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dr3amofagame · 3 years

Note

haha your snippit abt the dispenser got me thinking.

Dream gets let out of prison and he talks constantly, whatever is on his mind. And he's positive all the time. To a fault where people walk over him. And it doesn't make sense because he was tortured right???? But after an incident they find out it's because he hates the sound of silence and needs constant reminders that other people are there. Also he was punished for any negative emotions in the prison so his default is happy now,,,

hi anon !! this concept makes me SO goddamn sad ,, the idea that he Has to be happy bc anything else would mean punishment im so *punches the walls*

this ,, ficlet is honestly. pretty ooc, not really related to the ask at all, and mostly an excuse for me to cry abt c!dream and c!punz for an excessive amount of time (technically the vote on twitter was supposed to have this as c!sapnap pov, but i just wrote one for him so i went for c!punz instead. mostly bc i wanted to write him LMAO). hopefully someone enjoys it despite *gestures vaguely* all of that mess

tw: trauma, disordered eating, implied torture/abuse, blood, injuries, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional distress, thoughts of murder/mercy killing, mentioned animal death, dark content

In the end, it’s all rather anticlimactic, the complete opposite of Dream’s vault and the whole fiasco of adrenaline and theatrics that had made up that day. Quackity ended up having one too many drinks, bragged about the wrong thing to the wrong person - Punz doesn’t know the specifics, only knows that one thing has led to another and suddenly Sapnap was screaming at his ex-fiancé, sword pointed at his chest and tears streaming down his eyes in the middle of the Community House floor, everyone else stood around and watching. A look into Quackity’s office said everything he didn’t - the chests and chests of used and new tools, shiny and sharpened and completely rusted over with blood and everything in between. There’s been a balled up shirt in the wastebasket, completely unsalvageable from how saturated it was with blood, more red than white, and perhaps most chilling of all the calendar, marked with X after X in red pen, going back months and speaking to their utter failure to see what had been happening all but right in front of them.

With Quackity down, Sam caved not too long after, and with his input getting into the prison was no challenge at all. The only thing holding them back were bad memories and the tense, worried edge to Sam’s jaw as he led the small group of them - himself and Sapnap, actually entering the facility, Bad and Puffy waiting outside - carrying them through winding corridor after winding corridor and lava pit after lava pit, until they’d come to stand before a chasm filled with flowing lava, slowly draining before the main cell.

“I- I have to warn you,” Sam had muttered, uncharacteristically hesitant, “it looks…pretty bad,” and Punz would’ve questioned him further, but the lava had fallen far enough to reveal the topmost edge of the cell, so they let Sapnap hound the Warden for information as they directed their full attention on the cell itself and holy shit.

Nothing Sam said could’ve possibly have prepared them for the sight - it was a complete fucking bloodbath, crimson painting the walls and smeared over the floor and splattered over every visible surface like some abstract art experiment gone wrong. The stench of iron and burning flesh and viscera was awful, even over the gap marked by the still-draining lava. Punz strained his eyes; at the very back of the cell, huddled, unmoving, was a similarly bloodstained shape that must’ve been Dream. They remember the crack of Sapnap’s knuckles meeting Sam’s face and breaking his nose, remember themselves chucking a pearl and feeling along Dream’s neck desperately for a pulse - everything beyond that became a swirl of voices and panic and crying that makes their head hurt to think about, so they don’t.

Recovery is…messy. The physical side had been bad enough - pulling Dream out of the cell, barely breathing, limp in his arms and far too light, all Punz could think about was a sheep he’d found a year ago, frail and struggling to breathe, one he’d ended up killing - quick and painless - with a sword through the skull because it seemed kinder than letting it suffer. Watching Dream struggle on the bed, laid up in Bad’s mansion because none of them knew if he’d survive going any further, body resisting the potions they’d slowly forced down his throat after being so over-saturated on them, temperature spiking and heat baking into his skin like the lava from the prison had been imprinted onto his body, Punz feels the same strange mixture of pity and unease, wonders if it’d be a hell of a lot kinder if they just put him out of his fucking misery.

Still, because Dream is a stubborn bastard, against all odds, he ends up surviving - his fever breaks, the potions begin taking effect, and a few tireless, aching days later his eyes flutter open, lucid for the first time in a week. Punz isn’t even in the room when he wakes, only knows that it happens because the too-quiet room suddenly erupts in noise and activity, muffled thumps and sounds of a struggle undercutting Bad’s frantic calls for someone to help, anyone, and they run into the room to find Dream thrashing on the bed, wounds reopened and blood dripping onto the sheets, eyes wild and wide as his head whips from side to side so hard Punz is half-afraid that he’ll straight up break his neck. Somehow, worst of all, not a single scream falls from his lips, nothing but muffled whines squeezing past his mouth, clenched shut, and for a singular, awful second they wonder how long it took before he realized that screaming was useless.

Fortunately enough for them, or unfortunately, it’s not like he can tell the fucking difference anymore, the panic and strain end up with Dream passing out altogether, and they trade uneasy glances with Bad before going to clean off the worst of his wounds. If everything they’re doing feels hopeless, dressing up wounds that’ll be torn open hours later when Dream is awake enough to feel fear but not much else because he’s forgotten what it’s like to not be afraid - well, that’s for them to think and everyone else to pretend not to agree with.

Weeks pass along the same vein - Dream wakes up, panics; they try to calm him down, fails; he falls back into unconsciousness, and they move on and pretend that they’re cleaning up wounds from battle and not from someone that’s literally been tortured for months on end. People stop by, occasionally; Puffy spends more time than not inside the mansion, but hardly ever enters the door into Dream’s room, Sapnap and George drop by occasionally with potion brewing supplies that the rest of them can’t go out to get; once, he’d gone out to the front door to find a chest with an enchanted golden apple, sender nowhere in sight. He knows that the server is busy; Quackity’s admission had brought more than a few secrets to light, and from what they understand, the political fallout has been pretty damn messy. Still, he stays in the mansion, and watches.

He doesn’t exactly know why he stays. They’re not a stellar healer, not beyond what they know to dress their own wounds, and spend most of their time doing odd-and-ends tasks for Bad, who looks more tired than ever. Maybe it’s because he’s seen Dream at his worst more than the rest of them, had been there through his entire fall from grace, watched as his eyes became clouded with anger and madness and a single, desperate hope that he’d chased at the cost of his world and himself. Maybe it’s because they have no ties to the rest of the server - not to Las Nevadas, falling apart under the scrutiny of the eyes that now fall upon it, not Snowchester, caught up in the chaos, not the Badlands, half-dissolved after the fiasco of the Egg and with Sam’s actions having just come to light. Maybe it’s because above everything else, he feels guilty.

They’d thought the prison was the answer. It’d seemed too simple, back in that Vault - a perfect answer, because everyone else was perfectly happy to watch Dream die another time and some part of them had clenched painfully at the thought even thought they knew it was for the best. The prison meant that he’d be alive, if angry, and at some point when he had the time or the nerve or the guts he could go and visit, and they would talk, and Dream would be angry but with time maybe he could even understand.

They hadn’t wanted this. He can’t imagine anyone wanting this.

“Punz?” They don’t jump at the voice at their back, they don’t, but Bad still has a tiny, tight-lipped smile when they turn around anyway, eyes creased in the corners and still not as bright as they’d been before the Egg. Bad looks at him knowingly, setting a bowl of soup into his hands. “For Dream, if you can get him to eat.” He shifts a pointed gaze towards the door. “Maybe you two could talk.”

“About what?” The words come out harsher than they intend, and they take a moment to bite back the mostly self-directed anger that Bad doesn’t deserve to receive the brunt of. “I just-” he waves his hand in the air, trying to articulate the mess that is his relationship with Dream without the words to explain it. “I don’t know, man.”

“You don’t have to talk about everything,” Bad says, calm as always, eyes flicking down to the bowl of soup in his hands. “Just start with the soup.”

Punz sighs. “I’ll try.”

He enters the room in a single, fluid motion, mostly because he knows that if he were to stop at the door then he’d never actually make his way in. Dream flinches back when they enter, eyes going wide and stance going rigid, and the familiarity doesn’t make the sight any easier to bear as they wait, as always, for Dream’s eyes to clear enough for him to realize he’s in the mansion and not stuck in that same obsidian hellhole.

“I brought soup,” they say, finally, when Dream looks up. Dream’s lips twitch up in what he probably means as a smile; between the still-healing gashes on his face and the fear that flashes over his expression, still, it comes out as more of a grimace.

“Thanks.” Dream looks away. “I’ll eat it later.”

Liar, Punz thinks tiredly, moving closer to set the bowl down on the nightstand by the bed. They frown as Dream’s expression goes slack and distanced, again, eyes fixed to stare blankly at the wall once again.

“You should have some now,” he tries, careful to keep his words even. “You need the calories.”

“I’m good,” Dream says, automatic, just shy of sincere. “Thank you.”

“Dream,” they don’t quite succeed at keeping a displeased sigh from falling from their lungs, and bite back a curse at themselves when Dream pulls back with a silent flinch. It’s so goddamn hard, to talk to this version of Dream, both of them feeling around the edges of their relationship like walking on goddamn eggshells. A few months ago, he would’ve straight up called Dream out on his bullshit, get it through his thick skull that the whole ‘I’m fine and don’t need anyone’ act was stupid and completely failing to convince him. Here, they bite back another sigh, look forlornly at the bowl of the soup on the nightstand, sure to go uneaten once again, and force themselves to sound completely neutral when they speak again. “Alright. You’ll have to eat at some point, though.”

“Mmhm,” Dream hums noncommittally, once again staring at the wall. Punz stares at his hands. This is so fucking pointless.

“So,” they say after a few seconds, Bad’s words echoing in their head - they can try to make an effort to talk, sure. It’s just that Dream’s not going to cooperate. “How are you, man?”

The words come out stilted, awkward. He looks up to watch Dream’s expression, as the other man begins to gnaw on the inside of his cheek.

“I’m good,” he says, words deliberately light. “You?”

“Dream…”

“I’m fine.” Dream’s voice sharpens suddenly, breath hitching, before he shakes his head and turns his head away. “I’m fine.”

Punz looks at him incredulously. “Are you serious? Do we need to get into exactly how not-fine you are?” They wave a hand in his direction, jaw clenching when he rears back. “Do ‘fine’ people lose their minds from someone waving at them, now?”

“I-” For a second, Dream glares at him, eyes burning with a familiar, irritated fire that Punz knows all-too-well from having it directed at him a few too many times, before it suddenly dies and Dream is swinging his head back to the bedsheets, hands tightening on the cloth as he stammers. “I- What do you want?”

Punz breathes a soft sigh, regret blooming in the center of their chest. “Sorry,” he mumbles, careful to keep their gestures overly-telegraphed and away from the other man’s face. “I’m just- you’re not okay, man. No one’s expecting you to be okay after...all of that.”

“But why?”

Dream’s voice is small, nearly a sob, and Punz directs wide, alarmed eyes to where he’s hunched in over himself, knees pulled to his chest, hands staring at the sheets pulled over them. “Why?” he says, again, quieter, lip trembling slightly.

“Because you were tortured,” Punz begins, words slow as they watch Dream’s expression, trying to pull out the thoughts behind his averted eyes, “Because the cell was inhumane, and nobody deserves to be treated like that. Because you were hurt very, very badly because of what we did, and none of us are expecting you to be fine right after going through months of trauma.” He pauses. “You know that, right?”

“But I’m out,” Dream says, quiet, disbelieving, instead of answering their question. “I’m out of there. It’s over. It’s- everything’s good,” he whispers, more to himself than to them, hands curling into fists and then uncurling. “I’m- they said I would never get out. And I’m outside, and it’s not- not the cell, and I get real food, and Quackity doesn’t visit anymore,” he shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut as his breath catches in his throat. “I’m happy- I should be happy. Right?”

“Oh Dream,” the other man flinches back, breath quickening, and Punz’s hand stops short from where he’d almost let it fall onto the other’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be happy, man. Not- not after all of that. Not if you’re not ready yet.” Dream’s eyes, wide and wet, rise to look at their own, and they feel more than hear the soft, wounded noise that leaves their lips. “It’s ok to be hurt. It’s ok to be scared. No one’s blaming you, alright? No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

This, more than anything, seems to be the breaking point, because Dream collapses forward, hands flying up to pull at his tangled hair before Punz manages to ease them away and into his own hands, watching as he grips onto them until his knuckles go white. His breathing shudders, quiet, even his sobs muffled as to make as little noise as possible, and they murmur meaningless croons and hums as he cries into their chest.

“I wanna- I wanna be okay,” he hiccups, and Punz smooths his hair back behind their hand.

“I know,” he swallows around the lump that has risen in his own throat. “I’m sorry.”

#tw trauma #tw disordered eating #tw torture #tw abuse #tw blood #tw injuries #tw unhealthy coping mechanism #tw emotional distress #tw murder #tw animal death #tw dark content #tw unhealthy eating habits #-> my writing #my writing :D #my asks !!#-> my asks

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finn-ray-nal-beads · 3 years

Note

i seriously will not be able to stop thinking about your Daddy Clyde holy hell you write him so beautifully. ugh Daddy's so gritty and dirty and just the right amount of meannnn ugh i hate you and love you at the same time. that piece stressin' me tf out ugh i really n e e d more of it lmao

A/N: @ohdamnadamm AS PER YOUR REQUEST DARLIN’ I COOKED UP A FILTHY ASS FUCKIN’ NUGGET FROM THE INNER MECHANISMS OF MY MIND (AND THANKS TO @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather FOR HER DAD BOD FIC FOR THE LOVE OF PETE IM SO HARD FOR THAT AMAZING THOT, BLESS YOU ITS BEEN RUNNING THROUGH MY MIND FOR 48 HRS STRAIGHT AND IVE READ IT UPWARDS OF TWENTY TIMES) IM NOT SORRY IN THE SLIGHTEST. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT, SWEET BABE!

Warnings: Daddy kink, BJ’s, ball-sucking, choking, cumshots, cum eating, unprotected sex, dirty talk and LOTS OF IT, teasing, marking, breeding kink, hair pulling, scratching, just pure fuckin’ hot sweaty porn, no plot whatsoever, SMUT SMUT SMUT AND MORE FUCKIN’ CLYDE LOGAN SMUT.

The hot sun beat down in the small trailer located in the boonies of West Virginia, the AC had decided to take a shit early that mornin’, sendin’ your big bear to go to the Home Depot for some tools to fix it right up for his baby doll.

You sat, perched on the couch in nothin’ but your little pink thong, and laced up bralette, sweatin’ to high heaven as you waited for your tin foil knight to return and save the heat stroke you had been sufferin’ since damn near five in the mornin’.

“Jesus fuck,” you exhaled, rubbin’ more sweat off your soakin’ tits, pullin’ your hair into a sticky mess of a bun as you fanned yourself over the hot August fog that settled in the small quarters.

“I’m just fuckin’ parched as all hell,” gettin’ up from the couch, makin’ your way to the fridge to stick your head in the freezer for some relief, only to find your savin’ grace for the next twenty minutes or so, a box of red-white-n-blue rocket pops.

“Oh fuck me!” reachin’ for them as you tore the box open like a feral cat, rippin’ the packagin’ and shovin’ that popsicle into your gapin’ mouth, a moan emittin’ throughout the room as you savored the icy cold of the frozen delicacy.

Just then, the door shuffled open to let your hulk of a man in from the blisterin’ heat of the day, his white t-shirt stained in tit sweat, and his brimmed ball cap sweat covered too. He dropped the bag on the floor, airin’ out his shirt as he looked around for your pretty little figure.

“Baby girl?” concerned you weren’t in his line of sight, inchin’ towards the kitchen, “where ya at?” peerin’ around the partition to see the hottest thing he’d seen all damn day. You perched on the kitchen counter, tits completely sweat covered, legs spread open like a porn star, and a bomb pop slidin’ in and out of your perfect lips, the colored juices drippin’ down your chin into the valley of your chest as you eyeballed him from the livin’ room.

“What’s ma perty lil’ baby doin’ on the counter, huh?” movin’ over to you as he wiped his sweat covered face with his t-shirt, exposin’ his precious belly and shinin’ tits.

“Ya know it’s dangerous ta be on the counter like that baby doll,” panderin’ as he rubbed your soft thighs, bendin’ down to kiss and suck on the skin as you thrust the popsicle in and out of your mouth, not losin’ the slightest bit of eye contact, “wouldn’t want daddy’s precious baby girl ta get herself hurt, now, would we?” ghostin’ his lips over your succulent and swollen cunt.

“Mhmm,” whinin’ out at his touches on your sensitive skin, forcin’ the treat down your open throat even more, “‘m sorry daddy,” moanin’ as he lifted his head to smirk at your fuck me face.

“I don’t think yer sorry in the slightest darlin’,” gigglin’ as he stood to his full height, leanin’ in to grip the empty stick from your mouth, tossin’ it on the floor, “I think ya like bein’ a lil’ brat, don’t ya baby girl?” tiltin’ your chin to meet his searin’ gaze as he pushed his lips onto yours, sighin’ as he pulled you flush to him, inhalin’ your sweet scent as the kiss deepened.

“Ya know what kinda punishment lil’ brats get?” he pulled away, grippin’ your hair to wrench your head back up to his, suckin’ marks on your neck as he gathered you in his huge arms.

“No, daddy, I don’t,” bitin’ your lip at the pain of his ministrations on your pulse, “p-please tell me what I get,” moanin’ as he pulled your hair tighter and tighter.

Liftin’ his head back up, starin’ into your eyes, “get off the damn counter and assume yer position in front a the couch baby girl,” lettin’ go of your head as he watched you slide down off your perch to slink into the livin’ room, your ass red from the duration of your stay on the linoleum lined top as he watched it sway with your hips, completely entranced.

“Like this daddy?” bendin’ down on your knees, as he slid himself in front of the lip of the couch to gaze at your pretty little face beggin’ to be fucked. Your hands behind your back, head cocked up to meet his stare, tits pushed out, nipples peaked, and your vision on him and him only.

“Stick that lil’ tongue out baby girl,” fumblin’ with his belt and zipper as he watched you present the organ as requested, “daddy wanna see his lil’ cumbucket,” releasin’ his half hardened cock to sit on the couch like the king he was. He reached his hand to pull on the appendage, a moan emittin’ from your throat as he motioned you closer with it.

“Yer gonna suck ma cock until yer cryin’ for air baby girl,” musin’ as you lowered your face to his large balls, nuzzlin’ your nose in the softness and musk envelopin’ them in his aura.

“Yes, daddy,” whisperin’ as you pecked tiny kisses on them, “I wanna be a good girl fer you,” lickin’ the skin like a kitten.

“Mhmm,” he moaned out, his balls twitchin’ at your movements on them, “yer such a good girl fer yer daddy,” praisin’ as you sucked one into your mouth, tuggin’ on the skin and rollin’ your tongue around the sac.

“Mmm, ya taste so good daddy,” movin’ to the other testicle to mimic the motions just as good as the other, savorin’ his manly scent as you made out with his scrotum, his cock wavin’ like a flag in the sky as you tugged on the other ball.

“G-god d-damn,” he cooed, grippin’ your head to lift you up from his sac, “that’s enough a that baby girl,” lust blown as he rubbed the sides of your temples, causing your eyes to roll back in your head as he lowered your lips to his weepin’ tip.

“Now yer gonna take this cock baby girl,” gazin’ at the sight of you foamin’ at the mouth under his larger than life dick, “go on ‘n suck yer daddy,” shovin’ your perfect little mouth onto his achin’ dick, revelin’ in the gaggin’ sounds you made as he pushed your head completely down on him.

“Open up fer me baby girl,” gaspin’ as your jaw went slack over his throbbin’ cock, “there ya go darlin’,” praisin’ as you sped up your sloppy gyrations on him.

“S-such a p-perty lil’ cumbucket,” watchin’ as the spit fell in globs on his jeans, and the tears spilled from your eyes over his girth, “what a g-good baby girl daddy has,” throwin’ his head back in pleasure as you sucked your cheeks in, rollin’ your tongue on the underside of his veiny dick.

“Daddy’s gettin’ close baby girl,” he panted out as you adjusted your angle to hit your uvula just the right way, causin’ an animalistic moan to reverberate on the thin walls of the trailer.

“I-I’m,” shovin’ your head off his cock, causin’ a huge gasp for air to leave your lips and wide eyes to meet your man as he palmed his red angry cock in his hand.

“Open yer perty mouth baby girl!” growlin’ out as the largest stream of semen you’d ever seen squirt from his head, landin’ on your tongue, tits, and chin.

“Motherfuck-k,” he palmed himself until the last of it landed on your skin, takin’ huge deep breaths as he let go of his limp cock, “ya alright baby girl?” watchin’ the color return to your face as you sucked up his spend from your face.

“I’m just fine daddy,” crawlin’ on to his lap, thighs on either side of him as you nestled your covered pussy on his still throbbin’ cock.

“Ya such a good girl fer me,” pettin’ your arms as you gripped the back of his head, leanin’ in for a steamy kiss as you gyrated your hips on him.

“Mhmm,” he chuckled, “does ma sweet baby need somethin’ from her daddy?” watchin’ as you bat your eyelashes at him, “use yer words darlin’,” he pandered once again, bringin’ a thumb to tug at your bottom lip.

“I need ya to fuck me, daddy,” bringin’ the digit into your mouth as you moved again on his dick, the hardness comin’ back in a wave at your friction, “please, I’ve been a good girl fer you,” suckin’ on it like a pacifier.

“Ya right baby girl,” he cooed, “I can’t say no to yer sweet lil’ pussy anyways,” watchin’ as you lifted your hips to line his cock up with your achin’ slit, rubbin’ your built-up slick around on the head. Pushin’ your hips slowly down on his length, swallowin’ every single inch like the popsicle you’d been devourin’ minutes prior.

“G-good god darlin’,” breath hitchin’ as he took in your tight walls clenchin’ on his cock, “ya so damn tight, no matter how many times yer daddy fucks ya,” musin’ as you started your little dance on his lap.

Hips in a death grip by his flesh and blood hand and his metal one as you gyrated your body, tits bouncin’ in his face, sweat buildin’ up in the heat of the trailer as skin slappin’ emitted through every room in the house.

“F-fuck big bear!” you cried out, feelin’ his head pokin’ your cervix with every thrust he was makin’ upwards, completely sendin’ you into another dimension of pleasure, “ya stretch me out so damn good daddy!” moanin’ into every knock he made on your open womb.

“Ya gonna cum on daddy’s big cock baby girl?” watchin’ your mouth gape open as your tits fall out of the sorry excuse for a bra you’d chosen, “daddy wants ya ta cum so damn bad!” speedin’ his movements up until tears fell again from your face.

“Daddy!” grippin’ on his shoulders, drawin’ blood as he pummeled your hole with everything he had, “d-daddy I-I’m g-gon-,” the friction from his jeans rubbin’ your clit for him as you unraveled and released your sweet sticky spend on him.

“F-fuck!” cryin’ out in unrelentin’ waves of bliss as he rode you out to pound town.

“Such a perty baby girl,” musin’ as he thrust his cock in and out with more fervor, “daddy’s gettin’ close baby,” he praised once again, gritting his teeth as he set an ungodly speed on your overstimulated body.

“D-daddy’s c-close,” he grunted, thrustin’ in once more before unloadin’ his spend into your gapin’ slit, shovin’ it further a further as he kept thrustin’ into you.

“J-Jesus f-fuckin’ C-Christ,” hips still in his grip as it tightened from his orgasm, “ya feel s-so good darlin’,” stillin’ himself as you both gazed into each other, takin’ in the heat that had built over the last hour.

He brought you into an embrace, smellin’ your hair, as you pet his sweat covered back, kissin’ the moles on his shoulder and rubbin’ the scratches that had built up. After a few more seconds, you went to hop off him, only to be stilled back in your spot.

“Clyde, baby!” you looked at him, irritated and sweaty, “what the hell? It’s fuckin’ hot an’ I have ta pee,” tryin’ to pry his hands off your hips still.

“Nah baby girl,” he tsked, “yer gonna sit here with ma cum in your pussy for a minute,” musin’ and rubbin’ your lower belly, “I wanna make sure ya keep it nice n’ safe up there,” eyes dilatin’ as he watched your expression change too.

“Oh really?” movin’ a hand to slick his mop of hair back, “ya think this is gonna do the trick ta knock my ass up like ya want me ta be big bear?” gigglin’ as his toothy smile appeared as a result of your words.

“Well, it’s a damn start innit?” nuzzlin’ his cheek in your hand, “need ta make sure ma swimmers explore all parts a the cave darlin’,” chucklin’ as you rolled your eyes.

“Yer lucky yer the cutest thing on the planet,” softenin’ at his precious face restin’ in your fingers, “that jus’ makes me wanna have as many babies as possible so they get yer perty lil’ features,” rubbin’ his cheek as a tear welled up in his eyes.

“I ain’t as precious as you are baby girl,” rubbin’ more little circles on your lower tummy, “I can’t wait ta see the perfect lil’ ones we do make,” the wetness rollin’ out of his eyes as he thought about a little Logan joinin’ the trailer.

“Oh shit!” he jolted, scarin’ the crap out of you as you stood up, “I totally fuckin’ forgot!” he jumped up from the couch.

“Forgot what big bear!” clutchin’ your chest as you crossed your legs to avoid the liquid from fallin’ out of your bladder and your pussy.

“I have ta fix the fuckin’ AC!”

_____________

IN CONCLUSION,

🖤,

ray-nal-beads

#tw: daddy kink #tw: choking #tw: breeding kink #pure smut #clyde logan smut #clyde is daddy #clyde and his horsecock #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan #clyde logan x you #clyde logan x female reader #tw: unprotected sex

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beyoncesdragon · 4 years

Text

title: mad sus

→Pairing: Mark Tuan x Reader (Mark Tuan x Gender-Neutral!Reader )

→Summary: “And where even is Mark, if you’re playing.” Mark leaned forwards, a grin on his handsome features. “Under your bed, Jae.”

→Warnings: this is pure, tooth rotting fluff for our Markie. All I have to warn is probably Jae being Jae, and Mark being in boyfriend-mode which could probably kill on itself.

→Wordcount: 1.1k

a/n: Written for my sister in law and ally in the universal simpcomititty for all kinds of groups @bbymrk Also I dont know if that is what you wanted or if you...like it? Have some cuddles from me and my brother lmao I mean Mark.

Masterlist | GOT7 Masterlist

“Who would do such a thing?” a female voice whined, just as you entered the room.

“Is this a self-report? Mark asked sarcastically, leaned back on his chair with his hood up. The room was darkened and all light came from the flickering light of his desktop.

“No. I swear I didn’t do it.” That was Tina, you recognized that.

You stood in the door for a few seconds, listening to the familiar voices of your boyfriend and his friends banter about something, occasional laughs breaking up several little arguments. The room smelled like him and freshly brewed green tea, something Mark had started to drink after - what you concluded - spending too much time with Jackson and a tiny bit like that one perfume he always stole from you, bergamot and sandalwood.

Just when you decided to leave him in peace and find something else to do, he turned around, a smile lighting up his face instantly. Without sparing his desktop a second glance, he rolled a few inches back with his chair and motioned you to come closer, extending his arms towards you with a small smile.

“Hi there…slept well?” he asked, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist to look up at you, chin resting against your tummy. You nodded, carefully pushing his hood back to run your fingers through his hair.

“I did. You?” he just nodded, lowering the volume of the heated discussion that was unfolding itself over the game of Among Us he had neglected for you, before turning his attention back to you.

“Are you streaming?” he shook his head, linking his fingers behind you again, pulling you a bit closer so you’d stand between his legs.

“No, not this time. But I think Tina, Jade and Jae definitely are…” your eyes wandered to the screen, over the bunch of names that were listed up. It only took Jae a split second to yell through the speakers, having picked up on your conversation.

Obviously he did.

“I heard my name, Mark.” Mark opened his mouth to reply but you shushed him with a finger against his lips and leaned closer to the mic.

“Hello to you too, Jae.”

It was quiet for a second. “Huh…o-oh hi there. Sorry, I thought for a moment Mark was going through puberty again. Fancy hearing you.” Your laughter mixed with the rest of the players, and Mark huffed, before pulling you onto his lap. “Dipshit.” was all that came from your boyfriend, mumbled into the skin of your neck before he scooted closer to the desk again.

“Everyone vote for Mark, he cursed at me.” Jae immediately announced and Mark gasped.

“I’ll be under your bed tonight, if you do that.” Mark grumbled, causing everyone to laugh. “If that’s the case, please, everyone vote for him.” Mark just buried his face in the crook of your neck, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

“I hate him.” you just hummed amused, pushing his fingers off the controls swiftly, to place your own on them. Mark let you do it without any hesitation, instead settling his arms fully around you, with his hands in the front pocket of the sweater you wore.

“Stop thirsting over my boyfriend Jae, we all know who you want to have waiting under your bed, no need to lie.”

“If you say Wonpil now, I will quit this whole game.” You snickered softly, feeling Mark smile against your skin. “Getting nervous there, Park?” you shifted comfortably on your boyfriends lap, momentarily turning around to him, just to press a kiss against his lips. Tina giggled through the speakers and Jae huffed, annoyed at your effortless (and obviously successful) attempt to flip the whole conversation around.

“Anyway, let’s skip voting for this time, there is no time left.” The voice of none else than Bambam proposed, making you snap up.

“Bambam?!” a chuckle could be heard, a chuckle and probably huff number twenty six by Jae.

“Hi noona, everything alright?” you nodded eagerly, leaning closer to the mic in anticipation. “Yeah, all good! I haven’t heard from you in a while! Wait, which one are you?” your eyes wandered over the screen, looking for Bambam’s name. But none of the eight people in the game were even close to Bambam or Kunipmook, for that matter… “Wait are you called “Skrrrt?”, Bambam-ah? Oh dear…“ Marks laughter vibrated through your whole body and you couldn’t help but grin too. “Anways, how is your dog doing?”

This time, Jae sighed so loudly, the audio crackled.

“What is it, Jae?” Tina asked, taking pity in him. “It’s just…I feel so neglected.” You rolled your eyes amused, leaning back against Marks chest. “How is that?” Jade asked, joining the conversation now too.

“There are people who do not spare me second comment but ask after the well-being of a dog.” Mark laughed out loud at that before leaning forward a bit so he’d be heard properly. “Shut up and stop sulking Jae, the timer is running out.” And with that, the next round started. Mark let you do your thing, only tightened his arms around you from time to time, pressing several small kisses against your cheek and shoulder seeming a bit lost in his own world.

“By the way, that hoodie…?” your lips twisted into a small smile looking over your shoulder towards him. “Yes…?” he cleared his throat.

“Looks cool, where did you get it?” you laughed quietly, completing your mission successfully before fully turning around to him. “It is, right? It’s from this one brand wait… “XCIII Evolution” was the name. I know the designer, you know.” His smile sharpened at those words and he leaned towards you a bit. “And how is he?” you acted as if you had to really think about that question before answering.

“Ah he’s pretty cool. Hot guy, that’s for sure.” a small cocky grin settled on his face before he cuddled himself impossibly close to you. “I heard he has a pretty smooth-tongued partner too.” You laughed out loud. “Does he? How nice for him.” he hummed but before he could do anything more (like kiss you, finally) the game came to a halt due to someone calling an emergency meeting.

“Mark is mad sus. Mad.” that was the first thing that could be heard and you gasped in offense, snapping around. “Wait what? Just so you know, I am currently playing for him and how am I sus in any way? I literally just completed my mission!” Jade laughed and Bambam whistled through the speakers.

“You literally just stood there for like five minutes, not moving at all. What in the heavens was that?”

You clicked your tongue impatiently. “I was talking to my boyfriend, Jae, and I like to look at him when I do so.” Jae snorted unbelieving. “Lies over lies. Unless you have to walk into the kitchen to get some food, suspicious mid-movement frozen-ness is not allowed. And where even is Mark, if you’re playing.” Mark leaned forwards, a grin on his handsome features.

“Under your bed, Jae.”

— ✩ thank u for reading ✩ —

#mark tuan #got7 mark #mark tuan x reader #mark tuan x you #mark tuan x y/n #mark tuan fanfic #mark tuan fluff #got7 imagines #got7 fanfic #got7 x reader #got7 x gender neutral reader #got7 x y/n #got7 x you #mark tuan x gender neutral reader #reader insert #imagines #kpop imagines #idol x reader

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darwindrawz · 3 years

Text

GTFO Team 729 AU fic (no one should read this except Sky)

@skyllion-uwu here it is, sorry it took me so long to figure out how to get it here lmao

Some notes:

- if you are not Sky, please save me the embarrassment and don’t read this. If you do read this, don’t make fun of me for it.

-Tore is Italian-American and has extreme anger issues, Bright is a stuck up ex-spy German asshole, and they both hate each other (at least at first).

-The team is currently trying to find a way to a lab on the upper levels to retrieve a dna sample, but Tore insisted on navigating even though Bright is the scout and he got them lost. Bright then took the map files from him to prevent any further confusion, and they are still fighting about this.

Warnings: lots of swearing, some light angst, Flea being too pure for this world (or the gtfo world I guess)

——————————————————>>

The crackling of the team’s campfire nearly drowned out the screams of sleepers behind a nearby wall, but not enough to put Flea at ease.

He kept one hand on his gun, careful not to let the others see, lest they find out he wasn’t as tough as they all thought he was.

“I’m tellin you, we’ve been headin the wrong way for days now! We’ll never find our way outta this shithole if you don’t fuckin give me the map files!”

He rolled his eyes under his helmet. Tore and Bright were arguing again. Not that it was anything unusual; they were all under stress, and it didn’t help the two’s ongoing feud to be trapped in the same seemingly endless hallway for four days.

“Oh of course, because you know what you’re doing more than any of us do.” Bright snapped back. “Get a grip. You’re acting as immature as that mangy little kid.”

Flea perked up at that. Where was the kid, anyway? He had seen them while they were setting up camp, but now that they had a fire going it seemed that he had skulked off somewhere in the darkness surrounding them.

He stood up, eliciting a glance from Tore and Bright but no questions. “I’m gonna go find...” he trailed off as he realized neither of them were listening, his deep voice muffled by the sound of them chewing each other’s heads off.

“My fuckin rank is “tech”, dumbass! What do you think that means? THAT I’M IN CHARGE OF THE TECH.”

“Ach, verpiss dich!”

“CHE NE DICI DI FOTTERTI?!”

Flea sighed, picking up his gun and stepping into the shadows. Idiots. And he was supposed to be the big strong dumb one.

It wasn’t long before he heard Teeth’s raspy breathing coming from somewhere up ahead in the dingy hallway. Knowing better than to call out to him, he pulled out his flashlight and clicked it on and off several times, shining it at the opposite wall.

There was a pause, and then Flea heard the sound of hurried footsteps coming toward him. Just in case, he put a finger on the trigger of his combat rifle.

“Flea?”

Flea felt his shoulders relax as the kid came into view, holding his helmet in one hand and a nutrient block in the other.

“Hey kid. What’re you doing out here? It’s not safe.” He asked, lowering his flashlight as he realized it was shining directly in Teeth’s eyes.

He barked a gravelly laugh, his sharp teeth exposed. “This whole PLACE isn’t safe. Here is just extra not safe.”

Flea chuckled, shaking his head. Weird kid.

“What are you doing out here?” Teeth asked, spreading his scrawny arms to gesture at the dark hallway.

Flea sighed. “Tore and Bright are-“

“Fighting again.” Teeth groaned dramatically. “Yeah, yeah. What else is new.”

Flea smiled. “Yeah.”

“Hey!” Teeth exclaimed suddenly, making Flea jump. “You wanna see something cool?”

“Uh... sure? Whoah!” He yelled as Teeth grabbed his arm, dragging him into the dark shadow he had come out of at as fast of a pace as he was able.

Well, technically Teeth wasn’t dragging him. Flea was letting himself be dragged by someone half his height, mostly out of confusion and amusement.

Flea couldn’t tell where they were going, but before long he knew they had walked further than he and the others had scouted. The hall looked unfamiliar here, and the screams of sleepers gradually became distant and hushed.

Suddenly, after what Flea judged to be around 20 minutes of stumbling through the dark, Teeth stopped, bouncing on his toes as he grinned up at Flea. “TADA!”

Flea frowned confusedly, looking around. As far as he could see, there was nothing but a dark, empty, grey room with a large pile of old rubble in the center where the ceiling had caved in.

Even if there was nothing, at least there weren’t any sleepers.

He grunted as he felt Teeth’s sharp elbow dig into his side. “No, you big dummy! Up there!”

Flea followed his friend’s gaze, squinting against the light.

Wait, light?

“How...” he murmured in awe and confusion.

Teeth beamed. “Isn’t it great? And it’s MINE, cause I found it. If you climb on top, you can even see the sky-shiners!”

Flea looked down, confused. “Sky-shiners..?”

Teeth nodded vigorously. “Yeah! C’mere, lemme show you!” He said, grabbing Flea’s arm again and “dragging” him up the pile of concrete chunks and metal.

He let go of him once they had reached the summit of the tiny mountain, practically shaking with excitement as he pointed at the hole in the ceiling where the shaft of pale light streamed in. “There! Look!”

Flea took off his helmet, breathing in the fresh air that had somehow, miraculously, found its way to them. He looked up, his mouth falling open in awe as he looked from Teeth to the night sky above them. They must have gotten so lost they somehow ended up in one of the upper levels.

Which explained a lot. Tore had the sense of direction of a blind cow.

“That’s somethin else.” He smiled, feeling peace for the first time in days uncountable as he observed what Teeth had called the “sky-shiners”.

Stars. He means the stars. Poor kid probably either has never seen em, or doesn’t remember what they are.

He glanced at Teeth, who was squinting at the light with a look of pure, unfettered joy on his face. “How’d you find this place?”

Teeth’s face fell and he hesitated, shrugging. “I dunno.” He mumbled. “Just sorta bumped into it I guess.”

Flea raised an eyebrow. “You just happened to bump into a room half a mile away from camp?”

Teeth squirmed under his gaze, picking at the scar that ran across his face without giving an answer.

“Teeth...”

“Alright fine!” Teeth gave in, sighing as he plopped down on the rubble pile cross-legged. “I was tryin to run away, but I got distracted.”

Flea’s eyes widened in surprise. “Run away? To where???”

Teeth shot him a look. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead, ok?!”

Flea stared at him, half in shock and half in sadness that Teeth would just run off like that. They were friends, so he had thought.

He sat down next to him, thinking for a moment before speaking again.

“Why’d you wanna run away?”

Teeth glanced at him. “You wouldn’t get it.”

He scoffed, smiling gently. “Try me, kid.”

His friend sighed, planting his chin in his hands as he stared at the sliver of navy sky above them. “I... I guess I just got sick of it all. Y’know, Tore and Bright fighting, non being able to spit without hitting a sleeper, bein scared all the time... d’you not get tired of all that shit sometimes?”

Flea paused, thinking about his answer. “I do... but we have no other choice. We do what the Warden says, or we’re not around to receive it’s orders. And... even if Tore and Bright are a bit much sometimes, they’re all we’ve got, y’know? You’re all I’ve got. I can’t just give that up.” He finished, smiling passively at the sky.

Teeth was silent for a while, before he burst out laughing. “Wow.” He said in between cackles. “You’re a big cheesy idiot, y’know that?”

Flea laughed. “Maybe. That’s just my opinion though.”

They both went silent for a while, before finally Teeth spoke again in a quieter voice.

“Flea.”

“Mm.”

“D’you think I’m a mutt?”

Flea looked at him confusedly. “What?”

Teeth shrugged, chewing at one of his fingernails. “I dunno. Bright and Tore talk ugly. They say I’m some kinda animal.“

He raised his eyebrows, making a mental note to pound the others into a bloody paste later. “That’s just stupid.”

“Nah. Maybe they’re right. I only got one brain cell, according to Bright. Whatever that means.” He said, flopping down onto his back with a sigh.

“Kid, that’s not true. You might be a little... charismatic at times, but you’re not a mutt. Tore and Bright are the ones with only one brain cell. Whatever that means.” Flea added, smiling at him.

Teeth sniffed. “You’re pretty cool, Flea. Maybe I’ll stick around a while, since you’re not goin nowhere. Besides, how am I gonna prove I got uh... a lotta brain cells if I never see the others again?”

He laughed. “That’s a good point. Maybe you’ll even teach them a thing or two.”

“Yeah.” Teeth grinned.

“Do you want to go back to camp now?”

“Depends. D’you think they’ll be done fighting?” He shrugged.

Flea laughed. “Heh. Never. Maybe they’ll have their panties in less of a twist, though.”

Teeth stood up, dusting off his hands. “Well c’mon then. I got places to be, the team’s not gonna annoy itself.” He joked, looking at an imaginary watch on his wrist and cackling.

He smiled, standing and putting his helmet back on. “Lead the way.”

As his friend took off enthusiastically down the dark hallway, Flea turned and savored one last glimpse of the moon. He missed it; being on the surface. The fresh air, and trees, and no constant petrifying fear of whether or not you’d make it to the next day.

But as he followed Teeth down the twisting concrete passage, and heard the sound of Tore and Bright’s bickering accented voices begin to grow louder, he felt the longing and sadness drain from his weary body. They were his family now, and it was his job to keep them together. And if he was going to die in a dark, filthy, sleeper-ridden shithole, he was going to do it fighting for them.

“Where were you?” Bright asked impatiently, looking up as he and Teeth stepped back into the comforting circle of warmth around their fire.

Teeth snorted. “That’s real sweet, Bright. I didn’t expect you to notice we were gone.”

Flea shot him a silencing look. “We found a way forward.”

Teeth frowned. “We did?”

“Are you serious?” Bright asked, raising his eyebrows.

He nodded. “Teeth found a way to the upper levels. Just where we need to go to get to the labs.”

Bright turned to Teeth skeptically, looking him up and down. “This mutt found a way up that we couldn’t find in four days of scouting?”

“He’s not a mutt.” Flea growled, causing Bright to look back away with a frightened expression on his face. “And yes. Now are you two gonna sit here squawking like an old married couple, or are we going to get out of here?”

Bright glanced at Tores, who flipped him off briefly before nodding at Flea. “Sounds good to me. Let’s go.”

He looked down at his friend, who was shifting uncomfortably under the multitude of eyes locked on him. Flea patted him on the back, smiling even if Teeth couldn’t see it through his helmet. “You’re in charge, kid. Lead the way.”

Teeth grinned, puffing out his chest slightly as the power visibly went straight to his head. “Follow me, assholes!”

Bright and Tore reluctantly followed him as he took off sprinting down the hallway, nearly tripping several times in his excitement. Flea brought up the rear, stomping out their fire as he followed after them, smiling.

Back on the move again, and no sleepers chasing them this time. It looked like everything was going to be ok.

For now, at least.

#darwin said something #thanks for reading this if you got to the bottom!#I would love to hear what you think #I might start a sideblog for comics and stuff if it’s any good #gtfo #my ocs

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botanyshitposts · 4 years

Note

I don't know why but the anon response about the succulent dehydrator was like viscerally terrifying to me. The image of succulents desperately trying to root & grow as they are deprived of all their moisture in order to preserve their dessicated remains is probably something that'll stay with me for a long time. So thank you, you made me think heavily on a subject I have never given serious thought to before. I always loved succulents, but now their abilities seem a lot more fascinating to me.

i love those moments that remind you that plants are like, 1. real wild things with adaptations to live in a native habitat and 2. things that can give you a biological riddle to work with (in the case of apparent adaptations with unknown applications, or applications with unclear adaptations). i feel like every time i encounter one of these instances it makes me a better scientist, on top of just being kind of thrilling to figure out.

here’s another one i came across recently:

for my plant anatomy class, we all had to do an anatomical examination of an assigned plant from the biology greenhouse. i was assigned Aeschynanthus radicans, which has the common name ‘the lipstick plant’ (named for its flowers) and is a relatively popular houseplant.

A. radicans, along with the closely related species A. pulcher, are both native to southern Thailand and western malesia (’malesia’ referring to the broader biogeographical region used for applying to plants in the area, not ‘malaysia’ the country, although malesia the region does encompasses malaysia the country. yes i thought this was a misspelling in one of my sources at first and was confused). they’re most often reported along streams in evergreen forests, and usually are lithophytic or epiphytic (living among rocks or living on surrounding plants/trees in a non-parasitic way). they have a creeping growth form that, in houseplant formation, just kind of falls over the sides of a hanging basket.

a weird footnote with A. radicans and A. pulcher in terms of anatomy is the distinctive cells on their seeds. Aeschynanthus as a genus makes a ton of tiny seeds that look roughly like tan flax seeds with a long white hairs coming out either side. in A. radicans and A. pulcher and a couple of their relatives, they have what’s been termed as ‘bubble cells’, which is a formation of clear, inflated cells at one end (specifically the hilar end) of the seed itself, which tapers off into the long hair on that side. my main source called this ‘curious’ and mentioned it in exactly one sentence, but i actually got to see it for myself when looking at one of the seeds under a microscope in lab.

unfortunately i was focused on cutting open the seed itself and ended up cutting off the hairs at either side to make it fit on the slide easier, which meant that i also accidentally cut off the top part of the bubble cell cluster, but here’s what it looks like under a microscope:

(in the left pic you can actually see where my razor blade cut open a swath of the cells lmao, they just look like deflated bags above the intact ones….oops. also, quick side note, the main source i used that mentioned these cells is ‘A Revision of Aeschynanthus (Gesneriaceae) in Thailand’ by Middleton, 2007.)

anyway. so when i was presenting this i finished and my professor was like, ‘i’ve never heard of that bubble cell thing before, that’s pretty cool’ and then she asked me why i thought they were there. like what function i thought they were serving. and i had no idea? like again the paper that mentioned it was just like ‘huh that’s weird’ and i hadn’t put much thought into it other than ‘hee hee 🅱️ubble cell’ so i was like, ‘well maybe additional food/water storage, or just ornamentation?’.

and then she gave me her interpretation, which is that these plants are most commonly found living on trees and rocks, in a creeping growth form, next to streams. so a more solid hypothesis would be that these cells are used for floatation, or otherwise serve to increase the surface area to help disperse the seeds when they hit the water. like, something to help maintain surface tension.

anyway. that theory, although untested, fits very nicely and gave my three brain cells a whole 3 molecules of dopamine, standing up there with my presentation. like, let me tell you. what a rush

#its like house md but instead of saving people its like. incredibly trivial plant mysteries #gets you to think tho #like they're just adapting to survive like any other organisms on earth #asks #plont asks #plant anatomy #succulents #Anonymous

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babyboy-bangtan · 4 years

Photo

By Chance Chapters 1-4

A misunderstanding gone viral puts you on BTS's radar, which leads to a series of events that finally culminate with you meeting them for the first time.

✚ Pairing: Sub!BTS/Female Reader ✚ Word Count: 3.3K ✚ Rating: M ✚ Warnings: None for now. ✚ A/N: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Read on AO3

Chapter 1: Before

Beep. Beep. Beep.

No.

Beep beep beep. Beep beep beep.

Absolutely not.

Beep beep beep beep beep!

Jesus Christ, fine.

You groan and grab your phone from your bedside table, turning off the alarm. It's not possible or even logical, but you really feel the big 5:00 A.M. on your lock screen is making fun of you.

You really want to die.

As you take a deep breath and pull the covers off of you, you get angry at your own stupidity last night. You had no business staying up until 1 a.m. watching Netflix knowing very well you had to be on the makeup chair at 6, but you went and watched a show anyway.

Actually, no, scratch that. This is Netflix's fault. It's their fault for making it so that you want to binge their goddamn shows. You're merely a victim of a very successful streaming platform.

You should sue them.

Well, once you're done filming your movie for them, that is. Once you're done with the movie and the promotion for it you'll sue them for robbing you of your precious sleep, because that's unforgivable, despicable, heinous, wretched—

Before you can continue with your methodical planning of the lawsuit you're going to throw into Netflix's face for making you stay up late at night and then get up early to film their movie, your phone ringing pulls you out of your angry thoughts.

It's your stylist calling.

Right, you asked her to call you because you were not sure you weren't gonna sleep through the five alarms you set for this morning— but against all odds, you actually woke up with the first one.

"Good morning. I promise I'm up." You reassure her before she can say anything. "I'm gonna shower soon."

"That's fine." She laughs. "I'm just calling cause you told me to last night."

"I knoow." You drawl out. "I was worried I'd ignore the alarms. But I'm up. No worries."

"Alright then. See ya in a bit, dude."

"Byeeeeeee!" You say, throwing your phone into your bed after hanging up.

Your bed, the love of your life. So soft, so inviting, so beautiful and ready to keep you comfortable for as long as you need it to. Except you need to be sitting on the makeup chair at 6, so no more bed for today. You take a deep breath and walk to the bathroom, as ready as you can be to star the day after only getting 4 hours of sleep.

"Good morning Timmy." You greet your costar with a kiss on the cheek.

"Good morning to you too." He says, biting back a smile. "You didn't sleep well, did you?"

"I have a right to remain silent." You reply, taking a sip of your coffee before walking past him. He catches up to you quickly. "Did you sleep well?"

"I got up at 5 a.m. so, of course not." He says, rolling his eyes at you. "I got like 5 hours of sleep only."

"Ha!" You say, stopping as you grip the handle of the makeup trailer's door. "I slept 4. I win."

Once you're both on your makeup chairs, you laugh as quietly as you can when you notice Timotheé dozing off while his hair is brushed, and you grab your phone to distract yourself. You can't really sleep when you're sitting up even if the fact that your stylist is working on your hair is really relaxing you, so you might as well try to get a bit more awake than you are now.

While you're telling her about the interesting article you just read, your phone vibrates in your hand, interrupting you. You quickly open the text when you see is from one of your friends, thinking that if she messaged you at 6 a.m. then it must be something important.

Or... maybe not. What you got instead of an important text is what you're pretty sure is a screencap of a Buzzfeed headline.

DID [Y/N] REALLY MEET BTS WITHOUT ANYONE OF US KNOWING?

You absolutely did not. You'd definitely remember meeting the most famous boy band in the world.

You quickly type a response.

Lmao no I didn't What's that about?

It only takes her a moment to reply.

It's just clickbait but it's like a thing right now People went nuts thinking you'd met BTS Because someone uploaded a video to youtube called [Y/N] BTS But it was just a behind the scenes video But then this tweet went viral

She then sends you another screencap, this time of a tweet with over 100k likes that's quoting another tweet with a video you recognize as the behind the scenes video you filmed for your last movie.

When you think [Y/N] met BTS but the BTS actually stands for Behind The Scenes 🤡

You actually laugh at that.

😂😂😂 my god Thanks for keeping me up to date with news about myself

She quickly responds.

No prob, Bob. Also you were trending on Twitter on #1 and #2 because of it Now you're like below the 7th but i got proof

She then sends you another picture, this time of the trending topics list. There it is at number 1, "[Y/N] BTS" and at number 2 is just your name. Below that one it's BTS alone.

As far as you know, BTS and kpop fans have the power to make anything trend on Twitter, so you're not that surprised to see they got you trending because they thought you'd met them. You're a bit surprised about the fact that it was over a complete misunderstanding, but stranger things have gone viral in the past and they will continue to do so in the future.

You wish your friend good luck at work today before you start telling your stylist about what just happened, and she just rolls her eyes and complains about people making news out of literally nothing nowadays. You agree completely— this isn't even the first time you are trending on twitter because of something silly— so you just drop the subject and go back to talking to her about the article you read. However, the thought of meeting BTS stays at the back of your mind for some reason.

You've only heard a couple of their most popular songs, which were admittedly very good and enjoyable, but you'd be lying if you didn't admit you'd love to meet them soon. They're huge right now, and even though you wouldn't call yourself a fan considering you don't even know all their names, you still recognize how incredible their journey has been and how talented they are.

Well, that and the tiny detail that every single one of them is absolutely stunning.

Chapter 2: Jungkook

"Who's [Y/N]?" Jungkook asks suddenly with a little frown as he sits on the floor after dance practice, scrolling through his phone. He's sure he has heard your name before, but he doesn't really know anything about you.

"Uhh... isn't she an American actress?" Namjoon replies, downing half of his water bottle. "I think I saw one of her movies. A period drama. She's pretty good." He pauses. "Why?"

"[Y/N] BTS is trending on Twitter." He replies, reading through some of the most popular tweets about it. "Apparently there was a misunderstanding with a video." He shrugs, opening the video in question.

It's you wearing one of those 19th century dresses, but the effect is lost because the fact that you're wearing a modern coat and sunglasses. If he understood you correctly over the awful sound quality, you were on the first day of shooting.

"What are you watching?" Hoseok asks, standing behind him.

"The video people thought was of her with us. It's a behind the scenes video of her movie." He replies absent-mindedly, focused on his phone. "I think it's from the one you watched, Hyung." He tells Namjoon, looking up at him.

You seem to be at a dance practice now, with who he assumes was your costar. It looks like some kind of waltz, and you both seem to be already good at it— there's no way this is the first time you're rehearsing it. Suddenly, the man flips you around gracefully and presses his front to your back in what Jungkook assumes was meant to be an intimate moment, but only a second later you start twerking and then everyone is laughing.

Him, too.

"Come on, we have to go." Hoseok says, tapping his shoulder.

"I'm coming." Jungkook replies, still watching the video even as he stands up. "She's funny." He says to the rest, occasionally looking up to make sure he doesn't run into a wall.

"What did you say happened with her?" Jimin asks, massaging his shoulder with a grimace.

"Apparently someone uploaded a behind the scenes video of one of her movies but since it said BTS people thought it was about her meeting us."

If Jimin— or anyone else for that matter— cared about his response, Jungkook didn't realize. He clicks on the next suggested video and keeps watching, not paying attention to anyone else. It's during his viewing of that video that Jungkook decides he'll watch the movie Namjoon mentioned as soon as he gets free time to do so, and then he'll see what other movies you've done to see if anything interests him.

The fact that you're beautiful and when you smile his tummy feels tingly has absolutely nothing to do with that decision.

Chapter 3: Jimin

The thought of the video Jungkook mentioned at dance practice comes back to Jimin all of a sudden late at night, when his mind is restless and the painkillers haven't eased the ache of his shoulder just yet. He can't sleep, so he might as well distract himself a little until they kick in.

He doesn't remember your name correctly; he misspells it several times until he just searches "Actress behind the scenes video mistaken bts band" and several recent articles appear.

[Y/N], that's right. That was your name. The names he'd been trying weren't even remotely similar.

He opens one article just for the sake of it— it's a very clickbait-y one, but he figures it's likely all of them will be— and starts reading an unnecessary long version of what happened. The gist of the article is what Jungkook already said: people confused a behind the scenes video of your movie with a video that involved them, and it went viral.

There are other suggested articles about you at the end of the one he just read, and one specifically catches his attention.

"[Y/N] gets bold on new Vogue Magazine interview: 'Gender roles are such bulls**t.'"

He quickly opens the original article instead of the mess he's sure is the one on the clickbait site, and he can't hold back a gasp at the picture of you that appears in front of him.

He figures he shouldn't be surprised considering what year it is and how normal it is to see women in suits nowadays, but he can't help but get his breath taken away when he sees a woman wearing one. He doesn't know what it is, and it's not really every suit on every woman that does it either— but the one you're wearing on that photo definitely fits the bill.

Your hair is purposefully messy— the kind of messy that can only be achieved by having a hair stylist work on you for a considerable amount of time, he knows that very well— and your face is covered in natural-looking makeup.

Except for your eyes. They did a beautiful job with them.

You are most certainly not wearing a bra and he knows that the fact that it's just noticeable enough is also very intentional, and there's something about the pose you're doing that is making his palms sweat.

Chin tilted up.

Eyes half lidded, looking down.

Mouth slightly open.

White dress shirt, with just two buttons undone.

He almost wishes you'd gone for another one as well, so your cleavage would be visible.

Almost.

The picture is perfect as it is. Can't be improved by anything.

The quote on the clickbait site isn't even the most interesting part of the article; you talk about leaving social media because the pressure of making sure people liked you affected your mental health, about going to therapy since you were a teenager, and about how annoyed you were a couple years ago when the movement #AskHerMore was in full swing and you still felt reduced to only the way you looked at the Oscars, where a movie you were in was nominated. If Jimin understands correctly, a video of you looking very annoyed at the questions went viral.

"It was very frustrating," The quote begins. "because on one hand you had what was supposed to help the interviewers realize that you want to talk more about the movie you worked so hard on, but so many of them simply didn't care. I guess what really got to me was that there were people saying that women get asked about their looks because their dresses are so beautiful and of course people notice them, but I was wearing the most generic black suit you've ever seen. And still they kept calling me bold and chic and other things just cause I had fu**ing pants on."

He opens a new tab and quickly types "[Y/N] Oscars suit outfit" before he even realizes what he's doing.

And there it is: the same feeling he got a few minutes ago when he saw the first picture of you.

Breathless, palms sweaty.

He scrolls through the image results, opening and looking at related pictures of you in suits from other events. It seems that it's a preferred outfit for you along with jumpsuits, and there's an occasional dress now and then.

He sighs and goes back to the article to finish it and look at the rest of the pictures from the Vogue session.

"It doesn't just happen to me." You say in another quote. "There are other women who wear suits and it gets treated like some kind of big deal when they're just clothes. And men have it way, way worse. At least we can wear a suit normally but if men want to wear dresses or skirts or even clothes that deviate from what so many people consider masculine, they'll have people criticizing them and disrespecting them in horrible ways. They're just pieces of fu**ing fabric! Gender roles are such bulls**t."

Jimin smiles at that, and at the fact that the writer of the piece comments that you get very passionate when talking about such things. He likes it.

A big yawn interrupts his train of thought, and he realizes his shoulder hasn't been bothering him for a little while now. He leaves his phone on his nightstand and gets comfortable under the covers, thinking it would be nice if they had actually met you, instead of it only being just a misunderstanding.

Maybe one day.

Chapter 4: Jin

Because Jin is sitting next to Jungkook inside the van, he can't really help but be distracted by the videos the younger has been watching nonstop on his phone. As it has been for the past couple of weeks, he's watching another one of your interviews.

It's astoundingly obvious to everyone that Jungkook has developed a crush on you.

"You're still watching videos of her?" Jin asks, but the taunting tone in his voice goes completely over Jungkook's head. He's too focused on the video.

"Yes. Do you want to watch?" Jungkook asks, offering an earphone for him innocently. Jin finds it impossible to resist the cuteness so he accepts it, taking it from his hand and putting it on as he wraps his arm around Jungkook's shoulders.

It's an interview, and you're sitting next to an actor he doesn't recognize.

"Who's that?" He asks Jungkook, pointing at the guy.

"I don't know." Jungkook shrugs, truly not caring even a tiny a bit about who the man is.

"Okay." Jin replies, shaking his head at Jungkook with a smile. There's really good chemistry between you and the man— you laugh together a lot, and he feels a spark of recognition at the back of his mind when he sees your smile, but he can't tell where it comes from.

"Have you seen their movie?" Jin asks, returning the earphone to its owner. Jungkook nods as he puts it back on.

"It's very good. I liked it."

So he has seen the movie, but he still doesn't know who the actor is at all? There might be a possibility that the crush is a bit more intense than Jin previously believed.

"What else has she worked on?" He pries, wondering if he's confusing you with someone else or if maybe he did see something you were on, even if it was in passing. There's something familiar about you and it's starting to annoy him to not know what exactly.

"Lots of things. Several movies. She was on a show when she began acting. I think her first job was on CSI or one of those American crime shows with a thousand seasons." Jungkook focuses on his video again and Jin pulls out his own phone, quickly searching for your name.

He opens your Wikipedia page and goes straight to Filmography, where he can see right there on the Television section that your first credit is actually CSI.

CSI: Crime Scene Investigation.

2013.

Oh, no.

The name of your character. Jin knows it. God, he'd recognize it anywhere. The name of the episode right next to it only serves to confirm what he's fearing.

He immediately types "[Y/N] CSI" and swallows a gasp when he sees the pictures that pop up in front of his eyes, careful to not alert Jungkook or the others.

Oh god, no.

Jin knows who you are very well. He hasn't really watched the episode you appeared on in a while, but he used to do it so often that he memorized exactly what happens every single second you're on screen.

Your hair was a different color and you were younger— that's why he didn't immediately recognize you. Back when you were on that episode it was futile to try and search for more of your work; CSI was your first role and he couldn't find any information about you at the time. He didn't really search for you again after that; he was very aware that shows like that have hundreds of guest actors that sometimes end up reduced to extras for the rest of their careers.

Well, this was clearly not the case for you.

The memories of the scenes he knows so well flash quickly on his mind, and he swallows with slight difficulty as he feels his ears getting hot.

Your hand is wrapped around the guy who plays your boyfriend's throat— and without showing too much it's clear you're on top of him while you have sex. His hands are tied with a scarf to the bed, and he's blindfolded.

"You like that, baby?" You whisper into the man's ear with a smile, biting his earlobe.

Jin shakes his head, trying to get rid of the very intrusive thought of you lovingly choking a guy during sex. He's in a van with the rest of the guys, the last thing he wants is for them to notice something is wrong.

He closes all the tabs and puts his phone away, moving his head to look out the window instead, hoping the sight of the buildings and streets will distract him. He's glad the whole BTS thing was a misunderstanding and you didn't actually meet them, because he has no idea how he'd react if he had you in front of him in real life.

How do you possibly greet the person you used to masturbate to on a daily basis?

If you’ve made it here: thank you so much for reading!

#sub!bts #sub!idol #ot7 x reader #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #park jimin x reader #kim seokjin x reader #kim namjoon x reader #min yoongi x reader #jung hoseok x reader #kim taehyung x reader #if you've read this on ao3 don't worry it's me lmao #my work

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thedappleddragon · 3 years

Text

hooooo my fucking god I don't know why but recently my anxiety/sence of dread has SKYROCKETED in the last 3 days, I haven't been sleeping great and last night I had an anxiety dream about manning the register at work. idk I guess today was fine but im so fucking overstimulated I guess?? I seriously just dont fuking know. but anyway here’s a summary of some days that I may or may not remember. putting it under the cut

Wednesday I was exited to work, they didn’t need me, I hung out with my friends at their outdoor band concert and had boba and it got super cold out

Thursday I went with my dad to drop off a car, then we had breakfast together at a little restaurant I had never been to before. He told me about his childhood n stuff. Then I went to work and priced things outside and felt good about helping some people buy plants even tho I didn’t know exactly what I was doing and ended up handing them off to Becky anyway. Got off work, came home, hung out waiting to be able to go visit my friend but she took a while so dad and I made the snack he had a lot as a kid which was just handmade chocolate frosting on graham crackers. Eventually my friend got home so I grabbed one of those graham crackers in some Tupperware and some other stuff and headed out. It was a longer drive than I was expecting but eh whatever, I got there no problem with a bunch of dad’s shit in the back of the car. We had awkward hellos in her apartment and I pet her fat ass cat until she suggested we go thrifting and oh my god I had never wanted to go thrifting more in my life than right then. I had one of those moments where I realized oh I’m an adult who can go out and just DO things :D so we walked around and gossiped in goodwil and had a great time until they closed, whereupon steph frantically looked for anything that was open near us while I drove around. We settled on going to a little park nearby, where we climbed on the tube with holes on it and swung on the swings. Then we walked around a dense tree/brush like and into the middle of a field, having our main character moments as we walked to the top of a hill with a cross on it. I took a picture of the sunset and a selfie with both of us before we walked back through the field and drove back to her apartment. I gave her 2 tiny flower jars and she let me borrow her container of earring hardware and a bunch of different tiny things to make into earrings. I had a great time and I’d love to hang out again, maybe when everything isn’t closed lmao. We joked a lot about understanding why people do drugs lmao since there’s nothing else to do! everything’s closed!! Also some joke flirting mixed in for flavor. We have an excuse to hang out again so I can return her earring supplies and she can return my Tupperware lol. I thought my phone was going to die on the way home before I realized there was a charging cord in the car! Nice. Got home, watched my friend stream plasmaphobia for a bit while I finished a birthday gift, and hung out and slept when she quit streaming.

Friend’s birthday party day!! Also dad moving day!! The first task of the day was to drive with my dad down to the nearest uhaul to pick up a big ol’ truck, and follow him home in the car while he lead the way in the truck. Then we brought his car full of shit to the apartment, got his key and paid his first month, and looked through everything to do inspection. Tbh it’s a pretty nice apartment, I’d love to spend some time there once it’s a bit more furnished. My favorite part is a Harry Potter style hidey hole closet that’s meant for storage, but it’s the perfect size for a secluded hangout spot for me. I’ll totally let him use it for storage if he wants, I just like sitting in there. I joked that I would let Emily hang out in the spare bedroom and I could get the tiny room. But we spent time cleaning and looking around and bringing in boxes before dad sent me to pick up lunch, my sister, and another car load of boxes. I left to do all 3 and came back with Mcallisters, and we all sat on the floor and ate together. A very nice way to break in a new apartment. We brought in boxes and dad sent us on a quest to pick up a car part and drop it off where the car we dropped off the day before. We got there just fine, but getting to the second location was a nightmare because of all my wrong turns and u turns and no left turns, it was awful. I mean we got there eventually but still. By then it was time for me to get home so I could wash my hair and get ready for the party!! I got everything ready, but my sister wouldn’t be home with the car on time, so I just took my mom’s van. I was on time for once!! But in exchange I didn’t realize I had forgotten Cassidy’s gift until I was like 3 minutes away. But also I found driving my moms van very easy compared to last time I tried to drive it, and I think I’m a much more confident driver now :) but I was one of the first to arrive, accidentally twinned with cass, waited for everyone to show up, met her new dog, and then we all packed up the picnic basket and walked to the top of a hill to have our little sandwiches and play cards against humanity. On the walk there we passed by a park where little kids were asking why we were all dressed up if it wasn’t Halloween, so I shouted at them that it was her birthday and handed them the branch I was carrying. We played CAH on the hill and ate little sandwiches and meatballs and drank sparkling juice and had a lovely time, and when we were done, we walked back to her house where there was pizza and we all changed out of our formal wear. My bra was sewed into my dress with 6 stitches, so I grabbed some scissors and flashed my friend’s cat as I cut my bra free of the dress because I forgot to bring an extra. I changed into my ghostbusters shirt and snake onesie and joined everyone outside for pizza and lots and lots of stories and ice cream cake and gossip and quiplash and balloons and gifts and CAH and friends leaving and new friends arriving and more quiplash and then the grass getting cold and wet and going ham on keeping the balloons up and then playing that’s what she said (basically CAH but ✨for women ✨) and by this time there was a dude I didn’t know but he was very nice and cute and already taken. Tbh I didn’t know half the people there, there was a group of 4 cool alt people I had never met and then the 4 band kids I already knew but everyone else seemed to know each other and they all had great energy so I yelled a lot and joked a ton and had an amazing time. As the crowd dwindled and the night got cooler, I helped put things away before I left so I could be a nice guest, said my goodbyes, gathered my things, and drove home past midnight. Ask walked around the house turning off lights like my mom asked, I realized that my dad wouldn’t be sleeping here anymore, and I felt bad that he had to spend the night all alone in his new apartment :( and this is going to be a huge financial burden that idk if he can afford, rent for the apartment is almost as much as my mom pays for the house. Jejdjgjt this is all a mess and I would like to go back to ignoring it all <3 Listened to a lot of two trucks by lemon demon lmao

Hoo boy howdy I did a lot of shit today. Basically as soon as I woke up I got a text from dad about us helping him move with a promise of donut holes and a fruit platter. I walked out to the garage to find our family friends the drakes helping to move boxes, so we all spent several hours loading boxes into our cars and driving back and forth from the house to the apartment, with emily and I avoiding the drakes as much as possible lmao. When we had moved as much as we could in the car, we started loading up the uhaul, shoving as much shit in there as possible so we only had to do one trip there and back. Partially through unloading the truck the drakes stopped cleaning things before we brought them in left and some randos from dad’s work came to help unload and somewhere in the middle of all this our aunt and uncle and her service dog came to visit?? Bruh idk so much stuff happened. Emily asked me to take her home so she could work on school stuff and we put things back into the garage and I went back to the apartment to help with stuff and hang out with my aunt while my dad and uncle returned the truck. We made a list of stuff I might need for college and I wrote it down on a notepad and most of the page space was taken up by ponies tbh. The men brought back burger king and eventually my aunt and uncle left. I helped my dad clean up and set up his wifi and we watched mama Mia. It was my first time seeing the film, and it was really dang fun. Then I made dad drive me ho e since emily was still gone with the silver car. I’ll spend he night over there eventually, but not yet. I’m exited to eventually invite friends over since I’ve never been able to do that before. So now I’m home trying g to go to sleep so I can work tomorrow. I keep thinking about smoking weed and making out with someone in the hidey hole in dad’s apartment............ even tho I have literally no one to do that with afsagssg I’m a CHILD.

Had dreams last night about being stuck on the infinity train again, except there was a mechanic of switching the world between 2d and 3d and the cast of Bluey had to help bingo go through stages of grief / character moments to help her get off the train or something. I was tossing and turning for a few hours anxiously waking up thinking I was gonna be late and going back to bed so I could sleep/dream more. But then I finally got up, fed my cat, fed myself, helped clean the kitchen a little bit, got ready for work, arrived 15 minutes late on accident, worked register for 6 hours, got more comfortable with register and learned how to do stuff, lots of friendly people, lots of me struggling and my bones hurting, dad brought me food but I couldn’t get to my lunch break until everything was room temperature. The chicken sandwich reheated well but the fries did not. After work dad and I stopped by the house, I got an info card to fill out so I can be called in for jury duty eventually, dad handed me $50 for dinner for us and my sister, we laid on the floor and looked at the noodles and company menu, drove there, picked up our food, had a lovely dinner at dad’s apartment, laid around while he talked to Greg on the phone, went to target to pick up small apartment things like a clock and a trash can and some small groceries but it made me nervous because I hate spending money and watching my dad spend money he may or may not have, and by then we were tired as shit and after dropping his stuff off emily and I drove home and I tried teaching her how to crochet for a school project. Now I’m hanging out wanting to go to bed and thinking about how everybody else my age working at ACE is doing like 60 hours a week with 2 jobs and saving for college and I’m just sitting here with probably 14 hours a week and fuck. I don’t want to spiral into shit, I just want to keep busy as much as possible. Maybe I’ll ask for as many work hours as possible, maybe I’ll ask my friends to hang out, idk. Right now I jut want to be busy so I don’t have to think about anything. I’ll spend as much time as possible helping my dad set up his apartment, I don’t care.

WAAAAA TODAY AT WORK WAS SO STRESSFUL, I LEFT FELLNG SO FRAZZLED IT SUCKED. basically I worked register for 4 hours but they’re all trying to ween me off asking for help to get me more comfortable, and we were surprisingly busy, and my garden boss becky asked me to do 2 extra things and my boss boss kept asking about paperwork that I couldn't fill out because I needed my sister to text me something, and an old man got mad at me over the phone because no-one was out there to fill his propane tank and I had a lady waiting for 10 minutes for someone to help load salt into her car and a middle aged man tried to use sarcasm at me while I was in friendly cashier mode aND IM SORRY I HAVE ADHD I DONT GET IT PLEASE S T O P and I tried answering the phone more and I didnt get the things done that becky asked and I left shit there because I just wanteD OUT. afterwards I went to target to get something, idk im writing this afterwards so I not really remember

and today, my day off. ugh god I dont remember what I did, I know I picked up a vent for my mom’s bathroom and I just went to go get Taco Bell with my sister and bought her some more about crocheting and she’s making progress :) tomorrow is my friend’s birthday and last year I made her a felt doll of her fursona, so today I started making a crochet doll for her. so far I have the body and libs, but I still need to make the muzzle, tail, ears, attach everything, and hand-sew on all the markings and glue on button eyes. or maybe felt eyes, idk. my stomach hurts and I got upset because I told my mom my cat may be sick because her pee looked suspicious so I crocheted and watched my little pony and now I have a headache and im just trying to listen to music but really I just want to watch 50 arms videos at once but it wasn't loading right and idk man I dont know what’s happening, I may be going into work tomorrow. I think now that I have a job to do 3-4 times a week, I dont feel like I can just chill and wing it anymore, it’s like I have plans forever now. and oh god I still have to sig up for college orientation night or whatever, but my mind hasn'tt been on college for like a month or longer. I think im just going to take some Advil and try to relax with my cat and my music. holy shit dude. I know none’s gonna read this but just. fuck. also I should really post these more frequently rather than let them pile up in my texts. thinking about going back and adding all the dates like I did with my early quarantine diary, but that feels like a lot of work

#thanks for coming to my ted talk #may 2021 daily

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ilya-sorokins · 5 years

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Prompt: cliche as fuck Lucaya break up Lucas moves. Comes back years later to find out Maya has a kid. His kid but he doesn't know. And no one will tell him.

so i think i got this ask in 2017 (tumblr really ought to put dates on these things) HOWEVER i started it like as soon as a got it, and i forgot about it for like a year, and i FINALLY finished it! pls keep in mind that this was written over the course of at least a year and a half and no one proofread it lmao. also lucaya is pretty much dead so i’m not expecting much out of this.

title: everything’s gonna be alrightword count: 7k+ship: lucaya, side riarkleao3

It all starts when Lucas Friar is offered a job. Not just any job, though. A job in Texas. A job that’s approximately 1,743 miles away from New York City. It’s also a job that’s approximately 1,743 miles from Maya Hart.

When he first tells Maya, she laughs, “You’re kidding, right?” But his face says otherwise. “Wait, you aren’t seriously considering accepting the offer, are you?”

“I’ve already accepted, Maya,” he tells her gently, squeezing her hand in his. “One of my former professors recommended me for the position, and the pay is amazing. I couldn’t turn it down.”

“What about me?” she asks, taking her hand from his and crossing her arms. She pinches herself repeatedly, thinking, This is just a dream, you’ll wake up and laugh at such a crazy idea. Lucas isn’t moving to Texas any time soon.

Brows furrowed, Lucas responds, “I assumed you would come with me. We were planning on moving in together soon, anyways.”

He reaches to take her hand again, but she moves away from his touch. Shocked at her reaction, he inches away from the blonde, a chasm beginning to grow between them.

“Lucas, you do realize that I have a life here, right?” she snaps, clenching her fists in her lap. “I have a family, friends, a damn job. I can’t just uproot my life.”

“I know,” he says slowly, thoughts churning in his head, “I just–well, I thought you’d want to come with me. We love each other. I’d planned on spending my life with you.”

The anger inside Maya quickly boils down into sadness and heartbreak. “I do love you, Lucas,” she begins, tears welling in her blue eyes, “but if you actually take this job, if you actually leave, then we’re done. There can’t be an us if you’re halfway across the country.”

“Then I guess we’re over,” he says simply. “I can’t turn down this opportunity. I’d never forgive myself. Maybe one day you’ll understand that, Maya.”

She’s so shocked that she doesn’t even realize he’s left until the door slams. Then the floodgates open and sobs wrack her tiny body. Tears stream down her cheeks, dripping onto her chest.

Maya cries so violently she ends up making herself sick. She runs to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before she vomits.

But the burn in her throat is nothing compared to the pain of her broken heart.

On autopilot, the woman gets up from the floor to brush her teeth. As she looks in the mirror, her disheveled reflection shows her mascara stained cheeks and post-vomit session hair. Normally Maya would fix herself up, make herself look presentable, but she can’t bring herself to do it.

It’s not like she has anyone to impress anymore.

Before she starts crying again, she decides to make a call. She finds her phone and goes to her favorite contacts. Before long, she’s greeted with a chirpy, “Peaches! How’d it go? I’ve been thinking about it all day!”

She takes a deep breathe. “I didn’t get to tell him, Riles. We just broke up.”

“What?!” Riley screeches, her tone dripping in shock. “Why? I thought you all were happy.”

“So did I,” the blonde muses. “He accepted a position in back in Austin without talking to me about it. He just assumed I’d go with him.”

The other woman’s gasp can be heard through the phone. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry, Maya.”

“I wish I could go with him,” she says honestly. “It’s not like I can. I’ve worked too hard to get my teaching job to just leave.”

“I agree with you, but what about–”

“The baby?” Maya finishes for her. The awkward silence is an answer enough. “He’s not going to find out that I’m pregnant. He doesn’t need to know. When he chose the job over me, he lost his right to know about my life. Plus, I was raised by a single mom, and I turned out okay. At least I think I did. We’ll make do.”

“Peaches, do you want me to come over?” Riley asks, concerned about her friend.

“You don’t need to do that…” she answers, trailing off. “But if you want to, I wouldn’t be opposed to eating ice cream and watching Friends in our pajamas.”

Her best friend laughs and it’s the first time Maya smiles since Lucas told her about the job offer.

“Okay, I’ll grab a few pints of Ben and Jerry’s and head over. Be there in thirty?”

Maya responds, “That works. Thank you, Riles. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

The blonde lets out a breath, “Let’s hope.”

When she ends the call, she drops her hand to her still-flat stomach.

I guess it’s just me and you now, kiddo, she thinks, rubbing small circles. Everything’s gonna be alright.

—————————————-—————————————-

On a scorching day in the late spring, Maya gives birth to a beautiful baby girl after an incredibly long labor. She has wisps of dark blonde hair and her mother’s piercing blue eyes. The first person to hold her after her mother is Riley.

“She’s perfect, Maya,” the brunette whispers, holding the newborn in her arms. “Did you pick her name?”

She nods, looking at the sleeping baby in her friends arms, “Lucy Jane Hart. Lucy means light, and this little one is the light of my life.”

Riley says, “I love it. She’s lucky to have such a great mom.”

“I hope you’re right. I really, really hope so.”

While this moment occurs in New York, Lucas is returning to an empty apartment in Texas. He’s had yet another boring day at work, and every part of him misses Maya.

There have been several nights where he’s had a few drinks and almost called her, but even when he’s drunk he can’t forget her words.

If you actually leave, then we’re done.

And Lucas left. He made that decision. With each day that passes, his mistake becomes more and more apparent.

As he opens his first beer of the night, he says to nothing, “I miss Maya,” and wishes she was there with him.

At the same time, Maya holds her daughter and says, “I miss Lucas,” and wishes he was there with her.

But neither knows they’re thinking the same thing, and they go on with their lives. One day at a time.

—————————————-—————————————-

Almost six years later, Maya hears the words she never thought she’d hear.

“Lucas is back,” Farkle tells her over the phone. “He’s literally on his way to my apartment as we speak.”

It comes as such a shock to her body that she finds herself doubled over her classroom’s trash can, throwing up her lunch. Luckily it’s after school hours, so she won’t have any curious middle school students asking, “Miss Hart, are you okay?”

(Because her answer would be no, Miss Hart is not okay.)

“Maya,” she hears through her cell. “Maya, are you still there?”

She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, picking up her phone to answer him. “I’m still here. I just threw up everything in my stomach.”

“Shit, Maya,” he says with a sigh. “I knew you wouldn’t be excited, but I didn’t think you’d react that badly.”

“Tell me about it,” she mutters. She hadn’t thrown up since her morning sickness days. Maya’s generally a healthy person. Except when she finds out the father of her child is back in town. That easily upsets her stomach. “Is he back for good?”

“Yes. He’s transferring to a vet’s office in the city,” Farkle tells her. “He asked to stay with us for a few nights, he can’t move into his apartment until Monday.”

“Oh, fuck,” Maya curses. “He’s gonna want to see me, isn’t he?”

“He’s already asked about you. He didn’t waste any time.”

A blush spreads across her cheeks and she’s immediately thankful to be alone right now. “Dammit,” she curses again.

“Uh, Maya,” he says, “You do remember what day it is, right?”

The woman’s eyes trail to her desk calendar. Thursday. What’s so special about Thurs– “Fuck, you all have Lucy right now!” she remembers. Riley always watches the five year old at her and Farkle’s place so Maya can stay at the school and finish up some work. “Wait–you said he’s on his way now?!”

“That’s what I said.”

“Shit! He’s gonna know she’s not yours!” she rambles, grabbing her bag. “I’m leaving the school right now. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“You’ll probably get here right before him.”

“Oh, I will be there before him,” Maya promises, exiting the building. She hangs up the phone and books it to the Minkus-Matthews apartment.

When she arrives, she’s drenched in sweat and her feet are on fire. Silently she curses herself for picking style over comfort when it came to today’s shoes. The wedges seemed like a great idea this morning.

Letting herself in, Maya calls out, “Hello?”

Seconds later the pitter-patter of tiny feet can be heard. Lucy crashes into her mother, nearly knocking Maya down, greeting, “Mommy! You’re early!”

“I just missed you so much!” she tells her, stooping down to her level. The little girl beams at her, ecstatic at the surprise.

“I missed you, too, Mommy! I had so much fun at school today!” she tells her, jittering with energy.

Maya laughs, wondering exactly how fun a day of first grade could be. Nonetheless, she replies, “I can’t wait to hear all about it, little bug. Where’s Auntie Riley and Uncle Farkle?”

The girl grabs her hand, leading her through the apartment. In the kitchen she finds the couple, where they are speaking in heated whispers, undoubtedly over Lucas’ impending arrival.

“Peaches!” Riley says, still greeting with the childhood nickname. “How was your day?”

“It was great until I got the news,” she says, letting out a sigh. She looks around to see what Lucy’s doing, but she’s too busy showing Farkle her new book to eavesdrop. “I’m scared, Riley.”

The woman’s face falls. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, Maya. Plus, it could be good, you know,” she tells her, then her voice drops to a whisper, “Meeting her dad.”

Maya shakes her head, “I don’t know, Riles. It’s always been us. Lucy’s never even asked about her dad. Anyways, he may not even want her.”

The brunette narrows her eyes, “You know that’s not true. He will do everything for her once he finds out. Plus, Lucy will start asking about him sooner rather than later.”

As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, she knows she’s right. Lucas isn’t the type to abandon his own daughter. If anything, he’ll want to make up for nearly six years of lost time. And Maya also knows that he’s going to be heartbroken that she never told him. But she’ll cross that road when she comes to it.

And just because Lucy isn’t curious about her dad now, doesn’t mean she won’t ever be. Maya knows that from experience.

When the doorbell rings and interrupts her thoughts, she nearly collapses. Oh, god, I’m seeing Lucas Friar for the first time in almost seven years, she thinks, taking a deep breath and exhaling.

“I’ve got it!” Farkle calls out, headed towards the door. A curious Lucy attempts to trail behind him, but Maya quickly gets her attention.

“Lucy, honey, come here!” she calls.

The little girl walks over, “Yes, Mommy?”

“We’re gonna head home soon, do you have all your stuff together?”

She pauses, thinking about the question. She shakes her head, “Nope. I will get all my things.”

The woman smiles. “Thank you, baby girl.”

Quickly Lucy runs off to do as she’s told.

Moments later, a new voice nearly stops her heart. A voice that she hasn’t heard in nearly 7 years, but still causes her knees to weaken, and her cheeks to flush.

“Wow, Shortstack, you’ve barely changed,” Lucas walks into the kitchen, setting his bags down on the tile.

Heart pounding rapidly, Maya replies, “Same goes to you, Ranger Rick.”

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, but Riley swoops in to hug him. She easily distracts the man from his ex-girlfriend. The brunette badgers him with questions about his time in Texas and his new job here.

Maya almost thinks she’ll be able to sneak out without him noticing, but then her lovely daughter barrels into the room, huge backpack engulfing her tiny body as she yells, “Mommy, I’m ready to go!”

Lucas turns around, looking at the child, then up to the blonde, “Maya, you have a daughter?”

“Yes,” she answers, holding her daughter close to her. She bends down, introducing her little girl, “Lucy, this is Lucas. He’s one of Mommy’s… old friends.”

“Hi,” she sticks her hand out, “Nice to meet you, Lucas.”

Stooping down to her level, he smiles and shakes her tiny hand, “Hi, Lucy. Nice to meet you, too. How old are you?”

“I am five–but I am almost six!” she answers, very excited about her upcoming birthday. “I will be six on May 15th!”

“That’s very soon. I can see why you’re excited.” He looks back up to Maya, then says, “She’s beautiful, looks just like you.”

Somehow, her cheeks flush an even brighter red as she says, “Thank you, Lucas.” She grabs Lucy’s hand, “Let’s go, little bug.”

“Okay!” she says, grinning. “Bye, Lucas! Bye, Auntie Riley and Uncle Farkle!”

Before they head out, Lucas comes up to her, “Maya?”

“Yeah?”

“I was wondering, um, maybe–if you’re okay with it? Could we, uh, have dinner sometime? Catch up?” he asks. “But only if you want to!”

Maya is slightly taken aback by the offer, but still finds herself saying, “Sure. Shoot me a message–my number’s still the same.”

He smiles, “Great. See you around.”

“Yeah. See you around,” she replies, then shuffles her daughter out the door.

Once they get outside and head towards the subway, Lucy asks, “Mommy, why is your face so red?”

The woman blushes even more. “Just hot, sweetie. Let’s go home.”

—————————————-—————————————-

“So why didn’t you all tell me that Maya has a kid?” Lucas asks his friends after she leaves.

Farkle shrugs, “It’s not like it really came up in conversation. You didn’t ask about her until today.”

“Is the–is the father in the picture?” he questions. He didn’t even think about her not being single when he asked her to dinner. (Not that this dinner has to be a date, by any means. But he really, really wants it to be a date.)

“No,” Riley answers quickly. She looks uncomfortable as she goes on, “They broke up before she found out she was pregnant. He never found out…”

“Damn,” Lucas replies, rubbing the back of his neck. Every part of him knew Maya would’ve moved on from him, but he never would’ve imagined that she had a child. Hell, based on the age of her daughter, she must’ve moved on almost immediately.

The brunette adds, “Well, she’s doing great. Maya’s a great mom, and Lucy is a great kid.”

“I can imagine,” he comments. Pasting on a fake smile, he changes the subject, “What about you all? The wedding is soon, yeah?”

The couple launches into details about their impending nuptials, but even seeing the immense happiness on their faces isn’t enough to distract his own thoughts.

When his transfer got approved, his first thought was just Maya. Maya is in New York. He’s back in New York. Lucas hoped that things could back to how they were before. Before he left her for a job that he hated.

But Maya has a daughter, a beautiful little girl that is the center of her life. She won’t drop everything to go back to the man that broke her heart. Besides, she may not want him back anyways.

But I still love her, he thinks. I never stopped loving her.

—————————————-—————————————-

“Alright, little bug,” Maya sing songs, brushing out Lucy’s wet hair, “It is definitely bedtime.”

The young girl frowns, “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” she nods, kissing the top of her head, “you have school tomorrow, and Mommy has to work. So, it’s bedtime. Go brush your teeth so I can tuck you in.”

Lucy obliges, running off to the bathroom. While she’s in there, Maya gets a call from an unsaved number.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Maya. Can you talk right now?”

Lucas’ voice comes as a slight shock. She hadn’t expected him to contact her so soon. “Oh, hey, Lucas,” she responds after a moment of silence. “I’m getting ready to tuck Lucy in, can you wait a few minutes?”

“Shit, sorry,” he stammers. “I can call you back or–”

“No, no,” she tells him. “It’ll just take a few minutes. Stay on the call, okay?”

He agrees, and Maya leaves her phone on her bed. When she gets to Lucy’s room, she’s already in her bed, waiting patiently.

“Okay, little bug,” she says, taking her seat on the edge of her bed. The blonde starts tucking the blankets up around her daughter, then plants a kiss on her cheek, “I love you, Lucy. Sleep tight, baby girl.”

“I love you, too, Mommy,” Lucy tells her, snuggling into bed.

Maya picks her favorite teddy off the floor, then hands it to her. She gives her one last kiss, saying, “Good night.”

Before she leaves the room she makes sure the night light is on and switches the rest off. When she gets back to her own bedroom, she picks up her phone and asks, “You still there?”

“Yeah,” Lucas answers. “I wanted to… I wanted to know how you were doing? We didn’t really get to talk earlier… And it’s been a long time.”

“I’m good, I guess,” she says, walking out of her bedroom and to the kitchen. If I’m gonna talk to him, I’m pouring myself a glass of wine, she tells herself, grabbing the bottle from the fridge. “I keep busy. I’m still the art teacher at our old middle school, and being a single mom isn’t exactly easy.”

He laughs, “I can imagine she’s a handful. But she seems wonderful, Maya. I can’t get over how much she looks like you. She’s your twin.”

Taking a big gulp from her glass, she says, “Thank you. She’s perfect. I can’t imagine life without her. I didn’t know my life was missing something until she was placed in my arms.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” he tells her. “I’ve thought a lot about you.”

Without thinking, she replies, “I’ve thought a lot about you, too, Ranger Rick.”

“Really?” he asks in disbelief. “I figured you hated me.”

Maya takes another sip of her wine. “I could never hate you. You know that.”

Lucas’ deep breath can be heard through the call, “You had every right to.”

“I did,” she agrees, “but I never once hated you.”

It’s not a lie. Even throughout her entire pregnancy, the late night feedings, and the days where she just wanted someone to hold her, Maya never hated Lucas. She couldn’t hate him, he gave her Lucy. But, she had missed him. She would’ve done anything to have him back by her side.

“Do you think we could do dinner this Saturday night?” he asks, “I wasn’t sure if you had a sitter, or if you even wanted to.”

She laughs, “I’d love to. It’ll be nice to have some company that isn’t five years old, or a middle school student, or a stressed couple planning the wedding of the century.”

“They really are going over the top, aren’t they?” Lucas jokes. The Minkus-Matthews’ wedding won’t be one to miss. “So–Saturday at 6? I’ll text you the address.”

“As long as my sitter is free, I’m in,” she says.

“Great. I’ll let you go now,” he responds. “Bye, Maya.”

“Bye, Lucas,” she says, then ends the call. She downs the rest of her wine, then calls her best friend. As soon as Riley answers, Maya greets with, “I think I just agreed to a date with Lucas Friar.”

—————————————-—————————————-

“Mommy, why do you look so fancy?” Lucy asks, watching her mother carefully apply her nude lipstick.

“I’m going to a fancy dinner, so I have to look fancy,” Maya answers, pouting her lips in the mirror. Naturally, the girl imitates her, causing the woman to chuckle. “Are you excited to spend the night with Nana?”

“Yeah!” she exclaims, bouncing on her heels. “Nana and I are gonna make sketti and meatballs! Then we’re gonna watch a movie!”

“Wow!” she enthuses, pushing a loose curl out of Lucy’s eyes. “It sounds like you all are gonna have so much fun.”

“We will!”

Maya sends her off to put her shoes on, and she slips her heels on herself. Checking her reflection, she smoothes out her dress and checks her hair one last time. She’s wearing a deep red halter dress that hugs her curves, paired with her trusty black pumps. Once she’s ready, she heads out with Lucy in tow.

After she drops Lucy off at her mom’s place (with the promise of having her in bed by 8:30, but Maya knows Katy is a sucker and will let her grandbaby stay up way past her bedtime), she hails a cab to the upscale Italian restaurant. When she arrives, she immediately spots her date, and her knees go wobbly.

Lucas looks good. He’s wearing a navy blue suit, which is Maya’s absolute weakness. She greets him with, “Well, you still clean up pretty well, Cowboy.”

“Thanks, Shortstack,” He grins, looking her up and down, “You look gorgeous, Maya.”

Her heart feels like it could burst out of her chest, but she tries to ignore the feeling. “Thank you, Lucas.”

Their hands brush together as they walk into the restaurant, but they both pull away quickly, blushing.

(Maya hopes her blush isn’t as bad as she believes it is, because she feels as red as her dress at the moment.)

(Lucas thinks the exact same thing as he gives his name for the reservation.)

They’re taken to a secluded table near the back. “Enjoy your dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Friar,” comments the hostess.

Maya wants to correct her, but she decides to keep her mouth shut. Once she’s out of earshot, she laughs, “Awkward.”

The man chuckles in agreement, grabbing the wine list, “Red or white?”

“Hmm,” she ponders, tapping her chin in thought. “Red.”

When the waiter arrives, he orders a whole bottle of Cabernet for the two of them– the price nearly makes her faint, but he doesn’t seem phased. Before the wine even makes it to the table, Lucas apologizes, “Can I just go ahead and say I’m sorry? Because I am so sorry.”

“For what, exactly?” she responds, busying her hands with the dinner napkin in her lap. She can only imagine where this conversation will go.

He lets out a deep sigh, “For being so stupid all those years ago. I never should’ve accepted the job offer without talking to you first.”

The blonde says, “It’s okay, Lucas. The past is the past. It’s not like we can go back and change it. I’ve gotten over it.” No I haven’t, she thinks.

“I wish I could,” he admits, rubbing his hands together. “You know, I ended up hating that job. Biggest regret of my life.”

Sensing his distress, Maya reaches across the table to grab his hand. Instantly, she feels him relax. She tells him, “We’ve all made mistakes, even me. We’re only human.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think your mistakes led to losing the love of your life,” he comments, rubbing his thumb across her hand.

My mistake led to our daughter growing up without a father, she thinks, but doesn’t voice. There’s a time and place for that conversation, and it’s definitely not right here, right now. “Well,” she starts, “I’m here now, right?”

He nods, “Yes.”

“So you didn’t completely lose me,” she points out. “I could’ve turned down this offer. I have lots of shows I could be catching up on right now. There are plenty of medical dramas waiting for me to binge.”

Lucas laughs a true laugh. It’s a sound she’s missed so much, something she’s wanted to hear again. “Thank you for coming, then.”

“You’re welcome,” she responds. “Okay, so it’s been almost seven years. A lot can happen in that much time…”

“Yeah, like you having a daughter. I can’t believe you have a kid,” he teases, then quickly adds, “Not that it’s a bad thing, by any means. She’s adorable, I’m just still shocked, to be honest.”

Maya fakes a chuckle. If only you knew she was yours, she thinks. “She’s wonderful. I may be biased, but she’s the smartest almost six year old I’ve ever met. I put her into kindergarten when she was four–even though everyone told me she was too young–and her teacher said she’s ahead of most of her classmates. So they’re pretty sure she’ll be offered a spot in the accelerated program in few years, but there’s no guarantee–” then she stops and throws her hands up, saying, “Oh god, I’m rambling about my kid. I’m being the worst date right now.”

This time, Lucas grabs her hand to calm her down. “It’s fine,” he laughs. “At least you have something to talk about. I have nothing.”

“I’m sure you did something interesting in the past seven years.”

“Nope. Nothing.”

“Seriously?” she asks, “No crazy vet stories? Crazy farm stories? Crazy date stories?”

He chuckles at the last question. “I had a woman bring me her duck that was actually a chicken. I didn’t live on a farm, my apartment was downtown. Definitely no memorable dates.”

The wine arrives and the server takes their order. Once he leaves, Maya takes a sip of her wine and says, “So no dates, huh?”

Shaking his head, he replies, “There were dates, but nothing special. No one made it past the third date.”

“Hmm,” she hums, taking another drink.

“Have you dated anyone?” he asks, then realizes his mistake. “Shit–you have a kid. I’m an idiot.”

Yes, Lucas, you are an idiot because you haven’t even realized that she’s yours! she thinks. You went to school for eight years to become a veterinarian yet you can’t do the math to realize you’re the father!

“I’ve done the same as you, really,” she says, and it’s the truth. There were a few men, and one woman, but nothing worked out. “I’ve always been focused on Lucy, so I haven’t worried much about dating.”

He takes a moment to refill her empty wine glass, then says, “If you don’t mind me asking, why isn’t Lucy’s dad in the picture?”

“I never told him I was pregnant,” she answers too quickly.

“Riley told me that much, but why didn’t you tell him?” he quizzes curiously, sipping from his own glass.

Avoiding eye contact, she says, “I–Uh, can we not talk about that right now?” Immediately, he goes in for the apology, but she interrupts him, “Don’t be sorry, it’s just not my favorite thing to talk about.”

“Understandably so,” he agrees. The Texan turns the conversation around, “Tell me about your job. I know you’re at our old school…”

The rest of their date goes by without a hitch. They talk without asking the wrong questions, enjoy a great meal, and leave together–nearly drunk after purchasing a second bottle of wine.

(“The amount of money you spent on this meal would make my bank account cry,” she comments as he signs the bill.

He just waves it off, tipping the server substantially for dealing with them.)

“Come back to my place with me,” she offers, stumbling against him as he attempts to hail a cab. “Lucy is with my mom. Staying all night.”

He takes a moment to respond, making her think he’s going to say no. However, he eventually agrees, “Okay,” leading her into the cab.

The entire ride to her place Maya stays pressed against his side, while Lucas keeps a hand on her thigh. The touch is enough to bring goosebumps to her skin and heat up her cheeks.

Once they arrive to their destination, she leads him up to her apartment. Before she can even get her key, he has her pressed against the door and they’re kissing.

It’s hot and heavy, as if years of being apart has built up to this very moment. Perched on her tiptoes to reach, her fingers find their way to his hair. He tastes like red wine, and still smells the same as he did seven years ago.

Breaking apart to breathe, they rest their foreheads against each other. The first to break the silence is Lucas. “I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you in that dress,” he discloses, caressing her cheek. “You look so fuckin’ hot in it. But, you know what?”

“What?” she says, breathing heavily.

“It’d look better on the floor,” he says, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“That’s the most god awful thing you’ve ever said,” she says, unlocking the door. “But it was kinda hot.” Dragging him by the tie, she takes him to her bedroom. She turns around, “Unzip me.”

“Gladly,” he obliges, taking his sweet time and admiring the view, running his knuckles down her spine. While she slips her dress and heels off, Lucas sheds his suit jacket and shirt.

“You still have way too much clothes on,” she comments, reaching for his belt. She removes it, throwing it carelessly. As she goes to unbutton his slacks, he stops her.

“Are you sure we should be moving this fast?” he asks seriously. “We had a really messy break up and I don’t want to fuck up our relationship aga–“

“Lucas, I want you to fuck me,” she states, “Right now.”

He crashes his lips onto hers, then says, “I’m more than happy to oblige.”

—————————————-—————————————-

The next morning Maya wakes up with a terrible headache and a worse feeling in her heart. She had sex with Lucas last night (absolutely amazing sex, but that’s beside the point), but she still hasn’t told him about Lucy. The guilt is tearing her up inside as she watches Lucas sleep, snoring quietly.

I’m about to ruin everything, she muses. Once the truth is out, he’ll never forgive me.

Maya rests her head against his bare chest, aimlessly running her fingers up and down his torso. Slowly he stirs, wrapping his arm around her to hold her close.

“G’morning,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her hair. When she doesn’t respond, he asks, “You okay, Maya?”

“Yeah–well, no, not really.” She sighs, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What’s up?” he asks, nonchalant. His fingers are threaded through her hair, playing with the golden strands. Just like he would all those years ago.

“Have you thought about how old Lucy is?” she asks.

“Five but almost six,” he answers, quoting the child, “Her birthday is coming up, May 15th, yeah?”

“Right. Now, when did you move to Austin?”

“September will mark seven years. But, Maya, what does that have to do–” then he stops. His fingers still in her hair, and that’s how she knows he’s figured it out. “Wait, is she, y’know, mine? I’m her…”

Nodding slowly, Maya finishes his thought for him, “Yeah, you’re her father, Lucas.”

For a few moments, they lay there. No one says anything, they just think. When he finally breaks the silence, Lucas sits up in bed and asks, “Did you find out you were pregnant before or after I left?”

“Before. I thought I may have been for about a week before you left, and I took six pregnancy tests to confirm it. I’d bought a little yellow onesie that said I love Daddy! to surprise you with. I was so excited, Lucas. My life was finally falling together. I had a good job, great friends, an amazing boyfriend, and as crazy as it sounds, I was so happy to find out I was pregnant. Yeah, she wasn’t planned, we weren’t married, hell, we weren’t even engaged. It was okay, though, because we were happy. So happy. Except everything changed when you came over and dropped a bomb on me.” Maya pauses to breathe, wiping away a tear that’s threatening to escape.

As she continues, her voice begins to falter, “I didn’t tell you, then you left. I went through the entire pregnancy alone, save for my mom and Riley. Morning sickness, weird cravings, the first kicks, and swollen ankles. All of it, by myself. It was so difficult. There were days that I just stayed home and cried my bed all day, wishing you were there with me. God, I just wanted you to come back. There were nights that I was going to call, but then I remembered what I said. ‘If you actually leave, then we’re done.’ And you left me. I wanted to hate you, but I couldn’t. I never could, because I loved you too much.”

Once the words leave her mouth, she feels as if a huge weight has been lifted off her shoulders. She’s waiting for Lucas to scream and yell at her. She’s preparing herself for him to blow up, but that’s not what he does.

The first thing he says is, “God, Maya, I wish you would’ve told me. There is no job in the entire world that is more important that you and our daughter.” He pauses, then repeats himself. “Our daughter. We have a daughter…”

“Yeah, Lucas, we have a daughter. She’s perfect, so smart, and the most important thing to me,” Maya says, tears dripping down her face. “I wish I wasn’t so stupid. I should have told you sooner. You missed almost six years.”

He replies, “If I would’ve known, I would have dropped that job in a heartbeat. Being a father is so much more important than some job. I would have loved to watch Lucy grow up. And I would’ve been there for you, Maya. Every craving, doctor’s appointment, anytime you cried. I could’ve been there if you would have just told me.” He takes her hand back into his, softly rubbing circles on it.

“I know,” she admits. “It was selfish of me to keep this from you. Lucy deserves to know her dad, and you deserve to know your daughter.”

“Can I, then? Get to know her?” Lucas asks, a hopeful gleam in his green eyes.

The woman gives him a small smile, “Of course you can. I won’t keep her from you anymore, promise.”

“Thank you,” he says, squeezing her hand. “Can you tell me more about what I missed? Like, when she was a baby?”

Grinning, Maya starts, “She was such a good baby. She was always super happy, but had to be held at all times. If you put her down, you’d get an earful. I had to put her in a sling on my chest in order to get anything done…”

—————————————-—————————————-

Minutes turn into hours as Maya catches Lucas up on his daughter’s life. He’s full of questions, and she’s (mostly) full of answers. He learns about all the firsts in Lucy’s life.

(“First word?”

“No. Also her favorite word.”

“First Halloween?”

“A pumpkin. She spit up all over the costume.”)

When stories aren’t enough, Maya shows him pictures. She shows him her favorites, Lucy dressed up on her first Christmas with a bow wrapped around her little head, her first finger painting experience, and her first day of Kindergarten. With each missed memory, Lucas laughs, smiles, even cries a bit.

After seeing pictures of Lucy over the years, he asks, “When can we tell her?”

Maya pauses, “That you’re her dad? We could tell her soon…”

“How about… tonight?” Lucas proposes, “I’ve already missed enough time, Maya. I really want to be in my daughter’s life.”

The suggestion doesn’t come as much of a shock. Maya knew he’d want to tell Lucy soon, but she didn’t expect tonight. “Well…”

“I can take you all out tonight,” he suggests. “Dinner, on me. We could tell her after?”

She ponders on his offer. Though it’s sooner than she’d anticipate, it wouldn’t be a bad idea. “Okay,” she answers, then adds, “but you have to let me take the lead. I don’t want to shock her too much.”

“Deal.” Lucas grins, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you so much, Maya, for letting me become involved in her life. You really have no reason to let me in after what I did to you.”

She smiles, then pecks him on the lips. “It’s the least I can do. She’s just as much yours as she is mine. You have every right to be in her life. I’m sorry I kept you away before.”

“Stop apologizing, the past is the past. I’m ready to focus on the future,” he tells her, taking her hands into his. “Speaking of the future, what about our future?”

“What about it?”

“C’mon, Maya, you know what I mean. Last night was amazing.”

“It was,” she agrees. “But it doesn’t have to mean anything. We’d been drinking.”

He sighs, then replies, “But it did mean something to me, Maya. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I stepped off the plane into New York. If–if you want to, I want to be with you. Again.”

She knew this would come eventually. But it came sooner than she expected. “Lucas…” she trails off, thinking. “I don’t know.”

“We can try,” he offers, squeezing her hand in his. “We can try to have a relationship, and if it doesn’t work, then we’ll just be friends.”

Maya stays quiet for a moment, thinking. She wants to be with him, she really does. However, Lucas left her once before, he could surely do it again.

But at the same time, he knows about Lucy now. He seems so excited to be a dad, and be there for them. And, God, did she miss him. So many times, she has wished to be in his arms again, feel his kiss, hold his hand. Now she’s being given that opportunity again. That’s why she says: “Okay, let’s do it.”

Lucas grins, then dives in to kiss her. “You won’t regret this, I promise,” he says, holding her close.

Maya smiles, feeling happier than she has in a long, long time.

—————————————-—————————————-

Later that night, Maya finds herself shaking as she attempts to braid Lucy’s hair into two plaits. It’s about an hour before they plan to meet Lucas for dinner, and she hasn’t felt this nervous to do something since she was in labor, about to give birth and change her life forever.

“Ow!” Lucy shrieks when Maya accidentally tugs her hair too hard. “You hurt my head, Mommy.”

She kisses the little girl’s head, apologizing, “Sorry, baby, but we’re all done now.” She puts the finishing touches on Lucy’s hair, adding tiny bows to the end of each plait.

Lucy hops out of the kitchen chair, twirling in her dress. “Do I look pretty, Mommy?” she asks, batting her long eyelashes.

“You look beautiful, little bug,” Maya answers. Since it’s a special occasion, she let her wear her favorite pink dress. It was a gift from Riley, and cost more than someone should spend on a dress that’s somehow going to get paint and dirt on it within an hour. It never fails to amaze Maya how fast an outfit can get destroyed by a five year old.

Just as she finishes getting ready herself, Maya hears a knock at her apartment door. She goes to let Lucas in, and even in just jeans and polo, he looks good. “Hi, cowboy,” she greets, pecking him on the cheek before Lucy can see.

“Shortstack, long time no see,” he jokes, stepping into the small apartment. It’d only been a few hours since he’d left, just enough time for Maya to pick up Lucy from her mom’s apartment and get her ready.

“Ha-hur,” she teases with a wink. She calls for her daughter, “Lucy! Are you ready to go?”

The tiny blonde comes barreling into the room, knocking into her mother like usual. “Hi, Lucas,” she says, waving.

“Hi, Miss Lucy,” he tells her, stooping down to her level. “Are you excited for us to go to dinner?” She aggressively nods her head, beaming at him. “Well, we better head out!”

Quickly, Maya grabs her bag, and they head out to hail a cab, Lucas giving directions to the kid-friendly restaurant he picked out for dinner.

The whole ride there, Lucy talks up a storm. She tells Lucas all about her first grade teacher, friends, and even about the class goldfish.

(“His name is Rocko,” Lucy tells him, grinning widely. “I helped pick his name!”)

Once they enter the restaurant and get seated and order their food, Maya gives Lucas the look. Go time.

“Lucy, hon,” Maya starts, getting her daughter’s attention. “Mommy wants to talk to you, can you listen for a few minutes?”

The little girl immediately pauses her coloring on the kid’s menu. “Okay, Mommy.”

Maya takes a deep breath, and then feels Lucas grab her hand beneath the table. She smiles briefly at him, then says, “You know how your friends have a Mommy and a Daddy?”

“Not all my friends,” Lucy replies smartly, “Jamie has two mommies!”

The two adults laugh. “Yes,” Maya replies, “some people have a Mommy and a Daddy, or two Mommies or two Daddies.”

“But I only have a Mommy,” she says. “You always said I don’t have a Daddy.”

Maya’s heart breaks a little. “Well, Lucy, you actually do have a Daddy…” her voice starts to shake as she finally gets the words out, “you see, honey, Lucas is your Daddy.”

“Really?” Lucy asks, eyes lighting up. “I have a Daddy? Can I call you Daddy?”

She catches Lucas wiping away a stray tear before grinning, answering, “I would love it if you called me Daddy, Lucy, Only if you want to.”

The little girl beams, “Okay, Daddy. I want to.”

When Lucy was born, Maya never would have imagined that she would hear her daughter call Lucas her dad. She thought it would never happen after the way she left things with Lucas. However, years later, she’s hearing just that, and it is music to her ears.

“Lucy, I do have a question for you,” Lucas says, and Maya is unsure of what is to follow. “If it is okay with you, I want to spend more time with you and your Mommy. Would you like that?”

“Hmmm,” Lucy thinks, “I would like that. May I please color now?”

Maya snorts, only her daughter would be more concerned with drawing than finding out about her father. Typical five year old. “Yes, Lucy. You can color.”

While their daughter turns back to her art, Lucas turns to her, “Well, that went well.”

“As well as we could expect,” Maya answers, leaning her head onto Lucas’ shoulder. “You know, you’re a parent now. Your life is about to change forever.”

“Correct, Shortstack: We’re parents. Bring it on.”

“Challenge accepted, Huckleberry.”

#my writing #lucaya #girl meets world #lucaya fanfic #lucaya fanfiction #lucas friar #maya hart #wow this took forever #but i liked writing it even tho it took over a year

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cottonblush · 5 years

Text

blooming days | pjs

❧ word count: 3,418

❧ genre: floof

❧ notes: i kinda hate this?? but it’s whatever. i’ll be working on more bulleted list scenarios soon (hopefully lmao). i have my ap stats test tomorrow and i literally feel like i’ll get a 1 even though i got 5s on my practice tests but imma go crazy anyway. also i started bujo-ing my ideas for my fics and i have these cute stickers that remind me of hamtaro!! anyway, i hope everyone has a nice day and is happy and healthy. don’t forget to drink lots of water. i actually started drinking it more often and i feel a lot better! ty for coming to my ted talk! if anyone has any upcoming exams, good luck! uh also p.s: i probably spelled some stuff wrong but several of my reference sites were saying different things. p.p.s: this is unedited whoops

❧ parts: planting, budding, ---

The bustling sounds of the city slowly fade into background noise as Jisung finds his way back home after work, one foot slowly being placed in front of the other to form a peaceful saunter. He stops when he reaches an intersection not too far away from his street, eyes coming to rest on the soft glow of the neon sign that the neighborhood ramen shop has recently added. The light emanating from the quaint little restaurant is one of the few light sources that dots the street this late on a cold, wintry night as this one.

“It won’t hurt to get some on the way,” the boy mutters to himself, already stepping into the small, warmly lit restaurant, as if he would have needed any convincing in the first place.

He’s greeted by the familiar face of the ahjussi who owns the place. Eyes quickly scanning over the menu, he settles on the newest item that the store has to offer: fire noodles. He tells the older man what he would like, figuring it’ll be just like the processed noodles sold at the store he works at, before he strolls over to his usual seat by the window.

The young man turns around to resume people-watching the many teens and adults getting home at this time as well, releasing a soft sigh, placing his head in his left hand, and drumming his fingers against the soft skin of his face. The sun is setting, the last rays of marmalade tinted light streaming through the window. Jisung takes this time to remind himself that this is the part where Jaemin would tell him to take a selfie and get that “golden hour glow.” He almost does, but at that moment, a bowl of steaming noodles covered in a glistening, ruby colored sauce is placed in front of him.

The owner warily says when he finally comes around with the noodles, “It’s pretty spicy, just so you know.” However, Jisung brushes this off, telling the gentleman that he’s used to spicy food, and digs in, enjoying the familiar tingling feeling on his tongue that fire noodles tend to bring. The wet, pink muscle peaks out of his mouth and lap up any sauce that happens to escape.

After a while, the dull tingling turns into a burning sting all over Jisung’s mouth and salty tears start to well up in his eyes. Before he knows it, Jisung is full-on crying with ears full of the sounds of his own sniffles and doesn’t even notice the old lady that comes up to sit next to him.

The woman looks to be in her upper 60’s and when she gently pats Jisung’s shoulder to provide a sense of comfort, he recognizes her as the owner of the flower shop just next door. She rests her chin in her other hand and lets out a dreamy sigh. “Ah, I remember the feeling of young love,” she says.

This makes the young man turn to her, eyebrows knitted in confusion. He tries to explain, tone flustered and face quickly turning a bright shade of red, “I think you’re misunderstanding the situation. I’m not in-”

“Nonsense,” she replies, “I know just by the look on your face. You were thinking about someone special, weren’t you? And you were looking at those pretty gardenias in that vase. Everyone knows that’s the symbol for a secret love. Have you not told them yet? I think it’s best to just rip off the band-aid and get it over with, in my experience at least.”

Jisung wants to tell the lady that kids don’t just memorize the meanings of flowers, but he thinks that one: that might discourage her seeing as she runs a flower shop and seems to care a lot about it, and two: it’s a little rude. Instead, he puts on a calm façade and reassures her, “There really has been a misunderstanding here. I wasn’t really looking at those flowers on purpose. And I just ate some spicy noodles, so it looked like I was crying.”

The old lady slowly gets up and hums, “Whatever you say,” before going to place her own order. Jisung takes this as his queue to leave and gathers his things. Just before he places a hand on the door, he takes one last glance at the little flowers in the clear vase, wondering if maybe the lady is on to something.

It clearly sticks with him because later that night as he lays in his bed, covers pulled up and lights turned off, Jisung can’t seem to take his mind off the pretty white blossoms. For some reason, your face comes to mind, unknowingly bringing a small smile to his visage. His eyes slowly flutter shut, little memories of you playing against the back of his lids as if he’s in a dark movie theater watching a montage of the two of you.

Halloween is quickly approaching, now less than a week away, and the gang (Jisung, you, Chenle, Haechan, and Renjun) has decided to get some pumpkins from a farm not too far away from town. As soon as you arrive, you and Haechan run ahead of the others, both trying to find the perfect pumpkin.

Jisung, on the other hand, chooses to take his time, leisurely walking alongside Chenle and Renjun as they discuss something about Chinese traditions around this time of the year. The leaves started to fall the week before, so for each step that Jisung takes, he hears a satisfying crunch beneath his shoes. The weather is still fairly pleasant, not yet to the point where you can see your breath in the air.

Sauntering through the gates to the pumpkin patch, the kids are greeted by the sight of rows upon rows of vibrant orange pumpkins, some small and cute, others larger and optimal for carving. Not even a couple of minutes in, everyone hears a high pitched yelp and looks over to find that Chenle has managed to trip on literally nothing but air, ending up face down on the ground and crushing several mini pumpkins beneath him. Renjun can’t help but snicker, leaving Jisung to help the poor, pouting boy back up to his feet.

Jisung is in the middle of helping Chenle wipe pumpkin guts off his shirt (that’s probably worth more than all of his life savings) when he notices you and Haechan bickering out of the corner of his eye.

“Dude, I totally saw it first,” you argue.

Haechan deadpans and says, “Sure, Y/n. And I’m actually Thor from The Avengers.”

You don’t hesitate to scoff at that and say, “More like Loki.”

The two of you are in your own world, not even noticing that Jisung, Renjun, and a now clean Chenle are sitting on the ground and acting like they’re watching the final showdown in an action movie.

Haechan picks up the pumpkin you two are fighting over, one of the largest in the patch that has no blemishes at all, and sets it behind him so that he can guard it. It turns out to be the wrong move because without a moment of hesitation, you launch a roundhouse kick into his side, watching as he flails on his way down to the ground. You quickly grab the prized pumpkin and run toward the owner of the farm.

Your voice is boisterous and full of glee as you call out, “Excuse me, sir. I’d like this one!” The sound of your laugh follows soon after when you see that Haechan is hot on your tail.

It’s cheesy, but as you get farther and farther away, Jisung tries to imprint the sound your laughter into his mind, wanting to save it for whenever he is feeling down.

II.

“Honestly, I don’t know how you get yourself in these situations, Y/n,” Renjun says, mirth lacing his voice as he wraps a bandage around your ankle. You’re slouched on a stool in the nurse’s office, leaning forward so you can observe the blonde-haired boy.

Renjun is the nurse’s assistant, which means that he sees you quite often given how clumsy you are. This time, you’ve managed to twist your ankle simply walking from your class to Jisu’s so you could compare grades on a recent test. Jisung happens to be there when it happens, so he helps you over to the nurse’s office and sits next to you, carefully doting over you until Renjun arrives.

You huff and cross your arms, rebutting, “Give me a break! I’m telling you one of the tiles in the hallway is uneven. I’m not that clumsy that I just trip over the air.”

At this, Renjun coughs into his elbow, muttering, “Yes you are.”

Jisung can’t deny that he feels a little twinge of something as he sees you playfully slap Renjun’s shoulder and give him a hearty laugh. He tries to laugh along, but it turns out to be an awkward chuckle.

Renjun turns to him with lips quirked upward and says, “Dude, you don’t even know how often she comes here. I’m surprised she’s not just a pile of bones at this point.”

Feeling plenty attacked, you say, “That’s it! I’m telling the administration that the literal nurse’s assistant is out here bullying me. And next time, I’ll just suffer on my own instead of coming to you.”

When the aforementioned assistant raises his hand to pinch your cheek and tell you to stop pouting, Jisung is finally able to identify the feeling bubbling up in the pit of his stomach: envy.

III.

It’s probably well past midnight and Jisung has just fallen asleep. The sound of crickets chirping flows through the tiny opening of the window he forgot to close. His desk lamp is still on and the fan of his laptop is still softly humming. He’s woken up with a startle when the sound of his ringtone (which Chenle had recently set to the original Pokémon theme song in honor of the new movie) blares out, reverbing against the walls of his small bedroom. He’s about to throw his phone out the window when he squints at the screen and notices that it’s you and it’s a facetime video call.

The video is blurry at first, but the sound of your voice as his name falls from your lips in a shaky sigh is surprisingly clear. You aren’t crying, but every now and then, you let out a tiny sniffle. In addition, even with the low resolution of the video call, Jisung can see salty tears pooling up against your eyelids.

“I’m so nervous, Jisung,” you say shakily, “I don’t know what to do.”

Your phone is propped up against your wall or something on your desk, so the teen gets a full view of you as you drop your face in your hands and rub your eyes aggressively.

Jisung urges you to calm down, asking what’s wrong but being careful not to be too pushy. You explain that you feel like you’re going to fail the upcoming history test.

“I’ve tried to study, but everything is just going in one ear and out the other,” you explain.

The young man assures you that you’ll be fine, but when you shake your head and vehemently deny it, he tries a different approach. Giving you a couple of minutes to calm down, he offers to help you review for it.

And so he does. He starts from the beginning, carefully explaining each topic covered in class and making sure you’re paying attention. By the time you’ve covered the entire chapter, you’re resting your chin on your arm and gazing sleepily at your phone screen. After you’ve let out what Jisung thinks is your thousandth yawn, he tells you it’s time to sleep.

He packs away his notes and textbooks and is about to bid you goodnight when he notices that you’ve fallen asleep already. He freezes in his place, eyes not able to move from the way that your eyelashes gently fan against your cheeks and the way that several strands of hair have fallen to cover your face. He notices the heavy, dark eyebags that surround your eyes and the small amount of drool that’s already starting to escape your mouth.

Jisung quickly snaps out of his daze and presses the red button that ends the call, sitting back against his desk chair and closing his eyes. He’s much too tired to move to his bed and is probably bordering on a state of delirium, but he realizes that your face, no matter how sloppy or tired, is a sight he could get lost in any day at any time. And with that revelation, his mind descends into sleep while a soft smile rests on his lips.

IV.

Jisung is stuffing his face with cheesy tteokbokki when his phone lights up with a several new notifications.

The first one is an email from his teacher, probably a response to a question he asked the day before. The second is a reminder that he has an appointment to get a haircut in a few days. And the most recent is a snapchat notification telling him that you’ve sent him a snap.

He sets down his utensils and picks up his phone, quickly unlocking it and opening the app. Tapping on your name with the red square next to it, he’s greeted with a picture of you with a small white puppy tucked under your chin.

The caption of the picture reads, “Moomin is doing great but he misses you :(”

To add some context, Moomin is a the stray dog that you, Jisung, and Renjun found one day on the way back after school. Of course, since Renjun “found him first,” he argued that he would get to pick a name.

Not even thinking about it, Jisung takes a screenshot of the picture, heart melting just a little bit at the sight of your smiling face pressed up against Moomin. But then the ten second timer expires and he’s greeted with the sight of two blue arrows, one overlapping the other. He drops his phone and covers his face with his hands, fingers split so that he could peep at his phone. He gets a text message from you not a moment later and he thinks he’s about to get exposed. His whole form is shaking with nervousness as he checks your text.

However, Jisung literally wants to bang his head on a wall as he sees that you’ve just sent him a picture of Moomin (this time without your face in the frame) and a message that reads, “If u wanted a pic of moomin so bad you should’ve just asked lol”

Only the gods will ever know how you can be so oblivious at times, but Jisung is glad. Now, he has a cute picture of you and a cute picture of Moomin, and he’s saved himself a ton of embarrassment. He also isn’t complaining because he finds it quite endearing when you’re dense (which happens a lot).

“Jeno, have I mentioned that you and Hana would look really good together? And she’s super smart just like you!”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, you should totally ask her out or something.”

It’s another regular day, and another occasion on with you are trying to set Jeno up with one of your many friends that are head over heels for the poor boy.

“I’m not really interested in her, though. Sorry, Y/n,” Jeno says awkwardly while scratching the back of his neck.

“You haven’t even given her a chance though,” you say, knowing that you’re beginning to sound childish.

At this moment, Chenle and Jisung run up to the two of you, asking what’s up.

You explain, “Jeno keeps turning down all of the friends I try to set him up with.”

You’re expecting Chenle to at least give you a sympathetic nod or something, but he releases a loud laugh instead.

In between his chuckles, he manages to say, “Are you kidding, Y/n? Jeno and Jaemin have been dating since my Halloween party.”

“What? What the actual heck?! Jeno! How could you not tell me?”

You stomp ahead of the trio, arms folded and head facing the ground. Jisung jogs to catch up with you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and assuring you that they aren’t even that public with their relationship anyway.

You continue to sulk, asking, “Am I really that oblivious though?”

Recalling many previous experiences in which you were very much oblivious, Jisung decides it’s best not to answer, causing you to pout even more than you already are. And while Jisung thinks it’s a cute expression, he’d much rather see you smile. So he spends the rest of the day trying to cheer you up, spending the rest of his allowance on snacks at the tuck shop.

At the end of the day, his wallet is weeping and he’s never craved the red bean bun that you’re eating more than he does now, but it’s worth it to see that your spirits are lifted.

VI.

It’s the first snow of the season and the gang is out playing in the park, reveling in the fact that they have no assignments or after school classes for the day. You’re sitting on a swing, sipping some hot chocolate and swaying back and forth. You inhale deeply and let out a sigh, watching as your breath vanishes into the air.

Jaemin runs up to you and asks to try some of your drink, probably thinking it’s some type of coffee. Of course, you comply, holding your steaming steel tumbler out to the young man. He takes one sip and his nose scrunches up.

“What is that? Oh my god,” he says.

“It’s peppermint hot chocolate, Nana. Not everyone can drink coffee 24/7 like you do.”

“Peppermint?! Dude, gross. The only things that go in hot chocolate are whipped cream and cinnamon.”

You shoot Jaemin an incredulous look and ask the rest of the group, “Shut up. Peppermint is superior, right guys?”

The rest of the boys are too busy sliding down the slides or trying to make snowballs out of the thin layer of snow that’s on the ground, so the only response you get is a couple of careless shrugs.

A couple of days later, Jisung is sitting in the convenience store once again and reminiscing about the good old days like any high school student does. He remembers you saying something about peppermint and subconsciously starts perusing the store, briefly recalling that they just got a shipment of Christmas themed air fresheners.

His eyes light up when he finds the peppermint scented ones nestled at the back of the display. He grabs one and takes it to the register, trying to convince himself that he wants to make his room smell nice and not that he’s going to use it to spray on his school uniform.

However, several hours later, he finds himself spraying the canister into his closet, coating all his clothes with the soft scent of peppermint candy.

You take notice of it immediately the next day, telling Jisung that he smells really nice, and his face turns a bright vermillion.

Chenle chortles and elbows his side, saying, “Yeah, Jisung. You smell sooooo good! What is it again? Peppermint? Isn’t that a coincidence?”

Jisung proceeds to shove Chenle against a set of lockers and cover the loud-mouthed boy’s mouth with one of his hands, ignoring the way you raise an eyebrow in question of his behavior.

He’d probably die if he got found out, but he’s glad you like it and will probably continue to use his new “cologne” well into the summer seasons.

As Jisung finally descends into a state of light slumber, a warm feeling spreading across his body. It’s like he’s sitting by a fireplace wrapped up in a fluffy blanket, wearing the fancy slippers that he stole from hotel that Chenle took him to one time. It’s like the sun is shining down on his face on a cloudless day. Every memorable instance of you (which is basically every single one) is coming together, each one like a petal of a delicate flower.

He doesn’t know it yet, but that metaphorical flower will soon be in full bloom, and with it will come a realization that he may or may not be ready for.

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trouvelle · 5 years

Text

Emogust 21.08 — Time Travel

A/N: lmao ok so I didn’t realize that I accidentally skipped this one. DCMK Emogust 2019 — Time Travel! It’s a continuation of the Kaizuha Twisted Fairytale / tangled!AU :’D @mintchocolateleaves @sup-poki

Kaito can feel the sweat beading on his own forehead and trailing down his temples and neck, and prays that the white collar of his shirt won’t be stained. Even so, he will persevere; he refuses to give up just because he’s tired—he’s supposed to either bring the princess back or die, not stop just because he’s tired. So he continues his walk down the dark and jagged pathway. He’d heard from some villagers about this magical cave that is supposed to take them immediately to the Enchanted Lake. That’s the equivalent of a day worth of journey up and down several valleys and through one very horrifying Spooky Forest, of which is reported to be where beastly wolves reside. He had already went through the terrible experience of walking in the Spooky Forest on his way to rescue his princess, and now on his way back, he would do anything to avoid that forest at all costs. The princess, however, refuses to go through the cave and insists on taking the route based on the map.

“We don’t know what kind of magic is in the cave!” Kazuha argues, but Kaito is determined to never take a step into the cursed forest ever again.

“Well,” Kaito says after a moment of consideration, “We can just meet at the Enchanted Lake.”

Kazuha groans, “Aw, come on. I’m sure the Spooky Forest ain’t all that spooky!”

“I’m supposed to be protecting you here, okay? And I can’t protect you if we go in separate ways!” Kaito puts a hand on Kazuha’s shoulder, trying to reason with her. Really, this headstrong princess has been doing nothing but test his patience all journey long.

“I don’t need you and your protection anyway. I can take care of myself.” Kazuha huffs and turns around to start making her way down the other path, threatening to leave Kaito at the mouth what seemed like a dimly lit cave. “Just don’t come crying to me if you had turned into a.. a frog or something inside the magical cave. See ya later at the Enchanted Lake.” are her last words to him.

Okay, 1) No one mentioned how the pathway inside the cave seems to be narrowing down with each step he takes. It’s dark and tiny and he feels like he’s being crunched inside. 2) Everyone says that it’s cold inside a cave. But why the Hell is it so warm in here? Not only is it small, narrow and dark in here, it’s also frustratingly hot and humid. He’s suffocating.

As he recalls what he’s been through the past few weeks, his mood just became more sour. He’s been plagued with all the bad luck one could have in a lifetime. It probably would’ve been easier if only he wasn’t alone in this dark, dingy cave. It’s all that stubborn princess’ fault, he complains, why couldn’t she just be more agreeable? Why did he have to be stuck with her anyway? She’s probably the reason for all his recent misfortune.

His steps are getting slower and weaker, the humidity of the cave intensifying his fatigue. Just before he reaches his breaking point, when dark spots are clouding his vision, a sudden gust of wind came from the back, effectively throwing him forward. A shocked scream rips out of his parched throat. The last thing he saw is nothing but darkness.

Kaito’s eyelids flutter open and he sees a huge, golden chandelier overhead as he blinks his haziness away. Finally some light, he thinks, before his eyes widen and he scrambles to his feet immediately. How is that even possible? Is this part of the cave’s magical power? He whips his head around only to realize that his surroundings are different. He’s no longer in that cave with total absence of sunlight. Instead, the room is illuminated by sunshine streaming in from the huge floor-to-ceiling windows. It looks almost ethereal.

He looks down at his body and notices that he’s been stripped of his all-white knight suit; he’s wearing a white long-sleeved shirt with a blue sleeveless tunic over it, grayish blue pants and brown boots with their cuffs folded. Whoever gave me this change of outfit has taste, he whistled. But where is this?

He stands up, almost stumbling from the vertigo that hits him, before he discovers he’s not alone in the room. It’s someone’s bedroom, he realizes, or a nursery. Because instead of any beds in sight, there is only one single golden crib. His curiosity got the better of him and he wobbles his way down the room. Once he gets there, he finds for himself the tiniest baby he’s ever seen, comfortably bundled up underneath a tiny lavender blanket. However, he notices another strange fact: he doesn’t even reach the top frame of the crib.

“So I’m the size of a toddler now?” he laughs humorlessly. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s getting pretty freaked out by now. Based on his height, he supposes he’s not even five yet. Well, at least he’s not a frog, so Kazuha is wrong.

A high-pitched wail pulls him away from his thoughts. Kaito peers in between the rails to see that the baby now has its tiny mouth wide open and emitting powerful cries, eyes and nose scrunched up. He extends his arm through the railing in an attempt to maybe touch and soothe the baby back to sleep. But.. his arm is now too short.

He looks all around him panickedly, looking for anything that can help calm the baby down. He fears for his sanity. All the crying and wailing is going to drive him deaf. He freezes in his tracks when the giant double door is pushed open from the outside. And before he knows it, he is swept off the floor and is now dangling in the air. He spins his head around to see who is holding him so high and he is prepared to kick, wriggle, anything to get back down to the ground—what he’s not prepared for is to stare right into his father’s face. Which he does, in shock.

“Dad?!” he breathes.

“I see you’ve found your sister.” says his father with a smile.

Wait, a sister?

He whips his head around with bulging eyes to look at the baby, who is now cradled on a woman’s arms.

By now, the baby has stopped crying. Kaito quickly uses this precious moment to clear his head and sort out everything that’s happening because his mind is in an absolute state of frenzy. Father is here, he lists first, and I’ve been transformed into a child... “I’ve traveled back in time!!” he exclaims in horror. Either that, or the magical cave sent him to a ridiculous alternate universe, he concludes.

The woman who is gently rocking the baby back and forth looks at him strangely, “What are you talking about, son?”

Son?? She—wa, wait—what?

He’s lived with his father his whole life and never once has he seen his mother. Not in any pictures or painting, not even through any stories. He used to find it strange that his father claimed he didn’t have any pictures of his mom, but he just ever questioned it. He thought he might just be adopted. But if this woman here is actually his mother, then..?

That is a lot of information to get in thirty seconds.

He doesn’t even know if he remembers to blink or breathe. He has also forgotten that his father is still holding him. Soon, he is gently brought down to the floor as the woman who might be his mom crouches beside him, bringing down the baby in her arms.

“Kaito, say hi to Rapunzel.” Rapunzel?

“Rapunzel?!” He yelps, but it comes out more like a shriek instead.

“Yes, that’s the name of your baby sister.” says his mother, and she’s beaming with pride as she directs her focus back to the baby.

And at that exact moment, the baby’s eyelids flew open, revealing two bright green orbs that bore into his. Maybe there’s more than one Rapunzel out there, maybe this is a different Rapunzel and Kazuha is another Rapunzel. But he knows those lively eyes quite well by now, and they look exactly like Kazuha’s.

This is Kazuha? The bloody-minded, iron-willed princess whom he falsely rescued from her tower a few days ago? Very well, he can see the similarity. The way baby Rapunzel was crying earlier shows just how difficult she’s going to grow up to be. But wait wait wait—so Kazuha is his sister?

Kaito feels like screaming at all the newfound information he just received. He is just about to, when he sees from the corner of his eyes that baby Kazuha is raising her chubby hand at him. Instinctively, he shows baby Kazuha his pointy finger, which the latter grasped enthusiastically. Babies are freakishly tiny, he thinks. But from the way baby Kazuha’s enormous, doll-like eyes light up as she plays with his finger and the occasional high-pitched laughter she produces, he decides, that babies are extremely adorable. Or maybe just her. Well that is, until baby Kazuha reaches up to rub her tiny hand all over Kaito’s face.

“Kaito,” his mother says, as his father’s hands comes to rest on both his shoulders, “You’re a big boy now. And as Rapunzel’s big brother, you have to protect her, can you do that for me?”

Before he gets the chance to say anything, there are sharp footsteps coming from the hallway, rapidly approaching the door. His father quickly pulls him up to his arms, holding him over his shoulder. Meanwhile, his mother swings baby Kazuha away from him to set her down in the crib, and turns to face Kaito and his father. “That must be the King. You have to leave now!”

After pressing a kiss to his forehead, his mother rushes to one of the windows and pushes it open. “Go,” she orders, “I’ll see you soon.” His father nods, gives her one last longing look and jumps off.

The last thing he remembers is the clear blue sky outside.

Kazuha stops just outside of the Spooky Forest, ignoring the tremor in her feet. She tries to ignore her increasingly fast heartbeat and disappointment in her chest when she realizes that there’s no way around the forest.

Perhaps she should’ve listened to Kaito and went into the cave with him instead.

“No. I can survive just fine without him,” she mutters to herself as she marches into the forest. Most of the trees in there are quite old, some barely having any leaves on their branches. They look like bony hands, she thinks. And their shadows are worse, they look like they could extend to grab her from every direction.

She clicks her tongue and listens carefully for any indication that there might be another person in there. “So much for being courageous,” mumbles Kazuha to herself as she sprints further into the forest, eager to find the exit as soon as she can. She doesn’t need anyone. She can survive just fine. And she definitely don’t need anyone to protect her.

It turns out, she does need Kaito, Kazuha realizes with a rumbling stomach as she slowly scales the ground for any food to be eaten. Growing up, she had food brought over by Mother all the time. Sometimes she brought ingredients to be cooked. But she was never taught to look for food by herself. That, and due to her lack of experience being outside the tower, Kazuha doesn’t know which things are safely edible and which are not. All these time, Kaito has been the one in charge of getting them food. When they aren’t near villages or towns, he hunts for food in the wilderness. He knows which fruits and berries are poisonous and which are safe. Kazuha, unfortunately, does not.

It’s not as sunny as when she enters the forest, now that the sun is already starting to go down beyond the mountain. The shadows all around the forest have been amplified and Kazuha is feeling really uneasy by now. Another growl from her stomach decides for her; she hasn’t eaten since the pie they had in the village yesterday, and it’s now been a full day.

Suppressing her hunger, she shuffles along the trail as fast as her feet can take her. Maybe I can go to a nearby village where I can ask for dinner once I get out of this forest, she determines. While the forest is scary enough in the daytime, now once the sun is beginning to set, there are loud growls seemingly from all directions around her. Kazuha is undoubtedly spooked.

In the midst of ignoring the growls, and the scary swaying of the tree branches, and the long wolf-like howls that would’ve otherwise sent chills down her spine, she sees a clearing in front of her. That must be the exit, where the Enchanted Lake is! Kaito must’ve been waiting for a long time, she realizes guiltily.

She screeches to a halt right by the lake and collapses down to her feet, trying to regain a steady breathing. After composing herself, she scans around her surroundings and sees no one else in sight. Strange, she thinks, if Kaito took the shortcut through that cave, he should’ve already been here for many hours. Did he leave?

Kazuha plops back down to the soft grass by the bank in devastation as her fatigue finally catches up to her. It is getting really dark now, and she’s not sure if she can continue to walk any further without getting lost. She tries to will herself to crawl to a nearby tree as a shelter just in case it’s going to rain later in the night, but to no success. Instead, she feels her eyelids growing heavier and heavier, and her mind goes blank.

Kaito’s eyes soften when he spots the princess nestled up on the grass. The sight reminds him of baby Kazuha in the crib, sleeping soundly like he’d witnessed earlier. The whole ordeal might or might not have been real. He could’ve been really sent back in time, or it could’ve just been an illusion that the cave has him trapped in. After all, the cave isn’t called the magical cave for nothing. Maybe he’ll be able to think about it with a clearer head tomorrow. Or better yet, not think about it at all and simply forget everything.

With a sigh, he crouches down next to her and lies on his back, eyes up facing the dark sky. They’ve had a long and exhausting day, both of them. Within minutes, he too, falls asleep under the tender light of the moon, the soft night breeze ruffling their hair like a lullaby.

#DCMKEmogust2019 #DCMK #Kuroba Kaito #Kaito Kid #Toyama Kazuha #Kaizuha #just hear me out first #and I've been thinking well Kaito and Kazuha's names both start with K and A lmao #It's probably not the best reasoning but I'm just thinking that they would have great sibling dynamics no?#and we literally have zero information regarding Kazuha's mom..??#also it's just me throwing in a bunch of fairytale-ish stuff in there #so if you don't like lighthearted fics I'm genuinely sorry uwu

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hajimesh · 5 years

Text

Unspoken Words (3/3)

Word Count: 2k-ish

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: It had been months since the last time you saw him. What were the odds you’d find him again and not alone?

A/N: Final part! sorry for the delay but i kinda forgot about this lmao, i thought i had already posted it. Anyway, i hope you enjoy it. feedback is appreciated :)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Masterlist

A month later you saw Loki again.

Tony, being a friend of yours just like the rest of the avengers, invited you to a party he was throwing for New Year’s Eve. You weren’t planning on going, knowing that it was very likely that you’d meet him again and with Bella hanging on his arm. But you ran into Thor the day before and he assured you he wouldn’t be there.

“Lady Y/N you must believe what I say. He isn’t attending the feast, they decided to take a trip for the holidays and won’t get back until next week.”

He seemed pretty keen on making you go to the party. In your right mind you would’ve noticed that something wasn’t right, but you were still hurt and trusted him.

After the incident at the bookstore, Thor had felt extremely guilty about the whole thing. Once you stepped out of the place he realized his mistake and Loki didn’t take long to tell him.

“You moron! You just blew away the only chance I had to get her back!” To say Loki was mad was an understatement. His little brother was livid, his nose flared and his eyes had a wild rage on them.

“Loki, listen!” Thor called out for his brother once he saw him leaving the bookstore. He quickly sped up his pace to catch up with him. “Perhaps we can mend this! I’ll make things right!” Thor was frantic, he knew he had to clean this mess.

Turning abruptly, Loki glared at his brother. “Oh really? And how exactly is that you plan on doing that?” Loki’s voice had a threatening tone in it successfully scaring Thor. He had never seen his brother like that, so furious and hopeless at the same time.

“I’ll talk to her! The man of iron is throwing a feast for the new year, I will make sure she attends.” Loki seemed to think about it, he closed his eyes and shook his head.

“It won’t work, she knows I will be there and then she will refuse to go.”

“She will be there brother.” Seeing Loki hesitant broke Thor’s heart. “I promise.”

* * * *

You had just finished getting ready. Looking at your reflection in the mirror made you smile. You were wearing a black turtleneck tucked in a mini skirt with thighs on and a coat. You felt comfy and warm but your stomach kept churning in nervousness. You knew Loki wasn’t attending, but you couldn’t help and wish he would make an appearance. You were lying to yourself saying that you didn’t want to see him, of course you did. Just... not with her.

Once you got your boots on, you stepped out of your home and made your way to the tower.

* * * *

Loki couldn’t stop pacing and playing with his hands. Thor looked at him in amusement but he truly wished you would stay true to your word and come to the party. He already felt bad but seeing his little brother in such distress made him feel even worse.

“What’s up with him?”

Tony Stark was making his rounds, making sure everyone had a drink on their hands, when he saw the Asgardians. One pacing and the other frowning.

“Stark!” Thor announced aloud and then noticed Tony’s hands holding alcohol. “Give me that.” Snatching the drinks, Thor grabbed one for himself and gave the other to Loki. The latter drowning it in less that two seconds.

With a look of disgust, Loki turned towards his brother. “This is disgusting, don’t you have Asgardian mead with you? I need something stronger.”

Tony raised his brows in surprise. He didn’t recall ever seeing Loki act like this. “What’s gotten your panties in a twist, reindeer games?”

Thor opened his eyes and rushed to answer him. “Have you seen Lady Y/N?”

Knitting his brows Tony rubbed his chin, deep in thought.

“I think I saw her ordering a drink at the bar, right at the– HEY! What the hell is wrong with him?” Tony was cut short when Loki walked past him, accidentally rubbing his shoulder on his making him loose his balance.

Loki was frantic.

He knew the bar was at the other side of the room and there were a lot of people standing on his way, making his frustration grow. He tried to excuse himself and control his need to push everyone aside in order to find you, but he was better than that. You had made him better than that.

His heart rate flew to the skies when he saw you resting your elbow on one of the chairs at the bar, talking with Steve and Natasha. She was pouring drinks, acting as a bartender while chatting with you and Steve. She was the first one to notice him, sending Loki a light nod of her head and excusing herself, walking away while dragging a confused Steve away from the bar.

He saw you sigh and look down at your drink. You gulped it in one go and as you placed the glass at the bar, you turned to make your way out of there. Perhaps you could try to find Thor. Loki saw your movements and decided he would not let you go, not again. Walking up to you he noticed your outfit and laughed, his laugh making you look towards him and open your eyes in surprise.

“I believe I found myself a twin.” His nervousness was eating him alive, but he tried to mask it with a joke. After all, what he said was true. You were matching.

Without your coat on, you were left on your black turtleneck and when you took a glance at his clothes you noticed he was also wearing a black turtleneck. Only that he had black dress pants instead.

You were dressed similar just like those couples who matched their outfits on purpose. Fucking great.

Groaning to yourself you look up at his eyes again. “Seriously?”

He laughs and motions for you to sit down at the bar stool. You accept reluctantly.

“You look beautiful, nonetheless. Black always looked good on you.”

You feel your cheeks getting warmer and a tiny smile appears on your lips. “Thank you. It always looked good on you too.”

Loki smiled widely but all his confidence was thrown to the window when he looked at your eyes. It felt like he had been punched in the gut, the air left him and he couldn’t breath. The fairy lights made your eyes gleam and captivate him even more, while the dim lights in the room gave you an aura of mystery. He was deeply lost in your eyes and lips.

You frowned, suddenly feeling self conscious about your face. Loki kept staring at you and you tried to avoid his eyes by playing with the fabric of your skirt. But you couldn’t avoid him forever. It took only one second to look into his eyes and fall. His pupils were dilated, making the green in his eyes retract in a ring. His lips were slightly parted and the shadows made his jaw and cheekbones stand out more. You were at a loss for words and so was he.

Then, suddenly everyone started to cheer loudly.

Turning your head towards the noice, you saw Tony standing next to the DJ holding a microphone. You looked at Loki in confusion but he only shrugged his shoulders.

“There’s only one minute left of the year! Please, everyone grab a drink and come to the dance floor for the countdown.” Tony made a hand gesture that made every waiter in the room give drinks to the guests.

Loki grabbed two flutes from a passing waiter and handed one to you. You accepted it and took a small sip.

“Should we go there?” Loki motioned for the dance floor where everyone was gathering. You nodded and he offered you his hand.

You took it and he guided you until you were standing in the middle of the room. You could feel the buzz and excitement of everyone around you as they waited for the new year.

Suddenly, you were aware of the New Years’ Eve tradition. A kiss. You knew that Loki knew because you had done it last year.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” You couldn’t stand it anymore, curiosity was eating you alive.

Loki stiffened and then sighed. He looked embarrassed and his cheeks got red.

“There’s no girlfriend, she… she doesn’t exist.” His voice was soft, tender as if afraid of scaring you.

Your brows scrunched up in confusion your mouth opening to ask what he meant but you were interrupted.

“It was me, Lady Y/N.” Thor’s voice caught you by surprise and you got even more confused.

“Thor? What do you mean?” Looking back and forth between the two brothers you could see the shame and embarrassment in their postures.

“Loki taught me how to cast illusions, for the battlefield. But when we were at the bookstore, I casted an illusion on myself so I could get a reaction out of you.” With your mouth agape, you stared at Thor in disbelief. “Loki didn’t know I was planning on doing it, so please don’t be mad at him. It’s me who’s at fault.”

You looked at Loki for confirmation but his head was hanging low, staring at the floor. “It was my fault too, I played along with it because, like Thor, I wanted to see your reaction. But know how deeply sorry I am, I was being childish. Forgive me, well… us?”

Your head was shaking slightly. Questions flooded your mind but only one was clear enough for you to say it aloud.

“Why?” A mere whisper but Loki caught it. This was Thor’s cue to leave, leaving the two of you to sort it out.

“Because I regret leaving you! Do you have an idea of how it feels to find a new book or a good film but not being able to share it with you? I-I still love you and I’m so so sorry for what I did.” His eyes stared at you, trying to make you see the truth. But you still had your doubts.

“Trust me, I know how it feels.” Your words felt like a dagger on his gut. He closed his eyes and a few tears fell from his eyes.

You felt your heart clench at the sight in front of you. “Why did you do it?” His eyes opened and looked confused. “Breaking up with me. Why?”

“I was being dumb. I read a post on the internet that said how I didn’t deserve you. A monster, the alien who attacked earth didn’t deserve happiness and that included you.” Taking deep breaths he tried to calm his breaths, tears streaming down his face. “You were always so good to me and I didn’t want to keep you from being with a better man, but truth is I’m selfish and I want you with me. You taught me how to love, how to be happy and I can’t begin to explain you how much I love you. So I don’t care what anyone says, I belong to you, I always have and always will.”

His rapid breaths were fanning over your face, his eyes were red just like his nose. In that moment you knew you had to be with him, no matter what. He loved you and you loved him and that was enough for you.

Cheering and screams got you out of your daze and you realized it was already midnight. You looked around and everyone was either drinking, hugging someone or kissing someone. And that’s when you remembered.

You had to kiss him, you just knew it.

And so you did.

Turning to face him again, you drank your flute of champagne and threw your hands around his neck. He grabbed you by your hips, steadying you by the sudden movement. You stared at his eyes and he lightly grazed his nose onto yours.

“Please forgive me, my love.” He closed his eyes as he whispered the words.

“Only if you promise to love me and ignore what everyone says about us.” You grabbed his cheeks and pulled his face closer to yours, trying to open his eyes. “This relationship concerns no one but you and me. okay?” You looked straight at his eyes trying to make your point clear. He sniffed and nodded. Without wasting any more time, you pulled his face even closer to yours and kissed him.

The noise drowned and you got lost in the kiss. His soft lips trembled slightly and he let out a shaky breath when he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. He moved his hands to your waist and you moved yours to the back of his neck, playing with his hair. He hummed in appreciation and softly bit your bottom lip. You were in ecstasy. It had been so long since the last time you had him like this, close to you and kissing you. You couldn’t help but smile, breaking the kiss. He placed his forehead on yours and smiled.

“I love you so very much, my darling.” With a small peck on your lips he made you laugh, making you giddy and warm with love and happiness.

“And I love you so much more, my prince.”

Smiling, Loki leaned down to kiss you again stealing your breath away and your heart. Not like you minded it.

Unspoken Words taglist: @lllittle-bird / @vanessaaaasdfghjkl / @orighami / @jessiejunebug / @sanityisoverrated221b / @encounterthepast

Loki taglist: @slytherins-assemble-tofightsith / @memucci / @servamp-addict / @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 / @theworld-is-ahead / @crescent-night / @godhateskyleigh

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loveandwarandmagick · 5 years

Text

Rose-Colored Boy

yeah ,, i used a paramore song for my title ,,,, it’s cool we’re ignoring that

anyway this is my first fic n’ woW it took me almost the whole day to write this and i really hope you all enjoy it ! happy valentine’s day babes <3

summary: baz is in love and hates valentine’s day for this reason. intro the love of his life who ruins his plans to have a pity party with his aunt, with his own disaster on his hands. baz helps, like a lovesick fool

word count: 3,611 (lmao wow that’s a LOT)

Valentine’s Day used to be Baz’s least favorite and most favorite holiday.

Although classes weren’t ever canceled to celebrate the day, (that’d be an absolute nightmare with all the bloody couples at Watford), Baz remembers his father offering him the choice to stay home every year without fail. “Oh Basil,” he’d say, not laughing, but there was amusement in his tone, “It’s not like you’ll do anything important in your lessons anyways.” And they hadn’t, not in all the years that he’d missed. When he returned the next day, all the teachers remarked on how he’d missed out on making cards. As a child, he didn’t think to miss it, only relished in the break from making pink paper cards with the teachers and sealing the envelope with a charm that would unfold the card like origami.

Even if that break was spent being tugged along by his Aunt Fiona through the pink and red swarmed aisles of cheap candy and watching her shove multiple things in a cart at once.

Then after his fifth year - the absolute worst year- when all he could do was figure out that his feelings for Snow were so much more intense than he thought, coming home on Valentine’s was basically an obligation. He wasn’t stupid enough to spend all day in classes with the great love of his life, who was also his worst enemy, and on top of that, his roommate. Watching him parade around with his new girlfriend, and by default due to her status, Baz’s second worst enemy, was not at all worth it. Not even to escape Fiona’s lovelorn quest to buy every single piece of Valentine’s Day paraphernalia in the supermarket.

It wasn’t a sudden thing. Finding out that his feelings were just as intense as they used to be but on the opposite end of a spectrum was a slow thing to come. It was in December, perhaps. When the cold forced him inside earlier than usual and put Snow to sleep as soon as the sunset. He’d spend hours in bed staring at Snow, loathing everything he was. Everything he had; a gorgeous face, a future, a destiny. He’d had more friends than he could count on both hands, and Baz had only two. And besides friends, he’d had people who’d simply enjoyed being around him, who wanted to be in his life. Perhaps it was the magic, but maybe it was just him.

He drove himself insane with the wanting until his thoughts had shifted to wanting Simon. Yes, Baz was undeniably jealous of everything he had, but it was also the boy. His sweet smile and his freckled face and that lovely voice. And though it may have not been a quick realization, as soon as he figured it out, it tormented him. Simon haunted his thoughts and his room, throwing glares and stammering arguments back at Baz, who’d started them. If only to hear him say his name again, to be addressed if only for a moment, by the boy he loved.

Utterly in love, and oh, so hopeless.

So he finds himself now, in their seventh year at Watford, packing his trunk for the ride to Fiona’s apartment, (she’s decided to stay in and wait for the day after to buy clearance candy.) Heaven knows who she’s been heartbroken over for the past seven years, but Baz doesn’t exactly feel entitled to ask. As someone who’s living through the definition of unrequited love though, he figures that he’ll leave early to surprise her. Maybe they’ll rent a rom-com. “Or maybe,” he can hear her say, “We can go out and make fun of the couples. For culture, of course.”

He shakes the grin off his face at the thought, as his thoughts inevitably run back to Snow and his lovely relationship, still going two years later. There were times when Baz thought he had a chance. Times when Snow would stare at him from across the room, every room. When instead of arguing back, he’d only remain silent and turn over on his bed, facing the wall. Baz has only guessed that things had ended with Agatha, but they appeared fine the next day, hands clasped and polite smiles shared over breakfast. He’d know, he watched them constantly. To no avail, he should add.

So much for celebrating, he thought bitterly, biting his cheek as he shoved his last item carelessly into the trunk and closing the lid with a resounding thunk.

Baz looks over at Snow’s empty bed, cursing his feelings and his thoughts and stupidly beautiful boys like Snow himself. He drops his head down onto the case, groaning at the dull pain in his head. Then again, a third thunk. Except, not from Baz slamming his suitcase shut, or from his dramatic, hopeless head drop on it either. This one is louder, coming from right outside their door. Before he can even spell the door open, the sound turns into incessant pounding, and suddenly the door swings open and in barrels Snow.

Because Baz’s life is so gracious as to see him thinking of the bloody person who got him in this situation in the first place and to drop said angel right into his lap. Well, onto the floor in front of him. The love of his life is currently sprawled out on the rug, about two feet from Baz’s feet. He’s breathing hard, looking down at his hands like he’s shocked that they’re even there. Though it wouldn’t surprise Baz if they weren’t. (Snow’s shit at most spellwork.) He still won’t look up at him. Baz doesn’t even think that Snow knows he’s in the room, which wouldn’t make sense as he’s quite literally at his feet.

“Snow.”

Simon jerks his head up, blinking wildly up at Baz. Oh.

He’s got tears in his eyes, which is alarming on its own. But there are little pink buds all over his face that look like - flowers? Whatever they are, he looks entirely unpleased with it. Baz could laugh because it’s truly a ridiculous sight, but seeing Snow cry sends him to his knees to marvel closer at his face. Truly, idiotically in love. Or maybe just idiotic.

“I can’t imagine what sort of curse someone placed on you that would cause you to get such a terrible case of acne, Snow,” Baz sneers.

Snow just makes a choked sort of sound and peers into Baz’s eyes, which makes him suck in a breath because Simon’s right there, and Baz is right here and completely hyperventilating. He focuses his eyes on a flower right between Snow’s blue eyes, noticing that the petals are the same color as the pink blush decorating his freckled face. The flowers are small, resembling tulips that haven’t bloomed yet.

“Baz?” His voice is soft. Baz is pretty sure that he’s swooning. Dev once told him that his eyes gave away everything. “They tilt down at the corners when you’re into something,” he’d laughed, although they had been talking about lavender tea at the time.

Crowley. Baz is sure he’s looking every bit of the mess that he feels, and still hasn’t responded to Simon, who’s staring at him intently. He probably should respond, instead of marveling. “What in the world did you do to your face?” He asks, which is a start. Perhaps a terrible one, because he really has no time to be wasted if he wants to make it before the traffic starts up, and he and Snow don’t exactly make a habit of sharing stories, so he’s not expecting much of anything except a sharp response.

But Simon’s still sitting right in front of Baz, (so close that he can count just how many blooms are on his face - seven in total) and also Baz really doesn’t want to leave; he never wants to leave Simon. And then, surprisingly, he starts rambling. Not the standard routine of stammer, stutter, and pout that usually accompanies his constant arguing, but a full-on stream of words pouring off his tongue.

The blush gets darker every time he takes a breath. “Agatha spelled me. Some weird truth spell that wouldn’t work because it sounded too much like a compulsion spell. Then I had tried it and of course, it worked but she warned me about moderation in my tone because it was a very literal spell. And I told her that I knew that because of course, I did, but then I ended up covered in flowers and they keep popping up if I don’t tell the truth and I don’t even want to tell the truth but I don’t want to be a walking meadow by the time I get rid of it!”

He breathes. Blushes harder. Damn him and his stupid flustered face. Even the flowers are changing colors to match the darkening of his cheeks.

“And of course Agatha just stares at me, saying ‘There you go Simon, even the romance is a disaster with you!’ Which is unbelievably rude in general, but on Valentine’s, it’s even worse and I really wish I’d stop telling you about this because I hate telling you about anything but I can’t find Penny-”

A flower, a tiny pale pink one, pops up on his cheek. Both boys’ eyes go wide. The flower rapidly changes colors to match the other ones.

“Where’s the lie, Snow?”

“There’s no lie, I’m not sure why that happened, erm-”

Another flower sprouts from right above his eyebrow. His eyes squeeze shut.

Baz’s chest flutters hopefully, idiotically. Because part of that statement, the part that matters and could’ve most definitely been false, is about hating Baz. Well, hating to talk to him. He’s not sure whether or not to take advantage of this, considering that Snow’s very distressed, and he just wants to make Snow feel better. Then again, he supposes he could do it while flustering him more, (flustering looks good on him.) Simon’s looking down now, having moved slightly away from Baz in his panic to backtrack on the statement. He’s playing with his hands.

“Snow.”

“Pitch,” he says back. Indignantly, like he has the right to be upset while Baz is fighting every urge in his body screaming at him to hold those nervous fingers in his own hand, to calm him down and help him get rid of this spell.

Traffic is going to be hell when he leaves.

“Simon. Are you alright?” “Not at all.” And then, “You called me Simon?”

Baz frowns at him. “Is there a problem? Would you like me to address you as Snow?”

“Well yeah, it feels natural. I’m used to it,” he murmurs, looking back up at Baz. And then: not one, but two flowers.

He breathes in sharply and mutters something under his breath. Okay, it’s not natural! I’m used to it but still-” A flower. On his chin. Snow looks like he’s about to burst into tears.

“I like it when you call me Simon,” he says, gently.

No flower, but one of the ones on his forehead unfurls just a tiny bit when he says this. Baz is preoccupied with pretending that knowing this as the truth doesn’t make his breathing halt in his chest a bit, so he doesn’t exactly notice it when Simon shifts closer. Or how he can literally feel his eyes softening, his face nearly smiling, his head shifting just a bit closer to Simon’s own. The traitorous, hopeful, body of his has a mind of its own.

“Oh Merlin, please help me,” he says, worrying his lip between his teeth. Baz thinks that he’d like to do so too.

He’s deliberate with his words, careful. This moment feels like glass, it’s too delicate to be shattered by carelessness. This is Snow being vulnerable. This is Baz loving it, loving him. “Simon,” he starts, “one of your flowers is bigger than the other.” Simon sniffs hard, and Baz thinks that maybe that made things worse, so he rushes along with his theory, (which is completely selfish and hopeful.) “No, it’s not bad, I don’t think. What spell did you cast?”

He shakes his head, brow creasing further, “I can’t remember, something “pink colored-” he trails off. Baz shakes his head back, mirroring Simon and laughing softly to himself. He’s never heard anything like that, but flowers have to bloom before they’re picked. And when Simon told the truth, the flower opened up slightly- “Try telling the truth. Just true statements, things of that like.”

For someone who is on the verge of tears, Snow deadpans excellently at his suggestion. “Oh come off it, just try it.” He sighs, shifting away again while Baz screams (in his head) at the distance between them. “I am in this room with Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch.”

No flower shifts, nor does a new one appear. Baz glances down at his watch and figures that he’s really going to be stuck in traffic for a while. If he ever even leaves, (although no one could pay him to leave right now. He supposes that Fiona can wait another day for their pity party.)

“Agatha mentioned that it was romantic, but I can’t think of any way that an anti-lie spell could help us in the romance department. We both knew that our relationship needed help anyway,” he mutters, and the flower on his cheek opens up about halfway. Simon’s eyes go wide as he sniffs again, harder this time like he’s crying. Baz tries to ignore the way his chest turns into a vacuum, sucking up all the air in the room at hearing Simon say this, at the tulip bursting open on his cheek. He tries to and fails miserably.

His voice cracks as he starts, excited and bubbly and every bit as nervous as he feels, “Simon, say the truth. Just say what’s on your mind - I think that’s what it is!” He’s nodding rapidly and Snow’s doing it too, and the pair of them look like two deranged bobble-heads but this is working and Baz can’t lie and say that he’s not excited to help too. “Holy crap, Penny’s going to flip when I tell her about this!”

One pink tulip starts to shift, and Simon’s eyes are shining. He’s beaming, so relieved that he’s laughing and falling forward. Closer to Baz. So close that his curls are falling onto Baz’s chest and Baz has to stop himself from touching him. (He could, he wants to.)

“I’ve never been so relieved in my life!”

“Agatha breaking things off with me felt better than being in our relationship did.”

“Valentine’s Day sucks anyway!”

One by one, the petals unfurl, giving way to huge roses. So, not tulips then. Simon’s stopped laughing since then, but his eyes are still shining. All that’s left is the rose on his shoulder; the rest fell off as soon as they bloomed fully. Baz’s heart is beating erratically in his chest, mostly about everything he said about Agatha. The only thing running through his head is “breaking things off with me,” on repeat.

“There’s one left,” he remarks. Quietly, and once he feels like he can speak without squeaking. So that Simon doesn’t remember that they hate each other. So that Baz can entertain his heart, just a bit. “I said everything that’s been on my mind since the morning, I can’t imagine how I could get rid of it.”

A spot where an old flower just fell from starts to grow red and Simon frowns.

Baz raises an eyebrow. “I’d be careful there Snow, you don’t want another case on your hands.”

Simon raises one back. Baz breathes in and out, like someone who didn’t just have a mild heart attack. Baz tries to sound steady as he speaks, “I’m sure you’re meant to say everything on your mind. So out with it.”

“I don’t think I can uh,” Simon starts, every bit the stuttering mess that he is. “It’s just weird? Like, I don’t think that I could say something that wouldn’t change things in like, a really, uh, weird way?” He flushes again, the rose on his shoulder beginning to quiver the slightest bit. Baz nods encouragingly at him, scooting closer so that their knees are touching. “That’s fine Simon, I just need you to say it. Not that it isn’t lovely to watch you suffer at the hands of your own mistakes.”

At this, Simon’s head snaps up and he scowls at Baz, who is fighting back his own soft smile. There’s some feeling in the air, something like tension. When Simon’s hand comes up, Baz thinks that he’s about to get punched, but very slowly. And then Simon tilts his head to the side and lets his fingers wrap around a loose piece of hair framing Baz’s face.

Fuck being punched, this is being hit by a car. Baz’s heart is slamming against his chest and surely he’s making the most idiotic face but none of that matters because Simon Snow is practically playing with his hair and Baz Pitch is dying slowly. He looks down, dropping his hand. “When I got closer to you, I did it on purpose. I felt like I needed to thank you for helping me out.”

“Just now, I grabbed your hair because I’ve never noticed it until just this moment and I really wanted to touch it.”

Baz is currently thanking every single possible entity that he didn’t leave sooner.

“One time I read a book and one of the quotes was about thinking something and finding it very hard to unthink. That quote crossed my mind for whatever reason and then I thought about how much I really didn’t hate you at this moment. And well...”

He shrugs, looking up at Baz who is very, very aware that their lips are too close together, closer than before Simon started talking. Simon’s eyes are shining blue, and his face is all spotted red from where the flowers fell out, and his eyebrows are honestly shaped quite terribly, but Baz has never been more in love and he thinks he might kiss him. It might be worth it, even if Simon pushed him away and cursed him horribly for it. But he did say all that.

“Look, I kinda really want to kiss you? So I’m going to do that if that’s alright with you?”

Simon’s leaning in and Baz is really trying to not hyperventilate and suddenly, the rose on his shoulder puffs out, scattering rose petals all over Baz, who is trying very hard not to cry as Simon collapses into giggles next to him. “Oh the look on your face, Baz! You looked like I’d shot you or something,” he laughs, dragging a hand through his curls as he brushes rose petals from his shirt.

“Yeah well Snow, excuse me for being surprised that you would take your pranks to a romantic level,” he sighs, standing up and stepping over Simon, who’s stopped laughing abruptly and is scrambling up to his feet.

“Hey, no wait, you git!” He’s reaching out to Baz, who is gathering his trunk faster than he’s ever done anything and is really hoping to get out of the door before he starts crying, like the moron he is. The absolute fool that he’s always been, to love Simon and to have hope in the first place. “Baz can you wait?”

“No, I can not,” he hisses back, wanting nothing more than to kiss this ridiculous boy and never see him again. Simon throws his hands up, going over to him and taking him by the shoulders and Baz lets him because he’s weak and hope is a thing very alive in his chest. “Snow,” he says.

“I already told you that I preferred you call me Simon,” he frowns, letting go of Baz but stepping closer all the same.

“Snow-”

“Simon,” he says again, touching his forehead to Baz’s. It only works because he’s on his tip-toes. It works because Baz has stepped closer too. He opens his mouth, fully planning to never say the name “Simon,” again, but said boy cuts him off once again. “Don’t say anything,” he whispers, inching so close that their lips are brushing with every word that he speaks and god, Baz is absolutely hopeless, “Unless it’s my name,” he finishes, finally pressing their lips together.

Simon’s hands are in his hair and he’s smiling, Baz can feel it, so he pulls away gently. “Simon,” he says, smiling. He kisses him again, harder this time until Simon starts giggling.

“We don’t have to talk about it right now,” he says, feeling every bit like the lovesick fool he is.

“Okay,” Simon says back, biting his lip. Biting back another sunshine grin.

Baz glances down at his trunk, still leaning on the wall. So does Simon.

“Are you going somewhere? I wouldn’t have minded it so much when I thought you hated me, but in light of recent events, I think that maybe you could be my valentine?”

To: Fiona

i’ve got plans this v-day, Fi. i take it you’ll manage without me?

From: Fiona

was just about to cancel on you for my date tonight. have fun without me, alright?

To: Fiona

will do

From: Unknown Number

Would you please let Simon know that the spell is called “Rose-Colored Boy,” and that it’s for confessing since he let his phone die so carelessly and asked me to help? Thx - Penelope Bunce

To: bunce

i’m not going to ask how you got my number, bunce. will lend him my charger

#lwm fic #carry on #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz #snowbaz fic

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funkkpunk · 5 years

Text

Sober October Day 13-15

I will write this tomorrow because I am going to sleep and I am definitely sick from these past three days my throat hurts I got some phlegm my lymph nodes r swollen my body is aching it is 1:51 AM so the lack of sleep is definitely going to make it all hurt more but the time I spent with Susan was fucking worth it my God I am so lucky str8 up can I get an Amen even though she could wake up tomorrow and hate me it was so nice and I also doubt it with a fair amount of confidence. She can have all the time in the world & I’ll wait like a sucka it’s gross but it’s true. (side note: I was talking to Lisa about the past three days and making a lot of business plans now all we need to do is get Steven on board and the three of us are rich af not that money is the main objective but the ideas are so pure they could do nothing less than bring it to us)

Day 16 (10.17.19) update

OK so Day 13 I saw Susan for the first time in a bit over a month and I was incredibly nervous. Mf sweating bullets. I saw her dad as well which was really unexpected. I almost cried lol not sure why just a swell of emotions. He seemed genuinely happy to see me so that was rly nice. Saw Lisa, Sergio, and Michelle too; I feel bad that I didn’t say much to Michelle though because she moved to Denver to do the peace corps I think. Susan told me later that she was nervous because she could feel me being nervous while she was on the way to meet. Anyways yeah I took her to get some frozen yogurt (which I ate most of) and we maintained pretty surface level conversation. As soon as she got in the car I almost started crying just from a flood of emotions, it was really intense. Still not even sure why. We drove to the park by my dads office after and there we had a bit deeper conversation but I told her to save it until we would see each other later in the day. She shed a few tears there as well. I still don’t really understand why this happened at several points.. I think it was just a release of emotion that words could not express. Kind of a beautiful thing tbh. I drove her to dinner with her family and went home to workout a bit, then she came over again. We went to pick up Ximena and she was so excited to see Susan that was really sweet. Took Ximena to Panera where she took her sweet ass time (lol) eating and Susan talked to her about school and life for a bit. I wanted to put my hand on her leg or something the whole time. But after that we went home, and she spoke with my mom for a bit. Then we went to my room to watch Wallace & Gromit and it was a bit awkward the whole time. Not awkward but a lot of tension I should say, however, it may have just been on my end. I finally couldn’t take it and asked her to come into my arms, and we just held each other and cried. TBH I’m not sure if I should be posting this on the internet LOL bc it was a really tender and private moment and although this whole thing started as a journal about how I feel being sober (which I will touch on in a brief moment) it has also become a way for Susan to be able to read my thoughts while we are not speaking and with that in mind I think I’m going to keep the rest of this less detailed because these few days were something for her and I only. Also I am extremely tired and it is 12:35 AM. So, I told her a lot about how I felt (maybe too much?) and we ended up cuddling a bit and talking the rest of the night until around 1:30. Then she came over around 8 and I drove her to San Diego shortly after that. It was fun to be reckless for her. The whole day was spent driving her to and from her sessions and basically just spending time in the car. We got bagels and tacos as well. Ended the day with Tacos Al Gordo. Oh and I finally took her to Soledad Mountain that was really fun. At night I went to get water with Charlie and we both showered (Me and Susan not Charlie) and went to bed. I feel bad that she was worried at different points during the day about me not having money, and about me not being “productive”. But I understand that I was a hard ass for a bout a year and a half so I have to just reassure her when she feels those things. It was actually pretty productive for me, I went to the gym and made the beat for “outmyway”. Anyways the next day was basically the same thing and then I went to the train station and Lisa & Steven took me home. Then I went to train and I was late to promotions LMAO -___- as I needed more of a reason for them to dislike me there. The vibe is getting worse and worse honestly, but there are a few guys I really like. Mike, Joe, and Tony (all blue belts) and this guy Sin; he’s got fucking heart. Broke his thumb and he just tapes it up every class. The soon-to-be-black-belt Nathan is also really cool but we don’t talk much, I just appreciate his jiu jitsu. Also the Japanese blackbelt. I need to start figuring out the whole contract thing because I really want to start commuting to American Legion when they open in November. OK anyways to sum things up I think me and Susan are on good terms again, I now have the opportunity to court her and prove my love. She got me a bracelet in Hawaii so I know she be lovin’ me too. Don’t need to deny it girl. Jk. Ok yeah that and also I want to switch gyms. Gonna start work with my dad next week and I’m going to see if I can start doing deliveries for Susan’s dad as well. Gonna see if I can schedule some sort of streaming date on Saturday night if she isn’t busy, if not then then Sunday hopefully. Actually Sunday makes the most sense. Ok fuck I have to sleep dude I am so sick from those three days lol. Need to sleep all day today (10.18.19) and skip training so Saturday I can bring home the gold medal. Gonna work on a gameplan tomorrow and just rest. OKKKKK shit going to sleep now gn

Oh yeah today was day 16 and all I did was watch tiny desk performances, take a fat ass nap, and go to public speaking. I also figured that I may want to become an OT at some point. OK gn

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jujywrites · 5 years

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WIP Challenge

I got tagged by @kikithedeceiver to do this!

Challenge: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

Here’s the thing. I don’t have many separate WIP files; most of them are in one huge doc. and most of the separate wip files are... pretty dead? but ok whatevs. under a read more since it’s long...... and my ego won’t let me skip snippets hjkhkhk thanks for the idea Kiki

From my main miscellaneous folder:

50 Grades of Steele. 1 and a half chaps of a role-flipped 50 Shades of Grey rewrite (i haven’t read the books so I extra don’t care about the characters lol). why do i still have it i’ve lost interest.... *side eyes her entire wip ecosystem* ...Then I see my interview subject, seated at her desk.

"Mr. Grey. I'm pleased to meet you."

And I stop breathing. [end CH1]

[open CH2) I forgot to mention something: I exaggerate occasionally. But I'm not now. I literally stop breathing for a few seconds. A thousand thoughts are racing through my mind, which doesn't help my chest stop seizing, but the main problem here is that Anastasia Steele is quite possibly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

Fanfic idea masterlist. my most active file and where I keep most of my WIPS, unless they get too “large”. Organized by fandom. lotta stuff i keep passing by & may as well be dead but don’t wanna delete. here’s a zero-draft snippet of probably the next chapter of my G-rated yukyoru fic collection

He grabbed a pillow and placed it to his chest, grabbed her arm, and yanked her to him, praying his idea would work.

Seconds passed and he didn't transform. He put his arms around her gingerly. Should he try to immobilize her or would that make it worse?

She made the decision for him. "Mom," she sobbed, clutching him with an iron grip. "N-Need to help...!"

His stomach dropped to his shoes.

Thudding footsteps announced Yuki's arrival. "What's wrong?! Honda-san--"

He didn't say "What did you do?" The thought raced by and Kyo said, "Grab a pillow and help me!"

As Yuki positioned the pillow and himself without having to ask, Kyo said, "She won't wake up. I don't know what to do!"

"Night terror," Yuki said tightly. He was too close but it almost didn't matter. "Not much you can do besides wait."

MayxWard BDSM fic agents of SHIELD. mix of notes and actual writing. kind of a half AU. Melinda climbed into the driver's side and buckled in, then started up the car. "If you've not ridden on the left before you might have motion sickness. It's normal. Just close your eyes until—" She paused as she looked at him; his hands shook so much he couldn't manage the seatbelt. "Here, let me."

"Thanks," he muttered with a sigh, looking rueful.

Modern AU Zelink. What it says on the tin~ Teenage-ish Zelink, with a mash of supporting characters from other games. another mix of notes and fic. Link wasn't sleeping tonight. Tonight was the night he'd been planning for and awaiting for weeks. He was going on a quest: the quest to meet Princess Zelda.

She wasn't really a princess, of course. That was just her nickname. Zelda Nohansen was Hyrule's sweetheart, the most sought-after young actress in the movie business. And Link had fallen in love with her the first time he'd seen her, two years ago in a tiny theater in Kakariko.

PMMMfic homumado. Madoka Magica. AU, been around since about an hour after I finished the series (5 years yikes, still gotta watch Rebellion). Homura's time power still somewhat involved, but Mami's an adult, everyone's at a boarding school (I think?) where ~things aren't as they first seem~ and Madoka has mysterious powers and night terrors. just notes at the moment.

SoubixHitomi. Loveless. 3 unfinished/dead first-person Shinonome-senseixSoubi snippets, all of ‘em spicy.

yvy abo. Yuri On Ice. Yuri (Katsuki!!)/Victor/Yuko(!!?!), my attempt at. well. omegaverse(!!!!!!!). orignally started as part of a “bad YOI fic” bigbang and now I’m taking it seriously dgdgfg. Alpha Yuko. “Please, please stop,” she whispered, like saying it aloud would make any difference. But the pressure in her head kept building. Her limbs had begun to itch restlessly.

And Victor wouldn’t let go of her hand.

With the last scrap of her control, she straddled him quickly and kissed him awake.

Even in half-sleep he arched to meet her, and when he opened his eyes sapphire blue had already turned stormy with lust.

yvy canonfuturefic. Yuko-focused following of canon, or: how canon can I keep YOI while still rareship OT3ing it. She and Yuri fall in and out of love, in between falling for Victor. Victuri is still my life I swear

“You have got to watch this,” she tells Yuri. She watches Yuri’s face instead of the video, having seen it at least forty times by now.

Yuri’s eyes transform into beacons of awe, and Yuko swallows around her rapid heartbeat, breaths coming too short. She sees everything she’s feeling and more on his face. She remembers that she loves him, that he’s real and here and more important than the beautiful boy on her phone who’s trying to pull her under to a scary new world.

ZnT ot3 bdsm AU. Zankyou no Terror, 9/12/Lisa. mix of notes and fic, not just PWP. in heavy need of editing bc a lot was inspired by a non-spicy book.

“But it’s not just me. It’s everyone. You need everyone because you have no idea how to need yourself. Or even how to be yourself.”

“You’re wrong.” The force and volume of her voice shocked her and pushed her onward. “You and Touji. I don’t need anyone except you and Touji! Because you both taught me how to be myself-- no, how to find that on my own. I know exactly who I am, and that me isn’t complete without both of you!” She could feel the tears streaming down her face, yet somehow her voice didn’t waver. She felt so full of conviction she could burst into flames. “Don’t you understand, Arata? We’re all meant to be together.”

From my SnK folder:

Cave of the Crystal Maiden (working title). Aruani. Modern AU. MMORPG shenanigans with a dollop of magical realism/supernatural. Just notes. @portraitofa-girl suggested “meeting online” and it’s been there literally for years oh lord im sorry. no fic yet, just notes.

Falling Anthem (working title) Modern AU Levihan, art student Hange and young professor Levi. just notes. fic one in a planned series. also has been years ;_;

Raindrops and Soft Steps. Jearmin. unsurprisingly, modern AU. One morning, when Jean looks out of his bedroom window, he sees a boy dancing across the street. In the street, to be exact. There wouldn't be anything unusual about that, Jean supposes, except it's raining cats and dogs outside.

In my IAMXfic folder (fff i almost skipped this):

2ndPOVCalberto (DO NOT CORRUPT WITH HET) ChrisxAlberto? not much to say?? yes i know they’re real people??? which applies to everything after this oh my god *crawls under desk* Of course she knows; she is annoyingly perceptive when it comes to romance. The only thing preventing you from asking her (like a fucking lovestruck teenager) if Alberto likes you back is emptying that beer bottle. By then the only thing on your mind is ordering another.

CalbertImmi. i can’t even keep my poly shit outta RPF ahaha omhg Imogen has a conversation with her lover's lover. (AlbertImmi, sequel to...) Imogen finds herself in an unenviable position. (emerging CalbertImmi)

Alternate summaries (CC POV, first fic?): Chris loves two people. He doesn't want to choose. Chris has fallen in love a few times in his life. But he's never fallen for two people at once. (Chris also isn't good at choosing.)

ChrisxJ. several self-insert fics bc CC is just that powerful, apparently. haven’t looked at the file in a long time,,,,,

He started calling people to the stage with him, and one by one, my row emptied.

"Come on, yeah, come on," he was saying, waving his hand in an inviting gesture and grinning like a little kid. "Hey, you want to?" I did a double take.

"Me?" I mouthed, pointing at myself just to be sure. He nodded, smiling wider.

So it was that I walked unsteadily down the ramp and waited in line, feeling like I didn’t belong there. Soon I was next in line. What would I say? What would I do? I was sure if I opened my mouth I’d either burst into tears or faint.

Genderswapped IAMX sci-fi. The sci-fi was inspired by a word prompt, genderswapping by my own brain. (play spot the Immi lmao) Across the aisle, Sam rolled his eyes. “Leave Chris alone; she’s nervous.”

“And put on your own seatbelt, Johann,” shouted Jess, two seats back and in Sam’s aisle.

Patrick turned to look at Chris. “Subspace travel is a bitch,” he said simply, and turned back to his book.

“Oh, I feel much less nervous now,” Chris said with a sardonic grin. “How do you know that, anyway?”

"I'm not exactly what I seem to be." He didn’t look up.

Chriimmi (While I Was Gone inspired). Chris/Imogen, inspired by scenes from Sue Miller’s While I Was Gone.

"You really ought not to do that, you know," he said softly.

"Do what?"

"Sneak up on me."

My eyes slid from his face. "I didn't mean to. It just... happened."

"Mm." I glanced back at him; he wore a lopsided smile. "Not that I minded." The tension was so strong the air nearly vibrated with it, yet I held my tongue, terrified that I was the only one feeling it. He took a breath, deep, nearly rising on his toes. "No. I didn't mind at all." He took my hand, circled his thumb over the back. My breath caught as I felt it, as I watched him looking down at our hands.

Chriimmi bathtub dream. dream inspired Chris/Immi smut.

Chriimmi twitter. twitfic plus some, inspired from an actual tweet iamx made that i’m still not over.

@ imogenheap Come sing your lovely lyrics with us in London. @ IAMX misses you. CCx

ChrisxImmi main. grab bag of Chriimmi I was too lazy to put into separate docs.

“What do you think?” She grinned, twirling.

He cleared his throat. “Ah, I-Imogen, what are you wearing?”

“Well, I didn’t want to clash with your theme… Janine helped me. Does it work?”

Scandalously short skirt, midriff-baring top, knee-high boots.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? You’re trying to fucking kill me.”

Her grin only widened, even though a blush had started.

Fic edit chriimmi ver. yeah. editing someone else’s original fic to be chrimmi. either never posting or editing the frick out of. ~_~

He kissed her neck, whispered into it, “I love you.”

Imogen laughed. “Bollocks,” she said lazily.

”I do!” Chris protested. She looked down at him, nestled on her shoulder. He looked back, open, a little adoring. “I fell in love with you halfway through the show; I sang every note just for you.”

”Oh, please. You couldn’t have seen me.”

”No,” he said. “But I knew you were out there… I knew it had been you the minute I saw you backstage.”

Hospital Chriimmi. In which my guilty feeling over RPF are even worse bc of the inspiration ^_^U “Ms. Heap. What a pleasant surprise.” It’s surprising, how well she remembers his voice.

“Mr. Corner, what have you got yourself into?”

“Oh, just a bit of lingering insomnia. You know how it is.”

She takes a seat in the chair near his bed, crossing her legs. “Well, I’ve certainly had a sleepless night here and there, but I’ve never ended up in hospital from it. So no, I don’t suppose I do know.” Her tone is light, but her smile has begun to crack.

ImmixChris genderbend smut. the my secret friend video is... fertile material. have not actually written the smut yet.

...he saw us as characters– we put on those clothes and become separate from ourselves, removed. Whereas I simply felt like myself in men’s clothes, and instead of feeling what He felt for Her, I just kept right on feeling what I felt for Chris, amplified to a distracting level.

ReluctantdommeImmixSubCC. ...shrug emoji? notes and uh. visualizing.

Vampire Chriimmi. based on a dream. smutty. inspired by True Blood so wow that’s old.

From my Markipairings folder:

demon dream. markiplier self insert...... ughhhhhhhh o///o

"You can have me," I tell the creature. "But this one," I jerk my head toward Mark, "comes with me. He's mine, you see." A bold proclamation to make, but in the moment I know that the truth in those words surpasses everything I've ever said. He is mine, and saying the thought out loud fills me with courage. He squeezes my hand, two short and a long one so strong I think he might break it.

I know we’ll win.

DommeJujY. same as above, same as the next four. smutty.

Fight team AU. i forget where i got this one from. vaguely inspired by loveless i guess. The first clear thought I had was, He shouldn't have gone ahead of me. The second one was, I should have been able to protect him. But these came later, after the rage went away, after I hugged him and apologized, after I bandaged him…

Gaming meetcute. i win some contest or whatever to secretly tagteam w/ Mark. stuff happens and yeah......

The adrenaline surges through my veins as I take in the scene. Mark's avatar is flailing around, backed into a corner by some Eldritch Abomination and holy shit, the graphics in this game are amazing.

"This is not good, I can't move, I can't move…"

There's a voice in the back of my head screaming to shut the game down, to get that horrible thing off the screen. I ignore it.

Markinpanties. .......smut.

shifter-slight sci-fi AU. shrug emoji.

I looked up from the ground and saw I was heading straight for a brick wall. There was no time to slow down. I braced for impact...

It didn't happen. I opened my eyes and found myself in a café.

What.

Looking behind me, I saw a door. On impulse I walked over and opened it; the tree-lined street I could see through the glass was indeed there. No brick wall to smack my face into. Bewildered, I turned around and looked for a seat, choosing one near a window.

Gouldiplier~. master doc of ficbits of my cracky mccrackship, MarkiplierxEllie Goulding.

I check my phone during break time again. My selfie has been liked and retweeted thousands of times, and I shake my head in disbelief; I don't think that will ever stop surprising me, deep down. To make things even better, Mark's liked it! I'm in the middle of a happy jig when I realize there's a text from him and a squeak of joy slips from me.

hellooo gorgeous

looks like you're having fun. Hope the shoot's going great! <3

I quickly send a reply. it has been. Be glad when it's done tho. Missin u lots xo

Markipicbunnies. fanart of Mark for Gouldiplier insipration. photographer au.

"Ms. Goulding, I'm really not sure about this…"

"I produce pictures that are intimate because I'm an intimate being, Mark." Ellie looked at him directly, a hint of a smile shaping her lips. "Deep down, I think you are too. We just need to draw you out a bit."

showersexgouldiplier. WELP. IT’S SMUT.

Also I have folders for my 2010/11 nanowrimo novel that are kinda still WIPs but also kinda not

i’m gonna tag.... @kippielovesyou @kiridork and @mistergrass and anyone else who wants to do this can too :3

#JujYwrites #Mintyblather #i have too much stuuuffffff

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