#i just saw the sweater in the trash and it makes me sad

[unforth]

😔

I can't even tell you how excited she was when she bought this sweater

and now it's in the garbage.

Hey J. K. Rowling? Fuck you.

[sucker4colby]

Parties over: Part 2

Summary : Colby’s in the doghouse after forgetting his girlfriends birthday to hang out with amber. He has to knock down the wall she built around herself.

Warning : angst , jealousy , insecurity, cussing

Pairing: Colby Brock x female reader

Part 1

It took me a moment to be able to tear my gaze away from my reflection and to stop criticizing everything I saw. I had to accept today was going to be one of those where I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin so I just made my way downstairs after changing into shorts and a knitted sweater hoping I wouldn’t see the blue eyed boy I was upset with.

Unfortunately for me he sat at the island eating a bowl of cereal in his own world as our friends did their own thing around him. I noticed how his hair was unruly and he looked tired as If he didn’t sleep last night. My eyes snapped away from him as Sam called out my name. “ there’s breakfast over on the counter if you want some.” The blonde boy pointed over his shoulder at the counter where a stack of waffles resided. I could see Colby’s head snap up from the corner of my eyes to look at me as his friend announced my presence but I avoided looking at him knowing I’d break on the spot to look at him. I smiled at Sam muttering a thank you as I made my way over to the food.

I heard his chair scrape against the floor as he hurriedly walked over to me stopping me from taking a plate . “ I can get your food.” Colby offered grabbing the plate I was reaching for looking down at me. Anger bubbled up inside of me and I glared at him. “ I’m not hungry anymore thanks.” I spat spinning on my heels and walking away from the prying eyes of our friends. He was just going to act like he didn’t blow me off on my birthday to be with another woman and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let that slide.

I might overreacted but If I wasn’t important enough why did he keep the act up, why not just rip the bandage off and break up with me. I sighed walking into the living room to see the mess from last night, cups ,trash bottles of liquor littered every surface. Grabbing a trash bag from the cabinet I began picking up hoping to get a head start before everyone came to help out.

I know he was standing there trying to figure out how to approach me but I couldn’t bring myself to ask him what he needed so I just pretended he wasn’t there. It was a difficult task to do when his blue eyes felt like they were burning a hole in my skin, I could see the distraught look on his face and it hurt my heart but he was the one who messed up.

Finally he cleared his throat to announce his presence as if I didn’t already know, it was hard not know when you’ve memorized the sound of his footsteps and when his presence filled up the whole room. I looked up to meet his sad eyes quirking an eyebrow up at him. “ I have something for you.” He told me in a small voice and brought his hands out in front of him presenting a small black box. I could see him deflect more as he noticed I wasn’t changing my stoic composure towards him. “ I also ordered you a cake from that bakery you like, I know you wanted one of those for your birthday.” He rambled only making me more upset. I hated that I couldn’t stay angry at him, was I really that smitten over him that I’d roll over and act like nothing happened just because it was him.

“ yeah for my birthday Colby.. which was yesterday had you of cared enough you would’ve remembered but how could you ? You were a bit …preoccupied.” I spat out the last word throwing the trash bag on the couch moving past him to go cool off in my room.

I threw myself on the bed and cried wishing my comforter would just hide me away from everything. He was probably trying to be nice so he wouldn’t feel bad once he left me for amber. My chest burned with jealousy at the thought of him doing everything I wanted of him for her, why wasn’t I good enough for him, He was everything for me and maybe that was the problem. I had to make it easier on both of us and end things myself because I know he wouldn’t do it.

I didn’t hear my door open or close but I noticed my bed dip making me wipe my eyes and look out from under cover. I cried even harder once I saw Colby sitting next me. He had tears in his eyes as well as he moved to put me on his lap, I didn’t try to fight him because this is probably the last time I’ll get to be in his arms. I wanted to memorize everything about him before I lost him.

“Baby I’m so sorry, I was a dumbass, I promise I didn’t mean to forget I just had to much on my plate and I got my days mixed up.” He sniffled setting his cheek on my head and caressing my leg knowing that calmed me down. “Do you not love me anymore?" I asked looking down at my lap picking at the loose thread on my knitted sweater. I felt like I could throw up waiting for him to answer me. "What ?" He asked me I could feel the bed shift under his weight as he turned to face me.

My face heated up at having to repeat my previous statement. I was embarrassed I had to ask him if he still loved me , if he did I wouldn't have to ask and save myself the heartache. " if you don't that's ok, i just.. I feel like I should know if you don't love me anymore, no one should be in a relationship without love." I mumbled my voice cracking as I tried to stop myself from crying even more. I could feel the tears pooling at my waterline even more as I tried to stop myself causing me to grow frustrated with myself . I put my hands over my face shielding my face from his view as my body shook after each sob.

“ baby I love you so much it hurts, I’m so sorry I made you feel like this. I’m sorry I made you doubt my love for you.” He whimpered rocking us back and forth holding me tighter to his body. “ I love you so so much, I was looking forward to yesterdays date because that’s the day my love was born, I should’ve been here but I promise I’ll make it up to you now.” He whispered kissing the crown of my head and I wrapped my arms around him. My heart softening “ I could never love anyone the way I love you, I can’t imagine getting so excited to come home to someone that isn’t you, you’re my favorite part of everyday and I don’t ever want to lose that.” His words slowly eased my worries.

I felt horrible because Colby wasn’t a bad person and he’d never intentionally hurt someone. I was so insecure I forgot how kind hearted and pure he was, That’s why I fell in love with him in the first place. I was caught up in my head I almost him because I was being childish. “ I’m sorry, I overreacted.” I hiccuped into his neck as I hugged him close to my body. He let out a small laugh rubbing circles on my back under my sweater. “ I think you under-reacted, I thought I was done for.” He told me causing me to giggle. “ I’m really sorry baby I know you were looking forward to your birthday.” He apologized again leaning back to look at me. I sat back on his lap to look at him. “ I just wanted to be with you, but you’re here now and that’s all I care about.” I told him making sure he knew I just wanted him.

He smiled and placed a kiss on my lips causing a smile to grow on my face. “ that one’s because I’m sorry and these are because you turned 23.” He said before attacking my face with kisses causing me to laugh as he counted each kiss. He let out a quick oh reaching over the bed to retrieve the same black box he had shown me earlier passing it over to me. I shot him a questioning look taking the small box and opening it. My eyes started watering again and I let out a small gasp at the small necklace that rested inside. “ I chose this out a while back and I wanted something you could wear everyday.” He explained taking it out of my hands and moving my hair to the side, I moved on his lap so he could clip it on. “ thank you, I love it.” I told him as he placed a delicate kiss on my expose shoulder where my sweater started slipping off. “ I love you .” He mumbled wrapping his arms around my again pulling my into his chest. I exhaled in relief leaning back and taking comfort in his warmth knowing we’d be ok, I had fallen in love with the sweetest soul and as perfect as he was he was only human, he was bound to make mistakes.

—————

Part 2 guys !!!

I hope you enjoyed it. I almost made them break up but I just couldn’t bring myself to make Colby the bad guy 🥲

Let me know what you guys think !!!

[maxxix66]

Dumb Ghost(part two)

“Now I’m falling asleep, and she’s calling a cab”

Warnings: Fluffy angst, implied attachment issues and separation anxiety, light grinding(but in the not sexy way). This is somewhat about aftercare, so there may be some mentions of sexuality. Obviously blood and mentions of murder

POV: Second Person

Request: @transparent-stranger-bouquet

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff

‼️SCREAM 5 SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT‼️

You rub your wrists to relieve some of the tension, while Tara wiped the blood and your own juices off of you with a warm, damp towel. You squeezed your legs together when she was finished, as you felt completely exposed now. She pat you on the face with the towel, the piece of cloth pulling the blood off of you. When she was finished, Tara tossed the towel to the floor and threw a sweater and some shorts at you.

“Here. Put these on. I trashed your old clothes and I’m gonna trash that towel. We can’t have anyone knowing you’re a killer, can we?” You shook your head. “No. That would be very unwanted knowledge.”

You slid the shorts up your legs, the sweater already on. “After all, I can’t let anyone know that I’m not my persona.”

As soon as you sat up, Tara dove onto her bed, landing on you. You tumbled over once more, holding Tara in your arms. She kissed you on the neck softly.

“Baby, you’re a horrible person.” She planted another soft kiss on your cheek this time.

You stretched, and stood up. “I’m gonna grab something to drink, then I’ve gotta get going.”

Tara grabbed onto your - well, her - sweater, and pulled on it. “Don’t leave me.”

You sighed, and pulled away. “How about I get a drink and stay for a bit?”

She nodded eagerly, and watched as you left the room, her body going cold.

You yawned, your lower body still being weak. You opened Tara’s fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. Despite the fact that you knew Tara was yearning for your touch, you just wanted to go home. She seemed pissed at you. Maybe murder wasn’t for you, but either way, you couldn’t stop now that you’ve started. You scratch your neck and take a sip, then walk back to Tara’s room.

For a moment you saw a glint of sadness in her eye. But as quick as you saw it; it was gone, replaced with her angry expression. You go over and sit beside her, and she pulls you into a hug and continues to make a tight embrace on you. She moves her hips against you, and kisses your collar bone. You sigh at the feeling of warmth, melting into her touch. You set your water on her nightstand, and roll both of you over. You stare down at her, and she grabs onto you.

“Tara, I need to go home. Let go.”

She shakes her head, holding tighter. You try to shake her off, but she holds even tighter.

“Please don’t go. You told me there’s two other killers. They are on your side. I’m scared of what’ll happen if you leave.”

You look down at her, feeling pity. “I hate that I have to go, Tara, but if I’m not home soon, my parents will call the cops.”

She nodded, and let you go. You grabbed your knife, shoving it in the pocket of her shorts, and slipped your shoes on. You ran down the stairs, and were close to the door before you heard one desperate word.

“Wait!”

You turned, seeing Tara chasing you down, before she jumped into your arms. You swear you saw tears, but she hid her face in your chest before you could actually tell if she was crying or not.

“I know I was mad, (Y/N). But I don’t want to be alone. Please, don’t leave me, I love you…”

You felt a piercing sting through your heart, but knew you had to go. “Tara. I love you too, but for the love of God, please let me go home.”

She whined into you, holding you tighter. You sighed, and pulled her back to her bedroom.

“You are the bane of my existence, my love.”

[lemony-snickers]

@justmyownreality - ficti-gram for you!

to: @justmyownreality from: @nightingaleflow message: I love Jmor, she's always been warm and welcoming to me, especially when getting involved in the OC side of things. I want to make her smile. <3 characters/pairing: naruto uzumaki/fem!oc word count: 1517 prompt: decorating a cake

A growl to rival Bull's reverberated through the kitchen. Had anyone else been present, they might have worried an attack from a mighty ninken were imminent.

It was only Rukia, of course, custard smeared across one cheek and end of her green sweater sleeve stained purple. She frowned at the monstrosity before her, teeth grinding together as she tried to hold herself back from obliterating it with the strongest jutsu she could muster.

Cooking hadn't always been a success for Rukia. She shivered as she recalled dismally the time she'd somehow managed to burn broccoli which remained mysteriously frozen inside. But this, she had thought possible. This, she had thought a genius kunoichi could handle.

It was only a birthday cake. From a box! And as she stared at the leaning tower of cake before her, the strawberries she'd so carefully sliced in half threatening to slide off one edge, Rukia was grateful, at least, that the batter had tasted okay when she hazarded a quick lick of her mixing spoon before she put it in the oven.

A quick glance at the clock over the stove only increased her despair. Naruto would be home any minute, and her attempt at creating a birthday cake worthy of the future Hokage. She tilted her head, again rather like one of her hound summons, but even changing her perspective did nothing to improve the cake's appearance.

The strawberries were fine, even if they were sliding off one side where the cake sagged dangerously, but the Uzumaki spirals she had attempted to recreate in purple icing had bled into the white buttercream, making an oozy, bruised-looking mess.

Perhaps the cake had still been too warm? In her defense, Rukia had been delayed in her return to Konoha from her last mission, so rather than having two days to bake and decorate Naruto's birthday cake, she'd had a measley four hours.

Still, her heart sank as the frosting continued to slip off the cake, and one of the strawberry halves made a sad plopping noise as it landed unceremoniously on the counter.

"Shikamaru was right," she grumbled, "I should have just bought something."

But making Naruto a cake with her own hands seemed like a better way to show him how much she loved and cared for him. She knew his birthday was sometimes a hard day, and Rukia had wanted nothing more than to make him smile that blinding, too-wide, closed-eye smile when he looked upon her homemade creation.

It helped that her birthday was so close to his; she saw this cake as a way for them to celebrate together, especially since she'd been half a world away when her own had passed. She had painstakingly chosen the green tea custard and strawberries to go with the vanilla cake and buttercream, and had thought buying the frosting pre-made and using a boxed cake mix would negate any chance she could possibly ruin it.

As another strawberry tumbled off the rim of the round confection, Rukia's head dropped in defeat.

"What a mess." And not only the cake, either. Somehow, the entire kitchen seemed to have exploded with green tea custard and strawberry juice, the pale green and vibrant red clashing harshly with the purple she'd chosen for her decorative Uzumaki swirls, which now appeared as sad-looking blobs.

Perhaps interior decorating would never be her strong suit; the more she stared at the colors in combination, the more they made her eyes hurt.

Rukia was just contemplating whether she should throw the whole thing in the trash when she heard the unmistakably loud foosteps of Naruto Uzumaki approach the door. How he managed to be so stealthy in the field when it was required, and yet never seemed at all capable of quieting his footsteps in Konoha, astounded her.

Panic flared in Rukia's chest and she scrambled to try and bring some semblance of order back to the kitchen. It was a futile endeavor, though, and the door swung open before she'd even managed to get the custard off her cheek.

Naruto's blue eyes stared at her as he took in the scene, his mouth turning down in an adorable frown as he worked to figure out what exactly was happening.

"H-happy... err, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" she shouted, her voice nearly as loud as Naruto's. Rukia tried to smile through her embarrassment, but it looked more like a wince than anything.

She ought to have known that Naruto's reaction would be the same whether she handed him a bowl filled with vaguely cake-flavored soup or created a fifteen-tier replica of the Hokage Tower out of fondant and spun sugar.

"Rukia!" he bellowed, barelling toward her with that smile she'd so wanted to see before he pulled her into what would have been a bone-crushing hug for anyone half as strong as she was.

All Rukia's anxiety about the appearance of the cake melted away--much like the frosting, though she pushed the thought down--as she returned Naruto's hug and his smile in full force.

Naruto didn't let her go, but relaxed his grip a little so he could look at her offering. "It looks so good!" he shouted, nothing in his expression appearing anything but genuine.

Rukia blushed, her cheeks matching her crimson eyes for a moment as she cleared her throat to reclaim some dignity. "I'm glad you like it," she said, rather than allow any of the self-deprecating comments swirling through her mind to make their way out of her mouth.

Naruto liked it. That's all that mattered.

"I can't believe you did all this for me," Naruto whispered. Or, well, as close to whispering as Naruto tended to get.

Rukia rolled her eyes and extricated herself reluctantly from his hold. "I'd do anything for you," she said, staring intently at the cake as she cut him a slice because she knew if she met his gaze she'd blush again, "and everyone deserves somthing nice for their birthday."

She handed him a plate with a generous helping on it, trying not to focus on the way it slowly sagged to one side, buttercream dripping onto the handle of the spoon.

Naruto beamed, swiping it from her grasp and ignoring the glob of frosting on his utensil as he happily used it to pop the first bite into his mouth.

Rukia held her breath tightly between her ribs as she waited for his reaction. And Naruto, who always found it so easy to show his emotions, did not disappoint. His eyes rolled and his knees buckled a little as he moaned around his spoon.

"Rukia," he said, mouth full as he stuffed another bite in, "this is incredible! You should be a professional baker!"

She smiled, even if she thought he was being a little overwrought in his praises, and sliced a piece for herself.

When she took her first bite, Rukia had to admit it wasn't half bad. At least, the flavors were good, even if the texture and appearance could really benefit from some alterations.

"Ah!" she glanced up to find Naruto squinting at the cake as he cut himself another slice. His glance cut over to her, sparkling, as he asked, "Are these Uzumaki symbols?"

Rukia couldn't hold back her smile, and she was afraid if she spoke she might actually cry, so instead she just nodded.

Naruto's grin pulled, somehow, impossibly, wider, as he enjoyed his second slice.

They both ate their cake in comfortable silence for several long moments before Naruto gasped and Rukia nearly dropped her plate in surprise at its volume.

"But your birthday just passed!" he cried, "And I didn't do anything for you!"

Rukia chuckled. "Well, I was on a mission, so it would have been pretty difficult for you to do someth--"

"THAT'S NO EXCUSE!" Naruto decided, abandoning his half-eaten cake to the counter as he rustled through the cabinets in his kitchen. "A-ha!"

He turned toward her, holding two packets of instant ramen in his hands. "I'm going to make you the best ramen you ever had in your life!" he promised. Then, "Well, except for at Ichiraku. I don't think anyone can make ramen that good."

Rukia laughed again, setting her empty plate aside. "You really don't have to, Naruto."

He grinned that too-wide grin she loved so much. "I know, but I want to."

It was Rukia's turn to gasp when he leaned down and licked the custard from her cheek without so much as missing a beat. She felt herself flush crimson again, though Naruto hardly seemed to notice as he turned to the stove and began preparing his culinary masterpiece, as he was now calling it.

Rukia leaned against the counter, ignoring the frosting her pinky slipped into. She'd clean the mess up later. For now, all she wanted was to enjoy Naruto's happy chatter as he filled her in on all the things she'd missed while she was away and made her the best bowl of ramen she'd ever have.

Even better than Ichiraku, she knew because Naruto had made it for her.

[pbandjesse]

No word on the house yet. And I feel kind of sad over the prospect of not getting it. But also I do know that if we don't get it, it just means it wasn't the right one. I believe that. But I also am a little impatient and want to know now so I can feel secure either way. Either in the loss of it , or in moving forward with the next steps. It's crazy how quickly this has all been happening but also like. I'm trying not to make it my whole personality. So instead Ill focus on how much I hate day lights savings.

Because it messed me up so bad today!! I didn't sleep to bad but the air was dry and gave me a painful nose and throat. So when I woke up at 9 and was just dillerious and groggy I was just so confused at why I was having such a bad time. I got up to put some water in my nose before I laid back down for a bit. Which is when I saw a text from James that it was day lights savings. And everything made sense. I slept until essentially 1030am. Which means I slept for almost 11 hours. I hate day lights savings.

I would lay in bed for a few more minutes. Until I didn't feel so weird. Then I would get up and get dressed and felt alright.

I had toast for breakfast. From the fancy bread and it was very nice. I was a little frustrated when I knocked over a bottle in the fridge and it fell and hit the top of my foot and I was just overly sensitive today.

I was having a tough morning. I wanted to clean and purge and work on cleaning but I was overwhelmed by basically everything. I tried talking to James but they weren't answering me. And Jess was helping but I was still having a hard time.

I did shake the carpets out. And I worked on cleaning the frog tank a bit. But I really needed to get some fish to come in and help. That would be a goal for later.

I would start to focus on my desk. I was still overly upset and having a tough time but at least I had one thing to focus on. And it was going pretty well until I cut myself on a blade in my one drawer. So after crying for a minute and talking to James, who was finally answering me, I went back to trying to sort and get rid of trash. I did my best.

At 1130 I went and had some Mac and cheese for lunch. I realized how warm it was outside so I went to put a Tshirt on instead of the sweater I had been wearing.

And then it was time to go! My big outting! I was excited. Even if I was still not feeling my best. I was trying to be positive.

I did forget where I was going though and started driving to camp. Oops. Had to get off the highway and then turn around. Added 10 minutes to my drive. But that was fine.

I got to Irvine around 1230. And I was so thrilled. What a beautiful place. I'm shocked I've never been there. It's so nice! The woman at the gate was so nice. And then the girl at the desk was super nice and welcoming too. I chatted with her about working at camp and why I was there and she was so excited that I came. And that was my experience all day. People just really excited that I was there and that felt so nice.

The walk to their Native American site is about 15 minutes from the welcome center. And it was a really nice walk. I did get a little turned around but only a little bit. I got to see their averay where they had falcons and turkey vultures and it was neat to see them so close up. And the grounds itself was beautiful. The pollinator pasture was this giant idyllic meadow that I'm sure is wild to see when it's in full bloom in the spring. The native grasses were beautiful but when it's flowering I'm sure it's crazy.

And then I was at the site! It was so cool! They had a long house and two wigwams. And a bunch of different stations. And I felt super welcomed, with a staff member calling over to me to say hello.

I got to learn so much. Before Heather and Sofie came l I got to learn how to make a braid using a single piece of buckskin cord. Which I want to practice because it was so cool. I loved talking to all the staff and I even got to give out my business card and make connections.

Heather and Sofie came while I was sitting on the ground helping to take the fur off of a deer pelt. And we would go around to the other displays. We got to learn about basket making and foods. And we talked to everyone. About their program, about ours, about building out workshops and trying to get more adults out to different programs. Which I think would be an amazing way to get more people involved. Something I can for sure lead the charge on figure out programing for.

After going in all the structures and taking pictures and discussing what we could do to make our spaces better, Heather and Sophie headed out.

But I stayed. I got to process a piece of dogs bane and create some cordage. I had a lovely time talking to the staff. And I just had some lovely conversations with the people there. Including a really nice guy who works for gunpowder state park but he is leaving there to go be a tree doctor and when I saw him in the parking lot I wished him luck in his new job and he got a big smile. It was very sweet.

At the food display I got to try eating sumac. Not to be confused with poison sumac. It was fuzzy and pink and sour. I liked it! She said it could be used like a citrus and that is very neat. She was also just really sweet and we talked about creating natural dye and she would love to come out to camp sometime. I would love to have some of the Irvine staff come out for a professional feildtrip tour. I hope that we can bring them out.

My throat was starting to hurt really bad again and I had left my water in the car so I decided it was time to make the walk back.

And it was a nice walk. I stopped to sit at the gazebo while I caught my breath. My throat was really hurting me. But I would only be sitting for a few minutes. I stopped to see the birds again. And then went to the welcome center to use the bathroom and look at their displays there. I had another really nice talk to the girl at the desk. Thanked her for having me. And then headed out.

I was only a few minutes away from a Petco. My goal was to go find a new loach to try to deal with the snails. And then if I could find a joann's I would go get new yarn. And I was like wildly lucky that there was a Joanns literally next to the Petco. Amazing. I was very excited.

I ended up getting a different type of loach called a hillstream, or a butterfly, loach. I named it flapjack and I think he's so cute. I'm not sure he's going to get rid of the living snails but I think he's going to eat the eggs. Fingers crossed because I like him a lot he's like a little stingray and I love stingrays.

I would go and find my yarn next. The cashier was fascinated by my new flat fish. I got three skiens of yarn, on sale. And then I went home.

When I got back here I got my fish set up. I think he's going to do well. I hope. Introducing someone new is always hard. Omelet seems interested and also confused. But I'm not to worried. They should be community tank members.

I would cuddle up on the couch until James got home. I was happy to see them. They got right into cleaning. I would give myself until 530. And then I got up and continued to clean in the studio.

I did not get rid of as much as I wanted to but I'm making progress. My desk is much cleaner. I also went through ally thread and sewing stuff and it's so much neater and I'm really pleased.

I would work on my organizing for the next couple hours. James was doing laundry and making bread while they worked on their own organization. Helping me when things were to tall. I appreciate my tall husband. Love them so much.

Eventually James would make me veggie nuggets for dinner and I would go wash my hair. And that's where we are now. Just resting. James will go put the dough for their bread in the fridge soon. I hope it comes out good. It smells nice already.

Tomorrow we are going to a professional event at the art museum and I have my injections later on in the day. It always seems to sneak up on me. The months go so fast.

I hope I sleep well. I hope you do too. Sleep well everyone. Goodnight!

[chanstopher]

9 YEAR OLD DREAMY WAS IN LOVE WITH GRAYSON??? i actually almost choked on air reading that because when i was 8-10 i had a phat crush on robin/dick from young justice season 1; this is so funny skdjfhj i think there's been a variety of fandoms i've been in but the dc + marvel ones were the longest. i also loved littlest petshop, gen rex, ben 10 etc. but my iron man craze was literally the worst. can you believe that i had all 44 iron mans (the designs) memorized by name when i was 12? it's absolutely mindblowing thinking of that for me, i can barely remember my friends' names now djdjfkfj also hiii hope you are having a lovely day today ❣️ the flamin' hot cheeto look was a really fun one, if i'm being honest and yes! changbin looks so nice with light hair... my favourite binnie remains go-saeng era bin though, the ash blue/grey hair and slight mullet suited him a lot! i personally love natural hair on everyone but my preferred hair colour has always been a deep purple, like the one minho had a while back! whenever any of my biases get the grape hair is when i think they look the prettiest⏤my favourite gem is amethyst and that shade reminds me of the geode a lot, especially once it starts fading towards the pastels, it's like it's fading from the crystals to the chalcedony :D others i love are silver/lychee hair, blueberry hair, peach hair etc. hehe oh you're so cute :c i am more of a person whose love language is acts of service + gift giving so i often end up remembering the most absolutely trivial things concerning my friends, which has extended to my biases jfkjkgjd a few things i associate with them is: the stars (cliche but i once heard someone say to another person that their freckles were like specks of stardust & constellations in the night sky somewhere and that stuck with me for felix once i saw him after that!), guitars, berries, bandaids, skateboards, cooking/baking, cats, trace chain necklaces, sweaters, garlic (LOL) and little envelopes! soem of these are things i've seen them with and the others are like. this will sounds so weird but what i smell/taste/feel/picture when i think of them? it only happens with a few people though and the funniest thing is my ult isn't one of them KLDJDSJ but yeah jeongin is the one with which it does happen! what's your favourite food? and what is some fun activity you'd like to try out with chan if you had the chance to? - 🌨

hi my love! sorry im always so swamped during the weekends im like brain dead lmao

omg young justice was SO good the fact that it got cancelled was such a crushing part of my childhood, it was so perfect but just cause girls liked it they trashed it :( i fully support u memorizing all of iron mans suits, i always go into fandoms like that lmao if i really like something i was to be an encyclopedia of knowledge on it. i used to be that way about lord of the rings but a lot of that info has absolutely leaked out of my brain since i was a kid so now it just pops up randomly and im like how do i know this still???

purple is ALWAYS such a good color, its so sad to me that chris had purple hair for liek a week because its always SUCH a pretty color and i agree it was ESPECIALLY amazing on minho for maniac era, it really suited him! i do wish minho got to have more hairstyles, i feel like he either gets a coconut or coconut but you can see his forehead lol and i think he could pull off anything so i always wonder why they dont really do anything else most of the time.

omg i love remembering little insignificant facts about ppl, i always find that those are the things that make people feel so loved. the amount of times ive gotten something or mentioned something to my best friend that i know she likes it always surprises her cause she doesnt even remember telling me the fact, but im like its about you so it was important to me to remember. I also love gift giving for that reason, cause im not someone to do something super big or elaborate, but i'll get a couple tiny things that i know mean something to someone or that really remind me of them and it always feels nice, like im sharing a piece of how i see them with them.

my favorite food is easily tacos lol i love tacos so much that my best friend has a taco tattoo for me! and i like all kinds of tacos from the garbage taco bell ones to really good authentic street tacos, just something about them i find really comforting I don't know lol but yeah theyre definitely my favorite.

oh god this is massively cheesy but if i could literally do anything with chris it would to be to drive to the middle of nowhere and go stargazing. like just forget everything else and just tell each other stories about the constellations with nothing else around to bother us. i think that would be the most ideal thing to me.

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Monday

Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Pairing: SBI x sister!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: swearing, toxic friends, panic spirals/attacks, injury, taking pills for pain

Summary: you have a very bad week, how will you manage? (Characters are fully human, but based on their DSMP characters. High school AU)

Word count: 4,818

(A/N): I’ve never played volleyball or watched Haikyuu before, so I’m not 100% certain how games work. Also, I probs should’ve split this into two parts, but eh.

“(Y/n) love, you look homeless in that sweater, it’s literally so fucking ugly.”

“Haha, yeah it is. I guess I just wasn’t really trying today.”

Adrian snorted, scanning your body with his cold eyes. “Today? You don’t try at all. You always look like trash.”

“More than trash, you always look like you just rolled in dog shit.” Sammy threw her head back and cackled at her own joke.

Your friends around you erupted in laughter as you four walked down the hallways of the hell that was your public high school. You awkwardly chuckled alongside them, you didn’t really find it funny, but you didn’t want to draw more attention towards yourself. 

“Seriously, (y/n), I really don’t know why we still hang out around you anymore. You really let yourself go.”

“Yeah, now that I think about it, you did gain like five pounds in the past week.”

“Really not a good look on you, love. Then again, nothing you do can make you look good anymore.”

You tried to not let their comments get to you, you really did, but sometimes their comments just rooted themselves deep into your subconscious. You didn’t try looking good anymore, you couldn’t wear anything without them criticising it. You could never win. 

“Awe,” Adrien poked your cheeks, “stop looking so sad. We’re just trying to give you advice. You really need it.”

“Yeah, (y/n). You’re so sensitive, get a grip.”

“Guys look, I think she’s gonna cry!” 

You wiped at your welling eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. “I’m not. I just got allergies.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. Anyways, what are our plans for Halloween? We should totally dress up like sexy angels! I think that’d be so cool. Like, Clint’s party won’t be ready for us.”

“Oh, about that Annie…”

“God, what now (y/n)?”

“I was actually planning on spending Halloween night taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating with my brothers and dad. I won’t be able to go with you guys, I’m sorry.”

The group groaned loudly. “C’mon (y/n), you never hang out with us anymore.”

“Oh my god (y/n) you still go trick-or-treating? We’re juniors.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy with my AP classes and studying for the SAT. My team captain’s really been pushing the team hard with volleyball practice. State finals are soon and we want first this year.”

“No matter how much studying you do, you’re gonna fail. You’re stupid, so why try? Just give up and hang out with uuussss.”

“Yeah (y/n),” Adrien looked at you suspiciously, “you’ve been ignoring us lately. I thought we were friends. Do you even wanna be friends anymore?”

You felt a flare of panic flare up in your gut. “I do! I-I just have so much going on right now. It’s starting to get hard to juggle everything.”

“We’re starting to think that you don’t like us anymore, we want our (y/n) back!” Sammy whined. The others agreed with her, making you feel guilty. You were ignoring them, it was selfish in your opinion. You supposed that you could skip out on taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating, there’ll be other years you could take them. 

“I guess I can take Tommy and Tubbo another year. They’d just have to go without me this year.”

They cheered, giving you praise. You beamed at that, they seemed down lately and you loved it when they’d give you compliments. They didn’t do that much, so that made their praise more special to you. You strived to get compliments.

You four went off to your separate first classes for the day. Yours was statistics, a class you’ve been struggling in lately. You didn’t know anybody in there except for your oldest brother Techno, so you tried to stick with him. Unfortunately, the teacher’s seating chart placed you both on opposite ends of the room, probably because of your last names indicating that you’re siblings. You placed your stuff down on the table and plopped down into your seat, already drained. You had a long day ahead of you; you had a major AP world history test in your next class, you had to give a presentation in your AP english class that was worth a quarter of your final grade, and you had a semifinals volleyball match that would last until late in the night. If your team won, you would be going to state finals, so it was a lot of pressure on your shoulders. You were the main setter, so you had to really focus tonight if you were going to score your team points. 

“Alright class, pull out your homework!”

Fuck, you had homework? You looked in your folder, only to see the unfinished sheet full of equations you didn’t understand staring back at you tauntingly. Mr. Mullins walked over to your desk, took one look at your blank homework, and just walked right past you. Another big fat zero in the gradebook for you, just what you needed. At least he wasn’t in the mood to berate you today. You didn’t need any more stress piled onto your shoulders. 

The lesson felt like it dragged on forever with you frantically trying to copy down the notes on the board and trying to understand the content at the same time. Overtime, he would call students up to the board. Hopefully, he would skip over you today. “Ms. Minecraft.” Goddamn it, you spoke too soon.

Your head perked up and you looked at him. “Yes sir?”

“Come up to the board and solve this.”

Gulping, you felt panic rise up in you and stood up with shaky knees. On the board was part of the newer content he was just teaching. Something that you understood only a little bit better than the rest, and that’s not saying much. You still didn’t understand the content completely. Your writing was shaky as you wrote what you thought was right on the board. Finding the answer, you circled it and looked at Mr. Mullins. He looked disappointed. 

“That’s wrong, Ms. Minecraft. Please sit down.”

You felt like your face was on fire as you saw the entire class burning holes into you with their eyes. Though they looked dead inside, as per usual with any morning class full of tired teenagers, their effects still took hold on you. You wanted to crawl into a dark hole and die. You sat back down and stared at your note packet, you couldn’t focus on the lecture anymore. Your attention was fully on your surroundings, you were hyper aware of every little whisper and bouncing leg in your peripheral vision. You could feel yourself spiraling, usually that wouldn’t happen until after your third class. Today was going to be rough. 

The loud chime of the bell startled you out of your thoughts. You shakily put your papers back into your binder and put the binder back into your backpack. Right as you were about to walk through the door, you heard Techno catch up to you. “Hey, you good?”

“Yeah Tech, I’m just peachy.”

“Are you su-”

“Technoblade. I’m fine. Now if you excuse me, I have to get to my next class. I have an important presentation I’ve gotta prepare for.”

Without giving him any room to argue, you rushed off to your english class. You had Adrian and Annie in your class. For your presentation, you were paired up with people that you hardly knew. At least they did their part in the project, you were certain you were going to die if you got paired up with Adrian and Annie again. You loved them, but they never did any part of their portion of work. They left it to you to finish at midnight the day the project was due. To be fair, they both told you they had family emergencies, so you covered for them just that once. 

You pulled out your flashcards only to have them knocked out of your hand when someone bumped into you. You quickly crouched to pick them up so you could have them in order by time class started. “Oops, sorry love.”

It was Annie. She and Adrian towered over your crouched form smirking at you. Looking back down to rearrange your cards, you murmured “it’s ok.”

“Are you ready for this presentation, I know I am.”

You smiled a little. “Actually, I think I’m going to ace this. English is my best subject.”

“Yeah (y/n), I wasn’t asking you. I was talking to Annie. Besides, you’re probably going to fail this.” Adrian scoffed. 

“Thank you for asking, Adrian,” Annie shot a pointed look at you, “at least someone cares.”

The bell rang, signifying the start of your second block. You felt like you had a lump in your throat blocking your breathing. If Adrian, one of the smartest kids in your english class, said that you were going to fail, then you probably were going to fail. That would take a huge hit on your grade, this project was worth a quarter of your final grade after all. You were zoned out for the entirety of your classmate’s presentations putting yourself into a spiral. You jumped when Mr. Todd, your teacher, called your group up to present.

You stood stiffly in the middle of your two groupmates and clutched your flashcards with clammy hands. Luckily, your part of the presentation was not first. When it came to your part, you were stuttering and tumbling over your words. You even dropped your flashcards in front of everybody, causing half the class to snicker. Your face burned as you hurried to pick them up and your other groupmate took this as a signal to continue the presentation. You still had an important point to make that was integral for the set up to your other groupmate’s part of her presentation. You stared at your flashcards for the rest of the presentation. 

When the bell rang, you made a mad dash out of the classroom. You didn’t want to talk to anybody, especially not Adrian or Annie. It was a relief that you had your lunch period at the moment. You could hide yourself in the bathroom nobody used and let your panic attack ride itself out. 

You ducked inside a stall and sat on the toilet, bringing your knees up to bury your face in them. The tears and panic you were holding in all day let itself out with explosive effects. You started to hyperventilate as you muffled your sobs with your knee. Your chest painfully clenched so you couldn’t breathe. Your limbs felt like they weighed two tons each and they were shaking intensely. You didn’t hear the end of the lunch bell ring. By the time you calmed down slightly, you were five minutes late to AP world history. 

You packed your stuff up in a hurry, power walking through the halls. You probably looked like shit, but you didn’t care, you had a class to get to and a test that you probably wouldn’t be able to finish now. You lost ten minutes of your test time. When you tried to open the closed door, you found that it was locked. You had to knock if you wanted to get in. You raised a shaking hand to knock, but the door was opened by a less-than-impressed Ms. Osborne. She ushered you to your desk and gave you your unit test. 

You couldn’t focus. The multiple choice section was usually a breeze to you, but you couldn’t comprehend any of the questions. When you could comprehend them, you couldn’t concentrate on choosing an answer. You did your best to find the correct answers, but you were almost positive that at least half of them were wrong. Your handwriting was nearly incomprehensible and your essay topic was something you didn’t study for. When you were done with half of the body paragraphs, the bell rang and you had to turn in your unfinished test. 

You had your independent online psychology course next in the library. You usually worked alone secluded in a corner deep inside the library where nobody went. You would get some solace in being alone. Maybe you’d calm down enough so that you could ride home with your brothers and not go for a long walk so you could avoid them. 

You settled down in the comfortable chair and pulled out your laptop to get started. Psychology was your favorite class. It was easy for you to understand, it didn’t have much of a workload attached to it, and it was fun to learn about. It always calmed you down reading about the intricate workings of the brain. 

By time the day was over, you got most of your psychology work done and you were on your way to the car you shared with Technoblade and Wilbur. You took out your spare keys and slumped against the window in the backseat. You were absolutely drained after your terrible day and you still felt panic swirling deep within you, waiting for the right moment to strike. 

You stretched out your legs across the seat and leaned your back against the door. For the first time that day, you felt peaceful. You still had at least fifteen minutes to yourself until your brothers would start to make your way to the car. You felt the panic subside slightly and you fully relaxed. You closed your eyes and let yourself drift off into a light sleep. You needed your energy for tonight’s match. 

The door you were leaning on swung open and you tumbled backwards smacking the back of your head against the metal frame of the car and reverse scorpioning onto the pavement. Your entire upper back and the back of your head exploded in pain and your lower back hurt slightly from having your back bent uncomfortably. You heard laughter above you as you felt tears of pain start to slip out of your eyes. Your legs swung out from their place above your face and landed on the ground with a painful thump. 

You saw three blurry figures above you laughing at your pain. You reached up with a shaky hand to wipe at your tears and saw Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. They were cackling as you shakily stood up and sat on the comfortable seats of the car. You waited patiently for them to calm down. 

Eventually, Sammy calmed down enough to explain what happened to you through chuckles. “I’m sorry (y/n), it was just too good to resist. You should’ve seen your face.”

She and the others broke back into uncontrolled laughter as they remembered your embarrassing fall. You were used to their antics, and quite frankly it felt good to make your friends laugh, even if it were at your own expense. Just as they were calming down once again, you saw Wilbur and Techno walk out the front doors of the school laughing at something the other said. Annie and Sammy heard their laughter and quickly turned around to watch them. They had massive crushes on both of your brothers, many in the school did. 

Your brothers made their way to your shared car and stopped to look at you in slight confusion. “(Y/n), were you crying? What happened?” Wilbur asked worriedly. 

“Yea-”

“Oh Wilbur, it was terrible, (y/n) fell out of the car. I don’t think she closed the door before she leaned on it.” Annie interrupted you with a faked concerned tone, a complete contradiction to her reaction before your brothers came.

Techno hastily made his way to the driver’s side door. “Well, if she’s hurt we better get going, right Wilbur?”

“Yes! We better get going, please excuse us.” He sat in the passenger seat and closed the door without hearing Sammy and Annie’s desperate attempts to stop them so they could talk to them. Your brothers thought Sammy and Annie were annoying. They absolutely hated being around them. 

Waving apologetically at your friends, you pulled yourself into the car and closed the door. Annie and Sammy looked offended that you had let Wilbur and Techno get away from them. Avoiding their eyes, you looked down at your tightly clasped hands. They were shaking slightly. 

After pulling out of the parking lot, Techno glanced at you from the rearview mirror. “You ok (y/n)?”

“Yeah, my back just hurts and I have a headache.”

“Well, do you wanna go and get some ice cream? We still have some time left before we have to pick up Tommy and Tubbo. Dad doesn’t have to know,” Wilbur asked you.

You sighed, you wanted nothing other than to take a nap before your match. “Sorry, but I need to watch what I eat today. We have semifinals tonight and I can’t have anything sugary. I just wanna go home and take a nap.”

Your brothers were quiet for the rest of the car ride until you reached your driveway. Techno twisted his body around in his seat to look at you after he put the car in park. “Did you actually fall out of the car?”

Shit, should you tell him the truth? If you did, they would almost certainly get mad at your friends. Sammy and Annie would never forgive you if you turned your brothers against them. You decided that you would take one for the team again. “Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention.” 

Techno snorted. “Well, that was stupid,” he jokingly said. “Next time you’re gonna get run over by a parked car.”

You knew that he meant that as a joke, but it still stung. Stamping your emotions down, you laughed with him and Wilbur. It was stupid of you to do, you shouldn’t have let your guard down if you weren’t at home. 

You winced as you slung your bag on your back and walked the best you could back into your house. Your upper back was killing you. You made a beeline to the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet looking for some pain relief pills. You took some and shambled off to your room to take your well earned nap. You set your alarm’s setting to its loudest volume and passed out. 

You jolted up and gasped when you felt a wave of pain hit your upper back. You blearily looked at the time. You had a little under two hours before you had to get back to the school for your match. You groaned when you pulled yourself up, your head pounding with every turn. You pulled yourself out of bed and once again took some pain pills. You went downstairs to grab an apple or something to eat. Your dad was at the stove stirring something around in a pot. 

He turned to look at you with an excited smile. “You ready for your match tonight? You’re gonna kill it!” 

You only nodded halfheartedly and plopped yourself down at the table with your apple. Philza frowned at your lack of enthusiasm, but he figured that it was just because you just woke up from a nap. You’d bounce back eventually. 

“Wilbur told me that you fell out of the car? How’d you do that?”

You shrugged, wincing slightly as it moved your back slightly. “Dunno, must’ve not closed the door.”

Philza was at your side in a hurry, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “Did you get hurt? Show me where it hurts.”

“My back and the back of my head.”

“Can I move your shirt so I could look?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

You felt him gently pull the neck of your t-shirt away from your body to peek at your back. You heard his breath hitch as he looked. Was it that bad? “Good god (y/n),” he breathed out.

“What, is it bad?”

“Don’t you feel how bad it is? Your entire back is bruised. I think there’s some blood too.”

“Damn.”

“First, language. Second, that’s all you have to say? Aren’t you in pain?”

“Yeah, but the pain pills are gonna kick in soon. I’ll be fine.”

“Would you be able to play tonight? I really think you should sit this one out.”

“No, I’m playing tonight Dad.”

“(Y/n),” oh no, he was using his stern dad voice. “It’s not a good idea to play tonight. You’re hurt, I’m sure they’ll understand if you sit this one out.”

You felt frustration rise up in you. “We’re in the semifinals. They need me, I’m the main setter. They’d lose without me playing.”

“(Y/n), I’m serious. You’re not playing today.”

“Dad, I am playing today. Look, I’ll talk to Coach Williams to see if I could be rotated out more often. I know she’d let me.”

He stared at you for a while before sighing. He knew there was no convincing you. “...Fine. But you better talk to Coach Williams about sitting out for a bit if your back hurts too much or I swear I’ll drag you off the court myself.”

You smiled a little at the small victory. “Thank you! I promise I’ll sit out if needed.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “If needed?”

You sighed, “when needed.”

He walked over to the pot, stirring the contents slightly. “That’s better. Dinner’s almost ready, I made some pasta.”

“It smells good, but I think I’m skipping out on it for today. I already ate this apple and if I eat any more I’ll probably hurl on the court.”

He made a displeased noise in the back of his throat, “fine, but you’re eating something when we get home tonight.”

He walked off to go get your brothers and Tubbo for dinner. You could hear their booming steps racing down the stairs towards the kitchen. They raced into the kitchen and almost crashed into the back of your chair. You stood up and looked at the two excitable fifth graders. “Careful boys, don’t want you getting hurt.”

“You’re no fun (y/n),” Tommy whined.

“Sure, sorry bout that,” Tubbo beamed at you.

You chuckled, making your way upstairs to get ready for your match. You took off your clothes with great difficulty and slipped on your jersey and your spandex shorts. They were way too short for your tastes, but you couldn’t wear longer ones, they’d just get in the way. You fondly remembered how your dad flipped out when he first saw you in them, he hated them with a burning passion. He still hates how short they are.

When you were struggling with pulling your hair back into a tight, sleek ponytail, the back of your head throbbed continuously with pain. You most likely bruised your scalp. 

You slipped on your shoes that were made specifically for playing volleyball and headed downstairs. You were met with Tommy and Tubbo jumping in excitement seeing you in your uniform. They loved going to your matches, even if they would always pass out in the car after them because matches usually ended late at night. You grabbed your dad’s keys and headed to his car. Before you could lead the boys out the door, Philza’s voice stopped you.

“(Y/n), coat.”

You huffed, grabbing your coat and putting it on before tossing him his keys. You four got into the car and set out for the high school. The short drive was filled with Tommy and Tubbo asking you questions about volleyball and encouraging you. “(Y/n), you’re gonna kick their butts!”

“Yeah!” Tubbo cheered 

Despite their voices causing a spike of pain to shoot throughout your head, you laughed at their enthusiasm. It was always nice to hear your little brother and pseudo brother in the stands cheering you on, they were your and your team’s personal cheerleaders. 

Not long after you got to the school, you were stretching with your team on the gym’s floor. Your posse found their way into the stands, sitting in the front row. The away team watched your team like a hawk, analysing every single player for any weakness. It was because of them that you tried to not show any pain when you moved your back. You talked to Coach Williams before the team stretch and she was obviously sympathetic with your situation. She agreed to switching you out with the standby setter every few rotations. 

The echo of the whistles caused pain to ring in your head every time someone scored or a foul was called. Your team captain, Haley, was constantly, yet discreetly checking on you throughout the game since she was always next to you. She was the team’s main spiker after all. 

The game droned on and on before you realized that the opposing team was targeting you when they were offensive. They probably realized that you were injured a round ago. You tried your best to block every ball that was sent your way, but a few managed to slip past you when you couldn’t move fast enough. This team was good, but your team was better. 

The score during the final round was tied and the clock was on it’s last ten seconds as the ball soared your way. You dove to hit it, landing on your shoulder on the hard floor and hitting it up high enough for Haley to spike the ball down. The crowd went wild as the ball bounced off from the opposite end of the court almost simultaneously with the screeching of the referee’s whistle, signifying the end of the game and your team’s victory.

You laid on the floor in pain, you thought you must’ve pulled your tender muscles in your back and shoulder. It hurt to move it. You felt one of your teammates grab your hand to yank you up into a giant full team group hug. You yelped slightly in pain as you felt arms press against your back and hands firmly patting your bruised shoulders. You were whisked away into the locker room to change into the pajamas you brought with you. 

“(Y/n), are you alright? That was a pretty hard fall.” Haley’s soft voice asked you. You felt your heart sing in your chest. 

“Yeah Hales, I’m fine. I just pulled a few muscles.”

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed together, “are you sure? As your team captain and your friend, I’m worried about you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You felt warm knowing that she cared about you. “I’m sure, worrywart.”

She rolled her eyes playfully and breathed out a soft laugh. “Sorry for asking, grump.” Her laugh sounded like music to your ears. 

Your phone vibrated in your pajama pocket, alerting you of your family waiting for you in the car and for you to hurry up. You sighed, “sorry Hales, I gotta go. Dad’s getting impatient.” 

She gave you a small smile. “Oh, well, tell your family I said hi! Good work on the court today, I wouldn’t ask for a different setter.”

You felt your cheeks warm up and you watched with wide eyes as she left the locker room. Your phone vibrated again, your dad was really starting to get impatient. 

You walked out of the school as fast as you could to find your dad’s car waiting for you up front. Jumping in and softly closing the passenger side door, you slumped against the window. “(Y/n),” Tommy’s tired voice slurred. “That. Was. Pog…”

You glanced back to see him and Tubbo snoring away in their seats. Your match was more exciting than usual, so that must’ve really tired them out. You chuckled, turning back around to lean against the window. You took care not to put any weight on your shoulder or back. 

“(Y/n), you were amazing out there, but why did you dive for that ball? That fall looked like it hurt.”

You hummed tiredly, “thanks Dad. I just did what I thought would win us the game. We’re going to finals!” You quietly sang. 

“Did you hurt your shoulder?”

“I actually don’t know, but I think I might’ve pulled a few muscles. Nothing too bad.”

“...I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for you tomorrow morning during your first and second blocks. I want you to get your back, shoulder, and head looked at. You looked miserable the entire match.”

You sighed, too tired to argue, “mmk.”

He chuckled before the car fell into a comfortable silence. The gentle bouncing of the car and the subtle hum of the engine was lulling you to sleep. Your eyelids were drooping by the time you pulled into your driveway. 

You drug yourself out of the car and into the house, leaving Philza with the sleeping boys. You walked straight to your room and plopped down on your bed, passing out instantly for the second time that day.

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

[peeterparkr]

red; tom’s version|two.

chapter two: the lucky one. “You don’t feel pretty, you feel used”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship a month after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: bottle caps, a red scarf and two coincidences that probably mean something warnings: angsty a bit, cussing, word count: 6.7k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist previous chapter next chapter

Present day. One month after the breakup.

Tom knew he had to stay quiet. Or rather, there was barely anything he could say while he was plotting his next words. He could barely believe he had a chance.

Walking down the streets with her quietly as he saw her, arranging her own thoughts. She had agreed to listen.

And he knew it was because whatever they’d felt, it made it worth it.

Y/N was angry. Not sad, angry. He had expected her to be crying. He didn’t want to be the reason why she would and he tried thinking he wasn’t. Though, deep inside, he was perfectly aware that he would be blamed for the tears that she’d shed in the last few months.

He wasn’t proud of that.

Guilt blinds. And Tom was blind in an attempt to shield. It was easier to shield on his own excuses that would serve barely as a plea to forgiveness.

Glares were directed at him. Her jaw was clenched and she had crossed her arms. The moment she’d realized what she’d agreed to, she’d turned stiff.

“Aren’t you cold?” Tom had tried asking.

“I don’t wish to speak to you.”

Fair.

And it was the middle of the night once again, how many times had they not walked under the stars with barely a destiny to reach. And now he was walking to his doom.

Y/N was mental.

In a good way. But the girl had taught him how insane you can be when it comes to relationships. In the best way possible, not as an insult.

Tom knew that he had fucked up. And he had been in New York for a while, though he hadn’t spoken to her directly, knowing that approaching her would only wound her.

It was colder now, Christmas was barely around the corner. In any other circumstance, it would’ve added to the romance.

Here it was just a bad omen of whatever would come next. The lights flickered as soon as they were walking past them.

“Are—are we not going to talk?” Tom questioned anyway. “I thought—“

Y/N shrugged. “I’m still deciding it, you see, I don’t know if I want to listen to you break my heart in an attempt of forged honesty.”

Tom dug his hands in his pockets. “I genuinely want to apologize.”

“And I genuinely don’t like you,” she snapped. “You see my problem?”

Tom sighed. “Fine,” he gulped. “But you are cold, that thing isn’t covering your neck or chest.”

Y/N had gone for a rather inadequate option for a cold winter day. Though Tom would agree that the black dress had been yet another punch to his stomach, all of course with an attempt to make him regret it, it was still rather unsuitable for the freezing city. But she looked stunning.

Her coat barely covered her, and her crossed arms were probably more of an attempt to warm herself and it served as a clear exposition of her anger.

She didn’t answer, however.

“You could wear this,” Tom offered, showing her the red scarf that once belonged to her. Tom liked to think that it now belonged to them.

The red scarf that had become a token to their relationship. From the very first day.

Y/N looked at it, and reluctantly took it. “It’s only because I’m cold.”

But Tom wanted to think it wasn’t only because of that. Wearing the scarf meant she was opening a door for him.

Seeing her again had been quite different from what Tom had expected, her hair was different and her makeup too. Her gaze seemed lost.

Whoever was standing beside him didn’t seem like her. She was a stranger, a very familiar one. But there wasn’t that visible spark that he’d fallen for. Not that he wouldn’t be able to love the figure in front of him but he feared he was the reason for its disappearance.

“It smells like you,” y/n whispered as she wrapped the scarf around her neck.

Tom smiled, briefly. “I’ve been wearing it. Your own smell wore out,” he regretted saying that. “That sounded way too creepy or cheesy.”

“Both, somehow,” she agreed. “Don’t ever say that kind of shit again.”

Tom gulped a chuckle, “noted.”

There was still that y/n in there, the one that liked the kind of cheesy things that he could say. The ones that came up at the right moment. Though, there was still that y/n that didn’t take any bullshit.

Tom hadn’t gone exactly through diamonds and sparkles after the breakup. And the city was now quite different from when it had first received him. Now covered with dark smoke and trash, with only skeletons of trees.

Guilt drowns. And Tom was, undoubtedly, drowning in a drought. Everything had dried off yet he felt like he could barely breathe.

Knowing you’re the reason for someone’s hurt is no fantasy.

And he was broken, too. Very, very broken. However, he knew he was seen as the bad guy here and he wouldn’t call himself less, and he wouldn’t admit he was aching too.

So he was trying to ignore it.

Her apartment building hadn’t changed. Not that Tom had expected it to, but it was nice to come to a familiar place. He noticed the stairs were still rusty and unclean and creaked as he walked in. New creaks had come in that he hadn’t memorized yet. He hoped he would have the chance to.

Y/N stopped at her door, with more questions than answers to give him.

“I really don’t know if I can do this,” she admitted to him. “But I know that if I don’t give you a chance to explain yourself I’ll never forgive myself.”

“That’s fair. But…I’ll do whatever you want me to, but please let me explain it to you,” he begged. “I—If you want me to leave New York and never come again I’ll understand.”

Y/N crossed her arms and leaned against the door, a red door that would open to memories he couldn’t quite forget.

“I already said I would listen,” she recalled. “But—“ her eyes met his, they looked tired. “I am having an inner monologue on why this is stupid.”

“Care to share?”

She took a heavy breath, “Well, you see, Tom, if that even is your real name…”

“Really? You’re—“Tom tried hard not to roll his eyes. “Yes, my name is Tom.”

“Tom….”

“Holland.”

“Hm, interesting. Holland, I remembered it being something else. You’re a liar, just making sure,” she said. “I’m—I just feel stupid. Because I shouldn’t be feeling this way for such a short relationship, is that even—was it? Can we even call it that?”

Her words felt bitter to Tom’s own tongue. He understood why she was defensive. “Yes.”

“Well, I don’t fucking know, maybe we confused whatever we were feeling with love, or—“

“I didn’t—“

“Could be easy, Tommy, you’re an actor, actors, as far as I know, act, and man did you play such an amazing role,” she snarled as she opened her door, leading the way. “Be quiet, by the way, I don’t want to wake up Lula or Jules.”

Tom walked in into what seemed a messed snapshot of how he remembered the place. It was the same, in essence. But sadder. The apartment still had a few sweaters here and there, and y/N’s notebooks all over it.

He could see Lula’s leftovers in their coffee table and some candy wraps that Julia had probably been eating while reading her book.

He turned to that one corner and saw it, the jukebox that had been what had defined y/n’s and his relationship. He dug his hand into his pocket to search for the locket y/n had given back. Tom squeezed it as he searched in his pocket for something else.

Guilt kills. And Tom was dying.

“Here,” Tom said as he reached out for three beer caps in his pocket, “I brought these to you,” he offered them to her, knowing there were jars full of them.

Y/N collected them. Or rather, it was her latest collection that she’d later use for her art. Or whatever she was into at the moment.

The apartment was small. It had two bedrooms which they all shared. They’d rotate whoever had the luck to have the single room. So small. And yet it felt so big.

Y/n pursed her lips but then took the beer caps and placed them on the counter.

“We’re going to the roof,” y/n said. “I’m just getting us some wine—No,” she shook her head, probably realizing that having wine would make the moment a tad more romantic or cuddly than she expected it to be. “Make yourself useful and make some tea, I’ll go change myself, I’m freezing.”

She’d brought blankets and a hoodie he hadn’t remembered he had left. They didn’t have to go to the roof, Julia was staying with Matt and Lula was not back yet from wherever she was.

She had stayed quiet, for a bit. Cuddled up in the same couch where they—

“Do you like your tea?” Questioned Tom.

She looked up. “Yeah, you can add that to your many talents. Right before lying.”

“I make better tea than lies? Good to know.”

Y/N shrugged. “How long have you been here?”

“A… few days,” Tom admitted. “I have been trying to walk up to your door but I keep getting lost in the subway, and when I did come here I panicked and cried.”

Y/N shrugged. “I thought I saw you, the other day,” she said.

“Oh?”

“It wasn’t you,” y/n confessed. “So I just yelled at a poor stranger. I—I genuinely feel sorry for him.”

Tom tried not to chuckle. “What did you yell?”

“I called him a bastard and asked what was wrong with him,” she scrunched her nose. “Not my proudest moment. I was kicked out of the bus.”

Tom gulped. “I’m sorry,” he took a deep breath. “You can yell at me if that helps.”

She shrugged. “No, I think I’m good, I let it all out with him,” she grimaced. “But I might just—“she picked up a pillow and threw it at him with barely any energy.

“Fair enough,” he nodded. “But I can be your punching bag, I deserve it,” he admired. “I see the jukebox,” Tom said, motioning to it.

She shrugged. “Yeah, would be stupid if you didn’t. It’s quite big. Barely any space left.”

Tom chuckled. “I meant—“

“No, no, I know what you mean. I’m trying to ignore it,” y/n admitted. “I notice it too, every day. Almost threw it away.”

Tom nodded. “Why didn’t you?”

“Well, it’s a very functional jukebox, the music on it,” she said. “It would be stupid to throw out something like that.”

Tom had expected a different answer, one rather more romantic. Like, that maybe throwing it out would’ve meant throwing him away.

“Right. I’m surprised the cops haven’t come for it.”

She smiled.

She… smiled?

She smiled.

Tom hadn’t thought he would see it again. So comforting. And genuine. Not forced.

“It’s not stolen,” she reminded him, “not really.”

Tom decided to smile back, but to himself. He couldn’t really look her in the eye.

“I guess I also kept it for the same reason why you kept that stupid scarf,” y/n added. Quieter now.

Tom took a deep breath. “It’s a fashionable accessory.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “It’s been out of fashion for 10 years.”

“Trends come back.”

Y/N looked up. “Not when they're horrible, no,” she said with a heavy breath. “I don’t—“She shook her head. “No, we can’t do this.”

“Do what?” Tom questioned.

“Talk like you didn’t break my heart,” she snarked, gulping down her thoughts. “I always knew your heart never truly belonged to me, you know?” y/n said, holding to her mug. The tea was probably cold now. As so were they.

Tom was taken aback by that statement. “I—at the beginning—“

“No, it never truly did. Not completely.”

“I—“ but Tom didn’t have an answer to it.

The night was cold and New York was still awake. But it felt like it was them and only them even if they felt like oceans apart. He hated it. The first time he’d ever been truly lucky he had run out of luck.

Y/N watched him. “I always knew it was meant to be for a short time and I didn’t need anything more, I somehow knew that you’d hurt me,” she explained.

Tom had never meant to go this far. “I never meant—“

“Imagine if you had meant it though, how crushed would I have been. It wasn’t your intention, and yet I ended up crying on the floor,” she said, ironically

Tom couldn’t say more but an “I am so sorry.”

“I know you are,” she said. “I hope you are.”

Tom stared at her, “I am.”

Y/N directed him a single glance. “I don’t think you understand, Tom. This month has been the shittiest in my life.”

Tom didn’t have enough words to apologize. Or he had too many to say. Instead, he could word out anything.

“The worst part is that you also gave me the best fucking days of my life,” she continued. “So I’m at a crossroads here. Because there’s a part of me that thinks it was all bullshit and there’s also the part that knows it couldn’t be.”

Tom watched her. “It was not bullshit,” he said. “It was real.”

“That’s the worst part,” she pointed out. “I think, yeah, all of it being real then it makes it hurt even more because that means I lost the best thing to ever happen to me and you lost something so real.”

Tom nodded. “I lost the best thing to ever happen to me, too.”

Y/N was, without a doubt, the best thing he’d never looked for.

“Did you lose it because of me? Or did you lose me?” She quickly questioned, raising her brows.

Y/N was also a murderer.

“Well,” she took a deep breath, ignoring his sight as he was trying to know how to Answer. “You better start explaining yourself.”

“Before I—I… I… Right, well—Before I came here—I—Ella—“

She closed her eyes. “Actually, no.”

Tom paused, in fear.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, we will….” Y/N tried arranging her thoughts. “Tell me from the moment you hopped on the plane.”

Tom stayed quiet.

“I need to know how it looked from the moment you arrived, not… before, although I’m risking the fact you’re an unreliable narrator.”

“I am a terrible narrator,” he admitted.

Two months before the breakup. Tom’s version.

Tom remembered how little it had taken him to make the decision to escape. He had decided to escape from what everyone told him he should love.

With a backpack, his passport and a half ass made suitcase, he had hopped on the first flight to New York. No regrets as it had taken off. Sweet Escape airlines had been so kind to him.

Not telling anyone about it. To their eyes, he probably was only late to a party, and they’d see him in a few minutes with an excuse of an apology.

Yet, he was on a plane. Escaping from the perfect life.

They always said how lucky he was. Didn’t they? How incredible it was to have what he had. Because he had everything.

And he was running away from it. He watched the people on the plane, his seat was unflattering, next to an old lady who seemed to be rather impolite.

He remembered when he had made the decision to run out, the night before, a camera flash had blinded him and time had suddenly stopped. Just a few hours before hopping on the plane. Everyone expected him to do something he was not ready for. Everyone thought it would come.

Even Eleanor.

Especially Eleanor. Ella was probably counting only the minutes for his arrival. He had promised her he would be there.

No one could ever judge Tom for the decision he had made. Well, everyone would. But Tom liked to believe they couldn’t. As a technicality, that is. That they had absolutely no right to do it.

His parents wouldn’t be proud of it. Too bad.

Tom was nervous, though. The decision had been, undoubtedly, rushed. He hadn’t shown up to that early brunch.

Still wearing a suit, with a white buttoned shirt unbuttoned on his neck. He had still almost gone to that brunch in that FancyAss restaurante.

A brunch? He thought to himself. How incredibly out of character it seemed, he had become a caricature of whatever they wanted him to be.

Did he have to apologize to Eleanor? He didn’t want to.

He really didn’t want to.

He looked at his phone, Harry was calling him. A few other texts from his mother, too. Two missed calls from Ella. Probably wondering why he was late. He hoped they didn’t wait for him, for he would never arrive.

New York was a bit far from it.

The whole flight had been him trying to figure out if it was a good choice.

But he was given an ultimatum, and when those come you have to decide.

His decision was to go to New York. And it was the best choice.

It was, of course, but it was alright to doubt it. It was not likely of him to simply run away.

He didn’t have it all figured out. And that’s why he was clutching his backpack. He was chasing a dream that he didn’t even know he had.

Maybe that’s why he was running away. He didn’t know who he was. But of course he had heard it, how he looked like a million bucks. And he had said it to everyone else the night before, how the stars looked like diamonds in the skies.

He was making a name for himself, he knew that. Or rather, they were making a name for him. And he didn’t know who he was.

The flight was rather short, or maybe Tom barely had any time to think about it.

Running away from his own country, from his family, friends and from Ella, whom he barely had a title for right now.

The city was quick to receive him with bustling crowds, people pushing and rushing. But also opening up as he was walking in. Dancing around him.

How magical. He thought to himself as he tried texting Harrison, hoping his best friend wouldn’t mind receiving him at his place.

Tom managed to get a taxi that was waiting right outside the airport.

He hopped in and grinned to himself proudly. He was there.

With a new city ahead of him and no one expecting anything from him. With no one telling him what to do, with no one giving him an ultimatum and no one with orders for him.

“Where to?” Asked the taxi driver, as he stared from the mirror.

Tom, though he was not proud of it, was having a moment. “I’m running away from my life,” Tom explained. “don’t you ever get tired of the role you’re supposed to play? Like you were not meant to play it but now you’re too stuck in it.”

“Man, I'm sorry, I ain’t got no time for that kind of poeticbullshit, I need an address.”

The moment ended quickly. “Right. Sorry. I’m an idiot… uh, it’s this one.” Tom had to look up for Haz’s address.

“Every time,” the driver sighed, chuckling. “Why do y’all think New York is some sort of magical city that will give you the answer to whatever you’re going through.”

Tom’s smile widened sarcastically, “Well, isn’t it?”

“Guess it is, in a way, but I’ll tell you something,” the driver stated, “whatever you think New York will give to you, it'll be the very opposite. It won’t be what you want but it might just be what you need.”

“Oh really?” Tom chuckled, “who’s the one with the poetic crap now?”

“No, I’m messing with you, damn all you tourists believe that kind of thing huh? New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of huh.”

“It’s what we’re sold,” Tom gave in.

“That sounds pretty, don’t it? To not get what you want but what you need.”

“It does.”

In a way, he was right. Tom would’ve thought he needed a break. To escape. That’s what he wanted right?

But what did he need?

The city welcomed him with a short rain, the water reflected the twinkling lights, as the shadows were reflecting the life he had left behind. The people rushed with their coats, as they were off to their lives. And it felt like he was finally breathing.

Although he would not share his thoughts with the driver again, Tom thought this was what he needed. A new start with no one that would judge him.

That’s probably why he’d chosen New York, the people are too busy living their own crazy lives to focus on someone so insignificant like him. He didn’t have to be whoever he was before, the pretty face, the cool guy everyone liked.

No, he was a guy in a stupid cab, and not to be worried if they said he hadn’t chosen a better ride, on a bigger car.

No, no announcement of whatever he was going to do on the papers because his dad had arranged it.

No, now he was but what he always wanted to be. One of those cautionary tales that they tell about people who go mad and escape and live.

He was a legend now.

Maybe they were right, he was lucky. He was lucky because he had finally made it out of there.

And he saw the lights, with Broadway shows waiting for him, with new adventures coming. With a new life that he wanted to create. The Broadway signs changed to Tom’s sight.

‘A very new life for the Lucky One.’ Starring Tom Holland.

A new beginning.

Maybe he was lucky. Though he never wanted to be in the spotlight. He constantly was, though.

Except, of course, for the fact that Haz hadn’t really answered his text the way he wanted to.

Haz probably didn’t believe Tom that he was in the city.

He would just knock at the door then.

“Well man, I hope whatever kind of role you want you get it,” the driver had said as Tom had hopped off.

Harrison’s building was far from fancy. Harrison had often described it as an ‘affordable pigsty’. Tom wouldn’t describe it as anything else.

But it was perfect. The perfect stage for his new charade.

Tom carried the now heavier backpack and suitcase up and was lucky enough that someone had entered the building so he could go up and show up uninvited to Haz’s apartment. If he could call it that.

He knocked, two times and Haz opened the door.

“Piss off, you’re not actually here!” Was the way Haz had decided to greet.

Tom laughed. “I fucking am.”

“You bastard,” Haz grinned before pulling his friend into a hug. “No way, I didn’t believe you. Man, I’m so glad to see you!”

“You too, man your place is…” Tom couldn’t finish.

“A pigsty but it’s home, I’ll make some place.”

And they had.

Haz had left a few years ago, with a dream in his head and a chance to make it. Or… a chance to get a chance to make it.

Leaving London had been quite such a simple decision for him. An inspiring actor that could’ve made it back at home but decided to leave for New York? It was stupid, honestly. Very anticlimactic of him.

But like Tom, Harrison had to escape before he was pulled in.

Just like Tom had been, tangled up. Tom’s ‘big break’ had yet to come but his family had managed to get him to the rising star he was.

He loved what he did, acting was definitely his true passion but not like this. Not buying his way into parts, not going out with someone so he could be considered. Hanging around with the right people just so they could get him a role.

Haz had gone for plays instead, and Tom knew he was fantastic. But he also had to get his big break. The industry had a funny way to say this.

“So, you just left?” Haz asked with a beer in his hand as he’d taken Tom to his favorite bar. Beers were cheaper there, and given that it was a Thursday, the happy hour lasted longer.

The bar was different from what Tom had expected. An old jukebox that was playing odd songs, colorful things. Very odd.

“I bloody just left,” Tom admitted. “What was I supposed to do?”

Harrison rubbed his face, “I dunno.”

“I couldn’t keep pretending,” Tom said, as he played with the bottle. “I—It wasn’t me.”

“But didn’t you just get cast in—something important?” He questioned.

Tom sighed, “Not for talent, no.”

He had seen a girl walk up to the jukebox and pay again to play “Twist and Shout” by The Beatles, she moved her head along to the song.

“Man, who bloody cares?” Haz rolled his eyes bringing the attention back to him. “You’re getting somewhere! You look pretty, you’re cool, and you’re getting somewhere.”

Tom knew where Haz was coming from. Things were going perfectly, one could argue. But it didn’t feel real. It was just a game of make believe where Tom had eventually been dug in.

“It wasn’t that,” Tom admitted. “Ella gave me an ultimatum.”

Harrison stopped, probably now understanding more why he had left. “And how do you feel about that?”

Tom stared at his beer. “Not how I’m supposed to.”

Harrison watched him. “One can only pretend for so long.”

“Yeah,” Tom sighed as he undressed the beer bottle.

“Does anyone know you escaped?” Haz asked.

Tom grimaced, pulling out his phone, turned off. “No, well, Harry knows, I told him I had left but didn’t tell him where to,” he said before unwillingly turning it back on, to show the billion notifications popping up. Multiple text messages, missed calls. “I need a new phone so I can keep this one turned off.”

“I think you should tell someone, otherwise they’re going to call the police or something,” Haz suggested.

Tom sighed, “Before I do let me go get another round,” he said as he headed to the bar.

Though Tom should’ve known right then and there that his life would change, he was very oblivious as he saw a couple. The beautiful girl sitting right beside… some guy. The very same girl who had played ‘Twist and Shout’.

She wasn’t smiling anymore, and Tom could only interpret her stare as something unpleasant. The guy and her were both stiff.

Tom couldn’t blame the guy because he was often criticized for also being like him. Not being able to make the beautiful girl beside him smile. Not understanding her worth and brilliance as anyone else in the room did.

She had dressed up, it seemed, just for her very date and he was just… there. The guy was simply an unuseful accessory adorning her side. His eyes were glued to the TV on the bar, a program that seemed to be very uneventful.

Tom often liked overhearing conversations, and this time wasn’t an exception.

“I recently discovered my new collection,” the girl said. Tom noticed the scarf on her neck,“I will start collecting bottle caps.”

The guy looked over, “Is it going to be for your new project that you’ll never finish?”

“I will finish it,” she said as she took off the scarf, now playing with it, tying and untying it. “And I’m going to ask Ben here to save me as many as he can.”

“Y/N,” the guy said. Pretty name, thought Tom. Fitting. “You never finish them.”

“Art is never finished, William,” the girl, y/n, defended again. “It’s only… abandoned.”

“My point,” The guy, William, rolled her eyes, “You never get through with them.”

“I do,” she defended herself. “You just never pay attention to it.”

Tom watched her frustration. Even then the guy wasn’t really into the conversation. He didn’t blame him, really. But he was more on y/n’s side.

“I think you should pay attention to more important stuff. Instead of wasting your time doing whatever.”

“Art isn't whatever,” she sighed, and then frowned, noticing Tom was watching them.

“I’m not saying it’s whatever, y/n, but you’ve got to have other dreams rather than collecting beer caps.”

Y/N looked away, “It’s for a painting.”

“A painting you’ll get bored of eventually, it’s always the same, y/n,” the guy was still too busy with his own beer watching the TV.

Y/N clenched her jaw but then directed her glance at Tom, still intrigued by the conversation.

Tom cleared his throat as he finally got his beers, the guy opened them for him but Tom asked for the beer caps.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help but listen,” Tom admitted before giving her the beer caps. “Good luck on your project.” The girl finally smiled as the guy accompanying her glared at him.

Tom shrugged and dedicated them both a smile before going back to Harrison. Had Tom been William he would’ve appreciated that someone made his girl smile, it was a waste not to share her smile with the world.

And Tom, out of everyone, understood what the girl had said, people bringing him down were always for him so to have genuine support from a stranger would help her. And him.

Yes never getting anything done but still having a passion for it was accomplishment enough.

“So what’s your plan?” Haz asked as soon as he was back. Tom watched the girl, still.

“I have none,” Tom admitted, watching as y/n and William were still arguing, probably now over the fact that Tom had left the beer caps. He didn’t feel guilty, even when both of them were pointing at him as the argument kept going. “I will just—Get a break for a few days. A well deserved vacation.”

Haz watched him. “Right.”

“You know, be a tourist,” Tom shrugged. “I—I dunno I just needed to get out,” Tom sipped from his bottle as his eyes were glued to the couple, now arguing loudly but not loud enough to be understood.

Haz followed his gaze. “What are you looking at?”

“Dunno, they’re odd,” Tom shrugged. But they weren’t really. He just saw his future, so uninterested to the girl beside him.

“Not really, you should get used to that,” Haz said. “But—You’re going to tell Harry, right!”

“Problem is,” Tom brought back the attention to Haz. “I don’t think Harry will be able to keep the secret.”

Harrison crossed his arms. “What are you really doing here Tom? You do realize that you’re hurting everyone—“

“Yeah, yeah fuck that, I know, I feel guilty. But—I can’t anymore. I couldn’t fucking stay there, not anymore,” Tom snapped. “It’s not Ella’s fault. Well not entirely but—“

“No, I know,” Haz rolled his eyes, “guess the perfect life can get boring.”

Harrison thought so too then. That Tom had the perfect life. How was it perfect? How was it really? Tom was not perfect. He was far from it, nothing about it was spectacular. He wasn’t living. Even though everyone around him thought he was having the time of his life Tom couldn’t help but feel miserable.

He wasn’t getting what he truly wanted. He didn’t enjoy the roles he was getting or the parties he was attending. He was far from what his dream was. And though his ‘breakout’ would come eventually and he’d have the chance to be who he wanted to be, it wasn’t coming any time soon and he doubted that he’d be able to be happy.

Or maybe he would be. He needed a break.

Tom caught up with Haz, his life, his misery and whatever the conversation led to, it’s fair to say that Tom’s head could barely pay any attention. His decision was sinking. He’d escaped his life.

He saw the girl from before leave, with the guy following her with frustration.

“They’re gonna break up,” Haz said watching them too.

Tom saw the girl had left the unfashionable red scarf behind.

He expected them to come back for them but they didn’t.

Eventually, Tom and Haz left. Tom picked up the scarf. He tried to say that it was a little reminder that he’d helped someone. He had actually been drawn to it. He couldn’t explain why. So he kept that idea.

Of course, he’d seen the red scarf and then regretted instantly taking it. Haz had judged him too.

“Why the fuck would you pick up a stranger’s scarf?”

“Because.”

The next day, with very little sleep and a bit of a headache from the jet lag and the beers, and after telling Haz he’d be productive, he decided he wouldn’t be and instead he wanted to visit a museum. Again, he was unsure as to why he wanted to go there. Lately he only followed his instinct.

But then again he had escaped so he could do whatever he wanted, and going to a museum seemed like something they’d never expect him to do. So that’s what he did.

But of course, he didn’t know much about art or anything so he decided he’d end up at the MET. Where else would he start?

He had planned getting on the subway but he decided he didn’t have time to memorize it and he didn’t want to look like an idiot so instead he took another cab. He didn’t tell the drivers this time any poetic bullshit.

When he got to the MET, he was immediately lost. Tom had this stupid habit of never knowing where the hell he was.

He didn’t mind this time. He would take the time to explore, to think to himself. To stare and read and to learn a little.

How ironic it seemed to be at the place where so many people were at. Basic, maybe but he was still enjoying it.

The big walls and endless exhibitions were making him feel small. And he hadn’t felt that way in a while. He liked that.

His path wasn’t being decided and he only followed his heart. He got to the musical instruments exhibitions.

A piano made him stop. It resonated with him. In some sorts, or it was interesting enough for him to make him stop.

“That’s the oldest surviving piano,” a voice mentioned from behind.

Tom blinked, realizing he had stared too long at it. “Oh?” He looked back at the voice and though Tom did not believe in coincidences he couldn’t help but think this was an oddly magical one.

The beer cap girl from the night before.

“Yeah, it dates back to 1538 and was created by—pardon my pronunciation—Bartolomeo Cristofori, the Italian man who is credited with inventing the piano,” she said, staring at it too. Her hair was slightly messed up. Wearing an overall that was covered with slight paint stains, a white cardigan over it.

“Oh, I would’ve never thought that,” Tom said. “It looks old.”

“Yeah,” she hadn’t looked at him, she was too entranced by it, her arms were crossed. “It's very old.”

Tom stared at her instead, how weird it was. He should’ve brought the scarf. No, that would’ve been weird, weirder than taking it.

“So you work here?” Tom questioned.

“No, I’m just incredibly good at lying,” she stated.

“Wha-what?”

“That fact I gave you, yeah that was a lie,” she grinned and finally turned to him. She tilted her head.

“Oh it sounded… very real,” Tom felt like an idiot.

“Yeah, I’ve worked on that for a while, lying to tourists, you’re my first one of the day,” she said. “So, a pleasure lying to someone with an accent.”

“It sounded very real,” Tom cleared his throat.

“I know, it’s a real fact, just slightly twisted,” she grinned. “I gave you the date wrong.”

Tom coughed. “Oh.”

“Yeah, and you straight up believed me,” she grinned. “The date is right there yet you listened to a random weirdo,” she grinned.

Tom blushed, “well, you sounded very—“

“No, don’t feel bad, it’s an art, lying to people,” she grinned.

He nodded in agreement.

She watched him curiously, “Do I know you?”

Tom faked to not recognize her. “I don’t think so.”

She narrowed her eyes, examining him head to toe. Then stopping at his face. “No, wait, were you at Bennie’s Beer Garden last night?”

She had recognized him.

“Uh—I was at a bar,” he decided to fake ignorance. “Oh—“he snapped his finger. “Wait are you—?”

“Beer cap girl, yeah,” she smiled. “Yeah, that was me, but I looked better last night.”

Tom smiled, “No, you look fine.”

“What a coincidence, thanks for the beer caps, by the way,” she chuckled. “How weird, and now you’re the first one I lie to.”

“It’s a pleasure, thank you,” Tom laughed.

“You must think I’m crazy, collecting beer caps and lying to strangers,” she blushed now, stepping back from him.

Tom did think that. In a good way. The girl seemed to be whatever he wanted to be: a fucking weirdo that don’t give two shits about anything in life.

“Surprisingly, no,” Tom shook his head. “I would lie to people instead if I was good at lying.”

Ironic, it seemed. Didn’t he make a living out of lying? Didn’t he technically lie his way through life?

“Yes, it's very tiring work, people say they don’t like being lied to,” she said. “I do, that’s why I love reading whatever is trending on twitter.”

Tom cackled, and turned his attention back to the piano.

“I’m y/n, by the way,” she mentioned casually.

“Tom,” he answered simply.

Y/N nodded. “So, Tom, what's your favorite lie supplier?”

“I watch movies,” he said, “or celebrity gossip.”

“A classic,” Y/N grinned. “Yeah, we all choose the lies we want to believe, I guess.”

“People like that, believing lies and feeling like they’re true,” Tom gave in. “Especially if they’re pretty. They help us escape reality.”

Y/N nodded slowly, and smirked. “We are getting deep now, huh?”

What the fuck did New York do to Tom that he randomly said poetic bullshit to strangers. He was embarrassed. “I—sorry.”

“No, no, I like that,” y/n was excited. “I guess you’re right. Lies are a way to cover something.”

“Yes, sometimes lying means protecting,” Tom bit his lip.

Y/N tilted her head. “Is it really?” She didn’t want to agree. “I would say lying is a way to actively hurt someone.”

“Well, were you trying to hurt me with your lie?” Tom challenged.

She licked her lips, defeated. “In a way,” she gave in. “I was trying to misinform you. So.”

“Well, what if the truth hurts more?” Tom questioned.

Y/N took a deep breath. “Then it’s a paradox.”

“Excuse me,” Someone interrupted them. “I’m sorry, y/n? I thought you weren’t coming today.”

Y/N smiled, “oh yeah, I wasn’t, I just forgot something in my locker and decided to walk around.”

The other guy turned to Tom. “Did she give you a fake fact?”

Tom chuckled, “she most certainly did.”

“Y/N, you can’t keep doing that,” the guy warned her. “You’re gonna get fired.”

Y/N grinned as she watched the guy go.

“I thought you didn’t work here,” Tom chuckled.

Y/N smiled mischievously, “I do, just another lie I said to you. You’re very lucky, two lies in one.”

Tom chuckled. “huh. Yeah, lucky me.”

“Yes, now if you’ll excuse me, little British man,” she grinned. “I’ll go lie to other people, nice lying to you.”

Tom grinned. “Yeah, yeah, nice… believing your lies.”

“Enjoy the Met,” she grinned. “Hope I get to see you again, thanks for the beer caps.”

“Thanks for the… lies,” he said, watching her leave. Maybe he was lucky.

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[sallyf4ce]

wolves

chapter II

-> sally face x f!reader

-> enemies? to lovers

-> previous | next

cw: drugs, cigarettes, abuse, panic attack

*does not follow original plot of sally face*

summary: larry knocks (y/n) off her feet, literally. later, him and sal come to apologize, bearing a gift of homemade lasagna. sal and (y/n) bond over their similar bodies. his eyes look familiar.

The sound of your skateboard and the wind brushing past your ears practically deafened you, which allowed you to think in peace. Maybe you’d survive in Nockfell.

Maybe it wasnt as bad as you made it. You’d grow close to the old apartment, push through school, leave your mother as quickly as possible, and start fresh somewhere across the world. The only thing that you wouldn’t get close to is the forest surrounding Addison. It loomed over you, day and night, dewy pines poking out at you like a warning sign. Maybe mom moved here just so she could torture you with the forest. Remind you of what happened.

Loud footsteps joined the wheels of your skateboard. You looked back, and on your trail were those two kids from the apartment. The tall one’s face was almost right in yours. You let out a small yelp as your skateboard hit a rock and sent you tumbling to the ground, completely destroying your knees in the process.

“Shit!” larry yelled out in surprise as he dodged the skateboard that went right between his legs.

You quickly reached out to your head, trying to calm the searing pain pulsing through it. What the fuck just happened?

“What the fuck?” you groan. The blue haired boy, sal, grabbed your skateboard and came up close to you. pulling down his sleeves, he quickly grabbed your knees and covered them, soaking up the gushing blood.

“Larry!” sal turned around to face him. You winced as the fabric of his sweater clung to your knees. Your hands grabbed his to pull them off but you froze. They were soft and cold, almost like snow. How would it feel to hold them longer? Would you warm them up? or would they freeze you?

What the fuck?

You snapped out of your trance and moved them off your knees. You scowl at larry and pick your skateboard back up.

“Nice job, asshat.”

His face flushes at the insult and he moves back. Sally stands up and offers you his hand, but you dont need his help (obviously a lie, your entire body was aching like a scale 8 earthquake). You shove yourself up and wipe your burning palms on your jeans. With your feet back on the skateboard (it took a few tries to get up because your knees kept buckling), you flip them off and begin skating back to addison. You just wanted a nice fucking stroll alone, why were these fucks literally everywhere you went?

It’s around 12:45 now. You came home, took a bath, bandaged up your knees and took some tylenol. Mom was already in her bedroom and there were some leftover beer bottles on the coffee table, so she probably wouldnt wake up anytime soon. you quickly trashed the bottles and decided for a quick nap on the couch, since your room was… occupied. your pyjamas, for now anyway, consisted of an oversized grey ac/dc shirt and some soft-ass spandex shorts.

“finally, a fucking break from this shit.” a content sigh escaped your lips as you threw yourself onto the cold couch.

a few knocks sounded at your door.

“(y/n)? it’s uh, it’s sal. and larry.”

“fuck.”

THEY’RE LITERALLY EVERYWHERE WHAT THE FUCKKKK AGGHHH WHY CANT THEY LEAVE YOU ALONE THEY ALREADY BUSTED YOUR KNEES LIKE WHAT

“coming.” you mumbled angrily even though they couldn’t hear you.

the blinding fluorescent lights of the hallway hit you as you opened the door. along with them came the smell of freshly baked lasagna. your eyes widened for a second, before looking up at sal. he stared at you, taking in your appearance. your hair was ruffled, eyes blinking sleepily as they adjusted to the light. your shirt had ridden up and showed a bit of your stomach. he blushed as you pulled it down and glared at him, a slight tinge of red on your own cheeks.

“larry.” he nudged his friend. the brunette walked up in front of sal, holding a pan of lasagna.

“listen man, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to fuck up your knees n shit. jus’ got excited cause of your sanity falls shirt. can we, uh, can we come in?”

Slam.

larry quickly jumped back in surprise.

“i guess that means no.”

you yelled out a quick ‘wait!’ as you cleaned up your apartment and hid your mom’s weed and other things. god, for a grown woman, she didn’t know how to clean for shit.

opening the door back up, you waved them inside.

“god, you smoke a lot.” larry coughed a bit at the smell of your apartment, which earned him a shove.

“sorry! god, sal, so mean.” he mumbled.

“s’ my mom. i only smoke outside. uh, take a seat on the couch, i’ll warm up the lasagna.” you pulled it out of larry’s hands as they both took a seat on your makeshift bed.

sal shifted. “you sleep here?” he asked, confused. maybe your room was being used as storage.

“for now. there’s some weird ghost shit going on in my room. some fucking preppy ghost woman keeps squealing when i come in.”

ghosts? you believed in ghosts? maybe they’d be able to take you on their expeditions! sal perked up at the thought of you becoming friends.

“you believe in ghosts?”

“well, i saw one, so what else could it fucking be?” you chuckled as you shoveled the now warmed up lasagna onto three plates. sal noticed and his eyes widened.

“oh, no, i- i don’t want any-” he waves his hands.

“you’re having it, i don’t care.”

larry laughs as you shove it into their hands.

“feisty, aren’t ya?” he stabs some and shoves it into his mouth. you sigh and lean back into the couch.

“you guys go to the school here, right?”

larry nods. “yeah, there’s only one school in nockfell.”

“eww, larry face, don’t chew with food in your mouth.” sally laughs. in the corner of his eyes, he thinks he can see you smile.

“yeah, we go to nockfell high. i’m assuming you’re going there too.”

“mhm. starting monday. hurry up and eat, i’m not warming it up again.” you grumble. sal doesn’t move. “god, okay, i’ll look away. i have to go clean this thing anyway.” you wave your prosthetic’s fingers.

“oh, yeah, you also have a prosthetic!” his face shifts into a child-like curiosity. it’s a face that you’ve seen before, and it makes you giggle a bit every time. you place your hand on his lap. sal does a double take and his mask raises a bit.

“you wanna touch it, don’t you. go ahead.”

“damn, sal, you get all the ladies. leave some for me.” larry chimes in, hand on his forehead in mock sadness. he chuckles.

“you gonna touch it or what?”

“uh, yeah.” sal slowly lowers his hands onto it. he traces your fingers, flexing them every once in a while. he flips your palm and looks at the graffiti ‘s’ you drew on it.

“when was this?” he looks back up at you.

“grade 10, two years ago. got bored in class and accidentally took out my sharpie instead of a dry-erase marker. god, my mom was mad.” you chuckle at the memory. she didnt let you back in the house for two days. you had to camp out in the shed, where you stored your extra food so she wouldn’t steal it.

sal hummed. “what about this one?” it was a big ‘SF’. was it for his name? of course not, she didn’t know you back then, moron. still, it warmed him up a bit.

“not for you, that’s for sure.”

“damnnn, savage!” larry put his plate down. “mind if i get more?”

“larry, we brought it for (y/n).” sal scolded.

“nah, i don’t mind. knock yourself out.” you nodded, continuing your conversation with sal.

larry trotted towards the kitchen.

larry’s point of view:

sal and (y/n) seemed to be getting along quite well. good for him, really. we might be able to coax (y/n) into our friend group. i didn’t like her at first, but i think she’s just a little stand-offish. anyway, back to the lasagna. man, i wish mom would make it more often. she only makes it for guests. where is it? oh, there. (y/n)’s going to nockfell high, right? probably should tell her about travis.

your point of view:

sal was still tracing your arm, running his pale fingers over where the prosthetic connected to your skin. the doctors could have chopped your arm off completely, up to your elbow, but you wanted to salvage as much as you could, so it stops mid-forearm.

“do you take it off often?” sal hummed. it felt a little intimate, tracing your prosthetic. it was like soothing a part of your body that was already gone. what? what was he thinking?

“mmm, i take it off every night. if i leave it on, i could get rashes ‘n shit. rashes aren’t fun. ‘m assuming you take yours off every night too.” he nods.

“i don’t like taking it off during the day. phantom limb shit, you know? it hurts a lot.” you grumble.

“got the lasagna. since you’re going to nockfell, ‘should probably tell you about travis.” larry sits down. “he’s your typical stick-up-the-ass bully. doesn’t really like sally face ‘n our crew.”

“yeah. just ignore him and you should be fine.”

“we‘ll protect you.” larry swings an arm over your shoulder.

huh? you can protect yourself. does he think you can’t? is it because of your prosthetic?

“i can do it myself, you dimwit.” you push his arm off your shoulder.

“time for you to leave.”

“woah, dude, calm down-” larry’s eyes widen in panic. he didn’t mean to offend you.

“i’m sorry!”

“i’m not hurt, just need my sleep. it’s 1:30. go on now.”

sal sets down his cold, uneaten lasagna and larry takes a quick bite out of his.

“see ya!” he mumbled, words muffled by food. you click your teeth as he walks out of your apartment and towards the elevator.

“(y/n).”

you spin around to face sal. his hand lingers on your counter.

“your knees. how are they?”

you look at his eyes through his mask. they’re light blue. like the lake that you so dreaded. like the sky that morning. like your dad’s shirt. he blinks.

“uh, f-fine. they’re fine. they should heal in a few days. time for you to go.” you grab his shoulders and shove him through the door.

“see you tomorrow?” he stumbles.

“yeah.” the door shuts with a slam and you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of dread.

oh god, not this again. your vision blurs as you try to grasp onto your breath. you can hear the blood rushing in your ears. your heart thuds like it’s going to break through your rib cage. it feels like someone is strangling you, coaxing the last breath of air from your lungs. your nails scratch at your throat desperately, your salty tears only making the marks burn more. at least the cold metal of your prosthetic cools you down a bit.

shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up. you can’t wake anyone. you bite down on your lip to suppress the strangled cries leaving your mouth. god, not the lake, please. not the forest. not the huge, dirty, rabid wolf-looking creature behind your father. not his cries. please, just make it shut up. SHUT UP.

you wake up the next morning to your alarm ringing.

taglist: @purelydarling @ghostfacefricker6969 @deadpoetsandhoney

[writertothemaximum]

Yuta Aoi x Reader

Summary: You and Yuta have been dating for a while and he’s anxious about meeting your parents. Maybe he needs something to help him relax.

Word count: 1.5k

Warning/Content: nsfw/smut (18+), sub!Yuta, dom!reader, Yuta is aged up, handjob, cute wholesome couple goals

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24045316/chapters/63012241

It was only halfway into the afternoon when you noticed how utterly anxious Yuta was. He was pretty good at hiding it, really, considering you had spent the first half of the day with him at his photoshoot. Although, you supposed that was the effect Hinata had on him. They really found their confidence in each other, it was quite sweet.

The problem here is that you and Yuta had been dating for the past two months and it was time to break the bubble. The, “you should meet my parents” bubble, to be more specific. You were supposed to have dinner together that night and Yuta was, well, unprepared mentally, to say the least.

You sat on your couch together, Yuta glued to the armrest away from you. You could feel quiet rumbles in the seat, his body softly shivering from a sheer force of ice-cold stress as deep as the heart could get. He kept skirting his eyes between his phone and your eyes, almost as if he were trying to gauge your expression. Pupils dilating between the light from his hand and the shimmering darkness around you. Well, that’s at least how Yuta saw it.

Lips pursed, small words sputtered out of his mouth.

“Will they like me?”

Yuta was being self-conscious again. You laughed.

“I hope so.”

It didn’t seem to help.

“But what if they like, I don’t know, think I’m weird or something…Will they think it’s weird that I’m an idol? Are they okay with keeping that under wraps? What will Aniki think?” he said, words rambling endlessly, getting ever gradually faster and faster as his tongue refused to stop. He put his hands to his head, pushing his blue headphones down his neck, grasping ever desperately at his mind, as if he could convince his brain to stop thinking if he pushed hard enough. “Oh god, oh god, what if I say something callous and they get all aggravated at me? I don’t want that…”

You put a finger to his lips, pushing into sweet flesh.

“Shh, shh.”

Yuta quieted down. You scooted forward, entering his personal space, placing a hand on his arm. You rubbed up and down, comforting him. Yuta started to breathe, letting the air fill up his lungs until the blood decided it was time to go back to his head. You leaned onto him, placing your free hand on his forehead. It was singing with heat, burning up like dry grass in a wildfire.

“Yuta, you’re getting a bit hot, do you have a fever?”

The shaking paused if only for a second.

“H-Huh? Huh, well um, I don’t feel sick?”

You hummed, getting closer to him.

“Hm, are you just a little embarrassed, then?”

“Y-Yeah, a little,” he said, his voice shrinking away.

“Hm,” you started, humming. “And why would that be?”

Crystalline light shone off of his jade-like eyes as they skirted around the room, avoiding you.

“Well, I, I um…” he sighed, not normally stuttering like this. His shoulders hunched up, he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for not being good enough. You’re just this great producer that everyone relies on and I still feel like some kid…I don’t want to disappoint you when your parents see me.”

Ah, so that’s what it was. It finally all came to you.

He’s anxious because of what he knows. The rejection he knows of a father who disowned him. It was a little sad, in a way. The way everyone saw reflections of themselves in everyone else. Especially Yuta, practically glued to a mirror of himself, forever linked, eternally tied by a sweet, pink string.

“And why would all that make you embarrassed?”

Yuta’s breathing shorted, his throat clenching, his face shredded thin with the feelings of a short cough.

“Well, it’s because I like you,” he muttered through his teeth.

“Oh, it’s because you like me,” you said, reiterating his words.

You let your weight loose on his arm, letting gravity crush him against the sofa cushion, pushing him close to you. Carefully, you slid your hand up his knee, tracing up the soft part of his upper leg, slowly pushing into the pillowy skin of his thigh. You felt the fabric of his shorts puff out at you, thin strands of thread, all sewn together, wrapped so delicately around these two legs.

“I like you and I don’t want you to hate me,” he said, the words sputtering out.

Cupping your hand, you lifted off the leg and wrapped it loosely around his groin. With the pad of your hand, you carefully pushed down on him, adding such gentle pressure. It was so teasing, just barely making any friction, the frustration of almost making it but missing the mark. Kneading into him, you felt his groin push back, dick hardening into your hand.

“Yuta-kun, don’t you think it’s a little indecent to be hard while you confess to your crush?”

Yuta started to wiggle around, like a fish, soaking wet, flung onto dry land.

“I-I confessed to you ages ago. You’re clearly coming onto me, just hurry up already!”

You put a finger to your lips, looking off into space as if you were simply considering the repercussions.

“Hm…Well, we’re going to meet my parents in a couple of hours, it wouldn’t be good if you smell like semen and sweat.” You bent forward and shoved your nose into his shoulder, taking in a big scent, strong, full of sweat—Absolutely Yuta in every meaningful way. “Although it certainly turns me on.”

You could feel it as Yuta’s heart sank deep into his chest. As his hands slid up your body pinning him against the seat. As everything started to slow down and he forgot how to breathe again. He was floating in a sea of ecstasy, frustration, almost there, just so close.

He wasn’t shaking anymore.

“Please…”

Yuta’s eyebrows clenched, teeth fumbling with the edge of his lips, as if considering whether or not to bite them.

“Please what, Yuta?”

His knees puckered out, his feet straining as his hands clenched down on the armrest.

“Please touch me already, I don’t care,” he said, looking down at the cushion. “Please.”

You laughed, “Alright, alright.”

You plucked out a tissue from the box on the coffee table and carefully unbuttoned him, zipping him out. His dick popped out, juicy and frustratingly hard. You slowly wrapped your hand around it, stroking very softly. You felt around, careful to attend to each point of heat, each vein piercing with pressure, leaching out at you, begging to be touched. Yuta writhed slowly in his seat, biting his lip to keep the moans from pouring out.

“Does it feel good, Yuta?”

He looked off to the side before nodding frantically.

Each quiet slosh of precome made such a lovely sound in the room. He was so lost in the pleasure, his hips rocking slowly against you, completely unaware of your rhythm, as if he were humping a seat cushion. His mind was so blank with the feeling of your hands around him, he found himself not caring anymore. Not really thinking about anything he didn’t need to.

“Do you like it when I touch you here?”

You put your free hand above his groin, spreading your fingers spread apart, thin nails brushing ever so delicately against the peach-fuzz hairs on his belly. You pushed, sinking into doughy flesh, pushing deep against his stomach.

“Do you feel the pressure in here?”

“Uh-huh,” he managed to get out.

He started to shake and you knew he was about to blow his load. Yuta, convulsing and twitching, desperately grasped his hands around you, as if guiding you through the last strokes to get him off. Yuta grunted through his damaged lip as he came into your hand and the tissue. Yuta made another small sound as he sank into the corner of the couch, completely spent.

You held the soiled tissue up to your nose and gave a whiff before deciding it was gross and tossing it into the trash.

Yuta smacked your thigh lightly with the back of his hand.

“You know you can’t fix all our problems with sex.”

You turned around and hugged him.

“Yes, but I can fix your confidence with it.”

Yuta blushed hard.

You patted his head.

“I can fix it with this, too,” you said, your fingers running through silky orange hair. “You’re a good boy, Yuta, have more faith in yourself.”

He pouted, the blush still sore against his cheeks.

“I know, but it’s hard sometimes.”

You kept patting his head.

“Good Yuta, good Yuta~”

Embarrassed, he swatted at you with his hand.

“Stop that, we have to get ready, you know.”

You laughed.

“I thought you didn’t want to go see them.”

He stood up quickly, looking down at the ground and quickly swiping his sweater off the coffee table.

“Well, now I know I don’t have to make them proud because you’re already proud of me.”

It took you a second before you realized what he said.

A big smile crossed your face.

You jumped up and gave him a big hug.

“Let’s go find the cutest outfit for you!”

“Wouldn’t something bright and flashy be better?”

“Nah, let’s go for something cute!”

He couldn’t hide the smile through his pout.

“Alright, let’s find something cute.”

[creativeashproductions]

When Fate Intervenes // Luke Patterson

IN WHICH: Fate intervenes with a trio of musicians on the night that was supposed to be legendary. Fate puts the reader with a special ability that may or may not be able to save them. Fate puts a clairvoyant, an accidentally upsized pizza and thirteen year old oddly obsessed with a rock band.

Warnings: Swearing, food poison, death, and fluff

Words: 2.8k

A/N: Time to get rid of some fic ideas from my TOO LONG of a list. It’s Julie fault, she keeps encouraging each fic idea I tell her.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

The Orpheum, 1995

The line up comprised of countless girls wearing homemade band shirts for the new band performing. Your little sister, at thirteen years old, had pleaded for weeks if not three months to go watch it. It was odd since she was more in the pop scene than the rock music. Your parents would never let her go to the rock show at night, so it was you or no show. It took a promise of doing your chores for an entire month and her dessert for two months. That was why you stood beside Harper among the fangirls while you clicked through the camera you’d saved up for years.

“I’m so excited.” Harper buzzed dancing on your feet as the time on her watch dwindled down more and more.

Your eyes flitted from the screen to the ball of energy you called your little sister, “I can tell. Which one do you have a crush on?”

“Reggie. He’s the bassist and so fucking-sorry freaking cool.” Harper gushed, “A good portion of the fans are obsessed with the lead singer Luke. Bobby is the rhythm guitarist, and he’s a ladies man, but he’s sweet about it.”

“And you’d know that how?” You questioned letting go of the camera around your neck. Your e/c eyes meeting her matching pair of irises; well yours were a bit more vibrant.

“I just know.” Harper retorted before beaming as she roughly poked the pin she’d made herself, “This represents all of them. Red for Reggie’s plaid shirt he always has, orange for Bobby’s love of oranges, yellow for Luke’s energy and pink for Alex because he loves the colour!”

The pin had their band design with Sunset Curve on it with the words outlined with a sunset made up of red, orange, yellow and pink just as Harper had pointed out. By far, it was her best work, but that was expected from an art student at Los Feliz High School. An art school for artists and performers. You attended for photography and creative writing just as Harper attended for art.

“That might be your best work Harps.” You complimented your little sister who shivered in the cool night breeze. You didn’t even think about tugging off your warm jacket to place on her shoulders.

You’d rather be cold than your little sister no matter how much you fought with each other, the Y/L/N siblings had each other’s backs no matter what.

“Thanks.” Harper murmured, leaning closer, “So do I meet Reggie?”

Your eyes widened slightly at her subtle goading to a part of your life was cinematic. It was a piece of you that very few people knew about, only your parents and Harper. Like most of the women in your paternal lineage, you carried the ability to foresee events in the future. A clairvoyant.

“Harper!” You scolded the young teenager who blatantly was just over-excited to see the band she’d been talking about constantly.

Harper’s cheeks turned a cherry blossom pink under the crappy lighting from the marquee sign. Even in the light, you noticed the changes in her face as she matured into a young woman, her cheeks while still full didn’t have that baby cheek look now. You saw a stubborn zit that you could see under the makeup that didn’t entirely match her skin tone. It caused an ache in your heart to know that soon she’d have the experience of heartbreak.

“Sorry!”

“You told me these guys are my age. Need I remind you that you are thirteen? If anyone older than thirteen makes an advance I’ll put my softball skills to the test.” You sternly informed the shorter girl with the pout that screamed rebellion, “Just be a kid Harps.”

“Like you said Y/N, I’m thirteen. I’m not a kid anymore.” Harper dropped the attitude to adopt a more mature soft tone. You could see the tinge of sadness in her eyes at losing the part of life where it was easy.

“I know. I can wish you’ll stay that annoying little kindergartener that stole my clothing.” You chuckled, “You’ll always be the Stephanie to my DJ.”

The two Y/L/N siblings momentarily glanced around before hugging as quickly as possible, they still had reputations to uphold. Had you been actually paying attention, you and Harper would have noticed the commotion from the people behind you.

As you and Harper had the sweet moment, the very band performing had raced out the alley into the street. What brought you back to the surroundings was the pizza boy delivering the pizza box to you. 

“Wait, we ordered a small!” You exclaimed finding the boy holding an extra-large pizza. You only received a shrug in response with the right change given back. 

Two things happened with this food mistake, you didn’t have to pay more than what you actually ordered, and you still got the larger pizza. However, the Orpheum didn’t allow outside food, meaning you’d have to force-feed yourself all the pizza or trash more than half. 

“We could shar-” Harper was cut off as a blinding white light became your focal point. Harper knew what was happening by the specific groan coming from your lips.

A nauseating scent of cheap meat, gas and chemicals flooded your sense of smell in the dingy alleyway. It was nighttime with a few people in the general vicinity with a dilapidated table and mismatched chairs on the walls’ edge. A poorly made sign with Sam & Ella’s and going by the vendor selling the hot dogs the name fit. Sam & Ella sounded like salmonella.

From a distance, you couldn’t quite hear the conversation between three male teens, but you had a bad feeling. They all migrated to a ratty couch that had been better days, a rat wouldn’t even crawl on it you swore.

The first boy had slicked back hair with rosy cheeks you dubbed innocent and cute that juxtapositioned his rocker attire. He had polished black leather shoes, pleather if his choice of food was an indication, a leather jacket and a red plaid shirt around his waist. His attention focused on the two guys beside him. In the middle, the boy had the blue hood of his sweater pulled over his messy brown hair as if hiding. Nothing stood out about him, and it seemed like that was intentional. On the other side, the last one was the tallest with his blonde hair hidden by the backwards black hat. A distressed dark grey jean jacket open to proudly display his pink hoodie. Each one wearing black pants and adorning rings.

“This is awesome, you guys. We’re playing the Orpheum!” The middle boy joyfully spoke head in the clouds instead of the questionable surroundings. He arguably had the loveliest smile you had ever seen, and his friends had nice smiles at that as well.

Yet even if this hadn’t taken place, however, it still felt like you were intruding on something incredibly private, “Why am I being shown this?”

Your question went unsurprisingly unanswered.

“I can’t even count how many bands have played here! And then ended up being huge!” He happily sunk into the back of the couch, thinking of all the bands he had CDs to in his room, “We’re gonna be legends!”

“Oh.” You breathed as you caught a whiff from the boys that quickly gave you the understanding of why you saw this. You could only smell what you had dubbed as death, the scent unchanging from the first time you’d encountered it.

The death stench accompanied a clairvoyant vision if the object of your vision was sick or about to die. The first time you encountered, it was a vision of two cars colliding, the sound of shattering glass and crunching metal, the scent of burning flesh overpowering the milder stench. The next morning school was cancelled after a teacher died in a car accident on the way to work.

“Eat up, boys. ’Cause after tonight, everything changes.” The only vocal one continued with his two friends silently listening. The trio toasted their food together.

“No!” You exclaimed as each boy took a bite. You held your breath, hoping that the inevitable in the vision wouldn’t occur.

Unfortunately, it was right away the warning appeared. The blonde one the most affected, “That’s a new flavour.”

“Chill, man. Street dogs haven’t killed us yet.” The leather jacket guy proudly spoke, the least one concerned. 

Even the guy in the middle was concerned but ultimately continued eating.

“Stop it!” You shouted, but it was no use. As with every vision, you had the potential to stop it from coming true, but while in the vision, you couldn’t interact with the people or surrounding. No matter how much you wanted to slam the food out of their hands.

But one thing sends shivers down your spine. The one in the middle made direct eye contact with you. Something that had never happened before nor to any previous clairvoyants. He kept eye contact as he slowly grew sicker and sicker.

The three boys had no chance as the ambulance rushed to the alleyway to save them. The paramedics weren’t as quick as the vendors who’d already packed and fled to protect their own hides.

You watched as the paramedics did everything in their power to save the young teenagers with everything possible. Just like Luke sang in their last song, the boys felt the darker version of an electric hammer to the heart. The clocks freezing in place as they each took their last breathe in the oddest of deaths. You saw the blonde guy die painfully first before followed by the formerly hooded one, the terrified cries of the last one haunting your phantom ears.

How did three healthy teenagers die on the same night of the exact nature within minutes of each other without one surviving? Maybe it had something to do with the hot dogs chilling in the liquid that was a cesspool of bacteria compounded with tained condiments from battery acid.

You roughly came out of the vision shaking and pale-faced frantically scanning the surroundings. Harper had a grip on the extra large pizza box while the other tightly held yours to ground you in the present.

“Are you okay?” Harper softly questioned with the panic hidden inside her body. Harper knew that this vision had been one of the bad ones. The haunted look in your eyes hinting towards death in the near future.

“We need to go.” You frantically replied, grabbing the pizza that would hopefully have a hand in saving three hopeful teens.

Your gym teacher would be proud of the distance diminished and speed you kept towards the area that would further shatter you. Foreseeing death and sometimes unable to stop it always had a nasty impact on you. 

“Where are we going?” Harper yelled, “We’ll miss the doors opening!”

“We’ll miss them if we don’t hurry up!” You shouted back at the disgruntled little sister but at the moment that didn’t matter. 

What mattered was three hungry teenagers about to gorge themselves on death dogs if you didn’t make it in time. It appeared for the first time you’d actually manage to stop the deaths, unlike the previous three times. 

“-tonight. Everything changes.” The chill-inducing rasp helped navigate you to the disgusting couch. Your cold hand slammed the hotdog from the blonde’s hand, the shocked reaction halting the other two.

“Don’t...eat...it.” You heaved bending over at the waist to catch your breath. Wheezing sounded from your little sister as the running and seeing her favourite band up close settled.

“Excuse me! I paid for that hotdog!”

“You’d be buying yourself death literally. Your dreams of playing the Orpheum would be extinct.” You sighed, chugging the water from the pocket of Harper’s backpack for a few seconds before the owner took it back.

“Okay, look I don’t know how you found us but-”

“You don’t have to believe me ’cause I sure as hell wouldn’t have but don’t jeopardize your dreams. Look my little sister wanted to see your show so I brought her and we ordered a pizza. They fucked up the order by giving us an extra-large pizza. We’ll barely eat a quarter of it, and the venue is strict on the rules.” You rambled using tour hands to elaborate the story before Harper roughly elbowed your ribs, “Ow!”

“Oops.” Harper faked a sugar-sweet smile for your benefit as the interaction with the three musicians slowly dove into embarrassment.

“-sorry. You’d be doing us a favour by not wasting our money and food. What do you say?” You hesitantly asked the trio who didn’t speak vocally; their eyes meeting in a silent conversation.

Reggie sighed as he begrudgingly dropped his hotdog in the bin near the couch, “Pizza outranks street dogs even if the dogs are heaven and to die for.”

“Literally.” You grumbled forcefully pushing the obscenely large pizza box into the middle one’s stomach, “I’m Y/N, this is my little sister Harper.”

“Hi.” Harper shyly waved with cheeks turning a dust pink concealed by the dark of the alleyway. The boys’ lips all quirked at the sudden contrast from the confident sister slamming her elbow in you to the bashful teen.

“I’m Luke. This is Reggie and Alex.” The hooded one, Luke, introduced his bandmates as best he could with his hands occupied by the pizza box.

Without the threat of death by the hot dog, you actually took the time to look at Luke with appraising eyes. His eyes were like oceans of blues, greens and even a brown that both exhilarated you; the desire of studying them not surprising. His smile outshone the sun on the hottest day in August.

“Nice to meet you.” You informed the trio with a beaming smile that matched your starstruck little sister. The interaction gave you the opportunity for immense and untiring future teasing on the teen that daydreamed of the bassist. 

You had to admit the trio were incredibly attractive.

“Come back to the dressing room. We can eat there out of the cold.” Alex courteously invited the two formerly strangers. His blues sharing his pure intentions to repay you for saving their lives and offering pizza. 

“Of course.” Harper nodded her head with her eyes barely meeting the ones of the boys. The shell was broken when Reggie piped up.

“That’s a really cool pin! Where’d you find it?”

Gated Community, Los Angeles, 2002

An off-tune humming filled the modestly sized home in the suburbs of Los Angeles, California with the sound of water splashing. Doing the dishes was a mindless chore that typically didn’t bother you, but the pain in your lower back protested. You’d have used the dishwasher, but the thing was perpetually breaking down. Didn’t seen essential to replace when washing dishes by hand was just as productive.

Or it was when you didn’t have the extra weight in your midsection, a symbol of your love with your husband. In fact, you would have avoided doing dishes if you hadn’t just used the last clean plate and glass at breakfast plus Luke hadn’t been home in the previous week.

Sunset Curve had gone on a press tour for the upcoming album and tour planned for next year.

“Oof.” You moaned as the little rascal once more hit your bladder, “Are you breaking electric guitars in there?”

“Not a soccer player?”

“With you as their father? Not likely.” You snorted as the sudden appearance of Luke became clear. You hadn’t been expecting him, “I missed you. We missed you.”

As had it since you first told him Luke’s warm hand came to rest on the front of your swollen belly. In a short month, you’d be cradling the newest member of the Patterson family with Luke singing the lullaby he solely made for baby P.

“Still haven’t given in?” The lead guitarist teased you with a beaming smile splitting his face, “Go sit down. I’ll finish the dishes.”

You didn’t need to be asked twice. 

“I’m not abusing my clairvoyance to foresee our child’s gender, name and appearance.” You pointed one finger in his direction, “I refused Bobby’s pleading to see which models he would bed. The only time I did something like that was to reassure Alex that he would fall in love with a lovely guy.”

Luke’s heart burst with sheer adoration at how easily you had sunk into the friendship with the band after that one night. A night that had given birth to a friendship that slowly evolved into a romance and marriage. To this day, the group got together as much as possible.

“I love you.” Luke chuckled, “Even-”

“-if I came into your life like a completely crazy person?”

“We’re all a little crazy.”

Your house surely would be when a little tornado with Luke’s energy took over the home you’d made with Luke. The very home you would have more children and grow old together until soon you held your grandkids on your laps.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

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[thesmokingguns]

Phone Tag

Word count: 3512

Requested: “My idea was that the reader thought Kelly was cheating on her on tour, and when he comes home, he finds her really upset and comforts her and assures her that he only loves her”

Requested by @littlemisscare-all

A/N: I just want to thank @littlemisscare-all for the request and letting me message her about questions I had. Kelly Nickels is a new character I’m writing and she was patient with my questions and so helpful. This is a little longer than my usual one shots so I hope you like it. I have three requests I need to write on top of my regular stuff I want to put out so feel free to make a request but I’m going to say the time might be up to a week now. I also have a tag list you can be added to by just messaging me or filling out the form. Please let me know what you think ❤️

Tag List: @thenobodies-inc , @littlemisscare-all , @agroupiewhore, @ayablackwood

Ring, Ring, Ring

The constant sound of the phone trying to connect with room 828 was filling my head. The high pitched sound bouncing around your mind as you wished he’d  pick up. After another minute of the phone going unanswered you hung up, wiping my sweat filled palms on the denim dress hastily.

You could see your fingers trembling, the anxiety of the situation coming out in physical ailment as your trembling hands started to get numb. You shook out your hands, flexing them, cracking them, pushing them together, anything to just calm yourself down enough to feel them again. Your heart was beating so fast that it felt like it had turned on its engine and got lodged in your throat when it pressed the gas. You couldn’t swallow down the pounding so you tried instead to take a gulp of air. Breathing in through your nose and out of your mouth. In through your nose and out through your mouth. Even though you felt like you were not getting enough air when you breathed through your nose you continued anyway trying to calm your body that seemed to be fighting you.  You were trying anything to try and stop the full fledged anxiety attack from coming on.

You stepped back into the store, trying not to make eye contact with your friend and coworker as you started to fold the sweaters  on the front side table. Your hands needed to stay busy as you tried to avert your eyes from anyone, tears pooling in them. You couldn’t think about the situation or you’d start crying. But fuck, it had been almost a week since You had heard from your boyfriend. Your hand went to my pocket, pulling out the ripped out notebook paper Kelly had given you with the name, date, room number and phone number for each hotel. He was supposed to be in Phoenix in room 828 at the Hilton Hotel. Which you had already called seven times throughout the day without any response.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Your coworker touched your shoulder and you let out a sob, hands flying to your face. The feeling of someone touching you after the last month of being alone was too much. You broke feeling the loneliness blanketing over you, covering you. Your coworker was leading you to the breakroom, thankful no one was in the shop to see you have a complete mental breakdown.

He had promised you that you would talk every day; he had seen the nervous look in your eyes when the guys talked about the tour. All the girls that would be throwing themselves at the band. They were all about the three fundamentals: sex, drugs and rock n roll. How were you going to compete with something you weren't there to see?

“Jesus Fucking Christ, where the fuck is that paper?” Kelly was tearing apart the tour bus looking for a yellow piece of legal paper that you had written down all the numbers to call you on. He had lost it a week ago after he had drunkenly started a shot game with Phil that night and that had proved to be a horrible mistake.

When he had woken up, on the kitchen floor of the tour bus, a hangover so bad he wanted to fling himself into the highway all he could think about was calling the person that he loved and telling her about his night. The sound of her voice coaxing the hangover out of him and filling him up with the love she had for him. He had pushed himself off the floor, grabbing his cigarettes from his jacket and digging in the inside pocket for the list of numbers, but the paper was gone.

It had been six days since he had lost the numbers and as much as he tried to remember a phone number he couldn’t even think of one. He had expected a phone call to explain everything but the problem was that phone call had never come. This was just another layer of frustration that Kelly couldn't figure out. For the first few weeks of the tour he had gotten the calls at the hotel but a night before he lost the number the call hadn’t come in.

So now, being the very logical, even headed, and not complete maniac that he was, Kelly was tearing apart every single part of the tour bus. Ripping open trash bags, pulling apart beds, and crawling under the table that had a weird sticky substance underneath. As he pushed half drank beer cans aside he saw the flap of yellow sticking out. His heart leapt to his throat as he snatched up the paper, flipping it over and groaning audibly. The paper had gotten saturated. One number was partially visible with only a couple numbers melting together.

Walking off the tour bus he headed over to the payphone, setting a handful of change on the metal bottom as he started to dial different combinations of the number hoping that he could finally reach his girlfriend. Hoping that her lack of calls to him didn’t mean they had broken up or what if she had met someone else? She did have that fucking girlfriend who didn’t like him. What if she had gone out to The Roxy and met someone else?

He gripped the paper so hard in his hand as the phone rang and he thought of you with someone else. He needed to talk to you,

You were walking home, unable to work as your mind went a million miles a minute. Your heart thumping so loudly that your own thoughts were muted and just scenarios were popping in your head. Images of Kelly with his arm around another girl, disheveled hotel rooms with discarded clothes, his lips worshiping someone else's body. You stopped on the sidewalk closing your eyes, fists tightening as you told yourself not to scratch your arms. It was all in your head. This was all in your head and not real.

Another shaky step towards your apartment. Your eyes were on the payphone at the end of the block and you figured you could try one more time to call the hotel. Maybe when you heard his voice it would put out the fire of your mind. He could calm your anxiety, easing you from the panic attacks it caused and draw you in with the safety of his voice. He must have known how crazy you were going and when he finally talked to you he would have a logical explanation for why he had disappeared.

As you convinced yourself that he was going to answer this time, you could feel the burning bile in your gut start to be put out as the rational part of your mind tried to make a little room for you to have hope. The way your hands trembled as you took out a dime, sliding it into the slot and dialing the number, let you know that the temporary band aid your rational side had put on your anxiety wasn’t going to stick for very long. If Kelly didn’t answer it was going to be ripped off and you’d be left with the exposed wound that you would need to deal with..

Ring...Ring...Ri-

“Hello?” your heart caught in your throat, and you could feel your eyes widening as you heard a voice answer the phone on the other end, “Hello, is anyone there?” The very female voice that was answering the phone was not your boyfriend.

“Kelly?” his name left your lips, almost a whimper. All of the worst situations that you imagined could be happening in your head seemed to come to life now. It wasn’t just in your head, a woman was answering his hotel phone.

“Ohhhh, they’re in the shower. If you call back in an hour-” you hung up the phone. It took you four tries before you could get the receiver on the cradle because the shaking in your hand was running through your entire body now. You tried to crack your fingers, a weak attempt to get some control of the motions of your body.

In the shower. If he was taking a shower at 4pm what was he washing off of himself? Who was the girl who had answered the phone? Had he not answered because he had been so busy with her all day? You dry heaved in front of the payphone, sucking in air when nothing came out. You wanted to go home and hide, burying yourself under blankets until the weight of the sadness lifted. Not that you were sure it was ever going to lift because you had just caught him cheating on you.

It was a miracle that you made it to the apartment. You dropped your keys twice, your hands not working how they were supposed to. Your grip on them slipping and letting them fall through your fingers. Had you let Kelly fall through your fingers?

You hissed out a curse, shouldering into your apartment and locking the door behind you. You were off of work tomorrow so you could stay holed up inside the apartment for at least twenty four hours before anyone would think to call. That gave you time to wallow in your emotions and feel everything you needed to feel.

Looking around at the space it dawned on you that you would need to leave. Separate your things and get out of the city before he comes back to it. Which didn’t give you enough time at all because he would be back in two days for the LA show at the Whisky a Go Go, Where were you going to live? Maybe you could find a roommate or you could always stay with your best friend. She would let you in. There was so much to do and so much to figure out but you needed to lay down and figure it out from the comfort of the bed.

On the way to the bed you tripped over the phone you had kept beside it for the past few days hoping for Kelly to finally call you. You looked at the phone hanging off the hook, knowing if anyone called you they would just get the busy signal but you didn’t hang it back up. Kelly was too busy in some hotel room with a strange girl and he hadn’t bothered to call you in a week anyway. You needed to just get in bed and mourn your relationship. You’d move out tomorrow and start a new life without him.

Kelly hung up the phone, looking at his apartment phone number that the girl at the shop had just given to him. He had missed you by twenty minutes and from what he had just heard you were in bad shape.He sucked in his bottom lip as he dialed the home number. He would explain everything to you as soon as he had you on the phone. He could already picture you asking him if he had at least won the drinking game.

“What the fuck?” He looked at the phone when he got the busy signal. It had to be the right number. He had repeated the number twice to make sure that he got the correct number and now he was getting a busy signal. He dialed again, getting the same alert sound. Then again. And again. He stopped after constantly calling for ten minutes to take a breath. He was going to need to have a beer and try again.

He tried calling twenty minutes later, an hour, three hours, and before he went on stage for the show. His mind was thinking of how you could be on the phone for that long. He frowned as he grabbed his bass going over to the band's manager. He needed to get home sooner than the tour bus would take him.

You got out of the shower, wrapping your sweater around you over your nightgown. Your eyes skimmed the apartment where you had spent the last four hours cleaning like a maniac and separating everything. Your records were in a milkcrate by the door, along with a trash bag of all your clothes. Things like pots and pans didn’t seem worth fighting over. You would leave those for him. Even though you weren’t even sure if Kelly knew how to fry an egg.

Twirling a piece of hair around your finger you tried to calm the uneasy feeling filling you. He had been the one who hadn't answered your calls or called you. He was the one who had a girl answer the phone in his room. He wanted you to leave but he didn’t want to see the hurt he caused by telling you it was over. Your friends had all warned you about dating a rockstar so it wasn’t like you could expect much sympathy from them. But you had been with Kelly for over a year and hadn’t seen it coming. It felt like you were blindsided. To love someone so much had really just opened you up to the pain you were feeling now.

Moving to the bedroom you looked around the room, the pit of your stomach turning in sadness as you thought about this being the final time you sleep in this bed. The tears boiling up and tumbling down your face as you sat on his side, touching the pillow that he slept on. You could smell his aftershave and scent on his pillow just making you cry even harder. The feeling in the pit of your stomach growing as you missed someone who was gone.

Over your tears you didn’t hear the sound of the front door opening. You were wrapped around a pillow mind racing in a thick fog of all the reasons you weren’t good enough. Why couldn't he love you? Could anyone love you?

“Y/N, baby, what’s wrong?” Arms were wrapped around you. You were being pulled onto a lap, hair pushed away from your tear stained face.

“K-Kelly?” It comes out weekly, almost afraid you’re hallucinating arms wrapped around you, fingers touching your tears, pushing the puddles that gathered on your skin with an expert flick of a thumb.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here. What happened? Why are you so upset? Who do I need to fight?” He was trying to defuse the situation with humor to drag you out of your hysterics. But he was the one that had gotten you to this place.

Sitting up you pushed yourself off his lap, a frown forming on his face from this action. You could feel the way your hands were starting to go numb as you wiped your tears, knowing there was going to be a confrontation with him.

“I called you for a week, Kelly. I called all the numbers multiple times a day and you didn’t answer. You didn’t call me back.” The way he frowned at this didn’t go unnoticed by you. You took it as a sign of his guilt. He had been ignoring you on purpose. “And I called this afternoon and a girl answered from your hotel room.” He stood up suddenly shaking his head.

“No, no, no.” You rolled your eyes at his weak attempt to lie about the fact you had spoken to a girl that was in his room, “Oh fuck, we didn’t even check into the hotel today. I was on the tour bus looking for the list of numbers you had written down for me.” He was digging into his leather jacket pocket looking for the yellow paper. You were trying to process what he was saying.

“But they said you were in the shower when I asked for you.” You said with a frown, trying to process what he was saying. It would be easy to believe him, tryst him blindly and forget all the drama but there were so many things that just weren’t adding up. He produced the yellow list holding it up with the missing pieces and wet pen running into a blurred mix of ink.

“Call the hotel now. I’m obviously here with you. Maybe they heard you wrong?” He knew you needed real proof. He looked at the phone on the floor that was off the receiver, “I tried to call you today. I guess this explains the busy signal.” He moved to hang it back up.

“I called you and you didn’t answer all week and you didn’t even call me once.” You pointed out. “You’re on tour with all your horny band members and I’ve been out with you all before.” You didn’t want to ask him because you knew that he would answer you honestly. He couldn’t lie to you, even on little things he was always 100% honest. Which you had found out one night when you tried on a new dress and asked how you looked and he had told you the dress looked like a rejected extra from a Cyndi Lauper music video.

“I lost the phone numbers when I was drinking with Phil one night. It took me a week to find them on the bus.” He confessed. That story seemed pretty on par for who they were, “And are you asking if I was stupid enough to cheat on you?” At the words you went white, gripping the sheets. Kelly took in your reaction and knew that’s exactly what you were thinking had happened. “Listen, Y/N.” He moved over to the bed gripping your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs and giving him a soft smile, “I love you. Just you. And I wouldn’t do anything to ever lose your love. I spent a week trying to find a paper just so I could hear your voice. I was waiting for you to call all week, baby. Why didn’t you call me?” The soft way he spoke was melting the ice in your veins, calming you with the right touches and bringing you to the current situation happening in real life and not just in your head.

“I called you so much. I called all the hotels that you told me to call. But you never answered me.” You pointed to a crumpled up ball on the nightstand. Watching him grab it and smooth out the page of numbers.

“Oh shit.” He rubbed his chin and looked up at you with an almost embarrassed look. You knew exactly what that look was. He had made a mistake, “So, um, these hotels are out of order. I must have copied them backwards because this one.” He pointed at the last hotel you had called today. “Should have been here.” He pointed a few up and you sighed in relief. The tears still came flowing out but this time in relief, “I’m an idiot. I’m sorry, baby.” He reached out, folding you to him. Your body was relaxed, allowing him to calm you with his back rubs and head kisses. Comforting you by holding you in his arms and reminding you that he loved you with his touch.

“I’m sewing my name and our telephone number into all your clothes tomorrow.” You muttered after a little while. He chuckled, kissing the top of your head.

“Next time, just come on tour with us. That way we never have to worry about playing phone tag.” You nodded your head listening to his heart beat. “We’re going to have to spend tomorrow morning unpacking your stuff. But I do respect your commitment to cut ties so thoroughly that you organized the records.” He got the laugh out of you that he was looking for. You sat up, shrugging your shoulders.

“I was just looking for an excuse to steal your Bowie records.” You teased him. He scoffed, pulling you to lay down beside him.

“I flew back here to be with you, Y/N. The least you could do is not threaten to steal my records.” Kelly pulled you close to him. “Do you feel better now that I’m back?” The concern in his voice warmed you to the core. You nodded your head at him. “Now you know you’re stuck with me and how wrapped around your finger I am.” You sighed out softly, eyes heavy as you felt like you could finally get some sleep after having a week of anxiety dreams and panic attacks preventing you from getting more than a tossing turning sleep for the week.

“Maybe next time send me a postcard to let me know you love me.” You said through a sleepy haze.

“Maybe I’ll train carrier ducks to send messages. Or learn how to do smoke signals.” A smile slipped out as you cuddled closer letting him lull you to sleep with his soft touches and soft mutters. He loved you, you could feel it. And that was all you needed

[pbandjesse]

I am bone deep tired. I hate it because I just want to be able to accomplish stuff. I haven't made anything this week. And that upsets me. Like I get it. I have a ton going on right now. I am just so busy all of the time and while work is great I am also just a little sick of being so tired.

I had trouble falling asleep again last night but it wasn't as bad as it has been. It was just to warm. Waking up was terrible. When my alarm went off I told James I just couldn't do it. And reset my alarm for 740.

I woke up right before it went off. I was still not feeling great but I got myself together. I got dressed. I grabbed a few snacks. I couldn't handle figuring out an actual breakfast or lunch. I grabbed my cup. And I left.

It was raining a little. And that's when I remembered I left my sweater in the council ring yesterday! It's gonna be all wet. Terrible.

So once I got to work I drove right up to the amphitheater but my sweater wasn't there. I was so sad. I figured it got taken by the feild trip ground yesterday by mistake. Disappointing.

I went back to the office to unlock the doors. And then drove up to Yukon.

I was looking forward to the organization of the basement. And it would be good but it was a little overwhelming at first. I put on a podcast and worked through almost 10 just moving things. Pulling out any material I thought we could repurpose or use up in arts and crafts. Or for any of the other specialty programs. But I was frustrated. One by the sheer amount of stuff. And two by the casual appropriative nature of so much of what's stored down there. I am jokingly (not jokingly) referring to it as the racism corner. War bonnets and questionable masks and costumes.

A little before 10 Sarah joined me. She asked if she could help or would she be in my way. And I asked if she could work on refolding and organizing all the bedding we have down there. And she did such a good job! It's also a shocking amount of stuff. We had to throw some of it away because it was just damp or to dirty to salvage. But she did an amazing job.

And while she worked on that I tackled the tipi kitchen stuff. I found about 8 boxes of stuff that I think they keep creating every year. So I emptied them. I sorted everything with like things. We have an embarrassing amount of silverware. Specifically forks and knives. Very few spoons. But at least it's all together now and hopefully more easily accessible for next summer.

Once that was done I moved all the empty boxes into the corner and sorted that to make it nicer. And then we moved the bedding boxes. The space is so much nicer now. You can actually walk around. I can't wait til everyone sees how good it looks.

Sarah loaded up her car with the materials I pulled. And we drove up to the art building. We stopped and talked to Joe and he said thank you for organizing Yukon and that made me feel good. He asked if we could add cleaning the tipi mattresses to the list so I will get that done soon.

After we unloaded everything we went and got the gator and started our next adventure. We had a package of frozen coffee concentrate to deliver to the dining hall. Then trash to be tossed. And mattresses to be counted.

We went to every building and counted all the mattresses and made notes about the covers and what would need to be replaced. We had to throw out some. But it was fun looking in every building. And we also got to see all the finished work from our projects. And saw some more we wanted to add.

We would head back to the office and took a half hour break. I ate some of my snacks. And read the graphic novel I brought. Which was really sad. But I'm glad I read it.

It was around 1 and we still had upper camp to count. We would also grab the trash from up there. We counted everything pretty quickly. And we were able to toss the trash and the. Go to the art building and start putting away materials and resetting my fibers boxes. I also told Sarah some stories about drama and it was fun. I like her company. She's a quiet spirit and I like that about her.

It was just about 2 when we were supposed to go to the office to wait for the wedding party to come and check in. But then they did not until like 3. It's fine. I worked on some stuff on my laptop. We chatted. And eventually Rachel and Dachelle joined us.

Dachelle coaches a lacrosse team and her students are going to a college game and were tasked with making posters. But they didn't get to finish. So Dachelle brought them to finish and we all helped.

We did get some pretty great laughs about some misspelling (hornts instead of hornets) and weird spacing and layouts. It was very silly. I was pretty proud of how I fixed the one I was given. Rachel always makes a big fuss when I make art but she does it like she's mad at me. So when I came out to show them she put her head in her hands and went "Jesus Jesse, you should look into being an art teacher." And then everyone was like you are going to make a children fight over your poster. High praise. I am glad they think the kids will like it. I did only give 4 legs to the one hornet so it's fine.

I said goodbye after that. And drove to taco bell. I thought it would be nice to get a taco or a crunch wrap. I got two potato tacos and nacho fries. Which were fine but I probably won't get again. I really liked the cinnamon bites the best though. Not shocked.

I went home and was surprised that I beat James. I would get a shower and try to not feel so tired. It was hitting me hard.

I thought I would take a nap and get some thing done. But then James got home and they seemed so sad that I got a spike of adrenaline and couldnt rest in any way that mattered. Instead I just laid in bed and watched videos. James would get cleaned up and joined me.

And that's how we spent our evening. Resting together. Painting our nails. I am really tired and struggling to get this all written so I can stop thinking. I really hope I can fall asleep quicker tonight.

Tomorrow is going to be very busy. I am back at the market for the first time in forever!! And then we have to rush to a wedding!! I love a wedding so I hope getting there goes smoothly. It's all the way in PA so we need to get on the road ASAP. James is taking a half day but it will still be a close one getting there on time.

So wish us luck. I love you all. Sleep good and be safe! Until next time

[jaylixjun]

last kiss

taylor swift song fic

fred x reader,george x platonic!reader sad),:

y/n looked at fred as they were talking in their bed laying down before they fell asleep. the room was dark but she still made out his face in the darkness. whispering their inside jokes and laughing about it. she looked at the muggle clock beside her. 1:58am it read.

“freddie, it’s almost two !” she whispered yelled

“so ?”

“you have work tomorrow !!”

“it’s whatever” he said going back into conversation with her .

she remembered that clear as day .

he had told her multiple times he loved her , so why did he leave her ?

she remembers the fresh smell of the rain as she got off the plane.

she couldn’t bear the heartbreak and would constantly see her self walking by the joke shop where her now ex love worked at .

she didn’t really know why he broke up with her, she thought they were fine .

july 9th, the day she moved in to her new home in a new place away from fred and far from the shop and everything .

as she was unpacking, she saw she accidentally brought one of freds jumper with her, or thats what she told herself. she hugged it tightly, still feeling his arms around her. she walked down the stairs her eyes never leaving the jumper. she wanted to toss it out, her arm stretching over the trash bin to throw it away but just couldn’t get herself to do it. instead she put it on. slowly backing back until she hit the wall and sat down on the floor, wearing his sweater.

did he miss her ? did he regret breaking up with her ? why did he do it ? all that ran through her mind

she let out a sob and placed her hand grazing her lips where fred once kissed her

she never thought they would share one last kiss

“fred…” she whimpered crying on the floor oh her kitchen

never did she think they would end , specially not like this .

..

she remember back to their time at hogwarts and everybody was excited about the yule ball.

fred and y/n always had something going on, despite her being ron’s age.

she didn’t expect him to ask her.

“i’m telling you now fred , i am NOT dancing, okay ??” she said emphasizing “not”

“we’ll see about that darlin’ “ he said kissing her cheek leaving her red faced there .

.

the yule ball was finally here. y/n had her beautiful dress that fit her perfectly, she felt utterly beautiful .

she walked down the stairs were fred was waiting for her. as she walked down, fred saw her, his eyes widened and his mouth opened. he always thought she was beautiful but he felt as he fell in love with her all over again .

“w-wow y/n you look- i mean you’re beautiful”

“why thank you” she said smugly as seeing him nervous for the first time, she took a bold move and kissed his cheek”you don’t look bad yourself”

fred didn’t say anything, just looked at her blushing, feeling his eyes about to pop out of his skull

“cat got your tongue ?” she said giggling

“shut up” he said letting out a chuckle before he returned to his normal self.

..

everybody was enjoying themselves at the ball, everybody dancing and jumping around, but y/n just sat on the chair eating a cupcake, she told fred she didn’t feel well to dance so she told him to go enjoy himself and not to worry about her. fred felt bad leaving her but george pulled him away.

y/n looked at fred showing off his dance moves to his friends making her chuckle, he was always the life of the party so it was no surprise to her. fred felt a gaze on him and spotted y/n looking at him, she quickly looked away feeling embarrassed but fred smirked , walking over to her.

“milady” fred said holding out his hand out for her

“no”

“pleaseee” he whined, still keeping his hand out for her

“fred, i don’t dance”

“just one, i swear”

y/n looked at him , his long hair as some strands fell into place like dominos(😉) , she couldn’t say no.

she rolled her eyes at him but a smile played on her face .

“fine” she replied and he immediately pulled her in .

it was not just one dance, they danced for the rest of the ball .

…

a few days later after the ball, the two began dating, they were always seen together.

which brings them one year later, fred was meeting y/n’s dad , he had already met her mom due to her being more understanding. fred was worried, he didn’t know what her dad would say about him and him dropping out of school .

“fredrick weasley?” he heard behind him starling him and quickly standing up

“that’s me” he said shaking his hand

“nice to met you mr.y/l, and you can call me fred if you’ll like”

“nice to met you too fred”

…

y/n thought back to how he always walks with his hands or his thumb inside his pockets and him not even noticing he would do it, she payed attention to him and everything her would do .

..

fred and y/n had recently gotten a flat together after the battle of hogwarts, y/n moved in right away with him after his near death experience and couldn’t leave him, not now, so she dropped out her last year and moved in with him .

she remembered how he would always kiss her when she was in the middle of a conversation .

he would always look at her like she was everything to him and would always look at her lips when she would talk , occasionally looking up to meet her eyes.

“we have to go pick up gin-“fred interrupted her by kissing her and held her face delicately with his right hand and leaving her stunned for a few seconds before she shook it off .

“fred ! were you listening !” she playfully raised her voice

“yes i was i swear !”

“as i was saying , we have to go pick up ginny tomorrow at te-“ he interrupted her again by kissing her

“fred !” she said as her cheeks turned red

“what ?” he played dumb

“did you hear me ?”

“yes, we have to go pick up ginny tomorrow at ten in the morning, i don’t get it , why can’t she just use the fire place or something”

“because we promis-“ he kissed her once again making her smile grow wide

“you’re impossible” she smiled at him and leaned in to kiss him

that was not the only time fred would do that to y/n, he started doing it right after they started dating .

oh how she missed those “rude” interruptions everyday

..

by this point, y/n face was flushed and eyes puffy and burning from crying, sitting on the kitchen clothes still wearing his “F” jumper on .

she got up but couldn’t take the jumper up, she slowly headed upstairs and turned on her shower, quickly undressing and taking a pain killer for her head as she looked at herself in the mirror judging herself, she didn’t even care that the water was too cold for her,she stilled hopped on and showered.

when she got out, she put on a comfy pair of pajama bottoms and put back fred’s jumper quickly getting on her bed and grabbing her blanket and hugging it tightly before she started crying again, eventually falling asleep, forgetting to start unpacking.

..

a month later into settling into her new house, y/n’s mind always wandered around and ended up thinking about fred. she kept herself updated about him and his shop. seeing pictures of him hurt, but somehow still wanted to see him. she recently had seen one of fred and george outside their shop, seeing him smile wide hurt, her eyes brimmed with tears as seeing him well , she felt selfish wanting to see him miss her like he missed him. she was so used to always seeing him right in front of her, now she watched him in pictures instead of her just being to turn her head and watch him sleep. the more she kept looking at his smiling face, she knew he forgot about her, she felt it, just how she would always feel him breathe..

…

a week later, y/n received an owl. she was surprised since she didn’t tell anyone where she was going in fear of fred finding out her location, not that she thinks he would care but still.

she opened it and saw she had more than one.

one from george, one from ginny and another one from harry .

they were all telling her how she missed her and want her to come back, she knew she couldn’t, she wouldn’t. she was still confused on how they found her location, guess she can’t stay away from wizards.

she eventually wrote back after a while.

she kept up with them after sending her first later after a while, knowing it wasn’t fair for them to be ignored by her by something out of their control.they eventually decided to meet up , and they did, a few times, they would apparate to her flat and have a cup of tea or go out for breakfast.

y/n saw george more often than the rest. her heart stinging when she saw him due to the fact of him being almost identical to fred, in her mind they still looked kind of different though.

“hellooo y/l/n !!!” a voice broke through her ears suddenly making her gasp and turn around with her wand up to the intruder.

“GEORGE !” she let out a sigh of relief seeing it was him, putting her wand down”you scared me you bastard !”

“ i know” he said while laughing pulling her into a hug

“don’t do that again !” she playfully smacked him making him dramatically pretend he was hit with a spell, causing y/n smile to fall a little as it reminded her of fred, but quickly returned back to her smile

“you ready ?” george asked .

“yess let me just get my wallet”

“nah it’s fine, don’t worry, lunch is on me y/n/n”

“what ? no way , let me go get it , it’s right upstairs i won’t take long”

“nonsense, cmon y/n it’s nothing”

“fine ! next time it’s on me though !”

“yeah yeah okay , on our way we go” he said as he opened the door for her and pushed her out .

…

after eating their lunch, george insisted for them to go get ice cream, and after a while of convincing her because she didn’t have her wallet, they went.

they were sitting down in a cute ice cream parlor having a conversation when she thought of bringing up fred, like she always did with any other of her friends when they spoke .

“s-so , george”

“yes ?” he said while grabbing a spoonful of y/n’s (favorite flavor)ice cream

“hey !” she said while stealing some of george’s ice cream too letting out a laugh .

“what were you gonna ask?” george said, sorta knowing what she was going to, he didn’t mind at all thought, y/n and fred been dating for years before they broke up and it hadn’t been long since they did, george didn’t tell y/n he was pissed at fred for doing so and didn’t even talk to him for a week unless it was necessary,y/n had always been george’s best friend and even cried when he found out she had moved away and didn’t know where she had gone, he strongly blamed fred for it but understood y/n needed her space.

“um yes, how’s you know who ?”

“voldemort? last time i checked he was dead, harry really did a number on that guy” he said trying to make her smile and smiled back once he saw it worked.

“you know who i’m talking about!”she laughed”fred..” but right as quickly, her smile disappeared.

“hey it’s okay” he said as he saw her eyes start to well up.

“i’m sorry” she apologized wiping her eyes.

“hey don’t apologize, it’s okay”

she nodded, waiting for an answer for her question .

george took a breath and blew out some air before answering

“fred, he’s well fred”he chuckled”he still gets in trouble when we’re with mum, he’s alright but you know, he still has his days,won’t want to come out his room or be grumpy all day, still finds joy in pranking ron . a few weeks ago, fred put spiders in his bed as bed bugs and ron freaked out! mum made him do chores as punishments and he knew he couldn’t get out of that one! ron tried to get him back but you know that never goes well , he wasn’t even fazed!”

“that sounds like them alright” y/n said, her mind going around the fact that he said fred would mop around his room, she though it was just normal because of his stress with work, george saw her thinking face and knew she was thinking about that part in particular but didn’t mention anything, unless she questioned it.

..

after an hour or so , george had to go back and took her back to her house, he saw how lost in thought she was and knew it was about what he said.

“thank you so much for coming georgie, i appreciate it”

“you’re so very welcomed y/n/n” he said giving her a hug”we all miss you, tons”

“i do too, tell them all i miss them too, well you know who and who to tell”

“i will, i’ll see if i can come back next week? of course only if you’re okay with that”

“yes yes of course! maybe even invite the others too, i haven’t seen them in a while”

“great! i’ll let them and you know then” he said kissing her forehead

“goodbye y/n! see you next week!”

“bye georgie and again thank you so much”

he saluted before apparating away.

y/n felt drained, she felt like she had to keep up her mood for george, it’s not everyday she sees him anymore and didn’t want him to feel bad. she hopes fred is doing all good, that it’s nice were he is,mentally and physically.

she hopes one day when he wakes up in a beautiful day, something reminds him of her and wished he had stayed with her instead of breaking up with her for an unknown reason to her, she hopes he plans on going back to her, still she never planned on him changing his mind about her and his future, their future.

y/n goes upstairs to her room and changes into comfortable clothes and takes off her make up, she didn’t plan on going out again that day.

she sees fred’s jumper calling her name and puts it on with no hesitation, she grabs his and her scrapbook and sits on the floor in his jumper.

she never thought they would kiss one last time, or that it would end like this, she always thought about that, she would always touch her lips and feel them let out his name in a shaky banter.

“fred….”

—

hello ! hope you all liked it !! i really want to write a part two about fred’s p.o.v !! i most likely will !!should i make them get back together ??! or should y/n move on !!! anyways, stay safe !!!

part two and three are up !

[awanderingdeal]

How about Nado meeting Kuny’s parents

Do with that as you please

Happy

Sad

I don’t mind

Love, Trash Monster :)

Hello Trash Monster! Thank you for your prompt. This one kind of got away with me and loved writing it. It’s actually rather angsty for me, but there is a happy ending. 

CW: coming out, homophobia (mentions of potential harm to queer people), food mentions, very minor sexual content 

Please let me know if you feel I need to add any warnings

Rating: T+ (sexual content is very minor, but the subject content is a bit heavy at points)

Credit for the sweater weather universe goes to @lumosinlove

"You know you don't have to tell them if you don't want to," Jackson grazed his thumb reassuringly over his boyfriend's hand where they were clenched together. They had been sat stiffly on the sofa for the last 20 minutes, waiting for the knock on the door that would announce the arrival of Evgeni's parents.

"I'm want," Evgeni sighed, his words barely a whisper. "I'm just scared. I don't know what they think. What if they hate me?"

Jackson clutched Evgeni's hand tighter, lifting it to his mouth to press his lips gently against his skin. "Zhenya, I mean it. I love you and I will still love you even if you decide you don't want to do this."

Evgeni shuffled impossibly closer, "I love you too, I'm sorry, I'm coward."

"Stop," Jackson frowned. "You are not a coward. This could get you arrested back home. Killed even. You are allowed to be scared." He let out a frustrated sigh, not aimed at his boyfriend, but at the world around him. "Look, how about we just see how things go. I'll follow your lead and there is absolutely no pressure to say anything to them. As far as they know, I'm just your housemate."

"Very good housemate," Evgeni chuckled, although his laugh seemed strained. "Okay, we play by ear."

"Where'd you learn that one?" Jackson teased gently. Evgeni was always dropping new words and phrases he'd learned, his smile quietly proud, and Jackson loved it. 

"I learn from Finn. We both complain about silly boyfriends speaking French and he teach me English," Evgeni explained.

"Hmm, I'm not sure this is a friendship I should be encouraging," Jackson gave a mock glare. 

"Too late," Evgeni smiled. It was a real smile this time, and Jackson felt like his next breath came a little easier than the last. "We go shopping together next weekend. He give good advice unlike you."

"I changed my mind, this is an excellent friendship," Jackson grinned. Evgeni opened his mouth, likely a clever reply on his tongue, but anything he had to say was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. 

Jackson couldn't understand the string of Russian that Evgeni muttered, but he'd have wagered a large amount of money that it wasn't positive. "Hey, relax. It's just your parents. You love them, they love you," he reassured, despite the growing bubble of anxiety in his own stomach. He'd met his Evgeni's parents a few times before, but it felt different now, even though they weren't aware that anything about their son's relationship with his 'housemate' had changed.

"I go now," Evgeni said as he stood, but the words seemed to be aimed more at himself than Jackson. He left the room muttering to himself and running his hands nervously through his curls. 

A minute later, there was a burst of noise. Jackson smiled, letting his breath out with a sigh of relief. Some part of him had decided the world was going to implode the moment the front door opened, but all he heard was the happy sounds of a child and parents being reunited.

"Jackson," Evgeni pushed through the door a moment later. "You remember my Mother and Father?" he asked.

Smiling, Jackson stood. This part was easy. He could be polite. He was Canadian, polite was in his blood. "Of course," Jackson nodded. "It's lovely to see you again, Mr and Mrs Kuznetsov. Evgeni has been looking forward to your stay." He offered his hand out for his boyfriend's mother to shake. 

"I tell you to call me, Yelena," the tall woman said, batting away his hand softly and pulling Jackson into a hug. "Evgeni only wants to see me for Syrinki," she pretended to whisper. Jackson opened his mouth to mention that he had in fact been learning to make the Russian dish so that Evgeni would feel a little less homesick, but reconsidered. The idea felt too intimate, too suspicious. Looking up briefly, he met Evgeni’s eyes, finding a sadness in them. Maybe he had been thinking the same. 

“Nonsense, even big boys like us need a hug from our mom’s from time to time,” Jackson finally settled on a reply. 

Yelena gave him one last squeeze, patting his cheek. “You’re a good boy, Jackson.”

He wasn’t sure if he was making it up, but the moment seemed significant. He looked at Evgeni again, but just received a shrug, so Jackson turned his attention to Mr Kuznetsov. The man really did not speak much English, so Jackson just waved and said, “hello.” The smile he got in return was almost identical to Evgeni’s. 

                                                           ***

It was now day 3 of the Kuznetsov’s week long visit, and Jackson was really starting to think something was up, he just couldn’t quite place what. They sat on the sofa, looking at some photography Mr Kuznetsov had taken. Jackson had been told repeatedly to call him Lev, but he still couldn’t do it in his head. It seemed like a perfectly ordinary thing to do, Mr Kuznetsov was very passionate about his hobby, but Mrs Kuznetsov kept making little comments that Jackson found quite strange. 

“This is church we get married in,” Mrs Kuznetsov explained, pointing to an unassuming, old looking building nestled between some trees. “Would you like to get married, Jackson?”

The question didn’t even throw him this time, just another example of the odd little elements that kept cropping up. The reasonable part of him wanted to chalk it up to an over curiosity, however he was not entirely convinced. “Yeah, one day,” he nodded, training his eyes on the photo so they didn’t wander to look at his boyfriend. 

“No have to be in church though,” Mrs Kuznetsov patted his hand, “not these days.”

Jackson wasn’t sure how to respond to that and thankfully, Evgeni came to his rescue muttering to his mother in Russian. Her reply was terse, but she slid her finger over the tablet screen to reveal the next photo. 

Things moved on smoothly, and soon Jackson was leaving the three of them. As nice as it was to get to know the family, he realised it was a bit awkward for Mr. Kuznetsov and Jackson liked to allow them to spend time together without feeling guilty about leaving him out. He had almost forgotten about the incident, until lunch time the next day. 

Jackson and Mrs Kuznetsov had made lunch together, which had been strange and yet oddly comfortable. He had realised midway through slicing carrots for the soup that it felt as if they had done this many times before. 

“Oh! I forget,” Mrs Kuznetsov clapped her hands together excitably, getting up from the chair she had just sat on. “I see a photograph in the newspaper,” she said, rooting around in her purse, making a small triumphant noise when she found what she was looking for.  

She placed the clipping down on the table proudly. The photo was of Remus and Sirius. “I think it funny that it in news all the way in Russia,” Mrs Kuznetsov chuckled. “The article was not so nice, so I just cut out photo. Make me think of you. Such nice boys they are.”

Jackson didn’t know what to say, so he just looked at Evgeni. However, his boyfriend was not looking in his direction, staring at his mother instead. Mrs Kuznetsov went about ladling soup into the bowls, humming softly under her breath. 

                                                           ***

It was the final evening of Evgeni’s parent’s stay, and Jackson couldn’t wait to truly release the breath he had been holding. The two older Kuznetsov’s were wonderful, but Jackson wanted to be able to touch his boyfriend, to use the affectionate endearments they had given one another and quite frankly, he was horny. 

That thought was ripped from his mind, by the commotion of Mrs Kuznetsov tripping and throwing her glass of iced tea all over Evgeni. Jackson didn’t know much Russian, but he recognised the swear word that fell from his boyfriend’s lips and the scolding he received from his mother didn’t need translating. Then she began gesturing towards the wet clothing, saying something that made Evgeni’s eyes widen. Jackson would forever maintain that the sound that came out of Evgeni’s mouth was a squeak. 

“Off, off,” Mrs Kuznetsov ordered, her voice firm.

Jackson sympathised with Evgeni’s reaction now. He cleared his throat, mumbling a comment about getting a mop and hurried from the room. On his return, he realised he hadn’t been long enough, finding Evgeni standing in just his underwear. He swore softly to himself, going about mopping the floor, trying his level best to look anywhere but Evgeni. It felt like forever before his mother took his clothing, muttering something about the washing machine. 

“Mama,” Evgeni called, just as she was leaving the room. She looked back, smiling softly and Evgeni took a deep breath. “Jackson is my boyfriend.” He looked at his father and repeated the sentence in his native tongue. Jackson couldn’t recall loosening his grip on the wooden handle, but the sound of the mop clattering on the floor pulled him from his shocked pause. 

“Zhenya,” he breathed. And in that moment, the monumentality of his words seemed to hit Evgeni. Jackson saw the panic cross his boyfriend’s features, tensing his muscles to go and offer comfort, but somehow Mrs. Kuznetsov got there first. There were tears in her eyes, and a thousand thoughts ran through Jackson’s mind. He wanted to console Evgeni. He wanted to assure Mrs Kuznetsov they were good people, that Evgeni was the same son he had been thirty seconds ago. 

“I am so proud of you,” she reached out to grasp Evgeni’s hand. “I wait all week for you to tell me.” 

“What?” The word came from Evgeni and Jackson simultaneously. 

“Evgeni talk you, like I talk Alyonushka,” Mr Kuznetsov smiled. The words were stilted and the accent heavy, but Jackson understood well enough. Evgeni’s cheek took a pink tint to them. 

“I know love when I see,” Mrs Kuznetsov wagged her finger at Jackson as if he was a naughty child. She gave a small sigh, looking between the two of them, “Russia not so nice. But you safe here in USA, and Russia get better. One day, you hold hands there too.” 

Jackson felt tears in his own eyes now. Not even the fact Evgeni was standing in only his underwear could ruin this moment.

“Go put clothes on. I tell story to grandkids one day,” Mrs Kuznetsov smiled. 

“Mama!” Evgeni reprimanded. His next words were Russian, but the embarrassed exchange between mother and son was universal. Jackson suddenly realised he could tell his own parents now, and that seemed both terrifying and magnificent. He wasn't at all worried about their reaction, but it still seemed big. Deciding those emotions could be left for another day, he let himself enjoy this moment.

[mirohlixie]

Never Enough (Hyunlix) Pt. 4

Pairing: Felix x Hyunjin Word Count: 2.1K Genre: AU, love, dystopia

Synopsis: In a world where being different from the conventional gender and sexuality rules means death, the gay youngster Felix struggles to hide his true sexuality. He is doing well until he meets Hyunjin, an undercover hitman hired by the government to get rid of all the "different" people in hiding. The moment the two meet each other, both of their lives change forever, but will it be enough?

Content warnings: AU, homophobia, discrimination against LGBTQ+, explicit language.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After that one day at Felix’s house, the two met up a lot more than they did before. They grew more and more comfortable being in each other’s presence and the awkward silences dissipated. It felt normal, like they’d been friends for years instead for only weeks.

They hung out at Felix’s house often, but also went elsewhere. Never to Hyunjin’s place, though. He’d come up with an excuse to keep Felix away from there, since he didn’t want him to see his mother like this. Worst case scenario, he would put two and two together.

Felix had no idea, though. He didn’t question it so much, because he didn’t want to make Hyunjin uncomfortable asking too many questions. It didn’t matter that much, anyway. As long as they had a good time together, he wasn’t going to complain about anything. He was already happy to have found a new friend.

Today they were sat in a booth at the most popular diner in town. They’d gone on a walk and gotten hungry, so decided to get a burger and some fries for dinner before heading home again.

It was pretty chill and the both of them were just talking and laughing as they ate, not really caring about the people around them. Now and then they checked to see if they were getting any weird looks, but so far people seemed to think they were just friends. Like we are, Felix thought to himself. We are just friends and we will be just that until… He didn’t wanna think about the end of that sentence. For now they were friends.

“I like this burger,” Hyunjin said, taking another large bite of the food. There was some ketchup in the corner of his mouth and Felix thought it looked adorable. Hyunjin’s face was so flawless otherwise and seeing this small blemish on it reminded him of seeing a little baby that has their food around their mouth.

“Mine’s pretty good too,” Felix commented, dipping a fry in ketchup. “I love the food they serve here, it’s all amazing,” Hyunjin nodded in agreement. He was poking at his half-eaten burger as he listened to Felix talk.

“If you think about it, life is kind of like fast food,” Felix started, not sure why he was even starting this analogy.

“How so?” Hyunjin asked, looking up at the freckled boy.

“Well, you start the road hungry and longing for the food, and then when it’s finally presented to you, you eat it fast and a lot of it, because you’re scared you won’t be able to still your hunger fast enough,” he explained. “But when you’re finished you feel gross and like you’ve eaten too much too fast. You should’ve enjoyed it more and taken more time, but you didn’t because you were too eager,” Felix concluded. “You’re eager to start life as a baby, then when you get the chance you live it to the fullest and forget to enjoy every moment. You wanna make sure you utilize every minute, but forget to cherish it. When your life is over, you have regrets because even though you had so much time, you didn’t do all the things you wanted to do, and even if you did, you didn’t enjoy them,” he stuffed another fry in his mouth before he could say more.

“Woah,” Hyunjin said, looking genuinely surprised.

“That was dumb, I’m sorry,” Felix said, looking down at his food in embarrassment. “I ramble too much.”

“No, no,” Hyunjin stopped him. “You don’t, it actually makes a lot of sense. You’re right. People are often so scared of not having enough time that they forget to enjoy every single moment. They are so obsessed with being practical that they forget to stop and look around every now and then. Just climbing that mountain in one go without looking back, or around them and when they reach the top they realize they’re exhausted and didn’t get to enjoy the climb,” Felix’s mouth fell open.

“Woah, that was a lot more impressive than mine,” he chuckled quietly. “I compared life to a hamburger and here you are pulling out a whole mountain climbing analogy,” Hyunjin blushed a little, looking at his hands, which Felix found adorable. “I loved it.”

“Really?” Hyunjin asked, snapping his head up.

“Definitely,” Felix said. “You should write lyrics. I’m sure you’d be great at it.”

“I doubt I’m as good as you,” Hyunjin chuckled.

“Everyone is better than me,” Felix argued.

“False, you’re the best.”

“Am not.”

“Are too,” Hyunjin wasn’t ready to give up whatsoever, Felix noticed, so he frowned.

“Hmph,” he said, pushing his bottom lip forward and pouting.

“Did you just hmph at me?” Hyunjin brought out a breathy laugh.

“Seems like it,” Felix muttered in disdain, wanting the older boy to just agree with him instead of arguing.

“Adorable,” Hyunjin said, smirking a little before grabbing another fry and dipping it in the ketchup. Felix looked at him with a bit of shock. He hadn’t expected that for an answer and clearly Hyunjin hadn’t expected to say it out loud. In his hurry to move on from this conversation, he accidentally knocked over the little bowl with ketchup in it, making it splatter against his white sweater.

“Fuck,” the older boy cursed, grabbing a napkin and staring at the drops of red sauce decorating the white wool.

“Don’t wipe it,” Felix quickly said. “It’ll only make it worse!”

“This is my favourite sweater,” Hyunjin said dramatically. “And now it’s all ruined, oh no!” He pouted as he carefully dabbed at the fabric, making Felix giggle a little.

“What are you laughing at?” Hyunjin questioned with a fake-strict tone. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No, no,” Felix quickly recovered. “I’m not I-”

“This is tragic,” Hyunjin continued. “My favourite sweater is spotted with ketchup and there’s nothing I can do to save it right now. This is a disaster, Lee!” His dramatic performance made the whole situation even more laughable and only seconds later the two were wheezing.

People surrounding them gave them weird looks as they took deep breaths, trying to recover from this moment. Felix took a large sip from his coke as Hyunjin wiped his face with the napkin. His face had been splattered with ketchup too in the process and the two simply hadn’t noticed due to the sweater incident.

“Ready to head home?” Felix asked, clearing off the table by putting the trash and leftovers away. “I’m sure I can find something to fix your sweater,” he looked up at Hyunjin, hoping he’d take up on the offer. He really wanted to spend even more time with him. Just the diner and the walk hadn’t been enough, he craved more time with his new friend.

“That would be amazing,” Hyunjin sighed in relief. “I don’t think we have anything at home that could fix this mess,” he looked at Felix and for a moment the latter saw the same hopeful glace the he’d just had a second ago. He nodded and grabbed Hyunjin’s sleeve, pulling on it gently.

“C’mon, let’s go then,” they walked back to Felix’s home, in hopes they could fix the mess that was Hyunjin’s sweater at the moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You house is kind of starting to feel like my second home,” Hyunjin commented as he walked into Felix’s house. He knew his parents well enough now and the same went for his siblings. Despite being absolutely ignorant, they were pretty nice. However, he found it sad that none of them would accept their son for who he really was if they’d find out.

But then again, he used to be like that too. He used to think these moles were the worst thing ever, and yet here he was hanging out with one on a daily base. He was nice, he wasn’t so different from the rest.

On second thought, yes, he was different from the rest. Felix was far superior to anyone Hyunjin had ever met. He was friendly, nice, funny, sweet and also beautiful. He was the purest person he’d ever had the chance to encounter. That really put things into perspective. Why judge someone for who they fall in love with, when it’s truly their character that matters? Why would you want this sweet boy dead when there’s so many murderers in the world? Then again, Hyunjin was a murderer himself. Not yet, but would be soon enough.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Felix said, smiling. “It doesn’t feel weird to have your around, almost natural,” the two sprinted upstairs, like they always did. Felix’s parents didn’t even question it anymore. They were so used to having Hyunjin over. “C’mon, sit down on the ledge of the bath,” Felix said as he dragged the taller boy into the bathroom. Hyunjin obeyed and sat down as he waited for the younger boy to work his magic on his beloved sweater.

He’d been dramatic back in the diner – something he was known for – but he’d really been sad about his sweater. It was his favourite after all. Felix came back with some stuff that looked like some kind of detergent and a clean cloth.

“I’m going to carefully dab this onto the stains,” Felix said before kneeling in front of Hyunjin. This was a new position for Hyunjin and he wasn’t used to having the boy this close to him in such a way. He tilted his head back slightly as Felix leaned even closer with the cloth in his hand, slowly dabbing the detergent onto the stains. He clearly hadn’t noticed their proximity as he was too focused on what he was doing.

“Almost there,” he mumbled, taking care of the last few spots as he worked his way up to the collar, where the very last drops had reached. Hyunjin had a very hard time moving his face away and could now smell Felix really well.

He smelled amazing; he’d never smelled anything like it before. He tried to be subtle about the smelling but that was hard. One wrong move and their faces would touch.

“Gotta be more careful next time,” Felix said as he turned his face up towards the taller boy. He clearly hadn’t expected to be this close to him, as he audibly inhaled and held that breath.

For a moment they sat there, eye to eye. None of them said anything, scared of saying the wrong thing, or making a wrong move. Hyunjin studied Felix’s face. His cheeks flushed pink as his brown eyes stay trained on his own. The freckles on his cheeks and nose were even more defined than they were from a distance and his hair fell in his eyes a little. He was the most beautiful human Hyunjin had ever seen from up-close. Then, after what felt like hours, Felix averted his gaze.

“Should’ve just let you take it off, that would’ve been easier,” he muttered, cheeks still flushed. The statement seemed to have more than one meaning, assuming from the way he’d said it.

“Maybe I should,” Hyunjin agreed. “May be easier anyway,” Felix nodded and Hyunjin took off his sweater, leaving him in a tanktop. He felt a little exposed as his eyes darted around the room. When he finally calmed down a little, he found Felix’s eyes resting on him. He bit his lip nervously, as his eyes scanned the figure in front of him. When he noticed that Hyunjin had caught him, he nervously looked at his feet, his face bright red.

Felix got up from his kneeling position, getting ready to walk away, probably to get rid of the tension. Hyunjin felt the cold air hit his bare arms, feeling like any kind of warmth he’d once felt was taken from him when Felix got up.

Without thinking, or even registering what he was doing, his hand shot up and grabbed Felix arm. The boy looked up in surprise and before either of then noticed what was happening, Hyunjin had pulled him back towards him, smashing his lips against the younger boy’s.

He heard a gasp from Felix’s lips, but it was only a brief one. Quickly after, his soft lips melted together with Hyunjin’s and they got caught in a kiss that was more intense than anything either of them had ever experienced.

Felix fell down to his knees and draped his arms around Hyunjin’s neck as the latter’s wrapped themselves around Felix’s small waist.

For a moment they didn’t care about anything in the world. All they perceived was the sparks igniting deep inside them as their lips touched. It was everything and more.