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soundofseventeen · 5 years ago

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Worldwide (Joshua Hong)

Hello! This is one that was requested by our lovely haley!! Mild throwback to our rusher days!! Have a lovely day everyone!! 💛💚

You sat on your couch, knees pulled up to your chest, staring at the package. You shouldn’t have this. You knew you should just put it back and then forget about it until Joshua got back again. But, your eyes kept staring at it, expecting it to burst into flames or open itself or do something.

Things with Joshua lately had been… rough. You knew you loved him, and you knew he loved you, but it had been a rough patch for you two. You both knew this relationship wouldn’t be easy. When was dating an idol an easy thing to do? You got to watch him flirt with fans and say sweet things to them, but you always reminded yourself that at the end of the day, he was looking at you. He came back to you.

But you also knew that he was tired, trying to juggle a growing career and a getting serious relationship. You knew the guilt he felt at not always being able to be there for you, no matter how much you reassured him that you understood he couldn’t always physically be there.

While you understood, you still couldn’t help the hurt that you felt. You always saw your friends out with their partners, giggling and swinging their hands, smiles on both of their faces. You couldn’t really do that either, even when Joshua was around. He kept the skinship to an extreme minimum when you two were out, not wanting to expose anything about you two.

You really loved Joshua, and he really loved you, but you knew you were both tired. You had this rock in the pit of your stomach, wrapped in fear that the end may be soon.

He had just gotten back from tour, one that had been really long for both of you. You two had a weird air, Joshua giving you a tight hug before leaving and promising to be back soon. Once he got home, he basically dropped off his stuff, and then immediately had to go back to Pledis for some work emergency. He gave you a quick kiss, saying he needed to talk to you when he got back.

You made it through most of the tour okay, but Joshua saying he needed to talk to you now? Terrified you. Considering he barely contacted you during the tour? You kept telling yourself he was busy, he had a lot to focus on while on tour. But now you were wondering if that was intentional? Did Joshua not need you? Was this tour a test to see if your relationship was something worth fighting for? Did he determine that he had to make your worst fear come true?

So you distracted yourself until he came home. You cleaned your kitchen. You vacuumed. You read a couple webtoons online. You then decided to start unpacking his stuff, something you debated for a while. Because if he was going to break up with you, he would want to take his stuff with him, right? But why would he bring his stuff here if he was planning that?

You had just started unpacking when you found the package. It was a simple brown package, with twine holding it together. As you picked it up, you saw your initials on the tag, causing you to furrow your eyebrows at it.

And now you were in your living room. Staring at the package. Wondering what it was.

If Joshua wanted to give it to you, he probably wanted to be here to give it to you. But man, your curiosity was killing you. Was it a good thing? Or was it a goodbye thing?

You jumped as your phone rang, seeing Joshua was calling you.

“Hey.” You answered, hearing Joshua sigh.

“Listen, I’m so sorry. I might be a little later than I planned…”

“Really?” You asked, pouting.

“I’m so sorry. Please go to sleep, we can talk in the morning, okay? Just get some good rest.”

“Joshua…”

“Hey, I am coming home tonight. I promise.” He said, you letting out a sigh. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You muttered, Joshua sighing himself again.

“Get some rest.” You both hung up the phone, your eyes going back to the package. You shook your head, reasoning that you would have to wait until the morning to find out. You got up, changed into pajamas and got ready for bed. You sat in bed for about 10 minutes, before you got back up, walking towards the living room. You sat on the couch, pulling the package onto your lap. You took a deep breath, opening the side of the package and pulling the contents out.

It was… letters. A bunch of letters. A small stack of letters. Each one with your name on it. There was nothing else on any of the envelopes, just your name.

You made a quick decision, making yourself some tea and grabbing a blanket, settling into the couch, picking up the top letter, slowly opening the envelope.

Dear Y/N,

Hey uh. How’s it going? How was your day? I’m not really sure why I’m doing this. I could just call you right now, but I thought I would try this? I don’t know, this is probably silly. But I guess it’s romantic, huh? Anyway, we just took off this morning. I always hate the look on your face when we have to leave for tour, but today it seemed so much worse. I guess that’s part of the reason I’m doing this. I really hope you have so much fun until we get back. So much fun that you have more stories to tell than I do.

God, this was a dumb idea. xJoshua

Hey Y/N,

It’s been a few days since we left now, and I just found the first letter in my bag. I still feel silly doing this, but oh well. Maybe you’ll think it’s cute or something. I’ve been thinking about you a lot the last few days. We found this dog while going to get coffee yesterday morning and I took a picture with him to show you later. I almost sent it to you, but then I remembered the time difference and didn’t want to chance waking you up. I did get the picture of you at our favorite restaurant. It made me smile from ear to ear that you ordered my favorite dish there instead of yours although your friend ratted you out and told me you also ordered your favorite to take home haha. At least you’re eating well while I’m gone! We have our first concert tonight, don’t worry, I’ll take your necklace on stage with me. It is my lucky charm, after all.

This is still dumb. xJoshua. I’m not writing another one.

Y/N my own true love who I love more than Jeonghan Hello Y/N,

So Jeonghan found my other letters. He is now making me write more of these because HE thought it was adorable. Also, excuse the crossed out part. I only have so much paper and I refuse to let Jeonghan win like this. We’re in another new town this morning, some of the guys want to go to a carnival later. I’m still debating on going or not. We don’t have the concert until tomorrow night, but traveling is tiring and I kind of want to sit by the pool for a while (yes, I’m at a pool, are you jealous? ;) ) I know if you were here, you would tell me to go with them. Just to get your voice out of my head for a bit I might go. Remember when we went to that fair? You were so cute trying to win me that stuffed tiger. I kept telling you that I was supposed to win you something since I took you on the date, but you just stuck your tongue out at me and told me to shut up. I’m pretty sure that was the day I knew I loved you.

Ugh, I can’t show you these ever. xJoshua

PS. I went to the fair. I won you a tiger. Suck it. <3 (It’s pink)

Dear Y/N,

I’m sorry I called so late last night. I guess my timezone math was still a little off. I just needed to hear the sound of your voice for a bit. At least I got to kind of tuck you in, right? Even if it was on the phone. I’m starting to get into a habit of doing this. I still feel silly, but it’s getting easier, I think? Hosh hasn’t come back from DK and Jeonghan’s room yet, so I’m just in our room by myself right now. The moon is huge tonight. You would probably spend an hour trying to get a picture of it. I just tried, it’s not great but it’s a decent picture? No it’s bad never mind I even cracked the window open in your honor. It’s so weird. Remember how I always complained about you wanting to have the window open at night? I never understood how you slept with the cold air and the traffic noise, but it’s actually helping now. It’s not great since you’re not here to cuddle with, but it makes me think of you. Hosh usually shuts the window at some point in the night though. I promise when I come back, I’ll let you keep the window open every night if you want.

Of course, I’m never actually showing you this, so we shall see. xJoshua

Hey Y/N,

You are not going to believe this! You remember that old hand lotion you used to have? The one that smelled like honey? The one that when you ran out and we went to the store to get more and they told you it was seasonal and you cried? I FOUND IT. We were in a shop and I smelled it, so I asked the girl working about it and she showed it to me. It was a different little tube than the one you had, but I swear it’s the exact same scent. I can already picture how excited you’ll be when I give it to you. I’m half tempted to just mail that to you, but I also want to keep it with me until I get back. Then I can see your face when you smell it. I miss you a lot. More than you think.

Only a couple more weeks. Then I’ll be home. xJoshua

Y/N,

A carat asked about you today. I was not prepared at all for that. I mean, yeah, they know about you and everything, but I was not prepared to be asked about you. They didn’t ask anything bad, just that they wanted to know how you were and if I missed you while on tour. Kind of a weird question to ask at a fanmeet but whatever I guess? I told them you were doing well and that I was looking forward to being able to see you in 2 weeks. I at least hope you’re doing well. I’m sorry we keep missing each other this week. Between my schedule and yours… We just can’t line up at all, huh? God, this almost feels worse now that I’m almost home, you know? Like, we’re so, so close but still so far away. I can’t believe I didn’t notice how distanced we’ve been. I don’t know how. You were always there for me when I needed you and now that I can’t come see you after a long day… I don’t know. You know I’m yours, right? No matter where I go or who I meet even the fans you constantly point out as pretty, which I don’t know why you keep doing that to yourself because I still stop breathing when I see you or what happens, you’re my one and only. If anything this tour just made me realize that whether it’s Paris or London or Tokyo all places I want to take you, by the way, I’m going to think about you worldwide.

I can’t wait to see you. I can’t wait to catch you and never let go. xJoshua

P.S. That carat earlier also told me about this candy store and I may have bought you different flavors of that one candy bar you like. I hope they taste good.

Y/N!

I’m home now well, at Pledis but I felt like these needed a conclusion. Not sure why, because I’m still not sure you’re ever going to get them. But it felt weird to just… end? So I gotta write this I guess. I managed to get the next few days off because some guys are going home for family and such, and I intend to annoy the living hell out of you. I gotta make up for lost time, right? Hopefully we can pick up right where we left off. I plan to get those spicy noodles you love on the way home. That will be a good start to our days together. I can’t wait to remind you just how much I love you. I’ll even listen to you read those gross cheesy books you like to read I don’t know if you know this but you make the cutest face when you find something cute you read and it makes my heart just U W U We’re getting called into a meeting now, but I’ll be home in a few hours. I love you.

Maybe these letters weren’t a terrible idea. You still might not get them. xJoshua

Joshua smiled to himself, picking up the envelopes with folded paper inside. He glanced at you, sound asleep on the couch, the last letter barely hanging from your hand. He looked over your face, examining softly. You looked tired. He wished you had just gone to bed, but he also knew that he probably gave you reason to be afraid of him wanting to have a discussion with you.

He carefully took the letter out of your hand, chuckling a bit as you kept a hold on it. He got it eventually, shaking his head and he put it back in its envelope and tossing it on the table with the others. Joshua then stood up, stretching his arms over his head a bit before reaching down to pick you up. He was going to let you keep sleeping, but he might as well move you to your bed so you wouldn’t hurt in the morning.

As he was part way down the hall, he heard you start to mumble. He stopped walking, looking at you with your eyes still closed.

“..Shua?” You mumbled, Joshua chuckling again.

“I’m here.” He whispered, not sure if you had actually woken up or if you were talking in your sleep.

“Is it morning?” You mumbled, Joshua smiling at you.

“Not quite, but almost.” He said, finally getting to your room. He carefully opened the door, leaving it open as he walked in.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, eyes starting to blink open a bit.

“I’m done with work for the day.” He said, pulling back the covers and laying you down, pulling the covers back and tucking you in. He sighed, thinking about how he had waited to do that for so long.

“Mhm.” You said, your eyes falling again. Joshua just smirked, brushing some of the hair from your face before getting up to get ready for bed himself. Once he was ready, he walked to the other side of the bed, crawling in himself and letting himself relax. He felt you poke his arm, causing him to turn his head. You were looking at him, eyebrows slightly together.

“How was the tour?” You asked, Joshua just smiling at you.

“It was great, but we can talk about it in the morning, okay?” He said, turning to face you. “Get some sleep.”

“What time do you go in tomorrow?” You mumbled.

“Didn’t you read the last letter?” He asked, you shrugging.

“I fell asleep at the start of it.” You said, snuggling a bit into your pillow.

“I have off the next couple days.” He grinned as your eyes widened, head picking up a bit. “Yeah, you’re stuck with me now.” He laughed, you letting your head rest again.

“Oh my.” You said, a slight smile on your face. You snuggled into Joshua a bit, which he happily accepted. “So, did you miss me?” Joshua placed a kiss on your head, holding onto you.

“You know I thought about you worldwide.”

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 5 years ago

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anyone wanna hear the story of how i found out supernatural was ending and proceeded to have the worst morning of my life?

(super-excessive rambling ahead. do not read the whole of it.)

so i don't remember the date but it was the day of my english 10th board exam. boards are like a series of subject finals, kinda the biggest exams conducted in a student's education in india, plus they're nationalized. so yeah, a massively big deal, and obviously the first thing i do waking up on this massively important day is open tumblr. there are about seventy messages and i'm confused cause i think i barely "talked" to ten people back then, but before i've even checked them out, the first post i see is a textpost about how the longest running joke universally across fandoms is that 'spn has been going on way too long and needs to end' but now that it is ending, all people can do is cry about it. for some reason, i don't process that post as fact™, assuming they mean a general "ending" instead of a "j2m announced last season" ending. anyways i move on to my messages, and all of them are people who've freaking the fuck out for at least a few hours (the advantages of being in a timezone different from of most people) and i go to my activity, still stunned, and someone's tagged me in a meta of some kind, and i check it out completely dazed and it's got gifs (already!) of the three of them standing there with teary eyes and jensen actually saying the words everyone had been screaming about in the chats, and it finally hits me that it's ending, supernatural is ending, it's going to be OVER, and it's already been decided when. obviously, the tears start, and literally crying in my bed, still under the comforter, i think i watched the video twice, without headphones in fact, which is extremely weird because i virtually NEVER do that, but as if anything else mattered at the moment!

i don't remember what all i felt in those moments but one of the thoughts that REALLY stood out was that i wish, wish, wish it lasted just one more year — so maybe supernatural could end at the same time as highschool ended for me, and it'd feel like the end of a phase of my life, but no, according to what they predicted (and not even kidding, now it's even worse) supernatural was going to end smack in the middle of senior year for me, obviously a super important, super stressful year, and god, i wished so hard it'd just go on ONE MORE YEAR somehow but look what happened now it's ending like three months before my college entrance exams and the competitive engineering exams and shit which is just absolutely perfect because it's doing wonders to my attention span and mental health and yeah i'm getting off topic i'm gonna come back to the topic now

it's two am rn and i'm weirdly tired of typing so what happens next is fucking wild, but i'm gonna hurry because i need to go cry some more into a pillow or a ao3 tab or something. so like a whole HOUR later i get up from bed. i've got to get dressed and shit, most important exam of my life YET and everything. so i start brushing, obviously scrolling through tumblr, obviously failing to not cry, and my mum walks in, and she doesn't know a thing about supernatural (even if she did, she would consider the idea of me crying over them announcing an ending RIDICULOUS) so she just assumes i'm sniffling and tensed up because i'm STRESSED and she tries reassuring me like i need fucking reassurance for ENGLISH of all things. anyway anyway anyway i have maggi for breakfast i think and i'm still pretty out of it and stuff but i get dressed in my uniform and put on the fucking blazer though its HOT outside but i like wearing the school blazer for exams but i underestimated how much of a physically draining effect the news and reacting to it would have on me, so then there's me sweating literal buckets and then we set off.

we're already late in leaving the house (why, i don't remember) and once we're at the centre, and my parents have dropped me off and wished me luck, i go to the gate, right. and THEN the guard gestures to my uniform and tells me i'm missing my fucking class ID. now i know i'm late so i panic on cue because shit shit shit i'm gonna be even more late, and i legit turn and look for mum and dad (we weren't allowed to carry our mobiles for the test) and what i see is that they've reversed the car and are about to drive out the gate and obviously my brain isn't really working so i fucking RUN AFTER THE CAR, like, i'm really not an athletic person, i avoid running as much as i possibly can, and i fucking lose my shit and chase the car down in like ten seconds of running cause it's only like ten metres away actually but the highlight of it all is that i run. in a public space. unprompted. with a shitload of emotions and anxiety and panic, and i basically almost sob in relief when dad immediately stops the car and pretty much pulls me in and tells me to stop worrying cause the house is like ten minutes away and i might miss the general waiting part and stuff but i wasn't gonna miss the exam. so THEN we start driving back and obviously because they are who they fucking are, they start arguing about which of them is at fault for this and who was supposed to check in on me carrying my seriously important ID and other crap, and then obviously they're yelling and that does even more wonders for my state of practically hysteria, but i hold it together until we get home and i get the ID (which is on the bed, probably was under my blazer or something) and we set back off, and i know we're late, and i know supernatural is ending, and i know it's going to take a part of me really, and mum and dad just won't stop yelling at each other about god knows what, and i manage to squeeze in the first time in SO many years that i cry in front of my parents right there in the backseat, and they're sort of stunned because i really don't cry (in front of people) and then there's just me losing it in a mixture of helplessness and nerves and anger for some reason and just. whoa.

ANYWAYS we get to the centre (in time for the exam, but like fifteen minutes later than i SHOULD have gotten there) and dad talks to the teacher and stuff and it works out because obviously it's a really important exam they're not going to make me skip it, and i go straight to my classroom — also did i mention these exams aren't held in our own schools but like, different test centres, so basically a different room and desk each day in a different school from mine, ugh, i hate new places — and i find out i have the FIRST bench of the second column which lowkey sucks because it's too public really, but at least my best friend's sitting like diagonally from me on the left, and my friends are basically sprinkled around the classroom as well and i see them eyeing me worriedly cause they were scared i might miss the exam but also because i was a MESS with bloodshot eyes and an outofit look in them and did i mention i was sweating like a dog all this time wearing a blazer because i'm just that idiot because yeah.

so then i calm myself down the best i can. sitting under a fan helps, taking off my stupid blazer helps, and seeing dish (beforementioned best friend) helps — because apparently she heard about the ending too (she's not in the fandom she just keeps up with news for my sake, yes, im very lucky to have her) and tries to cheer me up about it, but then it's time for the paper, and they give them out and...yeah.

three hours later, the exam ends, and i step out of that hall the most mentally exhausted i've been in YEARS. also i swear off tumblr until i've had lunch and napped and stuff because i was also functioning on extremely little sleep but i really think that part was obvious.

as it goes, i ended up getting a 95% in that paper :)

but to this date, my sister jokes about how i ended up getting my personal least marks of that year in english of all subjects which was supposed to be of my strongest suit heh all because of a six-ish minute video released in a different part of the world about something that wasn't even going to happen that year...and like. yeah.

that's it.

that's the story.

#you're advised not to engage #this gets long and messy #even though it's something i'm not mad about rn #but dee thought this would be a good way to release the sheer weight of supernatural ending tomorrow off my heart so yeah #i ranted my ass off #tw rant #ish?#personal #to delete

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bang-to-the-tan · 5 years ago

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Lullaby

Oneshot

Reader x Min Yoongi

► Soulmate!AU

Comfort

Warnings: None

Words: 2K

↳ Summary: He can’t sleep when you’re awake, crying over the things you aren’t.

why hello readers yes i am hyperfixating away from my problems why do you ask

@teawithkpop and I had a discussion concerning vaguely psychic BTS that in one eight-hour work shift turned into a full soulmate AU in my head. I made myself cry writing this. (psst, this song goes really well with it, especially once he gets on the balcony)

Please enjoy, and don’t forget to love yourself.

You’re crying again.

The sensation of tightness in his chest, head pounding—this feeling so like drowning sinks claws into Yoongi’s dreams, coiling about his neck until he can’t breathe and suddenly he’s staring at the muted darkness of his room, watching his mind carve whirling shapes into the shadows. His mind reels with phantom pain, heartache that isn’t his, a tight throat and burdened soul that don’t belong to him. He feels sick.

Except, and this is always the weirdest part, that he doesn’t.

Instead, he blinks, eyes heavy, and fumbles for his phone, arm made of granite. The screen is too bright in this darkness, and it takes a moment of blinking, squinting, frowning, before the symbols spearing their way through his retinas make any kind of sense. 2:37 AM.

Holding his hand out in this position is something of a task and its job done, he allows his arm to drop limply to the covers, his head following suit with a short breath of exasperation. It isn’t your fault. He never blames you. He knows you don’t know about the day he’s going to have to have tomorrow. The promotions he’s been getting ready for, the difficult and involved choreography he’s learning.

And even him knowing his own schedule doesn’t mean he’ll be going back to sleep anytime soon. Not like this, not with you rending yourself in two in his head. So, he gifts himself one more moment of stubborn sprawling, playing like he’s still sleeping to a dark and empty room.

You’re crying harder now. He can feel it, that wracking, all-encompassing sense of the world crumbling underneath your feet. The fear of falling, the desperate clawing for any kind of hold on a surface that dissolves in your fingers. This time, the twinge of his heart is his own, twisted with pity and longing. Always longing.

Mindlessly determined now, he kicks his legs out from under his covers and crawls off the bed one limb at a time, swaying to and fro. The lights in the hallway are too bright to be turning on at this hour, so he navigates by the glow of various electrical devices in his apartment, ambling his zombie-like way to the kitchen.

2 in the morning is a little early for you. Or possibly late. He doesn’t really know—despite that week or so where he’d managed to convince himself that he’d pinned your timezone down. He flicks the kettle on, fumbling for a mug through the cabinets, some tea, still musing absently, half-asleep, on you.

He thought he was dying when it first happened.

Halfway asleep one late night, just before he drifted off on top of his covers, phone in hand. His chest suddenly swelled with such immense joy that he actually cried. After the initial shock, the fear of actually, finally, going clinically insane, he elected to ignore it. Told no one, hoped if he just forgot it happened, then nothing would have to come of it. A few days later, he nearly jumped through his ceiling with a sudden flash of anger, red-hot, searing its way through his lungs like righteous fire, first thing in the morning. The warlike shout that had forced its way out of him tore his voice asunder and made recording that day incredibly difficult and awkward to explain. You really have a penchant for experiencing extreme emotion around his bedtime. He’s already made the mental note to berate you for it, once you finally meet.

Once he finally meets his soulmate.

The doctors had reassured him that it was actually shockingly normal for celebrities to unintentionally ‘awaken’ their soulmates before either was aware they existed. It’s just a numbers game, they’d said. If you’re plastered across screens and billboards all around the world, eventually, one of the millions who pass by it is going to be yours. And having seen him, somewhere, sometime, you’d been bound to him. Emotional telepathy. The first step in ‘total soul connection’, or whatever it was they’d called it. Anytime you felt anything strong, anytime you experienced something important, it bled through to him, in the form of unchecked, unbridled feeling.

Jimin had helped him in trying to narrow the timeframe, chasing this frantic energy that possessed him in the beginning. This manic desperation to find you, culminating in long fingers dug into his hair so hard he could have pulled his brain through the strands, eyes squeezed so tightly shut it hurt, curled into a ball at his dining room table and fighting back the urge to cry until he died from it. He’d spent three days tracking his group’s popularity from when he’d first felt you, and ended up with nothing but a sour taste in his mouth and a sick feeling in his stomach at the impossible unfairness of it all.

Yoongi nearly falls asleep on the counter waiting for the water to boil, jumping violently at the click of the tab coming back up. He pours it into the mug, smacking his lips absently, running a sluggish hand through his bangs to try and shift them out his already limited vision. The room fills with the thick sound of water, the smell of fresh tea. He takes a minute to appreciate how nice it smells, whole body stilling, eyes closing, concentrating. A beat passes.

He opens them, tiredly, sniffing once and reaching for the mug. It’s warming against his palm, radiating heat down his hand, his arm. There’s a soft, nearly threadbare blanket draped over the back of the sofa that he collects as he shuffles towards the balcony. He pauses to force his feet into the slippers by the door before he slides it open, deciding he could just as well fix them once he’s sitting down. They flop stubbornly against his toes as he walks, situated just barely off from fitting right.

It’s a gorgeous night. Morning. Whatever. The temperature is mild, the air feels almost warm, and the breeze that passes through is gentle. It threads careful hands through his hair, kisses his cheeks, bringing with it the dusky scent of night.

He slides the door shut behind him, shutting him off from the apartment and completely baring him to the view of Seoul’s cityline in the distance. Lights glittering across the river like stardust, casting heretical flares into the velvet above. Buildings rising from the horizon like shadowy hands, reaching out to grasp the heavens in their palms. And all of it reflected in the water, an imperfect mirror of black glass throwing the sleepless eyes of the city back in its face.

The company had assured him it was perfectly normal to want to find his soulmate, especially now that you’d awoken to him. But it just wouldn’t be feasible. Not now. Not with how things are. He told himself that he would’ve quit on the spot, but he’s far too practical for that kind of thoughtless drama. And if you were really his soulmate, he knew you’d understand.

Instead, he scanned every set of eyes he could in every crowd. Played leapfrog through social media sometimes, when the longing in his chest was especially loud. He had no idea if he’d seen you already. Sometimes, especially when he felt ugly things, he wondered if you were there with him. If you waited for him like he waited for you, chasing ghosts and always doubtful whether you were even going in the right direction.

He’d attempted to be casual about writing a song for you, but it took very few words slinking out between numb, awkward lips before Namjoon immediately saw straight through him. Good ol’ Rational Namjoon smiled that soft smile of his and told him with that soft voice of his that Yoongi would send all the world into a panic, writing a song like that. He’d end up with enough “soulmates” to populate a small country. And beside, it wasn’t something he could do without passing it underneath the company’s scrutiny and catching flack for trying to sneak. So for now, it seemed, he’d just have to sit here and miss someone he’d never met.

The next pang that screams through him shakes him the worst of all, to his core, and it comes close to taking him out at the knees as he moves to sit on the chair he set up out on the balcony when he moved in. He physically winces at the sensation, grip tightening on his mug, other hand digging blunt, anxiously chewed fingernails into the wicker of the chair’s arm. Hate. It’s hate that you’re feeling now. Yoongi knows it too well, it bleeds into his own emotions, muddles the line between you.

The excitement you’d clouded his senses with last week made him grin for an entire day, your heart beating inside his ribs like a caged bird.

The fear from a month ago sent him into a panic, had him packing a suitcase before he’d given pause to the fact that he doesn’t even know where you are. (Hoseok talked him down from that one; popular theory was that you’d been thrillseeking. Watching a horror movie or riding a rollercoaster. Yoongi wasn’t entirely convinced until you ‘checked back in’ a little later with a deeply satisfied feeling of content. He’d breathed a sigh of relief that felt like the first time he’d tasted oxygen in all his life.)

But this emotion has a texture to it that feels all too familiar against Yoongi’s teeth, coiled around his throat. Self-hate. You aren’t just crying, you’re losing a battle against yourself. And not for the first time he wishes more than anything that you could be here. With him. Where you belong. Where he could take you into his arms and promise you that you are so much stronger than your shadow. Where he could take up a light of his own and help you chase that darkness away, as best he could, at your side. Where he belongs.

He blinks up at the sky, as if he could watch your thoughts chasing his in the night. He takes the blanket, wrapping it studiously around his legs, tucking it into the sides, bundling up until he’s warm and comfortable and safe. He takes the mug in his hand, sips gingerly at the tea that’s still just a little too hot to drink steadily.

Yoongi looks out over the river, watches it ripple and sparkle, counts the airplanes, satellites, crawling across the domed sky. He notices how beautiful it is. How warm he feels. Secure.

He has no idea if he’s seen you yet. He doesn’t know if you can feel him.

He closes his eyes. He focuses on how he feels content. Safe, and happy. Tea on his lips, you on his mind, hope in the palm of his hand. The world with his voice perched on its tongue, waiting for a new day to share with him.

He has no idea how long he sits there.

You calm slowly, painfully, clawing first by force into exhaustion. Your emotions, bleeding and ragged and so, so tired, but triumphant for one more night, trail slivers and snippets through his mind as you begin to fade from his grasp.

You leave him alone on his balcony, set against a backdrop of manmade stars. His tea has gone cold in his mug now.

He sends you one last reach, one last sliver of soft comfort, one last shared moment of pride in your strength, before he gives up. He yawns, decadently wide, and shifts upwards to head back inside, the blanket dogging his steps like he were a weary king with a crown of lead.

#reader x yoongi #bts fluff #bts soulmate au

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shrapnelsong · 4 years ago

Text

@honedtalent asked: “Did you touch yourself, thinking of me?” [ Sunday Special Starters & Symbols ]

With traveling all around the world being an integral part of both their jobs, keeping track of timezones could get quite difficult after a while. Alice was up late, having an important meeting with a client who happened to be in yet another timezone altogether. What upset her the most; however, wasn’t the fact that she was further messing up her sleep schedule, but rather that she was missing one of Tooru’s matches. As soon as the call was over, she pulled up the live feed and managed to see the last few plays, smiling at the sight of his team celebrating.

Sighing quietly, she brought the documents she needed to look over to bed with her and flopped down onto the mattress, reaching for her phone by the nightstand to take a quick selfie and send it his way. [ Congratulations! I only caught the last few minutes, but I’ll watch the entire match tomorrow. Have a goodnight, baby ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁) ]. With a small smile, she set the phone away and started reading. Being tired but not quite sleepy wasn’t the best frame of mind to go through important documents with, but she could at least get a head start. She was turning the page when a notification had her checking her phone again, opening a message from him and very nearly dropping the device.

[ Thanks, babe! I’ll talk to you later, then. Don’t work too hard! ] was a nice, sweet message to receive while working overtime. But the selfie that came with it had a different mood to it altogether. Tooru was still in the team’s uniform, standing in front of a mirror that showed a large bathroom behind him. He was probably about to go take a shower - the last one, if she had to guess by the fact that he was proudly making his long, thick bulge even more apparent with one hand and holding his sweaty top up to reveal his sculpted abs with the other. And if that wasn’t enough, the look on his stupidly handsome face was one she knew well... One that said I know you want it, but you’ll have to beg for it.

With a big sigh this time, Alice put away the documents and got comfortable in bed instead. Shifting so she was on her side, she looked over the picture again, biting her lower lip. They hadn’t seen each other face to face in a while. Surely she wasn’t the only one feeling this needy. To the point where one suggestive picture of him could take over her brain entirely and leave her incapable of thinking of anything else. So much so that she only realized how long she’d just been lying there pressing her thighs together when another message came in almost half an hour later.

[ Did you touch yourself, thinking of me? ]

Her breath caught in her throat for a second, excitement making her stomach flip. She wanted him so badly, to kiss him, feel his hands on her flesh, have the smell of him lingering on her skin. He knew the effect he had on her, and most of the time, he also knew how she would react to his teasing. Because of it, instead of sending him another message and asking if he was home already, she simply hit the call button, heart racing as it connected and he picked up.

“Not yet.” She answered without even greeting him, wishing she could have seen his face. Was he surprised? If yes, would her punishment be for pleasantly catching him off guard or for being too daring? Either way, just thinking of it was making her wet. But that was just the beginning.

“Can I..?” Alice asked in a breathy, almost trembling voice, hips squirming as her insides clenched needily. Usually he was the one asking questions and giving orders, so taking the initiative and beating him to it came with a high of its own. And when he did break the stunned silence to give her permission with a hum... it felt incredible too.

Rushing at this point would be a disservice, so she took her time. Sinking her fingers into the softness of one breast, she pinched gently at the perky nipple, hand continuing its path downwards until finding itself between her legs. Pressing two digits to her center had her whimpering, not at all surprised to find the fabric already wet.

“Did you touch yourself, baby..?” Her question was soft and unassuming, all fond curiosity. Closing her eyes, Alice thought of the picture, thought of him sliding his shorts down and brandishing his cock for her, his tip leaking precum. He could tell her to get down on her knees and suck him clean. She would. Gladly. But that wasn't the focus right now.

“Are you still hard for me?” Her voice was full of longing and lust, fingers rubbing along her slit through the soaked fabric of her panties, only occasionally flicking at her sensitive clit. “Did you cum already?” Her mind went back to him in the shower now, warm water caressing down his body as he pumped himself to orgasm. Mm, what a waste...

Having built her own arousal up right to the edge, Alice finally pulled her panties aside, moaning as she teased her little clenching hole, circling it with a fingertip. “Can I cum? Please~?” The sound of his spoken permission hit different, making her hips buckle as she easily slid two fingers inside with how wet she was. “Do you want to hear me cum, baby?” After knowing the pleasure of giving her body away to his masterful self, doing it herself was never quite as satisfying, but it would have to do for now.

For a stretch, all he could hear was her heavy breathing laced with soft moans. If he listened really close, maybe the lewd, wet noise of her fingers going in and out, deep and hard. She wanted to see him. Even just through a screen would suffice - having him watching her fuck herself after being turned on by his picture. And that idea was what pushed her over the edge. “Mmm, Tooru!” Cumming with his name on her tongue, Alice pulled her fingers out and kept gently stimulating her clit until the orgasm had washed over her, sighing contently as her body relaxed.

“I miss you, baby...” She whined affectionately while regaining her breath. “Can’t wait to see you again.”

#honedtalent #;Oika #[ smut ]#like a writing desk #- COUGHS SKJHFKJHDS #- the two of them traveling all over the place makes things difficult #- but the reunions are sweet too~ skjdfsdf #- i was going to make it so he was back at home or at his hotel too #- so they could talk/be more open/maybe even video call #- but left it vague bc if he is out with his teammates #- that could be fun too~#- :3c #- hope you like it!#- do forgive the delay! and the stupid length LMAOO #- thank you for sendiiiing~#nsfw;text

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remywrites5 · 5 years ago

Text

Taking Care

For @casualmaraudering who was feeling a bit sad tonight (tomorrow? Damn timezones!) Just something short and sweet! Hope you like it!!

***

Sirius paced the length of his bedroom as he waited for the Facetime to connect. Every time it rang without Remus picking up it set his teeth on edge. He just wanted to talk to his boyfriend and he didn’t know what he would do if Remus didn’t answer.

Finally after about the tenth ring Remus picked up. “Sirius?” he said, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “What’s going on? It’s like two in the morning.”

“I can’t do this, Moony,” Sirius said, shaking his head as he positioned the phone at an angle that was the most flattering. Even though it was late and Remus was sleep deprived it was no excuse not to look good for him.

Remus rolled his eyes knowingly. “Can’t do what?”

“It’s still another month before I get to see you. I was looking at the calendar on my phone and I realized how long it would be before we see each other again. That’s too far away, I’m not going to make it.”

Remus sighed and scrubbed his hand down his face. He turned on his bedside light and put on his glasses. “Sirius, I love you, but I also have a class in six hours.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said, feeling pathetic and needy, the way he always did when he had to go long stretches without seeing Remus. They hadn’t been together since Christmas break. “I know, I’m sorry.”

Remus flopped down back onto his pillows, holding his phone up with his arm outstretched, quickly fixing his hair so it fell in a pleasing way on the pillow. “Tell me what you need.”

Sirius let out a whine. “I need you here but I can’t have that so I don’t know.”

“Is James around to give you a cuddle?”

Sirius shook his head. “He went to bed hours ago. And if I wake him up he will hurt me unlike you who will just threaten it.”

Remus chuckled softly. “Want me to read to you?”

Sirius nodded and snuggled under the covers on his side, holding his phone on the pillow next to his as if Remus were in bed with him. Having Remus read him stories was one of his favorite things. He’d never really been read stories as a kid so having Remus read to him felt kind of novel. It made him feel warm and whole, like a part of him that had been missing was getting filled up.

Remus waited for Sirius to get settled and then grabbed his copy of Pride and Prejudice. He picked up where he had left off the last time Sirius had called him being dramatic and unable to sleep.

Sirius pulled the duvet up to his chin and let his eyes slip shut, the calming voice of his boyfriend washing over him. He let out a happy sigh as Remus spoke of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. As much as Sirius wanted to stay awake and continue listening to Remus read to him, he was quickly drifting off to Remus’ soothing tone.

***

Two days later Sirius received a care package in the mail from Remus. He knew Remus didn’t have much in the way of money, being a poor Uni student like Sirius, but most of the gifts were homemade anyway. It made them all the more special.

Remus had knitted Sirius a black and grey scarf because he was always chiding Sirius for going out in the winter in just his leather jacket. There was a homemade picture frame that was covered in candy hearts that said things like “be mine.” Inside was a picture of Sirius and Remus together the last time Sirius had visited Remus in Ireland, the two of them on the stairs of Skellig Michael. There was also a bunch of chocolate, a box of tissues, and a little jar filled with notes.

Confused, Sirius pulled out the jar and grabbed the letter Remus had put in the box for him.

Hi love,

You seemed like you were having a rough time of it, so I thought I would send you something to cheer you up. I hope they do the trick and if they don’t you better not tell me or it’ll crush my spirit. I feel like most of the stuff is self-explanatory but you’ve probably noticed a jar filled with notes. Inside are some things I’ve written out for you, quotes and thoughts and such. Whenever you’re feeling down I want you to reach into the jar and read one of the notes. If it doesn’t work then you know you can always reach out to me. I’m here even if I’m not with you.

I love you,

Remus

Sirius felt his eyes start to well up with tears as he twisted the top off the jar and pulled a random note out in hopes that it would help. Even though he was sad he felt so full of love that he thought he might burst.

Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead. – Oscar Wilde

Sirius pulled out his phone and immediately called Remus on Facetime. Remus picked up after only one ring and was already smiling. “I had a feeling you might call me today. I got a notification that my package had been delivered.”

Sirius laughed and wiped the tears from his eyes. “You’re wonderful.”

Remus blushed and played nervously with one of his curls. He always did that when he was nervous because Sirius’ adorable Moony didn’t know how to take compliments. He was wearing an oversized jumper that Sirius just wanted to crawl into and never leave. “So you like it then? Why are you crying?”

“Because you love me.”

“I don’t think that’s supposed to make you sad, Pads.”

“It makes me sad because all I want to do right now is kiss you but I can’t because you have the audacity to live far away.”

Remus snorted and tugged again on his curl, driving Sirius absolutely wild. “I was worried it might have been too…soppy.”

“Not at all,” Sirius assured him. “It was just what I needed. How did you know?”

Remus bit his bottom lip and then grinned. “Because I know you and I know how you get. And it sucks that I’m not there to make you feel better when you’re feeling rotten, but I figured I could at least help a little. I know it’s probably not enough.”

“Of course it’s not,” Sirius said, sighing wistfully. “Nothing but the actual you will ever be enough. But I think this will get me through the next month until I see you again.”

“I really love you, you know?”

Sirius beamed at him. “Yeah, I know.”

“This is where you say it back, you dick.”

Sirius laughed. “I love you more than anything, Moony.”

“Good,” Remus said, giving a nod of approval. “My birthday will be here before you know it and then you’ll be here with me.”

“I know it’s your birthday and I should be focused on you, but I will require quite a lot of cuddling,” Sirius informed him, sliding his fingers through his hair in the way he knew Remus liked.

Remus licked his lips. “Oh?”

“And kissing.” Sirius shot him a cheeky wink. He watched Remus’ gaze drop down to his lips for a moment. He dragged his teeth across them seductively and then laughed when he saw Remus blush bright red.

“I think I can handle that,” Remus told him, smiling shyly. “Only twenty-nine more days.”

Sirius blew Remus a kiss. “I can hardly wait.”

#wolfstar #i write things #fluff #unprompted #casualmaraudering #long distance relationship #established relationship #university au #sirius black x remus lupin

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staylovehearts · 6 years ago

Text

Enough?

Lee Felix x Reader

Word Count ~3.9 k

Summary: You never wanted Felix to find out that the fans he loves so much can be so cruel.

Tags: angst, hate comments, self-doubts, Felix is an idol in this one, and you’re like his not so secret girlfriend, the company is chill but the fans aren’t, mentions of other stray kids members

It's a simple routine. As you unlock your phone you immediately swipe away about twenty different notifications from different social media accounts without even looking at them. You are not even sure why you even still bother with an Instagram and all of that. Maybe you should just go private again. Or delete everything. But that would feel like defeat. Like giving up. So instead you just try to not look at the mean words people are spouting at you on the daily. When it first started you still tried to report every single comment. Blocked every person who insulted you. But once the comments became too many to count you gave up on that as well.

But it's fine. Ignore them all. Swipe it away. Don't look at it. Focus on the nice comments. The people that spammed flame emojis under your recent Instagram selfie. The ones leaving nice comments and replies. Or at least those, that seem neutral. The ones that like to joke around or post memes. Damn, even the people that drop Loona fancams under your tweets are bearable.

But you can ignore them all for the sake of the one message that you actually want to read.

cuddly coala boy: are you going to be watching me later tonight?? i hope you're not mad that i had to cancel our skype date because of this :((

The text came at exactly 4:35 in the morning. Well, 4:35 in the morning in your timezone. That means for him it must have been... wait, what's the time difference again? Where even is he right now? You are too lazy to actually look up timezones right now to properly calculate the difference, but you decide to assume that it was a reasonable time. Well, at least you hope it was fairly reasonable. With the way his schedule works it's not unusual for him to send you messy texts full of typos past midnight when he is exhausted from a day of dance practice and vocal training and he just fell into bed after a quick shower and decided to send you a short text, already half asleep. It's also not rare for him to text you early in the morning. When he is on his way to his first schedule of the day. Early in the morning, but already buzzing with energy and excitement. Sometimes he'd send pictures of his breakfast and gush about the organic canteen. In summer he sent you a picture of the sunrise almost every morning. Because in summer the sun rises so early, that most people sleep through this daily spectacle of nature. But those that are woken up at five in the morning – even earlier on some days – never miss out on a sunrise. And you get to see those pictures of the sunrise in a different country, mostly after you've already missed the sunrise in your own location. Most of the pictures weren't even that special, some of them even too blurry to make out more than washed-out colours and the rough outlines of buildings. On some mornings the sky was too cloudy to show more than a lighter stripe of colour beneath a layer of grey and blue. But even on those days, Felix made it a point to show you the sunrise. And you have all of those pictures saved. Because you are just so goddamn whipped for this sunshine of a boy who sends you pictures of the actual sun every morning alongside a happy good morning text.

I'm not mad at all!! I know that work comes first, I'm sure we'll be able to make up for that skype date, have fun later, I might join when I have the time, but you know how the vlive times sometimes don't work with the timezones :/

It takes you a good fifteen minutes or so until you have finally typed up a reply that you are actually confident sending. You don't want to show that you are actually upset. You don't want to make him feel bad for having to cancel your plans. But it's probably obvious that you feel a little bitter about this. You were understanding the first few times this happened. And of course, you are still understanding. You knew that things would probably be like this. But it's becoming harder to hide your disappointment with every skype call that has to be moved to a different date. Every delayed reply. Every day that passes with just a few short messages being sent back and forth during water breaks.

But you know what you signed up for when you not only agreed on trying this long distance relationship, but trying it with an idol on top of the insane timezone difference.

Seeing the friendly kid you used to go to school with on television was already a weird experience. But finding out that he had become a K-Pop star felt like some kind of fever dream. To be completely honest you didn't even know what K-Pop was until you heard Felix – and his bandmate Chan – talk about it on national television. Your mother had called you downstairs in a frenzy to make you watch the special report. When you got there she was pointing at the screen excitedly, asking you over and over look, look, isn't this a boy you used to go to school with? Did you know that he's famous in Korea now? Isn't this crazy? You could certainly agree with her on that last question. To make a long story short, you spent pretty much the rest of that day – and most of the following week – researching every available bit of information about this K-Pop thing and the group your school friend was now part of. You listened to and downloaded their entire discography within one day. Watched every music video and memorised the member's faces within hours. And in the following days, you went through every vlive video and any other content you could find. Saying you were hooked would have been an understatement.

The thought of reaching out to Felix hadn't crossed your mind until maybe two weeks into your newly discovered obsession. It was a suggestion by a friend who you had a couple of courses together with. She had brought the idea up completely nonchalantly as if just hitting up a celebrity is a thing you do every other day. When you expressed that sentiment she just shrugged as if to say dunno, but weren't you friends with him?

Well, she wasn't really wrong about that. But she also wasn't really right. Sure, Felix and you went to school together. You had classes together for three years and you saw him pretty much every other day. But you were never super close to him. Felix was just that kind of person that everyone was on good terms with. He'd sit down at a different table at lunch every day, nerds and jocks were equally welcoming of him. Everyone likes having Felix around, but he wasn't insanely popular either. If someone would have asked about Felix the most common answer would have been something along the lines ah yeah, that guy, he's really nice, we don't really hang out outside of school though. That was just the kind of relationship almost everyone had with him, the kid you'd do group projects or share a lunch table with but not necessarily your first pick when you wanted to put together a group for karaoke that weekend. So Felix and you weren't really friends. You remember being in a group project with him once and for maybe a month or so he even was your lab partner until the seats were switched but that's pretty much it. Maybe you had a bit of a fleeting crush on him back then. Most girls had. The freckles dusting his cheeks and the big brown eyes gave him something adorable and his sunny personality matched that all too well. But back then as well you never considered acting on those feelings and years later you had almost completely forgotten about them altogether.

Tracking him down was hard, but easier than you thought it would be. Of course, the old phone number you managed to find in some inactive group chat didn't work anymore. And any social media you ever knew he had was deactivated. But somehow – through a friend of a friend of an acquaintance – you managed to get in contact with him again. And you immediately remembered what you had liked about Felix back then. Talking to him was as easy as ever. Somehow texting him didn't feel like talking to a celebrity, but just casually catching up with an old friend from school. Texting every once in a while turned into chatting almost daily. Then the phone calls started. Late-night rambling, one of you always tired from the time zone difference. The first face time call was an accident – at least that's what Felix told you – but the second wasn't. And neither was the twentieth. You've lost count at this point.

The status of your relationship with Felix has been a mystery to you for the longest time. It was clear to you that that little fleeting crush you used to have had come back at ten times the intensity and you were pretty sure that Felix must at least enjoy talking to you enough to stay up way past the time where he should go to sleep at. But even with mutual feelings, there were more than enough stones in your way. Him being a celebrity and the several hour time difference plus living in different countries are probably some of the most obvious trials.

Let's just say it worked... somehow. Is still working. Even if it's tough sometimes. You've seen Felix a total of three times since making it official and all of these were just for a couple of days at most. There's always schedules he has to attend, filming to be done. Your schedules don't match up at all, he has so little free time that you have no other choice than to arrange yourself around it. Make amends. Compromise.

That's not really the problem here. The official part of the whole making it official is actually the root of all evil. Surprisingly enough Felix's company actually allowed him to make an official statement regarding his relationship status and confirming that he was indeed seeing someone. Of course, you were never mentioned by name. But someone somewhere must have taken a picture of you and him meeting up that one time. And someone else must have somehow identified you on that picture and shared your Instagram. And twitter. And pretty much any other public social media you had at that point. All of that within an hour of the announcement being made. You never openly confirmed or denied any "rumours" - or maybe accusations is the more fitting term here – about you and Felix dating. But you didn't have to. They knew enough to hate you for "stealing" him away from them. Of course, not all of them hate you. Some are actually supportive of the relationship. Though that's definitely only because they support Felix and want to see him happy, not because anyone really cares about your hurt feelings here. Then there's also a couple of fans that just ignore the whole thing entirely. According to them, it's all just rumours and there is no way that Felix is actually seeing someone. Don't you know he's a sweet gay baby, uwu? He's actually dating [insert whoever they ship him with here]. At least these comments can be kind of entertaining to read. Sometimes. You've scrolled past entire think pieces and page-long analysis of the smallest interactions turned into super definite proof that there is more going on between those two band members behind the scenes. They are delusional, but at least they are mostly harmless.

And then there are people who just straight-up hate you. And maybe that group is not actually as big as it seems but they are loud. So goddamn loud. And they are mean. You have switched accounts, gone private, deleted and remade. Everything in a desperate attempt to hide from the comments. But they always find you somehow. There is no escape.

A new notification pops up on your phone, you try not to look at it as you delete it but you catch enough of a glimpse to get the gist of it.

You're not good enough... you don't deserve to be with him... you should just do him a favour and break up, he's probably just to nice to do it himself.

It's always the same, you've read it hundreds of times, in every possible phrasing and variation. The bad thing though, you're starting to believe that they might actually be right.

The vlive is happening around noon in your time, which is at least kind of reasonable compared to other times that you have set an alarm to watch some kind of stream or award show or anything similar. You actually don't really want to watch, at least not for your own entertainment. Watching these things for yourself has kind of stopped working after... well yeah, after all that's going on. But you know that Felix would be happy, knowing that you are watching him. So maybe you'll tune in for a bit during your lunch break. Just long enough to take a screenshot and send it to him alongside a short text telling him that you are watching the live and that you really aren't mad. You aren't mad. Just scared.

You click the notification as soon as it appears on your phone. One of the few notifications you are actually happy to receive. The app takes a moment to load and by the time the stream is actually playing it's already flooded with viewers. But the picture is not moving. Or at least the three boys in the frame aren't moving. But you notice something in the background, maybe some kind of curtain, being moved by a breeze. Still, the trio keeps up their game for another few seconds until they all break out into wide grins and start talking. Felix is sitting in the middle, wedged in between Jisung and Hyunjin. The three of them are sitting behind a table that has various playthings scattered on the polished hardwood surface. You spot a box filled with Jenga pieces, next to a card game and a rubik’s cube. You take a couple of screenshots and tap out to send one of them to Felix, of course he won't see it right now but you want to prove that you were actually watching live. When you open the stream again they are already building up the Jenga tower while joking around with each other. Even though you didn't plan to stick around you watch them play games and talk for a while. It's nice. You can almost imagine yourself sitting in a room with them, laughing, cracking jokes and enjoying yourself. You can almost imagine being this close to Felix. Both physically close enough to be in a room with him as well as close enough for him to introduce you to his friends and be allowed to hang out with the group. It's almost in your reach. Almost perfect. Almost.

Felix is messing with the rubik’s cube, trying to solve it after he has insisted for minutes that he knows how it's done, Hyunjin is stopping the time on his phone while Jisung is going through the comments. You yourself haven't dared to take a look at them yet. Even here you aren't save. Most of the time they are flying by so fast that you can't even finish reading one before the next one jumps into vision.

Where is-

can you say hi to-

omg i-

notice me ple-

Most of it is short comments like this, some are just emojis (mostly every different kind of heart there is), wild key smashing and a plethora of "i love you"s in different languages. But some stick out. Some are different. The username is the first thing you notice about that one specific comment.

felix's_girlfriend

When you first made your account you thought about claiming that name for yourself. Just as a joke. But it was already taken. And so was felix's_wife, ilovefelix, freckleslover or any other possibility you could think of. Even when you started adding numbers to the names you couldn't get them. There are at least fifteen people using some variation on Felix's girlfriend as their username. You stopped trying after that.

Jisung probably spots the comment about at the same time as you did.

"Yo, someone with the username felix's_girlfriend just asked when you will finally do a dance cover of the latest Twice song", he says. Or at least something along the lines. You practised Korean to be able to at least get the gist of what's going on when they are talking, but you can't always understand everything. But you sure do understand the way Felix's head just whips up. Like that of a puppy delighted to see its owner coming back home.

"She's watching?", he asks. This time you understand clearly. Jisung looks back at him for a moment, a mixture of shock and surprise on his face. Felix isn't supposed to talk about you. Not here.

"It's just that person's username", he answers, after a moment of silence. Felix's bright smile drops for a moment, but then he nods his head and laughs as if someone just made an amazing joke. The boys continue talking about the Twice comeback and other promotions that are currently going on as if nothing happened. Hyunjin rambles about Got7 while Jisung jokes about how Seungmin is probably really excited about Day6. But the people in the comments are not willing to let go of what happened quite as easily.

I hope that bitch just disappears someone writes. Felix should break up with her, she's not good enough. You can't pretend to not notice it any longer. And maybe the boys noticed too, at least they don't read out any other comments after that one. But you don't really stick around for that long after. You are clearly not welcome here.

The thing is, that you never wanted to drag Felix into this mess. Of course, he is already a part of it, but you didn't want to let him see all of the ugly things that they are saying about you two. Well, in the end it's mostly you they are mad at. Some fans have commented that they are mad or disappointed that Felix would date someone, but they don't say the same things about him that they say about you. And you're glad. You wouldn't wish this on anyone. Especially not Felix, who is always so bright and full of love for his fans. You know that he loves that. He's said it numerous times. And even when he doesn't say it with words, it's obvious. He says it with the way he always smiles and waves at the camera, with all that he pours into performances, with the energy and passion he gives. He loves them.

Felix has never said the l-word to you.

Your phone rings about three hours later. You are hesitant to pick up when you see his name light up on the screen, but you don't want to lead him to believe that you are mad at him or anything.

"Hey there, why are you calling? Isn't it the middle of the night where you are?" You try to make your voice sound cheerful. Like you are a little surprised that he is calling you at that time but all in all happy that he is calling you. Confused, but a pleasant kind of surprise. You're probably not all that convincing, but maybe it's enough since this is just a phone call. Not even video this time.

"Ah, I just wanted to check in on you", Felix replies. His voice sounds a little bit drowsy. A soft kind of deep rumble. Bedroom voice, but not the sexy kind. The soft I'm about to curl up and fall asleep voice. You've heard that before, fell asleep to that soft voice talking to you over the phone. For a moment you almost crack. You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but you blink them away quickly.

"Oh, I'm fine, just got back home a while ago, going to make myself some food soon. How was your day, did that live go well?"

"Hmm, did you watch it?"

"Oh, just for a bit. I was... busy." Somehow you feel guilty saying it like that. Sure, you did only watch maybe about half of it. You told him in advance that you probably wouldn't watch the whole thing. But you have a feeling that there is a reason he is asking. And you are purposely avoiding it. Felix stays silent for a moment, maybe hesitant to bring it up himself. And for a moment you hope that he just won't. That you can both pretend that everything is alright and just joke around like usual. When he finally does speak his voice sounds so sad.

"There were some... not so nice comments about you. Did you see them?"

You consider lying but you don't see the point in it. He probably knows that you have seen them.

"Yeah."

"Do they often say things like that to you?"

"... yeah."

"That's... awful. I'm so sorry."

You take a deep breath. You really never wanted him to find out about how cruel the fans he loves so much can really get. Of course he knew that not everyone approved of him having a relationship and of course he's seen some of the gossip articles that the tabloids write about you. But what the fans say behind the protection of anonymity is so much worse than that.

"It's not your fault", you mutter finally. You can hear Felix take a deep breath as well.

"You don't- you don't believe what they say, do you? You know that I would never break up with you just like that. You are enough. More than I could ever ask for."

You aggressively blink your eyes a couple of times and tilt back your head. You don't want to cry. It always becomes obvious in your voice when you start crying and you really don't want to worry him any more.

"I know, but it's nice to hear. Thank you."

There's noises in the background. Some loud clatter, like dishes falling over and then several voices talking over each other. You haven't thought about it yet but Felix must be calling you from the dorm. There is the sound of a door being opened, a little noise of surprise and then it's being shut close again. Probably someone looking for Felix.

"You should probably hang up soon", you mumble. Not because you want him to, but because you know that the longer this goes on the harder it will be for you to not burst into tears.

"I guess. I'll call you again tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, I'd like that very much."

"Great then... good night."

"Goodnight."

"Hey, (y/n), I love you."

"I love you too, Felix."

#stray kids #stray kids writing #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #lee felix #felix #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #lee felix fluff #lee felix fanfic #lee felix imagine #lee felix scenario #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst

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theholycovenantrpg · 4 years ago

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CONGRATULATIONS, HAYLEY! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF LUCA RICHE.

Admin Cas: Hayley, Hayley, Hayley. Your application felt, in a word, magical. You drew every one of us in to the romantic, rose-tinted world of Luca Riche, and I’m not sure any of us ever want to leave it. Luca is so good, so pure, so foolish, and evidence of that bled through your every word. And yet, your interpretation made him so much more than his love. He’s a hero, he’s a warrior — and for all his light, there’s darkness in him, too. The way you scattered quotes throughout your application really gave us insight into who Luca is beneath the surface. I’m so excited to leave our lovely, golden himbo in your hands, and I can’t wait to have my heart broken by him. Your faceclaim change to Daniel Sharman has been approved. Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Hayley

Age | 24

Personal Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level | Well currently I’m unemployed so I have all the time in the world to just flood the dash with writing! This may change in January/February where I’ll likely be on a few hours per day in the evenings and more active on the weekends (I may also need a hiatus to move/settle in if I have to move to a new state just a heads up!!).

Timezone | EST

Triggers | REMOVED

How did you find the group? | I would follow Rosey and her brilliant ideas to the ends of this earth

IN CHARACTER

Character | Luca Riche (FC change to Daniel Sharman? I can be flexible with alts depending on Jasper’s faceclaim as well!)

What drew you to this character? | Honestly what DIDN’T drive me to this character. Literally like everyone else I can’t help but love him the second I laid my eyes on him. He’s magnetic and just so, so good. Like pure and good and I’ll be honest I’m not quite used to playing characters who possess the literal light of the sun within them but that’s what drew me to him like he was a beacon asking me to challenge myself in the new year.

There is something just so incessantly good about Luca, which is perhaps rare amongst humans. The world has a way of finding light and corrupting it, and yet Luca remains nearly untouched. I think he’s not entirely blind to the evils of the world, having willingly taken on his role as a knight with the knowledge that he may have to and since has shed blood, but I think he still sees it and its potential as inherently good, which makes it all the more difficult to see the bad in things. That’s not to say he is entirely blind to it, but there are many things he does not see as suspicious or just willfully ignores, especially when it comes to his brother (more on them later). Of course, some things will clearly indicate to him that he should be wary, things in the vein of Samael’s entire presence, but in most cases, he is willing to give the benefit of the doubt.

I also love seeing a character who is so magnetic and who embraces that magnetism, yet hasn’t let it go to his head completely. I can imagine Luca as somewhat caught up in that reputation, as he knows the sacrifices he is encouraged and nearly obligated at this point to make, and yet he still does it willingly, not because it is expected of him, but because he wants to. He does it for love, for the love of humanity and this world and peace. He will set himself on fire to keep others warm, and yet does not boast of his flammability. Perhaps this savior complex has, in some instances, gone to his head, but overall, Luca doesn’t appear cocky or full of too much pride.

He sees himself as a hero, after all, and he knows what ends heroes may meet. Glory is but a small reward to receive while living, but as long as he lives, he will do all that he can, do all that heroes are meant to receive. Luca is well aware peace may only be sustained once he has given all there is to give of himself, his aching muscles and his still-beating heart, and that is why he will give and give, knowing what it does to him, until there is nothing left. He is so selfless in almost all regards, and yet the tinge of selfish desire to uncover the dreams he’s been having linger like a fog at the edges of his vision.

I’ll be honest in saying I haven’t written a character whose heart is full of as much love and light as Luca’s, but I also think it’s impossible for anyone to ever have as much love contained within them as Luca does. It’s as abundant as sunlight within him and he seems to give it out just as freely as the sun spreads her rays about the Earth. He is Helios, pulling the sun through the sky, ignoring any burn that may come to his flesh, for the people he loves receive its light, and for that, he is happy, he is whole.

And don’t even get me STARTED on the Riche brothers. I love their dynamic, the balance they bring, the sun and moon. The sun longs so much to be with his moon, and yet while they are destined to coexist together, the moon is so rarely willing to share his skies with the sun. That doesn’t stop Luca from trying, of course. I was so drawn to Luca in part because of the dynamic he shares with Jasper, because I just love foils and I love how intertwined their stories are, much to Luca’s pleasure and Jasper’s chagrin. A father Luca never knew and Jasper knew all too well being the reason they were brought together, so close yet so distant. Luca doesn’t know when to give up, especially when it comes to his brother, and that might just be the death of him, for, unbeknownst to him, it once was.

What future plots do you have in mind for the character? |

ONE. A cheering crowd. Sunlight glinting off his armor. Dust settling to reveal a beautifully colored dawn. A smile brighter than all of it. I want to explore the lengths Luca will go to in order to maintain peace across this land and bring some form of salvation to the people within it. They look to him for this, for him to uphold the values of these peaceful times and ensure that this land remains prosperous and happy, and he gladly shoulders the weight of this responsibility. I want to see the things they demand of him, and how increasingly challenging they may be. How much weight can one man withstand? What tasks in the pursuit of peace and salvation and justice may lead him to make tough, impossible, potentially immoral decisions? How much can one man sacrifice before he leaves himself too vulnerable, too spent, too weak to do all that they revere him for?

TWO. A cold sweat upon the back of his neck. Blurry faces. Shadowed intentions. A dagger. Waking up with a start. I’d love to see Luca discover more about his past life and explore how he would react to the truth. He’s already longing for answers after every brief glimpse his post-encounters with Samael bring him, but I want to explore what those answers look like and what he thinks of them, especially when he finally realizes who he is and how his story once ended. I think this will be a long-term plot, with brief glimpses and memories becoming clearer, where he may grapple with immense confusion and some denial before actually accepting the truth of his past. In this, I also want to see how far he may go for the truth, since this is the only thing Luca seems to be doing primarily for himself and his own gain. So used to being selfless, he finally finds one cause he cannot stay away from that is wholly his own — if he’s so used to sacrificing for others, what might he sacrifice to give himself a moment’s satisfaction?

To get there, Luca knows this requires spending more time with Samael, so I’d be really excited to plot that out and see the fallout! Luca does not like what he must do, and yet feels this pull to do it, and I can imagine it will take more of a toll on him than just these visions.

THREE. A hand rejected. Something just out of reach. Brows set in determination. Ignoring the warning signs. I so badly want to explore the dynamic of Luca and Jasper. There’s rich history between these two, not only in this life but the last. The shared loss of a father brought them together when the loss of Abel’s life had torn them from one another in the last life, and I want to see what elements of that life remain now, and what elements might be made clearer from the dreams and memories Luca has been unearthing as of late. He knows his brother opposes him in so many ways, and yet he sees the necessity in the balance they hold together. I want to explore how his view of his brother and love of his brother may change, if at all, once he learns the truth of what his old fate was. I’d love to see how he reacts, if there is any difference in the way he would see or treat Jasper, and what he might do to ensure the course of history does not repeat itself (that is, if he even imagines that as a possible threat now), if anything at all. This is stuff that would be plotted ooc! I know this one is a bit vague and leaves many directions open, but I want to ensure flexibility on my part to allow the story and other characters to also have their effects on Luca!

FOUR. Whispers in the streets. Learning from the past. Nature overtaking ruins. Second chances. I hope to see Luca encounter what is left of the Heretics, be it any hidden surviving members or relics from their rule. I think it could be a great moment of balancing the still-remaining grief from his father with the acknowledgement of the things he’s done — Luca has been able to keep that balance now at the Table, but that’s because he has nothing but the post-Heretic world to reference. I would love to see him challenged and forced to face the things his father has done head-on, and I want to see what lengths he might go to in order to rectify that. Perhaps he will lend so much of himself out of guilt and his naive desire for peace that he accidentally gives the Heretics (or a resurgence/birth or something similar to the Heretics) too much power and legitimacy, or perhaps he will learn that the past must be buried for a reason.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Did Cain murder Abel? Yes. The answer to both is yes I love to hurt

IN DEPTH

Driving Character Motivation |

“The sun never truly sets, Luca. Not when you’re here.” Peace. Love. The bright sun of a new tomorrow. Luca holds so much love in his heart for this world, but even more for the world he knows it can become if peace and prosperity are ushered in. He wants to maintain the peace that others worked so hard to establish in this new world, and he wants to ensure the happiness and prosperity of the people who inhabit it now. It’s almost a quiet expectation that was laid upon him since birth; Luca was swaddled in stories of heroism and hope as much as he was swaddled in cloth blankets when the sun set. That energy has stuck with him all his life, virtue as abundant in his veins as sunlight, and thus he wants to keep this world peaceful, keep it pleasant, and help to usher in justice and prosperity and build a utopia for the people who look to him. After all, he sees humanity as good at its core, and thus wishes to help or save all he can.

“You may share his blood, but you do not share his heart. Yours is ten times bigger and wrapped in gold — yours is a treasure to behold.” There’s also this father-sized weight upon his shoulders that he could not ignore. At first, his knees buckled in grief when he tried to carry it, but now he lifts it upon strong shoulders, years of practice strengthening the muscle. He wants to usher in a different legacy for the Riche name because he knows so well the mixed reactions that had preceded him. He grew up hearing the whispers that followed his surname’s reputation when others thought the child could not hear. While they beamed at Luca, and some uttered words of pride for his legacy, others would whisper curses at his father, despite the adoration they felt for the spawn just within earshot. He wants people to hear his name and smile, to think of the peace he brought and the good he’s done, and hopefully the good his descendants will continue to do.

“What wills you to bear your soul, fleshy and vulnerable, to the hungriest of vultures?” Answers also drive Luca, in a sense, but mostly in the reason he spends time with Samael. He cannot help the curiosity and longing that his vivid dreams inject into his veins, he cannot help the pull of the river of this mysterious blood. He longs to see where it lasts, and if he has spent his life being so selfless, why should he not have one thing of his own? He seeks so little, he thinks, so surely he can justify his actions. He gives so much and yet looks for only one thing for himself, so despite the means in which he achieves it, it cannot be so bad, can it?

Character Traits | OPTIONAL. Please list 3 positive traits and 3 negative traits that you identify in the character you’re applying for.

+: selfless, brave, charismatic

-: too trustful, ignorant, doesn’t know when to quit

In-Character Para Sample |

When the sun finally kissed Luca goodnight with magnificent shades of orange and pink in its wake and the moon promised her glow would keep him alight until the sun’s valiant return, he fell asleep readily, trusting the safety she sang of. Once, as a child, he’d been afraid of the dark, begging his mom to keep a candle beside him as if she could will the fire’s intentions or even pull the sun out of hiding for her boy. Back then, it wasn’t until she reminded him that he shone brighter than any star in the night sky, that he was her guiding light when the sun could not be, that he settled, determined to illuminate this home even in his dreams. When he dreamt back then, he dreamt of heroes, of daring rescues and brave knights and the whispers of legends passed down through generations. Shining armor and great adventure and triumphant endings held a young Luca’s mind during the night.

Tonight, there were no heroes behind his eyes.

He awoke in a field unfamiliar. The grasses were tall and beginning to yellow with the dry heat of the summer, which beamed down upon Luca from a sun that seemed much harsher than the one he had loved. Already, sweat began to bead upon his forehead, and as he sat up and wiped the moisture away, he realized his hands were tanner than they typically were. Perhaps the summer sun had been extra brutal this year. Dirt caked under his nails mixed with the sweat from his palm as he wiped them on an unfamiliar tunic. This world he awoke in was not the one he’d fallen asleep in, and for a moment, he wondered if his body was even the one he’d left in slumber, as well.

Standing up, the grass tickled his calves, a greeting from nature he had been familiar with as a child. Luca looked around for some semblance of where he was, but the world offered no kind clues. Even the sun could not help her favorite child here with a helpful, guiding ray. The field was vast, nearly as far as the eye could see, though when turning around, Luca noticed the beginning trees of a forest — no, a garden. The trees looked strangely like those that greeted him whenever he visited the Garden of Eden, and yet he could not fathom that a possibility, for this land looked nothing like the Holy Land he’d called home for some years, now. Perhaps his mind just ached for even a touch of something familiar, he believed. The slightest similarity to soothe a confused ache in his mind.

A shuffle in the grass caused Luca to turn around and face its source, and while he knew he should have been filled with some sort of nervousness, some sort of wariness upon facing the unknown, he could only feel calm, as if he knew what he was about to encounter. Thankfully, he did not need to feel fear as he looked down at his new companion, a round sheep lazily approaching him through the grass, newly sheared for summer. A soft, pleased sigh escaped him, and his hand reached out to pet the dark head of the bleating creature, who leaned in expectedly to Luca’s touch.

When he pulled back from the creature, red stained his hand. Shocked, he sucked in a sharp breath as the world around him began to blur. The field felt an illusion out of focus, even the garden on its outskirts felt too far to have ever been real. The only thing that remained real, the only thing anchoring him to this place was the sheep, who, upon taking a step back from Luca, revealed a slowly growing red stain upon his neck. Blood’s crimson stain grew and grew about the sheep’s neck, and the color of the grass beneath it began to change to follow suit. Beside him grew a feeling Luca could not shake: though he could only see himself and the sheep, they were not alone. And whoever this presence was, He was satisfied.

Luca awoke with a start, his breathing desperate and ragged. His hands, clean and pale with the winter’s early nights, reached to wipe the cold sweat that spotted his forehead. He stayed upright in his bed for what felt like hours, unable to succumb to sleep again, until the sun arose and painted the sky with soft, apologetic clouds for abandoning him for so long. A dream, it had only been, and yet the feelings it brought did not pass, churning in his stomach and sticking to its walls like the sweetest of honeys or the thickest of bloods. Something about it felt much more real than the other fleeting escapes his mind entertained under the moon’s watchful gaze. The dream lingered on the tip of his tongue, evasive and then out of reach, and with it, a single word.

Sacrifice.

It was the first, and it would not be the last.

Extras | Pinterest

Luca said himbo rights (he is emotionally intelligent but not near as intelligent in the classical sense as Jasper!!!) and I support him.

HEADCANONS:

Scars. Being a knight, and seeing and training in combat, Luca has not been able to walk away unscathed. Due to the armor he’s worn in battle, most of his scars come from training, and many are from his early days when he still had much to learn. The most notable one runs along the back of his left arm above his elbow, from when he was shoved into a wall during a sparring match and met a nail that was sticking out of the wood. [Also, this one would depend on Jasper’s mun, but I think it would be interesting for Luca to have a scar that his brother gave to him. It could be they were sparring with swords and Jasper won with the tip of his blade to Luca’s neck. While he would not have killed his brother that day, it could have left a small scar beneath his chin. I just like the idea of it serving as an omen that Luca ignores in favor of noting that his brother was in a position of power over him but chose to do nothing to harm him.]

Religion. Luca believes in the Hundred Eyed God and can often be seen attending ceremonies at the church. He also spends time there volunteering with whatever they may need him to do.

Style. Luca’s style varies from his armor as a knight, which has some gold plating to it to signify his gilded status, to his everyday wear, which often consists of lighter earth tones and whatever cuts of clothing are most stylish. Sometimes, he will wear a vest of chainmail over his tunic, more for style reasons than practical ones. Accessories include a sword (in knightwear it is a longsword with a leather hilt and gold accents, and more casually he carries a shortsword with an intricate golden hilt), a small leather satchel, and a necklace containing a pendant of an eye.

Weapons. Luca has two primary swords (described above) which are his preferred weapons. However, he has also trained and is skilled with a bow and arrow and daggers, though these weapons are not always on his person. CHARACTER:

MBTI. ENFJ, The Protagonist

Enneagram. 2w3

Alignment. Lawful/Neutral Good (he’s on the cusp due to the fact that he does not show unwavering blind loyalty he is loyal instead to causes that are right and just — also literally lawful and neutral differed by one point when I took the test)

Temperament. Sanguine

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

The unfazed. Someone who isn’t charmed by Luca’s reputation. This person could have their reasons for not believing in the same things he does, or they could just be a contrarian who doesn’t see the big deal with him. It’s something that’s rare for Luca to encounter, and sometimes he doesn’t quite know what to do to get certain people on his side, but he will certainly try his hardest.

The grateful. Someone who Luca has helped in the past. This could go in many different directions depending on the character, who may feel indebted, or simply believe in the legend surrounding him even harder. A friendship could have even spawned out of this, and Luca will make it a point to check in on this person if they don’t already see each other often.

The argumentative. Someone who Luca doesn’t quite see eye to eye with. Different from the unfazed in the sense that they may share the same goals with Luca or agree with him on certain things, but the two just can’t seem to agree on how to approach a situation. Maybe one wishes to rush in while the other wants to take their time, or they just completely have opposite plans to solve a certain problem or prioritize involving different risks. There’s much banter that comes from this, and the political bickering may not end when the meeting is over.

The guilt-trip. Someone who Luca feels guilty looking upon. Perhaps this was someone he could not help for whatever reason, or someone (or the family of someone) he came to the aid of when it was too late. Losing anything, even if it’s just a small battle, takes its toll on Luca, who isn’t quite used to failure, and the sight of this person weighs heavy on his heart. Perhaps they resent him for this, or maybe they don’t, but Luca feels an obligation to make it up to them regardless. A fun little exploration in what failure looks like on Luca.

The sparring partner. Someone Luca turns to when Jasper denies his requests to spar (or anything, really). While not someone who turns to violence as a first resort, Luca knows he must keep his performance at a certain level as a knight, and so he practices with this person often. He finds them a pleasant and formidable challenge, regardless of the amount of formal training they have. I think the intricacies and what each person gets out of this really depends on the other character as well!

MORE RAMBLING:

I just wanted to ramble a little about the rest of Luca’s connections!! I already rambled about the Riche brothers who I love so much and I wanted to just go off on how much I love the other dynamics he’s involved in as well. I didn’t wanna make his app all about connections because it’s about him!!! So here’s where the rest of my love for those connections is gonna go:

Romilda. Romilda and Luca just. Ugh they make my heart sing!!! I think there is the potential for someone like Luca, someone so good, to feel lonely at the top when others are just simply not like him or don’t see the world the way he does. But Romilda has always kept him from feeling alone — she is his guiding light and his favorite star in the sky!! I think having someone like them who understands and who just. gets him so intensely is so good for him and helps him feel stronger. Romilda is truly one of the people he cares for the most and I really think he would do just about anything for them and finds himself easily justifying any cause they have. Romilda is truly the person Luca trusts the most and the person he would tell anything to. She would likely be the first person to hear about his dreams (though, I’ll admit he’ll probably try and tell Jasper, but I doubt Jasper will listen, so Romilda is the first person to truly hear about what’s going through his head). I think the age difference between them has also made Luca sometimes see himself as a protector over Romilda. Though he knows she does not need saving now, strong and brilliant in her burning light, he does still look out for her, in spite of any darkness she may not notice encroaching.

Caphriel. This connection just really pulls me in so well! She is his Lorelei, that beautiful mirage upon the rocks. Actually, Lorelei is pretty fitting, though I don’t pretend to control or speak for Caphriel — this beautiful maiden who lost her lover and threw herself to sea, now singing to draw this sailor in — only in this case the sailor is also her lover reincarnated. What they have is nothing short of beautiful. She is, among many things, a selfish desire of a selfless man, and it is in part that reason that Luca finds himself seeking clarity. He cannot know if this love is a blessing or a test from the Hundred Eyed God if he is so completely blinded by it, and as much as it pains him, as impossible as it seems (and it is, for truly Luca cannot resist the cries of anyone who utters his name), he must take that space, he must breathe in air that is not fully saturated with the sweet scent of Caphriel. He also worries he is not the only human she sets her sights upon, because while they both share a love of humanity, he can imagine how deep that love runs within her veins. He wants to know she feels for Luca in every part, not just his mortality. He does not know she has felt for him before.

Jasper. I already talked about the Riche brothers so this is just my little space to say I love Jasper so so much. I want to give him a kiss on the forehead and give him a book. It might be a therapy book but it’s a book and a gift nonetheless.

Samael. I touched on Samael’s role to Luca a little bit but there’s more to it than just the dreams Luca is cursed (or blessed, Luca is definitely not sure which at this time) with. Samael, like Caphriel, is a means to a selfish desire of a selfless man, and I love that there is an angel and a demon Luca has some sort of selfish means towards. Samael is, perhaps, the only one who holds answers, and despite the contempt Luca feels towards him, he doesn’t much desire playing trial and error with the other demons when he knows Samael may be all but dangling the key he seeks in front of his face. I also just love the idea of someone who gets under Luca’s skin when he’s a fairly positive person who values peace over his temper. He tells himself that it is worth it, that he will only receive his answers and then leave the demon alone forever, but even these encounters possibly leave open the tiniest cracks for corruption. After all, his longing for answers suggests a selfish desire, and how can that be ignored in the face of a demon? ANOTHER PARA SAMPLE:

Sun-kissed skin has been drained of its glow. Bright eyes had dimmed in the sadness. The only thing that remained of Luca at this funeral were the rosy shade that blanketed his cheeks, but even they were a false image. The youthful rush of blood to his cheeks was replaced by the heavy pulse of life beneath the skin as the boy cried all the day long. What light the sun could provide behind dark clouds only served to illuminate the tears that ran down his face. He’d long since stopped reaching to wipe them, and the hearts of strangers could not bear to look upon his sadness for too long.

On this day, the day of his father’s funeral, the light had been drained from Luca, a boy born swaddled in the sun, all because of a man he’d barely even known. His father, who had rarely come to visit, had encapsulated the boy’s heart in just those few times that ten-year-old Luca still felt the crushing weight of grief bearing down upon him. Stories of what they would do when he visited next would remain just that, stories. “Your father was a great man,” strangers would say to them as they brushed his limp curls out of his face. Luca nodded, for even if he hadn’t known the man long, he truly believed that. His mother loved him. He loved him. But when Luca felt his mother’s hand squeezing his shoulder, there was something else in her eyes, something else joining the sadness that had plagued her demeanor ever since she hoarsely broke the news to Luca.

“Your father had another son,” she said quietly, bile coating the words she could not even bring herself to sugarcoat, not even for her sweet child. Luca looked up at her quizzically, but she did not meet his gaze for once, her stare looking across the room as her grip tightened upon his shoulder. “He’s going to be living with us.” Luca had never seen his mother not as bright and abundant as the flowers that grew in the garden, and yet, everything in her withered when she spoke of this news. He imagined it was grief, and nothing more, that brought this out as his mother was swallowed up again by the mourning crowd, leaving him alone with just those words for comfort.

Another son. Luca had a brother. It was the type of shocking news that could make any grieving child break on a day like this. To know one’s father was not faithful to their mother. To know there was another receiving the affections meant for them. And yet, this news was what brought the sun out from behind the storm clouds that hid it away. Luca had a brother, another boy just like him, and he could not help but smile softly to himself. He would have someone to walk through this life with, to help him shoulder this grief and tell him stories of their father and be his friend and partner through whatever life decided to throw their way. If Luca was the sun, then his brother must have been a star just as bright. He couldn’t wait to meet him.

Making his way through the crowd, following the direction his mother had once stared so bitterly in, Luca finally believed he spotted him. The boy couldn’t have been much older than he, though the shadows of the tree he stood beneath hid the true answer from Luca. He stood alone, arms over his chest, sniffling as he quietly gazed in the direction of the pyre. Luca wandered over towards him, taking his hand in his own warm grip before the other boy had a chance to react. “It’s okay,” he said, his own voice wavering with the hoarseness that crying brings. “We are brothers in harmony. We’ll do this together.”

______

No brighter could Luca’s smile glow as than it did upon his arrival to the Holy Land. The land was more beautiful than he had ever imagined it would be, lush meadows tickling his grazing fingers in greeting with a river that seemed to babble hello. He could have stayed among this natural beauty for the rest of his days, but then he would have missed the marvels that beckoned to him in the distance. It was practically a utopia, the buildings rising to welcome him as if the city had outstretched arms to embrace him. And if the buildings could not hold him close and whisper welcome home, then the people would, for their heads turned and their eyes sparkled with an eager desire to welcome this man who seemed to bring the sun to their land.

Luca was not yet the gilded knight of bedtime stories and yearning aspirations, but he certainly held himself like one as he took his time walking through the Holy Land. He wanted to memorize the way each stone felt beneath his feet, the smell of every bakery he passed and the sight of all the different fading colors of brick on each building. He wanted this moment to last. He wanted to know his new home as well as his home already seemed to know him. But he could not stay within its tempting embrace for too long, for training began today, and he would arrive eager and ready and hopefully on time, if he had not spent too long lingering already.

His steps began to hasten, nearly getting caught up in a loose vine that had lingered in the street, intent on holding him here to enjoy the moment, but he continued on despite it. Luca’s limbs were eager to do what they seemed destined for, running and fighting and pushing himself further than he ever thought his humble life had destined for. But it was more than just what he would get to do when he arrived that drove him forward with a buoyant breeze in his step, it was who he would get to do all of it with.

Jasper stood just as Luca remembers when he first met him. His back rested against a tree though he stood up straight, his stern gaze straight ahead and his arms crossed about his chest. The younger Riche couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his older brother, even if he hadn’t yet noticed his presence in return. There was something about that expression on Jasper’s face that Luca loved about his brother, the constant contemplation so intriguing. Just once, he wished to know what was at work inside that brilliant mind, though he’d long since learned that simply asking would get him nowhere.

“Brother!” Luca called cheerfully, approaching Jasper. The other finally turned to face his brother, and though his expression certainly didn’t look amused (no, it rather resembled a cross between shock and annoyance and fury, in fact), Luca didn’t seem to mind.

“What are you doing here?” Jasper asked, having not been informed of Luca’s decision to come.

“We are brothers in harmony, are we not?” Luca responded, paying no mind to the rolling of Jasper’s eyes in response. It was all the answer he needed to give. He was here to train, just as Jasper was. “Come, let’s do this together.” His hand outstretched towards Jasper, waiting for the other man’s hand to fit into his.

Instead, Jasper simply walked into the crowd of other hopeful fighters. Luca’s hand dropped to his side, and with a shrug, he followed along, as he always would. CHARACTER INSPIRATION

Abel from biblical lore (duh)

Luke Skywalker from Star Wars

Princess Anna from Frozen

Prince Audric from the Empirium trilogy

Captain America from various Marvel iterations

#accepted #accepted: luca

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myownprivate-johnnyutah · 5 years ago

Text

If Found (Chapter 1)

AN: A Fluff-as-Fuck Penpals Story because we’re in a fuckin’ pandemic and I want to write about yearning, goddamnit. I have no outline, no plan and am just going wild with it.

Synopsis: After losing a notebook in a Brooklyn bar two years ago, Alana Miles has lost a few more things and gained some others. Lost? Her tiny Brooklyn apartment, her first love-turned fiancé, their shared cat. Gained? A small rental house in her hometown, a second book deal, a rescue bulldog and a facelss email pen pal she may or may not be falling for. (AO3)

Wordcount: 1,530

September 2020

It’s a little early to be up for a Saturday, but she cracks open her laptop anyway— careful not to jostle the sleeping bulldog deep snoring across her legs. Alana has tried to let herself sleep in on weekends, lately. With the weekdays full of deadlines, interviews and long calls with her editor normally kicking off before her morning coffee’s kicked in, the few blissful hours of no screens and light-blocking blinds on Saturdays were usually her favorite thing. Usually.

It’s not her fault, though. Because of stupid timezones, there was a message waiting for her that she’d be itching to see and even after years (plural) of back-and-forth emails with her accidental pen pal, the little rush of seeing where the conversation would go next was enough to make her a bit more of a morning person (even when she doesn’t have to be).

To: [email protected].

From: [email protected]

Subject: RE: RE: RE: The Not-Divorce is Finalized!

Sure, okay, I believe you.

I know you said you were fine and I understand I’m maybe half-obligated by the terms of our friendship to take that at face value and instead pivot to asking you about your day or the book proposal or whether you got around to reading that book I sent you (it’s a chapbook, honestly, and you pretty much read for a living). And I will ask those things.

But I wanted to add, RE: your point on “closure not even being a fuckin’ real thing” that I’m not sure if I agree. Provided you’re giving yourself the grace to step away and close the chapters, relationships, painful memories in order to open something up, it’s as real as you want to make it.

But what you’re going through (all of it), it’s draining and exhausting and you’re carrying a lot. Closing a door doesn’t mean everything’s resolved behind the door, just that you’ve resolved to let yourself be on the other side.

I think you’re brave and good, if that helps. And I hope you’ll read that goddamn chapbook so we can talk about it.

Yours,

Welp. That’ll need coffee to respond to, she thought, slowly inching her legs out from under Bruce (who let out an insulted snort before snuffling back into the duvet) and heading out to the kitchen.

Mug in hand, she made her way out to the porch and took in the fall morning: the lake’s got the beginning reflections of red and orange showing through and the smell of burning leaves (they still do that out here) is already making its way to her door. The tiny one bedroom house she’d been renting is about five minutes from where she grew up (where her parents still live). It’s modest (if maybe cramped) but has big windows, a monthly rent that doesn’t drain her bank account beyond recovery and lets her be close to her mom for doctor’s appointments and long meetings with specialists that she trades off with her sister and brother.

She leaves the door open a crack, since Bruce is unlikely to last long in the bed alone before stumbling out to his sunny porch bed, and takes a seat on her own “grown-up porch couch” — an oversized wicker basket chair her little brother salvaged from a friends’ student house and spray painted white to look less wretched, paired with some overly fluffy pillows her twin sister bought her. She cracked open her computer again and tried to figure out how she’d respond.

She tried, not infrequently, to picture KC. She was sure he was good looking, despite that name feeling so deeply undignified and childish for a man in his forties. (Or is he fifty by now? A funny thing about surprise pen pals is you never really exchange birthdates or A/S/L — and, in their case, they just went for the emotional jugular). She imagined a doe-eyed John Cusack-type (maybe a bit more “High Fidelity,” actually) or, of course, a Tom Hanks “You’ve Got Mail” has crossed her mind but neither really ever felt right.

She knew a lot about him, after nearly two years of correspondence. He’s told her about the long scar going up his stomach that he got in a motorcycle accident (how he’ll forget its there even after 20 years); she knows he works in film but simply says “I help people tell lies for a living” when she asks for specifics; she knows he fell in love a few years back, after thinking he was never going to fall in love again (and that he has a gift for emphasizing the sweet of a bittersweet ending) and she know she’s a Virgo with a Cancer moon. He knew a lot about her, too: He knew birds freaked her out, that she was in the middle of final proofs of her first book and the proposal on her second; he knew she broke off an engagement (and thus a relationship spanning nearly all of her 20s) in the last year and reflexively performed being cavalier about it; he knew her mom was sick and that she left the life (the one she secretly wasn’t all that wild about) in Brooklyn to be closer to her.

It’s funny the way these little stories and pieces of ourselves can be assembled to make a person feel so whole and so close, even if they’re thousands of miles away and you’ve never seen their face and you probably wouldn’t have met if it weren’t for the right amount of happy accidents flowing in succession.

He was her happy accident and, if she were the fate-believing type she’d believe it was some of that kismet that brought him to that Fort Green bar on that rainy afternoon. She’d been transcribing some notes in one of her many junk-ish notebooks (full of story ideas, a few email addresses and phone numbers for sources, a scribbled quote, some ticket stubs and a lone piece of gum between the back pages (whoops) — all organized by chaos) and got a call from Brandon, her then-fiancé reminding her that they’d need to leave their Greenpoint apartment for his department chair’s dinner party on the Upper West Side (a thing she’d forgotten she’d agreed to do) shortly and if she was still stopping to grab the wine.

In her rush to settle up her tab, scamper to the liquor store next door and procure a fancy-ass bottle for the academic circle jerk, she left the notebook behind. Luckily, she’d remembered to scrawl her email in the front cover that time —she wasn’t going to let some rando find her address!

KC, as he told her later in one of their subsequent emails, found it and “began trying to decipher its many, many mysteries (the gum, for example).”

She couldn’t be mad, she 100 percent would’ve done the same thing if fate, kismet, the universe’s funky algorithm, who knows, left someone else’s brain-dump to her doorstep. Between that confession (and the charming apology that came with it), the emails just didn’t stop — long after he’d sent the book back.

Despite this two year friendship, she hasn’t seen his face — and only recently heard his voice. She knows he’s older than her 34 years by a not-small amount. (He doesn’t have an instagram or a Twitter and when she asked him why he responded “Oh, that. What would I do with that stuff, really?”) And 95% of the time it doesn’t bother her. But then she sees emails like that and thinks of his deep, thoughtful voice (the calm, intentional pauses when he speaks that make everything go soft and quiet over the phone line) and something in her twitches.

It’s been a long 18 months of being very single and maybe, just maybe it’s messing with her head to have such careful, considerate attention 4-8 (depending on how much they write and how busy they are) times a week.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected].

Subject: Doors Open & Closed — moving on.

KC,

That poet soul of yours is working overtime today, bud. It’s too early for my icy heart to thaw the way it needs to if I’m going to adequately respond, so take this: I know. You’re right. I’ll try. Thank you.

And try to let it be the end of this for now.

I’m digitally and spiritually cleansing this space and cracking open this sad pamphlet of a book you sent me. Stand by for my thoughts.

Chilliest regards (with a gooey center),

P.S. You promised me that shortlist of “films I need to watch now that I work from home and can watch movies all day.” Keep in mind, my attention span is like my love life: short, sad and ridiculous.

She hits send and quickly checks in on the few dangling work emails that couldn’t wait until Monday. It’ll be a few hours before her West Coaster pen pal is up and a few more before he’s near a screen. He’s an early riser, but more of a yoga, outdoors-y, going jogging (ugh) kind than a feverish AM emailer. But she’ll forgive him that one (admittedly well-adjusted) flaw for now.

#keanu reeves fic #keanu reeves x oc #email penpal AU #You've Got Mail AU but not #keanu reeves

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samsexualdeancurious · 6 years ago

Text

Thanks For Listening | Chapter 1

Square: Free Space

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 8,498

Warnings: hurt!Reader, pining, eventual smut, dirty talk, voice!kink, unprotected sex.

Summary: Sam hosts two podcasts - a secret one for hunters called the War Room and a public one with fellow hunter Y/N called Criminal History. Y/N and Sam have never seen each other, let alone met, but that doesn’t stop Sam from worrying when Y/N suddenly goes missing.

Betaed by @manawhaat

Written for @spnkinkbingo

Header by me and Mana

Masterlist - AO3

You rest your elbows on the cheap motel table, leaning on it as you speak into the microphone. "Chief, you've heard my thoughts on this. What do you think?"

There's a pause, the same little dramatic one Sam does every time, and then that rich voice you adore says, "I think he's guilty as hell."

You can't suppress a small laugh at Sam's straight-forward statement. "Well, folks, the Chief has spoken - and the jury has, too. Guilty. As. Hell. Keith Hunter Jesperson, A.K.A. the Happy Face Killer, was sentenced to life without parole and is currently housed in Oregon State Penitentiary. If you want to hear another side of this story, I recommend the podcast Happy Face, which is hosted by Melissa Moore, Jesperson's daughter. Anything else you want to add?"

"Definitely check out that Happy Face podcast, guys. It's a great one."

"Thanks, Chief. Until next time, then, folks. This is Criminal History. Thanks for listening."

You sit back from the mic, both you and Sam leaving a moment of silence where Sam can later cut the recording and add in the outro music.

"How was that?" you ask. "Think we need to go again?"

"No, you were great," Sam assures you. "You always are. You know that."

Your cheeks warm at the compliment. "I know," you say, putting on a little bit of a playfully cocky tone. "I just like hearing you say it."

Sam laughs and your stomach does happy flips. "Fine," he teases. "I see how it is. You're just using me for my voice."

"You caught me," you say with enough playfulness in your voice to hopefully combat the heat in your cheeks, even though Sam can't see that.

You find yourself staring longingly at the computer screen, wishing for the hundredth time today alone that you could see Sam's face. But, unfortunately, voice recordings are easier on shitty motel WiFi than video calls are.

“If you think we’ve got everything we need, I’m gonna stop my recording,” you continue, pushing past your wandering thoughts.

“We’re good. Go ahead and stop the recording.”

You do just that, saving the file and uploading it to a file sharing service Sam found. “File’s uploading now. We’ll see how long it takes on this motel WiFi. I’m surprised we didn’t have any connection issues. The WiFi really sucked earlier.”

“Gotta love motel WiFi. What episode number is this?”

“47 according to my notes,” you reply. “We’re not even to 50 and you’re already losing track?”

“I’m running two podcasts. There’s only so much my brain can handle.”

“What? Sam Winchester’s brain has a limit? Alert the media.”

You can practically hear his eyes rolling. “Ha ha. You still chasing that vamp nest?”

“Unfortunately. I’m gonna meet up with Allen Burton tomorrow. He caught wind of the nest moving south past Moab.”

“Allen. I’m not familiar with that name. He’s experienced?”

“Not as experienced as I would prefer but everyone else is caught up in something or on the other end of the country, and I’m not waiting around for these bastards to kill anyone else.”

Sam makes a soft, displeased sound. “Be careful, okay?”

Your heart warms at the concern in Sam’s voice and you try to play it off with a little joking. “Always am.”

Sam doesn’t fall for your change of tone, though. “Y/N. Please. Vampires are no joke.”

“I know. I’ll be careful,” you promise, suddenly eager to reassure him.

“Call or text me when you’ve got the nest wrapped up?”

“Of course.”

---

Sam is reluctant to end the call. He always is. Y/N is just so easy to talk to, which is part of why they make such good co-hosts. Recording their weekly episodes are one of the highlights of his week.

He reaches over and flicks the switch on the wall behind his desk - the one connected to the “Quiet Please. Recording in Progress” sign and the red light above his office door. This was his own special addition to this room and the wiring was a giant pain in the ass but it was definitely worth it to minimize the sounds in the hall outside.

Someone knocks on the door as soon as the sign and light are turned off. “Come in,” he calls, saving his own audio file to a folder he’ll download Y/N’s to once it’s uploaded.

“Ya done in here?” Dean asks, poking his head in.

“Done with Criminal History,” Sam tells him, spinning his chair around. Another worthwhile investment, his nice desk chair. “Still gotta record an interview for the War Room.”

“I’m Sam Winchester,” Dean says in a gruff voice, stepping fully into the room. “Welcome to the War Room.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “I don’t sound like that.”

“You totally sound like that.”

“Do you have a reason for being here or are you just being annoying?”

Dean holds up a plate Sam didn’t notice he had. “Dinner.”

“Have I really been in here that long?” Sam asks, happily accepting the plate to find that Dean made chicken and rice with chipotle green onion gravy.

“You sure have. You and Y/N must’ve been a coupla of old Chatty Cathy’s today.”

“Yeah, it took us a while to get going,” Sam admits around a bite of food.

“What’s she been up to?”

“Still tracking that vamp nest. It’s moved into southern Utah now and she’s gonna meet up with another hunter, some guy named Allen, to finally take care of it. Well, that’s what she’s hoping for, at least.”

“You two gonna hang out once she wraps that case up?”

Dean shoots Sam a wink and Sam responds with a glare. That only prompts his brother to laugh.

“Seriously, Sammy,” Dean says. “You’ve been digital pen pals for over a year. It’s about time you finally meet.”

Dean’s right and Sam knows he is, but it’s his duty as the younger brother to never admit it. Truthfully, Sam’s dying to meet Y/N. As hunters, they’re both a little paranoid about new people and despite knowing each other for so long, they’ve never actually video chatted, let alone met in person. He trusts Y/N, though. He feels like he really knows who she is, after all their texting and phone calls pre-podcast, all the time they spend just talking ‘off the clock’, and the hours of recorded chat he sometimes edits down into bonus episodes.

In all honesty, Sam likes Y/N. He likes her a lot. He’d never tell her that, though. They’ve got a good thing going and he doesn’t want to ruin that with his own mess of feelings when it’s so much easier to just keep things to himself.

“We’ll see,” is all Sam gives his brother. He drains his water bottle washing down a mouthful of rice and shakes the empty container at Dean. “Can you go fill this?”

“I’m not your butler,” Dean grumbles even as he takes the water bottle.

“Thank you!” Sam calls after him, spinning to put his plate on the desk and really go to town on his dinner. It’s a simple recipe but a delicious one, if a little spicy.

Dean returns with the water bottle just as Sam is scraping his plate clean.

“You’re the best,” Sam says, happily accepting the bottle in exchange for the plate.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean replies. “Don’t you forget it.”

“I won’t. Now get out so I can record.”

As soon as the door is closed behind Dean, Sam flicks his sign on again and swings over to his microphone. He drinks a little water to clear his throat, checks the clock to see that he has a few minutes left until his guest hunter calls, and hits the record button. A thirty-second wait for white noise and then he leans in a little closer to the microphone than he usually does for Criminal History.

“I’m Sam Winchester,” he says, unable to resist being just a little dramatic. “Welcome to the War Room.”

---

Y/N texts Sam right up until she and Allen are headed out to where they think the vamps are hiding, three days after they’d first met up.

She doesn’t text Sam after that.

---

"You've reached Y/N. I'm probably off having more fun than you are. Leave a message."

Sam signs, scrubbing a hand over his face as he enters the bunker kitchen. "Y/N, it's Sam. Again. Please call me as soon as you can." He hangs up, tapping his phone against his hand as he fights the urge to call again.

"She still not answering?" Dean asks from where he's standing at the stove frying bacon.

Sam shakes his head and shoved his phone in his pocket. "It's been almost a week. I'm getting really worried."

"Do you know where the nest was? Maybe you should go check on her."

"Somewhere in southern Utah. I don't know exactly where, though. Last we spoke she said the vamps had holed up somewhere not on a map." Sam slams one hand flat against the door of the fridge before running that same hand through his hair. "Shit, I should've gotten the coordinates from her."

"Hey, hey," Dean says, dumping bacon onto a paper towel and returning the pan to the burner. "I'm sure she's fine. She probably just lost her phone somewhere and hasn't been able to get a new one"

"After a week?" Sam shoots Dean an incredulous look.

"Just trying to think positively."

Sam slumps, leaning against the fridge. "I know. I'm just-"

"Really worried. I know. I can tell." Dean nudges Sam to the side so he can get a carton of eggs from the fridge. "Are there any hunters we know that are in the area and can check on her?"

"I don't know. I think Charlie was in Idaho."

"Well,” Dean says, cracking a couple of eggs straight into the bacon grease that still coats the pan. “Go give Charlie a call."

Sam feels a little better having something he can do right now and he immediately pulls his phone out. He realizes too late that Charlie is in a different timezone, but by some miracle Charlie is just getting back to her car after a salt and burn and answers after the second ring. She promises to head south and see if she can track down Y/N.

"I'll keep you updated," she promises. "It's almost a seven-hour drive, though, and I need a few hours of shut-eye before I get on the road."

Sam nods, stirring a bit of creamer into his coffee. "Do what you need to do. I don't want you putting yourself in danger."

"I'll text you when I'm on the road."

"Thanks, Charlie. I really appreciate it."

"Hey, man. After everything you've done for me? Checking up on someone is the least I can do. Plus, Y/N is a friend, too. But I know you guys are really close and it's not like her to be out of contact this long."

Sam leans against the counter, suppressing another sigh. It feels like he’s done that a hundred times in the last hour alone.

“Hey,” Charlie says gently, seeming to sense Sam’s distress. “We’ll find her.”

“Thanks, Charlie,” Sam murmurs. “I’ll let you get some sleep.”

They end the call and Sam turns his attention to his coffee, fighting to keep his mind from wandering.

“It’ll be fine,” Dean says from where he’s now sitting at the table, mouth full of eggs and bacon. “Eat some bacon and find something to distract yourself.”

“I’ll try,” Sam mutters, snagging a piece of bacon and heading off to his office.

---

Sam’s really glad they’re ahead on recording for Criminal History because he’s able to lose himself in editing and getting the episode uploaded. Then he gets the next episode of War Room ready to go. From there, though, all he has left is to edit more episodes of Criminal History and he just… can't. He can't sit in his office and listen to her voice when he doesn't know if she's even alive

No. Don't think like that. He rubs both palms over his face, trying to scrub that horrible thought from his brain. She's alive. She has to be.

Like this fic? Support me longterm on Patreon HERE or make a one-time donation of Ko-Fi HERE

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @books-and-icecream @laughing-at-the-darkness @tumbler-tidbits @imsuperawkward

Team Sam: @saxxxology

Team TFL: @wonderfulworldofwinchester @kickingitwithkirk @muchamusedaboutnothing @ellen-reincarnated1967

#thanks for listening #my writing #sam x reader #sam winchester #spnkinkbingo

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cncoh-damn · 6 years ago

Text

Late Night Calls

Summary: As much as you love talking to the guys, late night calls with them isn’t always the best thing, especially when timezones are in the way.

Word count: 4,993

Tags: @richukisbb @quierick @mamacamacho @erickspretend1 @whymyeyeslikethat @zaddydejesus @zabdielsdimples @cncownerxcr7 @streamdecero @cncoxpmxvibes @marveloucnco

Wanna join the taglist?

Ah, tests. No matter how good you were at school, there would never come a time when you’d look back on them with a smile. Of course, with this being the last year you’d have to take them (at least, until you decide to go to college), you just can’t afford to flunk a single one. Despite several protests from both your own squad and the boys, you promptly locked yourself in your room with nothing but several cans of Red Bull and one too many snacks that definitely didn’t count as dinner. Of course, you couldn’t really ignore the repeated knocking on your door (courtesy of Elodie, the twins, and Alex) nor could you ignore the buzzing of your phone, no doubt caused by the guys trying to convince you to take a break and actually eat something that didn’t come from a vending machine, so with a sigh, you get off your bed and unlock the door.

Unbeknownst to you, Alex stopped banging on the door roughly half an hour ago, and she’d been put on update duty; sending pictures and telling Zabdiel–who would then tell the others–how things were going on their end. Zabdiel did the same, although he still sent you messages every half hour or so. By the end of your five-hour study session, you swear there would be little grooves on your door from where one of the girls’ bracelets or rings hit. Checking your phone for the notifications, you’re mildly impressed to see the number of messages and missed calls you got, most of them from Erick and Chris. Probably something about your unhealthy habits, but really, you’re not about to listen to them; those two were sometimes worse than you after all.

And that’s how, ninety minutes later, you went back to your room after a somewhat excruciating–but delicious–dinner. As she came from a family that put a premium on academic achievement, Alex was the most sympathetic to your wanting to spend the rest of the night studying, though she was quick to tell you to not “study until you pass out” again. Slipping on a stolen hoodie (probably Christopher’s judging by how it wasn’t too baggy on you), you put on your studying playlist and get lost in your textbooks, a feat more difficult than it would seem.

The hours pass in a blur of flash cards, ink smudges, notes scrawled messily in the margins of a page, and several breaks for you to pop the knuckles of your hand when it feels like it’s about to cramp up from writing so much. By the time you finish, it’s already nearing eleven in the evening, and judging by the lack of noise from beyond your door, the others were already asleep or out. (E/c) eyes glance over the mess on your desk, papers and books and pens strewn around your laptop. You then glance over to the vanity-turned-extra-desk-space in front of your bed, brows furrowing at the mess. Not really the most ideal set-up, especially when everything you needed had to be within arm’s reach, but you could fix it later on. Or once your tests are over, something that seems more likely than the former.

Stretching your limbs, you let out a yawn before your eyes fall upon your phone, a notification light blinking to alert you of, well, unseen notifications. Placing your thumb over the home button for it to acknowledge your fingerprint, you rub your eyes with the other hand as your phone unlocks to show everything you’ve missed.

Thirty missed WhatsApp calls from the guys.

Several puns from Erick telling you to stay hydrated and take care of yourself.

Memes from both Chris and Erick that are related to the subjects you currently had.

Khan Academy videos from Zabdiel and Joel.

And finally, a group selfie from Richard, with all of them looking like kicked puppies. You have no idea who came up with the caption, but you were sure the dorks were trying to guilt you into studying and looking after your health. As much as you wanted to deny it, the fact that they all cared enough to spam your phone with messages telling you to take care of yourself warmed your heart. Needless to say, that picture gets saved to your gallery, where you’ll keep it to look at every time you needed a reminder to look after yourself it’ll stagnate and probably end up buried under the copious amount of memes and videos you save from your chats with the guys.

Noticing that your phone’s about to die–you both love and hate them for spamming it, because that meant your battery got drained quicker than it normally did–, you snag one of the many phone chargers on your bedside table, plugging it into the socket behind your table lamp and leaving it there. Next, you stretch some more before you pad over to your bathroom, fully intent on taking a shower before falling asleep. Hey, you might even get the chance to try out that new body wash you and Joel got from Lush the last time you hung out with him.

You step out of the bathroom twenty minutes later, shea butter-scented steam wafting into your room. Mental note to self, (Y/N): thank Joelito next time you see him, because shea butter smells so good. Plus it felt great on your skin, a bonus that usually came with the skincare products you bought. Yes, where most people bought skincare stuff for the sake of making their skin better, you buy the stuff because it smells good. After you wring out the excess water with a towel, you plonk down on the stool in front of the bathroom counter, a hairbrush in one hand and the hair dryer in another. Five minutes is all it takes for your hair to be just a little damp, and you set the dryer down to brush your hair until it’s no longer wet. Once that’s done, you brush your teeth and rush through the five step skin regime that Iana and Joel set up for you. Yeesh.

By the time your head hits the pillow, you don’t bother with anything aside from getting the blanket over your head as sleep claims you. Too bad you’re not getting the uninterrupted eight hours of sleep you wanted.

CYOA: Pick Your Boy

Christopher Velez:

maybe it wasn’t a good idea for you to set one of the most iconic songs in your music library as his ringtone

but really, Sk8r Boi was the song for him

YES IT’S BC HE’S AN ACTUAL SKATER

plus it was the first song you two ever jammed out to, so it’s got a special spot in your friendship

ANYWAY

as much as you love Avril Lavigne, you weren’t fond of waking up to the guitar riff you always played when you got your hands on an electric guitar

honestly you were tempted to let it go to voicemail because DAMN IT BRYANT, YOU WERE SLEEPY

but you figured that Chris wouldn’t call you at fuck knows what time in the morning if there wasn’t a reason

so you pick up, pulling the micro-USB connector from your phone’s charging port before pressing it into your ear, half your face smooshed into your pillow

“Nena!”

now normally the hyper ball known as Christopher Velez wouldn’t annoy you by simply saying one word, but… you were tired

so you grunt before speaking.

“Hola, Chris.”

bear in mind you were rudely awakened by his ringtone playing, so you’re not in the best mood rn

but he deadass doesn’t pick up on it

so he’s babbling on and on, switching between Spanish and English way too quickly for your still-sleepy mind to comprehend

just as you’re about to yawn, he stops mid-sentence

“(Y/N)? Cuál es tu color favorito?”

you actually yawn while he’s asking, and it takes a second or so for you to realize he asked for your favorite color

“Uhh (f/c),” you say, yawning right after.

he doesn’t say much to you after, and you’re about to let the background noise from his end lull you to sleep

HA SIKE

just as you close your eyes, he makes this triumphant little noise that wakes you up again

and really, you don’t want to rain on his parade (even if he’s keeping you from your precious sleep), so you pull the phone away to let a tiny groan out

(Y/N) wants sleep

pero Christopher, el loco, just had to call you. smh

once you press the phone back to your ear, you barely just get the tail end of what he was saying

and really, you missed the guys (and Chris’ crazy laugh, but shh), but you needed sleep

so you yawn again before interrupting him

“Dude, I miss you and all, pero estoy cansado, chico.”

on one hand, he feels bad. but on the other, your sleepy voice is hella cute so… he has no regrets.

maybe a little guilt bc he knows you needed sleep to help with your test

so he’s all like “Ah, lo siento conejito. Go back to sleep, si? Just call me after your test!”

too bad you fell asleep in the middle of his apology lmao

he was waiting for a verbal response, but then he heard a snore

headass wanted to record it for blackmail purposes but nah

so he just hung up

gracias mucho, Christopher

(Y/N)’s circadian rhythm salutes you

also you called him as soon as school let out so you could tell him you did decent on the test

when you got it back, you sent him a picture. perfect score, hell yes.

lowkey you had to beg him not to post it on his IG. it’d be awkward af, plus it’d fuel some rumors that really wouldn’t be good for anyone

Richard Camacho:

okay, so you really had to set a punk rock song for this somewhat emo lil bish’s ringtone

but rn, you’re regretting it

no, Ronnie Radke, (Y/N) (L/N) doesn’t know why good girls go for bad guys now please shut it

it really suited Richuki tbh, what with him definitely pulling off the bad boy daddy dom look, but goddamnit it was loud

also Good Girls Bad Guys was the first Falling In Reverse song he ever listened to (courtesy of your emo phase that didn’t quite end, just turned lowkey) and he liked it

2012 (Y/N) is thrilled that 2018 (Y/N) has a friend who’s willing to listen to punk rock with her, even if said friend is a bit of a flirt

so he calls you around 4 am your time

you’re still a lil grumpy, but since you were in NREM 1, you woke up pretty easily

doesn’t mean you’re happy about it though

adios eight hours of uninterrupted sleep

but you figure this would happen sooner or later, especially since you and the guys have this sibling-like dynamic now

you pick up ofc, bc you’re already awake and you really don’t like sending any of your friends to voicemail

and he’s just surprised you picked up

there’s a little tremor in his voice and it makes you worry because you’ve never known his voice to not be even because of anything other than anger

or so you thought

now that he sounds upset, you’re a little more awake than before

“Que pasa?”

you usually switch between Spanish and English when talking to them, and it stays that way no matter how sleepy you are

there’s silence on his end for a while, and while it does make you worry more, it makes you a lot sleepier

you swear you’re about to fall asleep before he speaks up again

“No es nada. Just go back to sleep, okay?”

as tempted as you are to do just that, you’re not about to. bitchass had the guts to call you before dawn and make you worry before saying it was nothing? nuh-uh

you love sleep, but you love your friends (and your hobbies) more

“Don’t give me that bullshit Camacho.”

using his last name? he screwed up, and Richard knows it

he’s kinda quiet on the other end though, and you! don’t! like! it!

“Yashel? Richuki? C'mon man, what’s wrong?”

blame it on the fact that it’s like 4 am, that’s the only reason you’re being a softie rn

“It’s nothing. Sorry for waking you.” And then headass fucking hangs up

much to your chagrin

THE AUDACITY

he calls you before the asscrack of dawn, makes you worry, then decides that it’s nothing before hanging up on you? R U D E

like, screw the fact that you only had four or so hours of sleep, something was up with Richard and you’re determined to find out what

so, against your better judgement, you call him

he picks up bc headass didn’t set a different ringtone for you even if you’re friends hmph

“What happened?” literally no hesitation or beating around the bush here; if something was wrong, then you sure as hell wanted to know about it, especially since he called you

“It’s nothing (Y/N). You have a test tomorrow, just go sleep.” and then he hangs up on you AGAIN

by this point you’re cranky and mildly insulted, so you plug your phone back in to charge before you go back to sleep

you didn’t wake up in the best mood that day, ngl

lil bit snappy, kinda sassier than usual

basically your mood was like Joel’s every time he was on Twitter

the bad mood followed you all the way through your test, and it was pretty obvious from how tightly you were holding onto your pen

after school, though, you call him again and hope he doesn’t hang up on you

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong now?”

“Am I a good dad?”

oof this was not something you were prepared for

“The hell are you talking about? You’re a better dad than most are, man.”

as it turns out, he misses Aaliyah and worries that he’s not doing the best he can as a father

and you’re like “???” because the fact that he and Yocelyn are co-parenting means that he’s doing his best

especially given that he’s away on tours and doing promo stuff a lot

and he’s slowly spiraling into this really dark space and you! refuse! to! let! it! happen!

“Dude, listen to me. Yes you’re not around as much as you want to, and yes you may miss some parts of her life, but look at it this way: you’re making an effort to be part of her life, and that’s way more than I can say for most of the guys who accidentally knock up their girlfriend. So chill, okay?”

soft hours have been extended all bc Richuki doubted himself :((

by the end of the call, he’s feeling a lot better

“Gracias, nena.”

“De nada, dude. Next time though? Don’t call me sounding all upset and shit and then hang up.”

he laughed at that, but then apologized, so you’re not annoyed at him anymore

lowkey you’re considering changing his ringtone but… nah

Zabdiel de Jesus

if there was anyone of the guys you thought would know not to call you when you’re supposed to be asleep, it’d be Zabdiel

but nOPE

he called you probably thirty minutes after you fell asleep

and even if Britney Spears is a guilty pleasure, you don’t want to wake up to Womanizer blaring from your phone

sorry Elodie

but it’s blaring and you’re rudely awakened and now you’re sleepily squinting/glaring at the stupid thing as if it would make it stop. it doesn’t.

so now you’re picking it up because damn it, what the fuck could Zabdiel want?

you yawn as you accept the call, laying on your side so you don’t have to hold the phone to your ear

“Que?”

you didn’t expect to hear loud ass bass and what was probably a party on the other end

but you did

and now you’re trying to keep yourself from cussing at him. you two weren’t that close yet, and no way were you going to risk offending someone because they called you at lord knows what time in the morning.

so you take a page out of his book and take several breaths to calm yourself before repeating the question

“Cometí un error,” he groans, and you’re so tempted to just yeet your phone away because fucking hell, he’s drunk! or somewhat intoxicated.

either way, you are not in the right state of mind to speak to a drunk person

“¿Qué hiciste?“ It’s a struggle to not let the annoyance in your voice show, but you barely even manage to hide it. Thankfully, he’s too drunk to notice.

“I screwed up, (Y/N).” The way he says it is almost too pathetic and you sigh.

“Si, you said that. What happened?” There’s mumbling on his end and all you could make out is a name: Gwen. it takes a while before you piece it together, and you facepalm once the puzzle pieces slot together.

he was upset about his ex

his ex that, according to rumors, he cheated on

and then, for some reason, he figured you were the best person to talk to? okay, not the best person, but one of the first people he should call.

you were not equipped for this. nuh-uh.

“Zabdi, that was a whole year ago. Hell, maybe even more.” Really, you wanted to ask why the fuck he was thinking about this now

it’s been a Y E A R

“I really liked her,” he continues slurring into the phone, and you muffle a groan with your hand. did befriending an entire boyband mean that you had to listen to them talk about their exes even if it’s been a year? even if they were probably the cause behind the breakup in the first place?

can you resign from being their friend now? (you say this despite knowing you wouldn’t go through with it. you love the dorks too much)

“Zab, you can’t do anything about it now.” You’re trying to be a nice and comforting voice of reason, you really are, but damn it the bass is too loud and you still have a test later in the day

you don’t know what’s happening on his end, but you think you hear something that sounds suspiciously like a sob

cue another eye roll

“Escúchame, Zabdiel. It’s in the past, si? Nothing you can do about it other than learn from your mistake and no lo hagas de nuevo. Lo tengo?”

there’s a bit of scuffling on the other end, and your brows furrow. the hell was happening?

you get an answer when Clara’s voice comes through, and you blink. huh, guess they were bringing him back to the hotel. or his room, who knows.

“Lo siento (Y/N), the rest of the guys thought he went off with a girl,” she explains, and you muffle a yawn.

“It’s okay, Clara. Just–”yawn, “Make sure he doesn’t puke or something. G’night.”

you hang up before she does, plugging your phone back in before you finally conk out again

during dinner that evening, you ask the girls how to deal with a friend who’s an emotional drunk, just so you’re prepared for the next time he calls you when intoxicated.

after that, you send him a few feel-good texts. mostly stuff that siblings would send each other, so you’re really living up to the familial nature your friendship has begun to take on

Joel Pimentel:

just so we’re clear, the only reason you call Joel more than any of the other guys is because he rarely checks his messages, groupchats or otherwise

that said, you’re surprised when, instead of the first of your alarms, The A Team plays from your phone

it’s weird that he’s the one calling you and not the other way around, but you shrug it off

at least he’s calling around the time of your first alarm

“What,” you deadpan into the phone

“When the fuck were you going to tell me you were at the Infinity War premiere.”

whatever it is you were expecting to hear, this ain’t it folks

“Uhh… never?”

and cue a cranky Joelito ranting about you getting to be there and not telling him so he could’ve tried to get tickets

to which you needed to cut him off

“Bitch, my parents got tickets. Besides, my godfather invited us.”

“Who’s your godfather?”

and cue the silence

“I’m not allowed to say.”

“W H O .”

it goes from this to you deflecting the topic until you decide to bring up your test.

he knows you’re trying to change the topic, but he’s going along with it. he’s been there before.

you start spewing out random facts, both to keep his mind from going back to anything Marvel-related and so you can see how much you remembered from last night’s study session

for the most part, it works.

Joel’s listening to you talk about facts, and every now and then he’d interject with a question, to which you quickly launch into an explanation that spawns even more questions from him

and so you two talk through the next two alarms you set, with you explaining concepts that would probably (hopefully please please please) show up on the test later

“You think I’m going to pass?”

“Hey, if I understood that because you managed to explain it to me, I’m pretty sure you have nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, unless it doesn’t show up on the test.”

“… Don’t jinx yourself.”

you two hang up around the same time, and you’re in a considerably good mood considering he called you to ask how you managed to be at the Infinity War premiere

also it’s shocking how you two didn’t sass each other much during it

come to think of it, what time was it there when he called?

meh, you’ll figure out later. right now, you have to get ready for school, and that uniform tie isn’t going to tie itself.

#privateschoollife

ANYWAY, you get to school and shit, breeze through most of your classes until last period

DUN DUN DUN

test time

you’re shaking with nerves bc the teacher for this one is notorious for giving college-level tests to his AP classes

and even if he’s been your teacher for the past three years, you’re still terrified of failing any of his tests

but one look at the questions had you breathing a sigh of relief.

those were the things you explained to Joelito! you were going to pass!

ngl, you nyoom through the multiple choice questions and double check your math for the ones that need calculations

once school lets out for the day, you find a nice, secluded area near the botanical garden (again, private school feels) so you could call Joel and tell him you’ve got a good chance of passing the test

but when he picks up he sounds groggy af

oh, how the tables have turned

but you’re sympathetic bc he needs to look pretty; his face is one of his main selling points after all

“Hi, sorry I woke you, but I think I’m definitely gonna pass. Thanks for a while ago, bye, love you dude! Get some more sleep!”

how you managed to say that in one breath, no one has any idea.

meanwhile Joel’s just staring at his phone in confusion before realizing you thanked him for helping you recall what you studied

you two didn’t acknowledge the “love you” that got dropped in that quick, minute-long call and you never will

later that night, he calls you again because he saw another picture of you at a Marvel premiere

and this time, you two sass each other until you fall asleep

sass buddies til the end of the line

unlike Steve and Bucky BC THE END OF THE LINE WAS APPARENTLY A CHANCE TO TIME TRAVEL

anyway

it’s back to your regular, sassy program with (Y/N) and Joel. except for when tests come along, especially midterms and finals.

you two have late night calls just for him to help you study

Erick Brian Colon:

after a bit of shifting around in your bed so you can comfortably nestle in your blankets, you finally drift off to sleep, dreaming of getting an Academy Award in the future

as you were about to accept said award, the dream gets shattered when the fucking Guachineo begins to play

along with the shattering of that dream (because damn it, it’s been a near constant goal since you were a kid) comes a rude awakening not even thirty minutes after you fell asleep

as much as you loved Erick (PLATONICALLY), you were going to throttle him, pretty eyes or not

at least, that was the plan until you hear his voice

who knew someone could sound so shaken up over the phone?

okay that was rude and insensitive af but you weren’t expecting this

he literally sounded like he was about to cry, and damn it, this was the baby! this was little bebito Erick on the phone sounding like he’s about to cry and you’re not going to hang up on him.

to be fair, you wouldn’t hang up on any of your friends, but least of all Erick.

so in the sleepy voice you swore never to let anyone but the rest of your squad hear, you yawn out a “Que pasa?”

he’s practically sniffling, and even if he doesn’t quite want you to hear him cry, you’re one of the first people he thought to call, especially since the guys were out at the club

“Extraño a mi familia,” he admits, voice shaking and you just want to wrap the guy in a blanket and cuddle him.

sure you don’t really get homesick much since you don’t live far from your parents, but it’s a wholly different thing for Erick

for one thing, he has a tight bond with his family. for another, he was what, 14 or 15 when CNCO was formed. it was probably the first time he was away from them for a long period of time, and sometimes, it didn’t get easier to bear with the passage of time

“No llora, bebito.” You’re trying to comfort him and all but you’re not exactly the best person to go to when you need emotional support. Hell, you can barely support yourself emotionally.

which brings you to the question: why me

and why when you had a quiz the next day

but this was Erick. not only was he your fellow group baby, but he was little bebito as well

you’re not about to let him be upset like this, not when you could do something about it

one problem though: you have no idea what to do about it. nice.

thankfully, he keeps talking.

as it turns out, it’s not just homesickness he’s dealing with

it’s also the pressure he puts on himself to be as good as the rest of the guys are

to be as charming as Chris, as good of a dancer as Richard, as intellectual as Joel and Zabdiel

and suddenly, you get where he’s coming from. mostly

it’s like an inferiority complex, but also, not really

as the youngest, you two had the most to prove

you two had the most expectations ahead of you

so it’s natural that you’ll end up pressuring yourselves to meet and exceed those expectations

now you know what to do, BUT you don’t know what to say

“It’s okay to feel like that, bebito,” you start, sitting up and pulling your knees to your chest. “Pero you need to remember that you don’t have to be like them. Dejaste de competir con otros when you guys won La Banda. Now, the only competition you need to worry about is yourself, si?”

you really want to baby him, especially with how soft and watery his voice sounds over the phone, but you know he’s not going to like it

as the youngest, you two end up being babied by those who know you as a member of your respective groups

and it gets annoying after some time because you just want to be treated like an adult

so you’re not going to baby him completely

you kind of stick to a soft voice the whole time you two talk

and when you feel a yawn coming on, you muffle it with your hand bc you don’t want him to feel bad

it takes a while before you ask how he’s feeling

but when he says that he’s feeling better, you immediately feel relieved

not just bc this meant you’ll be able to sleep soon, but bc it meant he wasn’t as upset anymore

a crying and upset friend always made your heart sad, but a crying and upset Erick? you were half-tempted to book a flight to wherever they were and give him a hug, exam be damned

“Gracias mucho, nena.”

“You promise you’re okay now?”

“Si. Good night, (Y/N).”

Yawn. “Good night, bebito.”

so you go back to sleep, then wake up when your alarms go off

the school day passes by in a blur, but you’re hurrying to go home bc you wanted to check in on him via FaceTime

so you do, but he doesn’t pick up

instead you just leave him a message in his voicemail

hopefully he listens to it bc as his fellow group baby, he needed to know that you were gonna be there for him when he can’t share stuff with the other guys

literally though, he’s the only one to always bring out your soft side.

but at least you love the dork.

#cnco imagine #cnco imagines #cnco headcanon #cnco headcanons #cnco fanfiction #cnco fanfic #cncowners #christopher velez imagine #christopher velez #richard camacho imagine #richard camacho #zabdiel de jesus imagine #zabdiel de jesus #joel pimentel imagine #joel pimentel #erick brian colon imagine #erick brian colon #director au

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gleeksatnyada · 5 years ago

Photo

↳ OOC INFO

NAME: Steph.

AGE: 28.

TIMEZONE: MST.

↳ IC INFO

NAME: Danielle “Dani” Elizabeth Harper.

AGE: 26.

HOMETOWN: Dallas, Texas.

BIRTH ORDER: Oldest.

GRADE: Senior.

RESIDES: On campus.

MAJOR: Music.

SEXUALITY: Homosexual.

SHIPS: Dani/Chemistry.

ANTI-SHIPS: Dani/Forced, Dani/Dudes.

FC: Demi Lovato.

↳ BIOGRAPHY

The last place Dani ever expected to end up was NYC. For as long as she could remember, she had big dreams of running off to California and getting a record deal. That’s how things worked, right? At least, that’s what she believed growing up. As a kid, she would spend hours singing into a brush while she imagined a huge crowd screaming her name. It was all she ever wanted. She would practice the piano for hours, write songs in her journal, and eventually learn to play the guitar. And she knew that she was good. She could feel herself getting a little better everyday. Nobody could tell her that she wasn’t meant for greatness. At the time, even her parents were completely supportive. They knew how talented their little girl was. They would sign her up for everything. Dancing lessons, singing lessons, talent shows. Anything to help her talent grow and make her shine. Dani had considered herself lucky to have them. They were her number one fans. Everything seemed to be going great. Until it wasn’t.

Dani was fourteen when she started seeing a different side of her parents. They still seemed to support her dreams, but something was definitely off. They cheered her on less and criticized her more. From her looks, to her music, and even her friends. Nothing was off limits. If she dressed a certain way; they would tell her to be more feminine. If a song she had written seemed to dark; they would tell her to brighten up. It was as if she was finding herself; while her parents told her to be someone else. She didn’t understand it. At least, not back then. They were doing what was best for her, right? They wanted her to succeed. It took her two years to realize why her parents were like this. They saw something that she hadn’t yet figured out for herself. They weren’t helping her become the star that she wanted to be. They were trying to mold her into what they wanted. The perfect daughter; she would call it. Except that would never be her. It was at the age of sixteen that she lost her parents completely. All because she fell in love.

Sara was the kind of girl that Dani wanted to be. She was confident; she was beautiful, and she was fearless. There was never anything fake about her. She was just herself. She did whatever she wanted and she got whatever she wanted. And to Dani’s surprise; what she wanted was her. It all started when Dani signed up for her schools talent show. Her parents thought it was a waste of time. They told her she should be focusing her talents elsewhere, but she had something else in mind. This wasn’t for any sort of recognition. She was doing this to have fun with her friends. It was during her first rehearsal that Dani met Sara. She was sitting on stage with her guitar just strumming along. She was having trouble with the lyrics. As hard as she tried, she just couldn’t feel inspired. She had no idea that she was being watched. Sara wasn’t interested in the talent show. She was forced to help setup; along with the rest of detention. Dani still didn’t know why she was in trouble that day, but she heard a rumor that she told off a teacher and threatened to take his wife. She always thought that was funny. After getting to know the other girl; she didn’t even doubt that it was true.

After a few minutes of being watched, Dani finally looked up from her guitar and confronted Sara. She didn’t know why she was watching her, but she assumed it was to make fun of her. To her surprise; she wasn’t trying to mock her at all. She actually just wanted to tell her how good she was. It had been a long time since she heard an actual compliment. She couldn’t help but smile. From then on, the compliments didn’t stop. Sara was constantly telling her how amazing she was. How talented she was or how beautiful. It took Dani awhile to realize that the other girl wasn’t just being nice. She was flirting with her. It really scared her at first. Dani never had any problems with anyone, but her parents had always told her that homosexuality was wrong. The way Sara made her feel felt anything but wrong, though. In fact, besides her music; it was the only thing that felt right. For the first time ever, she could actually be herself with someone. Being with Sara had completely changed her life. In more ways than one.

After being together throughout the school year; Sara couldn’t stop asking Dani when she planned on coming out. Dani knew that asking her to hide their relationship was unfair, but it was the only way they could actually be together. She knew that her parents would never be okay with who she was. She heard it a thousand time. Being gay was wrong. She had convinced herself that they could somehow work through this. They would only have to keep it a secret until Dani was eighteen. Then they could run away and be together. A part of her knew that wouldn’t work, though. Sara had been two years older than her. At the end of the year, Sara would graduate and leave for college. Meanwhile, Dani still had two years of high school left. Even that didn’t stop her from being in total denial. She acted like everything was completely fine. Right until the end of the year. It was the day before Sara’s graduation. She had come over to Dani’s house; looking sad and anxious. Dani knew what was about to happen. At least, she thought that she knew. She really had no idea what was to come.

Dani sat on her bed next to Sara; waiting for the other girl to tell her they were through. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. She knew that her girlfriend had dreams of making it to New York. It was her dream home. She knew she had been accepted to a few schools, so there was really no reason for her to stay in Dallas anymore. Even if Dani had been in love with her. A part of her wanted to ask the older girl to stay. It was only two years; she could wait for her. Then they could go to New York together. She just couldn’t do it, though. It wouldn’t be fair. As hard as it was; she knew she had to let the other girl go. She gave her best fake smile and told her to go. She only had one request. One last kiss. If they were going to go their separate ways; she at least wanted to remember what it was like to kiss her for the very last time. Sara couldn’t deny such a request. After all, she wanted it just as bad as Dani did.

One kiss. That was all it was supposed to be. One last goodbye kiss. Then Sara would leave and Dani would continue hiding who she was. She had no way of knowing that her parents were home. They usually worked late, so she figured the only other people in the house were her siblings. She was very wrong. It was during their last kiss ever that Dani’s parents decided to show up. To say that they freaked out would have been an understatement. She had never seen them so angry before. The two of them started shouting so many things; she could barely understand what they were saying. She can remember the words “sinful,” ‘disgusting,” and “dyke,” being thrown around. She tried her best to deny what was going on, but it was no use. They knew what they had seen. They didn’t even try listening to her. Her mother just shook her head while her father grabbed Sara by the arm, throwing her out of the house. Dani had expected that. Then after a long lecture; they told her she had 24 hours to get out of their house. She hadn’t expected that.

Luckily for Dani, she had a really good best friend. She was taken in by her second family; who showed her the unconditional love and support she thought she had from her parents. Sara had left without a word. Dani couldn’t blame her. They had technically already said their goodbyes. Still, she had hoped to see the girl at least once more before she left. She wanted to tell her how sorry she was. That she didn’t deserve to be treated the way her parents had treated her. It was no use, though. She was gone and Dani had to move on. The next two years felt like they dragged on. Dani was ready to finish school and get out of town. She didn’t know where she was going anymore, she just knew she had to get away from her parents. She couldn’t stand seeing them around. If they came to the school for one of her siblings; or happened to bump into her at the grocery store, they would turn and run. As if they hadn’t seen her. Dani knew that they had, though. They just couldn’t stand to look at her. It hurt at first, but after awhile, she just got angry. How could they do this to her? She was their daughter!

By the time graduation had come around; Dani was already packed and ready to leave. She didn’t have much. In fact, she barely had enough stuff to fill up her backpack. It was mostly clothes, her songbook, and a few things she managed to take with her when she left her parents’ house. As well as her guitar, of course. She always thought that she would have an emotional goodbye with her family. She tried her best to stay in contact with her younger siblings, but that was hard to do when her parents were always watching them. They would talk at school here and there, but even then she tried to keep it brief. She didn’t want her parents getting angry with them, too. She did say goodbye to her best friend and second family, though. They were the reason she was even able to finish high school. If it wasn’t for them, she probably would have had to drop out. She owed them a lot. One day, she was going to pay them back for everything they did for her.

College was never a part of Dani’s plan. She always thought she would go to California, sing for some big music producer, and then get a record contract. Things had changed, though. Plans had changed. Instead of going to Cali, she found herself heading in the opposite direction. New York City. She used to tell herself that she was going for herself. New York would be a great place to make music. If she was being honest, though; she knew that wasn’t the real reason. She was just chasing what she had once lost. She knew finding her ex in a huge city was a crazy idea. The city was huge; and she didn’t even know which school Sara ended at. For some reason, she was determined to find her, though. She had to find her. After a few years, she realized it was no use. She hadn’t landed a record deal, she was working at some crappy diner, and she still had no idea where her ex was. It was hopeless. She had thought about packing up her crap and leaving. She didn’t know where she was going; she just knew things weren’t working out here. She was going to work one mre shift at the diner and then she was gone.

Fate had different plans for Dani that night. She should learn by now to stop making plans, since they never went the way they were supposed to. She wasn’t supposed to sing at the diner that night, but when everyone else refused to get on stage, she just rolled her eyes at did it herself. Instead of doing one of their usual covers, she decided to sing one of her originals. A song she had written when she was sixteen. A song that was unfinished, until she met the girl who would change everything for her. It had been years since she had sung that song. She couldn’t even remember why she chose it. All she really knew was that she wanted to sing something that meant something to her. It was her last shift. What were they going to do? It’s not like they could fire her. Dani had no idea that this choice was about to change everything for her.

Having dinner that night was Carmen Tibideaux. She was the dean for a performing arts college. A place called NYADA. Dani never really thought about going to college, but she was starting to run out of options here. She wasn’t getting any closer to achieving her dreams. Maybe what she needed was to take a new approach. The only issue was being able to afford it. Even if she did keep her job at the diner; she was barely making enough to cover her rent. Carmen wouldn’t take no for an answer, though. She told Dani that she could take a job at the school and live on campus. She would have to work harder than most students there, but she promised her it would be worth it. Dani was a senior now and she truly believes that Carmen was right. She never once regretted going to NYADA, even if it took her awhile to find her place. She truly felt that no matter what came next; she was going to be ready for it. There wasn’t anything that she couldn’t handle.

#taken #taken female #taken harper

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welcometonyadarpg · 5 years ago

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↳ OOC INFO

NAME: Steph.

AGE: 28.

TIMEZONE: MST.

↳ IC INFO

NAME: Danielle “Dani” Elizabeth Harper.

AGE: 26.

HOMETOWN: Dallas, Texas.

MAJOR: Music.

SEXUALITY: Homosexual.

SHIPS: Dani/Chemistry.

ANTI-SHIPS: Dani/Forced, Dani/Dudes.

FC: Demi Lovato.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Ambitious, honest, creative.

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Impulsive, blunt, indecisive.

↳ BIOGRAPHY

#taken #taken female #harper #glee rp #glee au rp #glee multiples rp

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thedaltonsanctuary · 5 years ago

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Welcome AXEL MCCRAE to the Dalton Sanctuary as a SUBMISSIVE RESIDENT. Please send in your blog within the next 48 hours or we will have to reopen your role. You may begin dash activity immediately, no need to wait for anything else once your blog is made.

✎ OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION

ALIAS/PRONOUNS: Azi / They/Them AGE: 27 TIMEZONE: PST TRIGGERS: ANYTHING ELSE:

✎ IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

NAME: Axel McCrae AGE/BIRTHDAY: 40 GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cis-Male / He/Him SUB/DOMINANT/SWITCH?: Submissive STAFF/RESIDENT/VISITOR?: Resident SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Very gay KINKS: Bondage, Watersports, CBT, TPE, M/s, Impact Play, Sensory Play, Marking (Temp & Permanent), Exhibitionism, Orgasm Control/Denial, Bareback, Creampies, Branding, Breath Play, CNC, Double Penetration, Fisting, Flogging, Whipping, Humiliation, Degradation, Knife Play, Rimming, Uniforms, Public Nudity, Wax Play ANTI-KINKS: Vore, Gore, Scat, ABDL, Feet, Age Play, Pet Play

✎ BIOGRAPHY

TW: Homophobia, Assault, Abuse, Death

Axel Buck McCrae was born in Dallas, Texas on January 24th, 1980, but grew up on a farm just outside of Dallas, with his parents, and two younger sisters. Ellie McCrae was a typical stay-at-home mom and housewife, a loyal submissive and in love with her husband, who Axel had grown up with always being home; Buck McCrae, his father, was exactly what you’d expect out of a Dominant farmer, and then some. Rugged, red-neck, homophobic, racist… Though his friends tried to get him to calm down the last two, his father was adamant that bein’ gay wasn’t natural. His sisters were raised to be well-behaved girls and subs. Cook, clean… all that shit, while Axel was raised to be the man of the house- a right proper dominant. He never cooked, he never cleaned, not until he was a teenager, and asked his mom to teach him, without his father knowing. He had always wanted to; She agreed, his father to this day still does not know. They went to church every Sunday; Axel was an altar boy. In high school, Axel played football and basketball. Got good grades, and took mechanics, since his love of cars had always been evident in his life. In high school, he was also out as gay, for the most part. He’d managed to keep it under wraps with his parents, until one day, when his father came home, and caught him jerking off to Indiana Jones. He beat Axel senseless, and told him to get out.

After that, Axel packed a bag and left - he started to hitchhike his way away from Texas. At first he tried to get odd jobs, things that were easy to do - he even had a job in a mechanic shop for a little while, but he wasn’t making enough to actually pay rent or for a hotel room every night, and he had nowhere else to stay. This is when Axel turned to something he hadn’t initially thought about, but he knew damn well he’d be good at it.

Over the years, Axel became more and more popular, finding the places in whatever town he was living in where he’d pick up the richer guys, some of whom would even let him stay the night, get a hot meal and a shower, or would let him stay in the hotel/motel room they’d rent for their little rendezvous. It was what kept Axel alive through his mid and late teens all the way until his early 20s.

He managed to find his way to a bigger city, Chicago specifically, where he got a job at a gay club. He was a go-go boy, and bartender, but continued to do some of his sex work on the side, for the extra income. It helped him to live comfortably, and be able to save up to get somewhere a little less cold than Chicago. While he was in Chicago, he met a man, older, around early 60s, who took quite an interest in Axel. He offered to pay him handsomely if he would solely be his companion, not sexual, but more friendly, for the time being; the man was sick, and only had a few years left. Axel agreed, and was given a place to stay, outside of his apartment, and he got hot meals. Over the time he spent with this man, he had grown rather fond of him. This man was also the one who managed to get Axel tested for his mark, though he was pretty sure already of what he was, but the test made it official. The mark of submissive didn’t shock him, or any of his friends, in the least, but he was glad to actually have it. The old man, Jack, introduced Axel to his son, Rock, a Dominant, who had a garage, and offered to teach Axel how to fix cars, and give him a real job, where he could keep his clothes on, and his dignity. Axel mentioned he used to fix cars and took mechanics back in high school, and that was how he landed the job. What he hadn’t expected from this job was that he and Rock, who he had no idea was gay until a few months later, were going to end up getting very close.

Axel fell in love with Rock, and Rock with him. The two of them were inseparable. While Rock looked after the shop, Axel looked after Jack, and did everything he could. The three of them became a little family unit, something that Axel had truly missed. Within a couple of years, they lost Jack, and it was hard. Axel took over the garage for a bit, letting Rock grieve and honour his father, and would be there for his partner to the best of his ability.

After about 5 years together, Rock and Axel entered a claim. They had all their friends there, and they even went on a nice honeymoon to Hawaii for a couple weeks after. It had been absolutely perfect. They talked about adopting kids together, or having their one friend be a surrogate, since she’d offered. Axel finally had the life he had wanted since he was a kid, the one he dreamed of but could never really talk about. That was all taken away from him.

After about a year after their claim ceremony, Rock was closing up the garage, Axel was at home cooking dinner. A car pulled up to the shop, window open, gun sticking out of it - open fire on the shop and Rock. It wasn’t until a few hours later that Axel got the call from the hospital.

Axel tried to stay at the shop, for Rock, but it hurt too much. He sold the shop, and then moved to New York, needing to be in a city where he could just forget.

He went back to sex work, club work, really the only thing he could do to keep his mind off Rock and off Jack. He lost his family, everything he had worked for.

His boss sat him down one day and told him that having a submissive, of his age, working in the club, without a claim, was starting to cause some confusion. He brought up the Dalton Sanctuary, and mentioned how they were a place that could help Axel heal. He thought about it, and though it was kind of a crazy idea… he was a 40 year old, who never entered a new claim… so his boss was probably right.

#mature rp #ds rp #smut rp #sanctuary:admin #accepted

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damienthepious · 6 years ago

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cutting it close this week fam. one hour left on the clock in my timezone though! still not late to the Lizard Kissin’!

Crawling Along The Hours To You

[ao3]

[Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Established Relationship, Temporary Separation, Pining, Cuddling & Snuggling, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday

Summary: Rilla is quite possibly the most skilled doctor in the Second Citadel. Sometimes, this means she must go fairly far afield to do her work, and Lord Arum and Sir Damien are left to await her return.

Notes: I wrote literally all of this today. This was NOT what I planned to post today initially, but the idea invaded my brain (whY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING). Hope you enjoy? Love y'all! Title taken from Waiting Around Again by Eliza Rickman.

EDIT: now accompanied by INCREDIBLE fanart by @spinningstraw!!! THANK U SO MUCH I SHALL CRY NOW. ]

***

Arum creeps into the bedroom, the claws of his toes clicking softly on the wooden floor of Rilla’s hut, and slinks towards the bed with a deep sigh, his shoulders hunched and his head low.

When his fingers meet the edge of the sheets, Arum only just has time to notice the unexpected shape in the bed before Damien jolts awake with a sharp inhale, sitting halfway upright and blinking furiously against the dark, and Arum leaps a full foot backwards in surprise.

“H-honeysuckle?” Arum growls against his own embarrassment, claws flexing in the air. “I thought- I thought you were staying at the barracks-”

Damien’s startled breaths ease into a relieved exhale when he recognizes Arum, and he runs a hand through his sleep-mussed hair, mussing it further. “I… Lord Arum, I was not expecting… what are you doing here?”

Arum’s tail curls behind him, slithering anxious, and his tongue flicks as he avoids Damien’s puzzled gaze. “I…” his jaw snaps shut a few times, teeth clicking. “I believe I asked first, takatakataka,” he deflects, folding his arms over his chest.

Damien pulls his knees closer to his chest as he sits on the bed, and his breath catches oddly. “It’s- I am being- I’m afraid I am acting rather foolishly,” he says with a distinct waver in his voice. “I couldn’t- I couldn’t stand another night there, another night in a cot that I have never shared with any that I love, another night alone-”

Arum’s body sways towards the knight automatically, the urge to comfort him stronger than his own embarrassment by far, his mortification at being caught eased, somewhat, by the knowledge that Damien is yearning for Amaryllis as much as Arum himself is. The most egregious downside of Amaryllis’ brilliant mind is that she is so often needed by the rest of her soft-headed species, and an outbreak of some magical illness or another in a town near the border of the Second Citadel has resulted in her being called away for nearly three weeks, now.

(”I don’t care about doing a favor for the Queen,” she says with a roll of the eyes as she packs her bags, putting extra care into the arrangement of her tinctures and salves, “but a lot of people are sick, and I know damn well I can help them. I know it’s not exactly ideal, Arum, but it’s my job-)

Arum blinks to clear his mind, then slinks towards the bed, kneeling when he is close so that his eyes are level with Damien’s. This puts him within Damien's reach, though he keeps his claws to himself for now. “And- and why did you not come through to the Keep then, if you felt… if you did not wish to be alone?” Arum asks, soft.

“I did not want to trouble you,” Damien says, dropping his eyes. “I know full well that I can be… overwhelming when my emotions run high, and I have been missing our lovely Rilla quite…” his lip trembles, just barely, and Arum can see a brightness in his eyes even in the dark. “Quite terribly,” he finishes in a whisper. “I’m afraid I have been driving my fellow knights nearly mad with my longing, and I did not wish to bring that home to you. I did not want to be a bother.”

“So you decided to come curl up alone and miserable somewhere that she could not possibly leave your mind instead?” Arum asks, incredulous, and the words are already out before he realizes-

“It seems we had similar instincts on that front,” Damien points out, his lip curling into a playful smile as he reaches forward to brush his fingers along Arum’s shoulder and then down his arm. “It is probably better, this way. Missing her together instead of missing her alone.”

Arum growls low again, but there is no sense in denying the truth of Damien’s words. The Keep has been unbearably quiet without Rilla ducking in and out throughout the day, borrowing supplies and asking questions and bullying him into taking regular meals, and his nights have been twice as maddening, since Damien’s early mornings with his fellow knights have made it difficult for him to overnight at the Keep with any regularity as of late, leaving Arum to sleep alone. It has been far too reminiscent of the past for Arum’s comfort, too similar to how his life had been before. When he slipped into his own bedroom tonight and realized he could no longer catch Amaryllis’ scent on the air it had snapped his willpower in two, and the Keep had not even teased when it opened the portal to Amaryllis’ home for him.

He sighs, then climbs up onto the bed, pushing Damien back and slipping under the covers beside him until he can drape his entire body along the furnace-heat of Damien’s skin. The bed here still smells of Amaryllis, subtle and sweet, herbs and flowers and the soft soaps she uses for her hair, and alongside the brighter, more urgent scent of Damien’s skin (linen and feathers and the permanent stain of ink on his fingers), Arum finally feels steady again. He feels as if Amaryllis could be just a room over, working late, soon to join them.

“You are… probably correct,” Arum admits, only when he can breathe the words into Damien’s hair instead of the open air of the room. “I could not possibly leave you alone now anyway, honeysuckle. Entirely unacceptable, you wallowing in loneliness when I could so easily keep you in my clutches instead.”

Damien laughs softly, his fingers dancing light down the scales of Arum’s back. “I will need to wake early to return to the Citadel in time tomorrow,” he warns. “I would not blame you if you would rather-”

“I ‘would rather’ take what moments I can with you, honeysuckle,” Arum growls, and then he sighs, nuzzling against Damien’s cheek. “And… and I would rather not be alone, either. The pair of you have caused me to grow far too dependent on your presence, you unscrupulous creatures.”

Damien hugs him closer, knowing Arum’s grumbled complaint for the quiet admission of love that it is. “It won’t be long until she returns to us,” he says softly, as much to assuage his own longing as to comfort Arum. “The Queen assures me that the crisis is almost entirely averted, and Rilla is staying merely to ensure that her treatments will last. We must… we must simply be patient, and she will return in no time at all.”

Arum has never been particularly adept at being patient. He growls, twining his tail around Damien’s leg, as if it were at all possible to draw him closer. “Of course,” he hisses, unconvincing and unconvinced.

Damien pauses, and after a moment presses a kiss to the crook of Arum’s neck, by the edge of his frill, and then tucks his head against Arum’s shoulder as if he were always meant to fit there. “I hadn’t realized…” he pauses again. “I have… I have endured Rilla’s absences before, as her skills have always been in high demand. I hadn’t considered that this is the first time since we… since us, that she has been called away.”

Arum grumbles under his breath, nothing that quite approaches actual words.

“It is… I am glad you are here with me now,” Damien says softly, his lips still brushing Arum’s scales. “It is easier… the pain of absence is lessened when we may commiserate and comfort each other in turn. When there are still arms to return to, still a heartbeat and steady breaths with which to lull each other to sleep.”

Arum does not like the thought of Damien alone in Amaryllis’ absence, truly alone, before the three of them. Damien alone seems like an unnatural state of affairs. And… Damien is right, about the lulling. Damien’s hands, Damien’s heart, Damien’s heat; Arum can feel it drawing sleep towards him like a tide, here in the safety of Amaryllis’ room. He knows he cannot match Damien’s words, though, and he does not try. Instead he simply draws his own hands as soothingly as he can across Damien’s skin, through his hair, down his back, purring low and deep.

“Sleep you should, honeysuckle,” he murmurs. “Go back to sleep, and when we wake together, we shall be one day closer to when she will return to us.”

Arum can feel the curve of Damien’s smile against his scales, and the sweetness of the creature in his arms could drown Arum if he let it. He nuzzles against Damien’s hair, nudges his snout against his temple in an almost-kiss, and settles to rest in the comfort of his arms.

Some sunrise soon, Amaryllis will return to them. In the meantime, they can endure if they endure together, for a little while longer at least.

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #lord arum #sir damien #amaryllis of exile #VERY MUCH HOPE Y'ALL ENJOY #HOW MANY FICS CAN I END WITH SLEEP? LOTS APPARENTLY #crawling along the hours to you

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