong literature can really be and how much emotion you can convey with just the smallest bit of writing like- *sobs*

AND YEAH RIP YOU WERE RIGHT QUANTUMANIA SUCKED LOWKEY 😭

Onto watch Hawkeye tho 😼🤭

AND YASSSSS I GOT INTO TBZ PRETTY RECENTLY (roar era 💀) BUT THE CONCEPT FOR MAVERICK WAS EVERYTHING TO ME I SWEAR LIKE I WAS GENUINELY LIKE, JAWDROP, WHEN I SAW THE TRAILER LIKE THE MUSIC, THE CUTS, CHANGMIN’S ENDING SCENE PHEW LIKE OUR MEN CAN A C T

I still go back to just watch the teaser cause it’s genuinely so cool to me and I just wished they did more with the concept cause it was such an interesting storyline BUT THE BE AWAKE/BE AWARE STORYLINE WAS ALSO PRETTY INTERESTING AND I CAN DO A FULL DISSERTATION ON IT I SWEAR LIKE, IN THIS ESSAY I WILL- 🤓☝️

But yeah I basically just started with tbz yet I somehow managed to get almost all the maverick album photocards so lowkey proud of myself, thanks mercari 🤭

And yeah with GOTG3 Floor was actually a bunny rabbit 😭 the way she moved like a spider freaked me TF out tho 💀 but yesss they were so cute and it just felt bad seeing them cause being experimented on was basically all that they knew and they were so happy to escape but then… yeah 😭

And LORDDDDD right when they were escaping and Floor started freaking tf out and kept repeating the same sentence was when I started sobbing RFYUTFJBJ FELT A LIL GOOFY DOING IT IN THE THEATRE BUT OH WELL

AND YES (omfg take a shot every time I say ‘and’ 💀) YOU’RE SO RIGHT ABT YOUR WRITING STYLE like I thought it was only me that thought your writing is almost cinematic?? Not bc of the scene or act titles or anything tho like I can’t really pinpoint how it feels cinematic but it does and I’m SO obsessed with it cause I usually imagine fics to play out as if I’m watching a movie [it’s smth I do with books too like I’ve always just had an insane imagination that I’m v v proud of (like thank you brain for giving me smth useful for once 🙄☝️/j)]

But yeah (take a shot every time I say ‘yeah’ 💀) your writing style just makes it way more easier for me to digest bc of my overactive imagination HEBUHDBRH

YAS I DO LOVE TXT AND BEOMGYU IS MY BIAS HEHEHE 🤭 Tae and Kai have been wrecking me fr tho PHEW but AHHH a lot of superhero aus typically don’t have the reader as a superhero so that’ll be super refreshing to see! :o

KEEP THE SUPERHERO AUS COMING THO CAUSE I *DO* LIVE FOR THEM unfortunately I haven’t seen moon knight, ms marvel, OR shangchi BUT THEY WILL BE ADDED TO THE LIST TRUST and phew superhero Kev with his white hair ARGH MAIN CHARACTER FR 😵‍💫

OH NAURRR THE CHANGMIN FIC TOO GOSH SOMEONE TAKE CHANGMIN AWAY FROM YOU CAUSE YOU *WILL* END UP DESTROYING MY HEART(/jk jk) but I can see it right now not even gonna lie like I’m kind of envisioning the almost nostalgic vibe of a late 90s-early 00’s anime (idk if the link will work cause I’m on mobile but kind of like this scene from Mysterious Girlfriend X https://images.app.goo.gl/Huz8NDfpAajF7iC37) like I always get that warm nostalgic vibe WHENIGND SORRY IF THAT’S NOT WHAT YOU WERE TALKING ABT AT A L L 💀

Also, confession time, I was also a CHRONIC ghost reader that would just like (mostly cause I didn’t know that reblogs actually mattered as much as likes-) but I have seen so so many amazing blogs disappear or go inactive due to the lack of reblogs, likes, feedback, or basically ANY interaction :( I’ve changed my ways now even though I’m still not sure if I’m doing my reblogs properly but I guess I didn’t realize how much feedback or reblogs actually matter to people until I saw how my OWN motivation improved when I receive feedback or praise. Especially when I’m struggling with my mental health, someone telling me that I did something right makes me feel SOOOOO much happier than a singular like does. So now I prefer sending anon asks to authors just so I can communicate how much I appreciate their work cause honestly if I was a writer then I’d love to hear what people would have to say abt my fics, no matter if the feedback is negative (as long as it’s constructive and not mean-) or positive, it’s still better than nothing. So I completely get you bro and I genuinely hope that more people come to the same realization that I did 😭🫶 like I promise guys, a little feedback goes a long way and helps more than you think it can!

- Love you more than yesterday, but less than tomorrow, 🌷 anon

🌷 I LITERALLY SCREECHED AND GIGGLED ALOUD WHEN I SAW UR MESSAGE AKFNSJDJ HI BFFIE 🥰🥰🥰

plsss IKR kdnskdnkd ykw that's just what these men do to me 😔😌 make me so utterly irrevocably irredeemably delusional 🤩🤸‍♀️ i too JUST got into the boyz so ur not alone haha :')) i go into them just a couple months before roar era !! so like the standstill in btwn but yeah, the be awake concepts were SO FIRE 😩🤘🏻 i was so so so excited for it to come out and WE WERE NOT DISAPPOINTED IN THE SLIGHTEST !! (like we were w quantumania 😬) WAIT HELLO U HAVE ALL THE MAVERICK CARDS ALREADY???(@;@*@((@9@*#; WHAT SORCERY WKFJEKDM i didn't buy anything from maverick era but i did buy like a mystery pack of pcs someone was selling off instagram and got a couple pcs to start my section of them 😔😔 but i think after buying be awake im trying to not buy anymore of that stuff :'))))

NO CUZ THE WHOLE ROCKET BG STORYLINE WAS SO SAD SKXNSKDN I DIDNT EXPECT THAT I LITERALLY HATE THAT ITS SO SAD AND DARK LIKE??? im so glad my man rocket was SOLIDIFIED as an absolute genius now tho, that's so cool for him even tho it was bc of that wicked fkn high evolutionary trash 😭😭 floor's voice and actions and appearance combined were so scary PLS 💀 she's an absolute sweetheart but my goodness gracious, she will be someone's sleep paralysis demon—

OMG 🥺🥺🥺 BESTIE UR FEEDING INTO MY EGO SKCNKEMD i sometimes do write like im directing a scene instead of writing a fic/novel (´Д⊂ヽit's like a really bad habit cuz it doesn't allow me to flesh it out, but if u remember from the changmin fic otr, in the scene right after they confessed, changmin calls chanhee and it cuts right to yn's actions, and i was literally just imagining it as like a very abrupt scene break 2kfnskfjkdkd AND in that same fic and wavelength, in the cherry blossom quad scene at the end where changmin says "we never did get to finish that duet", i just imagine the scene ending with them looking at each other with the quad in the bg and the screen fades to black and he says the line OR it ends with like a close-up of how close their hands r to touching or smth— im telling u,,,, i literally think abt EVERYTHING as a movie sequence 😭😭😭 i could prob tell u what angle the proverbial camera is in for each scene 💀

STOP CUZ BEOMGYU IS MY BIAS TOO 😭😭😭😭 I LOVE THAT MAN W ALL MY HEART FRFR taehyun has been wrecking tho lately @_@ LIKE ,,, all of txt needs to chill w going to the gym, that's all im gonna say......... OMG I WILL WATCH THAT CLIP IN A MOMENT JSFNJDNDN BUT I STARTED WRITINF SOME OF THE SLOW DANCING FIC AND IDK WHAT THE VIBE IS COMPLETELY BUT I WILL LYK IF THE CLIP U SENT MATCHES IT ONCE I GET TO WRITING MORE TRUST o7

i too used to be a chronic ghost reader 😭😭😭 i had an old account where i tried writing, but i never really interacted with ANYONE and i thought that reblogs were just for people who went above and beyond 😭😔 but then when i started gaining more traction on this new acct, i realized how much reblogs really did matter and how tumblr apparently does run on them 🤧🤧 but yeah, i do appreciate u coming into my ask box all the time !!! this and/or reblogging,,, i appreciate both VERY DEEPLY :'))

TULIP, U HAVE A WAY W WORDS (´Д⊂ヽ if that's a quote from somewhere else, we can pretend u came up w it 🤩🤸‍♀️ love u lots 💖 more than 3000

#sungbeam strikes again #🌷 anon

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agnes-come-back-challenge · 3 years

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Who wants a full comparison of episodes 1, 25, and 111 of Welcome to Night Vale? Because I love comparing these episodes and also I have no impulse control. Let’s go

(Spoilers up to episode 111, obviously. Also, I’ll bold every other segment so that it’s easier to tell which ones I’m comparing)

((This is gonna be an incredibly long post. I’m very sorry))

A friendly desert community, where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and mysterious lights pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep. Welcome to Night Vale. (1)

A friendly desert community, where the sun is still hot, the moon still beautiful, and mysterious lights still pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep. Welcome to Night Vale. (25)

A friendly desert community, where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and mysterious lights pass overhead, while we lay open eyed, watching it all. Welcome to Night Vale. (111)

Hello listeners. To start things off, I’ve been asked to read this brief notice. The City Council announces the opening of a new Dog Park at the corner of Earl and Summerset, near the Ralphs. They would like to remind everyone that dogs are not allowed in the Dog Park. People are not allowed in the Dog Park. It is possible you will see hooded figures in the Dog Park. do not approach them. Do not approach the Dog Park. The fence is electrified and highly dangerous. Try not to look at the Dog Park and especially do not look for any period of time at the hooded figures. The Dog Park will not harm you. (1)

One single year since two major events in our town’s history. First, the opening of our lovely, state-of-the-art Dog Park, which is forbidden, and which I will not mention again. (25)

The City Council reiterated for the 1,874th consecutive day that the Dog Park is off limits for both dogs and humans. The fence is electrified and highly dangerous etc. Hooded figures and all that. Since its construction we have shied from and feared the Dog Park. The Dog Park is neither a park nor for dogs, and so what does it even mean to call it a dog park? Why do we use language that means one thing to describe something that is entirely else? I don’t know what the word is for that place the City Council calls the dog park, but I do know it’s time to start searching for that word, and once found, to use it boldly. (111)

And now the news. Old Woman Josie, out near the car lot, says the Angels revealed themselves to her. Said they were ten feet tall, radiant, one of them was black. Said they helped her with various household chores. One of them changed a light bulb for her, the porch light. She’s offering to sell the old light bulb, which has been touched by an angel (it was the black angel, if that sweetens the pot for anyone). If you’re interested, contact Old Woman Josie. She’s out near the car lot. (1)

[none] (25)

The angels, who I can now say are angels, and will say are angels, because they are angels, held a memorial for Old Woman Josie in her house. Everyone in town came, overcome with a feeling that finally they could look at these beings and recognize them for what they were. Even the City Council attended the memorial, but refused to make eye contact with anyone. Of course, this positive, concrete identification only led to more mysteries, for if these are angels, then where did they come from? And what does that mean for us? Even now we find that we cannot voice these questions. Not because we are not allowed. But because we cannot find the words to ask. Instead we ate cake and drank coffee in the living room of Old Woman Josie, which was once just that, a place she lived. Now it is only a room. One by one, we laid our hand on the Angels’ hands, and in that moment of contact each of us, in turn, found ourselves weeping. As the party wound down, we all heard a soft pop outside. It was the lightbulb on Old Woman Josie’s porch, burning out. (111)

A new man came in to town today. Who is he? What does he want from us? Why his perfect and beautiful haircut? Why his perfect and beautiful coat? He says he is a scientist. Well, we have all been scientists at one point or another in our lives. But why now? Why here? And just what does he plan to do with all those beakers and humming electrical instruments in that lab he’s renting, the one next to Big Rico’s Pizza. No one does a slice, like Big Rico. No one. (1)

Second, and more important, it is one year since the arrival in Night Vale of our most beloved and singular citizen. (25)

A man who I know very well came into my house today, which is also his house. He laid his head, with its perfect and beautiful hair, upon my shoulder, and crossed his arms over his perfect and beautiful lab coat. I embraced him. We are creatures of touch, humans, and we retrieve so much meaning and happiness from contact. “I have become too complacent,” he said. “When I came here, I understood this town as scientifically fascinating. And then, gradually, it became my day to day life. I could no longer see the strangeness, but only my home.” “We are all guilty of that,” I said. “But I am a scientist,” he said.“Well,” I said. “We have all been scientists at one point or another in our lives.” (111)

Just a reminder to all the parents out there. Let’s talk about safety when taking your children out to play in the scrub lands and the sand wastes. You need to give them plenty of water, make sure there’s a shade tree in the area, and keep an eye on the helicopter colors. Are the unmarked helicopters circling the area black? Probably World Government, not a good area for play that day. Are they blue? That’s the Sheriff’s Secret Police, they’ll keep a good eye on your kids, and hardly ever take one. Are they painted with complex murals depicting birds of prey diving? No one knows what those helicopters are, or what they want. Do not play in the area. Return to your home and lock the doors until a Sheriff’s Secret Policeman leaves a carnation on your porch to indicate that the danger has passed. Cover your ears to blot out the screams. Also, remember: Gatorade is basically soda, so give your kids plain old water and maybe some orange slices when they play. (1)

Parents: Let’s talk about safety when taking your children to play out in the scrub lands and the sand wastes. All children in Night Vale are missing this week, so there’s no current safety issues. Hope we find them! (25)

Just a reminder to all the parents out there. Let’s talk about safety when taking your children out to play in the scrub lands and the sand wastes. You need to give them plenty of water, make sure there’s a shade tree in the area, and keep an eye on the helicopter colors. I asked my best friend and brother, Steve, to talk me through which helicopters belong to which organizations. Obviously the black helicopters belong to the World Government, although I had not realized, until Steve laid it out for me, how closely they are also associated with the Lizard People. The blue ones are Sheriff’s Secret Police, the pink ones are the new Double Secret Police, and the ones painted with complex murals depicting birds of prey diving? Well not even Steve knows what those helicopters are, nor what they want. On Steve’s chart, those are just labeled with the word RUN and then a few hundred exclamation points. (111)

A commercial airliner flying through local airspace disappeared today, only to reappear in the Night Vale Elementary gymnasium during basketball practice, disrupting practice quite badly. The jet roared through the small gym for only a fraction of a second, and before it could strike any players or structure, it vanished again, this time apparently for good. There is no word yet on if or how this will affect the Night Vale Mountain Lion’s game schedule, and also if this could perhaps be the work of their bitter rivals, the Desert Bluffs Cacti. Desert Bluffs is always trying to show us up through fancier uniforms, better pre-game snacks, and quite possibly by transporting a commercial jet into our gymnasium, delaying practice for several minutes at least. For shame, Desert Bluffs. For shame. (1)

In other news, a commercial airliner appeared today inside the home of surprised Night Vale citizen Becky Canterbury, who said she was about to get in the shower when it roared down her hallway and then disappeared, as suddenly as it had arrived. There is no conclusive evidence that this is the same airliner last seen in the Night Vale Elementary gym one year ago, but we have jumped to that conclusion and will defend it against all naysayers, violently and without mercy. Our truths may or may not be true, but they are ours, and we stand by them, even as the experts and skeptics hold aloft clipboards and intone to us about snow and mountains. Becky added that she would like to take that shower now, and that she has no idea how we managed to arrive for an interview mere seconds after the incident occurred. “My doors are locked.” she said. “My windows too. I’ve had my eyes shut for years. How did you get in here?” (25)

A commercial airliner flying through local airspace disappeared today, only to reappear at the fifth hole of the Sagebrook Pines Private Golf Club and Bulk Supplier. This disrupted all golf activities badly, as well as scaring a family of four who were perusing bulk paper towels offered at a discount price in a nearby sandtrap. I feel, for the first time, that I can articulate that this airliner had flown into some other universe, those divisions being particularly thin here in our quaint little community. This also is the cause of things like dead relatives occasionally joining us for breakfast, or the shimmering skyscrapers and crowded cities that appear for flashing moments in the sky. Of course, it also could be the handywork of the East Night Vale Cacti, the basketball team at the new East Night Vale Elementary School. Those scamps are always pulling pranks. Could they transport a large plane through multiple universes? Who am I to say? But probably yes. For shame, East Night Vale. For shame. (111)

The local chapter of the NRA is selling bumper stickers as part of their fundraising week. They sent the station one to get some publicity, and we’re here to serve the community, so I’m happy to let you all know about it. The stickers are made from good, sturdy vinyl, and they read: “Guns don't kill people. It's impossible to be killed by a gun. We are all invincible to bullets and it's a miracle.” Stand outside of your front door and shout “NRA” to order one. (1)

The local chapter of the NRA has begun market testing some possible new slogans. These include: “Guns don't kill people. Blood loss and organ damage does.” “Guns don't kill people. People kill guns.” “A list of things that kill people: 1. Conceivably anything. 2. Not guns.” “Guns don't kill people. We are all immortal souls living temporarily in shelters of earth and meat.” and “If you say guns kill people one more time I will shoot you with a gun and you will, coincidentally, die.” To vote on the new slogan, simply fire a gun at the object or person that best represents your choice. (25)

The local chapter of the NRA is selling bumper stickers as part of their fundraising week. The stickers are made from good, sturdy vinyl and they read “We genuinely do not value human life.” Cute! (111)

Carlos and his team of scientists warn that one of the houses in the new development of Desert Creek, out back of the elementary school, doesn’t actually exist. “It seems like it exists,” explained Carlos and his perfect hair. “Like it’s just right there when you look at it, and it’s between two other identical houses so it would make more sense for it to be there than not” But, he says, they have done experiments and the house is definitely not there. At news time, the scientists are standing in a group on the sidewalk in front of the nonexistent house, daring each other to go knock on the door. (1)

Scientists, and science in general, would like to remind you that some things exist and some things do not. Usually, you can apply the simple test of seeing if it is there. If it is there, it exists. If not, it probably doesn’t, but it might just be currently existing somewhere else. Existence is tricky, the scientists say. Research shows this. For instance, there is that house in the housing development of Desert Creek out back of the elementary school, the house that doesn’t exist. It seems like it exists. Like it’s just right there when you look at it, and it’s between two other identical houses so it would make more sense for it to be there than not. But it does not exist. They have proved this with science. The scientists still haven’t gotten up the nerve to ring the doorbell and find out what happens. Do you want to do it? They’ll pay you five dollars if you do. Just ring it once ok. We’ll be watching from back here. You’ll probably be fine. (25)

Carlos and his scientists, like Luisa and Nilanjana, are renewing their investigation into the house in the development of Desert Creek, out back of the elementary school. The house that doesn’t actually exist. “It seems like it exists,” muttered Carlos. “Like it’s just right there when you look at it, and it’s between two other identical houses so it would make more sense for it to be there than not.” But he says, it is actually a doorway to another world. A world he himself was once stuck in for a year. There seem to be secrets about that year he is keeping to himself. Maybe someday we will learn what they are. (111)

Lights, seen in the sky above the Arby’s. Not the glowing sign of Arby’s. Something higher and beyond that. We know the difference. We’ve caught on to their game. We understand the lights above Arby’s game. Invaders from another world. Ladies and gentlemen the future is here. And it’s about a hundred feet above the Arby’s. (1)

But here, Carlos and I sat on the trunk of that car, his car, looking together at the lights up in the sky above the Arby’s. They were beautiful in the hushed twilight, shimmering in a night sky already coming alive with bits of the universe. [...] We understand the lights. We understand the lights above the Arby’s. We understand so much. But the sky behind those lights, mostly void, partially stars, that sky reminds us: we don’t understand even more. (25)

Lights, seen in the sky above the Arby’s. Not the glowing sign of Arby’s. Something higher and beyond that. One night, years ago, two people, scared and vulnerable and loving and ready, came together for a quiet moment under that sky. And I pretended at the time to understand the lights. But a big part of recognizing the world for what it is, is recognizing when you have no idea. Invaders from another world? Harbingers of future terror? A fragment of another universe, fading into our own above reasonably priced lunch meat? Maybe any. Maybe all. Maybe none. But here is what I do know. The lights are, among other things, a part of my memory, and a part of my marriage, and a part of my love. They are a piece of my past, and I don’t need to understand them to understand that. Ladies and gentlemen the past is here. And it’s about a hundred feet above the Arby’s. (111)

The City Council would like to remind you about the tiered heavens, and the hierarchy of angels. The reminder is that you should not know anything about this. The structure of heaven and the angelic organizational chart are privileged information, known only to City Council members on a need to know basis. Please to do not speak to or acknowledge any angels that you may come across while shopping at the Ralphs or at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex. They only tell lies, and do not exist. Report all angels sightings to the City Council for treatment. (1)

The City Council would like to remind you about the tiered heavens, and the hierarchy of angels. The reminder is that you still should not know anything about this. The structure of heaven and the angelic organizational chart are still privileged information. Also, angels aren’t real. “I really get tired of having to say this,” a City Council representative said to a group of disgruntled angels. “Angels aren’t real. They just aren’t.” The angels became unruly and were dispersed by a thunderclap from heaven. (25)

The City Council would like to remind you about the tiered heavens and the hierarchy of angels. The reminder is the Council is grumpy that all of this is not forbidden knowledge, but due to the new laws, they are required to inform you that the angels have made all of that information available. Stop by the house where the angels live if you want to pick up a free packet outlining exactly how all of that is organized. While the packet itself is free, it is likely the angels will ask to borrow five dollars. They tend to do that. (111)

Speaking of the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex, its owner, Teddy Williams, reports that he has found the entrance to a vast, underground city in the pin retrieval area of lane 5. He said he has not yet ventured into it, merely peered down at its strange spires and broad avenues. He also reports voices of a distant crowd in the depths of that subterranean metropolis. Apparently the entrance was discovered when a bowling ball accidentally rolled into it, clattering down to the city below with sounds that echoed for miles across the impossibly huge cavern. So, you know, whatever population that city has, they know about us now and we might be hearing from them very soon. (1)

Word is in about a disturbance at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex. There has been the sound of chanting and machinery from under the pin retrieval area of lane five, and Teddy Williams has changed all the bowlers’ names on the electronic scorecards to “THEY ARE HERE”. This is causing some confusion and has completely ruined Jeremy Godfrey's 50th birthday party, which had rented out a few lanes for the afternoon. Jeremy was last seen drinking a light beer out of a plastic cup, shaking his head sadly as he swished the liquid around and looking out the window at the sky, mostly void, partially stars. Teddy Williams was last seen howling, commanding his militia to surround the pin retrieval area and prepare for an attack. (25)

Over at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex, Teddy Williams, its owner, reported the startling news that there is nothing under the pin retrieval area of lane 5. As you may remember, there has been a tiny city of warlike people under the bowling alley for several years now, which has caused some trouble, although not a lot of trouble, because they were very tiny people. But now there is just a hole in the earth under the pin retrieval area, an empty space containing only my own memories of a night that someone I loved almost died before I had a chance to truly love him. So good riddance to whatever that town was. (111)

Carlos, perfect and beautiful, came into our studios during the break earlier but declined to stay for an interview. He had some sort of blinking box in his hand covered with wires and tubes. Said he was testing the place for materials. I don’t know what materials he meant, but that box sure whistled and beeped a lot. When he put it close to the microphone, it sounded like, well, like a bunch of baby birds had just woken up. Really went crazy. Carlos looked nervous. I’ve never seen that kind of look on someone with that strong of a jaw. He left in a hurry. Told us to evacuate the building, but then, who would be here to talk sweetly to all of you out there. (1)

I arrived at the parking lot to find Carlos, perched on the trunk of his car in flannel and jeans, his perfect hair mussed, his perfect teeth hidden. “What is it?” I said. “What danger are we in? What mystery needs to be explored?” He shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “After everything that happened...I just wanted to see you.” My heart leapt. My heart soared. My heart, metaphorically, performed a number of aerial activities, and, literally, it began beat hard. (25)

Carlos, perfect and beautiful, came into our studios during the break earlier, and we ate lunch together out of Tupperwares. He had some sort of blinking box in his hand covered with wires and tubes. When he put it close to the microphone, it sounded like, well, like a bunch of baby birds had just woken up. Really went crazy. He asked if I remembered it. He had brought it by on the first day we had met. He had told me that it tested for materials, but he wasn’t actually sure what materials it tested for. He had just wanted an excuse to come by and talk to me. “Anyway,” he said, “I thought it was a nice memento. Back when we were fumbling awkwardly toward this life we share.” “But,” he added, “it’s a real instrument that is detecting some actual materials of some kind, so there is a good chance that everything about this studio is deeply dangerous. Please be careful.” (111)

Settling in to be another clear and pretty evening here in Night Vale. I hope all of you out there have someone to sleep through it with, or at least good memories of when you did. Good night, listeners. Good night. (1)

We understand the lights. We understand the lights above the Arby’s. We understand so much. But the sky behind those lights, mostly void, partially stars, that sky reminds us: we don’t understand even more. Good night, Night Vale. Good night. (25)

Settling in to be another clear and pretty evening here in Night Vale, this weird, weird town. I hope all of you out there have someone to sleep through it with. I know I do. Good night, listeners. Good night. (111)

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kumeko · 3 years

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A/N: For the Tiny Lights, @hananene-zine! I wanted to do a little ‘spirited-away’ au (it works so well for the ship!) The amazing @blue-mooned made a beautiful piece to go with it, check it out!

Summary: Radish Legs didn’t like the butterflies she was getting from Hanako. Didn’t like how he teased her even as he helped her reclaim her name and her life. He was a spirit, a ghost, and she definitely wasn’t starting to like like him.

…

Over the past couple of weeks, Radish Legs had gotten used to many things, the least of which was her name change. She wasn’t sure what was more insulting about it: the fact that people thought her legs were fat or the notion that no one could come up with a better nickname. How could anyone look at her and not come up with a more beautiful name? She was gorgeous, damnit.

Maybe the guy who’d stolen her name was blind. Tsukasa Yugi was a spirit, after all, and there was no accounting for taste with them. Especially one as evil with him. Not only had he stolen her name, but he’d also turned her best friend into a pig. Well, actually, if she were honest, it was mostly her fault that Aoi had turned into a pig. It had been a little suspicious when they’d found those empty stalls filled with food, and Aoi had been right when she’d wanted to go back. If she hadn’t convinced her to eat, maybe they’d be home right now.

Instead, Aoi was in a pig pen and Radish Legs was sitting on a furry rabbit-like thing as she flew hundreds of miles over the earth. Clutching the fur tightly, she leaned over and peeked at the ground below. The houses looked like ants from this height, and she swallowed as she sat straight once more. If she fell, they’d have to call her Pancake Girl. “You sure this is safe?”

On her right, Hanako shrugged. He was the exact mirror image of Tsukasa, though while the short hair gave his twin an eviller look, Hanako looked more boyish. As usual, there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he asked, “Is anything safe, really?”

“Hanako,” she warned, not in the mood for another one of his jokes. However cute he was (and boy was he cute, Radish Girl had to remind herself that even if he looked like he was her age, he was a spirit and was probably a zillion years older than her), his attitude was barely tolerable when they had the solid ground beneath them. Soaring high in the sky, she refused to play along. “I don’t want to die.”

“Would it really be that bad?” He reached out, placing a hand on hers and squeezing it lightly. For a spirit, his skin was warm, and she blushed. “We could hang out even longer.”

“Hanako,” she growled, glaring at him. She didn’t move her hand, however.

“Don’t worry so much.” Laughing, he leaned back and stared at the sky. She missed his touch immediately. “Mokka are a reliable transport. It’ll get us back on time.”

“Right, the test.” Radish Legs rubbed her arms, remembering now just why they were in such a rush to get back to the bathhouse. This was perhaps her only chance to escape all this madness and get home. “Your brother…what do you think the test’ll be?”

“Mmm, well, it’s going to be something really tricky, because he’s sneaky like that.” Hanako tapped his chin, considering the question seriously. She wondered if he realized he was just as sly as his brother. At least Hanako wasn’t as malicious. “You remember your name, right?”

Radish Legs nodded, patting her chest. Tucked inside an inner pocket was her birthday card from Aoi, her name carefully scrawled across the cover. Nene. The name felt foreign now, after weeks of Radish Legs, and she resisted the urge to say it aloud, to remind herself how it sounded, how it tasted. Until she defeated Tsukasa’s test, her name had to remain a secret.

“Good.” Hanako smiled, and his expression is genuine now. He took her hand again, this time tenderly. Intertwining their fingers, he continued. “Then all you have to do is save your friend and you’ll get home.” His thumb stroked her skin and he lowered his eyes. Wistfully, he asked, “You could stay, you know. Save your friend and then stay here.”

“I…” Radish Legs swallowed. He wasn’t her type, she reminded herself. She was into dashing princes, the ones so handsome you couldn’t believe they were real. Not the all too close boy-next-door, the kind of guy that grew on her until she couldn’t remember what it was like without him. His eyes were so big, she could see her reflection in them. Biting her lip, Radish Legs stared at their clasped hands. It was strange, she had a feeling they’d held hands like this before. Long ago, when spirits were still just silly stories.

Before she could sort herself out, Hanako laughed and let go. “I’m just teasing. You can’t stay here. After the mess you made cleaning, Tsukasa’s gonna kick you out himself.”

“Jeez, stop making fun of me,” Radish Legs pouted, ignoring the way her heart sank. No, scratch that, her heart didn’t sink at all. She didn’t care about him in the least. She was a stone, she was a rock, and she was going to grab Aoi and leave the second she could.

“It was a parting gift. I can’t do it anymore after you leave, after all.” Shielding his eyes, he squinted as he stared into the distance. It wasn’t long before he broke into a smile. “We’re almost there!”

“That was so quick!” Incredulous, Radish Legs leaned forward, eyes narrowing until she could barely make out the shape of Tsukasa’s bathhouse. It would never be home, but she felt a sense of relief as they got closer. The spirit world was vast, and this was the one small part she knew. “I should have just taken a Mokke when I left.”

Hanako snorted. Patting her back, he stated bluntly, “You would have crashed.”

“I…” She couldn’t entirely deny it. It wasn’t like her time in the spirit world had been smooth in the least. Even the simplest of jobs, cleaning a tub, had gone awry because of some pesky spirits. Actually, almost every task she’d been given had gone wrong one way or another. “I could have managed,” she mumbled lamely.

Chuckling, Hanako took her hand again. He was so touchy feely like that, constantly liking having some contact with her. Hand holding was easier for her heart than his hugging, at least, but that didn’t make her pulse race any slower. “Alright, ready?”

And again, this sensation was familiar. Someone had held her hand like this before, guiding her. She had been younger then, much younger, and wandering around a shrine at night. No, that wasn’t right. Nene frowned, her nose scrunching as she forced herself to remember. It had felt like a shrine, but it had happened at a school. A fourth step she shouldn’t have stepped on.

She turned to ask Hanako but froze as she stared at the seal on his cheek. Suddenly, he wasn’t wearing a white haori but instead black school clothes. Her own pink outfit faded away into her elementary uniform. His hand held hers tightly as they navigated through a shrine filled with dolls.

You shouldn’t have stepped on that fourth step, he muttered, giving her a wry smile. But I guess you couldn’t help it with those radish legs of yours.

“Radish Legs?”

“Radish Legs? Hello?”

“I don’t have fat legs!” Radish Legs roared, pulling herself out of her memory and into the present.

Hanako blinked, eyes wide as he let go of her hand. He was wearing his white haori again, just as she was her high school self again. Rubbing the back of his head, he muttered, “Damn, you’re scary.”

She should be angrier at that, but Radish Legs discarded her rage and instead grabbed his shoulders. “I know who you are!”

“It’d be a problem if you got amnesia now,” Hanako joked, his expression bemused.

“No, not that—your name is Amane Yugi!” Radish Legs announced triumphantly. All this time, she’d had a strange feeling that they’d met before and now she knew why. “You died at my school and now you’re Hanako, the toilet ghost. You saved me one time when I got trapped in a school mystery.”

“Huh? I…” Hanako’s eyes widened as he processed her words. “Amane?” Something must have clicked in him somewhere because he started to repeat the word, saying his name over and over again. “I’m Amane. Amane. I…” He smiled brightly. “I’m a school mystery!”

As soon as he announced it, the Mokke shrank and they were no longer flying but falling. It was so sudden that Radish Legs didn’t even have a chance to scream before gravity yanked her down. Her hands were still on Hanako’s—no Amane’s shoulders and he grabbed her waist, keeping her close. “Nene! You did it!”

“Nene?” It had been so long since she’d heard it, but that was her name. Not Radish Legs, but Nene. “That’s me!”

“And I’m Amane!” He laughed as they plummeted. “I have my name back! And you…you might be bigger now but you’re just as clumsy, huh?”

Indignant, she bit out, “Hey! Who saved you? ME!”

“That’s true. I guess you paid me back, huh?” He pulled her closer, until they touched foreheads. For a ghost, he felt all too real. “Thanks, Nene.”

Flustered, she could only nod. He was close, far too close, and smiling like that was unfair. If Amane asked for anything now, she could only say yes.

Luckily, he didn’t realize it. Instead, he slowed down their fall and hugged her tight. Before she could protest, he started flying them back to the bathhouse. And if she nestled his arms a little, buried her head into his chest, well, he didn’t say anything about it.

Suddenly, she wished they’d taken the train back to the bathhouse. It might have been long enough for her to figure out how to say goodbye.

#toilet bound hanako kun #yashiro nene #hanako x nene #hananene #hanako kun #fanfic

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agent-cupcake · 4 years

Note

Cupcake!! Do you listen to music while writing? If yes what kind?

Yes! I absolutely do! I really love music, I’d say it’s secondary to literature as far as my choice of creative input so this is also just my personal recommendations regarding music as a whole with explanations and unwanted commentary because I’m dumb and this is one of my favorite things to talk about.

Firstly, my ongoing(ish) story Beastie and the Bard is musically driven so here are some songs I have on my playlist for that. I tend towards pieces that are melancholy but melodic. Entrancing, perhaps.

Lolita by Ennio Morricone - Contextually, I realize this is a bizarre (even tone deaf) pick given the source material, but... Whatever. This song, in general, just reminds me of Dimitri. Although a heavy, militaristic march might suit him better, the heart rending sound of this song just works for me when I think of him. The piano sets the tone immediately, lingering on some notes in a wistful, sad way. And it is sad, the cello and flute join in to make that clear. But, at a certain point, the instruments begin to dance around together, opening up and almost seeming like they want to resolve the song and create something happier, or at least something bittersweet, only to be drawn back into the uneasy tragedy of the main motif. I dunno, for me, it just absolutely aches like betrayal.

Shallan’s Lullaby by treefin / Black Piper - This music box rendition of Shallan’s Lullaby from Stormlight was the melodic inspiration for my bootleg lullaby that reader writes for Dimitri (perhaps not the first part as much as the way it shifts around 1:07). It’s haunting.

Isabella’s Lullaby from The Promised Neverland - Pretty self explanatory, I think. This one hits the sweet spot of beautiful and sad, from the harp to the vocals it just fits.

Howl’s Moving Castle Merry Go Round of Life original and the cover by the Grissini Project - Both versions are incredibly special pieces of music and I’d be surprised if you hadn’t heard this theme before, very good for the more whimsical parts of the story (not that there’s gonna be any more of that).

Shadows of the Lowlands from Xenoblade 2 - While I’m about to recommend this entire soundtrack, this vocal piece is stunning. This guy’s vocals, no joke, sound like a Tolkien Elf. We Are the Chosen Ones is done by the same vocal group and soloist so it’s also making this list although the tone is def a bit different.

Okay now I’m just gonna point out my favorite soundtracks. For all of these, I have COMPLETELY LEGALLY downloaded most of these from other sites, I’m linking youtube just based on superficial searches to hopefully give you a taste and maybe encourage you to NOT BREAK THE LAW and acquire these soundtracks on your own

Fire Emblem Three Houses - This is obvious and I’m sure you’ve all heard it, but go have a listen if you haven’t. but first, is anyone else disappointed about the Three Houses official release soundtrack? Considering the delay I guess I kinda expected more. Granted, the soundtrack IS phenomenal. Not so much in its entirety, which is emblematic of the game as a whole in some ways, but the set pieces? Unforgettable. This soundtrack is a case study in how powerful a small pool of musical motifs and set-up/pay-offs can be. The little promise of God Shattering Star at the very beginning of the game, Those Who Sow Darkness giving a taste of Shambhala, and then the use of the main melodies of Season of Warfare (Main Theme) and Song of the Nabateans. For the most part, both melodies are used in dramatic songs, creating this unbreakable musical connection between Edelgard and Byleth. Or, if you think about it, Edelgard and the Rhea. For example: the thunder version of Funeral of Flowers doesn’t have the game’s theme, but the rain version does (those two songs were WRITTEN to be layered I stg). And then there’s that somewhat bastardized version of the main theme in At What Cost, highlighting the intended twisting of the usual heroic take on that melody. I do have a potentially unpopular opinion, however. The Apex of the World is boring and tonally dissonant with the final battle in Azure Moon. A lot of people really like Edelgard-Dimitri likes Edelgard! There’s very little heroism in that mission, at least to me, and a song like At What Cost would have fit SO MUCH BETTER. I mean, that is also Edelgard’s theme so hearing that being twisted up into this decidedly more dark song would be thematically appropriate to her ultimate choice. The title also just seems like it suits her and Dimitri. Edelgard claims that she has weighed the cost of war, she believes she is capable of taking on the cost of victory without really knowing what it would be. Dimitri's whole story was him trying to find revenge no mater what the cost and now that he has it, he’s fully understanding what it will cost him. I understand why they would use the traditional hero song to cap the route, but it seems weird that they’d be willing to subvert so many other aspects of tradition while holding to that for a song that, in my opinion, is the least interesting of all the final battle songs. As you can probably tell, At What Cost is a song that is very tonally inspiring to me. I also love Funeral of Flowers (Thunder and Rain separately and layered together), The Long Road, and Roar of Dominion for getting hyped to write.

Final Fantasy VII Remake - Ever since I got this soundtrack, I’ve been addicted. I really don’t have much to say on this one other than just to recommend you give it a listen if you’re even passingly interested in orchestral video game music. There’s some misses for me (specifically the Wall Market stuff and anything that gets into the weird electric guitar/techno stuff) but it’s overwhelmingly fantastic and can work for active listening music and for background music while you write. I’d follow up recommend you get ahold of the Acoustic Arrangements soundtrack. I can’t link you on this one but it’s worth the extra legwork to procure it COMPLETELY LEGALLY.

Final Fantasy Distant Worlds - I was actually able to see the Distant World’s tour when it swept through Houston and at that point I had no idea what the fuck a Final Fantasy was. At all. However, seeing One Winged Angel live is not something I will ever forget. Ever. This soundtrack is great for some background listening and although it is often too upbeat for my usual tastes, it’s good when I need something easier. Okay. Real talk. I was about to recommend to you a bunch of FFXIV music (the MMO), choice selections from FFXV, and try and dig up some songs that are only available in live recordings. If you like Final Fantasy music, I recommend all of these things. The games are a clusterfuck but the music is even moreso and it’s worth your time if you like this kind of thing.

Xenoblade 2 - See? Told you I was gonna recommend this. Actually, ranking wise, I would say that I like it more than Final Fantasy. This soundtrack is magical. I cannot stress that enough, there is a level of whimsy and beauty that went into this soundtrack that all at once draws upon the genre and being it’s own thing. Like, I get it, there’s a lot of misses. The electric guitar is jarring and annoying. Listen to Sea of Clouds, like, actually listen to it. Listen to Desolation. Pay attention to the motif used in connection with Elysium and then the other songs that its used in. The Power of Jin. This is a sometimes sad but mostly beautiful and whimsical soundtrack that is good for listening and for using as background music.

Xenoblade 1 - I don’t have as much to say about this one, I don’t feel as if it’s as emotionally resonant as my other recommendations. BUT it is gorgeous. The area themes are wonderful and perfect for setting tone.

Hollow Knight - Hollow Knight’s soundtrack takes one step back from the drama of the others and revels in its depressive simplicity. There are songs with a more cheerful tone, and the magical whimsy of Xenoblade 2 is very much brought to life in many of the pieces, but for the most part the soundtrack is as gorgeously melancholy as the game itself. One of my favorite things in music is when songs are given new life through new context and the White Palace --> Pale Court transition is haunting.

Diabolik Lovers - OKAY I KNOW I KNOW hear me out. This soundtrack has no right to be as gorgeous, emotional, or quality as it is. This song, Lovers, is the younger sibling of Lolita’s theme, okay? Thematically, that’s kinda hilarious, but I mean it. If you like that song, give a few of the songs from this OST a chance.

BioShock, BioShock 2, and BioShock Infinite - BioShock 1&2 are different from Infinite. A lot more grungy, a lot more angry and discordant, the strings buzz and there’s a lot more horror to it all. Infinite, on the other hand, is very pretty. Infinite’s soundtrack is about the characters and their journey and feelings. The first two game’s soundtracks are about the ruined city of Rapture. It depends on what you’re in the mood for. I write using Infinite’s music more often, but there’s pieces in the first two that capture this empty, yearning feeling that is good for setting mood.

Pathologic - “Half Life’s soundtrack directed by Genghis Khan.” It’s bizarre. It’s grungy.

Void (Typrop) - Basically the same deal. I dunno man, I like being inspired by horror.

Outlast - It’s an orchestral horror game soundtrack. Like the game itself, there’s a lot of horror movie inspiration.

Dishonored 1 and Dishonored 2 - This is mostly background music. It’s a stealth game so it’s kinda uneasy, but I think there’s something really unique. Maybe the instruments? There’s a lot of weird sounds used.

Higurashi - This is a compilation of horror themed songs from the anime soundtrack, but the VN soundtrack and the non-horror stuff is pretty good, too. Michishirube is my favorite.

Madoka Magica Rebellion - The main anime soundtrack is gorgeous. The bells, the strings, the drama... I’m recommending Rebellion specifically because it’s the more cohesive and story-driven soundtrack. This one is not as horror-ish and weird than the others, it is very beautiful and nice to listen to. Sad, in some parts, too.

Code Geass and Resurrection - Brass? Got it. Dramatic strings? Got it. Bombastic set piece songs? Triple got it. This soundtrack oozes style. In some ways, that makes it not good for writing, but in others it can. Depends on what you’re writing. I think the melodrama can be incredibly useful for getting my mind in that frenzy state.

Okay I’m done. Thank you for bearing with me.

If we’re talking what songs inspire specific things, the Ferdinand piece was accompanied by a lot of the Diabolik Lovers soundtrack and Final Fantasy. When I wrote my sad Felix piece, it was all about Hollow Knight with a spot of Bloodborne and Dark Souls.

#personal #wow it's four pm and i have done nothing with my day #what a distraction #i love music

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yamithediaperdork · 3 years

Text

Cutest widdle champion (original characters)

As it always was in Midnight Eden, land of dreams and realm of Lulnyq, Goddess of Night, Shadows, and Darkness, the light was low, mostly from from street lamps as a trio of misshapen shadow blobs with bright red eyes that whenever possible avoided any of the dim light.

They were creatures known as nightmares, who used Midnight Eden for easy access into mortals dreams where they could gain power. Once they were rare and hardly seen in this blessed land atlas, hard times had befallen the once grand realm as the once Intermediate level Goddess had been reduced to a lesser god, and with her lost of power her army of angels who had once served her proudly had been reduced to a handful, and couldn't be everywhere at once.

Thankfully for the mortal's who's dreams would of been infested by this wicked trio, one of the remaining angels, nay, the greatest of them still loyally served his goddess and while he was angry at the lack of faith the mortal's put in his beloved Lulnyq, he would still protect them in her name.

Allimir had been tracking the three nightmares for half a hour now, blending into the shadows with ease as it was only of his gifts from her and had only refrained from assaulting them till now to make sure they weren't meeting up with more of their kind. Seeing them find what they were looking for, a crack in the realm that would make they're journey easier he flew up and came down in front of the trio.

His dark blue and black armor shone in the dim light while his blue on the outside and black on the inside cloak billowed out behind him as he drew his trusted Lance, dubbed Nightblade and pointed it at them.

"I don't suppose you three have obtained permission to visit the mortal realm have you? there ARE strict laws about that sort of thing." Allimir asked dryly.

The nightmares snarled and began to change shape, taking on hulking bipedal forms with sharp claws forming at the end of their arms, and large mouths filled with razor teeth.

"I'll take that as a no. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave then gentlemen." Allimir said politely, trying to give the monster the chance to save themselves.

"Kill the angel, then go to mortal realm?" the nightmare closet to him asked the other two.

"EAT the angel, then go." Said second closet.

"Kill!" the third snarled and tried to shove past his companions.

"-Sigh- Alright, but just remember I DID give you a chance." Allimir said, shaking his head.

Dashing forward he swung Nightblade, willing it NOT to kill, not yet at least, as he caught it across the chests of all three and sent them stumbling back into the full force of the street light,

they're monster forms weakened in the light and they howled, lashing out blindly as Allimir flew up out of they're called down to them.

"this is your LAST warning. Willing leave this place and never come back, nor attempt to enter the mortal realm and I will let you live. Refuse and I'll have no choice but to destroy you!" He warned.

"KILL THE ANGEL!" was the roar from all three and Allimir signed and nodded.

"Very well." he said.

Coming down fast and hard, Allimir willed his lance to kill, as the weapon responded to his will when it came to how lethal it was.

he came down hard point first, going though the middle of one of the nightmares, dispelling it and it faded away with a shriek.

Not leaving anything to chance even before he fully landed on his feet the angel lashed out with a sweeping motion and cut the second nightmare in half right where it's chest would be and it too was gone, leaving one.

"Wait! Mercy!" the creature whimpered, trying to back away.

Twirling Nightblade and pointing it at the remaining beast, Allimir shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but you were offered mercy before." he said then ended the battle with a final thrust.

Lulnyq sat on her throne, watching the events unfold and while she was pleased with the actions of her top angel, she was still somewhat unnerved that nightmares would be as bold as to come right into her city. If only she hadn't of gambled so much of her power and influence in the last tournament of champions things wouldn't be so bleak.

But in her defense she had been so SURE that her champion, would of swept though the other champions with ease instead of losing in his first match, within 20 seconds.

Having been boosting proudly of how powerful her champion was and how he'd make history to her sister the sun goddess, she'd proven right since it WAS the quickest defeat in the history of the tournament.

in the aftermath she'd been bumped down to not just a lesser goddess, but the bottom of the lesser god's and now was at risk of being made into a small goddess which would mean she wouldn't be trusted to run her own realm and a Intermediate god or goddess would have to over see her, and knowing her recent run of luck it would be her brat of a sister.

She had a nagging feeling that the quick defeat had been a set up, enforced by the fact her champion had ditched her after the tournament to become a worshiper of her sister.

"My Goddess, I'm back!" Came the voice of Allimir, and instantly she felt her gloomy thoughts leave.

Yes, the last years tournament of champions hadn't gone her way, but THIS time she had a ace up her sleeve.

Allimir could tell as he walked in and knelt that his beloved Goddess had been brooding again. He wished she wouldn't focus so much on the past but short of telling her to snap out of it (Something he would never in a million years do) the best he could do was act silly at times to try and cheer her up.

"I witnessed your battle, you've proven yourself worthy as always, and in fact, you've done more then that. You've proven yourself worthy of a honor that I know you've been wanting for awhile, but never asked for it because you didn't think it was you place." she said, winking and smiling warmly.

Allimir blushed a little at the teasing tone in her voice. Sometimes despite her height and build, and her long regal black hair and star and moon filled eyes he could almost forget that she was a goddess with how warm and teasing she could be.

"I would never presume to-" Allimir started to say but then his goddess was right in front of him, amazing him as it always did that with her er.. ample backside she could move so quick.

"Ah ah ah, stop being so stuffy and formal. I'm about to give you the great honor of being my champion!" She coo'ed and tapped a finger on his nose and despite himself, Allimir giggled.

regaining his composure, Allimir bowed and then looked up smiling.

"It'll be my honor to serve as your champion my Goddess, and I swear to fight and win for your glory!" He vowed.

"Well duh, I wouldn't be picking you if I thought you were gonna fight and lose for my glory." the semi Chaotic goddess giggled and blew a raspberry. "Now this might sting a little.." She said, taking a few steps back.

"It'll be worth it."

making a finger gun with her left arm and putting her right hand on her forearm to steady it, she closed one of her eyes and stuck her tongue out then a blast of black energy with stars mixed into fired out and stuck Allimir, overwhelming him with new found power even as the world seemed to spin all around him.

"No Longer shall you be called Allimir, strongest of my angel. rise up my new champion and serve your goddess well..Umbraby!" Lulnyq intoned, and walked over to her new champion.

the being once known as Allimir was woozy at first, but looked up with pride to his goddess who suddenly.. seemed like a semi giant to him.

"My goddess, why did..you..What's wrong with my voice?!" Umbraby squeaked.

he'd never had the deepest of voice before but now he sounded like a little boy! Looking down down at his hands he could see they were covered in purple gloves and he was wearing a grayish long sleeve tight shirt, that was fair enough, but it was the SIZE of his arm and hands that had his eyes going wide.

that and as he looked down, he could make out a blueish purple loose shirt over the grayish one and stocking that came up to his mid upper thigh's, colored again grayish.

he seemed to be wearing a hooded black clock and he could feel material on his face which would of indicted he was wearing a mask of some sort.

All this he took in within second but what had his stopped dead in his tracks and eyes going wide even as Lulnyq smiled warmly and giggled, was the massive puffy white DIAPER around his hips at the moment.

"M-M-My goddess, I..what.. " he stammered.

"Shhh it's ok~" She coo'ed, picking him up and cradling him in her arms.

the realization that she hadn't gone, rather he'd been shrunk.. no not even that, but turned into a toddler hit him hard like a ton of bricks.

"I..You..Why am I a toddler!?" he cried out, bottom lip trembling and huffing and blushing.

Normally he would of NEVER raised his voice to his beloved Goddess but his new form while he could feel the additional power, clearly lacked the emotional maturity he'd always had.

"What, you don't like the form I chose?" Lulnyq asked, frowning and pouting a little.

guilt washed over him instantly, and he tried to back track when as she rocked him and despite himself his eyelids were starting to get heavy.

"I..No I just..I was shocked..Um.. I'm sure you had a very good reason for this form mo- I mean my goddess!" He said, almost calling Lulnyq mommy.

"heh, you almost called me mommy!" Lulnyq giggled, taping a finger on his little nose and making him blush and squirm. "Actually, I think I like that.. from now on your to address me as Mom or mommy, Understand Umbraby?"

Umbraby mentally whined and squirmed, so much was happening so fast for the little ex angel now champion. Still, it was a order from his beloved Goddess and he knew he couldn't disobey.

"As you wish." he said, and she looked down at him, waiting. "...Mommy."

Lulnyq squealed with glee and cuddled him close, which while embarrassing and unexpected wasn't half bad.

the only thing that kept him from truly enjoying the cuddles with his go- His mommy, was the thick diaper crinkling around his hips.

"Who's the cutest widdle super duper champion of all time? you are! yes you are!" She was coo'ed and tickling his chin which forced giggles out of him.

"Hehehehe me! I am!" he replied instinctively then blinked and swallowed. "M-Mommy I have a question!" He said, getting her to stop for the moment at least.

"Oh? Ask away, you'll find me a well of information both great and silly." Lulnyq said, smiling all silly.

"..Why am I in a diaper?" Umbraby asked, a whining tone to his voice. "I mean, not to question you, but I've never needed one before, so why now?"

"oh, that's easy!" Mommy said and giggled. "in your old form much like most angels and gods of any level, while you ate and drank you body used what you took in so well you never made waste or needed to tinkle. And that's all fine and good if you're just going to serve in the godly realms. " she paused and sat down in her throne, sitting him up on her lap before going on. "however, the contest is held in the mortal realm and ergo you needed a body that could go there and handled it. Since you've never had to worry about potty training before, I'm just playing it safe and keeping you diapered."

Umbraby hmmmed and nodded, and was about to tell mommy that that made lots of sense when she went on.

"Plus I thought you'd look totally adorable and cute, I've always wanted to diaper you!" She added and pinched his cheek.

'And there it is..' Umbraby thought dryly though he endured the cheek pinching.

With everything explained out to her widdle champion, Lulnyq decided it was time to feed the little champ in the making, his tummy was growling and she wasn't about to let him go night night all hungry!

Poofing a large bottle of rich creamy milk that had been warmed just right out of thin air, she started cradling Umbraby in one arm and moved the ba-ba towards his mouth.

"M-Mommy I promise you I can feed myself!" he whined, cheeks flaring with a adorable blush.

"Oh But I insist! you're going to restore my glory, the least I can do is give you your ba-ba and burp you." She coo'ed.

She could see he wanted to fuss and argue but like the good widdle champion he was, he just nodded his head and opened him mouth.

he seemed to struggle a bit at first trying to adjust to drink from the rubber nipple and so she used a bit more of her skill and power to give him a infant urge to nurse, a trait she had left out at first.

with his new 'power up' so to speak Umbraby was chugging down his ba-ba like a champ, though Lulnyq could see she was gonna have to burp him with all the air bubbles he was making.

"Easy there little guy, it's not going anywhere, you don't have to force it all down at once.." She teased giggling.

Umbraby mumbled something with the bottles nipple in his mouth making milk run down the sides of his milk.

"I can see somebodies gonna be a sloppy eater. don't worry, I'll have lots and lots of bibs for you." She coo'ed, making a napkin appear and dabbing at the little guys chin and making sure none of the milk went onto his little uniform.

even as she did that she had a 'duh' moment and nodded her head slightly, his uniform was gone leaving just his diapers now.

"I don't know why I didn't think of that to begin with! Mommies a silly butt huh?" She giggled and tickled the blushing champ's tummy tum.

Umbraby tried to protest he wanted his gosh darn clothes back, but the ba-ba was just too good to give up. As mommy kept feeding him and made the comment about being a silly butt he found himself giggling and nodding as much as he could.

The rich creamy milk was just so good though it was filling him up in a different way then he'd ever felt before, something he suspected had to do with the fact he'd be -ugh- expelling it back out of his body.

he wasn't sure what to expect when that happened and he wasn't looking forward to it though as the bottle drained to it's last little bit he furrowed his eyebrows getting a confused look on his face as his crotch was getting all warm and damp.

"Hmm?What's wrong little one?" Mommy asked, pulling the basically finished ba-ba out of his mouth with a popping sound as his lips didn't wanna let go.

"I.. My diapie feels weird." Umbraby said and then squirmed more, his chest starting to feel owie. "My chest hurts too."

His Mommy goddess just smiled and poked a finger in the leg hole of the diaper before shifting him around, a towel over one shoulder now and resting his head on it.

"It's ok, you just had your first piddle accident. and the chest thing is you need to be burped because of all the air bubbles you took in." She explained, patting his back softly.

Umbraby blushed bright red at that.

"I..I piddled myself already!? But I didn't even feel it! and Mommy, I don't think it's a burp, I know how to bu-" Umbraby whined, squirming and about to say he could burp himself when a LARGE belch escaped from his mouth, echoing in the royal chamber.

"You were saying?" Mommy asked, amused.

"...Never mind." Umbraby said, burying his face in her shoulder. he had wet himself and belched like a total pig in front of his goddess.

'There was no WAY this could possibly get any worse.' Umbraby thought, tempting fate and as he would soon learn, little boys in diapers shouldn't do that.

Lulnyq was patting her little champion's back, coo'ing and reassuring him everything was going to be alright when a loud brassy fart erupted from his backside, again echoing in the chamber.

"oh my, someones gas powered tonight~" she teased lightly.

before Umbraby could go to defend his gas attack however several more poots escaped and the back of his diaper started to puff out and sag as she held him.

"Ah! Mommy! something's coming out of my butt! My insides are leaking out!" Umbraby cried out, sounding scared and she had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing.

"Shhh, it's ok silly. it's called pooping. you're having your first" and she mentally added 'of many' "Stinky diaper. It's ok." she coo'ed.

"THIS is what p-pooping feels like!?" Umbraby cried and whined, squirming in her arms. "And mortals do it all the time!?"

"well not ALL the time, depends on their diet.." Lulnyq said.

"I hate it! make it stoppp!" Umbraby cried, blubbering now like the little boy he looked like.

"Awww, it's ok. don't worry. Mommies here." She coo'ed and kissed her stinky little champion.

NOT the end.

AN: these characters do NOT belong to me, but are Lancetheyoung's. ^^

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hyunllx · 4 years

Text

The Christmas Baker

A Hyunlix Hallmark Fic Chapter 5/5 wc: 4.9k

Hwang Hyunjin is a rich, cocky, famous dancer that prefers to keep to himself during the holidays. When his roommate drags him along to visit his hometown, however, Hyunjin meets a boy who helps him believe in the spirit of the season. Primarily Hyunjin’s pov with Felix’s pov added in occasionally. series warnings: Extremely cliche. You will probably cringe at some points but its okay. chapter warnings: None, just super cheesy :) note: This fic is not meant to accurately reflect or portray the members of SKZ. This is just for fun.

Read the last chapter here

|--------------------Felix--------------------|

“Do we have to go?” Felix couldn’t help the whine in his throat as he let Chan push his body into his coat. He winced slightly at the pulling on his wrist when the sleeve passed over it, the pain of the fresh injury having caught up with him over the last 24 hours.

“Yes we have to go. You know you’re going to regret it if you don’t.” Chan paused as he held up Lix’s gloves, realizing he wasn’t going to be able to get them on over the cast. He stuffed them into his hoodie’s pouch after a moment and pulled a beanie onto his little brother’s head instead, “Besides, don’t you want to be there for Hyunjin’s first time at the party?”

Felix let out a small huff as he let his brother dress him like a child; it was easier to have help, even if a little embarrassing. He was right too, Felix DID want to be there with Hyunjin. He knew Hyunjin didn’t care much for the holiday, but the little school-boy crush in him wanted desperately to show him a good time, even if he was hurt.

"Yeah, I guess… I just know everyones gonna be disappointed about the cookies…"

"No, don't think that Lix. Even if Seungmin got only one batch done everyone will be happy to see that you're okay."

The door behind them opened as Chan finished speaking, a tightly bundled Hyunjin rushing in and almost knocking into them,

"Ah! You guys are almost ready!"

Felix looked at the taller boy curiously; since he'd got home from the clinic, Hyunjin had been in and out constantly all day and night. He'd return home for a quick meal or a nap, or to watch Felix as he slept himself, but he was gone again within a few hours, leaving Felix very little time to talk to him. Felix missed him when he was gone, a dangerous thing to feel given Hyunjin was still thinking about his own feelings, but he couldn't help it. When he saw Hyunjin's face light up as their gazes met, he hoped Hyunjin missed him too.

"Chan-hyung," Hyunjin turned his eyes to Chan, who immediately perked up. Felix blinked in surprise, looking between them; since arriving Hyunjin hadn't used such casual, affectionate language before. It was new… but Felix liked hearing him happy and comfortable nonetheless, "Um, some people want you at the town hall immediately. I can bring Felix in a little bit, but you should go meet them as soon as possible."

"Who?" Felix interjected. They were up to something; he could see the twitching at the corner of Chan's mouth that he gets when trying not to smile.

"I'm sure it's just last minute changes, Lixie. I'll go now, thank you Hyunjin."

"Hyung…" Chan gave his forehead a quick goodbye kiss and managed to escape Felix's grasp as he reached for his brother's coat. Hyunjin didn't help, draping a long arm across Felix's shoulders to guide him into the dining room, "Why can't we all just go together?"

Hyunjin paused, clearly not having thought about that before in whatever he was planning,

"Uh, I have something I wanna do first. Here, put your arm on the table."

Felix let out another sigh but obeyed, taking a seat and stretching out his arm as much as he could with the cast, "Like this?"

"Yeah. Now let me just fi- Ah!" Hyunjin shuffled through the many pockets on his thick coat until he produced a thick, black sharpie marker.

With great care not to twist too much, Hyunjin took Felix's arm in his hand and turned it over until his inner wrist was face-up. A hot blush bloomed across Lix's cheeks when Hyunjin popped the marker cap off with his teeth, using the black ink to write something he couldn't yet see on his cast. He felt as though he were back in middle school, having the popular boy sign his cast to sport the signature in front of everyone.

One proud grin later, Hyunjin pulled away to show Felix his message. Though the thick marker smeared a bit over the rough surface of the cast, his forearm read:

Felix, Get well soon so we can dance together. Merry Christmas Hyunjin.

Accompanying the words was a heart drawn directly over his broken wrist. Felix felt as though his own heart may burst,

"What's this?"

"Just a little motivation to get better." Hyunjin snapped the cap back on the marker, avoiding his gaze. His ears were red and he rocked nervously on his heels. He was so incredibly…. cute. Felix wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

Not now. Not today. He reminded himself Hyunjin was still sorting out his feelings.

"Is this an official signature?" He teased instead, eliciting a giggle from Hyunjin,

"Technically yeah, I dunno how much it'll sell for-" His words cut off with a surprised gasp as Felix stood up and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Thank you, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin hesitated; Felix knew he understood the deeper meaning, he didn't need to hear anything in return. After a few rapid heartbeats, Hyunjin wound his arms around Felix in return, crushing him into the thick, squishy coat he still wore. Felix buried his face into the warmth of his chest for a moment, savouring the slip of affection more than he knew he should.

"So uhh…" Hyunjin stuttered, visibly flustered as he broke the embrace, "Are you ready to go?"

Felix nodded, letting Hyunjin lead him outside and down to the driveway. It was dark outside, long past evening and the moon and stars covered in a thick blanket of dark clouds. Despite the black sky above, the town was brightly lit with millions of little glowing bulbs lining the streets. Felix grinned at the sight, feeling lighter and more excited about the party than he had inside.

The only problem was the bitter cold.

As they walked, a breeze stirred in the air, not strong but deeply cold. It bit and stung Felix's cheeks and exposed skin,

"Ah shit…" He groaned as his fingers ached, fumbling the zipper of one of his jacket pockets, "Channie took my gloves with him…"

"Here…" Hyunjin's eyebrows knit together in concern as he plucked off one of his mittens. Felix opened his mouth to reject the mitten, not wanting Hyunjin to have to suffer the cold too, only to have his words halted when Hyunjin's hand slipped into his.

The taller boy winced as Felix's cold flesh pressed against his own, but continued to lace their fingers together. His large hand enveloped Felix's palm, warming his skin. Ears turning red with the sudden intimacy, Felix ducked his head, biting back a smile.

"Is this okay?" Hyunjin asked, his voice timid.

"This is perfect."

They continued to walk in shy silence, Felix's heartbeat roaring so loudly in his ears he was convinced Hyunjin could hear it too. Occasionally they would dare to spare a look at each other, catching the other's eye just to look away. Each time the grip on each other's hand grew tighter, more afraid to let go.

Is this his way of telling me he made up his mind? Felix wondered to himself. He didn't want to voice the thought aloud in case it wasn't true. He had to wait for Hyunjin to be ready to say it. No matter how painful the wait was.

They made their way to the center of town where the town hall stood among the maze of shoveled paths. The windows were all lit up orange and red and warm white, lights and ribbon strung around every tree and hedge and post, drawing them in with the promise of fun and warmth.

Except the sight of the building so close caused the anxiety to gnaw at Felix’s gut again.

“What’s wrong?” They paused at the bottom of the stairs, Hyunjin sensing his hesitation as his steps slowed and his grip grew weaker.

“I’m… really worried people are going to be disappointed to see me. Since I didn’t get to finish setting up everything.” He admitted with a sigh, his breath swirling around him in the cold, “I don’t like letting people down.”

“Hey…” Hyunjin frowned, slipping his hand out of Felix’s to pull him into a side-hug. Felix’s ears grew white-hot at the sudden affection, his hand clutching onto Hyunjin’s coat, “Do you trust me?”

Felix blinked at the question. It felt odd, like he should suspect something was wrong. Yet as he looked up into Hyunjin’s warm, smiling eyes, he knew he did, unquestionably.

“Yes, I trust you.”

“Then trust I wouldn’t bring you here if I thought it would upset you.”

Before Felix could ask what he meant by that, Hyunjin grabbed his hand again and pulled him up the steps to the grand entrance to the old building. The doors were closed, which he found odd, and they both had to push to get them open. Blinking against the assault of brilliant decorations lighting the entire entry hall, Felix stood in the doorway for a moment, dumbfounded at the sight before him.

“Merry Christmas, Felix!” Everyone who had gathered for the event was crowded in the room, dressed up in their santa hats and cheesy sweaters, and all looking at him with the happiest smiles. His neighbours, his employees, his friends, everyone was there and greeted him with a chorus of cheers. Above them hung the typical “Happy Holidays” banner that was used every year, though with a new addition. A second crudely-yet-endearingly-made banner hung from the bottom of the thick fabric:

Get Well Soon Felix

At the center of the entryway, sitting under the standard tree, was a board with papers and notes of various colours pinned up under a sign reading “Dear Felix Lee:” He walked into the crowd, accepting the hugs and high-fives and head rubs from the people he loved so dearly as he passed, until he got to the board.

Just from glancing over them, most of the letters echoed the sentiment of wanting him to get well and recover. Some letters thanked him for running the bakery, or for being so kind. Some called him an essential part of the community. All of them conveyed unconditional love.

Tears welled in his eyes, a wave of relief and overwhelming love crashing over him, lifting the burden of anxiety from his shoulders. No one was disappointed in him… they were worried. The whole town, worried about him.

Seungmin broke away from the crowd and bounced up to Felix excitedly, the bells hanging from his reindeer antler headband jingling over the music playing deeper in the hall.

“What do you think? Were you surprised?”

“Seungminnie... how- how did you do all this?”

“Actually… it was his idea.” Seungmin grinned, pointing behind Felix to where Hyunjin still stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“Hyunjin? Did this?” Felix blinked several times, his brain unable to process that statement.

“Ah… I have to admit, he also did most of those.” Draping an arm across Felix’s shoulders, Seungmin turned him to face the wall lined with tables of food and drink. At the center of it all was a familiar long table and display case both piled high with hundreds of cookies of various shapes and sizes. Several kids crowded around the table armed with plastic bags of brightly coloured frosting as they decorated their treats. Just like any other year. Like nothing happened.

The tears in his eyes spilled over, and Felix started to cry.

|--------------------Hyunjin--------------------|

Hyunjin lingered in the doorway, watching as Felix took in the surprise everyone had worked so hard to make for him. He was cold and tired, but it still felt odd walking into such a personal celebration. He was still an outsider.

“Hyunjinnie? What are you doing?” Hyunjin didn’t notice Chan escape the crowd until his hand rested on his shoulder, startling him.

“Oh… uh, I’m not sure.” Chan followed his gaze to where Felix and Seungmin were speaking excitedly,

“Go to him.”

“What?”

“Come on, Hyunjin. You did all this for him. You need to tell him.”

Hyunjin didn’t need to be asked twice when Felix turned to look at him, tears glittering under the glowing lights illuminating the hall. He was at Seungmin’s side in an instant, pushing his way through the crowd with his heart racing.

“What’s wrong?” Felix rubbed the tears from his eyes with his sleeve as he saw Hyunjin approach, Seungmin’s face lighting up,

“Um… I’ll go find Minho and give you two a minute.” He gave Hyunjin a reassuring pat on the shoulder before slipping into the crowd, a friendly gesture that still felt so surreal. He’d spent so much time with Felix’s best friend over the last two days, they felt like friends themselves.

“What the matter?” Hyunjin repeated to Felix this time, his heart aching as he watched the small boy try in vain to wipe his tears away.

“I- I can’t believe you did all this… For me?” Hyunjin dropped his eyes, ears burning with embarrassment under his beanie,

“I felt really bad that you couldn’t finish something you were looking forward to so badly. Especially because I feel like it was partially my fault. Seungmin, Minho, and Chan helped a lot.”

“Thank you so much.” Felix tugged him into a tight hug, burying his face into Hyunjin’s chest. He was sure it was to hide his tears, yet he couldn’t complain. He embraced Felix tightly, resting his chin atop his head.

“Thank you for always being so kind to me.”

Felix giggled shyly as he pulled away, his cheeks red now from rubbing his tears off them. Hyunjin took the smaller boy’s face in his hands and used his thumbs to gently do so instead. Not even two days ago, he would’ve considered the action a mistake. It would’ve made him panic at the way his heart pounds and his tummy flutters. The way a dizzy warmness spreads through his veins.

But today… today when he saw the look of pure affection in Felix’s chocolate brown eyes, it brought Hyunjin nothing but joy.

"How are we all doing?" Chan’s voice boomed over a mic and speakers at the back of the hall, startling them both. They giggled shyly to themselves as the crowd cheered, everyone’s attention turning to the platform where Chan stood, set up with his laptop and DJ equipment, which Hyunjin had come to find took up most of his obnoxious amount of luggage,

“Good! Good. It’s really great to be home again to see everyone, especially at this time of year. Um, as you all know, we’re not just here to celebrate Christmas Eve tonight, we’re gathered to celebrate someone very special to my heart. Someone that’s very special to all of us.”

The crowd cheered again, making Felix’s ear turn red and his fingers fumble bashfully with the hem of his jacket. Hyunjin’s heart swelled at the love flooding the room for this boy he cared for so deeply. He wanted to make sure Felix never stopped feeling that love.

Feeling HIS love.

Hyunjin couldn’t deny it anymore. He loved Felix. Relief washed over him like a warm bath, comforting and healing. If only he could make it through tonight… through this party with all these people around… Hyunjin made up his mind to tell Felix when they returned home.

“If you don’t mind, I’ve had a request to play one of his favourite songs. I’d like to play it now, before people start getting tired. You’re welcome to come dance along if you would like. Please enjoy yourselves.”

Claps of excitement rose from the crowd as they parted around the two of them, giving Felix a path to the empty space in front of Chan used as a small dance floor. A smile touched Hyunjin’s lips as the track began to play; the last time he’d heard it he was sat on a couch in Felix’s bakery, watching snow flutter in the wind and waiting for the sweetest boy to bring him something to eat. Felix’s eyes also lit up as he recognized the song, though a frown quickly replaced the smile forming on his lips,

“Ah man… I wish I could dance to this.”

“Why can’t you?” Felix lifted his hand that was trapped inside the pink cast, cocking his head,

“It’s not exactly going to feel good if I try.” Hyunjin smiled gently at him in response, taking his uninjured hand and giving it a gentle squeeze,

“Trust me?”

“I told you I do.”

“Then come dance with me.” Felix nodded cautiously, letting Hyunjin lead him out onto the dance floor. Other couples and kids had already ventured out, swaying or bouncing along to the music in their own little worlds, only acknowledging them enough to not bump into them.

Hyunjin felt more confident like this; he liked the way people in the crowd turned to watch them curiously, and the way the music felt coursing through his muscles. It buzzed in him as if he were preparing to go on stage. The adrenaline before a performance was like anything else in the world. At least he’d thought so until he’d fallen in love. Now both mixed in his chest as he guided Felix’s hands to his shoulders and wrapped his own arms around the small boy’s waist, creating a cocktail of joy and comfort and safety in his body that he’d never thought he’d ever feel.

“Is this okay?” He mumbled, swaying their bodys slightly to the slow pace of the song. He was sure they looked like school kids at their first dance together, but he didn’t care. He felt just as giddy as he would’ve if they were kids.

“Mmm… yeah. This is good.” Felix tucked his head under Hyunjin’s chin, leaning against his chest. Hyunjin didn’t mind the pressure, he relished in Felix’s body heat pressing into him, the way their breathing slowly fell into sync with each other as they enjoyed the moment in silence. As they swayed to the music, Hyunjin caught Chan’s eye from his little stage setup; he was watching them with the biggest smile Hyunjin had ever seen him make. His best friend lifted a thumbs-up, and Hyunjin returned it, the fluttering in his stomach spreading throughout his entire body.

“This is really nice.” Felix murmured against Hyunjin’s chest, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

“Yeah, it is.”

“I wish we could do this forever…” Hyunjin could tell by Felix’s tone that he was testing him, poking the waters to see if he would confess his feelings. With a sigh, Hyunjin slipped one hand up Felix’s back to cradle the back of his head, fingers massaging his scalp gently to prompt him to look up.

Their eyes met, and Hyunjin couldn’t help but notice how close their faces were… how easy it would be to lean in and kiss him…

No… that would be unfair to such a sensitive, sweet boy like Felix. Hyunjin knew he had to wait.

“Listen… Can we talk later? When we’re alone… I don’t want to have this conversation in front of all these people, okay?” Felix’s face started to fall so he quickly added, “It’s not bad, I promise. I just… would rather it be private.”

A spark of hope flickered in Felix’s smile as he nodded, sliding his arms from Hyunjin’s shoulder to his neck, dragging him down into a tight hug. Hyunjin buried his face into the crook of the boy’s neck, taking in his sweet, sugary scent and his warmth. He felt peaceful like this, like he was home for the first time.

“Do you mind if I steal him for a minute?” A voice interrupted their embrace as the song ended, Seungmin having walked up to them while they were lost in each other. His puppy face was lit up with an approving smile, stifling a little of the embarrassment that was heating Hyunjin’s face, “There’s some friends who want to see Lixie.”

“Oh yeah… of course. Um… I’ll be over with the cookies if you need me.”

“I’ll find you.” Felix promised, his eyes lingering on Hyunjin as Seungmin led him away until the crowd swallowed them both.

Sparks lingered on Hyunjin’s skin where their bodies were touching for so long, making him giddy as he skipped over to his post. For the first time in his life the christmas tunes that Chan played didn't seem so grating. He understood the joy and the warmth. Though he didn't have nostalgia about the holiday, Hyunjin found himself looking forward to making new memories.

He hoped they would be with Felix.

Hyunjin didn't know how much time had passed that he sat in one of the chairs behind the table stacked high with frosting and cookies. It must've been awhile because he didn't realize he'd dozed off until the metal legs of another chair scraped across the floor next to him. He nearly jumped out of his skin, and seeing it was Minho who'd come to join him definitely didn't settle his unease.

They didn't spend much time together over the last couple days, Minho being focused helping Chan set up the hall while Hyunjin stayed in the bakery with Seungmin. The little time they did spend together, Hyunjin saw a soft side to him when he spoke to his boyfriend and when he was thinking about Felix. He wasn't so intimidatingly cold, but he clearly did not trust outsiders. Hyunjin couldn't blame him for that, he respected it.

Minho spoke, dragging Hyunjin further out of his sleepy daze. He tried to push the drowsiness away as the days of work and little rest rapidly caught up to him,

"Hm?"

"I said, he really likes you. Felix. I don't know if you know, but I've never seen him look at someone like he looks at you." Hyunjin swallowed, meeting Minho’s intense gaze as he spoke.

“Um… I think I like him too to be honest…”

A heavy palm slapped onto Hyunjin’s shoulder, startling him before he could even begin to feel the embarrassment of admitting his feelings aloud to someone else. Minho’s hands were only slightly larger than Felix’s, but his grip was strong enough to make Hyunjin quiver,

“Felix is more than just Channie’s little brother. He’s family. I love that little boy and if you hurt him you’re going to regret it.”

Hyunjin fought the instinct to turtle into his coat and hide from the intense gaze pinning him to the chair, swallowing as he managed to hold eye contact. He knew Minho was testing him, trying to see if he’d crumble and run. But he didn’t want to, he never wanted to.

“I know. If I hurt him I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.” Minho silently held his gaze for a moment before his eyes softened, a smile entertaining his lips,

“Correct answer. Welcome to the family. I better be able to trust you.”

Hyunjin blinked rapidly in shock at the sudden shift. Minho had been nothing but closed off with him since they first met, yet now he was extending a timid warmth to him. He looked friendly even. Hyunjin felt incredibly privileged,

“I uh… yes. Yes, you can trust me.”

“Minho-hyung!” Felix’s voice cut through the music as he bounced up to them, his face alight with his brilliant grin but his eyes wary as he glanced between them, “You’re not scaring Hyunjin, are you?”

“No, he’s alright.” Minho smiled as he pulled Felix into his lap, holding him by the waist as the younger boy wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steady himself, “Are you having a good time?”

Felix nodded, grinning at the both of them. Hyunjin’s heart fluttered watching him be so cuddly with his close friend, he looked so small, vulnerable, and unbelievably cute. Though he couldn’t deny the small pang of jealousy in his belly.

“I haven’t tried the cookies yet!” Lix complained, prompting Minho to scoot a little closer to the table. Hyunjin joined them as Felix reached for the nearest tray of star-shaped cookies. Seungmin had pre-decorated these ones with gold and silver frosting, and tiny glittering sprinkles in matching colours. He picked out three and passed them out between each of them, making a happy little noise as he bit into the treat.

Hyunjin held his breath as Felix took a moment to chew slowly, savoring and analyzing the flavors. He swallowed and a warm smile broke across his face,

“Hyunjin, these taste so good!” Lix looked up at him as if in awe, taking another bite like he couldn’t believe it. Hyunjin squirmed with embarrassment, biting into his own cookie,

“I guess I had a good teacher…”

Felix beamed at him, finishing his cookie with large, hungry bites. When he finished, he used the parchment lining the tray to wrap up the remaining cookies and stick them in his pocket for later.

“I’m starting to feel tired though. It’s close to midnight.” he whined, resting his head against Minho’s to punctuate his point.

“That’s funny, I caught Hyunjin sleeping just a few minutes ago.” Minho teased. Hyunjin opened his mouth to protest, but Felix let out a loud yawn that cut him off,

“Maybe we should head home a little early?”

“If you want to leave now, I’ll walk you home.” Hyunjin offered, making Felix perk up with a smile,

"Okay, I'd like that." Minho helped Felix off his lap, giving him a playful swat on the butt,

"Be careful, no more accidents." Felix squeaked and giggled, giving his friend a quick hug,

"I'll be okay Hyung, Hyunjin is with me."

Their fingers naturally locking together, Hyunjin let Felix lead him through the crowd and out into the night. The breeze had died while they were in the party, taking the edge of bitterness out of the cold air. Still, the boys huddled together as they walked, both for warmth and the comfort of each other's proximity.

Felix talked about the letters he'd read and the signatures from friends that he'd accumulated on his cast through the night. Hyunjin really did desperately try to listen, yet with every step he took closer to the house, the more his brain melted into pudding as he realized he was getting closer and closer to having to confess his feelings.

Why am I so anxious? He asked himself, I already know how he'll react. I've already admitted how I feel.

The driveway came into view. Hyunjin thought he might throw up.

"Thank you again for everything you did." Felix said as they shuffled up toward the house, "You really didn't have to do all of that."

Hyunjin paused, stopping Felix and making him look up, confused at his sudden hesitation.

"Yes, I did." He sighed, building the courage to look Felix in the eye. The boy cocked his head, sensing the seriousness in Hyunjin's tone, "I already told you this but I do like you… a lot. In an overwhelming sort of way. It really scared me to know you were hurt. I realized that no matter how hard I tried to push my feelings away, they were just going to keep growing. I- I think I'm falling in love with you, Felix. And I want to be with you. It's the only thing I want."

“Hyunjin…” Felix’s voice was gentle, warm, his eyes welling with tears much like Hyunjin’s own, “I’m falling in love with you too.”

“Do you- Do you think we can try to work this out?” He hated the way his voice broke with the nerves and overwhelming sense of joy pulsing through him.

“I would really like that.”

Floodgates opened somewhere inside Hyunjin and all the love and desire he’d been holding back crashed through his system, washing away his doubts and fears. The crushing tide brought back the need to hold Felix, to kiss him and never let go. He didn’t need to stop himself anymore. One hand lifted to rest against the smaller boy’s cheek, pulling him in like gravity until their lips touched for the first time. Felix’s arms wrapped around Hyunjin’s neck, pulling him even closer, deepening the kiss with a content sigh.

All Hyunjin could think about was how his lips tasted like sugar, how when their tongues found each other, he tasted like vanilla and butter. His lips were so soft, his happy little moans and gasps the sweetest music Hyunjin had ever heard. He wanted to stay in this moment for the rest of his life.

They finally broke away when something cold and wet settled on Hyunjin’s cheek, then again on his nose, and his knuckles. Chest heaving, he looked up as snowflakes drifted down from the dark clouds above, swirling around them gently. Felix let out an excited laugh, the flakes settling on his freckles and long eyelashes. He was so beautiful.

I can’t believe he’s mine.

“Felix? Merry Christmas.” The small boy beamed at him with a grin that rivaled all the lights in the town,

“Merry Christmas, Hyunjin.”

#stray kids #skz #skz fanfic #skz au #lee felix #hyunjin #hyunlix #hyunlix fic #mine #my fic #the christmas baker #its finally done #three months late and out of season fdhdjfh #im such a slow writer im so sorry #thank you to everyone that stuck with me to read this #i hope the ending is satisfying enough #ngl i needed to stick that hyunholix scene in there because it felt weird shipping minho with someone else now that i ship them all jdhfkjd

47 notes · View notes

moskaisley · 4 years

Text

migraine pt. 6 | vertigo

rating: NC-17 kinda

word count: 7k........

warnings: a smidge of smut, angst, canon-typical violence (someone’s arm gets bROKE), cursing, REAL SOFT SHIT, a lil homage to filipino lolas everywhere

a/n:

i know..this is v late so i’ll just cut to the chase.... she’s finally here and i’m finally happy with it so that’s all that matters. thank you all for being incredibly patient ily 🥺💘

summary:

“You never liked being angry with him and now you understood why; it always took so much energy. It kept your heart in a perpetual state of tension, and you couldn’t figure out if you wanted to cry or scream. It has you wondering, how did you keep that up for three damn years? “

Where it converges and collides and slowly comes back together, little by little.

parts 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

ao3 link / masterlist

“I’m gonna fucking die.”

“Quit being dramatic.”

“It’s hot.”

“I know.”

“Mando?”

“What.”

“We’re lost.”

Din’s jaw clenches, and he briefly looks over his shoulder to shoot you a cold glare. You two had been hiking all day, getting lost in twisting canyons in the high desert heat and bickering with each other about which way was north. Din insisted this was a faster way through and it would be easier to catch the bounty off guard on the other side. You, however, were adamant on the fact that the old woman in the cantina warned you of the thick forest nested in the valley, and that many had gotten lost trying to travel to the other side. He ultimately got his way, but the further you two crept into the chasm, the more disoriented you became. That, combined with the blazing heat on your skin, made for a very bitter argument in which you both came to a steely silence for a few miles.

A few hours later, the sky had just begun to dip below the horizon, and you stopped in your tracks at a faint crashing sound in the distance.

“Hey, do you hear that?” Startled at the sudden call of your voice, he whipped to you and tilted his head curiously. Din stills and watches as you crane your neck to hear where the noise is coming from. You completely ignore his calls to you when you shuffle off path into a thicket of trees and rocks. Din huffs in frustration and begrudgingly follows behind you, cursing under his breath at the fact that the bounty is probably long gone by now and that he’s gonna chew your ear off for wasting more time.

But the words die on his tongue when he sees you in awe of a towering, roaring waterfall cascading into a crystal clear pool at your feet. Trees surround the small shore, and wild grass and weeds sprout in patches along the smooth sand. The air was cool and crisp, and if he strained his ears, Din could hear birds fluttering amongst the treetops.

It was an oasis, probably untouched for decades, and you’d inadvertently found it by getting lost.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

A tender feeling bloomed in his chest when you turned and gave him an excited smile. In an instant, all of the arguing and nonsense from earlier had melted away. It was an image he’d commit to memory: the sight of you smiling beautifully in this hidden desert paradise.

“Yeah,” he says, “Yeah, it is.”

It was also the perfect place to set up camp. Seeing as you could barely navigate the forest in the day, you both knew you couldn’t continue your trek through the night, so you settled down in a clearing beneath a few trees and right off the side of the shore. Dusk had started to fall by the time you were all set up. As Din stoked the flames of the small fire, he caught you casually stripping in the corner of his eye, breath hitching at the sight of your bare skin.

“What are you doing?” He asks dumbly.

“Washing off,” you say “Why? Wanna join me?”

You neatly fold your pants and put them on a mossy rock, leaving you only in your underwear and bandeau.

“Tempting, but I’m good.”

“Suit yourself.”

Din continues uselessly poking at the fire as he tries his best not to stare. Even if he’s had sex with you and seen you naked on multiple occasions, it’s instinct to respect your privacy. But he’ll still catch glimpses of you splashing around in his peripheral. The curve of your ass, your hair, the contours of your stomach...Maker, you were so fucking pretty.

“Having fun there, Mando?”

Din scoffs and stands up, striding over to the edge of the water.

“I’m fine, you?”

“It’s nice. You should come in with me.”

“Not in this, I can’t,” he gestures to his beskar.

“C'mon,” you croon. A devilish smile spreads across your lips as you bend down and lightly splash him with a little bit of water.

“Don’t start.”

You don’t listen, sending another splash at his legs.

“Y/N.”

Another splash, and he’s suddenly wading through the pool to get to you. You squeal as Din scoops you up into his arms and holds you close to him.

“You gonna behave for me now, mesh’la?”

You giggle against him as you say, “No.”

“Wrong answer.” He all but throws you back into the water like a damn fish.

But you emerge laughing happily, wading back to the shore with a goofy look on your face.

Back at the camp, you’re both by the fire, basking in each other’s company. While you lay spread out on your side, propped up on your elbow on top of his cape, Din is sat up against a boulder. He listens to the sounds of the canyon–the waterfall roaring in the back, the crack of the fire, the rustle of the wind in the trees– and nearly dozes off until you say,

“We should just stay here. Screw the bounty, let’s just be desert hermits.”

“And what? Live off bugs and tiny fish?”

“I mean...yeah. That sounds perfect.”

You look at him fondly from your place on the ground, and he taps your nose. You don’t know it, but he’s giving you that same lovestruck look. It does sound perfect, running off into the woods with you. Stupid, but perfect.

Your expression suddenly turns remorseful; with your free hand, you grab his on his lap.

“Hey um– I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to be angry with you.”

In all honesty, he’d completely forgotten that you’d fought at all. Din intertwined his fingers with yours, and held it reassuringly.

“Don’t worry about it,” he apologizes, “I’m sorry, too. It was my fault we got lost in the first place.”

“Yeah, but look what we found,” you gesture to the oasis around you, “This is worth something, right?”

He nods and you grace him with another sweet smile.

“I don’t like being mad at you… Din.”

He knows that his name still feels unfamiliar on your tongue, but his heart still skips a beat whenever you say it.

“I don’t either.”

You sit up from your place on his cloak, and he flushes with heat as you crawl onto his lap and straddle his legs, hand still in yours. “Then, let’s just–let’s try not to destroy each other, okay?

“Okay.”

The fire had already died down, embers dusting bright against the black wood. Night had settled over the canyon, the only light now being the glow of the stars and moon above. Your soft, heady moans echo off the cavern walls as he guides your hips up and down his cock. You bury your face into his neck and nip at the small sliver of skin just below his jaw. Din grunts and grinds into you, dizzy at good you feel against him, and then he hears you mumble something into his shoulder.

“What did you say?”

It was hard to hear you over the sound of rushing water. You pull yourself away and meet him with a nervous stare, gazing at him directly in the eye through his visor. Din straightens himself up, gripping your waist tighter in worry.

“Hey, what’s wro–”

“I want to see you, Din.”

His stomach flips. Panic starts to settle in and he shifts under you. Your hands caress the sides of his helmet and his arms quickly go to your wrists out of instinct, but you don’t move any further.

“Relax, it doesn’t have to be now,” you assure him, but he still remains tense, “Or tomorrow, or three years down the road...Or… Or ever.”

You pause for a moment, and Din looks at you in awe.

“I know it’s too much to ask, but I need you to know that I want to. One day. If you’d let me.”

He would. When that day would come, who knows.

But he would. You kiss the forehead of his helmet and his eyes fall shut, holding you closer.

So... forever, huh?

The word bounced and echoed in his ears. You thought you’d know him forever. A life where he’d see you every single day until you returned to the earth you stood upon…. And he took that away from you.

Din was stunned into silence, the weight of your honesty pulling at his chest. You watch him with bleary eyes, expectant for his response.

“Was I stupid enough to think you wanted it too?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“No, absolutely not.”

His hand gingerly travels from your shoulder down to yours, taking a loose hold of your palm. He expects you to pull away, but you don’t. To his surprise, you grip ever so slightly tighter.

“So why did we let it fall apart?”

“Don’t think for a second that any of this is your fault.”

“Then what was it?”

He doesn’t respond and you scoff, irritation pulling at your features.

“Mando, you’ve gotta give me something. I’m trying to be fair but–”

“I screwed it all up with you,” he interrupts, “Let you go when I shouldn’t have. I–”

Din stills, once again paralyzed at the thought of spilling out his heart to you. The words swell in his throat and sit heavy behind his teeth. He squeezes your hand, telling himself to be brave and just spit it out already because if he doesn’t do it now, he probably never will.

He pulls and you follow, sitting yourselves down on a rock next to the still water. He keeps your hand in his, and takes a deep breath.

“I don’t remember what my family looks like,” he begins, “I remember being with them. I remember what it was like to go to markets, to be in our house, but every time I try to picture their faces, I can’t seem to piece it all together.”

You don’t say anything, now listening intently. It’s strange– damn near uncomfortable– to have this conversation in the daylight, considering these kinds of talks have only existed in the safety and darkness of the Crest.

Din continues.

“When I was taken in as a foundling, I didn’t want a new family. I thought I didn’t need one, and I denied myself from one for a long, long time. But when you talked about leaving it all behind and starting your own, I–uh–I couldn’t help wanting to be the one you did it with.” You shuffle in your spot, heat rising to your cheeks. “But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I suddenly had something to lose. That it would be easier to let the dream go before I lost it all over again.” You furrow your brows and ask, “So you left?”

He bites his lip and nods.

“It was selfish–I was selfish. I convinced myself it was easier this way, that you’d be better off with someone who could give you what you wanted.”

“And you couldn’t?”

“At the time, no.” You nod slowly, soaking up his words. Your gaze travels down to your intertwined hands, and you don’t look at him when you ask, “Why’d you pull a blaster on me? Sure, you wanted to push me away but why’d it have to be like...that?”

Din clenches around your fingers, swallowing hard and answering earnestly.

“It’d be easier if you hated me.”

Your eyes shut tight and he can tell you’re struggling to keep your composure.

“That’s stupid,” you say sardonically, “And it obviously didn’t work. You just broke my heart.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. For everything. For me.”

Din has said the words more times than he can count in the past few days, but it’s only now that he feels them carry any real weight. He watches you stew over his words, taking long heavy sighs and brushing your fingertips over your temples. Your face remained as still as it could, hiding your true feelings under the mask of heavy concentration. A trick I picked up from you, actually, you once said.

When you finally speak, your eyes meet his visor once again.

“So what now?”

Din tilts his head, confused.

“You said ‘at the time,’ you couldn’t give me what I wanted,” you explain, “But what about now? Where do we go after this?”

He ponders over the question, looking off into the distance where he sees the child splashing along the lakefront. Then, he remembers something you said a few days ago.

“It’s always going to be about us.”

You were right. It was always the two of you against the universe, fitting so perfectly together and falling so easily on one another for support. In another life, where you fully embraced those feelings and spoke them aloud, maybe it would’ve been easier for you to follow each other to the tailends of the galaxy. But years have carved a canyon between you, and now? Things were different. He wasn’t as young and you weren’t as kind. You both needed time to heal your wounds and explore the space in between.

He looks back to you, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles.

“Wherever you want,” he says, as if it were the most simple solution in the world, “It wasn’t fair of me to ask so much of you and I should’ve just been honest. But know that I’ll be here when you need me.”

You’re pursing your lips, face tight and unreadable.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

His heart clenches and he braces for the worst.

“I understand. I don’t expect you to.”

“And I don’t think I can stay around you either. At least, not right now...”

He hangs onto that last part, hope shamelessly building inside him. He watches you brush a tear from the corner of your eye.

“...but thank you. I really needed to hear this.”

You’re the first one to break away, standing up and letting go of his hand. Din follows suit, turning to head back to your campsite. But you surprise him. You always do. He feels a tug on his sleeve and your arms around his neck. He allows himself to be stunned for a beat before holding your waist and pulling you in close, breathing you in while he can. The words tumble from his lips, wet and sad.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I know.”

You reach the village by dusk, weary and tired from walking all day with little to no break. It finally came time to find new parts for the Crest, as there was only so much you could do with the scrap that Mando kept onboard. The hike had been mostly quiet, save for the occasional fussy cry from the child. You were still raw and tender from this morning’s talk, and though things still remained uncertain between you, things felt a lot… lighter, like the air was easier to breathe. You never liked being angry with him and now you understood why; it always took so much energy. It kept your heart in a perpetual state of tension, and you couldn’t figure out if you wanted to cry or scream. It has you wondering, how did you keep that up for three damn years?

The town was relatively small, most likely acting as a trading post for travelers on the main roads. When you cross through the main square, the vendors are already breaking down and turning in for the night. You and Mando agreed to find a place to stay for the night and pick up parts first thing in the morning.

“Back for more, little one?”

You smile at the sound of Amir’s voice calling from one of the stands, and you walk over to greet him with a shake of your hand.

“Just the man I wanted to see.”

“I’m glad to see you again so soon,” he says fondly.

You turn to your partner, “Mando, this is Amir. I helped him with his wagon this morning.”

He nods at the old man in greeting, “Thank you for the food. You’re very kind.”

“So, you’re Mandalorian I’ve heard all about?” Amir asks with a cheeky smirk, “I’ve been told you’ve been causing quite a lot of trouble.”

You snort lightly when Mando stiffens next to you, letting him wallow in embarrassment before coming to his rescue.

“We’re looking for parts because our ship needs to be repaired right away,” you tell the old man, “Is there a place around here we could stay? It will only be for one night.” “Of course! My sister has a spare room. You can eat and rest there, and continue your journey tomorrow.”

You help Amir pack the rest of his produce stand and follow him to a dwelling at the end of the street. The outside of the home is covered in overgrowth, ivy climbing up the concrete walls and wild flowers decorating the front porch. Windchimes and stained transparisteel dangle over the doorway, and you could see propagated plants in clear bottles along the windowsill. When Amir opens the door, the smell of eucalyptus and broth immediately overwhelms your nostrils.

“Igme! We have guests!”

You hear the clanging of pots and shuffling from the far end of the hall. She was a shorter, stout woman with tan skin and crooked teeth. Adjusting her thick glasses, she squints and you and your partner.

“What kind of trouble have you gotten into this time, brother?”

Amir scoffs, “Trouble? I’m no trouble. This is the girl that helped me this morning! The one with the Mando.”

“Ah, so you’ve dragged them all the way here, have you?”

The siblings bicker for a moment before she beckons you all to come inside, barking at you to sit down. When you all flood into her kitchen, she looks curiously upon the excited child in his floating pram.

“Oh? And who might you be?” She asks him with a toothy grin.

When the baby only gurgles in response, she looks at you and Mando, “You two are quite the odd couple.”

You both panic, speaking over each other as you quickly say something along the lines of, “We’re not–It’s not like that–” But the old woman only laughs, waving you off as if to say, yeah, okay, sure.

Igme is much more of a firecracker than her brother: Overbearing in the best way possible, but she is kind and welcoming all the same, serving each of you a helping of food before you even have a chance to introduce yourselves. You immediately tuck in, not realizing how hungry you were until you caught a whiff of whatever she had on the stove. Mando, on the other hand, sits awkwardly in his seat.

The old woman asks him pointedly, “Are you not going to eat, Mandalorian?”

He rubs the back of his neck, sheepish under her intense stare.

“Igme, he can’t take the helmet off. It’s part of his religion,” Amir butts in.

“Oh! Why didn’t you say so?” She places her utensils on the table, quickly standing and shuffling over to her pantry. She pulls out a tray and starts putting Mando’s dinner on it before handing it to him.

“Please, ma’am, it’s okay. I don’t want to cause you any trouble,” he tries to say, but Igme is relentless, pointing a bony finger in his face.

“You’ll give me trouble if you don’t eat. It’s disrespectful to deny food,” she scolds, “Go upstairs, and I better not see any leftovers! You’re too skinny; you need to grow.”

Mando stands stiffly in the doorway with his tray, and you shoot him an amused smile.

Bowing his head at the elders, he says, “Thank you both. We’re very grateful.”

“Eat!”

“So, it seems you’ve patched things up with him.”

You swallow, shifting in your seat shyfully. You don’t look at Amir, instead focusing on feeding the child in front of you.

“Somewhat. I thought a lot about what you said, and it really helped when I talked to him this morning.”

“Oh good,” he muses, “So you told him you loved him then?”

Your hand slips and the spoon clatters loudly to the ground. Your heart flutters wildly in your chest, and you hope to Maker that the walls are thick enough that Mando can’t hear you from upstairs. Amir slaps his knees, his laugh bellowing throughout the kitchen while you clean up the mess you made.

“Igme, these kids are going to kill me.”

After helping clear the table and washing the dishes, you thank your hosts profusely before bidding them a goodnight. You knock on the door gently, and hear a muffled “hold on” followed by footsteps. Mando emerges in the doorway, clad in only his clothes and helmet.

“We have a problem,” he says and you furrow your brows.

He steps aside and you push through. The room is fairly small, containing only a few pieces of furniture along the walls: a rocking chair, an overcrowded bookshelf, a dresser, and one bed.

Not two, one.

“It’s fine,” you huff, chewing on your bottom lip, “It’s not like we haven’t shared one before.” “Yeah, but–” he cuts himself off, “Look, I’ll just sleep in the chair.” You give him a suspicious look and cock an eyebrow.

“Don’t be weird. What you were going to say?”

“I was gonna say the last time we did, things were a lot...different.”

Your cheeks burn. He was right, of course. The last time you shared a bed with him, you weren’t in the midst of a dramatic falling out and there were a lot less clothes involved.

“That... was a long time ago,” you reason, trying to keep your tone even, “It’s just one night, a–and we’re both adults. We can handle it.”

You lay tense on your side, facing outwards toward the wall and hyper aware of the emptiness behind you. The lights were off already, moonlight illuminating the room in soft blues. Mando was taking an awfully long time getting the baby settled, and your stomach flipped when you heard the carrier doors close shut.

“You sure this is okay with you?” “Just get in the damn bed, Mando.”

He sighs another modulated sigh, and you feel the weight of the mattress dip and he settles into a position much similar to yours. The silence of the universe descends once more, and you’re suddenly confronted with the chasm of space between you. You swear you’re exhausted, but despite it all, you’re kept conscious by the presence of the man a few inches away.

“Are you awake?” You don’t mean to say it, but it comes out anyway.

“Yeah.”

You pull at the knitted quilt, clutching it closer to your shoulder.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“You’re pulling the blanket.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

You loosen your grip on the sheet, and you feel it move as Mando adjusts it on his side. Another beat of silence passes by. And then,

“They’re nice people,” he says, “Igme and Amir.”

“Yeah. They are,” You say and smile fondly, “They have such great personalities to them.”

“I know. I’m damn near forty and Igme thinks I still need to grow. I was afraid she’d kill me if I didn’t eat.”

You chuckle lightly; watching him get chewed out by a woman half his size was entertaining.

“Amir’s quite nosy, y’know? Kept asking all kinds of questions about us.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Oh, you know. This and that,” You hesitate, pulling nervously at a thread on your pillow. The bed jostles lightly, and you could only assume that Mando had shifted places.

“And what does that mean?”

You will yourself to turn around, and you’re met with the slick black of his visor. Your heart skips a beat and you can’t control yourself when you whisper,

“He asked if I loved you.”

A crackle of static cuts through the heavy air, and you see his chest heave.

“And?”

“I said I was angry with you.”

“But do you?”

You blink at him a few times, dizzy and drunk on fatigue. At this point, you wonder if you’re dreaming, that you’re not really awake and these kinds of confessions exist only in your head. In the morning, you will be facing the wall, and soon, you will fix the Razor Crest and then jet off in your own ship, parting and going your separate ways. And this late night exchange of secrets would’ve never happened because there’s still an angry, ugly part of you that wants to launch him into dead space.

Right?

You hold your breath and tenderly reach over, looping your pinky finger in his and pulling your hands between your bodies as you utter a single word.

“Maybe.”

You’re silent for a moment, but you acquiesce,

“Yes.”

Because in the morning, you’ll wake up like this, intertwined with him in the most gentle way possible, and you’ll savor every fleeting moment with him while you can. You’ll still split up, go your own way because something in the universe is signaling that it isn’t time for you yet. And you’ll mourn over him every second he’s away because things have gotten so complicated, and the gravity of all your lost potential will always wash over you. Everything that ever is and was and everything that could’ve been– you could drown in it if you weren’t careful. Because even though he didn’t deserve you, he had you. He always did.

Din is quiet for a while, letting your honesty sink in. Your heart slams against your chest and you think you’re on the verge of tears because you’ve said too much and you don’t think you can handle it.

And then he asks,

“Do you remember when we got stuck in that canyon?”

“The one with the waterfall?”

“Yeah, that one. What if we stayed there? Became hermits like you said?”

“Does it even matter now?”

You don’t mean to sound so cynical, so you backtrack.

“We’d probably be happier. Or dead.”

You don’t see it, but you know he’s smiling.

“We should’ve gotten it right the first time,” he murmurs, “But it’s too late now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

You’re not sure how much time passes. You don’t even remember falling asleep, but the next thing you know, your eyes flutter open to meet that familiar beskar helmet, and there’s a soft whine coming from the other side of the room. In your sleepy state, it takes you a second to realize that it’s just the baby and ghosts aren’t real.

Pulling yourself out of bed and padding over to his pram, you pick up Mando’s vambrace and fiddle with the buttons until the carrier doors open. The little green bean gawks at you with wet eyes, whimpering and sniffling against his blankets.

Scooping him up into your arms, you whisper to him.

“Hey, kiddo, it’s okay. Did you have a nightmare?”

He digs himself into your chest, and his cries get louder. You panic when you see Mando stir from his place on the bed, so you bounce the child lightly in your arms. “Ssshhh, it’s alright. I’m here,” you assure him, “Your dad is asleep. I don’t want to wake him up. Maker knows he needs his rest.”

The kid begins to settle down after some time, relaxing in your arms while his eyes droop trying to stay awake. You breathe a sigh of relief and settle down into the rocking chair, swaying slowly and lulling the child back to sleep.

“He gets them too, you know? The nightmares,” you tell him, “Must run in the family.”

He yawns, slipping back into unconsciousness slowly and surely. You glance at Mando’s peaceful sleeping form on the bed and continue to ramble to the child in your arms.

“That man… He’s infuriating. Things can never just be easy with him. ” He’s fully asleep now, snoring softly just like his father. You gaze out the window and notice that dawn has just started to settle over the horizon, a bright pink dusting the indigo skies. You’re overtaken by this incredible sense of calm, meditating in the quietness of the early morning. Selfishly, you think about how you could get used to this.

“What was that word? The one he uses for children?”

Sleep begins to pull at you, too, the motions of the rocking chair settling you further into exhaustion. But you still wrack your tired brain for the word, your already limited Mando’a out of practice after not using it for so long. Adiik? A’den? Ad’eta?

“Ad’ika.”

It feels like a shot to the chest when Din wakes up and you’re not next to him because now he can’t tell if last night was a dream–if you really took his hand and said you loved him. Neither of you had ever explicitly said the words out loud, and last night was about as much as he would ever get. When he shifts to the other side, his vision is still adjusting to the bright sun of the morning, and his heart sinks when he sees your blurry form asleep in the chair.

Did you regret it? Pushing himself off the bed with a groan, he walks across the room and suddenly, all the doubts die in his mind when he finally gets a clear look at you. The child is asleep in your arms, tucked against your chest while you snooze with your head slumped against the headrest. Din could watch this forever, and he can’t help but wish that this was his normal. Intimate nights, calm mornings and a loving family within reach.

Din’s heart twists when he realizes he could’ve but he stupidly let it go along with you.

So he indulges in the fantasy just a little longer, taking his sweet time to get himself ready and stealing glances at you every time he could. And when it was time for it to end, he slips into the refresher, shutting the door loudly.

Igme and Amir wouldn’t accept your money even as you both bickered with them on giving at least something as a token of your appreciation. The only thing they’d accept was your help in setting up Amir’s produce stand in the market before you went, and so you did. Mando and Amir pitched the shade, and you laid out all of his stock on wooden tables while the child watched from his pram, happily eating some berries. Though the morning had been relatively easygoing, the air had been deeply awkward between you and your partner. You’d barely spoken aside from the occasional “sorry” for when you briefly brushed too close. But you still steal quick glances and stare at each other’s backs when the other isn’t looking, wondering when someone’s going to talk about the blurrg in the room or not.

Tearing yourself out of your thoughts, you look back at the baby, who’s thoroughly made a mess of himself with his breakfast feast.

“Oh Maker, look at you!”

He giggles happily and you laugh with him, purple fruit juice all over his face and jacket. Crouching down, you pull at your sleeve and proceed to wipe it from his lips.

“It’s gonna stain,” Mando’s voice suddenly complains behind you.

You clear your throat, trying to ignore the tension between you.

“Maybe you can find some new clothes for him here,” you suggest.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You smile at Mando warmly for just a moment before turning back to the child. After fruitlessly trying to rub off the juice from his shirt with your sleeve (and Mando prodding you with “quit it, it’s not going to work), you notice something missing from his carrier.

“His silver ball is gone.”

Mando tilts his head and digs through his blankets only to turn up empty.

“It must’ve fallen in the room.” Amir, who had stayed entertained from afar, came up to you two in your confusion.

“Did you lose something?”

“Yes,” you say, “The baby left his toy and I’d hate to leave it here.” “Igme should still be home. Go ahead and grab it.”

“Thank you so much.” You turn to Mando and gently place a hand on his arm. “Go ahead without me. I’ll catch up with you.”

Walking up to the house, a Pantoran and a man stand at the porch. Igme stands proud and tall at the doorway, hands propped against the frame to act as a steel wall between them and her home. Even with her loud, scathing voice, you don’t hear much of the conversation aside from “I don’t know who you’re talking about” and “there’s no one here.” You stride closer, hand itching to your blaster’s holster when Igme catches your gaze.

The men turn around and your heart drops when you see how heavily armed they are. They’re dressed in sleek black, clothes oddly pressed and neat. You narrow your eyes at them, and you don’t know how, but you swore you’ve seen them before.

“I thought you said there was no one here,” one of them says.

She answers quickly before you can respond. “That’s my niece, Tala.”

With their backs turned, they don’t see Igme give you a pressing look, nodding her head and encouraging you to keep up the act.

“Doesn’t look like she’s from around here, grandma.”

“What’s it to you?” you ask, keeping your face stern.

“You tell me, darling.”

Your gaze darts from the men and then to Igme.

“I’m visiting my family,” you lie, “Is it a crime?”

The two thugs tilt their head at you suspiciously.

“We’re looking for someone, and we have reason to believe that they stayed in your aunt’s house last night.”

“And who might that be?”

“A Mandalorian, a child, and…”

The Pantoran takes a step closer, golden eyes boring into yours. He’s menacing and at least a head taller but you stay indignant, feet planted firmly on the ground. He takes a lock of your hair in his forefinger and your stomach turns.

“...A pretty little thing like you.”

You roughly smack his hand away and push past him, standing with Igme at the door.

“Sorry boys, but you’ve got the wrong house. Your chances of finding a Mandalorian here are slim to none. I’m here on a family vacation, nothing else.”

The two hunters exchange looks, deliberating over their next action. You shift slowly, hand creeping towards your blaster before they turn back to you and Igme with sinister smiles.

“Thank you for your time, ma’am.”

As soon as they’re out of earshot, Igme ushers you inside, slams the door shut, and pulls the curtains on her windows. You let out a huge sigh of relief, heart slamming in your chest and sweat beading at your brow. Out of the corner of your eye, Igme stands still, staring at a picture hung on her wall. Her hands shake ever so slightly, scratching the wrinkly skin on her forearms.

“You need to find your Mandalorian and get out of here. It isn’t safe for you,” she instructs, “Take the back door and make sure you aren’t seen.”

“What about you?” “We can handle ourselves. Hasn’t been the first time.”

You nod, and say nothing more. You rush upstairs, taking the child’s ball and slipping it into your pocket. You take one last look at the small cozy room and it breaks your heart a little; Igme and Amir had been the first genuinely kind faces you’d seen in a very long time. Even if you’d only been here a day, it was easy to feel like this place was home.

Walking down the stairs, you see Igme still gazing longingly at a photo, unmoving.

“You remind us of her, you know? We were devastated when we heard the news.”

It takes a second, but then it dawns on you.

“Tala was Amir’s daughter, wasn’t she? The one in the Rebellion?”

She nods slowly, breaking her gaze from the wall to turn to you.

“I told her to go. To never stop fighting. Amir was furious with me, but eventually, he came around. She was a hero,” She says, with a shaky breath. Circling back to you, Igme takes your face in her bony hands.

“I don’t know who those men are or why they’re here, but I know that you’re good kids. You be careful out there, okay?”

You’re speechless, heart blooming with adoration. “Igme, I can’t thank you enough for everything you and Amir have done.”

The old woman pulls you in for a warm, loving embrace, and it takes everything in you to not cry your eyes out.

“Then don’t. Just stay alive, that would be enough.”

You do exactly as Igme says, stalking behind buildings and hidden streets around the bazaar to find Mando. From the end of an alley, you see a glint of beskar and your heart leaps. But as you make your way down the small road, you’re stopped by a sharp, painful tug on your hair and the barrel of a weapon pressed at your back.

“What did you say about slim chances, darling?”

Cursing under your breath, you raise your hands in begrudging surrender. The Pantoran’s hand moves from your hair to grip the back of your neck, turning you around and shoving you away from the main street. He guides you a few paces down the abandoned back road, pushing past cargo crates and trash cans that litter the way. In an alley up ahead, the sounds of struggle echo off the concrete walls and the grip on your neck tightens as your captor aims the blaster past your face in defense.

Mando tumbles onto the ground in front of you, the other hunter stalking in tow. You act quick, slamming a hard elbow into the Pantoran’s stomach and seizing his arm, taking aim with the blaster. In his panic, he fires and the shot lands on his partner’s ribs, knocking him back into a stack of cargo crates and giving Mando a chance to get back on his feet. With your captor’s arm still in your hold, you throw him onto his back and fall to your knee. Bringing it flush against your leg, you tug with all your strength, a nasty crack resounding in your ears. He wails in pain and his blaster falls to the floor.

“You bitch!” He seethes. His uninjured hand reaches toward his belt and whips out a vibroblade, but it’s swiftly kicked out of his hands, clattering onto the dirt as Mando stalks to your side.

“Don’t try it.”

He aims his blaster at the writhing hunter, who squeezes his eyes shut at the sound of the gun cocking. But something about these men itch in your consciousness–something that wasn’t right. Sure, every bounty hunter and their mother was after Mando right now, but this felt different. These two weren’t some rugged, run-of-the-mill mercs who were hired in a seedy cantina; they were trained, calculated, and damning of all, they were familiar. They knew exactly who you were at Igme’s, and if they wanted to take you in or kill you, why didn’t they do it right then and there? Unless they were explicitly told not to cause a scene.

“Wait.”

Mando’s arm relaxes only slightly, looking to you for explanation. Rising to your feet, you take a good look at the Pantoran, studying his features intently and trying to figure out where have you seen him before?

“Who do you work for?”

He spits at your feet, “Like I’d fuckin’ tell you.”

You don’t react, steely gaze darting to his limp broken arm. Tilting up your foot, you hover over his swollen elbow, brushing it with the sole of your boot. His golden eyes go wild in panic.

“Let’s try again, darling,” you sneer, “Who. Do. You. Work. For?”

Every word was punctuated with added pressure on his injured limb. He thrashes under your hold in agony, desperately trying to pull himself from under you as curses fly from his lips. But your stance remains strong and you don’t move a muscle.

“F–f–fuck! You kriffing bitch!” “You want me to break the other one? Start talking!”

You slam your foot against his arm and he wails. Out of the corner of your eye, Mando tilts his head in what can only be worry.

“Alright! I’ll talk!” he relents, “I’ll talk.”

Your hold loosens ever so slightly and you let him speak.

“Ever since his arrest, people have been fighting for Khan’s spot at the top. In the end, it was his cousin Kirnall Myn who took over. Once he found out the price on the Mandalorian’s head, his first order was to send us after you.”

The name made your blood run hot. You read his file on the Crest and it made you sick to your stomach. Though Khan was the main face of his ring, you learned that Kirnall was the one who kept it running like a well oiled machine. He’s the reason it expanded across the Rims; he moved the money, pulled in the most expensive clients, and had deliberately placed set-ups on planets with loose laws. With him in charge, things could get a lot worse.

And these clowns must’ve been his trusted hitmen. You let out a frustrated huff, stepping off the Pantoran’s arm and lifting his neglected gun from the ground. He’s weak, groaning in pain and slowly slipping into unconsciousness. But before he can go under, you point and send a shot through his legs. He cries out in agony again, and you’re back on your knees, pulling him by the collar of his shirt.

“I’m not going to kill you today,” you seethe, “because you’re going to go to your little hitman friends and tell them to back off. And then you’re going to tell Kirnall Myn that I’m coming for his head.”

taglist

@bella-ciaao @tiffdawg @peggers-n-beggers @sinnamon-bunn @adlerorzel-blog @theocatkov @paryl @fruitsaladtree @allisondavis236 @roxypeanut @benedrylcumbersnatch @skylerrae-solo @weirdowithnobeardo @gabbygurrl @cheesybadgers @nopeforyou @dartheldur @altarsw

thx loves 💘

#migraine #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #shes HERE FINALLY #star wars #the mandalorian fic #by homage to lolas i mean my lola bc she heavily inspired igme

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that-was-anticlimactic · 4 years

Note

Once many moons ago you asked for some avatar writing prompts and I’ve been thinking of it ever since. Anyway I’ve also been thinking a lot about your Tourette’s!Sokka hc and fics and I was wondering if you could write a lil bit about how Toph finds out? I know you mentioned that she’d find out after pulling him out of the hole... but I’d love to read more about it

Anyway no pressure and if i’m totally out of line please let me know

Hi!!! No no, thank you so much! You’re not out of line at all!! I could talk about this forever and this is exactly something I need to procrastinate!

for those who don’t know, they’re referring to this post and this oneshot! It’s a lots of headcanons about Sokka (atla) having Tourette’s Syndrome!

This takes place during Bitter Work (I mean... Sokka is a hole haha) and for purposes of speculation and plot convenience, we’re assuming he’s been in the whole for at least half of the day (I mean, maybe that’s canon??? He had trouble walking when they got him out and it was long enough to make Katara worry...).

I tried writing this in a different way, so if anyone has strong thoughts / feelings / opinions on how I portrayed his tics, let me know! The last thing that I want to note beforehand is that tics are... weird and you can’t plan them. Writing for them is harder than I thought because they are random. I, personally, found it easier to write his verbal tics as the same few words because you don’t think of tics, they just happen? So writing them was weird, haha!

Stuck

Word Count: 2,590

Tw: anxiety attack, tic attack (for those with TS or tics, I do write his tics in. They triggered some of mine, so proceed with caution)

----

“Rah-Rah-Rah-Rumble!”

Sokka sighed. “Maybe going to underground Earth bending tournaments was a bad idea,” the young warrior (nose wrinkle) said to himself. “I’m going to be rumbling-- rah-rah-rumble-- for ages now.”

He laughed. Then laughed again (blink, whistle). Then he shrieked in frustration.

Being stuck in this hole was miserable, and not just (whistle, nose wrinkle) miserable, it was terrifying. He couldn’t move his arms, he couldn’t move his legs, moving his fingers was possible, but he had clenched them so much that it was painful to continue, and he needed to move his arms, he needed to (whistle, whistle, whistle) tic.

The others were off training, and that could take hours. He was alone (blink, “yip yip, rumble rumble”) and they had no idea where he was, all they knew was that he was hunting.

The pain… it was hard for his brain to fathom the pain he was in. His legs (blink, whistle, blink) were numb but his arms (“Rah-Rumble”) were sore, they were aching and longing for the ability to move, to tic. It made his head (whistle, blink, blink, “yip, rumble, yip”) hurt. It was hard to breath.

“That’s-- rumble-- it,” he wheezed. “This is how I’m gonna-- rah-rah-- die. Oh, spirits, I’m gonna die!” Panic, pain, and loneliness were savages, wrecking the sanctuary and peace of his mind and body.

“AANG!”

Sokka’s voice clipped, his body feeling (“yip yip, you need to yip yip”, blink, nose wrinkle) awake once more at the sight of his friend.

The monk turned at his name, his face lighting up upon seeing the water tribesman. “Sokka!” he (nose wrinkle, whistle) cried, running to him. “Are you okay?”

He opened his mouth, prepared to make some witty or sarcastic comment, but (whistle, blink) all that came out was a stifled, relieved sob. “I-I’m-- fah-fah-fine, fine-- I just need to get out of this stupid hole,” he assured, tears of happiness welling up in his eyes.

Aang studied him for a moment (“yip yip”), then grabbed onto what he could of Sokka’s hands, trying to pull him (blink, blink, nose wrinkle, whistle) free.

Pain shot through his arms and up to his fingers. “Ow! Stop, stop! You’re-- rumble, rah-rah-- gonna pull my fingers off! And (whistle) I don’t think the r-- re-rah-rumble, rah-rah-rumble-- rest is coming!”

Aang sat down in front of him, panting. “I would try to airbend you out, but I don’t think that’ll do anything.”

(Blink, whistle) “Oh, you can Earthbend me out!” Sokka cried excitedly (blink, blink, “rumble”). “That’s what you’ve been working on, right?”

“I can’t.”

“Well, what about-- yip-- Toph? Can you get her so she can Earthbend me out?”

“I can’t do that either.”

“W-- Wah-Wah-- Why not? I’m stuck and-and I can’t move and--” Sokka broke off into an unstoppable stream of “yip-yip”’s.

Aang started, reaching his hands out, but drew them back. “Suppose you probably don’t want to be touched right now?” he said sheepishly. “I’m sorry. Toph will just get mad at me if I go back. I’m a terrible Earthbender.”

“I just-- yip yip (whistle, blink, blink, nose wrinkle)-- I just want Katara.” The words stumbled out, and for a second, he felt like that young six year old again, asking for his mom when (blink, blink, blink) he had tic spasms during stressful training sessions.

Aang’s grey eyes were filled with sorrow. “I know you need help. I need to get over myself and just face Toph but… I just don’t want to let anyone down…” he trailed off, and (nose wrinkle, whistle) suddenly Sokka wanted to be out of that hole more than anything so he could give Aang all of the love that he deserves.

“Oh! Is that a baby Sabertooth Moose Lion?” asked the monk, a smile popping up on his face as the creature jumped out from the bushes.

“Aang, Foo Foo Cuddly Poops. Foo Foo-- rumble, rah-rah-- Cuddly Poops, Aang,” Sokka introduced nonchalantly, still mentally going through various ways to encourage Aang to get help.

“Huh, that’s weird,” Aang (“yip yip!”) stated, picking Foo Foo Cuddly Poops up. “Their moms are usually really protective.”

The Spirits must have something against Sokka, and maybe once he’s out of the hole he’ll ask Aang to visit the Spirit World and figure out what it is. Almost as if it were on cue, a loud roar shook the trees surrounding them, and Sokka soon felt overcome with blinking and screaming “yip yip”.

The roar came from behind him, but he couldn't move he couldn’t move he couldn’t move he couldn’t-- Spirits, he was crying. He was blinking so hard and so consistently that he was crying. His throat felt tighter and tighter with each “yip”, but he still held onto that small sliver of hope that Toph or Katara would hear him and come help him.

“Aang, I can’t-- ca-a-an’t yip-- I can’t see! I-- you need to yip yip-- can’t see! Is that- is that-thu-thu-- the mother? What’s happ-- yip yip-- ening? I can’t-- you-you, yip yip yip-- I can’t stop-- yip yip yip yip, RUMBLE-- AANG!” His words flew out of his mouth, they were uncontrollable, a storm that had been building up for the past however long he had been in here, festering and brewing. Sokka didn’t know what he was saying, his tongue was improvising, his words were a script never written. Honestly, he would be surprised if Aang could even understand what he said through his nearly constant stream of tics.

He couldn’t see, and not just behind him. His blinking was too excessive. His eyes hurt, his vision completely blurred. He was crying, from fear, pain, blinking too much, and because he just wanted Katara. The ringing in his ears returned, and he wanted to curl up into a ball, letting his tics run their course, holding his head in his hands.

A gust of wind ruffled his already messy hair, some of the longer strands falling into his mouth, but he barely registered it. Through the ringing, he vaguely heard Aang speak to him. And suddenly Sokka sobbed even harder because Aang was twelve and he shouldn’t have to worry about Sokka having a tic attack. The first time he had one around Aang, he had terrified the kid. Poor Katara had to run back and forth between making sure Sokka was alright and not in any pain and that Aang understood what was going on.

Spirits, Aang was probably scared out of his mind right now because they were being attacked and Sokka could do nothing to help him. They were in danger and it felt like he was cowering while the Avatar worked to save them both.

Moment after moment, he continued to tic, and, as Aang later said, continued to have an anxiety attack. It felt like an eternity when he finally saw the blurred face of Aang in front of him, moving in and out of focus. The monk’s mouth was moving, but no words were coming out.

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t even think. The world around him had faded, falling into a grey abyss of nothingness where even feelings were numb and cold. He forced his eyes shut.

Suddenly, the ground beneath him began to move, it rumbled (much like he was), and out of nowhere, a hand gripped his hair tightly and pulled.

Freedom. He was free, but he couldn’t register it. He swatted at the hand until it let go of him, letting him crumble to the ground in a hysterical heap. The touch only worsened the feeling of restriction, even though he was no longer confined to the hole. The ringing grew louder and louder still, and through it all he could hear was someone screaming his sister’s name. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was Aang.

The curled into a ball position that he so longed for was finally attainable, and Sokka immediately fell into it. His legs were twitching, his hands continually flying to the sky and flashing the number three (a new tic he had picked up that replaced the fist pumping. Where his body picked it up, he hadn’t a clue, but he supposed it was better than fist pumping at everything).

“I can’t-- yip yip, yip rumble yip-- breathe-- bruh-bruh-bruh--!” he screamed it. How his vocal cords found the strength to scream, he didn’t know. All he knew for certain was that he felt like he was dying.

A tender, cool, calloused hand landed on his shoulder and he shuddered at the touch, desperately trying to shake it off. The hand would not relent.

Oftentimes, the light at the end of the tunnel was his name. The ringing halted to a stop, when through the blaring he heard: “Sokka”. The voice was loud but it was not forceful. It was commanding yet compassionate. “Sokka, can you hear me?”

Eyes still forced shut to calm the blinking, he nodded.

“It’s Katara. I know I’m already touching you, but can I hug you? Is that okay?”

Katara… his sister. His mind halted at once, the thoughts of death and breathing slipping away. Cautiously opening an eye, Sokka found his sister in front of him, one hand on his shoulder, the other hovering near his back.

A relieved sigh fell from her lips as he opened his second eye, blinked a few times, and then met hers. Her beautiful blue eyes felt like home. “Thank the Spirits,” she mumbled. “Can I hug you, is that okay? Aang chased away the mother Sabertooth Moose Lion and Toph got you out of the hole. You can move now.”

Realization hit him in full force. Toph didn’t even know he had Tourette’s yet. The chance to tell her never really came up. She probably hated him now.

He nodded once more, leaning into his younger sister’s touch, wrapping his own shaking arms around her, and letting her hold him as he whimpered.

Her touch was warm, heating the coolness of his fear into oblivion. He always liked when Katara hugged him. She always hugged him loosely, allowing him the room to maneuver or wiggle his way out if he felt uncomfortable.

Peace flooded over him, his tears vanishing with each passing moment and his breathing more stable with each breath.

“I’m-- rumble- rah-- so sorry,” he gasped once he extracted himself from the hug, finally calm and back into reality, as the world came back into sight.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Katara stated firmly, sitting beside him. “We should have looked for you sooner when you didn’t return. I was just so caught up in Aang learning Earthbending and Toph is kind of a mean teacher--”

“Katara, it’s-- yip yip-- fine, really.”

“You were stuck here for hours, Sokka, hours! I was so worried…”

Hand holding wasn’t his thing, not in the slightest. It made his fingers hurt and he could never get his hands to hold still long enough for it to be comfortable for anyone. Katara, though, was the one exception. He reached for her hand, holding it tightly and rubbing his fingers against the back of it.

“Thu-Thu-- Thank you,” he whispered. “I love you.”

Katara leaned her head against his shoulder, finally allowing herself to breathe, all of her worries and fears slipping away with every exhale.

From the corner of his eye, Sokka noticed Aang slowly inching towards him, Toph lingering at his side. He gulped. “Aang, sorry I f-- fr-fre-fuh-fr--freaked out on you. Did I-- rumble rumble-- scare you again?” he asked.

Aang nodded sheepishly. “A little bit. Sorry I couldn’t Earthbend you out. I should’ve gotten Toph right away.”

Sokka shrugged, careful not to jostle his sister’s head. “Eh. It’s okay. You just started l-- luh-luh-rumbLE, LE, LE-- learning.”

The large grey eyes grew wider by the second. Aang bit his lip and glanced anxiously at Sokka. It was a look that Sokka had learned early on. “Come here,” he sighed, gesturing to his other side. “Not too close, though, okay?”

Aang immediately zoomed over and into his side, scooting away slightly before settling.

Sometimes, Aang just needs to be loved and reminded that he’s just a kid and that it’s okay to feel worried and that it’s okay for him to not believe everything was his fault. That look, that look was one asking for forgiveness, one of asking for affection.

And then there was Toph.

It was funny, really, how quickly Sokka could go between completely freaking out and needing someone to help him to him being the comforter, the calm and collected one. He supposed it was because his tic attacks weren’t very frequent, and this one was more extreme than most (probably due to being stuck for hours and having an anxiety attack), so he was used to jumping back into normalcy.

Toph, on the other hand…

“Hey, you,” he called. “Blind Bandit-- yip yip, you need to yip yip-- come join us!”

The hesitant and frightened look (Spirits, she was only twelve too) on her face was a huge contrast in comparison to her pale and usually uncaring complexion. And for a moment, she faltered. Being new and all, Sokka really couldn’t blame her. She barely knew them.

“I’m f-- fuh-fuh--fine,” he assured her. “I have Tourette’s so sometimes-- rumble-rah-rah-- when I can’t move my body freaks-- yip yip (whistle)-- out and sometimes I panic. Then we got attacked by a Sabertooth Moose Lion, I think? I kinda blanked out for that part-- rah-rah-rah--, but anyways, point is, I’m okay. And, I’m sorry for sc-- yip yip-- scaring you.”

The young Earthbender cautiously took a step forward.

“Don’t worry-- wah-wah-worry--, it’s not usually this bad. I guess me getting trapped in a hole-- rumble, rumble, rah-- wasn’t enough torment for the Spirits so they threw a large animal at me. It’s usually just small, normalish things like making hand gestures or my neck twitching,” he continued to explain, his tone gentle and trying his best to suppress his vocal tics for the moment to coax Toph closer. “Are you okay?”

Toph snorted. “I’m not scared, Snoozles. I just… I just couldn’t see what was going on completely and I was confused!”

“And worried!” Aang piped up from his side. “Don’t forget that you were also worried!”

Sokka smiled while Toph growled. She stomped her foot on the ground and a beam of Earth collided with Aang, sending him flying through the air and roughly hitting a tree.

“Ow,” he mumbled, rubbing his head.

Toph just shrugged, quickly making her way to steal Aang’s spot next to Sokka. The young warrior saw the Earthbender raise her fist towards him, then falter.

“Yes, you can touch-- yip yip-- me now,” he laughed. “Uhh, also, sorry for hitting you earlier.”

A hard blow landed on his arm, but he couldn’t have felt happier about it. The trio learned very early on that punching arms was Toph’s way of showing affection. “No biggie. I can take it.”

Aang came stumbling towards them, pouting. “No fair, Toph! I wanted to sit next to Sokka!”

“Well then, make Sugar Queen move and take her place.”

“But Katara has first dibs, she’s his sister!”

“Snooze you lose, Twinkle Toes.”

“But--”

Katara opened her eyes and then proceeded to roll them. “Just come sit next to me, Aang,” she interrupted, extending an arm for the airbender to lean into.

Aang’s face lit up and he raced to her side.

Sokka sighed. Ah, normalcy.

----

Ahhh okay! I hope you liked it!

In case anyone was wondering, the reason why I stopped writing the tics in during the tic attack is because tic attacks (in my own personal experience) are kind of a constant stream of tics where something is always happening, and it would be really hard to write. So, when he had his anxiety / tic attack, I let it flow from there because there’s no way I could write that well or portray it right!

Thank you for reading! I’m always open to Sokka with Tourette’s questions, comments, concerns, etc...! I enjoy talking about it haha! I would also love to hear anyone’s personal Sokka with TS headcannons or ideas or any TS character stuff!

I am also always up to procrastinate, so if anyone ever has any writing prompts or fic recs, please lemme know!

and as always, Katara is FANTASTIC:)

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rebel-without-cause-x · 4 years

Text

A Bad Addiction // Part 2

Jax Teller x Reader

A Bad Addiction Master List

Tag List: @chibsytelford @talicat713 @corebore123 @nothingeverdies @teapartydreams

Warnings: Heavy mention of drug abuse and withdrawal, swearing (I think ahaha)

Translation: Little baby, hear my voice, I'm beside you, O maiden fair, Our young Lady, grow and see, Your land, your own faithful land. Sun and moon, guide us, To the hour of our glory and honour. Little baby, our young Lady Noble maiden fair

“Here ye go lass” Chibs said softly as he closed the drawer spinning round passing you one of his shirts “sleep in this”

“Thank you” you whispered taking it from him, heading into the en suit to get changed.

Walking back into the bedroom you saw Chibs say at the end of the bed with his head in his hands. Sitting down next to him you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I should ave been there love” he whispered “I’m a shite friend”

“Chibby don’t do this please” you sighed “this isn’t your fault, it’s not anyone’s fault apart from my own”

“But if a had just been in better contact” he said looking up, you watched his jaw clench as he held back tears.

“You can’t blame yourself” you whispered “this is all on me. I stopped replying to you all, I dropped off the face of the earth, I cut myself off, I fell into the bad crowd, I started using”

“I’m not leaving ya side again lass” he whispered pulling you into a tight hug “I’m gonna be ere every step. Now try and get some sleep”

“Can you stay with me until I fall asleep please” you mumbled feeling ashamed at feeling so weak.

“Course I can sweetheart” he whispered kissing the top of your head.

Snuggling down in the bed, you felt his lay next to you pulling you into his body, placing his hand over your waist. There was nothing romantic about it, it was an old friend silently saying he would always be there for you, comforting you.

“A naeoidhean bhig, cluinn mo ghuth Mise rid' thaobh, O mhaighdean bhan, Ar righinn oig, fas as faic, Do thir, dileas fhein.” Chibs’ husky voice sung softly, you had forgotten the translation but knew it was the song from Brave, a small smiled appeared as you realised he remembered this song always calmed you down.

Snuggling down even more in the warmth of the bed, you felt your eyes become heavy as sleep started to take over for the first time in days.

“A ghrian a's a ghealaich, stuir sinn, Gu uair ar cliu'sar gloire, Naoidhean bhig, ar righinn og, Mhaighdean ua shaill bhan”

Chibs’ felt your breathing shallow out and smiled as soft snores left your lips, he placed a gentle kiss on your temple, before slowly climbing off the bed letting you sleep.

“How is she?” Jax asked looking up at his brother.

“Asleep, finally” Chibs sighed as he lit a cigarette.

“You sung to her didn’t you” Jax half laughed “The song from Brave”

“Yeah it always used to calm her down and I guess it still does” Chibs said as he sat down. “We need to figure out what the next steps are”

“I still think rehab is going to be the best option, but I do agree with Wendi lets see how she gets on at home before we send her to an unfamiliar place” Nero said “You guys know her better than I do, do you think she can go cold turkey on this”

“Honestly I don’t think she can” Jax sighed as he ran his hands through his hair.

“What you thinking, letting her have one hit a day and then drop it down” Wendi asked.

“Yeah, lets do it over a month, see how she copes and then think about rehab again” Nero nodded. “We will get her sober”

Morning soon rolled around and it had been 12 hours since you last used. The sounds of the birds outside were pissing you off, growling to yourself you pulled yourself out of bed, you were in a bad mood, starving and needed a fix.

Stomping down the stairs no caring if you woke anyone, you headed straight for your coat, you knew you had at least one hit left, tearing the jacket apart, checking every pocket. Nothing.

“Where the fuck is it” You growled checking all the pockets again.

“Y/N you won’t find it in there” Jax said softly, appearing from the living room still half asleep.

“Where the fuck did you put it Teller” You spat pulling open all the cupboards trying to find where they hid the drugs.

“I’m not going to tell you darlin’” He said wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. “Now calm down please”

“Get the fuck off me” You roared thrashing in his arms.

“Ese come on let her go this isn’t helping” Nero said pulling Jax off you.

It was obvious you wasn’t going to find the coke, one of them had it and hide it good.

“Chica I will make you some breakfast and then we will talk okay” Nero said kissing your head.

“I don’t want fucking food, I need my fix” You spat.

“I know, I know and I promise you will get one soon. Trust me Chica”

The house was quite apart from the hushed voices coming from the kitchen, you wanted to go see what they was talking about but you didn’t even have the energy to get up off the sofa. You couldn’t be bothered to do anything.

You turned your gaze to the door as they all walked back into the living, you noticed that Chibs was holding a single little baggy.

“Okay so you need to listen to me princess” Jax said crouching in front of you taking your hand in his. “For the next week you will get one fix a day, it will be up to you when you take the hit then after a week we will go every other day. I know this is going to be hard but we are all here for you”

“Is that it there?” You said nodding at Chibs’ hand.

“Aye lass” Chibs nodded.

You didn’t say anything, you just held your hand out for him to pass it to you. Once the bag was in your hand you ran your fingers over the white powder, how could you have let yourself get to the point of depending on this stuff just to function?

Staring at the bag, you sighed, they was letting you get a fix a day to make this process a bit easier. The bag felt hot as it laid in the palm of your hand, staring at it you had one side of you, the devil in you telling you to take it, it would make you feel better even if it was only short lived. Then the other side of you, the angel telling you that you didn’t need this, you had all the help and support you needed to go cold turkey.

“The choice is mine right?” You mumbled not taking your eyes off the bag.

“Completely yours” Wendi said sitting next to you placing her hand on your knee, “If you want to take it, take it but if you don’t then that’s fine. We aren’t going to make the decision for you”

Could you go cold turkey?

Taking a deep breath, you looked up at everyone with tears in your eyes.

“Take it away from me” You said as tears ran down your cheeks.

“Are you sure lass?” Chibs asked crouching in front of you.

“Yes, I appreciate you letting me get one fix a day but I think that would make things worse” You whispered “I need to see if I can do it without the daily fixes first”

“We are here every step of the way” Jax whispered kissing your head. “Every step of the way”

#jax teller x reader #jax teller one shot #jax teller imagine #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy one shot

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cuttingthe-painter · 5 years

Text

Vampire Boyfriend - Percy

My friend and I both both the same book of writing prompts and have started a challenge where we each write a story based off the same prompt. This is the first one I’ve done during this challenge, I hope you all like it! I apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors, I finished this at 1am and am very tired.

Prompt: a: He read me a poem. b: And you let him live?

Also do vampires count as a monster boyfriend? I’m gonna be self-serving and just say they do!

male monster x female reader

“He read me a poem,” you announced, busting through the apartment door. Avery looked up from her laptop, grinning at you like a madman.

“And you let him live?” You leveled her with a glare and dropped your bag, a solid thud filling the space between you two.

“It was cute,” you huffed, yanking off your mittens and scarf before unzipping your coat.

“You hate poetry,” Avery laughed. She closed her laptop and sat up, patting the seat next to her. You take your boots off before walking over to the couch and falling into her side. You let out a sigh as you sank into her warmth. “Tell me about this cute poetry, then.”

“So, Percy was walking me home from class, right?”

“Right,” Avery acknowledged, nodding her head to urge me on.

“Well, he was telling me about one of his classes where they discuss poetry. He was going on and on until I finally told him ‘I hate poetry.’ And you know what he said to me?”

“What’d he say?” Avery asked, motioning for you to grab the chips off the coffee table for her. You leaned forward and grabbed the Doritos, handing them to her before you continued.

“He said ‘you just haven’t read the right poems’ and laughed!” you exclaimed. You grabbed a chip from the bag, popped it in your mouth, and went on. “So Percy pulled a book out of his bag and opened to a bookmarked page, as if he had been saving the poem just to read to me. Honestly, Ry? It gave me butterflies.”

“I don’t know if it was that you liked the poem, or that you liked the idea of Percy reading you a love poem,” Avery teased, waggling her perfectly sculpted brows at you. You smacked at her playfully and sat up to your phone out of you pocket. You typed the name of the poem into google and pulled it up.

“Let me read it to you,” you offered, waiting for the link to load.

“Only if you make your voice all low and dreamy like Percy’s,” Avery snorted, using the chip bag to block your next swipe at her. You roll your eyes before clearing your throat and beginning to read.

“Outside the sky is light with stars;

There’s a hollow roaring from the sea.

And, alas! for the little almond flowers,

The wind is shaking the almond tree.

How little I thought, a year ago,

In the horrible cottage upon the Lee

That he and I should be sitting so

And sipping a cup of chamomile tea

Light as feathers the witches fly,

The horn of the moon is plain to see;

By a firefly under a jonquil flower

A goblin toasts a bumble-bee.

We might be fifty, we might be five,

So snug, so compact, so wise are we!

Under the kitchen-table leg

My knee is pressing against his knee.

Our shutters are shut, the fire is low,

The tap is dripping peacefully;

The saucepan shadows on the wall

Are black and round and plain to see.”

You finish reading the poem and look up at Avery to gauge her reaction. She’s staring at you, a sparkle in her eye and a smile on her lips. She lifts another chip to her mouth and chews thoughtfully, slower than she would normally chew. Silence sat between you both, feeling thicker with every passing second. Finally, she swallowed her chip and laughed.

“He read you a love poem!” she cheered, kicking her feet in glee and falling to her side on the couch. “What year is it! What did you say?”

“I said thank you? And told him it was a nice poem.” She stilled, slowly turning towards you. Suddenly, she kicked out, striking you in the leg. “Hey! What the hell?”

“You dummy! He read you a love poem and you said thank you? You might as well had said ‘Thanks but the feelings are not mutual!’” She mocked in a mediocre attempt at what you could only guess was your voice. “You’ve better not have blown it. Text him right now, ask him on a date.”

“I’m not going to do that, Avery! It’s fine.” She launched towards you, attempting to snatch the phone from your hands. You shot of the couch, cradling your phone to your chest as you ran to your room. “I’ll see him in two days!”

That night, you dreamt you sat on the porch of a cottage. The moon sat amongst the splatter of stars in the night sky, casting its glow onto you. Next to you sat Percy, dressed in a loose-fitting, white crew neck tucked into high waisted denim jeans. His normally dark, messy curls were tamed, gelled into a side swept wave. He sat with his right hand resting on your left, his fingers fidgeting with a ring on your finger. The stars reflected in his eyes as he turned to look at you. He opened his mouth to speak, but all you could hear was the roar of the sea in the distance.

The next day, you weren’t able to focus on any of your work. After hours of staring at your books and computer screen, you gave up any semblance of productivity. The weather that evening was significantly warmer than the evening prior. Perfect, I can get out of the house without freezing my ass off, you thought. You got dressed, checked yourself out in the mirror to check that you looked somewhat presentable, and went to leave the apartment. You could hear snores from Avery’s room as you walked down the hallway. She must be taking what she calls her “evening nap”, meaning she’ll be passed out until tomorrow morning. You grabbed your wallet, keys, and jacket and made your way down the block.

The night was warm, but accompanied by a chill in the breeze. The streets were fairly empty; cars buzzed by while you moseyed along. You weren’t sure where you wanted to go, but when the warm smell of coffee enveloped you, you made up your mind. The aroma of the coffee and pastries filled your senses when you pushed passed the door. The cafe was fairly empty, only a couple of tables were occupied and there was no line. You walked up to the counter and ordered yourself a chamomile tea, hoping it would help calm your anxious mind.

When you sit with your order, you chuckle, noting the irony of Percy reading you a poem titled after your favorite drink. Time is lost when you drink your tea and read. You had forgotten where you even were until you hear a familiar voice to your right.

“Is anyone sitting here?” a smooth, low voice asks. You look up, smiling when you met Percy’s bright hazel eyes. He pulled the chair out when you shook your head, sitting after he set his drink down. His chestnut curls fell into his eyes as he sat; he ran his fingers through them, moving them out of his face, before rubbing his pale hand over the shaved side. A lazy smile stretched across his face when he caught you staring. You looked down at your tea, attempting to hide the blush warming your cheeks.

“I don’t normally see you here. What brings you tonight?” Percy asked, lifting his cup to his full lips and taking a sip. You tracked the motion, acutely aware of the way it made your stomach flip.

“I was just feeling anxious around the house,” you explain, dropping our eyes and focusing on your hands on the steaming cup in front of you. “My mind has just been racing all day. I thought a walk would help, and then I saw the cafe and thought a tea would help.” There was an understanding look in Percy’s eye, he smiled reassuringly at you and knocked his knee against yours to offer some sort of comfort.

Under the kitchen-table leg, My knee is pressing against his knee.You furrowed your brow when the poem’s lines rang through your head, accompanied by a sense of déjà vu. Percy noticed the change in your demeanor and leaned forward, his hand reaching across the table to hold yours. His hand was unnaturally cold against your warmth.

“I could join you on a walk if you’d like,” he offered gently, his thumb absently rubbing circles into your skin. You nod, standing and pulling your jacket on. “Did you want another tea before we went?”

“Sure, that’d be nice.” Percy quickly stood and moved to the counter. You walked to the trash, listening to him order as you threw your cups away. Did he order you a chamomile? You assumed he would have just ordered you a typical black tea or something; you had never told him you prefered chamomile. Maybe he had noticed the scent of your tea while you both had been sitting.

Percy met you at the door, two drinks in hand. You took yours and breathed in the warm aroma, confirming that he did indeed order you a chamomile. You were about to ask how he knew when he opened the door and guided you out with a hand on your lower back. That was a new thing he had started doing; touching in general was something knew between you both. You fell into stride alongside him and settled into a comfortable silence. You were the first to talk, your voice soft amongst the sounds of the streets.

“Do you go there a lot?” you asked, tilting your head back in the direction of the cafe. “M’yeah,” he replied, swallowing a mouthful of his drink. “An old family friend owns the place, Rosie. I try to visit her every evening; it’s definitely easier Tuesdays and Thursdays since its on the way home from your place.”

“Did you grow up here? Is that why your family knows her?” you probed, excited to learn more about Percy’s youth.

“I guess you could say that,” he laughed, “I’ve lived a lot of places, but something always brings me back here.” His fingers brushed against your hand as you both walked, driving the butterflies in your stomach mad. You extended your pinky towards his, chasing the feeling. When your pinkies locked, he adjusted his hand and wove your fingers together.

“What brings you back?” His thumb began running those lazy circles over your skin again, as if it were an answer. You looked up to him, admiring the contours of his face as you waited for a response. His teeth tugged at his bottom lip while he thought; you focused on the motion, thinking about what his lips might feel like against yours. What his teeth might feel like on your skin. Heat rose to your cheeks at the thoughts and your heart fluttered in your chest. Beside you, Percy let out a shaky breath, gently squeezed your hand and pulled you to a stop .

“Can I show you one of my favorite places?” he asked, an emotion that you couldn’t place dancing in his eyes.

“Sure,” you answered, “I’d love that.” Percy guided you both through the town, only letting go your hand to let you text Avery your plans. Conversation always flowed naturally between you both, as if you had been friends for years, and this time was no different. You wanted nothing more than to curl up and listen to him talk to hours.

Vibrations pulsing in your pocket brought you out of your daze. You let go of Percy’s hand to shuffle your drink into it as your pulled your phone out. A message from Avery flashed on your screen; you typed in your passcode to read the message.

Did he shake your almond tree yet? A winky face and some questionable emojis accompanied the text. A snort tore from you when you read the poor innuendo.

“What’s so funny?” Percy asked, stepping into your space to look at the screen. You locked the screen and turned to face him, not realizing just how close he was.

“Uh, n-nothing,” you stammered nervously, breath hitching in your throat. His eyes flickered to your mouth when you spoke and you watched as his tongue darted out to run along his lower lip. You bit your own as you looked from his mouth back up to his eyes.

“Ah, well we should continue then, we’re almost there,” he murmured huskily. You let out a noise, hoping it was one of agreement, and started walking with him. When you finally saw where he was taking you, you couldn’t breathe. You had been here before. At least, in your dreams you had been here. An old cottage sat in the distance, overlooking the sea. A misty breeze welcomed you the closer you got, sending chills through you. You walked closer to Percy, searching for a warmth he didn’t have.

Once you were at the cottage, Percy pulled you to sit on the porch with him. Images of your dream flashed through your mind, Percy sitting, his hand atop yours, as you both looked up into the night sky.

“I feel like I’ve been here before,” you confessed, turning to meet his eyes. His hand moved to rest on yours, urging you to continue. “I don’t know why, Percy, but everything about you just seems so familiar.”

“That’s a good thing, I hope,” he said hopefully. You nodded and turned your face upwards, basking in the glow of the bright moon.

“The best thing.” “A toast then!” Percy exclaims, a clap sounding his joy. You laughed, watching him pick up his now cold drink. You followed suit, picking up your tea. He turned to face, drink raised. “To familiarity!” “To familiarity!” you repeated, raising your cup to tap his. He pulled his cup back, not letting yours touch his.

“And to you, my bumble-bee.” His cup tapped yours, but you didn’t feel it. All your senses clouded, your head spun. Hands steadied you, but you barely felt them. Visions flooded your mind, visions of you and Percy. Percy, in his waistcoat, walking you through a garden filled with roses. Percy, in a pale suit and straw boater hat, walking with you through the bustling city. Percy, with his white crew neck tee and high waisted jeans, having tea with you on the beach. Percy, in his fitted peacoat, drinking tea with you on the porch at your cottage by the sea.

Your cottage by the sea. The cottage Percy surprised you with after your wedding, knowing how much you loved walking along the shores at night. The cottage where you now sat, remembering every life you’ve lived with Percy. Every life where you had forgotten he existed, only for him to find you and help you remember.

“My bumble-bee,” he murmured again, moving his hand to cup your face. You nuzzle into it, inhaling his earthy scent and kissing his palm. His thumb ran along your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t felt fall. “You remember?”

You did. You remembered every time you met him. Every time you loved him. Every time he asked you to join him, to take the bite and live with him forever. Every time you said no, too afraid to lose your humanity.

“I do,” you whispered, leaning into him. When he smiled, you noticed his fangs were out. You reached up and ran your fingers along them, careful to not let them prick your finger. Percy playfully bit at them before kissing them gently.

“Something always bring me back,” he cooed, pulling your face closer to him. “Come here.” His lips brush yours and the world fell away. All you knew was the feel of Percy holding you, his scent flooding your senses. His thumb caressed your cheek as he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

“I missed you so much, my sweet,” he breathed, “Every new life is more difficult than the last. I was starting to think you wouldn’t remember this time.” The sadness in his voice made your chest ache. You didn’t want Percy to have to feel that sadness, not because of you.

“Maybe this time, I stay.” Percy stilled, letting a moment pass before sitting back and holding your gaze. You couldn’t read the emotions flashing through his eyes. You sucked in a slow breath before continuing, “I think this time I’m ready for you to change me. I don’t want to forget you again.” Percy pulled you to his lap, cradling you against his chest. He pressed a kiss into your hair and rested there, breathing in your scent.

“Oh, my bumble-bee, I’ve waited for hundreds of years to hear those words.” He kissed you again, slow and soft, conveying the emotions his words couldn’t. He pulled away, panting slightly. “But there’s still time; you don’t have to make that decision yet.”

“I love you,” you whisper, nuzzling your head into his neck. He was right, there was still time to decide, but you’ve already made up your mind. He wouldn’t have to ask you again because this time, you wouldn’t be leaving him.

#exophilia #exophili #monster boyfriend #vampire boyfriend #my fic #stories #my writing #fluff #sfw #monster lover

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sapphossidechick · 3 years

Note

ok i’m just gonna send you a chapter a day through here if that’s alright (let me know if it’s not though and i’ll do something else) (also i apologize in advance it pains me to even look at this i’m so sorry)

Chapter One: I make an enemy of a major slime ball

I stood on the hill, peering over the rock. An imperial gold sword flew over my head and impaled itself into the centurion’s chest. He dropped like a sack of rocks. My friend, Reyna, climbed over rocks and scattered weapons towards me. She had appeared three years ago now, with the wolf goddess, Lupa. She had joined the Fifth Cohort hastily, because we had been under attack. But three years ago seems not that long ago when you’re under attack, because we were still under that same attack, and because you don’t really keep track of time while you fight.

“Jason!” Reyna yelled. “Is he gonna be okay?”

I grimaced. She was only a year younger than me, but she was too little, much too little to be in battle. I didn’t want to scare her.

“Yeah,” I told her. “He’ll be fine.”

Let me backup. I’ve been at camp almost my whole life. When I was either two or three, I was most likely abandoned by my mom. I ended up at the Wolf House, which is where most heroes go in the beginning. I met Lupa and her pack, who taught me just about everything until I was four. Then, they decided that I’d learned enough, and brought me to camp. There were many cohorts that wanted me, because I was so young, and they could shape me up to their standards. But when I’d looked around, there was one cohort that stood for me, but they weren't trying that hard. I immediately picked them. For the next couple of days afterwards, I was known as the “new loser for the fifth” by everyone because I had chosen the fifth cohort, the cohort that had lost our camp it's eagle. An eagle for a camp, or even a part of Rome, was used as a standard for a Roman legion. A fifth cohort member was the aquailifer, also known as an eagle bearer. He lost it, we believe, somewhere in Alaska, the land beyond the gods. No god could help you there. It was way too far north. By joining the fifth cohort, I had become the all time loser. But for me, joining the fifth cohort was a lucky break for them, because I thought I was gonna earn back their reputation. Yeah, I know. For a four year old, my head was pretty big.

Anyways, a yell told me the enemy was getting closer. Reyna wiped her face, picked up her sword, and charged.

“Reyna, no!” I yelled, but it was too late.

She had charged, head on, a huge giant. She cut the giant’s leg. It roared and swiped at her face. She dodged it's hand and slashed it off. The giant stumbled backwards and fell over with a loud bang. She repeatedly stabbed and slashed it and just downright took on the giant by herself. When she was done, she came back, huffing and puffing.

“I-I’m tired…” she told me. Then she proceeded to faint.

I caught her and took her into one of the caves nearby. The children/descendants of Apollo who weren’t fighting took care of all the wounded or tired. Reyna was taken to a bunk. The room was surprisingly well lit for a cave. Fairy lights were strung up along the room, along with some assorted Christmas lights. The children or descendants of Apollo were either tending to an injured one, or they were restocking some sort of supply cabinet. The beds were pretty nice, too. They weren’t really beds, though. They were more hammocks. If hammocks and beds had children… okay that sounded really weird, but that’s what they looked like.

Finally, after looking around the cave and making sure that Reyna was okay, I trudged outside and looked around. It was eerily quiet.

“What happened?” I asked a girl passing by.

She shrugged. I noticed her arm had a long, deep bruise. “Once the giant was defeated, they disappeared. I don’t really know what happened. But I do know that we can finally stop fighting. It’s like that Frozen song, isn’t it? For the first time in forever…”

I furrowed my eyebrows. Maybe the girl had gone crazy while fighting for so long, or maybe that was just her. Whatever the reason, I was confused. I walked over to a rock and sat down. What had Reyna done to cause them to retreat so quickly? Who was this kid who could defeat that ginormous giant by herself? As I thought, a shadow passed over me. I drew my sword, ready to defend myself, but when I looked up, a boy, maybe fifteen, stared back at me. He looked like a scarecrow with his long, skinny arms. His hair looked thin and ruffled, as though he’d been fighting along with us, though I knew he hadn’t, because I’d seen everyone on the battlefield, yet no one like him. His face was pale, and he appeared sickly, but his long, thin smile ruined the image. He looked directly at me and said, “I am Octavian. I am a descendant of Apollo, and I will be the best thing that ever happened to your camp.”

After a few days, the wreckage of our camp, Camp Jupiter, if you were wondering, was cleaned up, and almost everyone was healed. The boy, Octavian, strutted around like he owned the place, while everyone else was training to make sure that nothing like that would ever happen again. Reyna was fully rested and would not leave my side. She looked better, now that she was rested. But she also was a bit more happy now that the war was over. We’d begun to call it the ‘war-where-Reyna-kills-one-thing-and-ends-the-war’ war, but not many people called it that. I knew three or four people who actually did it. It also came to our attention that a praetor had been killed in the fight. His name had been Laochra, which meant heroes in Irish. We had called him Lao, because that was easier to say. We were reluctant to do so, but we knew that we would have to elect a new praetor. That night, we gathered at the Senate House. We filed in and sat in the semicircle of seats. If you’ve been to a Senate House before, you haven’t seen nothing yet. Our senate House was ginormous. The wood paneling along the walls went halfway up, and the rows of benches leading upward in a semicircle had nice, comfortable cushions. The praetor chairs sat in the center, and they kind of looked like miniature thrones. One of them was occupied.

“Senatus Populusque Romanus!” chanted our living praetor.

We stood, echoed the chant, then took our seats once more. The meeting was a blur, but eventually, we elected a praetor. When our one praetor announced who was elected, my head felt like it was spinning.

“Jason,” whispered someone next to me. “Get out there.”

I stood up and walked to the center where the praetor, Jayni Garcia, stood. She gave me a quick smile.

“Congratulations, Jason Grace. You deserve this,” she told me.

Jayni was one of the few people still at camp from when I’d arrived. I was about four when I’d arrived. She’d been six. I can still recall her face when she showed me around camp. When she’d smiled at me, I could see that she was missing her two front teeth. Now, though, she looked more mature, more troubled. She gave me a purple robe, and burned markings into my arm. Just saying, those markings hurt when they’re burned into your arm. Then she hugged me just as she had when I was four and I had started to cry because I was scared. I winced during the hug, because she accidentally put pressure on the markings.

As I walked back to my bunk, I still couldn’t believe what had happened. Then an annoying little someone blocked my path.

“Octavian. What do you want?”

Even though it was dark I could still see his sly smile.

“Just came to congratulate you, praetor,” he said innocently, though I could tell he was lying.

This kid was more than he looked. I realized he could be a threat to me if I made him an enemy of mine. But that didn’t stop me from responding.

“Oh, thanks Octavian. But what do you really want?”

I put all the sarcasm I could into my first sentence. His smile changed into a frown.

“Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, you do not want me as your enemy.”

Then he turned and charged down the path.

“Bye, Octavian!” I called after him.

I may have imagined it, but I thought I heard him snarl.

Reyna found me as I continued my trek back to my bunk.

“Jason, what happened back there? Someone said you’d been made praetor…?”

The way she said this told me that she wouldn’t believe anyone else until I told her it was true. I nodded.

“Oh, yay! Congratulations, Jason!”

She smiled at me, and she looked so truly happy, I smiled back.

“It’s late, Reyna, and you need sleep. I’ll see you in the morning, ‘kay?”

She gave me a double thumbs up, then ran to her bunk and crawled in.

“Night, Jason,” she said, and with that, she fell asleep.

As I crawled into my bunk, I could feel myself drifting off, too.

Just a heads up, demigods like me rarely have any normal dreams. Our “dreams” are more like visions of either the past, present, or future. Sometimes they’re warnings, or other times they're just memories. Tonight, as I fell asleep, I dove head first into a memory, and a vision. Most likely from some sort of god or goddess. The sky was a mixture of pink, purple, and orange. The sun was setting, and there were sounds of laughter. A girl was sitting by me, and in her hair was a half moon crescent. She wore clothes for a hunter, even though she looked younger than me. Strung across her back was a silver bow and arrow.

“Jason Grace,” she said. Her voice was cold, but she didn’t seem like she was going to hurt me. “Your sister believes you are dead. I will not tell her that you are alive. She deserves to find you herself. She has joined the hunters of Artemis with me. There, she will be safe from most harm. I chose this memory of yours to appear, because it was the only one you still have of her.”

I raised my eyebrows, which I wasn’t sure I could do in a dream. “Are you… Artemis?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m Petunia. Of course I am Artemis. Who did you think I was? Britney Spears?”

To be honest, she looked nothing like Britney Spears. I shook my head. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief, the waved her hand. The dream started rapidly fading.

“A gift from you sister will be with you when you wake!” she called. Then I woke up.

that was great! honestly i’m invested now even tho it’s a backstory and i know what will happen. pls send me more slsknsjdj

#jason grace

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fvaleraye · 4 years

Text

Ashes and Dust

Heyyyyyy, would you look at that... another Scintillam chapter. Ngl, I hit a creative block super hard for a while. I had several WIPs that I wanted to do, but... like, once I started them, I didn’t really feel it, y’know? So, I decided to start fresh, and just. Work on something chill. So I did! This is gonna be another Charthos chapter, I’ll probably swap back to the gals pov soon, but I’m just feeling my old cranky pyromancer man rn Also, I would like to give a big shoutout to @artnerd1123 for proofreading the chapter for me, and helping fix some stuff that i missed/didn’t think about. Tyvm, Belle... I appreciate you... Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy reading...

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The month of the Blazing Moon meant long days, and short nights. A dreadful heat washed over most of the land, as the name implied, save for the ever-chilled northern mountains, of course. The farmers across the land harvested their summer crops and prepared for the coming of fall. Though travel wasn't exactly booming in the suffocating summer heat- unless the travel led to a coast or someplace cooler- there were many who were unbothered by the temperature. The lizardfolk especially thrived during these times. On the other hand, pyromancers considered the Blazing Moon to be a holy month, if for no other reason than the fact that it preceded the coming of the Embered Moon, when the Rite of Embers would take place. To see a pyromancer out of their lands during these months was a rarity, but one could be seen walking the roads. An old, tired pyromancer. Charthos had been travelling for weeks. Magna Terra was not small, but the place he searched for was. Just a modest little hamlet in the middle of nowhere. In the Great Plains, no less- one of the biggest open spaces of absolutely nothing on the whole continent. It was easier to navigate than the Ashen Plains. No waist-high ash to trudge through. Roads were still sparse, though. And every direction looked equally identical. At least the sun was visible, that helped. And he had a passable sense of direction. And he remembered the little town from many, many years ago. It had something resembling sentimental significance for him. Something like that. Still wasn't easy to find. There weren't exactly towers scraping the clouds to tell him when he was getting close. If he was visiting one of the cities, this wouldn't be nearly as difficult. He huffed, embers and sparks leaving his old, splintered body. He watched the little sparks of life fall to the earth. At least this grass isn't dry yet. He mused. That would cause issues for the Uncharred 'round here, huh... He let out a quiet little chuckle. For a people who didn't use fire for much more than lighting the dark or warming things up, they sure did live in some flammable areas. A few suns pass, more of the same. Eventually, hints of brown wood, stone foundations, and gray smoke from chimneys started to peak over the horizon. Thank the fucking Traveller, I'm finally here. Or, well, close enough.

Another few minutes of trudging slowly on the path lead the pyromancer to the town square. It was a quiet town. Or, at least, it was supposed to be. There was a decent crowd gathered in the middle of the square, seemed like the whole town, or near enough. They were gathered around a woman in strange garb standing on a small makeshift stage. She was not a short woman- even if she was level with the crowd she would probably still peek over their heads- but she was still clearly human. At least, from what one could tell. She wore a pale dress with no sleeves, and ribbons circled her arms. Her face was covered but a wooden mask, the face of it painted with a fierce, purple visage, with horns protruding from the sides, her brown hair braided underneath it. Around her on the stage were a few other similarly dressed individuals, though, unlike her, they were silent. The woman was yelling and gesturing with all the fervor and energy of a young, opinionated priest. But she wasn't a priestess. At least, not like one he had seen. He stepped closer to the edge of the crowd to better hear what had the strange woman up in arms.

"-nd one day, they will return! The great, scaled beasts of time immemorial!" She cried. "The dragons will return, and the skies shall darken beneath their great wings, as they take back what was once, what has always been, theirs, and destroy those who presume to own their lands, their world!" She began pointing to various members of the crowd. "All of you, all of us, will be wiped from this world, like footprints washed away in a rainstorm, as the fury of nature itself descends on us, and we will all be but ashes and dust! Unless we supplicate the great scaled ones as we once did! Mayhaps, they will even see fit to elevate us to their greatness! You need only-!"

Charthos began to walk away after realizing that the one he was looking for wasn't among the crowd, as well as getting tired of the woman's screeching, and the looks from the crowd. Doomsayers. Dime a dozen nowadays... He thought, given an exasperated sigh. He stepped away from the main square, and began making his way towards the residential area of the little town. He glanced over each home as he walked, looking for one in particular. They were all very similar; wooden walls and roof, at least two windows, chimney, stone foundation raising it above the dirt... the differences were aesthetic. Some had nice curtains. Others had cleanly painted roofs, or walls. A few had flowers, whether gardens of them, or simply a few on the window sill. It was downright pleasant. What I wouldn't give to live like this again. Even if only for a time. He brushed off the sentimental thoughts as he turned to one house, practically near the end of the edge of town. It was simple, like all the others. It had purple curtains, and rather... exotic looking plants growing in a side garden. He walked up the steps, and gave the door a small knock. There was some silence, and then he knocked again, this time louder. Footsteps started approaching the door, the sounds of several locks being undone sounded past the wooden surface. After a moment, a pair of gray eyes peeked past a crack in the door. They looked over the demon-infested, wooden man, and closed the door to undo another lock. The door creaked open, revealing a tired looking woman in patchy clothes. "May I come in?" Charthos asked, hesitantly. The woman just motioned him inside, and locked the door before turning to face him.

"What do you want, old man?" She asked tersely, leaning on the doorway of the dimly lit, but still rather charming abode.

"Hello to you too, Penelope." He replied, his tone jabbing at her.

"If you're going to be like that, get out." She spit, her tired voice laced with venom.

"Aw, I feel so welcomed. Every grandfather's dream." He sighed, crouching down in front of the fireplace. "I need a favor from you, dear."

"Of course you do." She let out a spiteful laugh, still leaning on the doorway. "You never write, let alone visit, unless you need something from me."

Uncomfortable silence settled over the room, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on. The man simply stared into the roaring flame in the stone fireplace, lost in his own head for a moment that felt like eternity. He didn't want to reply. He couldn't reply. Not with anything she would want to hear. Nothing he could say would make up for anything. Even if he wasn't facing her, he could feel her gaze piercing through him, bright and furious, like a bolt of lightning.

"Are you going to say anything?" She said, her frustrated tone slicing through the silence like a dagger.

"What do you want me to say?" He spat back, glancing over his shoulder. "I'm sorry? I've said that. I've said it so many times to so many people it's lost its meaning. Want me to say I was wrong? Well I was. Too late to change anything. What can I say that'll make you happy?"

Silence settled again. No answer came. She couldn't think of one. She just gave a long, tired sigh.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." He mumbled, turning back to the fire. "What are you cooking in here?"

She raised a brow at the question. "Excuse me?"

"What are you cooking in this fire?" He gestured to what was seemingly open air above the fire. "You're not warmin' up. Not in the middle of bleedin' summer. What are you cooking?"

After a brief moment of indignant hesitation, Penelope stepped away from the doorway, and waved a hand at the fire. The once orange and yellow flames turned black and purple, and all light they once produced vanished. In the center was a now visible deer's skull, being slowly and unnaturally devoured by the flames. Black magic. The pyromancer gave a small chuckle. "You really are like your mum." He said, tilting his head at it. "... how's she doin', by the by?"

"She's fine." The witch replied, tersely.

"... I'll take your word for it." He sighed. "How's your deadbeat pop?"

She returned with a sigh of her own, before giving an answer. "Hell if I know."

"I figured as much."

The two continued to stare at the dark flame in silence, as it casted dark and unnatural shadows over the room. The shifting shapes whispered indecipherably, in dead languages. Neither were very perturbed by it, but the girl was the only one really listening. That's why it was there, after all. After about half an hour of silence, the deer skull was gone, completely devoured by the flames, and with that, the black flames were gone near instantly, as well as the shapes, and their whispering. Light returned to the room, but silence was still dominant. Eventually, it was broken by another long sigh from the young witch. "I'll say it again. What do you want, old man?" He stared quietly at the open space where there was once fire. There were no embers. No smoke. It was as if it wasn't even there. An absolute void of space within the stone fireplace. Pristine. As if it had never been used once. He took a long, deep breath. He wanted to berate her. Tell her to maybe not make dealings with these things, but it would fall on deaf ears. Same as her mother. And besides. He wasn't one to talk, really.

"I need a coal." He said, finally. His request stilled the air in the wooden home.

After a moment of silence, the witch simply leaned over, reaching a hand into the fireplace, as a dark, viscous substance started to bleed from the stone. It wormed and writhed to the space where her hand rested, and formed into a small stone-like object. Darker than black, it seemed to suck the light out of the area around it. She handed it to him wordlessly, and he took it, stuffing it into a bag at his hip. With that now in his possession, he stood up, and looked to her. "Thank you, dear." He whispered, stepping towards the door. "I'll be going now. I know when I'm not wanted." He stepped out the door, and it was shut behind him. No goodbyes were exchanged, nothing more was said. Nothing more needed to be said. As he stepped down from the porch of the humble little house and back onto the dirt, he glanced back over his shoulder. "... I love you, dear." He said, wistfully. "You and your mum. I always did. The only flesh and blood I got left." He looked to the ground, his branches swaying a bit in the wind. "... and you." He added, seemingly to no-one in particular. Seemingly. "If any harm comes to her on account of you, I will know. And I will find you." With those final, ominous words, he started his trip out back out of town, a shape slipping out of his shadow as he left, to his next stop on this little journey of his.

#Valerie Writes #Scintillam #Charthos #i'm proud of how this one turned out #and i appreciate belle's assistance...#definitely helped make the chapter as good as it is #even if it was only little things #the little things matter!#but ye #hope y'all like it #n' rebops are appreciated if u did...

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crimsonbluemoon · 5 years

Text

Working For Love: A TerrorMoo Story 5/17

Happy Sunday! I’m still feeling gross, but good enough to get this chapter out. So I hope you enjoy this one and the next one coming out at 7pm tonight.

Previous Part

Start from the beginning

Having Mini as a friend was dangerous.

Brock stared at his name written in Craig’s loopy handwriting on the sign up for yoga, unsure what emotion to settle on. Anger, confusion, and shock were on the top of the list, though anxiety had been making a steady incline when he realized who the instructor for the 4pm class was.

“No way.”

“He’s already seen we’re signed up,” Craig said, tugging on Brock’s arm to pull him away from the gym’s bulletin board. Much to Brock’s fear, they didn’t move toward the treadmills, passing his comfort zone when they stepped into another part of the gym. Brock had never had a reason to go beyond the stretching corner, as he’d only learned recently about the classes offered. He hadn’t lied to Brian when he said he’d look over the different exercise programs; he practically stared at the schedule every night before going to bed. Each time he would look at the next day’s classes, pick out which one he would attend, and go to bed with the confidence of starting the next step to his weight loss. Fourteen pounds had been shed during the first two months, and Brock didn’t want to let himself slow down. But by the time morning hit his bed the next day, sleep had claimed his courage and he found himself on the treadmill yet again.

Then Hurricane Mini happened, and Brock didn’t have a choice.

“I don’t know the first thing about yoga,” Brock said, knowing that his attempt to escape the class would be blissfully ignored by his friend. Mini, with no hint of sympathy, pushed through the door of the classroom with confidence that a beginner shouldn’t have had.

“That’s why we’re here to learn. And honestly, does this look like a competitive group?” In truth, Craig was right; there were only women now milling around the room, and none of them could be younger than 50. It was a weird comfort of sorts, knowing there wouldn’t be other men to judge him and the way his arms sagged in certain positions.

“I’m only trying one class, Mini.”

“One class? I just read a sign that said we get a free smoothie after class; I’m going to live here.” The women didn’t seem to mind them joining, some even cooing at the ‘cute younger men’ making the room brighter. Brock sputtered while Craig preened at the compliments, letting the women even pinch his cheeks. It took far longer than it should have to drag Mini to the back corner of the room, laying out the new mats his friend had bought for the class. Craig didn’t look happy to be ‘shoved into a corner’, but he didn’t get a chance to voice his complaint when the door of the room swung open again.

“Hey ladies, welcome back.” Brian’s grin was infectious when he walked to the front of the room. Brock could nearly see the hearts growing in the women’s eyes when he walked by them, though his face went red after realizing their gazes drifted a little lower than he’d expected. From the snort of laughter Mini gave out, he’d caught on to the women’s interest too. Brian’s legs were covered by compression pants, leaving little to the imagination. The sleeveless top didn’t make it any easier to keep Brock’s stomach from flipping, and he dropped his eyes to where his hands had started to smooth out his mat. He swore he heard a mini whistle to the right of him, making him nearly choke on his spit at the confidence of the women.

“He really knows how to make an entrance, huh?” Mini’s whisper made Brock send him a warning glare, palms a little rougher in their pushing of mat.

“Stop staring, he’s not a painting.”

“He is definitely a work of art.” The response wasn’t from Mini, but from the woman (she had to be his grandmother’s age!) a few feet in front of them. Brock wanted to melt into his mat when he looked back up at Brian, hating that parts of him (he wasn’t saying which) really did appreciate Brian’s beauty. But this was his friend now, someone he had started to really like. He didn’t want to just see his physical aspects and-

“Let’s start off with our downward facing dog to get stretched out.” Okay, his thighs looked really good in that position. Brock wanted to say he was better than the women in the room, that he didn’t take a few extra seconds of watching Brian’s muscles flow into the position before even thinking of pulling his jaw back up from the floor. He really wanted to say that.

But he only remembered how to move when Mini poked him in the side to show everyone else had started their yoga pose.

Embarrassment filled his stomach when he hurried into the stance, but luckily any more distracting thoughts of how nice Brian’s skin looked against the dark green of his tank top was lost when realizing something else terrifying; Brock didn’t have balance. Mini, despite being a mess in life, was quickly picking up on the intricacies of yoga without much guidance. Brock wanted to flow into it as easily as his friend, or even the women who were twice his age. But Brock’s body had been shifting over the past couple months, and muscle and weight in different places left him off-kilter. He hated that he toppled over during the triangle pose, and that he couldn’t fully bend for the seated forward fold. He felt his stomach roll over itself in the position, and the shame and self-doubt roared through him while he ducked his head between his biceps and squeezed his eyes closed. Yoga was meant to be relaxing and inspiring, wasn’t it?

So how come Brock felt so clumsy and obtuse?

“Your heels aren’t set right, Brocky.” Brian’s voice pulled him out of his negative headspace, chasing away the thoughts with a soft smile and a slow offered palm. “Is it okay if I show you something?”

“Oh, um, ye-yes.” Brock had seen Brian fix other’s poses throughout the session, which he was sure some of the women messed up on purpose just to be corrected. This was a normal, routine touch given from an instructor to his student. But Brock could still feel the weird way his sweatpants cut into the fat around his hips, and he nearly flinched when Brian’s hand moved to his ankle.

“When you do the bridge pose, it’s focusing on opening up your chest while stretching your neck and spine. If you don’t have your feet placed under your knees properly, you won’t get that channel to breathe properly.” Brian’s hands didn’t seem bothered by the extra weight when they travelled up his calf to his hip, gentle in guiding Brock’s body into the bridge position. The momentum shifted Brock’s weight, and though doing the pose in the way Brian presented it felt better, Brock wasn’t sure his lungs could breathe with the warm hand on his waist. “This is also a good one to use to help with rising anxiety or if you’re having digestive problems.”

“It’s gonna help with something rising, that’s for sure.” Mini’s muttered answer didn’t help Brock’s butterflies, and he tried to keep his composure when glancing up to Brian and forcing out a smile.

“Thanks.” The slight pat on Brock’s hip before Brian pulled away nearly made him collapse in the pose, though he held on. Craig, however, had no problem in crumpling to the floor in laughter, and even some of the women sent bemused smiles and giggles Brock’s way when switching into the half-moon pose. Brian didn’t acknowledge any of the commotion, which Brock was grateful for, and he managed to finish the rest of the yoga class without embarrassing himself further. The hour had been more exhausting than he’d expected, but his muscles buzzed with a happy tiredness when he pushed out of their final pose to roll up the mats.

“That was so nice. I needed this.” Craig chirped out with a pep in his step, rolling his mat to the back of his neck before flopping his forearms around it. “You ready for a strawberry mango surprise? Martha says she can get us extra strawberries if we get there before the other women.”

“Only if you want rum in your smoothie.” Brian’s teasing tone pulled Brock’s attention behind him, seeing the trainer grin and step into their space. “Those women just use yoga as an excuse to drink booze before 5 pm, though they make sure to sneak their nips in when Tyler’s not around.”

“Why wasn’t I born a middle-aged married woman? They sound like so much fun.” The wistful sigh of Mini made Brock laugh and shake his head before turning his attention back to Brian.

“Thank you for the class, it was really nice.”

“No problem. Trying out different types of exercise will help keep your body from getting used to your style of working out, so take as many classes as you can. Which is why I came over to begin with.” Brock showed his confusion with a tilt of his head, catching the small twitch of something (affection couldn’t be the right word) of his lips while he smiled. “When Craig signed you two up, he put your name first. That technically means that you’re my 100th member to sign up for yoga this month.”

“I’m feeling there’s a prize for this, and I’m never putting you first again, Brock.” Mini’s humor didn’t help some of Brock’s uneasy energy when he pushed his weight between his two feet, hoping not to show his discomfort from the attention.

“It just means you get a private training session with me that you can cash in anytime. It can be another yoga hour or something else in the gym, but it’s tailored to what you wanna focus on.” The explanation had Brock’s hearth lodging itself into his throat while his stomach dropped out onto the floor, and he wasn’t sure which reaction to focus on.

“O-oh, that’s um… that’s nice, but Mini wrote the names so-”

“He’ll take it.” Craig cut in without hesitation, leaving no time for Brock to put up a fight. “Unless my free lesson is with a smoothie cocktail or run by a grumpy and preferably half-naked gym owner, I ain’t interested. It’d just go to waste on me. Take him whenever you want after smoothie hour. Brock’s all yours, and I meant that every way you can think of.”

“Mini-”

“And if that yoga lessons happens in your bed, well-”

“We’re going now!” Brock shoved Craig’s back with his mat to get the meddling menace away from Brian, sure his face would explode from the dirty implication. He glanced back before the door could swing closed behind him, catching the pleased smirk Brian wore when he waved. Brock’s ears could produce steam from how embarrassed he was. Mini’s grin didn’t leave his face for the rest of the day, sharing hi-fives and catty whistles with the yoga women when retelling his ‘deed for society’. Brock wanted to drown him in the blueberry passion smoothie Sheila presented him.

Having Mini as a friend wasn’t just dangerous; it was going to kill him.

And this is the first chapter released today. I love the Mini/Brock dynamic in this chapter. I cannot stress that enough <3. But I hope you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and let me know what you think!

#Terrormoo #Soft boys #Terroriser #Moo Snuckle #<3 #Crimson drabblez

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