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1kook · 3 years

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crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast.

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office.

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5.

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses.

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful.

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.”

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.”

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.”

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking.

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever.

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours.

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together.

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.)

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be.

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you.

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber.

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend.

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary.

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days.

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.)

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like.

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites.

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?”

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.”

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind.

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into.

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway.

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin.

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear.

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass.

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you.

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak.

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead.

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat.

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts.

They go like this:

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really.

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively.

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once.

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you.

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome.

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve.

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek.

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts.

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.”

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles.

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild.

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums.

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again.

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning.

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.”

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment.

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him.

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned.

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.”

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.”

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.”

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.”

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“—

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear.

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer.

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole.

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips.

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise.

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath.

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes.

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue.

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger. “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…”

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?”

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles.

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over.

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more.

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them.

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub.

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face.

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention.

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock.

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand.

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane.

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh.

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be.

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds.

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter.

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic.

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock.

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you.

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip.

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl.

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully.

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin.

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said.

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away.

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself.

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you.

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once.

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth.

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets.

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever.

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries.

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you.

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question.

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest.

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

#networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #Jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts fic #bts smut #mine

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insertdisc5 · 3 years

Note

Hi!! I wanted to ask, in celebration of Deltarune CH. 2, do you have any updated thoughts and head canons about the game?? Like, y'know, similar to a previous ask about Kris in your Deltarune tag? Thanks!

thoughts on kris part 2 i guess???? (part 1 from ch1 here lol)

spoilers for deltarune like woah. this wont be kris focused just random thoughts on everything. thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk

not that many thoughts for this chapter tbh! EDIT LOL: this was a lie i have a lot of thoughts

-just in general i feel like the player isn't the only one controlling kris... like yes the player forced kris to do what happened in the snowgrave route but AT THE SAME TIME idk it feels like there's someone else too. just because of the terrifying voice i suppose. and also the jerky movement kris does every time they get their soul out? unless there's another reason for it... maybe getting your soul out means you walk weird lol

-BUT ALSO i feel like kris is 100% in control when they create fountains. idk it just makes sense kris would create them. to create another world, a better world, A WORLD WHERE THEIR BROTHER IS HERE PERHAPS? i do wonder why they get their soul out then though. i'm all for it sweetie! do whatever! i support you!

-(i am and will be playing deltarune with only kris' best interests in mind. i will not hurt anyone unless kris wants me to. dont worry my little meow meow im on your side! talk to me! no? okay ill stay under the sink its fine)

-speaking of asriel. SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER (starts crying) V-VACATION COLLEGE WHEN

-kris misses their brother so much it's so sad. if you make kris steal 5$ from asriel they take it "reluctantly"? talking to asriel online so often even alphys knows?? the google search?? GOING INTO ASRIEL'S GOOGLE SEARCH ROOM WITH THEIR EYES CLOSED BECAUSE THEY'RE CONVINCED THEY ALREADY KNOW WHATS IN THERE? THAT ONE IS LESS OF A MISSING THING BUT IM LIKE OH MY GOD

-the city walk with susie at the end makes it clear to me that kris really values susie's friendship... kris even sits with her if you spend long enough near the lake like aaaaah ;_;

-and even in snowgrave you spend your last acts with the final boss calling for your friends like YES there's a way bigger creepy aspect to this (kris as more of a Leader who Commands and commands their subjects to come) but still :'0 (and then noelle answers oh my god noelle im so sorry for the trauma)

-berdly. listen. listen. listen. liste

-berdly sucks but [berdly hurts his arm in the battle against queen if you don't save him because he doesnt want to hurt you] [berdly realizing smg's wrong in snowgrave and immediately taking steps to save noelle] berdly is my little crumb nugget. i will protect him.

-noelle. noelle. girlboss!

-like ooooh listen. hearing about the genocide path for undertale. made me go "that is SO COOL. i HAVE to experience it myself this is great. hehehe killing time" and like no regrets. i was fully enjoying the experience knowing i was an awful person. SNOWGRAVE THOUGH. i will never try this myself its too fucked up. casually grooming your childhood friend to murder people <3 and also acting like a weird stalker towards her <3 stockholm syndrome speedrun i will get all the info i can about this but i will never do this myself

-people remarking the kris/player>noelle relationship is similar to the relationship between player>chara in genocide path is like yes. chefs kiss. don't worry we just are making you stronger and everything will be fine "you made me kill my friend? and for what?" this is fine sweetie don't worry about it!!!!!!

-like the amount of details added to snowgrave, like if you equip noelle's watch she notices later? and her battle animations change as time goes on, she gets an ice shield and stops sighing in relief after battle? oh my god? oh my god.

-(berdly is not awake.) JUST KILL ME RIGHT HERE I HAVEN'T STOPPED THINKING ABOUT BERDLY NOT BEING AWAKE!!!!!

-also why didnt he turn into dust. so many possible reasons. is magic a thing in the normal world and perhaps no magic means no dust (theres graves). maybe he isnt dead. maybe hes braindead. maybe he'll come back. either way that boy is now in the closet big enough to put someone in

-also dess' name probably being december AND THATS WHY NOELLE LOST THE SPELLING BEE?!?!??! FUCK ME UP!!!!! JUST FUCK ME UP!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!

-also so many good pixel art this chapter. too many? i didnt need pixel art of cardboard noelle falling on the statue. like thank you but please. please it hurts my game artist brain.

-the expressions in this chapter were also top notch. all the unsettling noelle expressions like (i fall over face first)

-i threw away the ball of junk (which i already tried in ch1) and this time the game was like "ARE YOU SURE BC THIS IS A BAD IDEA" and kris felt bitter :'( (it deletes all your items in the dark world)

-i uh fucked up and skipped the susie+noelle scene bc listen last time ralsei mentionned seeing what susie is doing we missed some PRIMO LORE. turns out it just makes you skip the scene and you dont get anything new. welp

-speaking of ralsei well you know. he exists. but im stuck on him going "i just wonder what being ralsei-like even is...?" ralsei my dude there's so much i could say about this. do you feel like you can't be ralsei-like because you feel like you have to be asriel-like

-but also that makes no sense bc susie hasnt even mentioned ralsei looks like asriel. and i cant imagine asriel being so meek. so WHAT GIVES

-ralsei as kris’ “i wish i was a monster just like my bro and family and i’d look like asriel but with red horns [THE HALLOWEEN COSTUME] and my name would be something cool like ralsei instead of a boring human name like kris and im sweet and cute because thats how i act with asriel because ASRIEL MADE ME” theory because that would be cute.

-ASRIEL GOING TO THE CHURCH TO CONFESS HIS "SINS" WHEN "SINS" AREN'T A THING IN THE ANGEL BELIEF LIKE I KNOW THIS INTERACTION WAS TREATED AS A JOKE BUT WHAT THE FUCK ASRIEL?

-kris definitely has a connection with the big red door in the city, judging by what the kids say they probably went there... i feel like this place's dark world will be the Final Dungeon you KNOW some shit happened there. also the sounds you hear when you go there is the phone dark world call's sound slowed down? AND AFTER SNOWGRAVE APPARENTLY YOU CANT HEAR IT ANYMORE? HUWAH?

-speaking of songs the songs were all so good, My Castle Town rules, the berdly snowgrave music is stuck in my head, flashback is uwah wuahah, Until Next Time is so good, AND ALSO A FRIEND NOTICED THE DARK WORLD CITY THEME IS JUST tHE SONG 74 (MOST NOTICEABLE WITH THE SNOWGRAVE VERSION)?????? WHAT DOES IT MEAN????? it might be just "hey its just reuse" BUT MR FOX YOU KNOW WE'RE GONNA READ INTO THIS IS NOELLE THE ONE SINGING IDK BRO!!!!!!!!!!

-asgore dreemurr fired from the force what happun!!!!! game theory is that asgore is related to dess' death/disappearance but eh who knows

-you start the chapter at lvl2 and get to lvl3 after the final boss, a friend mentioned this is probably because we destroyed a world and im :0

-to go back to kris it's still so interesting to figure out who they are based on how they act/people mention them. like kris shaking the ferris wheel car? yeah makes sense i can imagine a pranking kid do this. kris' dance? yeah thats a little silly but i can buy it. doing cool anime poses? well i dunno this doesnt line up PERFECTLY but sure. BUT EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN SNOWGRAVE... especially >proceed like that is such a weird thing that i can't imagine them doing, but i can't completely see the "player" doing either (compare with going to sans -which kris doesnt know- and going "SANS!" because of course the player would know sans), like THATS one of the reasons i feel like there's someone else in there. the weird robotic merciless actions. if im going super meta it feels like there'd be someone else like writing the choices into existence for us to pick you know? gaster probably? god i need to read more gaster theories i completely sidestepped the gaster shit bc i wasnt interested. anyway just spitballing

-(looks at big shot guy) please dont make him the next tumblr guy i beg you

-obligatory "queen was great" mention if only because this part made me laugh a little bit too hard

that was a lot. thank you for letting me talk

#ask tag #deltarune #deltarune spoilers #snowgrave spoilers

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yesimwriting · 3 years

Text

The Promise of Rain, blurb 2

The Promise of Rain (part 2?? technically)

A/n I was not originally planning a second part for this but some people wanted it and this idea came to me and it works better with the context of ‘The Promise of Rain’ but it can technically be read as a stand alone :))

Anyways this might turn into a small series of kinda connected blurbs that are all kind of canon with each other but aren’t necessarily connected except for the reader’s background (the reader is a very sunshine-y person and knows Kaz bc she’s a runaway princess that he was hired to bring back home but she managed to convince him to let her work for him instead)

The night air had left me with a chill that made me want nothing more than to have my covers draped over me as I read. I’m normally more sociable after a job, especially after such a simple and safe ending, but a lot of tonight had left me wanting to be alone.

Well, not truly alone. The company of my books is always welcomed, but tonight I can’t seem to find much comfort within the pages. After almost every paragraph, I find myself distracted by gusts of wind and thoughts of the heavy, silver clouds that seem to make up tonight. A part of me longs for the rain. I know it’s ridiculous to expect rain each time I desire some sense of comfort, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it. Especially when the sky so clearly implies it.

“This must be the fifth time I’ve come here and you’ve been reading.” Kaz’s sudden appearance is almost enough to shake away my lingering somberness.

I roll my eyes slightly, turning my attention back to the page in front of me. “That observation is just a testament to how often you come in here.”

His glare is half hearted, a look I’d find endearing if I was less annoyed. “Where else am I going to find a reminder that good people exist in Ketterdam?”

I think he may have a sixth sense that warns him when I’m treading the line between being annoyed and displeased. Everytime I find myself mad at him in a way that makes me want to avoid him instead of yell at him, Kaz makes some ridiculously heart-melting comment. He steps further into the room. I don’t miss the way he eyes my stretched out legs. Ever since the conversation we had after he woke up after an injury, we’ve fallen into the unmentioned habit of silently inviting the other to stay by moving to make room for them.

It had started the day after the conversation in which Kaz had admitted that he wanted me to stay with him. He had been sitting on the small couch while discussing the details of a job. Shortly after I walked in he made a point of shifting so that he was clearly on one side of the couch. I didn’t think much about sitting down, but Inej and Jesper exchanged a look.

Now, though, I keep my legs stretched out on the bed. He eyes my position on the bed, something grim crossing his features.

“It might rain tonight.”

He knows me so damn well. I hate it. “I hope so.”

I turn my head, analyzing the way the world seems to be on the cusp of something. I stare at the silver clouds until I feel something hard tap my leg. The tap is firm but not painful. I’m quick to look at Kaz as he lowers his cane. The mention of rain had been a distraction.

“You distracted me on purpose.”

“The first rule of the Barrel is to always be prepared.” There’s a slight uptilt to his lips, something I’ve learned to interpret as a sign of teasing.

How is he so easy to be around one second and so cold the next? I resist a smile. “I’ll take notes.”

Kaz ignores my passive aggressive tone. His focus seems to be on my legs that have still not moved to offer him a place next to me. “You wear your emotions too openly.” Great, he’s going to make us talk about it. “What reason could you possibly have to be mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you.” It’s a partial truth.

His expression harshens. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not thrilled with you, but I don’t think that’s the same as being mad.”

Kaz lets out a partial sigh. “No, they’re not the same.” Such an early concession feels like a trap. “With you, the first option is worse.” I don’t have anything to say to that. “Is this because of what I said to Jesper?”

My posture straightens on instinct. “He wants your validation more than he’d ever admit and I understand that expressing praise isn’t exactly something you do, but would it kill you to not actively insult him?”

“I didn’t say anything that was wrong. He thinks he’s a gambler but he’s just someone born for losses.” The look I give him must mean something to him, because Kaz is quick to tact on, “That doesn’t make him less valuable of an asset or less relatively dependable.”

I eye him cautiously, the slightest bit of vulnerability playing at his features. “Don’t look at me like that--and don’t tell me that. Jesper’s the one who could use the occasional reminder from you that you hold him to any regard with positive connotations.” His lips press together like he’s thinking about scolding me for scolding him. “It’s only because I know you care more about Jesper than you’d ever let on.”

“Jesper’s esteem can handle the blow.” The curtness of his voice is a blow in its own sense. “And he didn’t exactly deserve to be in my good graces after what he did tonight.”

My sigh is not weighted enough to match Kaz’s newfound fountain of emotion. “We were successful--”

“He left you.” I didn’t know Kaz’s voice was capable of such harshness. “I paired him with you, and he left you--and you almost didn’t make it.” I let the weight of his words take up all the available space in the room, keeping the silence that follows them until some of the heaviness has dissipated. “He could have cost me one of my best people.”

Oh. His harshness, his unwarranted coldness, had been a manifestation of his concern. For me. Guilt knots my stomach. Potential words that may offer Kaz some sort of support raise and die back down in my throat. Kaz turns towards the door.

“Kaz.” He pauses. There’s a long moment in which I think he won’t turn around, but finally, he does. I tuck my legs beneath me, forcing myself to sit up a little straighter. “I told Jesper to leave because I knew the job would have failed if he had been trapped in that room with me.” I drop my gaze towards the window. “I was right, the job was successful, and I got out in time so it was worth it.”

“You risked your safety?” The harsh facet of his being is making its return in full force.

“For the job,” I’m careful to keep my words factual, “It’s what we’re supposed to do.”

Kaz’s jaw locks. “When I said that keeping you near me would ruin you this is what I meant.”

Is it really this big of a deal? I made it out. “Kaz.”

“This wasn’t my best idea.” His words are leached of anything. “You’re going back home. Tomorrow I’ll arrange the voyage myse--”

“Kaz Brekker you may get to live your life doing anything you want but you don’t get to control mine.” My chin raises an inch, an instinctual act of subtle rebellion. “I am not going back there, even if I’m technically indebted to you because you didn’t return me to my father but that does not mean I’ll--”

“I’m not trying to control you.” His words are sharp, boarding on a yell. “A job like that one wasn’t worth you.”

From Kaz, I know those words are heavy. There’s a lot of things I could say to that. I could tell him that I wanted to do something for him. I could say that I appreciate him telling me that. I could even say that in his own way, Kaz giving Jesper a hard time because he left me, is kind of cute in a misguided way. The thing is I think all of these responses will make things worse.

“Kaz,” I keep my voice as steady as possible, “I’m fine, you’re fine, it all worked out.” Scratching the back of my arm, I exhale gently. “I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.”

I watch him carefully, there’s a slight slump to his shoulders as he exhales. Is the fight leaving him so easily? He walks further into the room. “You better.” He sits down in the space I provided for him slowly. “If you’re not you’ll have worse things to worry about than anything that can happen to you on a job.” He moves his cane forward easily, tapping my knee in a swift motion.

I roll my eyes at the mock threat. “They do say that there’s nothing to fear in the Barrel like the Dirtyhands.”

“Remember that.” Any edge in his voice is forced. I fight against a smile that seems to always want to break across my face whenever I think I see something resembling lightness in Kaz.

“I don’t think I could forget anything about you.”

He turns his head slightly. “You should.”

“Too bad.”

Kaz leans his back against the wall, untensing slightly. “I think you just like disagreeing with me.”

There’s no point in lying about it. “Only because when you argue with me you give me this really particular look.”

“A look?”

Adding insult to injury, I smile. “Sometimes you look like you’re too focused on being angry, like you’re compensating for something.”

Kaz lets out a bitter sigh. “Maybe if you were less of a puppy I wouldn’t have to--”

The laugh that escapes is most definitely a mistake. “Did you just call me a puppy?” I don’t give him a chance to reply, laughter taking over again. “I mean this in the least argumentative way possible--but you’re so weird sometimes.”

He rolls his eyes, tensing. “I’m leaving.”

I stifle the rest of my laughter. “No. I was--I was kidding!” I keep my eyes on Kaz, expecting some type of annoyed glare, but his expression is a lot more weighted than that. Odd. “Kaz?”

“You need to be more careful.” I understand Kaz’s pause as something he does before saying something outside of his nature. “I’m not asking you this as a Crow or a Dreg.”

On instinct, my posture straightens. “I promised and I meant it.”

“Sometimes I wish I could believe in Saints,” his voice has taken off a distant quality, almost fragile, “That way I could believe something existed to help what matters.”

Oh. “You never fail, even if I didn’t believe in Saints I’d believe in you.”

“You’re wasting your faith.” The sound of lightning cracking is almost enough to make me jump. The rain finally came.

I know I’ll never convince him that that’s not true. “I don’t think so, but that’s why it’s called faith.”

“I have faith in some things.” His expression is far off.

“Like what?”

Kaz’s eyes find the window. “People that find meaning in the rain.”

Something in my chest swells. “You’re like the rain.”

We sit there in silence, watching raindrops glide down the window. “What were you reading?”

The question has me dropping my gaze to the forgotten book on my lap. “I stole this book from the palace before I left. It was my mom’s favorite, she’s read it so much the spine’s completely cracked and the cover is practically falling off.”

“Hm…” He mumbles. “Read some, the books read in a palace must be worthwhile.”

A part of me wants to tell him that elitism has no place in literature, but his request leaves me frozen. I nod once, turning to the first page of the book. “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife--”

“Your upbringing makes sense--”

“You can’t judge it off the first sentence,” he’s insufferable, “It’s setting up irony, and if you’re going to complain--”

He lets out a conceding sigh. “I’m listening, I’m not interrupting.”

I keep my eyes on him for a second longer than I should. “Okay.” Dropping my gaze back to the book, I adjust my grip on the worn paperback, “Good.”

And then I keep reading.

@theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship @mentally-in-northern-italy @uhanddreag

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tossawary · 3 years

Note

I need to know more about “SVSSS - Baby Brother Liu Qingge” bc I love tiny and very deadly baby LQG

I have a 3k-ish Shang Qinghua POV that was supposed to be the introduction to this fic concept! So... ah... baby Liu Qingge does not appear in this, but you can see the setup for how an 8yo-ish Liu Qingge was supposed to be introduced. My hope is that this will someday become a "Shang Qinghua and Shen Jiu go on a mission with Baby Brother Liu Qingge" one shot.

-cut-

Shang Qinghua didn't really have the words to describe what it was like having Proud Immortal Demon Way's characters finally come into his second life.

He didn't have the words to describe a lot of his transmigration experience, honestly! His words had described a lot of this world already, haha, hadn't they? Sometimes a person just had to put up with it and keep going.

And then excuse himself later to go scream into a pillow! Many times!

At first, life was just him in a body that didn't fit and strange memories that slipped between his fingers like sand. His memories of a past life had settled eventually, the System finally came fully online, and his relationship with his second family was fully fucked forever. That was fine, though! That was fine! With some unsolicited prodding from his System, he left to go seek his fortune soon enough and he never had to talk to his character's birth parents or siblings again.

But Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had never said much of anything about Shang Qinghua’s family or home village, besides saying that the man had dreamed of more than his mediocre origins, so everything had been unfamiliar and original and real. Getting to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, which he had described in great detail, was a real headfuck. There were no words for the experience of recognizing things that he’d written in another life.

He saw the glistening rainbow bridge and the intimidating sect entrance and the majestic meeting hall on Qiong Ding, and he nearly screamed. He definitely squawked. His vision got really fuzzy for a minute there and he had to sit down on the ground before he fell over. What the fuck?! What the fuck?! He’d made a world! The System had really made a world out of his web-novel! He was really stuck in Proud Immortal Demon Way!

There were upsides and downsides to joining Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. Downsides included: the hard training, the harder workload, the dangerous missions, the disrespect towards An Ding Peak, and being surrounded by arrogant and foolish teenagers looking to look down on someone. It was really something else to look some of them in the eye and think, "Bro, I don’t know your name, but you kind of owe your existence to me. Could you stop being such a fucking asshole about leaving your chores for me to do?! Respect your father!"

Upsides included: actually becoming a cultivator (pretty cool, even though the work of cultivation sucked more often than not), better living accommodations and food, and actually getting to see some of the cooler places, plants, monsters, and magic that were a part of his world. Sure, carting a monster corpse brought in by Bai Zhan Peak to Xi Jiao Peak for butchering was smelly and heavy and altogether miserable, but seeing an impossible animal was still kind of incredible. If this unwilling Shang Qinghua could stop being pushed around and stepped on long enough to appreciate the upsides, he’d really appreciate it!

It was interesting and infuriating to log the differences between what he’d imagined, what he’d written, and what the System had created. What sort of author described every single object in every single room? Who had time for that? Who wanted to read that? The System had filled in all the living details of An Ding Peak - the Leisure Houses, the training grounds, the storehouses, the warehouses, the kitchens, the lesson halls, the leisure gardens, the farming fields, the livestock fields, the stables, the cart lot, the water supply, the sewage systems, and so on - so that people could actually live here. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky as an author had done many things worthy of complaint and criticism, but wasting his readers’ time with sewage systems was not one of them!

The System had also filled in all the little details and decorations - the paintings on the walls of sect history, the detailing on the rooftops supposedly offering protections from dream demons, the chipped and faded paint of old storehouses that disciples would be tasked with replacing, the statues in the fields to scare off scavengers, the carvings on the doors meant to reduce resentful energy, the childish etchings of bored students the surface of the lesson hall desks, the old bench where the An Ding Peak Lord liked to sit and eat flatcakes - so that it really seemed like people had built this place and maintained it and added to it for generations.

Shang Qinghua had his quibbles here and there. Sometimes the System had made choices that he objected to! He would have done it differently if it had asked him, the author, to contribute. He really felt as though the System should have asked him to clarify the plot holes and the gaps in detail, instead of choosing precedence randomly or building off random implications taken way too literally.

Sometimes he found out that the System had built things out of throwaway lines that Shang Qinghua himself had completely forgotten about. It turned out that Ku Xing Peak made a lot of purification tools and containment vessels because Airplane had offhandedly mentioned that this was their specialty, and now Shang Qinghua had to cart around delicate ceramics to be sold to city merchants or other cultivation sects. He never would have dared to write that if he’d known that it would one day in another life be his job to do things like take inventory and chase down signatures for successful deliveries.

Places, items, and creatures were one thing, but logging the differences between the people he met and the characters he’d created was something else. At first it was okay, because he was surrounded by nameless An Ding Peak nobodies - his fellow disciples, their teachers, the hardworking managers and merchants, even the peak lord - none of them had ever mattered in Proud Immortal Demon Way. If Airplane had been the one to name any of them, he didn’t recognize the names or remember them.

Then he met Yue Qingyuan.

Wow, it was a worse headfuck than first arriving at Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, when Shang Qinghua finally realized that this was the young version of one of his actual characters. It took him a minute. As a lowly outer disciple, Shang Qinghua hadn’t received “Qinghua” as a name yet (his name was Houhua, not that anyone ever used it) and the future Yue Qingyuan was still called Yue Qi.

Shang Qinghua was fourteen at the time. Yue Qingyuan must have been around the same age, so he didn’t strike the tall and handsome figure of the sect leader Airplane had described. The boy was broad, but actually a little short. He had freckles. He had acne.

But he also had a warm smile that seemed to go all the way to his eyes when he offered to give Shang Qinghua directions to the right office on Qiong Ding. He had a steady hand when he helped Shang Qinghua up, after the An Ding disciple had suddenly tripped over nothing upon being introduced. Yue Qingyuan - Yue Qi - walked him to the right office and did his best to make small talk, friendly and kind even though Shang Qinghua was having difficulty stringing more than a few words together in his shock.

Even then, it was obvious that the boy was developing the calm surety and the social charm that would make him a greatly admired sect leader someday! It was all Shang Qinghua could do not to blurt out: “Holy shit, you’re REAL?!” Which would be closely followed by: “Hey, is Shen Qingqiu really real too?!” And then maybe closely followed by: “FUCK!!!”

As the years went by, Shang Qinghua met more of Proud Immortal Demon Way’s characters, and it was weird every time. None of them were exactly like he was expecting. He kept expecting… well… he kept expecting them to look like the fanart, like flawless character models, more or less. Instead, he kept getting… people.

Wei Qingwei, head disciple of the sword-focused Wan Jian Peak, was also shorter than he was expecting, kind of stout, with a wide face and a wider smile. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had apparently had the man crack a few jokes upon his rare appearances in the web-novel, usually during tense situations, as he was reminded by the System upon thinking to himself: “Why is this guy LIKE THIS?!” So, because of just a few lines, the real Wei Qingwei had a relentless sense of humor and loved telling jokes.

Upon their first meeting, when Shang Qinghua was fifteen and had been sent over to help renovate some Wan Jian dormitories, fifteen-year-old Wei Qingwei had pretended to fumble a sword and, using a packet of dye and a sleight of hand, made it look like he’d accidentally cut off his own hand at the wrist. Of course Shang Qinghua had screamed and panicked! Anyone would panic! But Wei Qingwei had laughed at him and said, “Got you! Shang-Shidi, the sword wasn’t even unsheathed!” Asshole!

Qi Qingqi, the head disciple of Xian Shu Peak, was much taller than he was expecting. Apparently Airplane had once described a group of some of the peak lords by saying something like: “Each one of them was like a giant to young Luo Binghe.” That group had included Qi Qingqi. The System apparently had taken that to mean that Qi Qingqi was of a height with the likes of Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu. Shang Qinghua discovered this adaptational choice when he was almost sixteen, when this giraffe-like girl came to An Ding Peak to complain about an order someone along the pipeline had dropped completely, and he accidentally found himself (still waiting on a really good growth spurt) eye-level with Qi Qingqi’s chest.

Airplane had apparently once said in Proud Immortal Demon Way that Qian Cao Peak Lord Mu Qingfang appeared a little older than his colleagues, by which he’d probably meant that the man was just tired or something, but this head disciple Mu Qingfang appeared to have ten years on all the other head disciples. Which was good! Shang Qinghua approved of their future head healer not being a teenager and having more training!

On the bad side of things, Airplane had also once said in Proud Immortal Demon Way that the Zui Xian Peak Lord Zhang Qingyan liked his drink too much. This was the peak specializing in alcohol, so it had seemed to make sense! It was supposed to be funny, if anything! Well, at sixteen, Shang Qinghua found out that the System had focused too much on the “too much” part of that statement and now the head disciple of Zui Xian Peak was pretty clearly a budding alcoholic. (Sometimes a cultivator’s constitution and ability to “cure” themselves just… made a person drink more. A lot more.) Which was… not good.

At seventeen, Shang Qinghua met Mobei-Jun.

He didn’t know where to get started with Mobei-Jun.

Somehow he’d… forgotten that Mobei-Jun had been originally based on Airplane’s idea of “the perfect man” and not the super pretty, muscular but slim-waisted protagonist type? The real Mobei-Jun was… tall… and big… and thick. Mobei-Jun’s intimidating features were… more striking than pretty. The first time Shang Qinghua had come back to his Leisure House and found this spoiled brat of an ice demon napping shirtless on his bed, and gotten an eyeful of all that heavy muscle and chest hair, he’d nearly knocked himself out on the doorframe trying to turn away before he had a heart attack.

Mobei-Jun really was going to be the death of him, holy shit.

Especially because this ice demon really was a spoiled brat! Airplane had described this character as being arrogant and apathetic, so now Shang Qinghua had to deal with a Mobei-Jun who took long baths and then carelessly dripped water all over the floor and all over fresh sheets! Who ate all of Shang Qinghua’s cooking and ungratefully only demanded more food, sprawled over furniture not really fit for someone of his size, and then watched Shang Qinghua like a fat tiger! Ahhh, this demon really was lucky he was handsome!

Mobei-Jun was also kind of violent, and mean, which was… well, it sucked.

Back to the sect that Shang Qinghua was now actively betraying, however, as far as he could see, there was still one future peak lord missing.

It wasn’t Shen Qingqiu, who Shang Qinghua had thought would be the last one to show up. Shen Qingqiu had shown up and had been advancing through the ranks of Qing Jing Peak before Shang Qinghua had even met Mobei-Jun, which meant that Yue Qingyuan had finally stopped looking like someone had torn out his soul. (Shang Qinghua had been forced to grit his teeth every time that someone mentioned how privileged that Yue Qingyuan was to have been granted that year of secluded cultivation in the Lingxi Caves at such a young age.)

No, of all the peak lords, it was Liu Qingge who Shang Qinghua had yet to meet.

After meeting Mobei-Jun and becoming an inner disciple, the System had given Shang Qinghua three years to make it to head disciple, probably because the deadline for a new generation of peak lords to ascend was fast approaching. He was working hard to achieve that! Not only did he have to sabotage the current favorite, but he had to make sure all his own training, missions, work, and research were as close to flawless as he could get it! All while keeping an intruding ice demon happy! He wasn’t totally sure that he was going to make it at this rate, even though he’d been here for years.

So it was a little concerning that Liu Qingge hadn't shown up yet. There was so much left to do. A world-state that had yet to be established. Liu Qingge had work to do here!

Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu still had to develop a hatred for each other as disciples that would extend to everyone believing that Shen Qingqiu had murdered Liu Qingge as peak lords, after all. Granted, all Liu Qingge really had to do was beat everyone else on Bai Zhan Peak up to obtain the position, and it wasn’t exactly hard to get Shen Qingqiu to develop a lifelong grudge, but the guy was still cutting it pretty close.

It was possible that Liu Qingge was already on Bai Zhan Peak and making good progress, but that he was just so solitary and focused on searching out the next big battle that Shang Qinghua had just never had the opportunity to meet him. Shang Qinghua did his best to avoid Bai Zhan Peak most of the time, honestly! He was curious about where Liu Qingge was, about what the man looked like, but he didn’t let himself sweat at not seeing the future war god, when he already had so many things to sweat about. The System had taken care of bringing in everyone else, so Shang Qinghua was sure that Liu Qingge would follow sooner or later.

Shang Qinghua’s first sign that something was wrong was that, on the day that Liu Qingge finally announced his existence by beating up everyone on Bai Zhan Peak, everyone was saying things like, “I can’t believe some kid managed to topple all of Bai Zhan like that!”

He… may or may not have ignored this sign.

To be fair to this poor writer-turned-disciple, though, he’d been up all night finishing some paperwork catastrophe the An Ding Peak Lord had thrown at him to fix, as some kind of “test” of his logistics skills. Upon hearing the latest gossip, Shang Qinghua thought, “Oh, finally?” And then his overtired brain collapsed from the effort of thinking two words together in a sentence, and all he could manage from there was to feel the intense need to go to bed at a maximum, static-y volume. No words. No more thinky thoughts. Just the need for speedy sleep.

He stumbled through the rest of his day and then passed out for 18 hours straight. In hindsight, this would have been the time when the gossip was at its hottest. He missed all of it.

When he woke up, everyone was still dealing with the aftermath of what had happened on Bai Zhan Peak, but the conversation had shifted more towards replacing Qian Cao Peak’s depleted supplies and the repairs to Bai Zhan’s training grounds. Liu Qingge was the name on everyone’s lips, still, but everyone knew the basic information now. Now, everyone was just exclaiming over and over again how unbelievably young (and pretty) he was to have bested every other disciple on the sect battle-focused peak. This didn't seem too strange.

The System probably would have based the War God's appearance on his sister, Liu Mingyan, a strong contender for the most beautiful woman in all of Proud Immortal Demon Way. Liu Qingge apparently being a very pretty boy fell neatly into line with all the other character design surprises that Shang Qinghua had gotten smacked with so far.

If Airplane had known that he'd be transmigrating into his novel, maybe there would have been even more handsome men! And everyone would have lived happily ever after and nothing bad would have happened ever, probably, but also there might be more sexy guys too.

TBC

#timetomakeanewwish #tossawary updates #tossawary svsss #shang qinghua #unrealistically young prodigy liu qingge au #ask tossawary

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pinoyrella · 4 years

Text

Haikyuu Boys Throwing a Rock At Your Window

Like you know that “trying to get the attention of someone” cliche mostly from those cheesy American rom-com films? Yeah THAT throwing rocks at your window

FT: Bokuto Koutaro, Ushijima Wakastoshi, and our one and only Miya Atsumu x GN!READER

GENRE: Mostly CRACK, Fluff (mostly Ushijima’s).

Word Count- Total: 4,900 +

Ushijima’s: 1,502.

Bokuto’s: 1,166.

Atsumu’s + Bonus: 2,297

TW: A lot of cursing, esp w Atsumu’s. there are a few slight NSFW jokes (im sorry im like this)

Quick PSA: (before we begin!!)

1. I just wanna thank my bb @babydontstoop for staying up w me until 3 am in the morning thinking of this stupid shit, love her so much we got more ideas coming soon!!

2. Also im so sorry the first half of atsumu’s is basically just inarizaki shenanigans, i don’t know why its there or how it even got to that, but imma just keep it there for the sake that maybe some of you guys might enjoy it and i spent so much time on it asdghkd ToT. i added a little “start” if you want to skip the the x reader content tho!! I hope you guys enjoy my first work!! MWAH ILY!! Thank you so much again!!

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

Ushijima Wakatoshi

I feel like our ushi gushy would be in on it

But only bc Tendou influenced him telling him it's what ppl do nowadays

“Wakatoshi-Kun ur not throwing hard enough I don’t think she heard it”

And he would just look at him n be like “ok”

THEN THROWS IT W THE SAME STRENGTH HE USES TO SPIKE

AFSDGHJK RIP Y/N

It definitely did not only smashed thru ur window, it winds up denting ur wall

“Wakatoshi-kun~” Tendou’s cheerful voice pops into Ushijima’s dorm. “It’s time to give me back this week’s “Jump”! I brought a new one, it’s a bit different from what I’ve been giving you to read!”

“I’ve just finished reading “Removes Unnecessary Hair and Leaves Skin Feeling Silky Smooth” Ushijima replies monotonously with said manga in his grasp.

“You’re still reading the adverts? I told you last time to just focus on the manga.” Tendo takes the shounen manga from Ushijima’s hands and closes it. “This one is sure to keep you focused on the story this time! Plus, it may help you with your lack of romance situation.” He says as he plops a copy of a popular shoujo manga in his friend’s palms. “Anyways, I got to go, tell me your impressions later~” Tendo strolls out, letting the door to Ushijima’s dorm shut on its own.

Ushijima watches the door shut, before turning his attention back to the manga his best friend spontaneously left in his hand. ‘Lack of romance?’

The following day strolls around and Tendo is first to greet his friend. “Wakatoshi-kun~” Ushijima turns and greets him back with a low “good morning” before continuing his pace to class.

“So, tell me what did you think of the manga I gave you the other day?” The red haired man says, stretching his arms over his head, giving the stoic man a quirky smile as he makes his way to his seat. Ushijima opens his leather bag to take out the shoujo manga Tendo gave him the other day, handing it to his friend before replying. “It was pleasant.”

Tendo blinks before letting out a restless sigh, taking the pink-covered manga from his friend’s hand before plopping into his seat, head down to the desk. “ “It was pleasant?” What are we going to do with you Wakatoshi-kun, and to think I had hope when you told me you were finally going to confess to y/n.”

Ushijima stays silent, watching his friend.

Tendo looks up, a hand under his chin, before turning back to his buddy. “Have you thought of how you were going to confess yet?”

Ushijima lets out a low “no” before Tendo goes back to losing it over his friend. “That’s what the manga was for! I thought it’d help you come up with an idea…”

Ushijima stays silent, watching his friend break down once again. Before turning his gaze to the door, as you stroll in greeting your classmates a “good morning” before settling down at your desk. Of course you don’t go unnoticed to Tendo as well, he caught his friend turning his head towards your direction the moment you walked in. You give a small smile and wave to both Tendo and Ushijima, Ushijima giving back an awkward yet sincere small smile and wave. The sweet look of innocence and love linger on his best friend’s face, even after he turned around to face the board’s direction. Tendo can’t leave his friend unhelped, especially not with that god-awkward smile he gave you. Then pwoosh an idea strucks him.

“Wakatoshi-kun” Tendo whispers, catching the attention of his friend, before leaning into his ear.

“Tendo.” “Wakatoshi-kun!” Tendo sprints lightly towards his friend, both freshly changed into their casuals, after the day’s worth of volleyball practice. It’s barely half past 6:30pm, the two tall men stand outside your dorm’s building. “Follow me~” Tendo begins to walk off around the corner, stopping just a few windows down, then looking up, pointing towards a window that is slightly covered by (insert ur fav color) curtains, and a few stickers stuck to the glass of the window. The lights were on, letting them know you were in your dorm. Ushijima visibly tenses up after reaching where his friend stood. “Don’t worry, this is their room, I know those animal crossing stickers from anywhere.” Tendo reassures his friend. Ushijima slowly relaxes before bending down to pick up a rock. “Is this okay?” he asks his friend, just remembering the short flashback of what his friend whispered into his ear earlier that day.

“Wakatoshi-kun~” Tendo calls out to his friend, then leaning in towards his ear. “I have an idea! Semi was telling me about this scene from a romance movie he saw last week. It’s what all the cool kids do in America to get the attention of the person they like!” Explaining the details to his friend, before the bell rang signifying that class has just begun.

“Yes! That rock looks perfect, now aim for their window!” His friend lets out a clap before shooting his fingers towards your window.

Ushijima adjusts his stance, getting ready to toss the rock towards your window. Tendo watches in anticipation, as Ushijima finally lets go of the rock after sending it flying up. The rock lightly taps your window, the two wait restlessly, feeling as 5 minutes have passed, but really was 30 seconds.

Tendo picks up the same rock from the ground and places it in Ushijima’s left hand. “Wakatoshi-kun, you’re not throwing hard enough! I don’t think they didn’t hear it.” The tall man nods as began to adjust himself once more, putting all his energy into the rock in his left hand, determined to grab your attention. but just as he lets go of the rock, the window opens, and reveals you standing there, looking down at the two boys confused. Tendo and Ushijima’s eyes widened at the sight of you, but it was too late, the rock was already tobe flying towards you. “Tendo-san? Ushi-” before you finish your sentence, you finally notice the rock launching in your direction, thanking your quick reflexes, you dodge it just barely. You turn and watch in slow-mo as the rock hits your closet door, leaving a deep dent and a scratch.

Stunned, you stare at the dent before walking over to pick the rock up, and heading back towards your window. “Really?” You say out loud in a jokingly sarcastic tone, holding the rock up for the two boys to see, while trying your best not to laugh at the series of events before you. You know this situation oh too well, especially from a certain scene after binge watching rom-coms with your cousin Semi the other week.

The two men just stare at you, with nothing to say, before Tendo lets out a burst of laughter. You gave in as well and began laughing with him. Ushijima lets out a low laugh.

“Stay there!” You yell down, before closing your window and making your way downstairs to meet the boys.

“Anyways, I got to go! Tell me her impressions later~” Tendo gives Ushijima a pat on the back before sprinting away from this whole situation.

Ushijima stays there, awaiting your arrival. He turns after hearing heavy pants, seeing you bent forward slightly, facing him with a hand on your knee, and the other still holding onto the rock he had unintentionally launched at you. “Jesus.. Sorry give me a second” Ushijima nods, staring at your figure. Although hair disheveled, out of breath and face as red as a tomato from having to run down a flight of stairs and around the corner to meet him, he still thinks you’re the most beautiful person he has ever laid eyes on. After a few seconds, you prop yourself up, eyes staring into his. Now it was Ushijima’s turn to turn bright red, in fact, realization hit him, it was just the two of you alone, behind a building, “oh how scandalise Wakatoshi-kun.” he can imagine Tendo saying that to him.

You two just stand there for a second, staring into each other’s eyes before you began. “I think you dropped this.” You tell him with a slight giggle. Ushijima lets out a small laugh with you, as he grabs the rock in your palm, your hands brushing against each other, making the stoic man turn redder. “Thank you.” he says softly. “Next time, just come to me, this is a little too cliche for the big old Ushijima Wakatoshi, no?” Crossing your arms, you gave him another smile. GOD was he captivated. If he didn’t have any restrain, he would have leaned down and kissed you then and there. His grasp on the rock tightens slightly, thoughts running before a small peck is felt onto his cheek. He snaps out of his imagination before noticing how close your face was to his. “But that was still, a very cute and very dangerous attempt.” You chuckle once again before stepping back.

“See you tomorrow in class Ushijima-san” You wink before turning back to your dorm.

Ushijima stands there bewildered. A hand going to the cheek you have left an imprint of your lips on. He has his best friend Tendo to thank later. If these silly cliches will lead to your sweet smile and a peck on the cheek, he can’t wait to continue the sweet gestures your future relationship has yet to come.

Bokuto Koutaro

My sweet sweet baby boy

He does NOT know his own strength

He uses a big rock too

You hear a panicked “AKAAAASHI!!!”

Apparently Akaashi tried to stop him after Bo told him of his scheme, but failed to, so instead of letting him go alone, he went w him to make sure Bokuto wouldn’t get himself into TOO much trouble. U kno supervisor n shit

“Akaashi!!!” Bokuto greets his underclassman, sliding into the seat beside him as the quiet man takes out his lunch, slowly unwrapping it. “Good afternoon Bokuto-san.”

“Akaashi! You know y/n right?! And you know how long I’ve liked them, and wanted to confess my feelings right?” Bokuto asks excitedly. “How can I forget, they’re in my class, in fact-” Akaashi leans a bit to the left, pointing his thumb backwards to his shoulder, showing you perched on your desk with your headphones in, eyes closed as you had just taken a savory bite from the meal you had prepared for yourself at home before class. Bokuto short circuits before he lets out a cry of despair, his head falling to the desk, before picking himself back up and shoving his face close to Akaashi’s. “Why didn’t you tell me!! Did you think they heard what I said? Akaashi I can’t believe you! You should warn me about this!!” He whispers before moving his eyes back to you, watching you serenely chew the food in your mouth, everything you do leaves him absolutely speechless, oh god how he wished he was the food in your mouth.

Before Akaashi could reply to ask his friend to move farther away, your eyes open and immediately dart towards the unfamiliar classmate in your classroom.

“Bo!” You immediately stand up, grabbing your lunch before making your way to sit behind him and Akaashi. “Try this! I made it this morning, it’s still fresh, say AH~” You hold your chopsticks towards his face, waiting for him to take a bite. It’s like the embarrassment and worry of you hearing him liking you left his head, he smiles at you before taking a bite of what is on the chopstick. He begins chewing, tasting the savory flavor of your dish, wishing he could wake up everyday to your cooking. “Y/n this is delicious!!!” He replies ecstatically. You giggle in response, using the chopsticks in your hand to pick off the rice stuck to his bottom lip, before dropping it back into your lunchbox, Bokuto unintentionally lets out a “NO!” as he lightly grabs your wrist, placing the chopstick back into his mouth to catch the rice. “Don’t waste it, it’s so good!” He pouts and you try to hold yourself from laughing at how adorable he is. “Bokuto-san, it was just a grain of rice.” “Akaashi! Don’t say that about y/n’s cooking!” He retorts. You let out another chuckle before digging into the bottom compartment of the lunch box, to grab another pair of chopsticks. “Let’s share yeah?” At this point, Bokuto remembers why he fell for you all over again.

“I have to use the restroom before lunch ends! Akaashi watch my stuff?” You ask the quiet boy, “Of course” “Thanks!!!” You say before sprinting off. “Bokuto-san” Akaashi attempts to call out to Bokuto, but he’s still in a trance as he watched your figure disappear out of the classroom and into the hallway. “Bokuto-san” Bokuto whips his head towards his friend smiling brightly. “Did you want to tell me something earlier about y/n?” He asks him. “YES! I have figured out the perfect plan to confess to them!” Akaashi sits, his face contorts into curiosity, listening to what his friend has in mind.

“Bokuto-san”

“And I’m thinking, I’d wait outside her window and-”

“Bokuto-san”

“I have this rock in my hand right?! I’ll figure the right time to throw and-”

“BOKUTO-SAN”

“AKAAAAASHI!! What is it? Did you get lost in my amazing plan?”

“Bokuto-san, this doesn’t..” He pauses for a second, trying to find a way to slowly put down his friend’s idea, after hearing how excited he sounds for it too. “I don’t think- why don’t you just tell them? Write them a letter... Or buy a bouquet of flowers or chocolate, something that isn’t.. Illegal..” He whispers the last word, it trails his mouth.

“Akaashi you don’t understand! Y/n’s different! They deserve a unique confession! They don’t deserve a regular and common confession, they deserve something grand! Something like my idea!” Bokuto replies happily.

Akaashi lets out a sigh. ‘Well at least I tried…

Wrong.’

And this is where Akaashi found himself on a Friday night, standing beside Bokuto in front of your residence. He had thought, if he couldn’t stop his best friend, why not at least supervise him, at least he could try to physically stop him if things get out of hand, right?

Wrong.

“Oi” Akaashi hears a familiar voice and turns his head towards the direction. ‘Konoha-san?!” Akaashi’s thoughts were interrupted by Bokuto greeting his other friend. “Konoha! You’re just in time, come on let’s go!” Bokuto lets himself past your gate. “What-” “Bokuto told me about his plan, I had to see it.” Konoha lets out a smirk before pushing Akaashi past the gates with him.

The three make their way to the side of the house, finding the window to your room before stopping. Konoha tries to suppress his laughter, and Akaashi stands there bewildered. ‘Holy shit Bokuto-san’s actually going to do it.’ He freaks out internally.

Bokuto dips his head to the floor, picking up the biggest rock he could find before turning to face his two friends. “Now, this is true romance!” He says excitedly, switching the rock to his dominant hand, and getting ready to launch, the veins in his arm protruding.

Konoha is trying, AND I MEAN TRYING, his best to not laugh too soon, a hand over his mouth and the other hand on Akaashi’s shoulder to ground himself. Akaashi’s brain realizes the situation, the veins popping from Bokuto’s arm, his beefy muscles flexing, his strength- and before he could- “Bokuto-san wait!”

SHATTER

Akaashi stands there in shock as Konoha falls to the ground in complete laughter. Bokuto stops functioning as he begins to slowly turn his head towards his two friends. “AKAASHI!!!” He screams in horror, Akaashi’s internal thoughts begin to spiral, thinking of what to do, and the laughter of Konoha’s is NOT helping.

You on the other hand, were located in the kitchen, when you heard the sound of glass breaking. You run outside in your pajamas, cooking apron and bunny slippers, and your trusty spatula still in hand as your weapon. Turning the corner of your house, you see them. Facing the three boys. “Akaashi? Bo? Konoha?” You ask in confusion. Akaashi’s brain is losing it, Konoha is laughing his ass off, and Bokuto stands there looking at you like a deer in headlights before jumping into you with his arms out. “Y/n!!! I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to break your window! I just wanted to tell you how much I love you with a grand confession but-” You wrap your arms around Bokuto returning the embrace, before your gaze turns to the two boys, then to the broken glass surrounding their feet, and finally looking up to your bedroom window, as you finally process Bokuto’s confession. “WHAT?!”

Miya Atsumu

This motherfker, “would do it on purpose but accidently”.

“Hey samu look how hard i can throw this rock”

He throws it and cracks ur window

He would RUN away, he be like “SHIT SHIT SHIT”

You bet Suna’s in the background recording all of this.

Gin’s the getaway driver bc he's prob the most responsible one of the four second years, or at least most likely to get their driver’s license first ykwim

“GO GO GO GO”

The Inarizaki volleyball club room is filled with chattering, the volleyball fanatics converse with each other. It seems a bit off today, a little too calm… before Osamu walks in irritated. The boys chattering dies down as they turn to the wing spiker, all is well until- “OI ‘SAMU!” There it is. The blonde strolls in after his younger twin. “OI!” “holy shit ‘tsumu shut the fuck up or so god help me im about to make myself an only child” “RUDE!” As always, the Miya twins make a grand entrance, every single day, right before practice. Before Atsumu could scream another word, he catches the gaze of Kita, the stares of daggers stopping him in place, reminding him where he is. Atsumu gulps and begins to get undressed.

The conversations between the boys continue where they were left, before the Miyans arrived. “Hey Gin, congrats on your driver’s license!” Akagi praises Ginjima before jumping to ruffle his hair. “Oh? Nice.” Suna congratulates. Aran comes around and wraps his arm loosely around Ginjima’s shoulder “This calls for a celebration, what do you say captain?” He turns to look at Kita, waiting for his response. “I suppose why not. Let’s get to practice.” He replies, being the first to head out.

Cut to the chase, the boys make their ways home to prepare for the “fun” evening that’s about to come. Ginjiima stops by each of his teammates' houses, picking them up, as saving the Miyas for last. “Oh my god” Osamu lets out frustration as he watches Ginjima pull up, Atsumu is STILL getting dressed. “5-more minutes my ass” He mutters before going out and making his way to his friends’ car. Osamu short circuits, counting the seats in the car. “Gin- what kind of car is this?” “This baby right here?” He steps out of the car and slaps the top roof. “It’s my parents’ old 2002 toyota alphard.” He says proudly. “There’s so many seats holy fuck.” He says before heading in, making his way past Aran and Kita, sitting between Omimi and Suna all the way back.

“Where’s piss hair?” Suna asks Osamu, buckling his seatbelt in. Ginjima made his way back inside as well. “Idk idc, hit it Ginjima.” The team lowkey lets out an internal sigh of relief. Ginjima starts the car and begins backing up before Atsumu comes running out in Osamu’s jacket. “WAITTTT” “NO GINJIMA GO!” Aran, Suna and Osamu yell. Ginjima not having the heart to leave his homie behind, stops the car. An audible grunt comes out of the boys. “Y’all be bullying me everyday :,( “ “Awh don’t say that, Omimi doesn’t” Omimi sitting there thinking. ‘No no I do, in my mind.’

“Whatever, let’s go!” Atsumu short circuits noticing the seats in the car as he opens the door. “Where.. Where am I gonna sit?” Ginjima turns around counting the seats, realizing he’s missing one more for the blonde. “Oh shit! I forgot to install the 8th seat, there's supposed to be one going in between Aran and Kita-san.” Atsumu blinks. “Well guess that means you can’t go.” Osamu bluntly lets out. “WHAAAAT” “Go on the roof.” Suna suggests. “NO NO DO NOT GO ON THE ROOF.” “WAIT I WANT THE ROOF!” “That’s a hazard and illegal” Ginjima, Akagi and Kita let out at the same time. “Why not just sit on the floor.” Omimi says. “It’s just going to be on the way there anyways.” “That’s a good point” Aran compliments. “That is also illegal.” “Shin just this once! Come on get in I’m getting hungry!” Akagi claps his hands and faces forward. Atsumu climbs in, and as he sits down he looks up behind him. Osamu sent a glare down towards his brother. “W-what?” “That’s MY jacket, isn’t it?” “NO IT’S NOT!” The poor blond is kicked forward by his brother. This is gonna be a long ride.

Wait. “Uh Gin.” “Yeah?” “Where are we going?” Gin pauses. “Where do you guys wanna go?” “Oh my god we really didn’t plan this through.” “MCDONALDS!!” “Oh! Good thinking Akagi-san.” “There’s a special with pokemon cards right?” “Ah, my younger brother loves collecting pokemon cards, I’ll be sure to get one for him.” Aran and Kita converse. “Turn and make a left on Kinugakecho Suma-Ward.” The team turns their heads to Suna. He then pans his phone to them, showing the address to the nearest McDonalds on google maps.

“8 happy meal boxes please.” Kita-san asks the cashier, he pays before seating with the others.

“Oh my god I’m so hungry.” Suna lays his head on the table “I’m so excited!!” Akagi jumps in his seat, “Thank you Kita-san” Ginjima thanks his captain. “You really didn’t have to pay for all of it, you should have at least split with me, it was my suggestion to go out and celebrate.” Aran signs laying his chin under his fist. “It’s no worries, it’s nice to treat my teammates out once in a while, even if I don’t condone this unhealthy diet. Just this once is okay.” Kita smiles and Omimi nods.

The food comes in and the 8 boys dig into their little happy meal boxes, in the style of pikachu. “Holy fuck these are so cute.” Suna be admiring the yellow box.“ ‘SAMU THAT WAS MY SWEET&SOUR SAUCE” “GROSS DON’T TALK WITH YOUR MOUTH FULL!” Osamu shoves Atsumu’s cheeseburger back in his mouth. Kita clears his throat and the twins silence. “We are in public please for once be decent.” Aran scolds.

After the meal, the boys sit in their booth content. “Omg guys, pokemon card unboxing haul lets go.” Akagi pulls out the little enveloped deck containing the cards, the other boys, besides Kita, follow. “You guys go ahead, I’m saving mine for my brother.” “Shinsuke” Omimi hands Kita the envelope. “He can have mines too.” Aran hands him over as well. “Yeah, I wouldn’t know what to do with it either, I’m sure your lil bro would love it.” Kita gives his two other seniors a sweet smile and thanks them. The five other boys begin to unwrap, and reveal each other the pokemon cards they got. “Yo can I have your Snorlax.” Suna leans into Osamu. “I’ll trade it for my packet of ketchup.”

The boys head out, Ginjima dropping Omimi, Akagi, Aran and Kita off in that order. Atsumu lets out a whine before the three boys that are left face him. “I don’t want this night to end yet.” The three turn to look at each other before turning back to look at their setter. “Well what else do you wanna do?” “Can we just sit and vibe together, we bros anyways.” Ginjima blinks before asking Suna if he would like to do as said plan. “I mean sure, Suna?” “I don’t mind as long as it’s chill with you.” “Osamu?” “ ‘S your car. Plus whatever this idiot does, most of the time there’s not much of a say in my case” He replies. Ginjima pulls into an empty parking lot of a park. Suna has control of the aux, playing chill music.

The moment feels really nice, just four high school bros, the homies, chilling and vibing at an empty parking lot, listening to Suna’s playlist, a bit past 9pm. These are one of the memories you will find to cherish after graduating high school.

Kodak Black’s “Heart & Mind” starts playing.

The four begin to sing to the song, yeah this is going to be one of those high school memories.

The three boys go quiet, letting Atsumu scream Plies’ chorus. Osamu whistles; “SHEEESH” Suna lets out a laugh. “He’s really feeling it” Ginjima joins in. Before the three begin to sing Kodak Black’s lines again. By the end of the song the boys fall into a pit of laughter.

--start of the actual atsumu x y/n part ToT i’m so sorry--

“Hey I wanted to tell you guys earlier, I think I’m ready to confess to y/n.” The setter admits, laying into the seat with a small smile. “They’re going to say no.” “‘SAMU!” “I’m kidding.” “Wow, never thought you’d have the balls.” Suna laughs with Osamu. “Did the song do this or?” Ginjima asks. “Quit ya teasin and hear me out! >:(“ Atsumu crosses his arms and pouts. “Okay okay sorry, but no seriously takes some guts. Have you thought of when you were going to confess to ‘em?” Osamu reassures his brother and asks. Atsumu pauses and puts his finger under his chin in a thinking pose, before a light bulb clicks. “How about right now?!” He says excitedly. “Right now?” Suna does a lil double take. “Atsumu it’s-” Ginjima looks at the clock in his car. “9:37 right now. 9:37 PM. PM!” “They could be asleep.” Suna butts in. “No-no listen, LISTEN GUYS!” Atsumu quiets his friends down before explaining to them the whole cliche scenes in those American rom-com movies. “That sounds so fucking stupid. I’m in.”

And this is how the four boys end up, in front of your house. “This feels so creepy and illegal.” Osamu shivers, feeling a bit cold by the night weather. “I’m pretty sure this is illegal, throwing rocks at someone's window I mean.” Ginjima furrows his eyebrows. “Tsumu you sure about this.” “It nerf or nothing!” “I think you mean it’s now or never.” “Same thing!” He argues with his brother. Suna has his phone out, ready to record whatever the outcome of this stupid and last minute plan is. The four make their way past your yard, trying to find your light colored curtains, indicating it is in fact your room. “I’m surprised you know where their room is.” “Yet he doesn’t know the quadratic formula.” “ ‘samu!” He hisses before bending over to pick up a rock. “Hey ‘Samu, look how hard I can throw this rock.” This level of confidence did NOT sound good. Atsumu begins to count down before the three freeze up, Ginjima and Osamu letting the reality of the situation sink it. “Wait Atsumu-” “DUMBASS WAIT” Suna standing there unbothered, getting everything on camera before.

SHATTER

The four boys stand in shock, even Suna taken back by the loud sound of glass breaking. He pans the camera to Atsumu before panning up to the window of your room. The lights turn on and you make your way to the window, at first startled but now pissed being woken up, but also now absolutely confused and horrified by the broken glass that fell from your window to the ground below. “SHIT SHIT SHIT” Atsumu begins to book it, grabbing Ginjima and Osamu’s wrists, Suna following, phone still in hand recording. As you see four silhouettes begin to run in the dead of the night, you see a familiar piss shade of yellow and a maroon jacket as they run. The four jump into the car before Ginjima begins to start the engine. Before they drive off, Atsumu takes out the McDonald’s receipt, writing a quick apology and his number before taking out his wallet and throwing whatever cash he had, running back to your doorstep and placing it under your welcome mat. “GO GO GO GO.” He yells as he jumps into the car, the four speeding away.

By the time you reach your front door in attempt to catch the perpetrators, you notice the wrapped up receipt under your welcome mat, pulling it out and unfolding it, revealing a couple 1 dollar bills and a single 5. Confused you read the note, the hand writing almost ineligible.

“Y/N IM SO SORRY IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, WELL PURPOSELY PLANNED BUT STILL AN ACCIDENT. PLEASE CALL ME SO WE CAN TALK THIS OUT I JUST WANTED TO TELL YOU-” The rest of his writing ineligible. You look at the phone number he left and his signed signature, with a heart beside it.

“What the fuck.”

Bonus:

Atsumu again bc he’s- I have no words for him (I love him so much but like its a diff kinda love ifkyky)

But imagine y/n having a brother and atsumu going to the wrong window

And busting a rock thru y/n-brother’s window

And the four just hear “WHAT THE FUCK” in a deep male voice that’s not urs, and the lights turn on and atsumu’s like-

He can feel the soul leaving his body

Bc that dumbass not only broke a window it wasnt even ur window

He dragged Gin out of the car and hit that pedal so hard leaving everyone but himself there on your lawn.

“Are you sure this is where their room is?” Ginjima asks worried. “This seems very very VERY dangerous and illegal.” “GIN! You’re startind to sound like Kita-san, relaaaax I know what I’m doin!” “Doesn’t sound like it” “‘SAMU!!” The twins bicker.

“Actually, I’m heading back to my car this is making me a bit queasy.” The sand-brown haired boy said before turning back to his car. “Up to ya, be our getaway driver yeah?” Atsumu gives a thumbs up before the Ginjima nods and separates from the three, leaving them on their own.

By the time they make their way to what Atsumu thought was your room. He’s already bending over picking up the biggest rock he sees“ ‘Samu, look how hard I can throw this rock!”

“Tsumu don’t-” It was too late. The blonde sends the rock flying to the window. Just as the rock makes contact, the glass shatters and Atsumu is left there in shock, Osamu and Suna as well.

A scream of “WHAT THE FUCK” in the deepest voice is heard emitting from the now open window. Now that can’t be y/n.

The lights turn on and before the two knew it, Atsumu was already booking it back to the car. Suna recording the speed Atsumu was at.

“Hey Atsumu, done already? Wheres-” The door to the driver's seat opens. Ginjima confused, he yelps when Atsumu grabs him and drags him out of the car, getting in and shutting the door before he starts up the engine. “W-WHAT?!” Ginjima stands confused before turning around to see Osamu and Suna run towards him. “GET BACK HERE.” The sound of your brother’s voice rings out and that was Atsumu’s queue to skrrrrt away. Leaving his three friends on your lawn. “TSUMU!” Good luck Gin, Suna and Osamu to deal with your now raging brother.

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

Extras: (IM CRACKING UP HELP) 😭

Author’s Note:

Guys I am so sorry I didn’t intend to let these fics drag out for so long, also for not making sense. ESPECIALLY ATSUMU’S. But thank you so much again for taking the time to read this, I really appreciate it even though my work is total shit like headass. If you have the time, please lemme kno what you think! I’d love to hear what you guys have to say! Anyways I hope you all take care and have a great time, stay safe! Hopefully my future work won’t be as shitty. I’ll work to it, thank you so so much again! MWAH I LOVE Y’ALL!!! 🥺💖

edit: rereading the first half of atsumu’s, i think i kno why i dragged that out, im just over here missing my high school homies a lil too much </3

231 notes · View notes

mira--mira · 3 years

Note

Question from an aspiring writer:

How do you stay motivated on one project for such a long time?

I personally have the attention span of a goldfish, and whenever I have an idea I either have to write down everything my brain can spew immediately or have it be lost in the void for eternity.

Never mind going back and turning my outline into a fic or gasp editing.

Do you have any tips and/or tricks you use?

Ok, I got completely carried away with this just fyi, but hopefully I ended up answering your actual question 😂 tl;dr at the bottom.

To be honest, staying motivated is a tricky thing, one that I feel I'm still learning how to do even now and varies a bit between shortfics/oneshots and multi-chaptered fics/longfics. For a bit of background, I've been writing fanfic for about a year and a half, but I've been writing original fiction since I was seven, over a decade and a half, and I still wrestle with it. It's definitely a learning process.

One thing I wish someone would have told me when I was starting out was the power of ~scenes~ in either multi-chapters or one-shots. All writing is ultimately made up of scenes, but if you're struggling to put things together, focusing on an individual scene, or multiple short scenes, might help you focus on getting something completed, and it's something that eventually can be applied to longer works as well. Writing has been a snowball process for me and once I started getting anything completed, I felt more secure in knowing what I could write comfortably and what was out of my comfort zone, eventually getting to the point where I felt comfortable tackling bigger and longer projects and knowing I could stay with them.

OoT's interlude chapters and the snippet series are both good examples of scenes because I wrote them with that intention...even if most of them are actually two or three scenes combined. "Gai meets Hashirama and Madara", "Hashirama gets revenge on Kakashi", "Tatsuki and Hashirama pick flowers for Madara, then give them to him" etc. were all my starting points.

If you're first starting out and feel comfortable with outlines of some sort before you start writing I would encourage you to try and write down a bullet point list of your scene(s) and what you know you want to happen in it.

"Gai meets Hashirama and Madara"

* Hashirama meets Gai first, mistakes him for Lee.

* Madara is shopping for a gift for Hashirama

* Madara finds Gai and Hashirama, they spar, Gai kicks his ass, both of them love him.

This is how my initial outline looked for the first interlude chapter, technically each one of these "points" are their own scenes stuck together. Outlining is different for everyone, some people like super specific points, others even less detail than this. For me this is a nice middle that gives me a roadmap for the chapter, but allows plenty of room to naturally diverge and add detail. Play around with outlines and see what you're comfortable with/what gives you the best results.

I'm not sure of your individual situation, but if you're struggling to put together fics in general something like this might help. Doing this process again and again personally helps me stay on track and gives me a sense of progress.

This sense of progress is ultimately key and why I think motivation differs slightly between one-shots/short fics and longfics. If you confine the individual scene to a one-shot, that might give you the motivation to complete it. Even if you start writing and you get interrupted/can't finish having in one setting, bullet points sometimes help inspire me to finish because I'm not starting from scratch when I return to writing. The whole "eat an elephant one piece at a time" thing was difficult for me to learn, but ultimately proved true. Learning to chip away at something bit by bit is going to be the only (healthy) way to write longer projects you can't complete in one sitting.

For longer projects, it's a similar beast just on bigger levels and with an added dimension. I would actually suggest something similar to OoT for a starting project because it is ultimately broken up into arcs that you know and can reference, instead of making a lot of og content for a fan setting. Maybe not go into it thinking, 'I'll do a complete rewrite' but once you feel like you're ready for a longer project 30K+ or so, the rough outline method and the ability to follow arcs was what got me started when I eventually decided to make the fic multi-chaptered. Try writing one arc and keep yourself contained in that. Now the added dimension aspect in general for longfics is that you eventually want to plot individual chapters in a multi-chaptered longfic and individual arcs (character, plot, etc). This comes with practice. I honestly don't think there's a way to get around that. It's something that I'm still trying to work on and I can look back at my early work and see how I've improved, how I can recognize where things didn't go well in certain places, and how I would change them if I was writing today. That's a good thing to be able to do, it means you've grown! The other thing I find that helps with staying motivated week after week for longer projects is to roughly know where you're going and to try to be excited about a plot point/scene/chapter/etc that you're going to write. Really try to hype yourself up. For me, it's a moment that comes at the very end of the chunin arc and I start grinning even thinking about it because I know it's going to be awesome. It's always what gets me through the rough days, imagining the moment I'll get to actually write that scene in its entirety (it's definitely already outlined and I mentally play it out at least twice a week lol) and is a big motivating drive.

So far I think this is pretty standard stuff if you're an outliner and you've been writing for a few years, but the other thing motivational-wise for me is having a schedule. From reading this message alone, I would not suggest it for you right away. Get comfortable finishing small things and feeling confident that if you let an idea sit for a week or two, you can pick it back up and continue. But if you eventually dip your toes into longfics (and don't plan to pre-write everything before you publish) that routine and rhythm really helps keep me going. I've made a commitment, I've posted it online, I'm going to stick to it. No one is going to jump down my throat if I fail to keep it (this is still a hobby and having fun is the most important thing) but in my mind I should commit to it unless something irl prevents me from doing so. Don't put a tight deadline on yourself, I'd start with once a month or if you write shorter chapters every three weeks. This also would help you build up and get a readership, interaction being another big motivational key.

Also, it's important to accept that sometimes you bite off more than you can chew, and when you feel completely demotivated from a fanfic project...it's okay to drop it. It's okay to take a step back and work on something else. Maybe you'll come back to it, maybe you won't. If you can, try to pinpoint what it was about that project that made you demotivated, were you pushing yourself too much and you got burnt out, was it an ongoing series and your interest for canon lagged and so did the fic, was it just too stressful to keep juggling plotpoints, etc. and keep that in mind moving forward. Every experience can be a learning one and eventually make you a better writer that can eventually tackle those bigger projects. Don't be afraid to take on big aspirational projects, but don't walk into them blind either. Above all, and this is repeated a lot because it's true, enjoy what you write. Some days you might not. That's true with anything, but any project you take on the good should outweigh the bad.

This is my wrap up of the motivational section but I also wanted to throw my two-cents in about editing because "oh no editing" is a perspective I've seen from a lot of writers, and used to have myself, but I think is going to stifle your progress in the long run.

Here's the thing: you need to look forward to editing.

You don't have to be jumping for joy, but editing, imo, should be a positive thing. You have all these great ideas, you made it into a fic, something you wrote, and now you get to go back and make it even better! This is a tough attitude to adopt. I'm not going to pretend otherwise. It took me a long time to unlearn the negative attitude and even then sometimes I still wish the editing was already done once I type in the last period. But I've learned to at least appreciate what editing does and I try to think to myself as I'm going through and making changes things like "wow, this suddenly became so much better. X plot point that I thought of ten pages from now is suddenly being hinted at and doesn't come out of left field. The transition points are a lot cleaner, it's not so jarring anymore. I bet the readers are going to love this little detail. Here's some foreshadowing that I hope someone picks up bc it's going to come back in like 5 chapters from now" it's hard, especially when you start, but this is something you made, and now are actively making better and that's something to celebrate.

I hope this helps anon! I know it's a lot and I'm by no means an expert but I've been doing this for more than a decade because I love it and I want to help others get into writing to! I have no problem answering any writing questions you may have if you find this helpful!

tl;dr

-motivation is slightly different between short/long fics.

-starting out, learn to outline by scenes and focus on finishing small projects and getting to a point where you feel like you can put something down and come back and pick it up again in a week. Completion is key and will help you feel satisfied/know your limits.

-long projects also can work on the scene-to-scene outline but now with individual chapters and individual arcs. It's tough to balance both but comes with practice. Bit-by-bit is key, as is having 'one moment you can't wait to write', possibly a schedule if it works for you, and reader feedback are all huge long-term motivational points.

-editing is tough but learn to look forward to it instead of dreading it.

edited: added a bit more/few typos fixed

#asks #anon #writing advice #god i hope this is understandable #long post

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royaletiquette · 3 years

Text

Okay, bios are finished being updated! Since it's been 5yrs since I touched it much. There’s a lot I don’t know how/where to fit in, but I don’t love overly detailed bios anyways so I’ll deal. it’s lengthy as is.

Also for rules, I added/warned that I’m a lot faster on replies after plotting some because it makes me feel more comfortable in what we’re both shooting for. And that I don’t do one liners I’m sorry, there's zero room for development with them.

anyways Tldr patch notes under cut lol

Lotta touches/rewriting of their opening paragraphs to make their current day to day more understandable (hopefully).

General relationships better explained. Their parental issues but still respecting the king and queen. Bit more about Shitsuo, their butler/bodyguard.

Expanded on their differences between how they act among other aristocrats vs people in the city. Hibiko being a perfect little angel in the background to fluff egos, vs learning to speak her true thoughts. Hibiya being able to blend in a lot easier than her, but not knowing how to turn the constant charm off

Removed hobbies, abilities, inabilities but kept the important traits there.

Also updated that smut-bio a bit lol but not enough to really matter. made hibiko more gay bc i didn’t like how i described her and she’s definitely experimented with other princesses before.

Hibiko:

Likes: Being dressed up, romance, and getting attention. Spending time with friends and being complimented/praised in anyway. Interior design. Waltz, ballet, theater. Helping maids cook (though she's bad at it), reading short stories, poetry, cheesy romance books. Gossiping with whoever will listen. Dislikes: Being told "no." Parties, being surrounded by nobility (men) that are above her. Being publicly drunk or embarrassed. Multitasking. Negative personality traits: Stubborn, naive, gullible and whiny. Unable to laugh at herself. Cowardly and uncreative. Positive personality traits: Flirtatious, with a mostly positive outlook on life. Confident in what she does and knows when to keep her mouth shut. Can easily remember facts about things and people.

She has come to the understand that marriage is all there is for her to look forward to, but now that she's older, knows there is more to the world. Sooner, hopefully, rather than later, she is going to marry, and knows now may be the only time she can experience people outside of her own frustrating class. The princess is willing to put herself in situations she knows she shouldn’t so she can get those experiences before it’s too out of reach.

Hibiya:

Likes: Drinking and partying. Reading romance and novels with heavy stories so he can read them multiple times. Casual conversations and playing piano. Literally anything that would make him look good to the public eye. Dislikes: Public displays of affection. Being teased, children, labor outside of office work. Those that swear, are above him in status, smoke, and are drunk if he isn't drinking as well. Negative personality traits: Stubborn, judgmental, selfish. Can be possessive and self critical. Drinks and becomes lustful when upset. Weak, can neither take nor throw a punch. Positive personality traits: Friendly, welcoming, and ambitious. Loves to entertain company and shower them with attention. Organized, confident and focused.

His parents ran away from their titles when the prince was early into his teenager years, Hibiya deciding to stay behind and having to learn fast the responsibilities they left for him. Immediately, the stress on top of the lose, he was thrown into a deep depression for the rest of teenage years as he readjusted to his new lifestyle. Most of what he knew didn’t usually help, and everything else he had to figure out on his own. People were impatient with him, and he was frustrated easily with everything. Waking up even slowly turned into a hassle, knowing it would only be another stressful day.

After seemingly figuring everything out, there is still a lingering fear of something else happening that he simply wouldn’t know how to take care of. Over the years, he’s now mostly able to control his anxiety, but only with the knowledge of losing his parents and the last of his youth to a complete hell.

thanks for the interest, love you too ♥

#update #i might reblog this a couple times #please download latest update before launching

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stxphxn-strange · 4 years

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i’d love it if we made it

a/n: the title for this comes from “love it if we made it” by the 1975 and it’s part 1 of probably 3 in a new college au miniseries. tw for mention of/implied unhealthy parental and romantic relationships, also i feel like i should mention that this fic isn’t anti bruce at all, but he and tony butt heads a lot in this one bc sometimes that happens

summary: how was anyone supposed to navigate being honest with themself and their friends while still dealing with the past and fearing judgement in the present? and why did Valentine’s Day nearing somehow suddenly make Stephen and Anthony’s relationship everyone’s business? so Anthony hated Valentine’s Day, sue him!

Anthony yawned, leaning his head against Stephen’s shoulder. He smiled sleepily as Stephen wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close, completely lost in the love in Stephen’s eyes and the background humming of an elevator’s inner workings. He probably could have fallen asleep then and there. It had been a long week, and Stephen and Anthony both were exhausted. The past few days had been a busy, hazy blur, and the weekend’s beginning would probably be the same.

“One day soon,” Anthony said, rolling his eyes as he yawned again, “We should honestly do nothing and sleep, or try to sleep.”

As much as he agreed, Stephen couldn’t (read: he didn’t try to) stop himself from teasing Anthony about what he’d said. “Who are you and what have you done with my ‘I can function on less than four hours of sleep’ hot mess of a boyfriend?”

Anthony exaggerated a swoon. “Aww, you think I’m hot?”

Bruce rolled his eyes from where he stood a short distance away. “I’m trying to listen to Hope talk about her plans for this Sunday, if you don’t mind keeping the flirting to yourselves.”

“It’s not complicated, we’re just going for dinner and a little walk around town,” Hope said. “I think I’m going to get Chrissy some roses too. What are you and Thor doing?”

“He told me has a surprised planned, and it’s on a need-to-know basis,” Bruce replied. “Which is such a Thor thing to say, even though he knows he can’t keep secrets very well. Do either of you know what he’s up to?”

“Brucie I don’t even know what you’re talking about, and I don’t think I’ve seen Thor all week,” Anthony mumbled. “What’s he doing?”

“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me,” Bruce said. “What are you two doing Sunday?”

“That might be a good day to catch up on sleep,” Stephen suggested, his answer more directed at Anthony.

Anthony nodded appreciatively. “Yes, yes yes yes. That’s the best idea you’ve had in awhile.”

“Fuck you, I have a ton of good ideas!” Stephen retorted.

“Fuck me yourself!” Despite the teasing tone in his words, Anthony was the picture of innocence as he snuggled closer to Stephen.

“Idiot,” Stephen murmured, kissing the top of his head.

The elevator came to a stop, the hallway surprisingly quiet as the doors opened.

“What kind of roses are you going to get?” Bruce asked Hope. “I mean it’s really none of my business, but I’m curious.”

“Probably pink?” Hope replied, the blush on her face matching the uncertainty in her voice. “She won’t admit it, but I know pink is Christine’s favorite color. Am I right about that Stephen?”

“You are, but also you know her birthday is in May right?” Stephen asked. “It’s only February.”

“No shit Sherlock. Sunday is the fourteenth, and I’m talking about Valentine’s Day flowers,” Hope said.

“Sunday is Valentine’s Day?” Anthony asked, still a bit out of it as Stephen opened the suite’s door.

“Did you forget? You, the most extra person in our entire friend group when it comes to any kind of affectionate gestures, forgot that Sunday is Valentine’s Day?” Bruce replied.

Anthony couldn’t measure how shocked his friend was, not when Bruce was as soft-spoken as always, but for some reason his question still kind of stung. “I didn’t forget, it’s been a long week and I just didn’t put two and two together.”

“What’s the problem?” Christine asked, standing up to hug Hope.

“Ant forgot that Sunday is Valentine’s Day,” Bruce said.

“I literally just told you that that’s not what happened,” Anthony muttered, increasingly annoyed with the conversation. “To be honest with you I don’t really like Valentine’s Day, so I haven’t been thinking about it.”

“You don’t— what?! You’re the perfect boyfriend, there’s no way you hate Valentine’s Day.” Now Anthony could tell that Bruce was shocked.

“He is the perfect boyfriend, and neither of us really care for Valentine’s Day,” Stephen said. He could tell that Anthony wanted to say something but was too taken aback. “There’s no relationship between who Anthony is as a partner and the way he feels about a date on a calendar.”

“I’m not disagreeing with you there, I guess I’m just surprised and I worded that incorrectly. I’m sorry Tony,” Bruce said.

Anthony shrugged and sat in the living room where Christine was moments before. “It’s fine. I don’t like the implication that I’m hearing, that just because I hate the holiday means I’m not going to do something for Stephen, but you may not have meant that.”

“I was curious if he’d be upset by that,” Bruce admitted.

“No need to talk about me like I’m not here, and no I wouldn’t be. I’m indifferent about the date and I wouldn’t expect performative affection knowing how Anthony feels about it. There’s no reason for anyone to make themself upset, stressed, or anxious because they do or don’t want to do something for their partner, and that goes beyond February 14th.” Stephen’s tone was firm, clearly indicating that he wanted the conversation to be over. He joined Anthony on the couch, laying down and resting his head on his lap.

“Don’t… no more details,” Anthony whispered.

Stephen nodded immediately. “I’m sorry.”

Anthony yawned again, taking one of Stephen’s hands as Christine and Hope walked back into the living room.

“I left my seat for less than 10 minutes,” Christine muttered.

“Ant and I were going to go to my room, so I guess it’s your lucky day,” Stephen teased.

“It’s just your audacity for me, we’ve been suitemates for two years and you can’t help yourself from stealing my spot whenever I leave the room?” Christine played along. “I’m going to tell Pepper and Wong when they get back.”

“We’re here, what happened?” Pepper was mentally preparing to roll her eyes.

“Stephen and Ant stole my spot in front of the TV again,” Christine pretended to whine.

“Oh, the horror! The humanity!” Wong quipped.

“And also apparently Ant doesn’t like Valentine’s Day, which makes no sense to me,” Bruce added.

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Just let it go Bruce!”

An uncomfortable feeling like a humid room on a not-quite rainy day settled over the room. Bruce and Anthony both looked sheepish, hastily apologizing and letting the conversation blanket the room like a stratus cloud.

++++

They’d been quiet for the better part of an hour, focused intently and not at all on an episode of The Great British Baking Show. Anthony told Stephen in no uncertain terms that he was angry (“my blood is fucking boiling”) when they first closed the door to Stephen’s room, but had said little else since then. He’d retreated, both into the mess of thoughts taking over his mind and the comfort of Stephen’s hug. Stephen honestly didn’t expect Anthony to say anything again until he’d talked himself down or worked himself up.

It was three episodes later when Anthony spoke up.

“I shouldn’t have gotten that angry in front of the others,” he rasped. “They don’t know why I’m this upset at some simple questions, I just seem like a defensive asshole.”

“You’ve every right to be defensive. Even if I take everything I know about why you’re upset and put it aside for a minute, you reacted exactly like anyone who’s ever gotten annoyed at a friend for trying to find humor in your opinions and at your expense,” Stephen replied. “And because I know more of the context for how you’re feeling, I think Bruce just rubbed salt in a healing wound without realizing it.”

“I’ll apologize to him again later. I really feel bad for snapping, I’m no better than Howard and no better than my ex,” Anthony muttered.

“No Anthony that’s not true,” Stephen said firmly. “Neither of them, neither he nor Howard, would have the decency to feel remorseful or apologetic. Neither of them would even think about apologizing or checking up on everyone involved in the argument or situation. You're a good person and much better than you give yourself credit for, so don’t try comparing a golden apple to two that are rotten from the inside out. You’re human and definitely not the first person to be rightfully annoyed or angry with their friends.”

“I owe all of them an explanation,” Anthony mumbled. “About my ex.”

“If you want to tell the group, I support you. But you don’t owe anyone anything, and you don’t have to tell them now,” Stephen said. “You’ll only hurt yourself if you tell them before you’re ready, and you might not be yet.”

“I feel like I should, since it is almost Valentine’s Day and the timing is convenient. It’d be as easy as going to the living room and telling them ‘hey I’ve never really cared about Valentine’s Day but in recent years I’ve grown to hate it because it reminds me of an unhealthy relationship I was in,’ but I can’t say it,” Anthony replied. “I broke up with him three years ago, I should be able to talk about it.”

“If something was painful, then it was painful and you heal at your own pace. There’s no pressure to talk about it, not even to me if you don’t want to. I love you, and I’m here for you no matter what.”

“I love you too. I don’t think I deserve you.”

“Oh hush,” Stephen murmured. “Not only have you got that backwards, you’re just plain wrong.”

“I’m never wrong, thank you very much,” Anthony teased. He shifted enough to place featherlight kisses all over Stephen’s face, smiling when Stephen pulled him in for a long, sweet kiss on the lips. He rested his head on Stephen’s shoulder again when they broke apart, reaching up to play with his hair. “Do you want to do anything for Valentine’s Day though?”

“Besides catching up on sleep?” Stephen asked.

Anthony nodded.

Stephen’s response was immediate and came with the little scoff of indifference. “No. This week has been draining and I want to spend some time with you, that’s all.”

“That’s what I want too, but we can do whatever. I want to make you happy,” Anthony said.

“You do and you will just by being yourself,” Stephen whispered, kissing his hair. “Here’s my idea: we should definitely catch up on sleep, then we can spend the day lounging and eating candy, watching the worst rom coms we can find, and throwing popcorn at my laptop every time a character does or says something cliche. What do you think?”

“Everyday you do or say one thing at least that makes me fall more in love with you, and among other things today it was that idea you just came up with,” Anthony replied. “But if I see a single Lifetime channel movie about people falling in love with their dentist, having a meet-cute at a dentist’s office, or anything even remotely like that, I will not watch it. I don’t want to remember a plot of a movie like that while I’m waiting to get my wisdom teeth pulled next week!”

tags: @stark-strange-love2 @taruyison @kitkatfat15 @katninjagirl97 @spookywizardboy @ironstrange-chaos @chocopiggy @majesticnerdynerd @maya-custodios-dionach @thespacecryptid

#tony stark #stephen strange #ironstrange #my ironstrange college au #i rewrote this so many times lmao #bruce banner #implied christine/hope #implied thorbruce #this has major foreshadowing for pt 2 #tw unhealthy relationships #tw parents #howard stark's a+ parenting #anti howard stark #protective stephen strange #hope van dyne

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malo-mart · 4 years

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i was actually just playing a new file of botw this morning and i realized like,,, why is the great plateau the only place they have environmental puzzles that helped you get around. like the part where you had to cut down a tree to get over a canyon was so fun. nintendo just focused more on the Big World aspect bc ppl hated skyward swords little realms and only added koroks to make it superficially "filled with hidden puzzles" smh

It's depressing how true this is. The plateau was used for demos and directs leading up until release and you can tell because there's so much love there. So many details and thoughts. And then the rest of it is like. See this huge giant cliff you're gonna spend ten minutes climbing? Korok. See this waterfall? Nothing behind it. See these ruins? Korok and wizzrobe. Here's a cool puzzle for you to solve: Korok. I can love and appreciate how long and how groundbreaking botw took and is, but maybe they should've kept working on it for longer. It lost so much wow when I was constantly disappointed to only find koroks. That's a lot of room for disappointment because there were a LOT of koroks. Maybe botw 2 will add in a lot more environmental puzzles to make it up to us <3

#nintendo is like oh shit this random aussie girl is disappointed about botw her opinion is so important lets make it a better game #also thank u for sending this ur vent validates me sm

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lemonietrinket · 5 years

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Loved ||| WayV x Reader

Summary: Everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes, no matter how strong they are. And so when you come home from an awful day in the outside world, you are blessed to have several people come and pick you up again, setting you back on your feet. Genre: Angst, but then lots of Fluff to make up for it!! And humour too bc i think im funny Warning(s): Detailed description of hardcore crying, no mention of reasons why, just left as a very bad day Word Count: 12k how the hell- Theme Song: The Flower (feat. Maximilian Hecker) - Leo; Heart Flutter - W24 AN: Request from @idont-knowabrian, I’m sorry I am depresso and thus have to make it so depresso by extension. I hope it wasn’t too angsty for you, I added lots and lots of fluff after to make up for it!! Aaaaaannd sorry for the real big wait.

EDIT: Check out the updated version here!

~~~

It had taken all of your strength to not cry on the way home on the bus. There were too many people around for you to let the tears fall, but you’d bitten your lip so hard it bled and had held your breath until you were heaving. You tried your best, turning your head into the glass and staring into the darkness outside, praying that no one turned to look back at you or your reflection.

As soon as you got off at your stop, unable to utter a ‘thank you’ to the driver which made you feel even worse (if that were even possible) your defences began to break down.

Tears streamed down your face in the frozen evening air, slipping between your trembling lips and the salt tingling on the tip of your tongue. Your nose ran viciously because of the wind, which also mussed up your hair causing you even more frustration as you tried to hold it out of your face, only for it to cover eyes uncomfortably again.

Your voice seeped into your breath as you tried to remain silent, strained whines at the effort it took to not openly weep as you needed to, whilst you prayed endlessly that no one would pass you by on the street and see the mess you were in.

Fumbling with your keys, just inches from being inside and away from the world, almost sent you over the edge. The key had got caught in one of the keyrings and with your shivering fingers and blurry vision, it seemed the world was kicking you while you were down.

A sob rose in your throat, and you forced it down as best you could, until finally you crashed into the house, bags toppled by the oven. Slamming the backdoor behind you with a strength you didn’t realise you had left, you slipped to the floor and sobbed so hard no noise came from your body.

Your chest constricted upon itself, ribs very nearly bruising your lungs and heart, until you finally caught some air and howled.

You were ashamed of how you must have looked, sprawled on the kitchen floor, weeping hysterically, no doubt with a muddied skirt and torn tights and hands pressed into wet footprints upon the linoleum floor.

If you’d been told to write the worst day you could have, today took that itinerary and then dragged it through hell.

You didn’t have the energy to stand, even if the puddles from outside that your shoes had dragged inside were being soaked up by your shirt, barely tucked in beneath your belt anymore.

You wished that no one would see you in this state. But the world wasn’t particularly on your side.

You just about heard the footsteps outside, before the door opened. You didn’t bother to look up. You didn’t want to know who it was, you just wanted them to go away.

The sharp inhale that pricked at your ears only made you cry harder, the tears dripping from your cheeks and dappling the woollen sleeves over your arms.

The door closed, and the person knelt down beside your head.

The voice was hushed and filled with concern, “Y/N...!”

The man’s palms hovered above you, unsure of what the situation was and what to do about it.

It was Kun. Soft, caring, and extremely worried.

You opened your mouth to speak, but a broken cry was the only sound you could make.

“Y/N, are you...?! Ar you hurt?! Sick?!” he exclaimed, lightly brushing your hair from your face to try and understand what was wrong. “What’s wrong love? P-please, I don’t...”

You shook your head as best you could, and as soon as he felt the wet streams upon your cheeks he seemed to understand.

“Oh, love, oh...” he trailed off, unable to find the words. Seeing you like this hurt him beyond explanation. Slipping off his shoes as quickly as he could and discarding them by the door, he reached his arms under your shoulders. “Come on, love, let’s get you up.”

He scooped you up nearly effortlessly, as you became a rag doll in his hands, limp as you head span, your weeping having constricted most of the air out of you, abandoning you to feel the consequences.

Your feet dragged as the two of you slowly made your way through the house and up the stairs. You were barely putting in any effort, too ebbed with melancholy to do so, and you quickly realised Kun was practically carrying you, doing all the heavily lifting.

It almost made you break into fresh tears at the thought, when Kun murmured in your ear softly, “It’s ok, love, it’s going to be ok.”

It seemed that he was unfazed by your lack of input, continuing to hold you close as he whispered tiny instructions and words of support while helping you stumble into your bedroom.

He set you down on your bed with a gentle sigh, folding some of the clothes you’d discarded on the covers that morning and moving them out of the way. “There you go, we made it upstairs.”

He came back to push the hair from your face, wiping your eyes firmly with his hand as he held it at your cheeks. “Though those clothes need a wash, love, they’re a little bit mucky.”

You felt your eyes prickle up once again, as you choked on an apology. “I... it’s m-my... fault I—the floor, I’m such... such an—”

He shushed you, stroking your hair desperately, instantly kneeling to the floor so he was closer to your head height. “Love, sweetheart, it’s ok! It’s ok, it’s not your fault!”

He cursed at the carelessness of his words.

“The only thing is that we’ll need to get you out of these and into new ones, is what I mean, love,” he explained delicately, “I’ll go and get a new set out for you so you don’t have to do as much, and don’t worry about all the washing and drying, I’ll do all of that for you too.”

His kindness was tugging at your heart, smashing it to pieces in your vulnerable state, only to pull it all back together again. You didn’t feel worthy of his care, but on the other hand all you wanted was him to stay and never leave you.

He stood with a final rub of your temple, enquiring which drawer had your pyjamas in them.

You shivered as you tried to work up the energy to answer him, instead barely raising a finger to the drawer second from the top of the case.

It dropped to the mattress as soon as he nodded, pulling out the warmest set he could find and placing it at your side. “You going to be alright?”

You lifted your hand to try and pick them up, only to discover it was so heavy you couldn’t lift it. You whined in frustration, which led him to immediately kneel on the carpet again.

“What’s wrong, love, do you have the energy?” he asked. “Are you too tired?”

You nodded once, which was all you could really manage. If you’d been more awake you would have questioned where all your energy had gone to specifically, never having been this lethargic before, but—and quite fairly—that would be a question for later.

You didn’t want to cause Kun anymore stress, but once again he understood. “That’s alright, love. I’ll help you then, ok?”

He didn’t move until you explicitly agreed. In this case, it came out as another bow of the head, and another apology. “T... thank you... I’m s-so sorry, Kun...! I just-t...!”

“It’s ok, Angel, you don’t need to apologise. I’ve got you,” he assured, hushing your babbling and helping you to your feet again.

You went limp again at his words, leaning into his shoulder and focusing only on the warmth you found there. He swiftly unzipped your skirt and, after setting you back on the bed, retrieved it from your feet, throwing it surprisingly haphazardly over the back of your desk-chair.

Raising the hem of your shirt, now freed and hanging loose, he gently dipped his fingers under the seam and began to roll them down your hips and legs, lifting you slightly whenever necessary. The ripped tights were discarded just as the skirt was, whilst you pulled your legs up and together, desperately trying to retain heat. Your room had always been cold, though you hadn’t felt the full brunt of it until now.

As the goosebumps rose upon your skin, Kun returned. Instinctively, he placed a hand on one of your thighs, rubbing along to try and restore some heat, as his other hand unfolded the baggy trousers of your pyjamas.

Slipping them over your feet and up to your hips, he moved onto your blouse, undoing several buttons and pulling it over your head. Stroking some strands of hair that had become dishevelled out of your eyes, he shifted to retrieve the pyjama shirt and place it over your hunched torso.

Once your head had appeared from the collar, he sent you a small, sweet smile, guiding your arms into the sleeves and pulling it finally the rest of the way.

All done.

“Feel a little more comfortable?” His hand was at your temple again, fingers tracing tiny circles into the skin there.

You tried to pull your eyes up to meet his gaze, but finding yourself lolling, you settled on another nod.

“Do you want to go downstairs?” he asked.

Lethargically, you managed to reach your hand to his shoulder, attempting to haul yourself up as an affirmation. He rolled with your action, aiding you up again, and back down the stairs.

Eventually you were on the centre of the sofa, all the remotes beside you, and Kun was stood to head to the kitchen. “I’ll make you some food? Ramyun will be good right?” he hesitated. “Or grab you some blankets, anything you need.”

You hummed sadly, trying to draw your lips together to speak.

“Yes, love?” He was so patient.

“I...” you swallowed, hands tiredly lifting away from your body and towards him, as outstretched as you could manage, “w-want a h...hug...”

His features softened even further, if that were even possible, his eyes regarding you carefully as his lips curled into a smile.

Before he could answer—and make no joke, his answer would have been to take a seat beside you and instantly take you into his arms—there was a clatter, as the door opened. Several voices swarmed over one another, littered with giggles and whoops as they bickered in the falling darkness.

Kun’s head turned to the backdoor, and he nodded as he saw the face of one of the members through the doorway. “I think you can get a really big one, now,” he remarked, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

Not quite understanding the situation, you merely pouted, feeling the burn in your heart as your mind spiralled. He’d said no. He didn’t want to hug you. He didn’t like you, really. You were merely a—

“Angel, I can’t leave them in charge of cooking can I?” Kun explained with a chuckle, thumb brushing a single stroke across your cheek. “Please don’t be sad, love, I’ll hug you later I promise.”

“Promise?” you asserted.

“With my whole heart.”

His words threw your own through a loop.

Kun meanwhile called out to the others, “Welcome home! You’re late, but I’ll let it slide if you come here and help me.”

There was a couple of confused ‘eh’s until a few familiar faces came into the room, shrugging of their coats.

You almost broke into a fresh tears as you saw Yukhei’s bright, sunny smile drop from his face when he laid eyes on you.

“Y/N?!” he exclaimed, glancing at Kun for an explanation.

At the sound of his deepset shout, Sicheng leant out from behind the giant puppy’s shoulders to see what Yukhei was so upset about. He too went from quietly happy to extremely concerned at the sight of your reddened cheeks.

You quickly became very embarrassed. You hadn’t been cute crying, exactly, and you figured you looked like a dazed, tear-stained mess.

That was when Ten slipped past the two of them abruptly, running over to you before you could even cry in surprise.

“No no, no...!” he cooed, perching very carefully on the edge of the sofa, body turned completely towards you as he extended his hands to your face. He dabbed at your mottled cheeks rather frantically, the coolness of his fingers making you shiver, as they were chilled the winter, whilst your skin had been made hot by tension and stress.

“No, baby, are you ok? What’s wrong? What happened?” He glanced back at Kun who was heading through into the kitchen. “Kun, is it just my hands or is she running a fever?” Before you could answer he continued, eyes shining, “Are you hurt? Sick? Did someone hurt you?”

“They better not have hurt you!” Yukhei interjected, leaning over the back of the sofa. “If they did then you tell me their names, Y/N,” he said diligently, “I’ll make sure they never even look at you again I swear—!”

Sicheng rolled his eyes, a light scoff drifting from his lips as he patted Yukhei’s shoulder once, before heading round to the chair opposite you. “It’s ok, Ten, she’s not dying.”

He’d said it with a joking lilt an a gentle tone, but Ten’s mouth hung open as he shot him a look. “I know she’s not, but she’s upset and I’m not having that!”

“Neither will I!” Yukhei emphasised, folding his arms proudly.

“Yukhei, you couldn’t hurt anyone even if you tried,” Ten sassed, turning his full attention back to you. “Now, if my girl is not sick, and not physically hurt, then I know exactly what she needs, don’t I?”

As soon as he grinned at you, you couldn’t help but let the corners of your own lips lift. And, much like a chain reaction, as soon as he saw you brighten, even if only slightly, his smile grew into a beam.

“My girl wants hugs, doesn’t she?” he murmured, giddily tapping his finger against the tip of your nose.

You couldn’t avoid emitting a squeak at the contact—his fingers were too cold—but rationale had also left you in some parts, perhaps, as you nodded eagerly, dragging your arms up and throwing them out to welcome him in.

Ten slipped back on the sofa, pulling you into his chest protectively. He was careful to place his hands where they wouldn’t touch your skin, but also where you would know he was there, and so he nestled one into your waist and the other upon the back of your head.

Adjusting your position only slightly to lessen the pressure off the bridge of your nose, you settled you face in the nook of his neck, fingers laced in his shirt, as you took in the scent of his cologne. He must have several varieties but this one was easily your favourite—whatever it was. It was light, but deep and welcoming, with the openness of a spring day but the independence of a lucid dream, which was kind of how you felt held so close to his heart. You could feel it beating against your arm, seeping through your sleeves and sinking into your skin, through to your own heart, which skipped as soon as the thought of it all struck your conscious mind.

You very nearly forgot about the others around you, though as soon as you’d been dipped into the waters of serenity, you’d been pulled out by your own awareness.

Ten was stroking your hair gently, though his touch was shallow to avoid both knots and making you shiver. Kun was instructing Yukhei about something, words just out of reach for you to piece together, but no sooner than he’d finished, the boy had yelled, “group hug!” and had bounded around the sofa. You couldn’t see Sicheng, so had no idea what he was doing, but you heard a chuckle that sounded like his. And a second after you’d questioned the reasoning behind his amusement, you felt a weight crash behind you, as Yukhei joined you two on the couch.

Ten snapped up out of surprise, indicating he perhaps hadn’t seen in coming either, and with his hand leaving your head, you pressed yourself up slightly to try and get a better look at what happened.

It was no use however, because you were knocked back against Ten with a yelp from both of you, as Yukhei practically slammed his weight against your back.

Ten hauled you up as best he could so you weren’t stuck in a folded position but what you had ended up in nonetheless was still not overly comfortable. As you glanced at him you could see his lips wavering, formulating a sentence to most likely scold Yukhei with. But there was no need, as you felt a pair of much longer arms encircle you and pull you more upright, a chin coming to rest surprisingly neatly on your shoulder.

“Hi, Y/N!” Yukhei sang, tapering off into a giggle as he gave you a tiny squeeze.

You laughed bemusedly, relieved to be alive, but also welcoming the warmth from the other side. Yukhei was in fact much warmer, to the point he could be described as an actual radiator, and with him smushed against your back you felt extremely secure.

And, after a few seconds of his eyes evaluating the sight he could see but you could not, it seemed that Ten appeared to accept it eventually too. Even with you practically stolen from his arms, he laughed it off, identifying that he could be perfectly comfortable laying into you rather the other way round.

With roles reversed, Ten slipped a hand up to your collarbone, resting his head just above the other, and seeking the opportunity to wrap one of his legs over yours, which was jutting out over the side of the sofa.

Now you could see the room more clearly, and, with a tired laugh, you waved at Sicheng who was watching the borderline catastrophe with a confused but delighted grin on his features. There was a shade to his eyes though, something that you couldn’t quite place.

Peering over Ten’s head, you could see Kun leaning against the doorway, smiling proudly, as if the whole thing had been his doing. Though thinking back to Yukhei’s sudden but most likely inevitable surprise attack, it maybe had been.

“Hi...!” You waved at him too, leading him to chuckle.

“Hello,” he replied, “you look better already.” And with a brief scrunch of his nose, he was pushing himself off the wall’s edge and heading into the kitchen.

You pressed you chin into the crown of Ten’s head, smiling tightly as quiet settled over the room.

You loved all of them, you honestly did, and you would never do without their bickering and yelling and screeching laughter. But it was relieving to hear peace every once in a while, with the only sound being the sound of steadied breaths—two pairs of which had become more-or-less synonymous with your own.

“You sure you don’t want to join us, Chengie?” It was Yukhei that spoke. You could have bet a million with certainty that it would be him that broke the silence. Man could never stay quiet for long, which was often one of the most endearing parts about him, as it often led him to some extraordinary lengths to find something, anything to say, crafting absolutely wonderful results. A lot of what Yukhei had to say ended up becoming in-jokes for all eight of you in the house, and at least a quarter of them were from situations like these.

Unfortunately, this one didn’t spark much interest.

Sicheng shook is head once, voice neither amused nor melancholic, answering, “No. But thank you.”

“Oh, ok!” Yukhei’s response was bright as usual. “More space for us!” He punctuated his words with another, tighter squeeze, which made you cry out in mildly strained laughter.

“Yukhei!”

“Dear lord...” Ten sighed, rolling his body-weight to allow his voice to carry into the kitchen. “Kun! When are the kids getting back? Yukhei’s getting boisterous again!”

You poked Ten’s side, making him jump. He flicked his head away from your neck to look you in the eye, immediately flipping into a pout complete with puppy eyes. “Hey...! What was that for...!”

“Play nice Ten,” you asserted gently, reaching out to pull him back down. He’d left your torso open to the cold with his retreat and you missed him within seconds. Luckily he wasn’t in a snarky mood, or had accurately read the situation and had worked out it wouldn’t be a good idea to get mischievous and tease you, and so he came straight back down. Though his grip was a little firmer once he’d reestablished it, with one now warmer hand finding its place upon the bare skin below the hem of your shirt, shielding it from the chill of the room while simultaneously making your heart beat just that little bit quicker.

The kids, as Ten had dubbed them, arrived not long after, just as the delicious scent of Kun’s famous cooking began to fill the whole room to the brim. They stepped into a delightfully warm house, their faces reddened from the cold outside, and immediately were stripping themselves free of their coats, as the temperature difference made them feel too warm to cope.

Ten and Yukhei had finished their tussle over you, leaving you to rest in peace between the two of them. Sicheng had taken out his phone a while ago, ocassionally showing you funny memes and pictures he found. You didn’t really understand some of them, and he had to explain them, but you enjoyed it nonetheless, even if that same shadow tinted his eyes again as he did it.

Xiaojun regarded the sight of the three of you piled on the sofa with curiosity, to say the least, brows furrowing as he let the two behind him pass. Yangyang barely scraped a glance at you, until he came back and saw it properly, smirking. “What is this?”

“Y/N was feeling sad, so we had to come and cheer her up!” Yukhei explained, knocking his head into yours like a puppy.

“By... piling on the sofa?”

“What’s wrong Yangyang?” Ten snickered, before cooing, “Do you feel left out that I’m not babying you too?”

Yangyang narrowed his eyes defiantly at the elder, who merely stuck his tongue out.

“Yangyang, you can join us if you want,” you interrupted cleanly, the wobble in your voice long gone.

“Can I?!” Hendery called from behind the two stood in the walkway, slipping through to poke his head around Xiaojun where you could see him. His lips were curved into a tiny little smile, eyes wide and clear and glimmering in hope for a ‘yes’.

“Of course!” you replied, hand leaving Ten’s back and beckoning both Yangyang and Hendery over.

“I don’t think there’s any room,” Xiaojun remarked, exhaling amusedly, “you might have to take it in turns.”

At this, you felt both pairs of hands’ grips tighten, as if in reflex.

“But!” Yukhei stuttered in defence. “But I’m—”

Ten whined, “No, I’m comfy. You’ll have to drag me off yourself.”

Sicheng looked up from his phone. “Not sure that’s a wise idea, Ten, you’re the lightest one here.”

As Yangyang and Hendery glanced at one another, grins affirming before snapping back to begin stepping over to the smaller link in the chain, Kun declared from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready! Come get it! And someone can come and get Y/N’s for her—no complaining about that either, she’s had a tough day.”

But no one complained. In fact, it became more of a rush to get in the kitchen first, to collect their food because they were starving or because they wanted to be the one to grab your serving, you couldn’t tell.

Yukhei was swayed by food, which you had anticipated, and with a final, almost crushing squeeze, he slipped out from behind you, leaving you to adjust yourself to not fall over while supporting Ten upon your front.

This was because Ten was not affected as severely by the thought of dinner, and instead remained upon you, pressing himself against you as best he could.

“Can’t we stay here and eat dinner?” he mumbled into your shirt.

“I don’t think Kun would ever allow that.” You giggled. “Not after last time.”

Ten sighed, before shouting back, “Kun! Can Y/N eat her food on the sofa?!”

“No!” The man’s response was immediate. “Not after last time!”

“See,” you snorted, “told you.”

Ten rolled his eyes, sitting up reluctantly, then stretching his arms and back. “Fine. Come on, let’s go get dinner.”

Dinner was a ruckus, as usual. You cram eight people around a table and it will always be noisy, due to the sheer number of people. But then you make half of those people crackheads and the others happy to allow them to be crackheads Then you’ve got a table of chaos.

With the conversation flitting every few seconds, words bouncing from one side of the room to the other to a rhythm of laughter, many would probably have arranged to sit in their rooms to dine, but you would never dream of doing such a thing.

Hearing the banter, weekly in-jokes and teasing was necessary, as it always lifted your spirits. As long as you weren’t upset at the time they picked on you.

Luckily the previous cuddling had worked, and you were back to feeling ok, your problems not seeming so impossible anymore.

However, ‘ok’ was not good enough for the others, and you knew they wouldn’t leave you at just that. Besides, you had a promise to keep to the two youngest.

As soon as you spotted the natural lull in conversation, you jumped in, “Do you guys want to watch a film tonight?”

Your suggestion was met with a flourish of agreement, only that two faces also fell. One tried to hide it somewhat valiantly, no doubt to protect you from feeling bad. The other didn’t possess the finesse for this as such, and more-or-less openly sulked at the dining table. You looked to the two of them. “Ten? Yukhei?”

“SuperM,” Ten remarked, voice monotonous, “meeting on tour dates.”

You let out a small ‘ah’ in understanding. You attempted to look on the brighter side. “There’s always next week...!”

Yukhei nodded sadly, while Ten huffed earning him a side-eye from Kun.

“In my defence,” he began, “they’ve worked out all the dates that don’t clash for us. It’s 127 they’re having trouble with, and the managers there can’t seem to do basic maths, because they’ve confirmed two lots of dates that don’t actually work. It must be driving Taeyong mad over in Korea.”

“Why do you need to be there, then?” Yangyang asked.

“We don’t,” Yukhei emphasised.

Ten sighed. “No I think we do. Even if we’ve outlined our schedules a hundred times, we still need to be in the room while they set the dates, for legal reasons. It’s just that guy is driving me up the wall. He never lets us talk on these meetings, and I’m sick of subtly dropping hints to his boss about it.” He stood, offering to take the others’ empty bowls and plates. “Guess tonight won’t be very peaceful, but it’ll be worse if we don’t leave soon.” As he leant over the table to collect your bowl, he whispered, “I’ll be here pretty much all tomorrow though. You?”

You nodded, trying to still the beating of your heart picked up in tempo following the wink he sent you in response.

Yukhei collected the remaining utensils in one hand, giving everyone individually a big wave with the other.

“What are you going to do?” Xiaojun enquired. “About the ‘guy’, I mean?”

Ten shrugged. “Guess if he tries anything this time, he’ll face the pure wrath of this bad bitch.”

“Ten!” you cried in faux shock, a gasp quilting the air. “What have we said about swearing in front of the child!”

Laughter erupted as everyone synchronously looked at Yangyang, who was sending you an exaggerated scowling pout. “For the last time, I am not a child!”

“Oh yes that’s right, you’re not a child, Yangyang,” Kun interjected plainly, leading the table to hush as each person accepted his words as an instruction to quieten. Except everyone was wrong. Kun glanced at you with a suprisingly sly smile, and then at Ten, before looking Yangyang dead in the eye, and said, “You’re baby.”

There was a chorus of boisterous, teasing ‘OHHH!’s as Yangyang accepted his fate as ‘burned’.

You bid the two of them farewell, hearing them slip out of the backdoor, but you barely caught Kun as he seemed to follow them. You very nearly leapt into the kitchen, hearing a car door slam, eyes searching for the leader.

"Kun?”

The man jumped just outside, halting his motion to shut the door as you poked your head into sight. “Oh, Y/N. Is everything ok?”

You nodded, humming, though pulling your shirt further up to your chin to try and retain some heat in combat with the cold outside air. “Where are you going?”

“Oh, giving them a lift, so they don’t have to walk, since it’s cold out,” he sheepishly apologised, “I should have mentioned it, sorry. You can start the film without me, I don’t mind.”

“Oh, ok,” you mumbled. You had been about to say you’d make sure everyone waited for him, as you were aware the drive wouldn’t be long, but his words had stopped you in your tracks.

“I’ll see you in a bit, Y/N. I promise I won’t be long.”

You tried to lift your arms in time to request that hug he owed you, but the door had closed before he likely even saw you in the darkness of the kitchen.

There was a slosh of water that made your ears prick up, leading you to turn towards the sink. You’d barely noticed Xiaojun there, doing the washing up (as he’d been elected to by Kun as he left the table). Though it was no surprise, since he’d been practically silent the whole time. And he was doing it in the dark.

“You alright, Y/N?” he enquired, adding more hot water to the bowl.

“I could ask the same about you?” you glanced around the room, looking for the lightswitch. “Has the bulb gone again?”

“No, the light’s fine.”

“Oh, well...” You made your way over to the switch.

“Don’t turn it on,” he announced, tipping his head over his shoulder. The lights from the next room crystalised in his eyes, azure-gold and tracing a diamond upon his cheek. It illuminated the curve of his lips, as he spoke again, quieter this time, “Come here.”

You did what he asked, brushing his shoulder with yours as you came to his side. You tried to meet his gaze, looking up to his face and drawing across his features. You got distracted by the shine of his silver hair, tracing down his skin and curling round the shell of his ear so neatly. Plush lips parted as he spoke and you raised your eyes to meet his, only to have him turn away at the last second. You were left with no choice but to follow where he was looking.

“Look, out there,” he whispered, gently placing a plate at the bottom of the bowl.

You peered into the garden, dimly lit by the light from the living room dancing beyond you, next door’s garden light and nothing more—the sky starless and as dark and thick as ink. You couldn’t see anything, and it disheartened you to have to explain it to Xiaojun, who was clearly much more excited than you were.

“Jun? I can’t see anything,” you murmured, but he hushed you suddenly, leaving you to slam your lips shut, heart pinched.

After a few seconds he spoke again, voice barely above a whisper, “We have to be really quiet. And no sudden movements. She’ll appear very soon, I know she will.”

You frowned, glancing through the dark window, confronted by the hazy grass of the garden, and then your own musty reflection as your eyes switched focus. You couldn’t see much of Xiaojun in the glass, the shadow engulfing much of his mirrored-self. However, you could see one half of his face, shaded as if through clouds, his crown crudely lit like a halo from the light behind.

A sigh very nearly left your lips as you stole another glance at his real face, his brow furrowing while his eyes narrowed into the darkness outside, teeth ever-so-slightly teasing his bottom lip as he peacefully waited. It wasn’t fair how ethereal he was sometimes.

Suddenly he perked up, eyes widening, and leaning into you as he carefully pointed with a soap-sud painted finger into the black. “Look! There!”

You leant forward on the edge of the counter, eyes desperately scouring the garden until you spotted what he was waiting for.

A small bundle, tapered with jagged edges upon its top, snuffling through the shadowy green.

A tiny hedgehog, on the search for food.

As she came closer, you could just about make out the twitching of a nose, while she made a somewhat beeline for the fence on the left hand side of the garden. There you could see a weathered blue pet-bowl, filled with some food of sorts.

“There she is,” Xiaojun sighed, whispering a laugh sheepishly. “I was beginning to worry there for a bit, I’ll be honest.”

A wide smile rose to your face, overtaken by the purity of an animal that small shuffling through the cold to find food which had been placed in the back garden just for her.

“Did you...?”

“Yeah, the dog food was me,” he replied. “She only comes when it’s quiet here, which isn’t often but it does happen after dinner. As the others get quiet, retreating upstairs or sitting on their phones for a bit. That’s why I offer to do the work here, so I can check up on her.”

You couldn’t glance away from the hedgehog, especially when she finally reached the bowl and began to tuck in. Though it was in the shade and it was very hard to see anything besides the bowl by that point, made to stand out against the night by the brightness of its sides.

“She’ll eat it all no doubt, she didn’t come yesterday. Unless she has somewhere else and is just running rings around me,” he chuckled, picking up the plate.

“Why didn’t she come yesterday?” you asked, wrenching your eyes away to look at Xiaojun again.

The corners of his eyes rose as he wrinkled his nose briefly. “Yukhei’s euphoria last night?”

You stood confused for a second, trying to retrace your memory, until you finally struck gold. “Oh yea! We got a message from Jungwoo! I think it was everyone’s euphoria to be honest,” you sighed, “I’d been worried sick about him. No matter how many times anyone assured me he was ok, I knew I wouldn’t settle until I heard it from him himself.”

“It’s alright, I understand that. And I’m pretty sure the others do too.” As your eyes fell, remembering the anxiety you had about his condition, Xiaojun’s finally settled back on you. “You’re extremely kind Y/N, you almost care too much,” he said, “I know Jungwoo can’t wait to see you again, too.”

You finally met his gaze, letting a small smile rise to your lips as you did so. He was just so beautiful, you couldn’t actually look away even if by some bizarre curse you wanted to.

“Thank you, Junnie.”

“I mean it though, Y/N,” he insisted softly, “I worry sometimes you care too much about others, and though we appreciate it very much, I don’t...” His voice faltered, as if he’d spoken too much. “We don’t want you to hurt yourself in the process, and forget to care for yourself. We all love looking after you, but we also don’t want you to be hurt at all, if we can help it. So if something hurts you, let us know immediately, so we can support you... yeah?”

You nodded, swallowing as you felt your throat clench. Blinking quickly, you looked back into the garden, you spotted the hedgehog making her way back to the hedgerow.

At that moment, a voice rose from the living room. “Y/N! What film do you want to watch?”

Somewhat grateful for the distraction, you felt the urge to cry dissipate as you took another glance at Xiaojun. He hadn’t looked away from you this time, it seemed, but you didn’t focus upon that for your own sanity. “I’d better go,” you said, “thank you for showing me the hedgehog. She’s really cute, I’m glad you feed her.”

“No problem, I’ll let you do it tomorrow, if you have time and would like to?”

“That sounds great!” You sent him a grin, covering any sadness you had felt a few moments before. You lay your hand on his shoulder for a second before you passed, as a small farewell, making our way to the living room to go help Yangyang.

As you reached the archway, you turned round to ask one more thing. “Oh, Xiaojun?”

“Yes?” He finished washing a plate and placed it on the draining board, peering over his shoulder at you once again.

“Does she have a name? The hedgehog?”

In the shadows of the kitchen, you thought you saw him falter, in the silence, heard a stutter in his answer. “Actually, no, I didn’t think to do that. Maybe you could come up with one?”

You reasoned with the suggestion before nodding. “I’ll see what I can come up with. See you in a bit!”

After you left the room, however, he let out a sigh of relief. He was glad you’d fallen for that excuse, especially since it was far from the truth. The first thing he did, once he realised the hedgehog was a regular, was give her name. And since she was adorable, with her little nose and love for food, he decided to name her after the first adorable thing he thought of.

He hadn’t foreseen the issue that would occur if he showed her to the person of which he’d secretly named the hedgehog after.

As you spun round the door-frame, hands clapped against your cheeks, desperately willing them to cool down and lose their pinkish hue, Hendery spun round the corner and collided into you.

His sudden appearance made you jump, causing you to haphazardly step backwards and very nearly trip over a blanket draped half on the sofa and half on the floor.

Luckily Hendery’s reactions were faster than your falling, and with hands clasped at your shoulders he pulled you back into your centre of gravity. Holding you still there, watching you wobble until coming to rest, he exhaled in relief.

His face had been a picture, lips pursed into an ‘o’ of moderate horror as he’d almost knocked you to the ground, and then spread into a wide smile as he giggled sheepishly. His eyes were clear as glass, dark and glinting and rueful.

“Sorry Y/N!” he said, mischief lacing his words.

You scoffed, shaken and avoiding his clear stare. “Yeah, you will be!”

He laughed at your response, taking to your side. “We need to choose a film, what one do you want to watch?”

“I don’t...” you shrugged, “really know.” You were glad that you didn’t need to look at him now that he was at your side. You could feel his stare on you however, and it made you want to shiver.

He nodded, interlinking his arm with yours. “Shall we go have a look, my lady?”

Before you could let any words slip through your lips in bemused amusement, he pulled himself closer to you and then led you through to the corridor with the shelves stacked with movies.

Yangyang was already there, squinting up at the top row as you reached the rack, fingers running across each box like a small child reading their first book.

Hendery extended his free arm towards the shelving, bowing his head, “Your moving pictures, my lady.”

You snorted, taking in the sight of amass of films. They’d been ordered alphabetically by title, and you remember the day starkly that you’d sat down with Yukhei to organise them.

He wouldn’t have been your first choice to help order things, since his attention span normally lasted around that of a cocker spaniel with a new toy, but he’d been the only one in the house at the time, and he was the only one tall enough to reach the very top shelf regardless (you still didn’t understand why that top shelf had been installed and even being used, because if Yukhei wasn’t around—which did occur often due to his new schedules—then it was a real safety hazard to get a film down from there, seeing that no one else in the group managed to grow anywhere near 6″).

On this occasion though, he’d been uncharacteristically focused, listening to your instructions, and only making jokes about how short everyone else was a couple of times! He’d been a very big help, and it also proved useful in the sense that you weren’t the only one with a better idea of where all the movies were. Even if they were organised well, the two of you could still find them faster than the others usually could, simply due to the fact you could remember where you’d placed them on the shelves in the first place.

Kun had been extremely happy with the end result too, and Ten still didn’t believe you’d managed to get Yukhei to sit down and do it with you.

You did admonish the system you’d used now though. Perhaps taking the extra time to organise them into genres would have been better. After all, you rarely knew a specific movie you wanted to watch.

Scouring over the titles, you eventually straightened to join Yangyang in peering up at the very top row—the row of box-sets.

“What’re you looking at?” you asked Yangyang quizzically.

“Did we watch the final part of The Lord of the Rings?” he answered.

You and Hendery both nodded.

“Oh, well there goes that suggestion then,” he shifted down from tiptoe and came to lean against the table beside the shelving, sending you a sweet smile. “Y/N, what type of movie would you like?”

Eased, you smiled at him, glancing down at the films at the lower rungs. “I’m not sure, really. Nothing too heavy, and nothing that will make me cry.”

He hummed. “So, a comedy then?”

Hendery’s eyes went wide, a look of genuine fear playing on his features. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Our senses of humour in this house, when it comes to films can...” he paused, silk voice tentative, “...vary, a lot.”

You nodded in agreement. “Remember what happened over that Robin Hood film?” You shook your head very firmly. “Bad times, my dudes.”

Yangyang cocked is head to one side in thought, frowning at seemingly nothing. “Fair enough...” Suddenly, h perked up, showing a grin you knew well. “I’ve had an idea. What if we watch a really bad movie, one that’s so bad, it’s actually kind of good?”

You clicked your fingers, before shooting him finger-guns, “Now that is a good idea!”

The three of you turned towards the mountain of films. Hendery lent upon your shoulder, and once again you were convinced he wasn’t perhaps focused on the films.

“Ok... bad... films...” Yangyang murmured, pulling out a blue box to read its description on the back.

Meanwhile, you glanced over at Hendery, who was a lot closer than you had previously thought. You sent him a smile, pressing him back with a single finger before enquiring, “Do you have any ideas, Hendery?”

He smushed his lips together, as he usually did when he was thinking, something of which that always made your heart simper, and let his eyes wonder away from you and up to the penultimate top shelf.

“’Azure Shadow’?” he said, reaching up and grabbing the box. “I heard it was pretty bad—hey The CP Times gave it 4 stars!”

“My god,” you snickered, leaning over so your head almost brushed his, and peered at the back of the box, “what were they on?”

“No idea but maybe it’s not bad enough,” Yangyang remarked, earning a nod from the two of you, and leading Hendery to put it back on the shelf.

“What about ‘The Man of Blade’,” Yangyang measured, scoffing as he retrieved it, “this one doesn’t even show its ratings, it must be awful!”

You skipped over to him, placing your hand on his shoulder and leaning your head against it to see the description.

“’A man makes a wish to a genie’,” you began, the corners of your mouth twitching already as you attempted to keep your tone serious, “‘to become the most powerful man to ever live so he could face God in a one-to-one’—”

“I’m sorry what?” Hendery merely laughed.

You tried to hold it together. “—a-and restore not only his pride but his... his...”

“Oh no, what?”

Laughter bubbled in your throat as you forced the final sentence from your lips. “His valiant steed’s honour—yo, what the actual—?!”

Yangyang cackled as he began hastily opening the box. “It’s decided! We’re watching ‘The Man of Blade’! And we can all suffer together!”

Hendery wiped his eyes to free them from tears of laughter. “I’m sorry, but why on earth is that even here?! Who bought it?”

“It must be a present?” you insisted. “Surely! No one in this house would buy this in their right mind—”

“I bought it.”

Three heads simultaneously turned in the direction of the living room. There, standing in the archway, was Sicheng.

There was a moment of silence as you all stared at him, mouths agape and words faltering, until you exclaimed, “Chengie, no!”

“Look,” he projected, before the other two could add to the confusion, “it was supposed to be dumb gift for Ten, something that I could hide his actual present behind, and so I decided to hide it plain sight until his birthday.”

“Ohhh.”

“But, does that mean we can’t use it then?” Hendery questioned.

“Oh, yeah, damn,” Yangyang said, closing the box, “it’s ok Sicheng, we’ll put it back.”

“Actually,” you began, eyes flickering from each man, and finally resting on the box, “Ten isn’t here, so as long as no one tells…”

“We can still watch it!” Hendery finished, clapping his hands and motioning for the box. “Let’s start it up, I want to see the menu page!”

As the two fought over who got to put the disc in the player, you turned your attention to Sicheng.

His eyes, dark caramel and hidden from the light, were down-turned and avoiding your gaze. They seemed to graze across your cheeks instead, flickering up to your own only occasionally. You offered him a smile, small and soft, and then walked over to him. “Hey, thanks for the film! It sounds perfect for tonight.”

“It’s no problem, I’m curious to watch it too,” he grinned back, before easing you out of the way of the two bundles of energy that bounded through into the living room, “I really hope it’s as bad as it sounds.”

“Oh it’s got to be!” you cried, feeling warmth settle back into your system, slowly, but surely, as you laughed. “Come on, Chengie, help me get some snacks?”

“Of course.” He stepped backwards, letting you past to lead the way.

Back in the kitchen, you began to scavenge for all the food you could find, layering Sicheng’s arms with bags upon bags of snacks. You weren’t exactly paying attention to the number you’d piled, however, until you swung all the cupboards closed and aimed to place a final packet on top, only to find that you’d formed a tiny mountain, and Sicheng’s face was practically completely hidden.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry Chengie, I didn’t notice how much…”

“It’s alright,” he answered brightly, peeking carefully round the precarious pile, “I got it!”

He stepped forward careful to request the final snack be crowned upon the summit above his eyeline, and with caution, you obliged, balancing it on top as best you could.

“Alright! Now all we have to do is get you into the living room without dropping them—are you sure you don’t want me to take half? It’s not hard at all for me to do so…!”

He turned so he could see you. “It’s ok, you’re already doing too much by organising this. I can carry a pile of snacks don’t worry! Just, warn me if I get too close to a chair.”

You nodded, peering over his shoulder to see his way. “I can do that. You ready?”

He hummed in affirmation, and the two of you began your slow, careful trundle into the living room.

With snacks arranged on the coffee table, you slumped on the sofa, taking care to mind your feet as you went—you didn’t want to knock all your hard work on the carpet, as then you would have to vacuum it all up and unless you had someone to make the pain more bearable, it wasn’t fun in the slightest.

You watched as Hendery emerged victorious and scampered over to the TV, fiddling with the dvd player. Yangyang, pouting from the sidelines, perked up once he realised that he now had a crucial advantage.

He bounded over to you, barely choosing a side and instead practically flung himself onto the sofa too. He threw his arms open to encase you as he went, and once his back hit the cushions, he pulled you into him.

You shrieked in surprise and glee, shuffling yourself round so you could rest your head more comfortably on his chest.

“There,” he murmured proudly, “comfy?”

“Very.” Your voice was muffled against his hoodie.

Hendery glanced back over his shoulder at the sight, and hurried himself. Sicheng meanwhile took a seat where he had been previously, spinning the chair around so he would be able to see the screen.

“Hey,” you called softly to him, causing him to swivel a bit further round to see you, “you sure you don’t want to come sit over here? It’s comfier than that desk chair.”

“But it is a spinny ch—” You hushed Yangyang before he could finish.

Sicheng smiled, the dim in his eyes growing as he shook his head. “No, it’s ok, I’m good here.”

“You sure?”

Your response was a nod, and the very gradual spin as he pushed himself back to face the TV subtly.

You tried not to take it personally, but you couldn’t hide the falter in your smile.

Yangyang couldn’t quite see it at his angle, but Hendery did, pouting at you as he came over.

“Y/N?”

“I’m ok, don’t worry!” you declared. “Just tired, is all.” Your response had been too fast, and you knew both Yangyang and Hendery had noticed—Hendery had quickly settled down beside you, inclining into your sloped body as he held your hand tightly, whilst Yangyang had shifted his weight to bring you just a little bit closer.

You did wonder if it was slightly out of something else, but you didn’t have long to consider that thought, with the film menu loading up and sending you all into a bout of horrified laughter.

“What even is that?!” Yangyang yelled above you.

“That is an actual, colourised depiction of hell,” you countered, lips twisted in terror as you sat up instinctively. It was as if the atrocity had immediately set off fight-or-flight responses of every single person in the room.

Hendery snapped his head over to you. “In the shape of a horse?!”

“It’s never going to leave my head,” Sicheng murmured. “There it is. Emblazoned into the insides of my skull. Set me free from this torment—”

“What’s going on?” Xiaojun had come through from the kitchen, drying his hands on a tea towel and striding through into the living room as if he’d been summoned.

“That!” Everyone simultaneously pointed at the TV, the single shot menu screen of an abominable CGI horse crowding the entire screen.

“What’s wr—mother of sweet jesus—”

“I know right!” Yangyang exclaimed. “It’s horrifying, I hate it!”

“It’s actually cursed,” Xiaojun stated, unable to draw his eyes away from the savagery of art he’d been presented with. “Obscene!”

Winwin’s voice was still low, but you could just about hear it over the whoops and cries of the others; “My sleep paralysis demon.”

“Is this what we’re watching?” Xiaojun asked, deep eyes wide and begging for the answer to be any cognate of ‘no’.

“Yep.” You grinned.

“This crime to humanity?”

“One hundred percent.”

Xiaojun stared at the screen, eyes alight with the tacky flames of the anathema displayed before him. Eventually he snapped out of his cursed gaze and headed back into the kitchen. “Dear lord—don’t start without me!”

Eventually, as the laughter died down, you settled back into Yangyang’s embrace, ushering Hendery to come closer too so you could have him near too. He looked over to you, feeling the tug on his hand, and with only a momentary pause to check if you were sure, he flopped down onto your stomach, exhaling happily with an arm stretched.

“You feel happier now, right Y/N?” Yangyang suddenly asked, voice low, and just below a whisper.

You were surprised, but nodded. “Yeah, I’m feeling much better than I did before. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” He cleared his throat, shifting his balance to support the extra wait Hendery brought to the table. “You’re certain we don’t need to enact special measures?”

You frowned, tilting your head up to come to look at his jaw, as he quickly looked back up to somewhere else in the room that seemingly wasn’t the TV for very rational reasons. You bemusedly asked about his supposed ‘special measures’, but won little response. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, before he glanced down at you, eyes flickering across each paradigm of your face with his lips pressed plush as he thought. He parted them eventually, ebbing with air and possible words, until you felt the rise of his chest as he inhaled and readied himself to speak.

Only then did Xiaojun enter the room and take the final spot at the end of the sofa, patting Hendery’s legs to get them to move.

“Ok, I’m back, we can start now!” he announced.

The ball of conversation was knocked from its ledge and rolled in a different direction to that you’d hoped.

“Who has the remotes?” Hendery piped up, feet replaced, but this time on top of Xiaojun’s legs. The elder of the two picked them off by flicking his soles.

“I do,” Sicheng replied, already frowning at the buttons. “Can someone get the lights?”

“Sure.” Yangyang stretched up behind him, hand awkwardly sliding up the wall as he sought for the switch. Eventually his fingers struck gold, and the room snapped dark.

And then the menu finally disappeared as the horror of a film began.

The movie was utter trash. But it lived up to expectations and it was absolutely hilarious. You’d spent the first hour shrieking with laughter, and then proceeded to tear each scene and every piece of dialogue apart as a five-piece. The entire film was cursed.

Hendery was slapping criticism on the plot left, right and centre to the pooint it made you wonder why he was here at all and not a movie critic. Meanwhile, Xiaojun just snorted at everything he said. The two had come to an unspoken truce, after squabbling over where Hendery could put his feet. They were now situated on Xiaojun’s thighs, and swinging every now and again.

You felt your heart burn at how adorable it was, though also suffered the pain of the jerks that Hendery made everyday he had the sole of his feet poked or tickled, which Xiaojun seemed to enjoy doing too much.

You stroked Hendery’s hair gently, lightly pressing his fringe out of his eyes where his head rested on your stomach, whilst you peered around to Sicheng to check if he was alright, having not heard a peep from him in half an hour or so.

What you found was that he seemed to be too engrossed in the movie. A grin was plastered on his face as the lights of the terrible CGI glowed in his irises and made him look like an evil mastermind in a fantasy movie of the same calibre. You hushed a chuckle behind your hand, as you leant back to turn your attention to Yangyang.

He’d been the forerunner of the jokes, cackling at every small thing and turning it into pure comedy gold for the rest of the people in the room, which you were very grateful for. The movie would have been brain-drivel without him.

He’d re-positioned himself slightly so you were higher up on his body, head much closer to be of an equal height to his. This way you could press your temple against his cheek, if you wanted. However, it was him that had his head nuzzled against you, his cheek resting in your hair.

He eventually quietened down as he grew more drowsy, instead taking in the scent of your hair, which only lulled him into more peace. With you in his arms he felt complete, in a way. As if he had a duty of sorts and when you were there he was completing it. But he wasn’t sure what this meant to him, and he didn’t want to think about it too much. A part of him deep down knew that it would cause some pain, somewhere along the line. And so he didn’t spare the thoughts a chance.

However, he couldn’t still the beating of his heart whenever you moved against him, whenever you looked to him and smiled.

As the credits rolled, there were several sighs of relief, but otherwise it was complete utter silence as the room tried to comprehend what you’d just witnessed.

You glanced over at everyone to see if they were just as confused as you were. Seeing you were in firm company in your bemusement, you announced, “The Oscars are clearly rigged for this not to win.”

Yangyang snorted. “Of course!”

“Best film ever! Y/N couldn’t make a better one even if she tried.”

Xiaojun flicked Hendery’s toe for that one.

“Oh of course, honey.” You leant over slightly, arms gently squeezing the boy in your lap, giving him a squeeze. “And you couldn’t make a worse one.”

Hendery seemed to take it as more of a compliment as he grinned, nose scrunching as he headbutted you softly. You tickled his sides briefly, seeking joy in the squeal that it earnt you, and let Xiaojun take the fall as he got kicked in the arm. You sent him an apologetic pout, not that you deep down meant it wholeheartedly.

“Ow!”

“Karma for all the headbutts I got in the stomach!” you asserted and Xiaojun shrugged.

“Yeah, that’s fair—”

It was Sicheng that interrupted. “Oh.” His voice was disappointed, and where his melancholy suddenly procured from confused you. He’d been so sunny during the movie.

You looked over to him. “Chengie?”

“The time,” he said, holding up his phone.

It was nearly midnight.

“How long was the movie?” Yangyang exclaimed.

Sicheng answered, “Longer than you’d expect.”

“Well over two hours?” Xiaojun suggested. “But that time included the credits.”

“Haven’t you guys got to be up like, stupid-early tomorrow?” you asked, voice timid, fearing the ‘yes’ that you knew would follow.

A hiss of irritation ricocheted across the room.

Xiaojun confirmed it for you. “Yeah, we do.”

“I don’t want to go...” Yangyang whined.

“I’m sorry but you gotta,” you encouraged sadly, “you need sleep.”

“And so do you,” Hendery added, kicking his legs off the sofa and stretching as he stood.

It was your day off tomorrow, though you couldn’t deny you were pretty tired. “I guess so.”

“Yeah, come on, otherwise Kun will be mad at us,” Xiaojun chuckled, “not sending you to bed at a responsible time, you know.”

You snickered, slowly shifting yourself out of Yangyang’s arms. His hands seemed resistant to the idea, catching on your shirt as you moved away.

Eventually though, he was freed from his constraints and ordered by you to head to his room. “Come on, Yangyang. You gotta go.”

He pouted at you, before reluctantly nodding his head. “Yeah, ok, I’m going.”

Hendery and Xiaojun followed, bidding you goodnight as they passed. You remained in the living room a bit after they went, opting to stretch out on the sofa instead of getting up.

“You need to head up too.” Sicheng’s voice was light and airy, like the shadows had engulfed it. You barely heard him.

“I know,” you assured just as quietly, “I’m just... taking my time.”

You could just about trace the lines of his smile in the dim light after he turned the TV off. His presence was faint, but what you could feel was warm and gentle.

He whispered something that this time you didn’t catch.

“Sicheng?”

“Don’t worry.” He sighed, getting to his feet. You heard the crinkling of wrappers and the clatter of bowls as he began to tidy up.

“Here, I’ll help,” you began.

But as you sat up, you felt an hand press firmly against your shoulder. “There’s no need, it’s ok.”

You frowned into the dark. He wasn’t looking at you, which was why his voice sounded distant. You could make out his silhouette, broad and proportioned as if he was drawn. He was like an artists unknown creation, stood in the background of their studio, overlooked by many but appreciated much more than any by the few that knew him.

You worked up the courage to enquire about the occurrences earlier. “Why wouldn’t you come over and sit with us? Like, during the movie or before.” Feeling intrusive, you hurriedly added: “I mean, I don’t mind of course, just... you know?”

That caused him to look at you, but he remained silent for the longest time. You were about to change the subject when he finally replied.

“I didn’t want to get in your way,” he cleared his throat, scooping up an unopened snack bag under an arm, “besides, you were already quite busy with the others, so... I didn’t want to overwhelm you with anything more.”

Your features softened at his words, a pang in your heart. “I appreciate that, Chengie. But please remember that you won’t overwhelm me or get in my way. I like hanging out with you just as much as the others.”

You could make out the smile on his face, small and sweet, before he ushered himself away towards the kitchen. “You need to head to bed, Y/N, you need some sleep.”

He was right, but you were convinced you weren’t going to leave until you got one thing.

You headed to the entrance into the kitchen and waited for Sicheng to come back. Upon his return, he almost bumped into you, but caught himself just in time. Your eyes met in the darkness, lit by the streetlamp from outside the window far behind you. His glimmered with the golden haze, as he wordlessly questioned why you were there.

“I know, I’m heading up I promise,” you answered for him. “But... can I have a hug first? Please?”

Lips pressed into a small ‘o’, he looked shocked by your request, before melting into another soft smile. “Of course.”

His hands brushed along the curves of your shoulders, as if to appear to find their way, and eventually travel down to wrap around you. The position wasn’t exactly the most conventional, as you found your arms bunched at his chest, but you made the most of it regardless.

He held you delicately, but firmly against him. It was reassuring, despite the lack of time you spent there pressed into his warmth, as you felt your breath slow, and your eyes close.

You didn’t want to let go, but Sicheng was more sensible than you, and drew himself away gradually.

“Come on,” he murmured, placing a thumb against your temple and massaging the skin there lightly in encouragement.

His palm barely touched your jaw, the contact was so brief it felt like the breath of a ghost, but it sent your heart-rate into a rapid drumbeat. You imagined he could hear it, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he merely continued, upping the tempo of his caress, and sending your thoughts into a spiral of sorts. You couldn’t work out what they were saying, but it was giddy to say the least. Eventually though, conscious reconnected to subconscious and allowed you to function again. You nodded, reluctantly leaving his touch that sparked your heart rate to spike, and began the long journey to your room, leaving Sicheng to finish up downstairs alone.

Something ebbed in your heart about it, but you didn’t know what it was, nor how to express it.

Eventually reaching your room, you left the door ajar as you clambered into bed, feeling a strange loss of peace.

You decided to watch Youtube for a while to calm yourself down a bit after... whatever had happened with Sicheng, and consequently ended up staying up long enough for the others to return.

That’s when it hit you, the reason why you’d been unable to settle. Or at least one of them.

Kun had promised to return quickly, but he had been gone all night. You wanted to ask about it, but it was late, and you were comfortable in your bed. Luckily, after a few minutes, once Ten and Yukhei had retired to their rooms, your prayers were answered as Kun knocked on your door, face peaking through the gap.

You stared up at him, eyes big and expectant with your lips pursed. He had explaining to do after all.

And he was aware of this fact, as the guilt was written over his face.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m sorry,” he began, “can I come in?”

You pretended to think about it for a few moments, even though you both knew the answer. He waited though, and it was only when you gave him a ‘yes’ did he come inside.

He sidled over to your bed, eyes sweeping the shapes formed by your bed covers, to eventually perch on the side without accidentally sitting on your feet beneath the blankets.

“I’m sorry, I promised I would come back but the other two swore it wouldn’t be long, and it would be more rational to stay,” he explained, “but then it took longer than they thought, but I couldn’t risk coming home only to then head out again and... I don’t know why I listened to Yukhei about it to be honest, it’s not an overly rational thing to do.”

“Did Ten tell you to stay?”

He nodded.

“Well, I’ll let you off then,” you let the scowl fall from your face and giggled instead, “we know how persuasive he can be.”

Kun paused, eyes flitting to yours. “So you’re not mad?”

You scoffed. “Kun, I wasn’t even that mad to begin with, I promise! I can’t be mad at you for long anyhow. You’re just too—”

You’d let your mouth talk without your brain, and it suddenly occurred to you what you were saying. As your voice faltered, you weren’t sure what was supposed to follow. Kind? Sweet? Cute? Handsome?

Kun was waiting for you to finish, and unfortunately, you panicked a bit.

“Kun.”

He frowned bemusedly. “I’m too ‘Kun’?”

You nodded awkwardly, while you interrogated your own intelligence in your head. “...To be mad at for long, yes.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Well, I mean, I prefer that to you being mad at me.” He exhaled, clearly relieved. “Did you enjoy the film?”

“Oh it was awful!” you exclaimed. As you saw his eyes widen again, you laughed. “We enjoyed it so much.”

He was clearly very confused, and his lips wavered as he didn’t know how to respond.

You took some delight in his confusion, you couldn’t deny. “Well,” you propositioned coyly, “you’d understand if you’d been there.”

“I’m sorry!” he reiterated, eyes wide and searching yours.

“Ok, I’m sorry, I’ll stop now,” you laughed, though felt a little bit guilty and sighed, sending him a small sweet smile. Although it occurred to you that he still owed you. “But… there would be something that would make it all up to me—”

To your surprise, Kun interrupted you, already one step ahead, “I know. Here.” He shuffled along the bed so he was much closer to your body, arms held out for you.

You didn’t hesitate, much to his gratitude, and levered yourself up and straight into his embrace. His hands held your back firmly, gently pulling you even closer as he nestled his nose into your neck, mimicking your own positioning. Tender and tranquil, Kun seeped solace. While his fingers drew art upon your back, his head tipped into yours, his voice a deep murmur, “I’ve been waiting hours to do this.”

Your heart skipped a beat, you couldn’t even help it, though you shook it off. You’d been all over the place that day, emotionally, so of course you were going to be reacting all fuzzily over kindness. Well, that’s what you told yourself. Besides, he was just stating facts.

“Me too,” you finally answered, barely able to work up the effort to speak anymore. The tiredness swept over you suddenly, but you didn’t fight it. Your body was crying for sleep, and your mind had finally agreed that it was time to give into that small, tired voice.

You pulled yourself away gradually, hands coming to rest on his shoulders as you peered up at him. He held you at arms length, studying your face as you did his. You’d never noticed how rouge his lips were naturally tinted, how they curved into a smile as they opened to speak. Or how soft his cheeks were, as a long, slender dimple appeared as he did.

“You really need to sleep,” he said, “your eyes are constantly closing.”

You acknowledged his remarks with a lethargic nod, before shifting your weight once again to allow yourself to lie down under your covers.

Kun stood to allow you more space, letting you curl up to conserve warmth.

“You got everything you need?” Voice as light as silk, he leant over to catch your eyes behind the bundled blanket.

“Yeah.”

He nodded, straightening up and heading for the lamp on your bedside table. As his fingers flipped the switch, his brain stuttered. He’d wanted to do something for a very long time, and this was the perfect opportunity to do it. You’d already been desperate for a hug from him and him specifically. But it was if something was stopping him.

The lights went out, and he felt his feet moving by themselves towards leaving the room.

“Goodnight, Kun,” you called after him, watching his retreating silhouette in the light from the landing.

As he reached the door he held it open, head peering into the darkness to catch a final glimpse of your face in the dim light for the day. You already had your eyes closed, hair around you like a halo, temple exposed and waiting. You looked so adorable wrapped up and surrounded in warmth.

“Goodnight, love.”

And with that he left the room, leaving the door ajar, rubbing his own lips to make up for the contact he missed as his cowardice took over once again.

There would be another time. He prayed that there would be, and that it was him alone who got the opportunity.

But he couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

~~~

AN: longest thing ive written and published wtf. It’s also unedited as of yet and with a piece this big it’s bound to have mistakes so I am very sorry for them and will get round to editing eventually i still need to update my masterlist oop

Also, all film names were randomly generated on a title generator. If they are actually the names of films then they weren’t intended to be.

Masterlist

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bella-spil · 4 years

Text

2 Romeos & 1 Juliet- Part 4

Part 4- Its Buckys turn to take you on a date. Fem reader

Warnings- implied smut(not really) kissing/making out, cursing.

Word Count: 6.7k( I tried to add a lot more detail in this one so bear with me)

Taglist: @kmuir1 @angrythingstarlight @wednesday-add-em @sea040561 (lmk if you wanna join. The more the merrier!)

A/N: This would have been done sooner, but the internet was down for the past three days. I got some inspiration from GOTG vol.2( a tiny bit) and I added a lot more detail than normal. And there might be a meme or two that I took a line from(its the “so I started blasting” one”). Also the pic of the outfit is from me, amd Im sry for the terrible quality, I have a shitty camera. Also the link for the 40s slang I used is https://rkcowles.wordpress.com/1940-slang-glossary/ , if you are in the mood to learn some. I hope you enjoy, bc this one might be my fav of this series.

You had a pretty good week after your date with Loki. Whenever you saw the God of Mischief, you both acted like his attempted kiss never happened. You acted like normal friends. You read the note Billie gave you, alone so Loki didn't see, and she actually said she thought Loki was cute. Not hot but cute. You laughed at what she wrote, and you swore you would never show Loki.

As the week went on, Bucky was planning his date out. He had a place, one that you would both enjoy and have a lot of fun at. He had everything prepared for you, but he was still nervous.

What if it doesn't work? What if she really doesn't like me? What if I do something wrong? He thought as the week carried on. But he never showed the fear to you. He was acting all confident, bragging about how he would win you over with his charm, like how he did with the ladies in his time. You told him that you weren't like all those other girls, and he agreed. He said that he would have a challenge with you, but he knew he would win. He always won. He also flirted with you constantly, which drove Loki up the walls. You enjoyed this confident side of the Winter Soldier, you knew you were gonna see it more often.

You also tried prying the location of the date out of Bucky. But he was a Super Soldier, so that didn't work out. You gave up in about 5 minutes.

Then the day came. You and Bucky were both anxious. You had no clue where you were going, and Bucky hasn't been on a date in a while.

“Doll, we are leaving at 4 ok?” he let you know at lunch.

“Got it. Where are we going?” you asked for the 100th time. Bucky rolled his eyes and didn't answer. “Fine. What should I wear?”

“Hmm..” Bucky thought. “Wear a T-shirt and shorts, like you did with Loki. But we are going to be walking around a lot, so don't wear something uncomfortable.”

“Ok,” you said, walking to your room to get prepared. Bucky thought he did a good job, not revealing too much about the date. He liked keeping you guessing, it amused him more often than not.

~~~

As you were in your room, you paced back and forth from your closet to your bed. You were stressed with not knowing anything about tonight. But you were stressing out with the new feelings to your long time friend. You didn't know if you were feeling them because of the upcoming date, or if you were making it up. But you didn't have this on your date with Loki. You had no clue, so you tried to ignore the feelings. But they weren't letting up, getting you more and more nervous. You tried to take deep breaths, and it worked. So you focused your time on getting ready.

“What to wear, what to wear,” you muttered to yourself as you scanned your closet like a robot. After a few minutes of rummaging around through heaps and heaps of clothes, you found a cute and comfortable outfit.

You found a cute crop top that only exposed a small amount of your stomach. It was low cut, but not too revealing. It was a black t-shirt, and it was your favorite shirt because it looked really good on you, at least you thought. You always felt a bit more confident whenever you wore it, and you knew you might need it for tonight.

You also found a pair of super soft cotton shorts. They were a dark, camo-like green. They didn't have camo print, just dark green and a white lining. You adored the shorts because they were the softest thing you owned, besides another sweatshirt you owned. They were mid-waisted and were a little revealing on your ass. But you loved the way the shorts made you feel, like any man would fall for you by just looking at you.

You found a pair of black Adidas sneakers, which would be good for walking. You didn't put on any jewelry, since you weren't a big fan of it. You only wore it at the concert because it was a concert, you wanted to look decent. You left your hair down again, letting the natural curls and waves have a mind of their own. After a couple flips of your hair, you had the look you wanted.

Then you moved on to your makeup. Since you would be walking a lot, you thought you might sweat a bit, so you didn't put too much on. Only a bit of foundation to hide some blemishes on your skin, a tiny amount of blush and mascara. You didn't like wearing makeup either, since your time in the mountains saw no need for it. You didn't understand how people took hours and hours for makeup, and at the end of the night, they would have to wipe it off and do it all again the next day.

When you finished, you took one final look in the mirror and you thought you looked amazing. Your confidence soared through the roof as you checked yourself out.

“Doll, its time,” Bucky knocked at your door. “You ready?”

You got scared and flinched in front of the mirror. You were not expecting time to fly that fast.

“Yeah Bucky, i'll be down in a minute.” you answered, not trying to show that he scared you.

“Ok, I'll wait by the front door,” Bucky said. You heard his footsteps fade as he left, and you took a sigh of relief. You grabbed a small, black backpack, just to store your phone and some money since you had no clue what to expect. You checked yourself out in the mirror one last time as you put on some lip gloss. Then you put the lip gloss away and headed out of your room.

~~~

Bucky stood anxiously by the door. He wore a pair of shorts and a black Brooklyn logo shirt. The shirt was a little snug on him, so it made his biceps pop out a little more. He didn't bother covering his metal arm. He wasn't used to having it out in the open, especially in public. But he always was comfortable with his arm around you, so he thought it would be the same with you anywhere. He was not going to let strangers ruin his night with you. His hair was down and he wore a pair of black Nike’s. He had on his signature dog tags and in his pockets, he had his phone, which he barely knew how to use, and some money for the date. But, like a true gentleman, he had a bouquet of red roses in his hands. He never showed up to a date without flowers. He knew his manners and class, and if he didnt, he knew his momma would reprimand him for not being a gentleman.

“What is taking her so long?” Bucky said out loud.

“Don't get your hopes up, Wiener Soldier,” Loki said, smugly. He was hoping to mess with Bucky before it was too late.

“Shut it, you Lord of the Rings looking ass,” Bucky said, not giving two shits for Loki's mind games. Loki walked away, hoping that would do something to Bucky.

Then, you appeared from the hallway. Bucky had to do a double take because, Jesus, you looked fine. You looked so confident and proud of yourself that Bucky was in awe. He loved a woman that walked with a purpose. You looked perfect in his eyes. He smiled as you came closer to him. His heart fluttered as he realized he would be with you. The person his heart had fallen for since he first saw you.

You saw Bucky standing there, the roses in hand. Bucky's eyes looked brighter than ever, full of excitement and adventure. He looked nice in his outfit. You never saw him out in public with his metal arm showing, so it was a shock for you when it was on full display. You also saw his muscles poking out of the shirt, and you tried your hardest not to stare.

“You look like a dreamboat, toots,” Bucky gushed, using a ton of 40s slang. You blushed, since you knew what they meant. Anyone would know what those terms meant, but two years ago, Bucky taught all the slang he knew.

“So do you,” you replied, smiling.

“These are for you, doll,” Bucky said as he handed the flowers to you.

“Thanks Bucky, you didn't have too,” you said.

“Well if I didn't, I know my momma would bust my chops,” Bucky said, chuckling. You laughed with him. You loved when his Brooklyn accent came through.

“Cmon lets get going,” Bucky said, leading you out the door.

~~~

“Ok Bucky, where are we going?” you asked again in the car.

“You'll find out when we get there,” Bucky replied.

“Ok, when will we get there?” you asked, hoping for an answer this time.

“Bout 30 minutes,” Bucky answered to your relief. “Ok I wanna quiz you on something.”

“Ooo car games, I love those,” you said, gaining interest.

“Lets see how much 40s slang you remember.” Bucky said, looking at you.

“Thats easy, I’ll quiz ya too,” you said.

“You got a lotta moxie. Ladies first,” Bucky said, placing his hand on your thigh. This was the first time he had ever done this. You were a little shocked at first and froze for a moment, but you weren't asking him to move it. His warm hand felt so comforting on you. You just wanted to let it sit there forever. So you put your hand on top of his.

Bucky took his eyes off the road for a minute, just to look at you and your hand on his. If he said he wasn't over the moon right now, he would be lying. He felt like he was on cloud-9.

“Ok what does ‘beef’ mean?” you asked.

“It means a disagreement. That was easy, doll,” Bucky said.

“Go, Buck,” you sighed.

“Fine. What does ‘brown nose’ mean?” Bucky asked, his blue eyes shining into yours. You took a second to think, but you didn't remember.

“I don't know, bucky.” you sighed in shame.

“Haha! One for Bucky. Zip for Y/N.” Bucky celebrated.

“Don't celebrate too early, punk,” you teased. “What does it mean?”

“It means ass kisser,” Bucky explained, earning a “ohh” outta you.

“Name five things that mean ‘attractive’” you said.

“Are you doing this to mess with me and trick me into saying it about you?” Bucky questioned, getting suspicious.

“Yeah, now answer,” you answered, unashamed. Bucky rolled his eyes, getting a laugh out of you.

“Ok, first is ‘honey’. ‘Bombshell’ is one, so is ‘babe’. Then, ‘20-20’ and… dreamboat.” Bucky answered.

“Good job. Your turn.” you smiled.

“Since you did it to me, I'll do it to you.” Bucky mocked.

“Fine. ‘Casanova’, ‘doll’ is one, ‘drooly’, ‘glamour puss’, ‘glad lad’ and ‘heaven sent’.” you responded. Bucky took his hands off the wheel and applauded you, which you laughed.

“Good job, doll,” Bucky grinned. “Now I have two questions for you.”

“Which are?” you asked.

“First is what's your favorite slang?” Bucky said.

“I think ‘toots’” you answered.

“Second, use 5 terms to describe me.” Bucky said. He wanted to know what you thought about him, but he didnt wanna ask you straight up. He wanted to make you at ease and have fun with you before asking.

“Ok then do the same for me,” you teased.

“Fine, go,” Bucky agreed.

“‘Fuddy-duddy’, ‘hot shot’, ‘heaven sent’, ‘camp happy’ and ‘blow joe’.” you answer.

“Really? Fuddy-duddy?” Bucky sighed.

“What? It's true! You are old fashioned,” you mocked.

“Whatever,” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Now you have to do it for me,” you fluttered your eyes to mess with him, earning a glare from him.

“‘Dreamboat’ obviously, ‘camp happy’, ‘a crack up’, ‘date bait’ and ‘divine,” Bucky said, looking at you with his hand still on your thigh.

“Aww you're so sweet,” you blushed.

“It's the truth, sugar,” Bucky smiled.

You looked out the window for a second and saw something in the distance. It was a ferris wheel.

“Bucky are we going to a carnival?” you asked.

“Yep,” he smiled. You squealed and thanked Bucky till you got to the fair. There were a ton of people there already, and you knew more would show up later tonight.

“What time are we staying till?” you asked. It was already 5:40pm and you and Bucky were walking up to the ticket booth.

“Till it closes, or whenever you get tired,” Bucky said, holding your hand.

“Till it closes. I don't think I'll get tired from all the sugar we will be eating.” you admitted. You both laughed and then you were up at the ticket counter. Bucky bought bracelets for the both of you. They allow you to stay for as long as you want and to go on unlimited rides for unlimited times. They also cost a lot of money. You tried to buy your own bracelet, but Bucky insisted on paying.

“I’m paying for dinner,” you insisted.

“No I am,” Bucky said.

“I am,” you bickered.

You bickered all the way to the entrance, where you and Bucky stopped. You stood marveling all the flashing lights and rides. You already had a list in your head for what to do. You loved how everyone here was happy and enjoying themselves. You couldn't wait for night to come, because then all the lights would be flashing even brighter. And less families would be there, which meant shorter lines.

“What do you wanna do first?” Bucky asked, looking at the lights as well.

“Lets eat, if you want,” you said.

“No, I'm always hungry too,” Bucky said.

“Great, because Loki took forever to eat.”

Bucky laughed as he took your hand. You both ran into the fair like children as you searched for food. You found a pizza stand and took two slices. Bucky found a hot dog stand and took two ‘Coney Island Chili Dogs.’ When you saw what he ordered, your mouth watered a little bit. Bucky took note very quickly.

“You know what doll? You can take one of mine and I'll take one of yours.” Bucky proposed.

“That's smart,” you agreed. You ate the pizza first and then the chili dog. The chili dog took the longest, since you didn't want to ruin your outfit. You had to lean over the platter the whole time to prevent stains.

Bucky took a different approach. Since the cooks put a lot of chili on the hotdog, Bucky found a different use for the access chili. He took the extra and put it on top of his pizza, which you looked at him in disgust.

“What?” he asked when he saw you staring at him, food stuffed in his mouth.

“Nothing,” you lied. He gave you a smirk, almost like he knew what he did, and continued eating. He finished quickly, a little faster than you. Almost like it was a competition, Bucky gave a little victory “woohoo” and you sighed, finishing your food.

“Congrats Buck, you ate faster than me,” you said sarcastically.

“Do I get a medal?” Bucky asked, playfully. You chuckled as he took your hand, leading you further into the fair.

“Whats up first, sugar?” he asked.

“Why don't we play some games? I don't wanna throw up on you in the Gravation,” you admitted.

“Sure, anything you want,” Bucky said. “Which do you wanna play first?”

“Let's do the balloon and dart game,” you decided.

“This way, doll.” Bucky said, taking your arm and leading you to the famous game. When you got there, not many people were there. Only two others were in front of you, and they were fairly quick. After they finished playing, the carnie saw you and got your attention.

“Hey there! Wanna play?” he asked.

“How much?” Bucky asked, getting to the point.

“If you want three darts, 5 bucks, if you want five darts, 8 bucks,” the carnie answered. Bucky got some money out of his pocket and paid $16 dollars in total. The carnie handed you both 5 darts and then he moved out of the way.

“Ready, set, go!” the carnie shouted. Then you and Bucky looked at each other, eyes full of determination. Bucky threw his darts very quickly, and he only missed one. Meanwhile, you took your time and got all five.

“Congratulations, you two!” the carnie cheered. “What do each of ya want?” You and Bucky looked around at all of the options.

“Which can we pick?” Bucky asked.

“The miss next to ya can pick anything she wants,” the carnie explained. “You can pick anything, just not something on the top row.” The one Bucky was eyeing was on the top row, and he sulked in disappointment. He saw a Spiderman inflate that he thought was really funny. You found a small, tye-dye teddy bear that caught your eye. You thought it was adorable, and you really wanted it.

“Bucky, if I get you the Spiderman, can you get me that bear?” you asked, with puppy dog eyes.

“Sure, toots,” Bucky smiled at you. The carnie heard you discussing and got the prizes ready for you. As you both said thank you, the carnie eyed you suspiciously, trying to figure out if you were dating or not.

“Any other games?” Bucky asked as you walked away from the game. You were about to answer when Bucky completely turned his attention to the mechanical bull a couple feet away.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I was the best at that in ‘38,” Bucky said.

“You can do it, it's fine,” you smiled. “But I'm paying.”

“No you're not,” Bucky said, before he sprinted off, trying to get there first so you wouldn't pay. You ran after him, but Bucky and his stupid super soldier serum beat you there. He got the money out of his pocket and handed it to another carnie.

“Good luck,” you said as you took the Spiderman out of his arms. He smiled back at you and headed up to the bull. The carnie counted him down and then the bull started moving. At first it was easy, Bucky had his right arm on the handle to keep him steady. But after a minute or so, the carnie made it a lot harder. Twisting and turning at high speeds, Bucky switched his right hand to the metal one, for a firmer grip. He almost fell off after one really fast turn, but his left arm still held on to the handle. His right arm was holding the side of the bull and he was able to readjust himself in time for the next spin. After five minutes, he was still on the bull. Bucky didn't even realise the crowd that was starting to form around you. Everyone marveled as Bucky wouldn't dare to fall off the bull. People around you cheered him on. Even the carnie was shocked and tried his hardest to get Bucky to fall. But it wasn't going to happen.

After another 15 minutes, the carnie announced that Bucky had beaten the record for the mechanical bull, but Bucky still wasn't going to get off. People cheered him on, but not as loud as you. Your cheers were fuel for Bucky and the more you cheered, the more he wanted to stay on. But, he didn't want to keep you waiting the whole night, so after 10 more minutes, he fell off the bull. As he walked out of the pit, people cheered for him, earning a smile out of him.

“Congrats sir, that's the best bull riding I've ever seen,” the carnie said. “Here's your prize of $200 bucks cash. Everyone give it up for.. What's your name?”

“Bucky,” Bucky answered.

“Bucky everyone!” the carnie cheered. Everyone joined in with cheers and applause. You smiled at him, full of pride and happiness. Bucky smiled and planted a kiss on your head, which you blushed at.

“How long was he on for?” you asked.

“Your boyfriend here was on for 32 minutes and 48 seconds.” the carnie said.

“Wow,” you said. “You are the best at that.”

“I know,” Bucky said. As you walked away, other guys had gone up to Bucky, giving him a celebratory high five or pat on the back. Even some girls had gone up and tried to flirt with him. But Bucky said that he was with you, obviously, but that didn’t stop the girls from at least trying to get with him.

“Now we have enough money to eat anything and play as many games as we want,” Bucky said.

“If you didn't win that, we might have had to use some of the money I bought,” you said.

“Impossible,” Bucky chuckled. “Now I think we can go on some rides.”

The night flew by, and it was already 10:30. Bucky had taken you on the Ferris Wheel, Cliff Hanger, Frisbee, Fun House, Wipeout, Gravation, Tornado and the Swings. You tried to get him to go on the Zipper, but he swore he would never get on that ‘deathtrap’ as he called it. As you went on the rides, you were able to fit your teddy bear into your bag, but the Spiderman was causing some trouble. You had to leave it outside on some rides, which you thought it might get stolen, but that luckily didn't happen. Then he took you on the Swings, your favorite ride of all. And then, he took you on the Bumper cars, his favorite ride. You both laughed and had fun the whole night, but he still had some other things he wanted to do.

“Doll, before we go, there's two more things I wanna do before the night ends,” Bucky said.

“And what might that be?” you asked.

“I wanna play the High Striker game an-” Bucky started.

“Do you wanna play that game to show how strong you are?” you mocked.

“Maybe,” he admitted and you laughed.

“I wanna do the shooting game before it's too late.” you said. “I wanna see if I can shoot better than you.”

“We already know the answer to that question,” Bucky smirked and you hit him playfully in the arm. “But we can do that after we have some dessert.”

“You read my mind.” you chuckled. “Lets eat.”

Bucky took you to some of the concession stands around the fair, which you both indulged in so much sugar that it would give you diabetes. Bucky bought both of you a plate of zeppolis, your favorite carnival food, and you bought a bag of fried oreos. You also bought a thing of cotton candy. After you thought no more eating, Bucky came back with a bowl of gelato. All of the hunger in you resurfaced and you and him ate it, licking your lips once you finished.

“That was the best dessert ever,” Bucky said.

“Agreed, now we gotta play some games, it's already 11,” you said, trying to get Bucky to move. He grudgingly got up and followed you to the High Striker game. Bucky pointed at the bell at the top, as if saying ‘watch out’.

“Wanna test your strength?” the carnie running the game asked.

“How much?” Bucky brushed off, getting the money from his pockets.

“For one swing, 3 bucks. For three swings, 5 bucks.” the carnie said.

“Three swings,” Bucky said, handing the carnie the 5 dollars. The carnie handed him a sledgehammer and backed away. The carnie told you to move back so Bucky could practice his swing, and you did. Bucky practiced his swing about three times before he was ready.

He swung his arms back and hit the pad. He got really close to the bell, just a few inches off. Bucky swore under his breath as he got ready for his next swing. The next one was stronger, but not close enough again. He grunted as he saw it didn't hit the bell.

“Cmon Bucky! You got this!” you cheered, hoping to boost his confidence. When he heard you, you were like gasoline to him, giving him the fuel to hit it the hardest. He swung down for the final time with a loud grunt. The little knob had so much force behind it that it hit the bell. Not only that, but it flew off the railing that was keeping it in place. You and the carnie looked at each other in shock. Bucky took a deep breath, and looked at you sheepishly.

“What the hell?” the carnie said. “Well, um, pick your prize.”

Bucky looked around at the options and found one that you were looking at. You were looking at a stuffed llama as tall as a counter. The llama, in your eyes, was even cuter than the bear. It had pink and blue fur in little patches. It also had little specks of yellow fur. It had a little smile plastered on its face and it just looked too adorable to be real.

“The llama please,” Bucky asked. You smiled at him and gave him a big hug, your arms wrapping around his muscular torso.

“Thanks, Bucky,” you said as your head was pressed against his chest.

“Welcome, sugar,” Bucky responded as he grabbed the llama from the carnie. You snatched the stuffed animal from his hands and held the toy in your arms, cuddling at. As the two of you walked away, you heard the carnie in the background telling the people next in line “sorry the things broken.” Then you heard an angry man yelling at the carnie, saying “That's Bullshit!” and “You just want to go home and not do your job!”

You and Bucky laughed as you headed to the last game of the night, then you would be going on Bucky's ride of choice. You ran through the crowd of teens and made your way to the shooting game. This carnie looked cheerful, more happy than the others that you have seen.

“Hey there! How's your night going for you two?” the carnie asked.

“Good, how's your going?” you asked in a cheery mood, still clinging to the stuffed llama.

“So far, no winners tonight, but maybe you and your boyfriend can change that,” the carnie smirked.

“Oh, we aren't,” you started.

“It's ok, you don't have to admit it,” the carnie asked. “By the way, the game costs 20 dollars per player.”

“What?” Bucky asked. “That's ridiculous for a damn shooting game!”

“Sorry sir, I don't make the rules. It's priced so high because you get a lot of pellets to shoot and if you win, you get a huge prize.” the carnie said.

“It's ok, I'll pay for mine and his,” you said, getting the money out of your bag.

“No I am,” Bucky said, racing to his pockets before you got your money. But you beat him and he sighed in surrender, muttering how his momma would kill him if she were alive. You handed the money to the carnie and the carnie set up the guns, ammo and targets.

“You can go first, Buck,” you said, nudging him forward. “I wanna see what exactly I'm going against.”

“You're gonna regret that,” Bucky snickered as he prepped the gun, leveling it at his shoulders. There wasn't a scope on the gun, but there was an eyeliner for him to aim. The target was a big, red star, which you laughed at in your head since Bucky had a star just like it on his arm.

Then, he started shooting at the target. The objective is to get the star completely off the target. It has to fall to the floor, off the paper completely. Bucky shot at the edges of the star trying to get the corners free. Then he circled around the star, aiming at the star with such precision that you got worried you would lose against him, and you hated to lose. Then, after a few minutes, Bucky ran out of ammo. The carnie pulled the lever, bringing the target closer for you and Bucky to see.

“You were really close,” the carnie sighed. Bucky took the target and saw that he had gotten completely around the star. But there was a problem: one of the edges was still dangling off the paper.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Bucky grunted, running his right arm through his hair. “This has to be a winner.”

“Sorry, sir. But the star has to be completely off the paper,” the carnie said. Bucky sighed and muttered something about how this was rigged.

“Your turn, doll,” Bucky said, giving the carnie a glare.

You handed the carnie your money and he set you up exactly like Bucky. Once the carnie was finished, he gave you a thumbs up and you started blasting. You followed Bucky's example, starting at the corners of the star and working your way around. You were careful to not pull the trigger too hard or else too many bullets would come out. You had something in your head that said, “you have to beat Bucky, you have to win.” Bucky was a master assassin and for him to lose helped boost your confidence as you continued to aim. The star was starting to fall off, hanging off by a tiny edge of the paper. But, luckily, you didn't have the same problem as Bucky, you had more pellets left. You used those to your advantage and blasted the red star off the paper. It fell to the ground, completely covered in bullet holes.

The carnie stood there, completely in awe at how well you had done, and you still had bullets inside the gun after you finished. Bucky was frozen like a statue. His hands were glued to his hair, his eyes were coming out of his head and his mouth was to the floor. The carnie gave you your target, and whispered to you “I knew you could beat him,” causing you to giggle as you scanned the booth for a prize. Your eyes settled on a Captain America head. Not a real one, a stuffed one. You thought it was funny and grabbed it from the carnies hand. As you and Bucky left the carnie said a congrats to you and hung your target on the wall with the other lucky winners.

As you walked, not knowing where you would be going, you got scared because Bucky hasn't said a word yet.

“Bucky you ok?”

“Yeah doll, yeah,” he said. “I just can't believe I lost.”

“Oh cmon dont be a sore loser,” you nudged him, making him laugh.

“Also I can't believe I fell in love with a girl like you, and I didnt even know she could hold a gun like that,” he blushed, brushing some hair out of his face. He gripped your hand and led you to the ride he had been waiting for since the beginning of the night.

“Wait, you love me?” you asked.

“Why do you think you're here with me, doll? Why do you think me and Loki are fighting for you?” Bucky asked.

“Well… um,” you froze. You had no clue about how you felt about Bucky yet. One part of you loved him, the way he loved you. But something else was fighting that feeling, seeing him only as a close friend. Bucky sensed your nerves and held you closer to him.

“It's ok, you don't have to respond.” Bucky said, easing your mind. “I'm gonna make you say those words before Loki gets the chance.”

You laughed at him. “I'd like to see ya try,” you sassed.

“Toots, just wait,” he smirked.

“Wait what ride are we going on?”

“Well we are right in front of it, so it's a dead give away,” he said. Without realizing it, you were right in front of the ride. It was a dimmed ride, more like a boat ride. The walls were covered in pink and red hearts and the boats were white swans. The arches leading into the ride were hearts and three words were illuminated in front of your eyes. “Tunnel of Love.”

“Oh my god,” you said.

“Cmon, it's not like anything is going to happen,” Bucky said, leading you to the swan. The carnie controlling the ride took the stuffed toys and your bag from you to leave on the side. She gave Bucky a thumbs up, letting him know nothing would happen to your belongings, but maybe for something else.

You squirmed as you sat next to him, and the carnie buckled you into the ride. A million things were running through your mind. You didn't know if you should tell Bucky before the ride starts to not try anything. You didn't know if you would let anything happen. You didn't know if, even, anything would happen. You assumed something would happen because, look who you're sitting next to. Bucky was a ladies man, and he probably took other gals on the ride in the past.

“Doll, I assure you. I won’t do anything unless you allow me to,” Bucky said, putting his right arm behind your back, for you to use as a pillow. You settled into his body and then the doors swung open, leading you inside the ride.

At first, there was nothing that would suggest anything bad would happen. There was a little romantic garden, the one that would show up in a romantic movie. There were little hedges and statues of Cupid with his love bow and arrows. There were tons of roses and smooth jazz was playing in the background.

“This is music,” Bucky smiled. The music playing tonight was mostly tons of pop music, which he hated and thought was annoying as hell. So this for him was soothing. It soothed you too, but not as much as it did for Bucky.

Then there was another set of doors, and it led you into the next part of the ride. This part was very dark. There wasn't a lot of light, and it didn't look like anything was inside. You got scared and found yourself leaning into Bucky more. He didn't mind and eased into your touch.

Suddenly, something, maybe a bat or something, you couldn't tell, popped out of nowhere. Then a hissing sound and a scream played in the background. You screamed and your head was buried on Bucky's chest.

“Hey, hey, it's ok. It's not real, it's fake. It's going to be ok,” Bucky soothed you. He took the arm you were resting on and cradled you in it as you were in fear on his chest. His right hand was rubbing circles around your back while his left was playing with your hair. You stayed there, in that sense of comfort, that sense of belonging, that sense of peace, for a little bit longer. You picked your head up at him, only to see steel blue eyes looking back at you. They seemed like a haven to you, like a home that you could rest in.

“I’m sorry Bucky,” you apologized.

“For what? You didn't do anything,” he said confused. Your faces were only inches away from each other, and you could feel his breath, smelling like sugar and cotton candy.

“When are we going to do something about this… unspoken thing between us?” Bucky whispered.

“There's no unspoken thing,” you whispered back. At this moment, you doubted that Bucky was wrong. Because this has never happened to you and him before.

“Liar,” Bucky smiled, his lips only centimeters from yours.

“Prove it,” you challenged back. The next thing he did took your breath away, literally. He leaned into you to close that gap keeping you apart. He kissed your lips tenderly, making sure you wouldn't back off. His eyes were closed, savoring every moment.

At first, you were in shock, frozen by fear. Your eyes were open, trying to process everything. But the longer he remained on your lips, you weren't doing anything to stop him, and you felt your eyes flutter shut. You kissed him back, relishing in the feeling of his plump, pink lips on yours. You were on each other for so long that you didn't realize that you entered the final room of the ride. Then you and him separated, gasping for air.

“Did I prove it?” Bucky mocked.

“Maybe,” you grinned.

And you leaned back into him. You slowly moved onto his lap, for the remainder of the ride. One of your hands cupped his cheek while the other was lazily tangling his hair. His hands were gripped on your waist. His tongue was stretching on your lips, trying to get in. You obliged and your tongues danced together to some unknown rhythm. You could taste the sugar on his tongue. As you played with his hair, he let out a moan. As he did, he could feel you smiling through the kiss.

Then, Bucky peeked open his eyes and saw the exit approaching. He didn't want people to see you making out, and as much as he hated it, he had to get you off of him.

“Doll, we gotta go,” Bucky urged. You realized what he meant and before anyone saw, you slid off his lap and fixed your hair. You both left the ride and headed to his car, eager to get home.

“Wow, that was amazing,” you sighed, settling into your seat with all the toys and your bag in the backseat.

“I have to agree. You took my breath away, dreamboat,” Bucky quipped.

“Same, and you were a dreamboat back there as well,” you grinned. Bucky placed his hand back on your thigh, and you placed yours on top of his, just like before. But it wasn't to be friendly like the first time, but something more.

“Ya know, doll, I wasn't expecting to be necking,” Bucky chuckled as you drove off.

“I gotta say, you got a lotta moxie for that,” you laughed.

“You almost gave me the hots back there, sugar,”

“Did I now?” you teased. “Well too bad you can't do anything about that.”

“Shame. Stupid bet.” he sighed.

“Oh wait, don't tell Loki about this,” you said. “He will flip and probably do something to us. Or you.”

“You got it.” he agreed. “But if he does find out, or do something, what then?”

“To get honest, I don't know. But you've still got one more date left to truly convince me. And so does Loki.”

“I didn't convince you?” Bucky gasped.

“Not enough,” you teased, laughing at him as you drove home.

Bucky helped you get the stuffed animals and your bag and helped you back to your room. You took the llama, teddy bear and your bag back. He held onto the Captain America head and Spiderman inflatable. He gave you a kiss on the forehead before you bade each other goodnight.

As the door closed behind you, you sighed, letting out a small howl, releasing all the emotions you felt tonight. Your back fell to the door, and your knees gave out, leaving you against the door.

“Wow,” you sighed.

~~~

Bucky walked back to his room with a little pep in his step. He was in a much happier mood than normal. He was singing to himself and smiling all the way back to his room. His hair was messed up, but he didn’t care.

But someone was watching him. Loki. Loki saw how messed up Bucky's hair was. He saw the things Bucky didn't. Like the lipstick that was on his cheek.

Then Loki felt angry. But it wasn't even anger. It was hatred, fury and rage. It was boiling inside him and he didn't know what to do with himself. But then, that God of Mischief mindset kicked in. And he had an idea. An evil, wicked, horrible idea. One that would change everything.

“Oh, well,” Loki talked to himself. “I wanted to play nice. But you broke the rules. And you know what happens when you break the rules. You feel my wrath.”

#bucky x you #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky fandom #bucky fic #bucky fucking barnes #winter soldier #carnival #amusement rides #first date #love #love triangle #loki #loki fandom #loki (marvel)#loki odinson #james bucky barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

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irwintry · 6 years

Text

What Happens in Paris

Warnings: swearing, alcohol

Author’s Note: STAYs in paris!!!!!!!!!!!! anyway sorry i’m so Bad at writing anything good

also request for part two k bc i have ideas but like, i didnt want this to be so long

Word Count: 5k

part two

“It’s like, ten bucks, mate.”

Luke snorted. “For a fuckin’ scam, yeah.”

“Ya aren’t curious?”

“Y’know me,” he said. “I have a pair of five-hundred-dollar shoes in my closet that I’ve never worn. If I was curious, I’d be sittin’ in there with my head in my hands like an eager kid. Not doin’ it.”

Calum rolled his eyes. “Don’t you wanna know if you and that chic are gonna get back together? Just ten bucks.”

Luke sighed and glanced over at the pink neon “Psychic” sign that illuminated the stairs before them. The night had been rough–– breaking up and binge drinking followed by a muzzy stroll in back neighborhoods he had never visited before. The vibrant letters swirled and eddied around, and before Luke could catch himself, he began walking down the steps.

Calum let out a laugh. “All right, here we fuckin’ go.”

There was an overwhelming musty scent that filled Luke’s nostrils as stepped into the small apartment. He imagined it hardly smelled of anything at all, but his imagination was so strong, and the toxins in his blood were too intense. The couches and chairs were covered in large silk sheets and tapestries, and soft jazz music was playing from an Anker speak on the coffee table.

“Celebrities,” a low female voice said from a kitchen. She stepped out, tea kettle in hand and a smirk on her face. “That’s not a first.”

She was younger than what Luke expected, but a few laugh lines decorated the corners by her eyes. However, she spoke like a middle-aged smoker from Brooklyn. Her hair was in thick, red curls, and he imagined the difficulty of taming it–– he had trouble taming his own curls on the occasion.

“Take a seat,” she said, setting down the kettle on a doily in the center of a table. “You need it.”

Luke was unsure of the woman, but Calum was more eager to have his life spelled out for him. He nearly kicked the chair out from under him as he sat on the wicker beside a big, dusty fern.

“Tea?”

“Yes––

“No,” said Luke, his eyes narrowing in on his friend next to him.

The woman chuckled and began pouring hot water into two teacups. “Earl gray for you,” she said to Calum, and then she looked at Luke. “And rose for you.”

There was a knot forming in the pit of his stomach, and it grew larger as the teacup slid in his direction. The woman, who Luke would later know as Gina, sat across from the two of them and smiled. She spoke with her hands, and he found himself focusing in on the fluidity of the motions.

“I like the energy in this room,” she said. “It’s–– it’s light and positive. But there are some... interruptions. Like the positive is interacting with a negative, and it’s creating this ugly––aaughh––amalgamation.” Her eyes fell to Luke. “You. You haven’t been a good person.”

“What?” he asked, his voice reaching a high register while his friend laughed beside him.

The woman grinned. He didn’t like her grin. “Don’t act so surprised. Y-you have good qualities, eh, y’know? You love people and you always have. But you feel a lot of power. And, look at ya, honey. Money is a big part of that. You live in a constant cycle of excitement and stress, and the people that come and go in your life are greatly affected by you. But ya haven’t been good to them!”

“This is fuckin’ bullshit,” said Luke as he stood. “I don’t need this.”

“And you’re sad!”

“What?”

“But you’re too sad to realize you’re sad,” she continued. “There is a person in your life who is conflictin’ you. I’m sensing that they don’t mean much to you righ’ now, but the more you are around them, the more you will question who you are. Drink your fuckin’ tea.”

Luke huffed and returned to his seat. “What the fuck is happening,” he muttered, but it wasn’t a question. Calum was still stifling a laugh.

“They don’t like you right now,” the woman continued. “It is radiating off of you like fuckin’ UV rays, honey. They will mess with your feelings as you struggle to figure out your own. And–– “

“What is this shit?” Luke asked. “Like, what are you even telling me? Why is this person important to me?”

The woman chuckled darkly. “You’re going to fall in love with them, honey.”

“Who the fuck invited you?”

“I the fuck invited me,” you replied, hands folded across your chest as you brushed by the tall blond. “I’m here to see Cal, ya dipshit. I’m getting his house key.”

Luke let out a huff and pushed the front door shut behind him. The night before tour was a night full of traditions, and nearly all of his close friends participated in the so-called rituals. You, however, were not his friend. You were Ashton and Michael’s, and especially Calum’s, but you were not, under any circumstance, Luke’s friend. So, of all nights for you to drop by unexpectedly, it had to be the night of pre-tour traditions.

“Still didn’t fucking invite you,” he called after you, but you had already made your way into the kitchen where the group gathered. “Jesus fuckin’–– “

A loud chorus of “aye”’s and “hey”’s filled the room as you entered. He ambled in after you, his shoulders tight while he watched you go around and hug the people he was closest to. They all loved you, he knew that. And, he hated that.

“Ya didn’t tell me you invited Y/N,” said Ashton. He nudged his friend teasingly before adding in a wink. “When d’ya get the hots for her?”

Luke glared at him. “I’d run onto the 405 naked before I would ever consider even hugging her.”

“Damn, ‘kay then.” Ashton chuckled. He walked back towards the kitchen island where their mates were eating.

The traditions were light. They were simple, relaxing things that the band never had the chance to do, like movie nights and large orders of Uber Eats. Most nights, they went out and experienced life like typical chumps would do. But pre-tour traditions meant R&R, and you were not R&R.

To Luke, it seemed as though the rest of his friends enjoyed your company. His blood boiled at the thought of his night being ruined by you. His friends would tell him to avoid you and not let you spoil his fun, but he simply could avoid the frustration building while you laughed at stupid jokes. He would be laughing to had he actually cared for your company. If he kicked you out, it would ruin the night for his friends. Because of you, Luke really could not win.

And then, you said, “well, I gotta bounce. Am I dropping by your place at around nine tomorrow, Cal?”

To this, Luke nearly beamed.

“Nine on the dot,” responded Calum as he tilted his drink towards you.

“Cool beans.”

Another friend interjected the conversation. “C’mon, you can stay for a bit, can’t you? Maybe Luke will finally be the one to win the tattoo draw. Bet you’d pay to see that.”

Luke could feel perspiration under his arms at the thought of you staying and being touched by a needle.

“Tattoo draw?” you asked, dangling the key to Calum’s house between your fingers.

“Tattoo draw,” Michael affirmed. “Whoever won, well, lost the draw last time picks a tattoo for the next person who’s drawn. They’re small tattoos, but they’re often fuckin’ shit. I have a tattoo of Cal’s response to his dick pick on the back of my thigh.”

“That was so long ago,” someone piped.

You chortled. “No offense, but these pre-tour traditions are kinda–– “

“Oh, they’re lame,” interrupted Michael, “we know. But they’re fucking funny when you’re high out of your mind.”

You glanced over to Luke, who felt as though he was sweating like a pig, then back at the group of friends before you. “I’m in.”

Luke had contributed $200 to the pool. Throughout the past few years, the total money in the pot increased as the band’s fame continued moving up. And still, even after all of this time, he had been fortunate to not have his name drawn. The only bonus was the cash prize–– and you were also inked for the rest of your life.

But it wasn’t all that bad. It would be a memory, and Luke was fond of memories.

The anger that followed your presence had begun to fade as the night went on. Thoughts were foggy, words were garbled, and laughter filled the concrete walls and penetrated the thick, cloudy rooms. Plenty of crap foods had been consumed, plus two bottles of whiskey, by the time names were drawn.

You were right, Luke thought. Everything about the traditions were lame, and they were only routine because of their old teenage minds. The hazier he felt, the more he became lost in his own brain.

And then your name was drawn.

He had to keep himself from bursting into screeching laughter. It was easy to read the pure terror written all over your features from your wide eyes to your deep frown. Ashton, who had been last tour’s tattoo winner, nudged you playfully.

“’s all right, babe,” he said. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t wanna. Someone will be glad to do it for ya, I’m sure.”

You stared at the money pool on the coffee table before you. “I get all of that?”

Ashton nodded.

“You promise the tattoo’ll be small?

“Microscopic.”

You sighed. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Luke kept quiet for the next half hour as the group waited for the arrival of the tattoo artist. He watched your face, how it contorted and how it relaxed. He was hyper-focused on every little line and detail of your skin, and it was all because of how your demeanor changed. You appeared vulnerable now, a stark contrast to what Luke had known for nearly a year. You were witty. You were always ready to tear someone down with words when necessary. But now, you were nervous. You weren’t the same.

It bothered him tremendously.

Things only went downhill from there. Ashton, being the cocky bloke he occasionally could be, had a brilliant idea.

“I know how much you love Luke,” he said, an odd smirk toying on his lips as he exchanged glances between the two of you. “I want you to get his name tattooed.”

Luke choked on his glass of whiskey.

You snorted. “Nope. That’s a funny one, Irwin.”

“No money for ya then.”

“I don’t even know how much is in there,” you said. Meanwhile, the artist looked less than pleased to be here, and Luke didn’t blame him.

Calum winced and said, “’bout four thousand, babe. It’s a pretty big one this year.”

You gaped, mouth falling wide as you glared at Luke, who, truth be told, had no say in the situation. As much as he didn’t want his name on your body, it would have been kind of funny otherwise.

“I’ll shoot you a proposition,” said Ashton, his foot landing on the chair beside your thigh so he could lean over you. “Instead of his full name, just get his initials. L-R-H.”

Luke hated this.

“That’s–– “ You looked at Luke again, almost as if you were waiting for his approval. He didn’t speak. ‘That’s not so bad.”

Ashton grinned.

“Where would I get it?”

“Under-boob!” a voice called out from behind Luke.

A few groans washed through the group, and even Luke felt upset with the suggestion. He hated you, but he didn’t hate you that much.

“You shut your fuckin’ face, Stevens,” you responded, and that caused Luke to smile. There was the old you.

Ashton shrugged. “Anywhere you want it.”

And then, after looking Luke dead in the eyes for the thousandth time that night, you smirked. Finally, a rush of confidence flooded over you, and it chilled him to his very core. He didn’t understand why it cut right through his chest, and then you said, “under-boob it is.”

Luke decided he would no longer hold anything back. He hated you through and through.

Luke kept his mouth shut when his friends mentioned you. He kept it shut when they called you and talked about inside jokes. He kept it shut when they drunkenly stated they missed you. But when the Paris tour date came around and you were seated at their brunch table, he couldn’t keep himself from saying, “why the fuck are you here?”

And his friends were quick to defend, just like Luke expected. At that moment, it finally hit him that it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t be himself around you. It didn’t matter that he was the only one uncomfortable with your presence. It didn’t matter, because Luke finally realized he had no reason to feel this way. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling.

Maybe he didn’t hate you. Maybe his blood just boiled because everyone loved you, and he didn’t love you. Maybe he found frustration in every one of your actions because he was the only one who couldn’t enjoy himself when you were there. Maybe he just had to take two seconds to get over himself and let others be happy.

Luke sunk in his seat, eyes glued on the condensation on the side of his mimosa glass while his friends chatted and laughed. He thumbed his napkin, powdered sugar coating his fingers once more. For the first time since knowing you, Luke felt guilty for treating you the way he did.

He didn’t speak for the next hour and a half. And, when he did speak, it was a word or two at a time, gaze cast to the roads once painted in the blood of the French Revolution. He wasn’t much up for going out on the town when night fell–– it was better he preserved his voice for the concert tomorrow anyway. Instead, he remained in his tiny hotel room, sweaty feet kicked up on the thousand-thread duvet while a French dubbed Iron Man 2 played on his television. At one point, he ordered himself room service, and the apple cobbler plus a sparkling bottle of white wine were too big for him to finish alone.

And somehow, as if it were fate, there was a soft knock on his door.

Luke stumbled over, slightly buzzed already as he looked through the dirty peephole to see you. He swung the door open.

“Why’re you here?” he asked, surprisingly without a swear. “Thought you were with the rest.”

You glanced behind him. “I smelled apple cobbler,” you said. A shrug and a smirk later, you made your way past him.

Luke rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him. “Didn’t invite you in.”

You were already sat on the opposite twin bed, hand reaching for the fancy bottle on the nightstand before taking a long swig of the bubbly drink.

“Why’re you here?” he repeated.

“I–– “ You let out a satisfied sigh and set the bottle down. “I got tired. Got in an Uber pool with this gorgeous dude who kept using the words très belle, and then I remembered you were home.”

Luke sat on his bed and quirked an eyebrow at you. “You got tired and came here? What, are you on crack?”

You laughed, and he kind of did, too.

“Y’hate me,” he said. “You’re not here without reason.”

You raised your hands in surrender. “Kay,” you said, “ya got me. I wanna make out with you. Have a lil bang-bang-bang action.”

Luke had to keep himself from chuckling again. “Shut the fuck up.”

You grinned; your eyes were brighter than he had ever seen them around him. The two of you were both a little tipsy, and he chose to blame that for him not being totally upset with you invading his quiet night.

Things fell silent for a moment, and he let himself get lost in the foreign dialogue of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts.

“Why do you hate me?”

Luke’s head snapped over to you. You were relaxed, legs spread on the leg before you with your back against the headboard, and you were still facing the television. The bottle of wine was now in between your thighs.

“I wanted to be your friend so badly,” you said. “When I got your number, I put a little heart next to your name. And then, you never answered me when I tried to text you. You started rolling your eyes at everything I said, even when I was just walkin’ up to greet you. I thought my occasional teasing was just harmless. Is that–– is that why you hate me?”

Luke frowned. He had no idea what to say, especially since he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, and you couldn’t even look at him.

“I-I guess I just need you to tell me that my efforts are pointless,” you mumbled, hands reaching out to pick up the bottle from between your legs. “I feel stupid even bein’ around ya now.”

“No,” he said, “I don’t hate you. I’m sorry.”

Finally, you looked his way. “Let’s get drunk.”

The night muddled through, and to Luke’s surprise, he hadn’t had simple fun like that in ages. In your beautiful drunken stupor, you spoke your best French, although it came out as slurred gibberish while you danced around to the soundtrack from the movie Mannequin. His stomach ached from laughter, and at one point, he even joined you. He didn’t think twice about his hands lazily resting on your hips while the two of you passed the second bottle of wine around. The phone rang at about one in the morning; it was a lovely call from the front desk about a noise complaint.

Luke giggled around you. Colors and shapes swirled around him a little more than usual, and your touch burned his already-hot skin. By the time endorphins calmed and the night slowed to a stop, deep conversations met pillow talk. He was hesitant to speak on behalf of his feelings, but you were keen on sharing your entire life story and traumas with him. You cried, and he let it be on his shoulder. He chose to talk about himself for once, to get the pressure off of you. Cuddling became tickling, and soon enough, the two of you were shouting lyrics to “Beat Patrol” with uncontrollable laughter once again. When you said goodnight, your arms tossed themselves around his waist as you pecked his flushed cheeks. And then you were gone, and he decided he didn’t like the absence.

He didn’t forget about it the next day. You were quiet, and you kept your distance, so he did the same. But something had changed, that he knew. It pricked at his stomach, and when you hopped aboard a flight the next day after that, he realized he missed you. It was funny how a mere few hours could change a mind.

“Do you think Y/N was the one that psychic talked about?”

“What?”

Calum had been silently chewing on a cold slice of pizza when the question hit his brain. Luke, on the other hand, was washing down his midnight meal with a bottle of beer. The tour had been over for about a week, and they had all been sleeping for days straight. Well, all except for Luke, who found himself unable to close his eyes while he tried not to think about that one night with you. It was one fucking night. By this point, nearly all of the events had vanished from his mind, but he couldn’t shake the honest happiness he felt while singing along to cheesy songs from the 1980s. He couldn’t get over your impromptu stand-up comedy show and your terrible John Mulaney impression.

“The psychic, Gina,” said Calum. “You remember that, right?”

“Yeah,” Luke replied, a little wary of where the conversation was headed.

Calum straightened his posture and slapped the pizza back down onto the greasy cardboard box. “D’ya think Y/N is who she was talking about?”

“I–– “ Luke thought for a moment as he racked his brain. He hadn’t mentioned that night with you to anyone, but they all knew his prior distaste for you. Now, he couldn’t help but think of the accuracy of the psychic’s testament. You didn’t like him, he didn’t like you, but now he kind of did like you. “No,” he said, “not a chance. It’s Y/N. Fuckin’ hate her.”

Calum nodded. A frown pulled at his lips. “She’s great, mate. Y’oughta give her a chance.”

Luke had given you a chance, and it worked all too well.

“Maybe you’ll fall in love with her.”

The blond snorted. “I can’t even be in the same room as her, Cal. Don’t see romantic escapades in our future. No–– no drunken late-nights with comedy impressions and Starship dance-offs.”

“’s oddly specific, but okay,” said Calum. He shut the pizza box a moment later and slid it back into the fridge, and meanwhile, Luke felt a pit growing in his stomach. “You’re too stubborn,” his friend continued. “And ugly. Like, too damn ugly for her anyway.”

Luke smirked, tilting his beer in Calum’s direction. “Cheers to that, mate.”

Through the dying laughter, Luke’s smile fell into a frown, and he couldn’t quite grasp the reason why. It was possible that the idea of falling for someone like you didn’t seem so terrible after all.

A few dozen people had gathered in the backyard by the time you arrived. Luke spent the first hour of the party cradling a beer, keeping himself out of sight on the porch but in view of the pool. His shirt had already become unbuttoned, and his curls had loosened and stuck flat against his skin due to the humidity in the hot air. And you... you looked marvelous.

Luke had been so focused on trying not to think about you, he ended up thinking about you every hour of every day. He caught himself scrolling through your Instagram page after failing to fall asleep, and he thought about what would have happened had you stayed in his hotel room a little longer. When your face popped into his brain, his heart hurt. He had started to idealize the two of you together–– exactly what he hadn’t wanted.

So, he isolated himself in the kitchen after your arrival, a series of nonconsecutive thoughts whirling through his head while he chipped away at the sticker on his warm beer. The party was outside, and he was in there, wondering how on earth he let himself start falling for the person he never wanted to know.

“I told Calum to queue up some Starship.”

Your voice was confident as you slid the back door closed behind you. Luke focused on your footsteps, but he refused to turn around as you approached him.

“If I can’t jam to some “Beat Patrol”, then honestly, what’s the point of being here?” you continued with a light laugh. You were grinning from ear to ear when you placed yourself in front of Luke, the close proximity causing him to hold in a gasp.

He cracked a smile. “Who invited you?”

“I invited myself,” you replied, “thank you very much.” You tilted your drink in his direction before taking a quick sip and setting it beside Luke’s on the counter. “The question is: why are you in here alone, bud? Lookin’ so glum n’ all.”

Luke’s heartbeat had begun to pick up, and humidity from the outside had seeped its way into the kitchen. He placed his palms on his pants to dry them off.

You frowned–– he had taken too long to answer. “You okay?”

He nearly jumped at the feeling of your hand brushing against his arm, and then he noticed that you had moved slightly closer. “I–– “ Luke coughed. “’m fine.” The weight on his arm never left.

“C-can I ask you something?” you spoke up again after a few moments of silence. You didn’t wait for his answer. “Do you hate me?”

His eyes met yours, despite the pain settling in his chest because of the contact. “You’ve asked me that before,” he said and smirked.

“I know,” you said quickly. “But, do you?”

Luke shook his head. “No. I could–– I could never.”

You nodded.

He nearly leaned in a little. The heavy tension and spike in energy tilted his body and its weight on the balls of his feet, but he held back in fear. All he wanted to do was see how you felt beneath his touch.

“Okay,” you then mumbled. Your voice was hushed, and you refused to look at him again. Somehow, the distance between the two of you shrunk once again.

Luke swallowed. His fingers played with the neck of his half-empty bottle; they spun it around and around while his brain told him what to do and what not to do.

And then, the hand that had been grazing his arm moved up to rest on his chest, and Luke restrained himself from completely losing himself in you. It was as if the music from the world outside had been sucked into a vacuum, and the air around him was dense with heat and sexual tension, but he could only notice your breath ghosting his lips. There was something about the nudging of noses and fluttering of eyelids that pushed him over the edge. So, when your lips finally met in a soft, velvety kiss, he couldn’t hold back the desire that had been building up for months.

While your hands plaited through his hair, Luke’s were firm on your waist. He had pulled you into him, all previous thoughts out the door while your lips slotted against his. It was wet yet warm, and a familiar sensation tightened in his abdomen. His cheeks were hot and pink–– that he knew for sure.

But you pulled away quickly, gasps falling as you sputtered out apologies. “I shouldn’t–– that was–– weird, right?”

Luke wanted to shake his head no, but instead, all he could do was nod.

“We–– we hate ea–– I’m sorry,” you said, grabbing your beer quickly and making a b-line for the sliding glass door.

Underneath Luke’s eyes, the skin burned, but he quickly shook it off. He wasn’t going to cry because you walked out on him. He was, however, disheartened tremendously.

The rest of the night, he spent his time avoiding you. Truth be told, he spent his time avoiding everyone. He loitered around his practice room, used the bathroom for twenty minutes, and locked himself in his room until the crowd outside died down. No one bothered to check up on him, not even you. It was when he had come to terms with his isolation that you knocked on his door and stumbled in. Immediately, he knew you had a few too many drinks.

Neither of you said a word as you ambled over, giggles leaving your lips before you flopped onto his bed beside him. Pillows flew and the duvet slipped to the floor, but Luke didn’t care. In the beginning, he never wanted to picture you in his bed–– it made him sick to think about. But then he purposefully avoided the thought, for he simply knew he’d find himself wanting to picture it more and more. So now, he had to keep his stomach from knotting. He had to keep himself from looking over and spilling out a word-vomit of feelings that he didn’t even want to have.

And then, you started touching his face.

At first, Luke wanted to laugh. You were cute albeit clumsy, yet the silence and evident tension settled in his shoulders, and every graze of your fingers on his flushed skin sent shivers up his spine. Fingers running over cheeks and closed eyelids, your touch so gentle he could barely feel it, but he did. You brushed the ridge of his brows, the curve of his nose, and finally, the dip of his cupid’s bow. He couldn’t breathe as you lightly traced the soft skin of his lips.

His lips felt cold once your fingers left, but they soon skimmed the hollowing of his cheeks back down to where his lips parted in a silent gasp. You pressed one finger against the separation of skin, and he kissed it gently. Then, you placed another finger there, and he continued.

Luke wanted to shoo your hand away. He blinked up at the ceiling while your hand traveled down his Adam’s Apple and onto his collarbones. Your touch was so light, so beautiful–– he was completely enamored at this moment. He had to clench his jaw while your hand traced the hairs on his chest.

The weight in his bed shifted, and suddenly your body was wedged up against his, your nose nudging his chest as you peppered kisses up and down it. Luke’s heart rate decided to make a break for it.

“No, no, no,” he breathed out, reaching over and pushing you away from him. He rose instantly while his hands fumbled to button up his shirt. It would be obvious to anyone as to how utterly flustered he was. “No, you can’t–– you can’t do that to me.”

You grinned. “Why not? Yer so pretty! Like a fuckin’ angel that fell from heaven. You glow.”

“I-I don’t–– no, what?” Luke sputtered, nerves rising to his throat as he finally got a good look at you in your drunken state. He already knew what you were like drunk, but he never saw you like this while sober.

“Ya deserves to be kissed,” you said.

Luke wanted to smile; except he couldn’t have things end up this way. He felt so much, maybe too much, and he wanted it to be good. You had hardly blinked.

“Um,” Luke whispered, “thanks. I–– I should–– I should check on the party.”

“Oh, yeah!” you squeaked. “Go, go, go!”

He nodded, excusing himself quickly and then shutting the door behind him. But he couldn’t walk any farther than that. With a sigh, he pressed his back against the door and looked down to his feet. Every muscle in his body tensed and relaxed while his brain went black. Luke didn’t know what to think. He wasn’t sure he would ever know how to admit how he felt. However, he did know that needed to pay a certain psychic a visit.

part two

418 notes · View notes

snarkystjames · 4 years

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Listen To Your Heart || St. Berry

Date: December 13th. Late afternoon

Location: McKinley High School & Rachel’s house

Starring: Rachel Berry @starberrycupcake & Jesse St. James

Notes: Jesse shows up at McKinley after hearing Rachel is banned from seeing her boyfriend. He offers to help her study.

Warnings: partial song fic bc it’s glee (gross)

Rachel Berry:

Rachel had begun the year determined and not distracted by anything and now here she was, almost the end of the first semester of her senior year completely consumed with something other than the future. It had felt so good to be so focused on Hunter and absolutely nothing else but now that she was grounded until her grades were up, she was frustrated with herself. She didn’t regret being with Hunter in the least bit. She’d had the best, most wild three months of her entire life and she wasn’t about to regret any of it because of school. She would just have to pull herself together and quickly get her grades up and she and Hunter would be off to starting their future in no time.

Her teachers were seemingly exasperated with her constant requests for extra credit and make-up work so she could hopefully pull her grade up before her GPA dropped significantly. Though reluctant, they still gave her a much needed chance and she knew that if she could just get it all done she would be set and she could see Hunter on her birthday without having to sneak around. It had only been a couple of days but knowing she couldn’t see Hunter made her want to see him even more.

Rachel was just finishing up glee club when she sent a text to her boyfriend, letting him know she was finally out of class and was thinking of him when she bumped into a familiar face right outside the door, almost knocking her phone out of her hand. “Oh! Jesse!” She glanced around to make sure her glee peers were nowhere to be found. “If any of the New Directions see you, they’re going to flip out on me.” She let her eyes trail up to his face, her demeanor softening a bit. “What’re you doing here, anyway?”

Jesse St. James:

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m here to see you, of course,” Jesse replied with his usual confident demeanor. He had been waiting right outside and as soon as he’d seen Rachel come out of the room, he was right in front of her. He didn’t care whether or not any of the other New Directions’ kids would’ve spotted him. “I’m not here to spy but you were amazing in that last number-- someone might want to tell Finn that he was a little pitchy on the last refrain because he probably doesn’t even realize.”

Jesse smoothed out the front of his jacket, playing with the ends of his chiffon scarf for just a moment before smiling at Rachel. “Vocal Adrenaline is taking a break from rehearsals today-- a rarity-- so I thought it'd be the perfect opportunity to see you. Is your boyfriend going to mind if I'm here to see you?"

Rachel Berry:

Rachel felt a little apprehensive about seeing Jesse at all much less alone, especially considering the smile that involuntary spread across her face at the way he told her he was there for her. Their history was complicated and Jesse had a great track record of making her feel on top of the world and then ripping the rug out from under her. For some reason, however, she trusted him each time. Even now despite her apprehension she could feel the trust.

Rachel chuckled, shaking her head. “Finn was fine, he’ll be ready by competition. We did win Sectionals after all.” A cheeky grin spread across her face as she looked at her former lover but it quickly faded when he mentioned Hunter. She felt mildly uncomfortable in that moment, thinking she should maybe tell Hunter about this little run in. “I’m sure Hunter wouldn’t be thrilled to know you’re here, especially considering that I’m grounded and not even allowed to see him.”

Nibbling on her bottom lip, Rachel glances around again before sighing. He had come all this way to see her. “I can’t really hang out too long because my dads will be home in a couple of hours and I’m supposed to be home when they get there…” she offered, letting him know that if he wanted, she could make the time for him.

Jesse St. James:

“Congratulations on the Sectionals win, by the way. It’ll be fun to see you and your boyfriend go head-to-head at Regionals; I’m sure we’ll be seeing you at Nationals again this year,” Jesse grinned. Upon hearing that she and Hunter were banned from seeing each other due to her being grounded, an idea popped into his head. Any time an opportunity presented itself to Jesse, he was raring to grasp it at first chance.

“So let’s go to your house,” Jesse suggested, completely unbothered with the fact that he just invited himself over to Rachel’s house. “I’m sure your dads will be supportive of you getting homework help from me; I did go to college, after all.” Of course he intentionally left out the fact that he’d dropped out because he didn’t actually go to his classes. But that wasn’t a necessary detail right now.

Rachel Berry:

“Thank you,” Rachel grinned. “It will be a lot of fun because he’s as competitive as I am. That is if the Warblers even let him stay long enough.” She rolled her eyes, sighing as she thought of all the drama that Hunter had been through so far this year. “Of course I’ll be at Nationals. I have to win, it’s crucial to my reputation-- if I can start out in the Broadway scene as a national show choir champion it’ll be extremely helpful in getting the respect that I deserve.”

Rachel raised her eyebrows at how forward Jesse was, though it shouldn’t have come as such a shock. “Jes, what makes you think I can have anyone over if I can’t have my boyfriend over?” She asked him, nodding her head towards the way she would begin to walk. “Wait, you want to help me with my homework?” She giggled. “Do you even know anything about Trigonometry?” Rachel couldn’t remember the last time - if there was ever a time - that Jesse even talked about homework or anything that wasn’t related to show choir or Broadway. “I have some make-up homework- I actually could use help on it.” She said as she approached her locker, opening it up to grab the homework she needed to take home. “I had thought about sneaking out to Westerville but I don’t really have a way to get there and back before LeRoy and Hiram get home so..” She shrugged.

Jesse St. James:

As Rachel walked towards her locker, Jesse accompanied her and met her pace. “Yeah, I’m great at math,” he boasted, though he honestly couldn’t say what he knew what trigonometry even looked like. “It’s just like, adding and subtracting stuff, right? How hard could it be?” At the mention of her going off to Westerville, Jesse nibbled on the inside of his cheek. He wanted to say something about how that was a bad idea and Hunter was causing her to neglect her studies but he thought it wiser to keep his mouth shut.

“Oh, before I forget,” he spoke up as she rummaged through her locker for her things. He pulled out a slim jewelry gift box, held closed by a simple gold ribbon. “I brought you your birthday present in case we don’t see each other before then. I figured you could use the pick-me-up after being grounded, too.” He handed off the box, giving her an expectant look for her to open it now. He looked happy and hopeful as she opened it to reveal a necklace with a small gold star charm.

Rachel Berry:

Rachel shook her head as a giggle fell from her lips. She wasn’t sure if he was joking or not but she was among towards him being serious which was no help to her. Still, it would be nice to have the company for a little bit. She was about to speak again when Jesse interrupted her by pulling out the small jewelry box.

“What’s this?” A grin spread from ear to ear as she closed her locker and took the gift from him. When she opened it up to reveal the golden star, Rachel’s stomach flipped. “Oh, Jes…” her grin faltered a little bit as the weight of the gift settled in her. It was incredibly sweet and it made her heart skip a beat. “You shouldn’t have, I can’t accept this..” she tried weakly to deny his thoughtful gift. “It’s too much.” Her brown eyes looked up to meet his, her voice soft.

Jesse St. James:

“Stop it, it’s your birthday gift,” Jesse pushed, taking the gift box from her and stepping behind her. “A girl such as yourself should have the best accessories to accentuate your beauty and talent.” He helped to put it around her neck and once he was done, he returned to stand in front of her to get a good look. “See? It looks perfect.” You look perfect.

So it was probably pretty obvious to everyone that Jesse still had feelings for Rachel but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do nice things for her-- especially since the gift was for her birthday. With Hunter out of the way for the time being, he knew this was his chance to get back in Rachel’s good graces and establish himself as her close friend. “So? Are we going back to your place to study?”

Rachel Warbler:

Rachel bit down on her lip as Jesse moved to slip the necklace around her neck, placing her hand on the small gold star that now rested on the base of her neck. It was the sweetest gift anyone had ever given her. When he came back to get a look at her, a blush painted her cheeks at his words. Shaking her head gently, Rachel smiled at him. “Thanks, Jesse. I really love it.” She felt the warmth in her cheeks spreading down her neck, the effect he had on her was obvious and she was regrettably transparent.

When Jesse suggested going to her house, she let out a soft sigh, checking the time. “I suppose, but you have to leave at five. You can’t be there when my dads get home, I’m walking a fine line and I don’t want to not see Hunter until we graduate.” She explained as she gathered her things, closing up her locker for the day. Hunter. She again felt compelled to let Hunter know that Jesse had showed up. “And you have to help me with my homework to some extent- no distractions.” Rachel pulled out her phone as she led the way to leave the school, sending a text to Hunter to give him the heads up that Jesse showed up at McKinley and was giving her a ride home. “Can I get a ride home?” She asked Jesse, glancing over at him. “My dads dropped me off and I’m supposed to get a ride from Kurt but there’s no need for him to go out of his way since you’re here.” She smiled.

Jesse St. James:

Jesse grinned ear to ear when Rachel finally agreed to him coming over. Even if it was a few hours, he’d take what he could get. “Yeah, of course. My Range Rover is parked right over here,” he gestured in the direction of his car once they were outside. “I promise I won’t do anything to distract you but I also wouldn’t be opposed to singing with you if you wanted; it’s been a while since we’ve had a duet together. You know our voices sound phenomenal together.”

When they both got into the car, Jesse’s phone connected via bluetooth and he scrolled through his music, looking for the perfect song for such an occasion. He knew the Rachel Berry he loved-- who also loved him-- was in there somewhere… He just needed to coax her out. The opening melody of Roxette’s Listen To Your Heart started playing over the speakers as Jesse started driving out of the parking lot and towards Rachel’s home.

Rachel Berry:

A smile spread across Rachel’s face when Jesse suggested singing with her. It had been a bit since they’d had the pleasure of singing together and she would be lying to herself and everyone else if she said they didn’t fit together vocally. He was the only person that could ever keep up with her talent. That is, until she met Hunter. “I suppose a harmless duet wouldn’t hurt.” She said as she got into his car, settling in and buckling her seatbelt.

When she heard the first note of the song flow through the speakers, her stomach clenched and she glanced over at Jesse, a small grin tugging at her lips. She knew the song and she knew it well, obviously. His choice of song wasn’t lost on her and she knew that she shouldn’t lead him on-- but she also couldn’t resist a chance to belt out one of her most favorite classics. Shifting in her seat a little, she folded her hands in her lap, closing her eyes.

I know there's something in the wake of your smile I get a notion from the look in your eyes, yeah You've built a love but that love falls apart Your little piece of Heaven turns too dark

Jesse St. James:

Jesse had known that Rachel couldn’t resist this song. When she started singing in that crystal-clear voice that Jesse adored so much, he couldn’t help but to smile and nod his head. He kept his eyes on the road but glanced over to her whenever he had the chance. These days, it was rare for him to hear Rachel singing unless it was at a competition. Singing with her was an even rarer occurrence.

When the next verse started, he sang along with her. Just like the first time they sang Hello together in the music library those years ago, their voices melted together beautifully.

Listen to your heart

When he's calling for you

Listen to your heart

There's nothing else you can do

While stopped at a red light, Jesse looked over to her and when he caught her gaze, smiled brightly at them. Regardless if on a big stage, in the choir room, or doing a little karaoke in the car, Jesse always enjoyed singing with her.

Rachel Berry:

When Jesse’s voice melted with hers during the chorus, Rachel couldn’t stop the smile that appeared on her face, looking over to Jesse to catch his eye when they were stopped.

Sometimes you wonder if this fight is worthwhile

The precious moments are all lost in the tide, yeah

They're swept away and nothing is what is seems

The feeling of belonging to your dreams

She kept her eyes on Jesse as she sang with him, giving it her all as usual. She could feel something crawling up from the depths of her heart, something that was supposed to be shoved deep down to never be touched again. It felt good to sing with Jesse but for a brief moment as she looked to the man next to her she saw Hunter- the mirage taking her breath for a split second. Rachel shook her head, she sang with other people all of the time, it didn’t mean anything because it was Jesse.

The only man who’d ever come close to knowing her as much as Hunter did.

Jesse St. James:

Jesse was in high spirits as they continued to harmonize through the song. He liked the way she looked at him when they sang to each other. After the song eventually came to an end, Jesse turned down the volume as the next track played.

“Still as amazing as always; it’s a wonder why you’re not already on the fast track to Broadway,” he said to her. They were just a few blocks away from her house by now. “It’s too bad you can’t pass all your classes by just singing… You’d be valedictorian.”

When they pulled up to the house, Jesse parked his car in the driveway. It’d been a little while since he’d been over to her house-- not since when they were still dating each other. It almost felt like stepping into a timewarp, into the past.

Rachel Berry:

Rachel blushed again for the second time that day when Jesse complimented her, giggling softly. “That’s really sweet.” She said, looking over at him as he parked. “What about you, though? You’re equally as talented as I am...if not more so. You shouldn’t be here in Ohio-- you should be in New York already.” She shook her head, her tone serious. “I know Vocal Adrenaline is important to you...but they’re holding you back.”

She knew from the times they’d spoken that Jesse wasn’t back solely for Vocal Adrenaline-- but for her. “You can’t let anything-- including me-- hold you back.” Nibbling on her bottom lip, she grinned a little, reaching over to place her hand on his. “You’re too good for this place, Jes.” Rachel gave his hand a gentle squeeze before moving to take off her seatbelt.

Jesse St. James:

Jesse was quiet for a moment after Rachel told him that he shouldn’t let anything hold him back. It was nice that someone believed in him-- that he was destined for bigger and better things than Ohio. He squeezed her hand back and smiled at her. “This is just a temporary gig-- another credit I can list on my growing résumé,” he insisted, knowing that he couldn’t be confined to such “small picture” ventures.

When they exited the vehicle, Jesse let Rachel lead the way up the path towards the front door. “But for the record, it isn’t you that’s holding me back,” Jesse clarified, pausing for a moment to clear his throat, “New York is still my future. You’re part of that future, too.”

Rachel Berry:

Rachel paused briefly with her keys in the door as Jesse reiterated that she would be part of that future. It was sort of flattering that Jesse was so adamant. She may be part of his future career-wise but romantically she just couldn’t do it. Anytime the thought tried to crawl out from the back of her mind all she could see was Hunter. “We will take over the Broadway scene,” she chuckled, opening the door to let them in. “Our names will be in everyone’s mouth.” She dreamed for a moment about her and Jesse being friends and being a powerful force in New York together.

“You and Hunter getting along is crucial, though, or it’ll never work.” Rachel cleared her throat as she led him into the dining room, placing her things on the table. She was suddenly very aware that she was alone with Jesse and it made her palms a little sweaty. “So, uh, trigonometry…”

Jesse St. James:

"Oh, definitely. The first time you have a leading role, you and I will win for Best Actress and Best Actor; we'll do so much press as the two ingenues from Podunk, Ohio who made names for themselves-- together." Jesse followed Rachel into her home, also acutely aware that with her parents not present it made them very much alone. He took the time to take a look around, familiarizing himself with how things looked similar to the last time he was here. Nostalgia washed over him, picturing his teenage self with a doe-eyed sixteen year old Rachel Berry singing duets together around the piano in the living room.

Jesse forced himself to step away from the past, aware that he needed to put himself in the present to continue being part of Rachel's life. "So what's Hunter's plans? College in New York? He probably wants to do something boring like being an accountant, right?"

Rachel Berry:

Rachel chuckled to herself as she took a seat at the table, noticing the way Jesse skirted around her prompt for the homework help that he’d come for. She should’ve known better-- Jesse couldn’t actually help her with her homework. He just wanted to spend time with her and if she were being honest, she did, too. She wanted to spend time with him without Hunter around so she could assess Jesse’s actual intentions and feelings and if he could actually handle just being her friend.

“I told you, we’re moving to New York. He’s wanting to go to Cornell- which, admittedly, isn’t ideal because it puts two more hours between us than we have now but it’s not like we can’t make it work. We’ll meet halfway most times, I’m sure.” She said, having not given much thought to their future other than the fact that they were going into it together, even if it meant being apart for a few more years. “His father wants him to go into the Navy, follow in his footsteps. But we haven’t talked about that much, though.” Nibbling on her lip, Rachel tried to push the thought from her mind as she usually did. She hoped that when the time came, Hunter would choose her over the Navy without prompt and she didn’t have to be that girl.

Jesse St. James:

“Navy?” Jesse murmured to himself, wondering how that would impact Rachel’s future. “So he’ll be on a boat somewhere? Like a sailor out to sea for weeks and weeks at a time..? Doesn’t sound like fun.” He finished perusing through the living room before returning to Rachel’s side at the dining room table. Her books were spread out on the table and when Rachel opened up the math book, his eyes became wide like saucers. He couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was looking at, but he wasn’t about to make that apparent.

“A sailor and a broadway superstar don’t really mix, do they? It’s not exactly the ‘Broadway power couple’ I envision when I see you walking down the red carpet at events.” Jesse flipped through the pages of the trigonometry book, eyes scanning the content to see if there was even a little bit of something he understood so he could help.

Rachel Berry:

Rachel sighed, looking down at the table as Jesse mentioned Hunter being away for long periods of time out in the middle of the ocean. She really hadn’t taken a moment to sit alone with those thoughts and really assess. She thought being grounded from Hunter was bad, but what about when he was shipped off somewhere and she couldn’t speak to him every single day whenever she pleased? She suddenly felt nauseous.

“M-maybe it’s not ideal. But it’s what he wants...he doesn’t hold me back from what I want.” She was trying to convince herself rather than Jesse. “If...if the Navy is what he wants to do then I can’t stop him.” Rachel trailed off, thinking of the first date she’d gone on with Hunter when they had discussed their lives. “Though...I don’t really think it’s what he wants really. I think his dad is more or less pressuring him into it.” As these thoughts began to nibble at her anxiety ridden brain, she wasn’t so much focused on getting to her homework. Glancing over at Jesse, Rachel shook her head. “Do you know anything about the Navy? Do they, like, go to actual war?” She realized then she had little to no knowledge of any military branch.

Jesse St. James:

Upon hearing that Rachel wasn’t especially supportive of Hunter’s decision to join the Navy, Jesse thought to himself that perhaps he found the fracture in their seemingly perfect relationship. It would be cruel to manipulate Rachel, but honesty was the best policy… Being upfront with her about his opinion of the military wasn’t the wrong thing to do, right? “Oh, I’m pretty sure people in the Navy go to war,” he answered, leaning back in his chair a little. “I mean, I only know from television but there’s a bunch of ships and submarines in the ocean watching the Koreans, right? It’s like, an island, right? So it’s surrounded by water. Isn’t the US. on the brink of a war with them right now?”

He backed off a little when he realized he might be scaring Rachel. “Maybe you can convince him not to join the military. The guy’s in show choir too, right? I mean, there’s no way he can get into NYADA but lots of actors hack it in New York without an education. He could totally get an ensemble role.”

Rachel Berry:

“War?” Rachel asked, looking at Jesse with her forehead wrinkled, the nausea turning her stomach again. “L-like, war?” She shook her head, imagining the worst case scenario. There was a vivid image in her mind of her in New York, alone. And then another of her coming backstage from curtain call of one of her shows to a phone call letting her know that Hunter was dead and never coming back. She took a shaky breath, closing her eyes and shaking her head as she tried to calm the anxiety that was rapidly building in her chest.

“Uh, yeah,” She cleared her through, pressing her lips together as she looked down. “He’s extremely talented. He’s better than me, even. Well...at least just as talented.” Rachel explained, rubbing her hands over her face, taking another breath. “I just don’t…” She tried to get the images out of her head again, sighing. “Maybe...maybe he won’t go. Maybe he’ll change his mind and realize that it’s not his dream and he’ll find something else. Y-yeah...maybe.” Rachel placed her hands down on the table, sitting up a little straighter, visibly uncomfortable, anxious. She didn’t want to think about this anymore, it was scaring her and she didn’t have Hunter there to comfort her and talk it through. She didn’t want to have an anxiety attack in front of Jesse, either, regardless of whether or not he’d seen it before.

Jesse St. James:

Jesse mentally kicked himself when he realized Rachel was on the verge of an anxiety attack, clearly caused by him. “If anyone can convince someone into doing something, it’s you. If he really likes performing as much as either of us you can convince him to do something else with his life. Besides, who goes to college just to waste it in the military? That’s just dumb…” Maybe he would talk to Hunter too; it was the least he could do after making Rachel unnecessarily worry. “I mean, weren’t you just talking about Ohio and Vocal Adrenaline holding me back? Don’t be surprised to run into me this time next year because I am definitely going to New York, too. Even if I have to bus tables while I go to every audition out there, I’m going.”

His tone about New York was much more self-assured than before and it was all thanks to Rachel’s words. She had an innate ability to cheer anyone on, right beside them. Even if Rachel wasn’t actually doing anything, she really was a driving force for Jesse to find his place. He just hoped that when he landed on his own two feet Rachel would be standing right beside him.

Rachel Berry:

Rachel just nodded her head as Jesse tried to talk her down from the looming anxiety attack. “I guess. I...I don’t even really want to think about it anymore.” She tried to get the jarring images to leave her mind as she took a deep breath, appreciating the way Jesse changed the subject.

“Y-yeah...I know you’ll be there. I don’t doubt that.” She looked over to Jesse, placing her hand on his. “That’s why it’s important to me that we all get along. We’re going to be in each other’s professional lives at the very least.” She said, giving him a gentle smile. “It’ll be really nice to have a familiar face to work with, I’m glad it’ll be you. I mean that.”

Jesse St. James:

Jesse nodded a bit when she agreed that they’d all be in New York together. At least while Hunter was in college figuring his future out, Jesse would be the third wheel; he had that much guaranteed for him and he was completely fine playing the slow game. Rachel had almost gone back to him once before, so it was only a matter of time. “Right? The three of us will be bonafide New Yorkers in no-time. Now c’mon, I promised to help you with your math homework so tell me what chapter you’re on and I’ll look up the answers on my phone.”

He was satisfied that he managed to talk her down a bit and she was smiling, so he took it as a good sign. Her worries were obviously still there because a matter like that wasn’t going to be overlooked; Jesse knew her too well to know that he’d inadvertently planted a seed of anxiety somewhere in Rachel’s brain. One thing was certain to him, however: if Hunter was going to commit to the military, things might not work out for him and Rachel. That was the golden opportunity Jesse had been waiting for.

#rachel berry rp #jesse st james rp #st berry rp #glee rp #1x1 rp #paras #para: rachel #rachel

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27emailsicantsend · 5 years

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3x14 and 3x15 Andi Mack scene by scene recap + my unnecessary opinions lol

Forewarning: as from the title these ARE spoilers to the episodes if you haven’t seen it. I’m tagging spoilers out but there’s still a chance they could be seen. Also, I’m giving a scene by scene recap with my opinions of the show. I’ve been requested to do the recap but I also want to talk about what I thought from these episodes in more detail than my post yesterday. So for the most part it’ll be factual but I’m really invested in these two episodes so I’ll definitely be adding my own twang. It’s virtually impossible for me not to recap my own hype for the episodes lol. Hope you’re a Muffy and Tyrus stan bc I’ve got some cOnTeNt for you ❤️

Ok here. we. go.

3x14

Scene starts in the spoon. It’s Andi, Muffy, and Cyrus. Muffy and Cyrus talk about Andi’s parents not getting married while Amber overhears. She gets upset and asks why. Andi clarifies her parents aren’t married, but still together and Amber makes the comment, “unlike my house. My parents are still married but barely together”. Which gets some awks looks from the table. Andi tells them she’s not sad, but angry. Then she says that B&B (Bex and Bowie) said she’s entitled to her feelings to which Cyrus claims as being manipulative?? (Still don’t see how, but he explains that they are playing dodgeball and b&b are on one side and Andi on the other. She has a ball of anger she wants to throw, but they’re ready for it. So if she throws it, they’ll catch it and then she basically can’t show her anger- he’s obviously been listening to his counseling parents hahaha). Andi asks where she can throw her anger ball (lol) so Amber takes her to a sledge hammer place (Rage Cage) where everyone is in individual cages that have old items that you just beat up with a sledge hammer.

*opening song*

Andi is laying on her bed and gets a really excited phone call from CeCe about the wedding to which Andi feels guilty. She tries to tell Bex to tell CeCe it’s cancelled but Bex refuses bc the next day is CeCe’s bday. This scene had some really good acting BTW (I’ll probably tell you when this happens too bc honestly props to the actors. And the cinematography and music in these two episodes is beautiful. Literally made me feel like I was watching a movie).

Buffy runs up to Marty at a bench and he gets a big dimple smile bc why wouldn’t he be excited to see her?? Lol Buffy starts mocking Marty’s shoes because they have toe inserts and that’s when he tells her they are for a marathon. Buffy gets confused (and lowkey upset) she didn’t know about the marathon and Marty is all, “we have a lot of catching up to do” and I’m all (you have a lot of dating to do because my soul has been empty this past season without you. #RIPME 😭 ⚰️). So Buffy gets all flirty competitive and says she wants to race as well. Marty tries to talk her out of it bc he’s worried about an injury, dehydration, etc. but this is Buffy we’re talking about and she insists she can do it and then runs away lol, but Marty can’t help the love he feels for her and smiles sheepishly as he goes to run away with her (very metaphoric. I love)

Jonah and Cyrus are walking and Cyrus invites Jonah to see a meteor shower in his backyard for a campout (good Jyrus moment if you ship that) Jonah makes a lame joke about not having a s’more in awhile and so he has “s’less”- Cyrus tells him not to hurt himself making that joke 😂😂

B&B and Andi are at a restaurant waiting for CeCe & Ham. CeCe shows up and tells everyone Ham went back to India.

Cyrus and Jonah go into a beautifully set up tent where Cyrus obviously had to out-do himself and make everything in the tent extra. I love a gay interior design queen.

Back at the restaurant, CeCe says Ham went to India for rest. CeCe makes some really weird remark about seeing him again (yikes) and the rest make comments about him doing what he needs to do and that they have to accept it and not take each other for granted. Very subtextual of the real situation, but also a great way to write off his character and play into Bex worrying about cancelling the wedding. She showed fear like she wouldn’t want to say anything to CeCe bc he’s gone, but since CeCe was ok with him leaving, Bex calmed down too. Just really well done. CeCe tried to show Bex venue photo’s and Bex tried to stop her but then Bex just says she had a problem mailing the wedding invites *cliff hanger*

Cyrus and Jonah back at the tent. Jonah is panicking about dying in Cyrus’ backyard and Cyrus brings meat into the tent but makes it all flirty and weird- I don’t ship Jyrus but the whole thing lowkey felt like they were trying to impress Jyrus shippers with date vibes haha (also the meat is BAD if you’re camping bc animals can get to you). Then an animal hits their tent at (obviously) the right time

CeCe now knows the wedding is off and is PiSsEd™️. The waiters are all completely unaware and don’t know how to read the room so they bring a sparkler cake. CeCe flips the sparkler upside down, shoves it in the cake, and exits as dramatically as possible. Leaving the mustached waiter with an awkward face like:

Then there was this weird commercial on my app promoting season 2 like bish you already know I watched that season at least twice don’t play me like that

Back to the pointless tent scene (for real- this scene was just filler. You rip off Tyrus FOR THIS? Actual homophobia). Jonah mispronounces some weird thing (and Cyrus says don’t hurt yourself again) and then breaks the tent. Cyrus makes a failed attempt at opening the tent with a cheese knife but Shazam! saves the day by telling Cyrus not to hurt himself and opening the tent with the same cheese knife (honestly, weird flex but ok). They escape and are saved and watch a poorly CGI’d meteor shower like two old men on their front porch. and yippee five minutes of wasted screen time are over. I don’t care if you ship Jyrus. It was a waste of time when we could have been focusing on the TeA of the show. *rant over- no worries. Many more to come*

Back to important matters, Muffy is now running their race. Marty doesn’t want to race. He just wants to finish in under 4 hours and Buffy wants to finish under his time. Buffy agrees with Mr. Party at first, but then hears the word “race” and bolts away like Lightning McQueen.

Bex and Andi back at the house. Bex says it went bad with CeCe bc she won’t even act like Bex exists. Andi realizes her anger and knows where to take her (you guessed it. RAGe CAGe- Andi said it wasn’t for Bex lol so she wouldn’t tell Bex where she was going with CeCe 😂 the shade)

Marty is jogging along like a middle aged white woman and sees Buffy wheezing. He gets all husband like and concerned as he catches her in his arms. (Which reminds me of a pic I saw on Tumblr where they drew her in his arms but laced it with the “Miss Keisha” vine and I was here for it). Then Marty and Buffy put their arms around each other and he escorts her to a bench. (Just saying, everyone knows Tyrus is going to involve a bench scene but as us loyal fans know, Muffy shadows Tyrus and they have also encountered two (2) benches thus far. Coincidence? Maybe. Will I believe it was a coincidence? Absolutely not). Then he puts her on the bench and acts all cute and paramedic and concerned. He’s been taking doc notes at General Hospital obviously. (He even mentions taking her to a doctor). Buffy is all like, “Run your race Marty. 4 1/2 hours. [I’m the supportive girlfriend you hoe].” And he doesn’t want to leave her and she accuses him of being a martyr? Then she snaps at him (like tf) to go away and he gets all angsty™️ and runs off and my heart broke bc I was not ready for a Muffy battle.

Andi and CeCe at the Rage Cage... rage. In a cage.

Marty comes running back to Buffy with a dimple smile again bc he knows she was trying to “White Fang” him from a movie they saw together (❤️). To “White Fang” is for the boy in the movie to send the wolf away, wolf doesn’t want to leave, so the boy throws rocks at him to make him go. Buffy is caught (but she ain’t mad) and I need to quote this part word for word bc it’s TOO CUTE 🥰🥰🥰

B: You’re the one who said we should run our own race

M: That’s what I’m doing

B: Wanna sit here with me?

M: No. I wanna cross the finish line with you 😭😭😭

And that, my friends, was the day my heart ripped in half from joy

Then he picks her up and they put their arms around each other (I seriously can’t. They made me cry last night and lowkey I thought it was bc I was tired but I’m fully energized and watery eyed... sooo....) then Marty makes a joke about them running and Buffy goes, “you’re hilarious” and his voice gets all soft and he looks at her all gentle and goes, “you finally figured that out” AND PLEASE TERRI STOP IT HURTS. But no, the scene CONTINUES BECAUSE MY HEART APPARENTLY COULD TAKE THAT (lies). And the scene changes and now Marty is PIGBACKING HER ACROSS THE FINISH LINE THREE HOURS LATER. LIKE STOP. STOP. I CAN’T HANDLE THESE TENDER MOMENTS. (Seriously they were together an extra three hours with him helping her. I’m WeAk). And they both get medals and Buffy compliments him so he gets all happy and tells her to keep going, but she runs out of compliments so he goes, “ok, I just wanted to see how deep that well went” with his eyes darting all over her face and then the music shifts to almost like progressive-romantic music as BUFFY PUTS HER ARM BACK AROUND HIM AND THEY WALK AWAY (the music was placed so we knew they were having a moment) and that was the exact moment I died. MY PARENTS. (Watched this scene 3 times and will 100% watch it at least 1000 more).

Then Andi sees Amber raging. In a cage. She’s like “excuse me? What are you doing here” and Amber is all mad at Jonah and Andi’s all break up with your boyfriend yeah yeah cuz I’m bored. And Amber wasn’t here for it because apparently she thinks she’s in love with Jonah now? (with tears in her eyes... I mean, love to me isn’t that angry and hating everything he does [he only sent her six emoji’s apparently and just isn’t there for her] that it drives you to physical violence but ok)-(but good acting along with the last Muffy scene but I’m sure ya’ll picked up on that from my synopsis lol)

3x15

FYI this synopsis won’t be AS long, but that’s because Muffy is absent and I have an unexpresible love for them and this episode also sent me over the EDGE with Tyrus 🙄😤🙃 but I’ll do what I can with Tyrus bc it’s still gay and angsty and I was here for that part of it (also I love the Terri devoted two separate episodes to Tyrus and Muffy. Like she really knows this Friendom and what will keep us watching lol)

Unnecessary opening scene with B&B and Andi going to the movie instead of spending time on their phones (it was cute but unnecessary. I liked in the last episode that the rage cage in the beginning scene actually tied into the episode)

*opening credits*

Buffy and Cyrus watching Kira and TJ like hawks from the bench far away and Buffy is confused af about it. She asks Cyrus and he gets all angsty (I WILL over use this word bc it’s too accurate for this episode, wait til you actually see it) and goes “I don’t know” *shoulder shrug* “I haven’t been hanging out with TJ lately”

Buffy: because of that?

Cyrus: they’ve been pretty much attached at the hip (then Kira has the AUDACITY to jump on TJ’s back) and the back. They look happy.

B: it won’t last. Kira’s not a nice person. Only took me a day to figure that out. Since he’s a GUY, it’ll take longer.

Cloud 10 with Bex and Andi discussing Bex and CeCe making up, but in front of CeCe. CeCe is still PiSsEd™️. Bex tries to talk to her and BEGS to make up with her mom but her mom is cold and I felt Bex’s pain. (Great acting in this scene too. I just wanted to hug Bex. Like did you really have to do her a dirty like that? With Tyrus and Bex, this episode is starting to feel like 3x13 again and I thought we all agreed to never speak of that episode ever again)

Cyrus is sitting all angsty and alone with some frozen yogurt in front of a greenhouse? Literally no idea where he is at but it’s such a mood lol and even funnier that TJ found him there. Like where are they?? Hahahaha but ANYWAY, TJ sits down and confronts Cyrus about avoiding him. Cyrus says he isn’t but TJ is like “kinda feels like it”. Cyrus tries to say that TJ has been occupied with Kira taking up his time and TJ denies that hard. And here’s the TEA sis:

Cyrus: you two are clearly hitting it off. Which is great. I’m happy for you guys.

TJ: you make it sound like we’re a couple. We’re not. We mostly just talk about basketball.

C: and then you give her a piggy back ride?

T: she bet me I couldn’t carry her. That was all

Then TJ tried to tell Cyrus to hangout with them more and Cyrus rejects that bc Kira knows Cyrus is Buffy’s best friend. Then Kira comes in to hoe around the scene and sits at the table. Says “heyyyy” all flirty to TJ 😒 and “hi Cyrus” direct and cold to Cyrus. Then becomes the most fake hoeeeee when pretending to agree with TJ that they should hang out more with Cyrus. Cyrus YEETS outta there and Mr. heart eyes looks like he created depression (it was that prevalent). Kira gets all needy and is like, “hellooo? I’m over here” and TJ just looks at her with the fakest angsty smile. Like why.

At the spoon, the GHC AND Jonah are sitting and Andi tells of this store called Mint Chip where they burn clothes rather than donate them bc it would make the brand look bad and lose sales if it’s with charity. Like??? Ok you actually look better with charity sooooo take two steps back B. Buffy gets the taste of wanting to be a bad guy (cue bad guy by Billie Eilish) and they all go dumpster diving and get the clothes from Mint Chip’s dumpster. Not much happens other than them stealing clothes and Buffy says her ankle hurts so she can’t get in the dumpster. IDK if that’s from the dehydration last episode (bc when she’s walking with Marty 😍 she’s limping) or if she fell wrong at the dumpster. It’s foreshadowing bc I know she has a hurt foot in a later episode so not sure where it will come in or why.

The kids have an outdoor “sidewalk sale” where they give away the free clothes from mint chip and some lady comes and gets a coat. She shows up later in the episode to tell Bex and CeCe about the sale but they do nothing. It was really weirdly staged like this character had more importance in the episode and got cut or she has importance later on. IDK? She just got a ton of screen time for it to go nowhere so we’ll see. And Cyrus is a Queen and styled some guy for an interview and Buffy is a Queen and styled a lady for a first online date. Then Jonah is just himself and doesn’t know what a pencil skirt is. *cue clothing sale montage with Jonah being a player and talking to lots of girls and the GHC+Jonah looking all sweet looking at pics from the day*

B&B get a wedding gift from Celia. It’s a snow globe from the night Bowie proposed, but since it’s mailed, was sent before CeCe knew about the cancellation. Bex tries to write her a thank you card but can’t and cries through it (great acting here too- Bex just takes the cake on acting TBH)

At the sale, Cyrus shows Buffy a shirt he wants to give to TJ (which isn’t a hoodie, surprisingly). He takes a pic & sends it to him to ask if he likes it and Buffy says “it’ll look good with his eyes” and Cyrus is all “it WILL 😍”

Buffy: he’s gonna like it. Why don’t you just give it to him?

C: I thought about that. I’m not sure how much he’s want that.

B: a free shirt??

C: ME. Giving him a free shirt.

B: there’s a great way to find out

C: what is it?

B: *forcing the shirt back to Cyrus* give him the shirt. Maybe it’ll mean something to him. Maybe it won’t. Either way, it’s a nice thing to do [seriously though I stan a Tyrus Ally]

C: it’s TJ. Thumbs up on the shirt *replying to Teej lol* you should come by the sale. It’s amazing. *back to the Vampire Slayer* was that too braggy?

B: not braggy enough

C: TJ *reading the message* I’m at the park *back to Buffy* what do you think that means?

B: he wants you to meet him?

C: you think

B: why else would he tell you where he is?

C: should I bring the shirt? I’m gonna being the shirt. *walks away and comes back* the shirt feels weird

B: then don’t take it

C: *walks away and comes back*

B: *whilst saying nothing hands Cyrus the shirt with a loving, yet so over Cyrus’ gay angst expression*

C: he’s gonna be expecting it... so I’m just gonna- yeah *yeets out of there in gay*

Kira and TJ at the park. Kira asks who TJ is texting and he says no one 😤 so TJ suggests feeding the ducks and Kira decides to hoe around yet again and suggests swinging first. She’s all flirty and TJ is ~not straight and not here for it~. He’s all like “I’m not five” like he doesn’t go swinging and Kira gets all competitive over who can swing higher and makes comments reflecting his and Cyrus’ convo which gets him to get on the swing (reluctantly) and also she is on Cyrus’ swing?? So umm? Get tf off???? And that’s when Cyrus pops around a tree, shirt in hand, to see THAT DISGUSTING MOCKERY OF A FRIENDSHIP I HATE IT SO MUCH??? EWWWW. And he’s all sad and angsty and jealous so he walks away **AND AS HE’S WALKING AWAY DOES A LOOK BACK SOOOOOOOOOO HE IS FOR SURE IN LOVE FREAKING HECK I CAN’T** and I just want to hug my boi and I can’t hug him and ugh 😭😭😭 my sad tears are here.

So Cyrus sees Buffy and tells her TJ was with Kira so that makes Buffy all annoyed (she’s a real one). Cyrus becomes a liar and says they’re “good together” again. Buffy tries to reassure him it won’t last, but Cyrus isn’t sure and now has this shirt he doesn’t know what to do with. He gives it to Jonah and says he has nice eyes too??? Like umm? Rebound much, Cyrus?? Like Boo. Don’t do that. I’m here for YOU. Jonah then tells some woman about how they pulled off the clothing shop and a police officer shows up. They don’t have a license to sell and never bought the clothing so they can’t give it for free. Next thing you know Bex is getting a call (after trying to make things right with CeCe AGAIN and more A+ acting.. seriously though freaking FORGIVE HER ALREADY SHE IS DOING EVERYTHING SHE CAN) and runs with CeCe to go help bail the GHC+Jonah out of jail (this was also after the woman in the coat makes a 2 second appearance at cloud 10 to talk about the sale and NOTHING HAPPENS WITH HER SO WHY). The scene ends with the cell door closing so I hope next episode maybe this scare freaks CeCe enough into making up with Bex. But IDK.

I��ve got many mixed feelings about these episodes. Hope you enjoyed my highly detailed and opinionated synopsis of the show 😂😂 can’t wait for next week!! ❤️

#andi mack #am spoilers #andi mack spoilers #tyrus #muffy #epidode recap #buffy driscoll #marty from the party #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #sophia wylie #luke mullen #garren lake #joshua rush #bexie #cece mack #bex mack

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