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itsamejin · 4 years

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the one that got away || hendery angst || part 2 (finale)

Part 1

Summary: Some days you don’t regret the decision to leave him, but most days you do.

Warning: self-hatred, insecurities, mutual pining

Genre: angst, fluff, mutual pining

Pairing: Hendery x reader

Premise: You two broke up and that should’ve been the end of it, but he sends you a message and all of a sudden it isn’t.

Commission Request: @iron-lix

Word Count: 4,164 words

—

hey, its guanheng. just got your new number lol, wanted to know if you would like to catch up sometime and talk? Idk… just text me back if u want to

You were tempted to delete it, bury it in your trash bin along with all the other concerned messages Guanheng sent you before you blocked his number. It would’ve been the right thing to do, to end any sort of contact before you could hurt yourself further. Insecurity nagged at the back of your brain, yet you find yourself texting him back anyway.

if you want

Short. Simple. Enough to get the message across, but not enough to make him think you were desperate. Did you come off as desperate? Please, don’t make him think-

omg

u actually replied!!

how are you???

and im free on sunday

do u wanna meet up then?

The bombardment of texts brought a sad smile to your face. It really was him. It was Guanheng. No person used question marks as liberally, no person sent that many texts consecutively. You hesitate to answer. Too much could go wrong for you to risk seeing him again. You could break down in tears and be left in the dust, similar to how you had left Guanheng just a year earlier.

You convinced yourself that there was nothing left to talk about, there was no more closure needed. You two broke up cleanly and it should stay that way.

i’m doing fine, and yeah i’d love to :)

Your thoughts contradict your actions and you find yourself burying your face in your hands, frustrated at how easily you agreed. What the hell was wrong with you? You blocked him for a reason, you wanted to get over him. Agreeing to “catch up” with an ex wasn’t getting over him. You would only end up missing him more after all was said and down.

What made you think that you deserved to see him after all you had done?

—

At a small cafe on the outskirts of Macao, you reconsider every decision you made that led up to this point. You fiddle with your fingers, wondering why you even decided to paint your nails like he’d even pay attention to them in the first place. You scratch at the polka-dotted dress you wore, cursing at yourself for wearing his favorite color- pink. You purse your lips, regretting putting on such heavy makeup to hide the dark circles that formed underneath your eyes from the sleepless night you had. You couldn’t get a wink of rest knowing you’d see his face again after so long.

You should’ve just stayed home, should’ve just blocked his number as you did all those months ago.

“Hey,” a gentle voice calls out, interrupting your negative thoughts. “Wow, I can’t believe it’s actually you.”

You look up from your lap, Guanheng staring at you with the brightest smile on his face. He takes the seat across from you hesitantly as if he still wasn’t sure he came to the right table. No one recognized him here in this reclusive cafe, but he still couldn’t find it in himself to relax. Especially with you in front of him.

“It’s been a while,” you smile sadly. Your voice was shaky and Guanheng noticed. He noticed everything.

“Did you order yet?” he asks, equally nervous, but with a large grin on his face. His hand reached out to grab a piece of paper on the table thinking it was the menu. Sadly, it was not. You giggle slightly at his awkward expressions as he slid it back to where he got it from.

“That’s the placemat,” you inform him. “They were planning to give us the menu when you came.”

He cringes at himself. ‘Why do I always find a way to fuck things up?’ he cries in his mind. Guanheng thought he could’ve introduced himself more smoothly.

“Y-yeah,” he scratches the back of his head. “I probably should’ve known that.”

You two sat in silence even as the waitress planted the menu on the table. You let Guanheng order for you, surprised he still remembers your favorite drink. You wonder if his stayed the same too.

“...and I’d like a black coffee,” he smiles widely, bidding the waitress goodbye. He sees the small scowl etched on your face, but doesn’t quite know why. He used to never drink black coffee. It was too bitter for him and he always overreacted when the liquid would touch his tongue. You couldn’t believe that had changed in just a year- just like him.

You inspect his face blankly as he chatters about something nonsensical, trying to fill in the silence that you had left him with. Guanghen’s hair is shorter now, trimmed in a way that highlighted his boyish features perfectly. He wore a dress shirt, cuffed at the elbow. He wouldn't have been caught dead looking so suave in the past, opting for comfortable hoodies and beanies so ill-fitted that they hid his eyes. You were looking at Hendery, a version of him that existed on magazine covers and photo cards. You clutch the ends of your dress. See [Y/N]? He’s fine without you.

He stops his talking when he notices your lack of enthusiasm. You used to love hearing him talk, but you looked at him with such emptiness that he wondered if his voice was grating in your ear. He stares at you too, a sad glint in his eyes. Your face, although beautiful, was tired and sunken. You had a dullness in your complexion. You no longer glowed as you used to when he was yours- or to put it in terms that he liked better- when you were his. You shake him out of his own wallowing thoughts.

“How’s Korea?” you ask, knowing he had been promoting there recently. You hear from his friends that he loves it there, that the European-esque streets of Macau got too boring for him. He liked the hustle and bustle of Seoul, the capital of entertainment and fast-paced living. “Your new album doing well?”

Guanheng is happy that you asked, afraid you had lost interest in his work after the breakup. He was so afraid you had lost interest in him.

“It’s been great!” he nods thoughtfully. “We’re planning something soon, so I only have a week here before I go back. It’s been hectic...”

You purse your lips. It must be rough on him, only getting to stay with his family for such a short period of time. Guanghen must miss it- all of this. The city, the humidity, the people... maybe not you, but maybe the memories that came with the relationship. You sure miss it too.

“How about you?” he breaks the silence, noticing that your glances were drifting off somewhere else. “Anything interesting going on in your life?”

You shake your head and give a fake smile. He hates seeing it. Guanheng would prefer for you to curse him out than for you to act fake towards him. It’s like you couldn’t let your guard down with him... and he used to be the only person you let your guard down with. This wasn’t how usually were, but then again, he hasn’t seen you in a year. Could you have changed so drastically that the sight of his face made you that uncomfortable?

“Nothing notable,” you sigh, staring past him rather than right at him. “I’ve been thinking of moving out of Macau for a fresh start, you know? Somewhere new...”

‘Somewhere that doesn’t remind me of you,’ you say silently to yourself. You see a flicker of a pained expression, but you get distracted when the waitress delivers water to the both of you. You stir the water with the straw, glad you found another distraction to keep yourself from making eye contact with Guanheng.

“I wouldn’t have an excuse to visit,” he says teasingly, but you could feel grit in his tone. “if you weren’t here.”

You blink rapidly, not quite registering his words. What was he saying?

“What about your family? Your friends?” you question. There were a lot of things that came with this city, it’s not like you were the only one living here. You figured you’d be the last thing on his mind these days. Guanheng just shrugs.

“They visit me often,” he sighs. “But you don’t. You never visit.”

He gives a sad chuckle, sipping from his cup lowly. Your mouth opens, but not a sound comes out and so you close it again. How were you supposed to respond? Guanghen sighs at your silence.

“You blocked my number.”

Your heart cracks at the sound of his voice. He played around with the straw, refusing to look at you. He sounded... sad and you wondered if the reason for his sadness was you. Weren’t you usually the reason?

“Guanheng-” “You don’t have to say anything,” he stands up straight, a panicked look on his face. He realized then that he made the atmosphere even tenser than it already was. “I’m not here with any other intentions except to talk to you. I know... I know that...”

He couldn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t know how to without sounding desperate. ‘[Y/N] I know that it’s been a year, but would you like to start over even though you might not have feelings for me anymore?’ Yeah, no way he would be caught dead saying that out loud- not when you looked at him with such emptiness.

“What’s wrong Hendery?”

You wonder why the person with the brightest smile in the world had such furrowed brows as he looked into your eyes. And maybe that was your first mistake. Calling him by his stage name.

“Hendery?” he scoffs.

“I’m sorry,” you say a little shocked at his angry expression. “Did I overstep-”

“Why would you call me that?” he asks with sad eyes. “Why are you treating me like I’m a stranger?”

Your last chance at getting closure and you had said something wrong that made him uncomfortable. You blew it, didn’t you? Of course, how could you be such an idiot?

“I’m so sorry I didn’t-”

“Hendery,” he repeats, still shocked at your words. “You never call me that. Not even when we dated.”

Dated. Past tense. He wasn’t yours anymore and you needed to accept that. Guanheng was right there telling you to. You were out of your mind for thinking this was going to turn out like you expected, that he would walk back into your arms without hesitation.

“I can’t do this,” you say abruptly, standing up from your seat. “Guanheng I’m sorry it was a mistake even meeting up with you.”

“[Y/N]-”

You walk past the table, feeling bad for the cafe workers that were oblivious to your sudden outburst. You took out your wallet from your shoulder bag, setting down cash to make up for the food that hadn’t arrived at your table. The worker stared at you with large eyes.

“Ma’am-”

You were already out the door, tears threatening to spill over. Guanheng came to talk, came to have a chat with an old friend that happened to be his ex-girlfriend and all he got was an awkward conversation that showed how broken you were without him. You walk and walk, missing the bus stop that you were supposed to wait at until you hear rapid footsteps behind you.

“[Y/N] wait-”

Guanheng wraps his fingers around your elbow and pulls you to face him. You couldn’t bear to look at him, staring at your feet rather than his face.

“Just let me walk you to the bus stop. It’s dangerous for you to walk alone,” he says, the hand that was on your elbow was shaking. “I’m sorry for acting weird back there. It wasn’t even something serious and I freaked out over nothing-” “No,” you say shaking your head, pulling his hand away from you. He felt empty now that you were out of his reach. “I was the one that overreacted.”

“Don’t,” he says sadly. “Don’t apologize to me.”

You finally gather the guts to look up at him directly, but you regret it almost immediately. You notice up close that he’s still the scared kid who couldn’t believe he was called in for an audition by a massive foreign company. It makes you want to embrace him, comfort him from all his worries, and tell him that it’ll be okay. Except it isn’t. It hasn’t been for a while.

—

Under a flickering streetlight, you sit at the bus stop’s bench with tense shoulders. He sits farther away from you, careful of the watchful gazes from the public and any sneaky cameras around patiently waiting for him to mess up.

“I miss taking bus rides late at night,” he admits, not looking at you in fear of people watching. “It feels different somehow.”

You smile sadly.

“Yeah. We used to ride one from school together.”

He nods, biting the inside of his cheek. Words used to flow naturally when he was with you, but he had to go and mess it up at the cafe by feeling offended over something that was trivial. So what if you called him by his stage name? It's been a year since he’s last seen you- of course, you’d have been more cautious about what to call him. He was stupid, so hopelessly stupid.

“I miss the rivers too,” he mutters. “I miss those overpriced boat rides tourists would pay for.”

He chuckles sadly, reminiscing of a time when you had gone with him. When you were his and he was yours.

‘Most importantly I miss you,’ he thinks to himself, but he balls his hand into a fist before he could say anything else. You hated this, hated that he always held back before saying the most important thing.

“Guanheng,” you start, heart beating rapidly from your chest. “Why did you want to see me?”

His eyes waiver and you could see it glisten in this light. Did you say something that made him uncomfortable yet again?

“I just,” he swallows, not finding the right words, “wanted to see if you were doing okay.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he replies, “I feel like you’re doing fine.”

‘Without me,’ he screams in his head. Guanheng doesn’t notice you bowing your head or the tears that had started to form in your eyes. He was too caught up in his own tears that threatened to spill over, but he convinced himself to hold it in.

“Well, I’m not,” you broke out with a cry, already knowing you were past looking pathetic. You let the tears fall onto your lap. He doesn’t notice at first, but Guanheng snaps his head to you, no longer caring about his surroundings. He slides closer, patting you on the back.

“What's wrong?” he asks worriedly. “Did I say something again?”

“No,” you say, looking up at him and he swore his heart sunk at that moment. Even when you broke up with him your eyes never looked this hurt. Guanheng didn’t even know he had that effect on you anymore. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Well obviously I did if you look like this right now,” he says angrily, more at himself than at you. He wipes away the tears from your eyes, but it only made you wail harder. He was still so good at comforting people, still so gentle. You wished that he wouldn’t stare at you with such caring eyes and give you false hope- hope that he wanted you back just as much as you wanted him. It wasn’t right to be feeling this way when you were the one that broke up with him. You had no right.

“I’m so sorry,” you cry out, holding onto his arms to steady yourself.

“What are you sorry for?” he asks worriedly. His eyes, too, were turning red.

“For ignoring you when you needed me most.”

A silence falls between you two and his grip on you tightens. This was a conversation you two should’ve had a year ago. He didn’t quite know why it was being brought up now, but at least now he can ask what he’s been dying to figure out.

“Why did you block me?” he questions solemnly. “Why did you agree to be friends and then just cut me off like that?”

You purse your lips.

“I’m sorry for-”

“Please,” he begs, hands letting go of you. “Answer me just this once.”

You try to gather yourself but fail miserably. How could you when this was potentially the last time you’d ever see Guanheng again?

“I was scared,” you answer truthfully.

“Of what?”

You take a deep breath and sigh.

“That you might hate me.”

Guanheng tips your head to face him, a serious look on his face.

“I’d never hate you.”

He looked at you with such softness- the kind you haven’t felt in so long. At that moment you could trust him, at that moment you felt like everything would be okay.

‘It’s alright if he does,’ you think to yourself. If he hates you then fine, but you needed to tell him one last time. Then there’d be no regrets. Maybe then you’d have the guts to finally leave, start anew in a place that didn’t remind you so much of him, but that’s probably impossible to do because Hendery was the sun itself, and you were just you.

“I still love you,” you whisper solemnly, “and I hated that you let me go so easily when it was so hard for me to let go of you.”

His mouth falls open and you swear you see hurt in his eyes, so you turn away. Regret always came after your worst decisions.

“You thought I let you go easily?”

A stray tear had fallen down his cheek.

“I’m so sorry I-”

“Stop being sorry,” he pleads. “I hate hearing you apologize when it was my fault too.”

You look up at him, confused.

“I should’ve fought harder for us,” he continues. “I should have told you that I loved you back then and that I could’ve made it work. I can’t believe you thought I was okay with breaking up. I said we should stay friends just so I could have an excuse to talk to you again and you kept ignoring my texts and I thought I was being annoying and-”

He always used to ramble a lot when he was anxious. Guanheng takes a deep breath and puts your hands in his. The bus was not coming anytime soon.

“What I’m trying to say is,” he mutters. “I still love you too.”

You shake your head, refusing to believe his words. He just felt sorry for you, he didn’t mean-

“I tried dating other people,” he says matter-of-factly, breaking your heart a tiny bit because you hadn’t. You never tried to venture past him because it had always been him, always.

“Guanheng, why-”

“But it just didn’t work out,” he cuts you off, swallowing his saliva nervously, “because they weren’t you.”

You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off again.

“I sent you text after text asking you to take me back,” he sighed sadly. “But I never sent them because I knew you wouldn’t even see them anyway. I told the guys about you and they said it was a lost cause, that I should move on.”

“But you didn’t,” you whisper, touched by his words. Guanheng shakes his head.

“I didn’t,” he smiles as he intertwines his fingers within yours. “And maybe it’s messed up to say this, but I’m glad you didn’t either.”

You laugh with him, the tears dried by now. You look at him, his eyes crinkling so beautifully as he smiles.

The bus came seconds after under the flickering street light where you two share a chaste kiss. His lips tasted the same and you can’t help but grin.

It was still him. It was still Guanheng.

—

He walks with you, his hand bumping into yours one too many times that he just held yours in his. It didn’t feel real, being so close to him again. Maybe you had gone through hurdles to get to where you two were now, but at least he was back where he wanted to be- by your side. You two talk about anything and everything and let a comfortable silence fall in between you two when there wasn’t a need for conversation.

Guanheng asks you what you watch recently. Netflix documentaries. You ask him what songs he listens to nowadays? You cringe when he says Justin Bieber. He laughs when you laugh, walks at the same pace as you, calls you pet names. It’s like he never left, but you knew that in a week from now, he will leave. And maybe you’ll go back to wallowing in your own sadness again.

You’re already at the steps leading to your house, but he refuses to let you go, so you let him inside. He smiles at the lack of change.

“My stuff’s still here,” he says in awe, picking up the small robot figurine that was propped up on your coffee table. You fluster at his words.

“I didn’t have the heart to throw them away,” you mutter. He smiles at you.

“Do you still have my clothes here?” he asks. You panic.

“Oh, do you want them? I can go-”

“So I can stay the night then, right?” he asks seriously. You wonder if he thinks himself a comedian. You punch him in the arm with a puff of your breath.

“We haven’t even seen each other for more than a day and you-”

“Not like that,” he chuckles, realizing what he had implied with his statement. “I just want to sleep here. With you. Innocently.

You stare up at him, unconvinced.

“Aren’t you worried that I’ll get kidnapped?” he whines, giving you those puppy dog eyes that you missed so much. You miss him so much.

You click your tongue at him, walking to your bedroom as he follows right behind. You scathe through your closet, pulling out the comfy clothes he always wore. You could never admit to him that you’ve been sleeping in them for the past year since he was gone. He takes them from you.

“Then I’ll go change,” he says with a cheeky smile. You roll your eyes, getting dressed for bed as well. Guanheng takes a seat on your bed and lays down next to you. He watches you silently for a while before he starts stroking your hair.

“Move to Seoul with me,” Guanheng jokes casually. You take him seriously for a second, but notice the Cheshire grin on his face and decide to play along.

“I don’t know anyone there,” you pout, squeezing his hand lightly.

“You know me.”

You roll your eyes.

“You know that’s not enough,” you scoff. “I need a job, I’ll miss my family and-”

Why were you taking this so seriously? Your face heats up with embarrassment. How could you let yourself be carried away by his simple teasing?

He smiles at you, patting your head softly.

“Then, I’ll just keep coming back to visit, I guess,” he replies. “Unless you’re still planning to leave?”

You pondered for a bit. You did need a change of view, a change of pace. You had spent a year in this apartment wallowing in self-pity. It wouldn't be so bad to move somewhere new, would it?

“If I go to Seoul,” you start off hesitantly, “What does that mean for us?”

He looks at you, confused. The atmosphere had turned somber without him noticing.

“What do you mean?”

You hesitate to ask, still confused as to where he stands. Dating an idol was hard, you knew that. Did he?

“Will I be your girlfriend again?”

He scoffs.

“I thought that was a given.”

You smile, but there was a hint of sadness in your eyes.

“I’m not good at being there for you, Guanheng,” you admit. “I have so many flaws and you have to put up with so many of them-”

“You put up with mine,” he says, inching closer to you. You shake your head.

“I’m not a good girlfriend.”

He shoots you a glare, pulling you into his arms and burying his face into your hair. Guanheng hated in when you talked about yourself like this.

“You don’t have to be,” he says. “I want you to be [Y/N], not just my girlfriend. You just have to be okay. I want you to be okay.”

You feel the prick of tears in your eye and nod into his chest. You need to trust him. You have to.

“I’ll try,” you say, drifting off into sleep. “This time I’ll try.”

And this time he won’t let go.

—

A/N: Super hard writing this because it’s been like uhhhh more than a year, but I’m glad I got to do it. Thank you @iron-lix for commissioning this and being so sweet and patient. I hope this was up to your expectation! Check out her blog for cute WayV fics!

I’ll be starting on my drabble game after I finish my last two commissions. Writers block is starting to get to me guys, so I’ll try to pace myself better in these next few days. Again thank you to everyone for being so kind in your messages and asks to me. I really feed off the positive vibes, you guys really know how to make me feel special T^T

give me a coffee?

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supertmntgirl · 4 years

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Angel Dust x Fem!Reader Ch.3

Hey y’all, I’m actually early! The reason being is that I was actually able to get through the Disney College Program application process a lot faster than I thought I would. While waiting for my phone interview, I decided to knock this out right away so I could spend the rest of my time preparing for it. Anyway, onto the chapter.

Summary: After a sudden accident and some misspoken words, your new found friendship with Angel Dust may come to an unexpected end, or will it?

After that night at the bar, things kept getting better and better for you. In the following months, you excelled at work even though the studio kept bringing in more and more editors and technicians. Since you had been there for so long and you had so much experience, you were promoted to head of your department. This meant that you got your own corner office and a huge raise.

Not only did your work life improve, but so did your social life. Angel Dust had been able to bring you out of your shell like no one else had. Anytime there was an excuse to go out, whether it be to party, help Cherri Bomb defend her territory, or just to hang out. Angel would grab you by the arm and take you along with him. You didn’t mind though, every minute you spent with him was arguably the best time you ever had.

Vix started to get jealous of how much you enjoyed spending time with him. She even accused you of having a crush on the gay pornstar, which you completely denied. Even though you held no romantic feelings for him, you couldn’t deny the fact you two had a special connection. What that connection was, you weren’t entirely sure. But little did you know, that connection would soon be tested in a way you least expected it.

Early one evening you were in your apartment taking a long shower. There had been a lot of problems with a new payment system the studio started using that took nearly all of your time and attention to fix. Even with all the progress you made, you weren’t able to completely fix the problem which stressed you out to no end.

You hoped that the hot water running down your body would wash away the stress from the day. An agitated sigh escapes your lips, realizing only half of your stress was gone. Turning off the running water, you step out of the shower and grab a towel from the nearby rack.

‘Maybe Angel or Vix will want to do something tonight.’ you think to yourself as you wrap the towel around yourself. Opening the bathroom door, you walk out into your empty apartment. At least you thought it was empty, not realizing that someone was waiting for you.

“Hello (Y/n)~”

You scream loudly and stumble backwards a few steps. You turn towards the voice and see Angel Dust laying on your couch in a seductive way. You take a few breaths to calm down as Angel starts to chuckle.

“How the fuck did you get in here?!” you exclaim while pulling your towel around you tighter.

“You left one of your keys at my place. Thought I might return it.” he responds calmly while standing up.

“You could’ve just texted me you had it.” you point out, feeling your face burning up as Angel started walking towards you.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asks while stopping right in front of you. You shudder slightly as his lower left hand brushed against your knee.

“I didn’t know you had another scar.” he whispers in your ear while gently caressing your knee right where the scar was. “I wonder where this one ends~” He slowly drags his hand up your leg. You slap it away when he was just short of the end of your towel. You had gotten used to his flirtatious ways, even finding some of them to be rather adorable. But this was going way too far, even for him.

“That’s enough Angel.” you say quickly while sliding away from him to get to your closet.

“Aww~ what’s wrong? I thought you liked me touching you like that.” he says playfully as you grabbed a pair of pajamas out of your closet.

“When I was fully clothed and in public when it didn’t mean anything. It’s different here.” you respond while pulling the clothes close to your chest. You start to walk back to the bathroom when Angel grabs your arm, causing you to look back at him.

“It suggests us crossing a line that I don’t want to cross with you.” you say while trying to pry his hand off your arm.

“Come on (Y/n), don’t be cruel.” he purrs while gently pulling you closer to him, causing you to start trembling.

“Angel let go!!!” you yell as you ripped your arm out of his grasp. As you stepped backwards, you slipped on the puddle of water that had started to pool at your feet. You lost your balance and fell backwards, causing you to drop the clothes in your arms. Closing your eyes, you felt the hard floor as you landed on your side. Groan in pain, you grab your shoulder and slowly sit up.

“Oh fuck, I’m sor-“ Angel cuts himself off, making you look up at him. He was leaning over to help you up but he appeared to be frozen with a look of shock across his face. Slightly confused, you glance down to see what Angel had in his hand. Horror hits you like a truck as you realize it was your towel.

Looking down, you find yourself staring at your naked form. You feel tears forming as you fold your arms across your chest. One tear falls as you cross your legs to hide the remains of your former life.

“(Y-y/n) I-“

You cut him off by snatching the towel from him, not even daring to look up.

“Get out….” you mumble while covering yourself up the best you could.

“I-i didn’t-“ Angel started before you glare up at him, cutting him off.

“I said….GET OUT!!!!” you scream at him, causing him to stumble a bit before running to the door. He pulled it open and slammed it shut behind him. You hear his hurried steps getting further and further away. As soon as you couldn’t hear them anymore, you let the flood gates open as tears roll down your face.

“I can’t believe that happened….” you choke out while curling up into a ball. You didn’t even bother to get up from the floor, still caught up in the horror of Angel catching you at your most vulnerable. It was safe to say that you didn’t go out that night.

~~~~Time Skip~~~~

A week had passed since Angel had payed you a visit and you haven’t talked since then. You were trying to avoid having the uncomfortable conversation you knew you had to have, too frightened about what Angel now thought about you. You had planned on telling him you were transgender, but you didn’t mean for him to find out so soon in such a way. You were worrying so much about everything that happened, you had a hard time concentrating at work.

You groan in frustration as you made yet another mistake in the current project you were working on. Turning off your computer monitor, you push your chair away from the desk. Rolling your shoulders, you groan as you felt the shoulder you landed on pop.

‘I need to talk to Angel before I lose my job….’ you think to yourself while cracking your knuckles to loosen up your fingers. A knock on your door shakes you out of your thoughts.

“I don’t have time to look over your video editing Sai. Ask Ella.” you call out as you reached over and grabbed some papers out of your mail box.

You hear your office door creak open, making you sigh in annoyance. You look up at the door to yell at who you thought was Sai, only to find a bashful looking Angel Dust peaking his head through the crack.

“Not Sai….” he chuckles nervously. You didn’t share his forced amusement as you went back to the papers in your hands. Angel lets out a shaky sigh as he opens the door and slips into your office.

“Can we talk? About…ya know?” Angel asks while closing the door behind him. The door clicking shut made you look up at him.

“I’d rather not talk about this here.” you say quietly before putting the paper down again and pretending to focus back on your computer screen.

“We have the privacy. No one would try entering your office with the door closed.” Angel says reassuringly while taking a few steps closer to you.

“I said not now Angel.” you reply in a harsher tone then you intended to, causing Angel to flinch slightly. A few seconds of silence pass before Angel slams a hand down on your desk, making you look up at him.

“When can we talk then?!” Angel exclaims, starting to pace back and forth in front of you. “You blow me off for a fucking week and now that we’re actually in the same room together, you just want to ignore me.”

“That’s not it Angel….” you say gently while turning towards him.

“Then what is it then?!” he asks while leaning against your desk and bending over to look you in the eye.

“I was planning on telling you that I-“

“-Have a dick?” he interrupts you, causing your heart rate to increase as you felt your skin start to heat up.

“Please don’t say it like that.” you say with your voice shaking a bit, trying to keep your anger under control.

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal outta this. I’ve had plenty of customers that were trans.” Angel says, causing you to give him a death glare.

“I’m not one of your customers Angel. I am supposed to be your friend, who you should respect enough to at least try to understand why this is so important to me.” you respond while slowly rising out of your chair.

“What’s there to understand? You’re transgender, so what? It’s not a big deal.” Angel states while crossing his arms. You freeze for a second, his words cutting through you like a knife.

“Not a big deal?” you repeat, causing Angel to roll his eyes.

“Yeah. It’s not a big deal.” he replies. It took every ounce of your self control not to let the flames slip out from your fingertips.

“You’re right, it’s not a big deal that I was born a male….” you start to ramble as your anger continues to build up inside of you.

“It’s not a big deal that I was bullied for being more feminine than all the other boys. It’s not a big deal that I had no idea who I was until I found out that I was a woman trapped in a man’s body at the age of 15.”

Angel watches as you start to walk around the length of your desk.

“It’s not a big deal that I died because of others seeing me as a freak. It’s not a big deal that I have to spend eternity in hell being stuck as half man, continuing to feel as though I am pretending to be someone I’m not.” you continue, stopping in front of Angel who was now completely silent.

“If me feeling as though I’m trapped in my own body and thinking that everyone around me knows I am a freak. Then yes Angel Dust, it’s not a big deal that I’m transgender.” you finish, making sure to put the emphasis on Angel’s name to get a response from him.

“I-I didn’t….t-that’s not what I….” Angel stutters, causing you to huff in annoyance. You grab his arm tightly and drag him over to the door.

“Until you figure what to say and how to properly say it, you and I have nothing left to talk about.” you say while opening the door and throwing Angel out of your office. You were able to see the hurt look he gave you before slamming the door in his face.

~~~~Angel’s POV~~~~

Angel stared at your office door for a long time, trying to process everything that just happened. You had just told him so many things that bothered you in life and in death, but that was barely the tip of the iceberg. Angel slowly stands up and rubs his arm gently. The fabric of his suit jacket felt slightly different than it normally did under his touch, even with his gloves on. He looks down and sees a scorched hand print on his sleeve where you had grabbed him. A horrible pain filled his chest as Angel looked back towards your door. He had just made you as mad as Chad did back at the bar. Just that thought alone made Angel sick to his stomach. He didn’t know what to say, do, or even think. He just started walking.

Angel didn’t pay attention to where he was going as he made his way out of the Porn Studios building. As he was walking down the streets, demons watched and catcalled him, but he didn’t notice any of them. He just kept replaying everything you said in his head over and over again. He was only vaguely aware of where he was as he walked into a nearby coffee shop. He walked towards the nearest empty table and plopped down. So many thoughts, questions, and feelings swirled around inside of Angel. But the one question that always came back more than anything else was “What now?”. Angel was forced out of his thoughts by a sudden back hand to the head.

“Ow! What the fuck?!” Angel mumbles as he rubs the back of his head.

“What the hell did you do?”

Angel looks up and sees a very pissed off Vix sitting down across from him.

“What?” he asks, still in a daze from his previous thoughts and from getting hit.

“I’ve been trying to get in touch with (Y/n) for the past 3 days. About ten minutes ago she said that she didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. When I asked why, guess what she replied with.” Vix responds, causing Angel to shake his head slightly in response.

“She said “Ask Angel Dust”. What the hell did you do to her?!”

Angel flinches at her harsh tone and slowly looks down at his hands. He felt like he was being put on trial, which he basically was. After a few shaky breaths, Angel tells Vix everything that happened that led up to this moment. He made sure to lower his voice at the more sensitive parts of the story. Once he was done, Vix could only stare at him in disbelief. Neither of them spoke for several minutes, which only made Angel Dust feel even worse than he already did.

“I didn’t think (Y/n) could get that mad at someone other than Chad.” Vix whispers while gesturing to Angel’s sleeve.

“What should I do?” Angel asked with his voice cracking, trying hard to keep his emotions under control.

“I don’t think there’s much you can do right now.” she responds, causing Angel to look down at his hands once again. Angel barely moves when Vix gently takes one of his hands into her’s. “Whenever she gets like this, it’s best to let her cool down before trying to talk to her again.”

“And when will that be?!” he snaps back, causing Vix to jump at his sudden mood change. “Sorry….it’s just that I don’t want to become someone who she can’t even look at without getting mad….like Chad.” Angel looks down at his sleeve and gentle feels the burnt fabric.

“That won’t happen.”

“How do you know that?” Angel looks at Vix with misty eyes, causing her to squeeze his hand comfortingly.

“I’ve never seen anyone help (Y/n) open up more than you have. I’ve known her practically since day 1 and I’ve never once seen her as happy as she’s been with you.” Vix says while standing up and pushing in her chair. She goes to Angel’s side and gives him a one armed hug. “She’ll come around, just give it some time.”

Angel watches as Vix walks out of the coffee shop, leaving him alone. Angel lets Vix’s advice sink in as he thought of what to do next. Logically, it was a good idea to let you calm down a bit before trying to talk again. Plus, it would also give him time to think about what he would say once you did meet up again. But there was something in the back of Angel’s mind telling him that was a bad idea. He couldn’t help but feel that the more time you spent apart, the more you’d end up resenting him. Angel’s head told him to wait, but his heart told him to act now. As Angel debated at what he should do, his gaze slowly went back to his ruined suit sleeve. Angel lays his hand over your hand print, knowing exactly what he had to do. Angel quickly pulls out his phone to check the time. The bright screen told him that it was almost 8:30.

“She should be home by now….” he mumbles to himself while putting his phone back in his pocket. Angel stands up and races out of the coffee shop, heading straight to your apartment building.

@hazbintrashftw

#hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #angel dust #angel dust x reader

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songsforfelurian · 6 years

Text

Heith Fic: Deep Pressure

Hi all! I got so many notes on my previous post that I decided to branch out and start a smaller piece focusing on Keith/Hunk! I’m guessing it will be 3-4 chapters total. I’m going to keep the rating at Mature for the bulk of the story, and then consider doing an Explicit add-on, depending on the level of interest.

Quick warning... Keith has self-deprecating thoughts about his issues with physical touch, so if that sort of language bothers you, please exercise caution.

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender

Relationship: Hunk/Keith

Additional Tags: Keith has a sensory processing disorder, Hunk gives tolerable hugs

Words: 4398

This chapter takes place during Season 7, Episode 9: Know Your Enemy. Read it under the cut, or over on AO3!

“Hey, Shiro? Hold up, a second?”

Keith caught up with Shiro, Pidge and Allura on their way out of the massive hangar that housed the Atlas. The room was buzzing with activity, but Keith could sense the stillness of the ship, the eerie silence of a powerful thing deprived of its purpose.

“Hey, Keith.” Shiro spared him a strained smile. He told Pidge and Allura to go on without him, then turned his attention to Keith, maintaining eye contact in a way that let Keith know he was really listening.

He made a mental note. He’d always known that Shiro was a talented leader, but he hadn’t always paid attention to the particular qualities that made him one. Not until recently, anyway. Not until he’d started worrying about trying to become one, himself.

“I’m worried about Hunk,” Keith told him. “That briefing was brutal. Lance and Pidge are coping because their families were here waiting for them, and… well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Hunk lose his cool, like that.”

Shiro nodded. “What do you think we should do?”

“Well… I think someone should go talk to him.”

“Mm. Yeah. Someone should.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Keith caught his meaning.

“Me?”

Shiro raised his eyebrows. “Why not?”

Keith shook his head. “Bad idea. I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“You noticed he was upset. You know what’s bothering him. I’m sure you can figure something out.”

“But-”

“Keith.” Shiro put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, applying the perfect amount of pressure. It had taken patience, practice, and trust on both sides, but eventually, Shiro had come to understand and navigate Keith’s challenges with physical touch. “You’re learning how to lead them in battle. You have to learn to lead them when they’re grounded, too.” He flashed him a smile. “I know you can do it. Just give it a try.”

Keith gritted his teeth. Shiro always knew how to give him a mission, a goal to pursue. He didn’t take no for an answer, and he didn’t entertain any of Keith’s doubts.

Keith just had to figure out how to measure up.

He found Hunk in a workshop down the hall, venting his frustration on a piece of equipment he couldn’t readily identify. Hunk was obviously distressed, and Keith briefly considered making an excuse and ducking out of there – what good could he possibly do? – but he remembered what Shiro had said, and he resolved to give it his best effort.

“Look,” he told Hunk, “I’m not really good at talking with people, and I don’t expect you to open up to me, but if there’s ever anything on your mind-”

He stopped, listening carefully as Hunk launched into a rant, venting his fears and frustrations. Keith had always thought of Hunk as an optimist – sometimes, to a fault – and he grew increasingly more concerned at the hopelessness he heard in Hunk’s tone as he talked about his family, and about the loneliness he felt.

Keith knew what it was like to feel hopeless. And he was no stranger to desperate loneliness, either.

He thought about all the times Shiro had pulled him back from the brink. Shiro always knew what to say, always knew exactly what Keith needed to hear in order to keep moving forward.

He always knew how to give Keith a mission. Maybe Keith could give Hunk one, too.

“Look, Hunk,” he said. “I never told you this, but of all the paladins, you’re the one I’m most impressed by. It’s no secret that you’ve always been the most scared, but… you’ve never backed down. Never. And to be brave is to go on in spite of fear, and that’s who you are, Hunk.”

Hunk was looking back at him, wide-eyed and attentive. This was good. He was on the right track.

“I know you’re scared,” he went on, “but your family… they need you to be strong, right now.”

Hunk looked down at the floor, and Keith felt a pang. Was it too much? Too blunt? Too personal? This was a terrible idea, he had no idea how to comfort someone-

His musings were cut short when Hunk threw his arms around him and hugged him tight.

He felt his limbs go momentarily rigid, his typical response to being touched without warning. But then he felt himself relax, felt an involuntary smile spread across his face. The pressure was good: just the right amount, firm and calming and-

And then it was gone, and the loss of it was more grating than the initial shock of it had been.

Hunk was walking away from him.

“Where are you going?”

Hunk gave him a determined look.

“I’m going to get my family.”

Keith smiled. They both had a mission, now.

“Not without me.”

“Keith?”

“Yeah, man?”

Keith had been about to swipe himself into his quarters back at the Garrison barracks, but he paused to take in the serious expression on Hunk’s face.

“I guess it was pretty risky, going to see my family, like that.”

Keith nodded.

“Worth it though, right? Now we know where they are. We know they’re okay.”

“Well, yeah, but I meant… why did you come along? You didn’t need to do that. We could’ve gotten in so much trouble…”

Keith scrambled for an answer to the question he’d been asking himself all night.

“Well… you’re my friend. I was worried about you, and… I mean, I want to save them, too.”

Keith’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. Hunk’s lower lip was trembling, like he was about to cry again, and Keith wasn’t remotely prepared to cope with that scenario.

“Besides,” he went on, hoping to steer the conversation back to safer territory, “the last time they threw me out of this place, I got promoted to Paladin of Voltron. I doubt they’ll try it again anytime soo- hngh-”

Every cubic centimeter of breath rushed out of his lungs as Hunk caught him in a crushing hug. He dug the heel of his hand into Hunk’s shoulder – too much too much too much – and Hunk loosened his hold, though he didn’t let go.

“Sorry, man. Too tight?”

“Yeah.”

“Is this better?”

Keith battled his flight response, forcing himself to examine the sensation objectively. It was something he’d practiced with Shiro and, eventually, a therapist, once he’d grown tired of flinching every time someone laid a hand on his arm or tried to shake his hand.

It was better. Hunk had stumbled onto the perfect amount of pressure, almost effortlessly. Keith felt his anxiety level plummet, felt himself leaning against Hunk’s chest, felt his arms sliding around Hunk’s shoulders of their own accord.

“Yeah. It’s… better.”

Hunk’s chin was resting on his shoulder.

“Thanks for coming with me.”

“Sure, man.”

Keith let his chin rest on Hunk’s shoulder, too.

The moment stretched.

“I guess we should get some sleep,” Keith said. He didn’t let go.

“I wish. I can’t imagine sleeping right now. I’ll probably watch a movie, or something.” Hunk loosened his hold and stepped away. There was a faint blush in his cheeks.

“Uhm. A movie?”

“Yeah. Pidge recovered all our files from… from before. Lance and I had a huge media library, back when we were roommates.”

“Oh. Okay. I guess Lance will want to watch, too, right?”

“Nah. He’s with his family, still.”

“Oh. Right.”

Hunk raised a hand to the back of his neck. “Yeah. So… I’ll be across the hall. I mean, if you can’t sleep, and you want to, like, hang, or something.”

“Oh… okay. Uhm. Thanks, Hunk.”

“Sure.” He hesitated, then said, “’Night, Keith.”

“Night.”

Keith watched him swipe into his quarters, watched the door slide shut behind him. He stared at it for almost a minute before he moved again.

Keith turned the conversation over in his mind while he showered, rinsing the dust of the ruined city from his skin. At first, he’d thought Hunk was just being characteristically friendly, inviting him to spend time together. But Lance and Pidge – his best friends, the people he relied on most – were busy spending time with their families, experiencing the reunions they’d been so desperately hoping for ever since they’d first been stranded on the other side of the universe. For tonight, at least, they were safe. They were home.

And Hunk’s family may as well have been a galaxy away.

Keith dried himself off, taking care to rub a towel through his hair until all the excess water was gone; he didn’t like the feeling of droplets falling onto his face and shoulders. He dressed in a clean set of black underclothes: a close-fitting, high-necked, long-sleeved shirt and slim-fitting leggings. Even though they were technically part of his paladin armor, he preferred them to any of the other clothes he owned. The material was soft and smooth, the fit snug and satisfying, tight enough to banish the itchy, creepy-crawly sensation he experienced when he wore the wrong kind of clothes.

He sat down on his bunk, where Kosmo was curled into a ball, fast asleep. He ran his fingers through the wolf’s sleek, silky fur for a moment, thinking.

Then he snapped his communicator back onto his wrist, left his quarters, and knocked on Hunk’s door.

“Keith?” Hunk looked confused, and a little concerned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I…” Keith shrugged a little. “I couldn’t sleep, either.”

Hunk broke into a sunny grin; it was a relief to see, after everything he’d been through in the last twenty-four hours.

“Sweet! You hungry?”

“Uh… yeah, I could eat.”

Hunk stood to the side to let him pass. His quarters were practically empty, like all of theirs were. They’d only brought the bare essentials with them from their lions; none of the personal belongings that might’ve made these rooms feel like home. And what would’ve been the point? They were temporary, anyway.

Just like everything else.

“I was making space burritos!” Hunk said, with much of his typical enthusiasm. Space burritos was code for whatever ingredients I can find, wrapped in bread. “You can have this one, if you want.” He gestured to the finished wrap on the small table in the corner of the room.

“Thanks, man.” Keith walked toward the table, but Hunk stopped him, taking hold of his forearm.

“Shit, hang on, I forgot-”

Keith twisted out of his hold, knocking his hand away with a sharp elbow.

“Ah-”

Hunk took a small step away from him, holding up his hands. Keith cringed.

“Shit, Hunk, sorry… I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay!” Hunk looked flustered, apologetic. “I… uhm… I forgot I already put sauce on that one. You like yours on the side, right?”

“I… yeah. I do.”

“No worries, man. I’ll make another one.” Hunk avoided his gaze and moved to the table. “My library’s up on the viewscreen, if you want to look through it.”

Keith felt the back of his teeth grind together. Why was Hunk always so incessantly nice? It was grating, at times like this, when Keith didn’t feel like he deserved it.

He swallowed the angry notion, converting it to a quiet sigh, then turned toward the viewscreen in the wall and started tapping through a series of folders. He wasn’t actually looking at the files, though. He was trying to figure out what to say.

“I… I have a thing,” he blurted.

Hunk didn’t look up from the ingredients he was arranging on top of the circular, grain-based wrapper that vaguely resembled a tortilla.

“Huh?”

“I have a thing,” Keith repeated, with emphasis. “When you grabbed my arm, I-”

“I know,” Hunk said, looking at him, now. “You don’t like to be touched, right? I’m really sorry, man. I suck at remembering that kind of thing. I’ll work on it.”

Keith shook his head. “No, you don’t need to do that. And it’s not really like that, anyway. I don’t mind being touched, as long as it’s…”

He made an inarticulate gesture. Hunk raised an eyebrow. Keith let out a small, frustrated groan.

“It’s complicated.”

Hunk shrugged a little.

“Sounds like a sensory processing disorder.”

Keith blinked.

“Yeah, it… how did you know that?”

“My cousin. He has a hard time with bright lights, loud noises, certain foods. He hates being touched by strangers, too. So… want to tell me about it?”

Keith chewed the inside of his cheek.

“I don’t like to be caught off guard. It makes me impulsive. I end up doing things I regret.”

Hunk nodded. “Fair enough.”

“But sometimes… like when you hugged me, earlier… if the pressure is just right, it’s… tolerable.”

“Tolerable?”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “Yes. Tolerable.”

Hunk went back to prepping the burrito, shifting his gaze downward, again. “So you don’t mind being touched, as long as it’s in the right way.”

“And in the right place.”

“And by the right person?”

Hunk was still decidedly staring down at the table, which was a blessing, because Keith could feel the heat of a blush in his cheeks.

“Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Okay. Sounds simple enough, to me.”

Keith exhaled a bitter laugh. “Does it?”

“Sure. I won’t grab you unless I know you want me to. Easy-peasy.”

Keith felt a tug behind his navel.

Unless he knows I want him to?

“Don’t worry, man. No sauce on the inside. I promise.”

Hunk was standing in front of him, now. Keith stared at the burrito for a moment, processing, before he finally accepted the plate.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.”

Hunk tilted his head to one side.

“I’m feeling like you’re used to letting people stomp all over your boundaries. It might not happen so often, if you just explained what they were.”

Keith glared involuntarily.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it took you, like, thirty seconds to explain the whole sensory issue, and it took me, like, a minute to make you a new burrito, and, I mean, obviously this conversation is making you super uncomfortable, and that’ll suck for like, a second, but… don’t you think it’s better that you told me?”

Keith’s mouth fell open.

“I… I guess I don’t want people to have to worry about it. About me.”

“Dude. You’re not an inconvenience. You’re my friend.”

Hunk turned to the panel and started tapping, while Keith stood there in a stunned silence, staring.

“I’m picking something animated,” he said easily, as if they hadn’t just been discussing one of the most private, personal aspects of Keith’s life. “I can’t deal with anything heavy right now. Does that work for you?”

“Uh.” Keith cleared his throat. “Uh huh. Whatever you want.”

Hunk set the movie to play, retrieved his own burrito from the table, and then sat down cross-legged at the end of his bunk, which was directly opposite the screen in the wall. Keith had been ready to drag one of the chairs from the table closer to the viewscreen, but Hunk had left him plenty of space to sit comfortably on the bed, leaving him with an uncomfortable dilemma.

He hated situations like this. It was one of the reasons he typically preferred to avoid socializing altogether. Did Hunk actually want him to sit on the bed, or had he just sat down where he was most comfortable? If Keith sat on the floor or the chair instead, would he be offended? Confused? Distracted? Would they have to talk about it? Keith felt that he was always misreading or overthinking everyone else’s intentions, forever on the brink of embarrassing himself, or offending someone, or upsetting the delicate balance of mutual respect he’d struck with his teammates.

His friends.

He sat down on the opposite end of the bed.

“Have you seen this one?” Hunk asked, gesturing toward the screen, swallowing a bite of burrito.

“I think so. When I was a kid.”

“I don’t even know if it’s any good, but it makes me laugh, anyway. Lance knows the words to all the songs from, like, every animated movie ever created, and he used to perform them, like, fake microphone, costumes, singing at the top of his lungs, the whole deal. We got written up for a noise violation, watching this one. I laughed so hard I thought I was gonna barf.”

Keith let out a small laugh, glad to see Hunk slowly returning to his typical state of high-spirited chattiness. “I can picture it. Lance can be pretty funny, sometimes.”

“He really can. I… uh… I’m glad you guys are getting along, these days. I think he is, too.”

Keith nodded. “So am I.”

They ate in silence for a while, watching the characters in the film swim around their animated ocean. Hunk stood up when he finished his burrito, took Keith’s plate, and then retrieved two bottles of water from a crate in the corner. Keith accepted his gratefully, downing a quarter of it in a single swallow.

“So…” Hunk ventured, once he’d sat down on the opposite side of the bed, again. “Hugs are okay, sometimes?”

Keith fidgeted with the lid of the bottle.

“Uh. Yeah. Sometimes.”

“Because it seemed like… well, I know my cousin likes deep pressure. Or, like, it helps, sometimes.”

Keith didn’t respond. He was surprised to find that he didn’t mind the questions – it was actually a relief, to have the subject raised in such a casual way – but he was having trouble figuring out what to say.

“So… does it feel good anywhere else?”

Keith risked a glance in Hunk’s direction. His eyes were locked on the screen.

“The pressure, I mean,” Hunk clarified.

“Uhm. Shiro squeezes my shoulders, sometimes.”

“So he knows?”

“Yeah. He’s the one who helped me figure out why… why I was having so many… problems.”

He could see Hunk nodding in his periphery.

“Okay. Hugs and shoulders. Anything else?”

“Uh. My hands, I guess. Sometimes I would skip our regular fighting drills and box, instead. Something about the impact. But then, they ache after, so…”

He stopped. He’d been rambling.

It wasn’t a thing he was used to doing.

“Okay.” He saw Hunk shift, a little. “Do you want to show me?”

“Huh?”

“I… I could put pressure on your hands, if you want.” Hunk was staring at a spot on the floor, now. “If it would help, I mean. You did something really amazing for me today. I owe you one.”

Keith could feel himself frowning in discomfort and confusion: discomfort, because Hunk had stumbled all the way inside his metaphorical stronghold of embarrassing personal information, and confusion, because he was seriously considering taking him up on the offer. He’d spent all night thinking about the way Hunk had hugged him – couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it, in fact – and as much as he’d been genuinely concerned about Hunk’s well-being, part of him knew he was in Hunk’s quarters right now because he was hoping it would happen again.

It had been… tolerable.

“Okay,” he said, his voice rough and grating to his own ears.

He set his water bottle aside, moved his left hand to the center of the bed, and let it rest there.

He stared at the viewscreen while Hunk moved closer to him, picked up his hand, and held it carefully between both of his own.

He winced.

“Light pressure like that feels… bad,” he said.

Hunk let go.

“Okay. Uh. You might have to tell me what to do.”

Keith swallowed. “When I was younger, Shiro would say, Too much or not enough? Like, until he got the pressure right. So… you can squeeze my fingers, and I’ll tell you.”

Hunk picked up his hand again, held it firmly at the wrist, and gave his fingers a tentative squeeze.

“Not enough.”

The pressure increased.

“Just right.”

Hunk nodded. “Easy enough. Just hold it, like this?”

Keith examined the sensation. Hunk’s hands were huge, big enough to encircle all of his fingers, and then some.

The notion made him feel… something.

“Yeah. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

“Sure.”

They lapsed into silence, again, staring at the screen, but Keith wasn’t really paying attention to the movie. He was focused on the pressure encircling his fingers, tight enough that he could feel his pulse throbbing pleasantly there, but not tight enough to cause any true discomfort. He drew in a slow breath, and when he let it go, he felt some of the tension he’d accumulated that night leaving his body along with it. He found himself wishing the sensation would spread – wishing that he could feel it pressing against him from all sides…

He swallowed.

“Can you do the rest of my hand?”

He felt Hunk adjust his grip, so that his fingers were clasped over the entirety of the back of his hand.

Hunk squeezed.

“Too much or not enough?”

“Uh. Just right.”

“Sick! Nailed it!”

Keith smiled at the screen, extending his mind to the new point of contact, enjoying the sensation of being…

Held?

“…your other hand?”

He looked at Hunk, blinking.

“Huh?”

“Do you want me to do the other one? For symmetry, or whatever?”

“Oh.” Keith considered this. Hunk wouldn’t be able to reach his other hand, from here. They would have to get closer to each other.

He didn’t consider it for very long.

“Okay.”

Hunk let go of his left hand. The loss of pressure grated on Keith’s nerves – that, alone, would’ve convinced him to let Hunk hold the other one, if he hadn’t already decided to – so he shifted a few inches to his left. He’d intended to move his right arm across his body, but Hunk had other plans. He got up from the bed and sat down on Keith’s other side, and then he picked up Keith’s hand and pulled it into his lap.

No hesitation. No fanfare.

Just contact. Just pressure.

“Too much or not enough?”

Keith licked his lips.

“Not enough.”

“Damn. I thought I had it, that time.” He squeezed. “Now?”

“Um. Just right.”

“Okay. Second try’s not bad, right?”

“No,” Keith told the viewscreen. “It’s not bad.”

Hunk held the pressure steady – perfectly steady – until Keith told him to move on to the rest of his hand, and then he held that pressure steady, too, without any hint of awkwardness, or boredom, or impatience.

Keith started to wonder how long Hunk would hold on, if he never told him to stop.

“Can you hold hands with your fingers all interlocked?” Hunk asked. They’d been silent for so long that Keith flinched a little, pulled out of his pleasant, deep-pressure haze. Hunk didn’t seem to notice, though. “Or does that bother you?” he was asking. “Having someone’s fingers between your fingers, I mean.”

“Uh. I don’t know. I’ve never tried it.”

Hunk’s head snapped in his direction.

“You’ve never held someone’s hand?”

“Not like that.”

Hunk stared at him, his eyebrows drawn together, his mouth set in a gentle frown. Then he looked back at the screen, adjusted the position of his hand, and interlaced their fingers together.

Keith’s skin started to crawl, from the spaces between his fingers, up to his wrist and forearm, then all the way to his shoulder… he pulled his hand away, shaking it, trying to rid himself of the sensation.

“Shit! Keith, I’m sorry, I thought maybe-”

“It’s fine,” Keith said, trying not to blush, knowing he was helpless to stop it. It was fine. He wasn’t angry, he was just defective, held prisoner by his own involuntary responses, barred from the simplest, most mundane gestures of affection, none of which was Hunk’s fault-

“I shouldn’t have done that, though, I should’ve asked you-”

“No, Hunk, seriously-”

“Are you mad? Please don’t be mad-”

He grabbed Hunk’s hand and held on, scowling pointedly at the floor. They held onto each other awkwardly for a moment, their hands hovering in the air, in the small stretch of space between them, until Hunk slowly pulled Keith’s hand into his lap, again.

Keith let him.

Hunk started to move his hand – back to its previous, more neutral position, Keith guessed – and Keith squeezed, stopping him.

“I can hold hands like this,” he blurted, “if-”

“Okay,” Hunk said, his voice quiet. “Good. It’s… I like this better, anyway.”

I like this better.

I like this.

Keith played the words in his mind over and over while his heart hammered away in his chest. A minute ago he’d been sinking into the relaxing embrace of a deep-pressure calm, and now he was wide awake, tingling from head to toe, trying to control his breathing.

It was exhilarating.

I like this, too.

“Keith?” Hunk squeezed his hand, just a little, just for a second, and the tingling, live-wire sensation exploded upward, traveling along Keith’s arm, settling into his chest. His heartbeat thrummed.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want me to squeeze your shoulders?”

Yes. Yes. Please. I want you to.

“Okay.”

Hunk let go of his hand and turned toward him, and Keith took the hint. He moved until he was facing away from Hunk, sitting cross-legged in the center of the bed. He felt the mattress shift – Hunk was sitting up on his knees – and then he felt Hunk’s huge hands resting heavily on his shoulders, pressing down in a perfectly uniform squeeze.

“Too much or not enough?”

Keith was having trouble finding his breath.

“Just right,” he murmured.

And it was, although Keith was struggling to understand how the sensation could be both soothing and electrifying at the same time. He wasn’t feeling particularly relaxed – he thought he was likely to vibrate right out of his skin, any minute now – but he felt good. Anchored, excited, safe-

Hunk’s arms slid down and around his chest, encircling him, wrapping him up in the pressure and the warmth…

Keith let the air out of his lungs.

“Too much?”

Hunk’s voice was low and close.

“No.” Keith leaned back against his chest. “Just right.”

Hunk’s forehead was resting against his hair.

“Keith?”

Keith felt his heart leap into the back of his throat.

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking I might try to go to sleep.”

“Oh. Okay-”

“And I was thinking…”

Keith felt his hesitation, felt Hunk’s breath catch in his chest, because his back was pressed against it.

“I was thinking… maybe you could stay.”

#heith #voltron fanfic #deep pressure #Voltron legendary defender #originalpost

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ruffsficstuffplace · 6 years

Text

The Viridian Vanguard (Part 21)

In line with what Yang said, the three Furies plus Penny agreed to dedicate the rest of the morning to opposition research.

Reputation-wise, the original Furies were unremarkable. Individually, all of them were still at the lowest possible bracket, and as a team, they were still unranked; all of their official matches were open sign-ups, random selection, or took advantage of Sayuri being a weaver; and none of them were ever mentioned by name in the intros and the ads, much more folks clearly paying specifically to see them.

“They’re what we call ‘Grist,’ newbies and amateurs the management sets against each other to fill up the shows in between the big-name bouts,” she explained further. “Most folks forget about them after their fights, and they usually only get flat fees upfront for their footage, seeing as it tends to be generic highlights, B-rolls, or compilations, like people taking bad hits to the nuts.”

“Seriously?” Weiss asked.

“Yes, seriously!” Yang replied. “Anyway, don’t take their being Dust league to mean that they’re going to be weak! Everyone that rises up past that is a certified badass among decent fighters, and some folks willingly stay there as official, or self-appointed quality control, keep things exciting for Stone and beyond.”

Weiss and Pyrrha started to see just how much dangerous they were as they started renting holos, and watching the original Furies in action.

Fzzssh!

A lightning ball struck a muscular rhino Fae, she gritted her teeth and stiffened as her whole body visibly coursed with electricity, sparks flying everywhere. Keren launched Vigne into the air, a rain of throwing spears isolated the stunned rhino from her allies. Vigne and Sayuri chased them off immediately after, either forcing them to dodge and weave around a flurry of dance-like kicks and slashes from her talons, or blowing them away with a compressed air explosion.

The rhino recovered, just in time to see Keren charging for her; the two of them figuratively and literally locked horns, kicking up huge clouds of dirt as they wrestled.

WHAM!

Keren headbutted her opponent, dazing her long enough to pick her up, and hurl her into both of their teammates’ ways!

Vigne’s eyes widened and her feathers rose straight up, before she tackled Sayuri into the dirt, lightning discharging into the ground, several throwing spears spilling out of her quiver and clattering onto the dirt.

Their opponents smiled as they readied their weapons over their prone forms… then, their rhino friend slammed into them both, sending the whole trio flying and rolling out of bounds, right into the arms of a waiting spotter team.

“That was sloppy,” Pyrrha said, frowning. “She could have seriously injured her teammates, too; left them vulnerable to attack; and caused unnecessary down time in the middle of the combat, not giving any heads-up whatsoever like that.”

“Yeah, that tends to be the reason folks like her stay in Dust league,” Yang said.

The original Furies were eliminated soon after, and they moved on to another match. KO/scoring; objective-based fights like capture the flag; or special rule sets and arenas, they found that the Furies won some, lost some, and generally worked well together, until someone made a reckless mistake (Keren), a risky, flashy, elaborate maneuver ended in catastrophe (Vigne), or they simply ran out of energy (Sayuri).

By 1PM, they wrapped it up, both for lunch, and the Schnee sisters being due at the Terrace at 2.

“… So let me get this straight,” Winter asked as they ate, “you’ve only just registered, haven’t even had a single official match, and already you have sworn enemies, and will be having an important, possibly career-jeopardizing bout with them in a month?”

“Pretty much,” Weiss said as she picked up some more savory pie with her fork. “Looks like that mysterious force that’s been constantly fucking me over has regained its momentum, after its two week break. On the bright side, maybe I’ll finally start becoming desensitized, and this constant cavalcade of crap will start feeling less awful,” she said, before she put it into her mouth.

“Aww, c’mon, Weiss, don’t be like that!” Nora said, talking with her mouth full and gesturing wildly with her hands and utensils as she spoke. “This’ll be a great opportunity for you Furies to earn some serious brownie points with the audience!:

“Fighting for the right to keep your name from jealous rivals? The whole Fae VS Human/Hybrid dynamic you’ve got going? Your reputations each?

“All that’s going to make you stand out from the crowd now—definitely end of act 1 material for your future documentary holo, for sure!” she said, nodding.

Weiss swallowed, and asked, “And if we happen to lose?”

“You can still turn it around to your favour!” Nora replied.

“You can hope that the original Furies become your long-term rivals, matching you rank for rank as you both climb up the ladder, drive each other to improve, all the while developing a deep, mutual respect for one another as fellow Pit fighters, and milking for all its worth in your advertising!

“You can take the defeat as a baptism by fire, that one match you never, ever forget, and flashback to it when you’re on the verge of defeat, before using it to turn the tables and kick ass to victory! Or, you can use as the story for your big motivational speeches, inspiring you and everyone you’re fighting with to win the big tournaments, especially around promotion season!

“Then, when you’re finally in the Etherite league, and you happen to run into the original Furies off-field and set, and you can tell them, ‘Thanks for beating us in that match-up way back when. I’m sure we wouldn’t have made it this far if it weren’t for that fight.’” Nora said, making a poor impression of Weiss’ voice.

“I mean, technically it could go in a whole lot of other, less awesome ways, like you quitting the Pits because you can’t earn enough Shinies to make a decent living out of it, but honestly, I’m not getting that sort of vibe from the conclusions of the arcs you’ve already been through, so I doubt this’ll end up being just a one-off event during the early or middle episodes, before being forgotten entirely as the plot revolves around some other recurring conflict for the rest of this season.”

Weiss, Winter, Jaune, and Pyrrha blankly stared at her.

“Nora tends to see the world in terms of story structure, character archetypes, and how certain works in specific genres tend to go, thanks to all her HV consumption over the years,” Ren explained calmly.

“Before you ask: no, the menders have yet to declare her excessive HV consumption as a problem, as none of her behaviours directly related to it have significantly impeded her daily living, nor caused her or anyone else any clear, significant distress and/or harm,” Penny chimed in as she charged on the counter.

Pyrrha nodded slowly. “I don’t mean any offense, but that seems like an overly simplistic way to understand the world—It’s infinitely more complex and unpredictable than fiction ever could be, for one.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know!” Nora replied. “But in my defense, that’s only when you expect the wrong kind of development and events to happen to a certain character! If you know what role someone is playing in a story, then predicting what’s going to happen next or what they’ll do will be easy—take Weiss being a protagonist, for example.”

Weiss stopped in the middle of bringing more food to her mouth. “Excuse me? No, you know what? Nevermind, can we please switch topics?”

“Sure!” Nora said. “How about the game plan for how you’re totally going to kick the original Furies asses in your big duel?!”

“Eh, it’s really only just vague ideas at the moment!” Yang said, waving her off. “We’ve still got at least 2-3 official match-ups before we tussle with Keren’s team; still need to find weapons Pyrrha wants to stick with; and still need to see just how much Weiss can do while that collar’s still on her.

“Speaking of which: Weiss, do me a favour and try and sign up for combat training today, alright? We need to know ASAP if the worst you can do to someone is throw a nasty snowball at them.”

“Will do,” Weiss replied.

The rest of the conversation moved on to recommendations about Fae weapons and their associated styles that Pyrrha had yet to try and might suit her, before Weiss and Winter headed back to their home and started gearing up for their trip to the Weaver’s Terrace.

With Idun and five other summons in the soul stones on Winter’s belt, and Penny hitched on Weiss’ back like a bag, they headed out.

The Terrace was even busier than usual when they got there, the Water Quadrant surrounded with what looked to be an area-wide, semi-translucent barrier, with numerous warning signs, cycling notices, and numerical counters slowly revolving around it.

Even from the very edge, it was easy to see the giant aquatic and amphibious animals, elementals, and summons constantly diving into and emerging from numerous points all over the water; massive construction equipment and maker/weaver teams working by the docks, the shallows, and the destroyed buildings and trees; and the convoys constantly bringing in materials and supplies from outside, or taking away debris and salvaged equipment from within.

The other three quadrants were no exception to the construction and logistics blitz.

Everywhere you looked, there were canvas tents, mud buildings, and huts so recent the leaves on their roofs were sometimes still fresh, being used as temporary shelters, or upgraded into more solid buildings. Alongside them were no shortage of industrial water pumps; pools of all sizes; and cooling devices from outdoor air conditioners, temperature-controlled enclosures, or even just refrigerators to keep drinking water, beverages, potions, cold packs, and the occasional overheated elemental cold.

The myriad research, projects, and training were still mostly going on as usual, but evidently the crowding was making some of the more space-consuming and adventurous of them difficult—the folks underneath the more fragile huts clearly did not appreciate the air and fire weavers flying overhead and nearly ripping their roofs off.

In spite of Weiss being one of the root causes of this whole predicament, however, it seemed no one really held a grudge against her, or cared to show it to her face; she and Winter were calmly informed of which quadrant they were assigned to for the day, and though heads turned and folks talked, it seemed to be without malice, and they willingly gave them seats on a large flying ship that was about to head out.

Granted, this time, they were expected to help power up the turbines and propellers along with everyone else.

<Weavers, ready?!> said the Fae standing at the fore.

<Aye!> everyone cried back, their summons making similar noises.

<ONWARDS!>

Everyone cheered and roared as the interior lit up with all manner of colours of magic, until they merged into a uniform blue-green. The pipes started to rattle and hum from the pressure, the turbines roared to life, most of the folks and some of their summons broke into a chantey, before the vehicle flew off, into the dense thickets and floating islands of the Air Quadrant.

Eventually, they disembarked a busy shipping dock, the ancient wooden floors crowded with folks, animals, elementals, and cargo moving, boarding or being loaded on the ships landing and taking off like clockwork.

“Weiss! Winter!” Bee yelled over the hubbub, only the glowing, pulsing tip of her staff visible from where the sisters stood. “Over here!”

“I think you should go ahead without me,” Winter said as she watched her summons return to her, each one of them “sweating” and struggling to keep their forms stable. “They all look like they could use a long soak in mana water for a while.”

“It’s fine, we’ll meet up later!” Weiss said, giving Winter a quick hug before she tried to slip into the crowds.

“Try not to cause any more massive disasters in the meanwhile!” Winter called out cheerfully.

Weiss scowled and tried to shoot her a look, but the crowds were already pushing her further away, blocking her from view; with a quiet sigh, she turned her eyes back to Bee’s staff and worked her way through the crush.

“Good afternoon, Weiss!” Bee said as Weiss stepped up to her. “You ready to resume your training?”

“Yes, but is there any chance I might be able to focus on combat?” Weiss asked. “I’m pretty sure this has made my control and excessive output problems non-issues for now,” she said, touching her collar.

“Already way ahead of you, Weiss!” Bee said, grinning. “I’ve been sending out requests to the other teachers to borrow their own students, to make the minimum headcount for a combat class with special cases much like yourself. It was almost dissolved today, actually, but then the one student we needed to make it suddenly came begging for the last slot, right out of the blue!”

“That’s convenient!” Weiss said, smiling. “A little too convenient,” she continued, frowning.

“Is something rubbing you the wrong way about this, Weiss?” Bee asked.

“Just a hunch that the universe is going to compensate for this in the most awful way possible, as usual,” Weiss replied.

Before Bee could reply, she noticed someone behind Weiss. “Oh, speak of the devil, there she is right now!” she said as she raised her staff and waved it in the air again. “Over here, Sayuri!”

For a brief moment, Weiss considered that perhaps “Sayuri” was just a common name among Valley Fae, and that this was an entirely different Sayuri altogether, much like how you could find a great deal of people named “John” and variations thereof...

… But as offended screeching pierced through the air, and a tiny, angry, sparking meerkat quickly stormed up to Bee, she remembered she just wasn’t that lucky.

#the viridian vanguard #rwby #fanfic #white rose

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ask-art-student-prussia · 7 years

Text

The R.R. Phenomena; A Summary and Addition - By Leon Rekjavik

Hello again, ladies, gents.

Epic-essay writer Leon Rekjavik is here again! Today, I just felt like posting more analysis on R.R.’s posts, because, they’ve quite clearly changed since the last time I wrote an analysis on R.R.

For those who have literally no idea who I am, a couple weeks ago, I wrote a long essay where I talked about R.R. in general, as a person, everything, and submitted it to the awesome ask-art-student-prussia blog here, because R.R. is only present here, seemingly. This was back when everyone kept doing those jokes on R.R.

Why do I even write this stuff about some random person who anonymously posts asks on this blog? I don’t know actually, I just feel like I NEED TO, for some reason. To serve some justice to this sweet, person…?

Anywho, now onto the analysis!

———————————————————————————————————

Initially when R.R. came to this blog, they were merely someone who posted these asks to this blog talking about how much they admired the work Mun uploaded onto this blog, but at the same time, talked about themselves in a self-deprecating manner.

Now, when I say “merely”, I don’t actually mean “merely”. When R.R. writes, it’s not just a random ask, they standout with the the things they submit. A lot of time and effort is put into each ask they put through, and they clearly care a lot for Mun as a person, as an artist, etc. There’s a poetic drive of admiration when they send something, yet they always seem to constantly try to remind everyone, that no, don’t see me- see Mun! See how beautiful their art is.

No one knows who R.R. is, which is a shame, but, I think it’s understandable. At this point in time, where a single R.R. post receives 35 notes on Tumblr, anyone who’d claim they are R.R. (even the real one) would immediately be shot down as a fake. Such a case were very prominent some weeks back, when a trashy meme started circling around the blog.

Other than R.R.’s writing prowess, there’s also the mystery of their identity, and that’s what the real interest is with R.R. Who are they? As mentioned in the previous analysis, R.R. loves this blog, clearly a lot, but wants to remain hidden due to their insecurities, however, at the same time, they want some way to be recognised. This is where the signature end to each R.R. post comes, “-R.R.”. This is their trademark, their way of showing the world, yes, I am R.R. and this is the post I send to you, Mun showing my love! In a purely platonic way, of course, or at least assume.

Unfortunately, being the Internet, the trashy-meme became very popular, with people claiming they were R.R., when they clearly weren’t. This wasn’t just a one-off incident. This lasted for several days, and even resulted with R.R. actually writing a post, where they said that they felt that their presence had caused Mun trouble. Now, remember, R.R. loves Mun, this blog, and everything with it. All this attention that had enshrouded R.R. wasn’t why R.R. even began putting posts out with their insignia. They didn’t want attention.They wanted to show their love to Mun and her art. Though, this had an entirely backfiring effect. Now Mun's blog was all about them.

So, R.R. decided to take LEAVE from the blog.

And tragically, this transpired literally right after the submitted an analysis that was made for people to understand R.R. better as a person and to back them up (nobody understands the crippling deprussian I went through, because of that. However, all this information is dumb and irrelevant, because no one cares about me lololol).

R.R. decided to take leave from this blog, because they felt that their love DAMAGED this blog and what it was made and known for to begin with. With this, the silence period began. No posts from R.R., not a sound. People began apologising profusely, some people even coming out from anonymity and saying they were sorry. The blog went back to how it originally was- an art-student Prussia blog. However, a lonely ache remained with those who knew about R.R.

This is a direct copy and past of what R.R. wrote in terms of leaving the blog, in two separate posts:

“I’m very sorry Gil, but this is the last ask I’ll submit. I’m afraid my presence has caused disruption to your blog. Those previous asks from yesterday were not mine. I won’t submit anymore asks after this one with my initials to avoid anymore trouble for you. For those saying I’m doing this for attention, I will probably never reveal my true identity out of fear. So you’ll never know who I am. Farewell, Gil. It was lovely sending asks those few times. I hope you’re successful with your blog.”

“-R.R. (I ran out of characters)”

You see, everyone who posts stuff on this blog either does an M/A! ask, or a question to Prussia or even Mun directly, or just saying stuff, and I quote, “I love this blog. Please have my babies.” No one, and I mean, no one, wrote the way R.R. did. They were special, people loved their pureness, and they missed it.

And then, it happened. R.R. RETURNED, and they returned in a manner worth bragging about, for centuries to come (I am not exaggerating).

“Perhaps one day, when time is nothing but the movement of leaves, and the sun’s died, there will be a moment of solace where everything is just everything, and nothing is just something. The next moment in ‘time’, they will not exist, but with lives so fleeting, even a moment is extensive enough. Their last words will be "thank you”, before they’re suffocated by heat and dust. Humanity’s falling grace would have echoes permeating light years away. -The one who left this blog, R.R.“

They came back, with POETRY. And it wasn’t just any poetry- it was MAJESTIC poetry, as you can see above. This piece got 31 notes- it is rare for an anonymous post with no picture underneath, no nothing from Mun, purely the anon, to get that many notes.

As if that’s not enough, R.R. returned, YET AGAIN!:

"Fatherland, o’ dear noble creature of war. From the moment of your creation, you struck the soil with the sword of your soul, sending tremors leagues away, notifying every breathing being of your presence. Your tenacious nature and valiant efforts bleed through history’s timeline, embedding itself over the course of countless lives. We shan’t forget your existence, for none would be here now without your cause for our effect. You will return to us again, one day, in solidarity. -R.R.”

Can I say I fanboyed/fangirled when I was this, as unprofessional as it is?

(and this is where leon rekjavik gives up on professionalism completely)

LOOK AT THIS FINE ART, MY FRIENDS. THAT IS LIFE IN IT’S PUREST AND R.R. IS GODLY POET. CAN WE JUST LOVE THIS HUMAN BEING, LIKE A LOT. YES, THIS IS THE ONE THAT 35 NOTES HOLY ****!

I honestly don’t care what gender, sexuality, species, ANYTHING you are {(unless you are secretly evil like that anon said;

“…-Anyways, from the very few asks they’ve posted, they seem cute, whether they’re boy or girl. And cute people don’t fake stuff unless they’re secretly evil (omg R.R. please be a pureroll).”}

I LOVE YOUR WORK!

(and this is where leon rekjavik gains their sanity again)

Excuse me for that.

Of course, the R.R. hype sort of came back, with people all but screaming in the ask-boxes about R.R.’s comeback, poetry prowess, just everything R.R. There were some sceptics, but that’s just the general Internet. Everything was back in the flow. Then, some people began to ask… questions. Like, what’s R.R.’s sexuality, what do you think R.R. looks like? I think R.R. is a boy/girl! No, they’re not a boy/girl, come fight me.

And then, R.R. replied, in the most sweetest, most serene way humanly possible:

“To those who wish to know my face, look away from hither, for you shall not find the answers you seek for. Whether I find myself interested in boys or girls is nothing special. For now, why not enjoy the sweet summer that rains down from the sky, for it only lasts a few months before it’s a memory again. Leave your homes and walk bare-foot on the grass, feel the wind on your face, hear the nature around you. We don’t know if we’ll have a future where such luxuries exist. -R.R.”

They have talent, and I don’t care what anyone says. Fight me.

This new era of R.R. is obviously a way of R.R. showing their love to this blog, by submitting a form of art, poetry! And Lord, does it compliment the blog so well with the was they weave the words…

——————————————————————————————————

I wanted to write more, but I can’t…

Anyways, that’s a summary/analysis/explanation thing for R.R., for now, from Leon Rekjavik!

I was thinking of actually making a master-post for the R.R. asks, if Mun would be okay with that. I’m just another visitor to this blog, who likes your work a lot, but I couldn’t help but notice the amount of times someone posted an ask asking who is R.R. It may help clear some things up, and just help the people catch up with the entire R.R. phenomena.

I don’t know why I do these, even now… mysteries are just so fun to look through I guess?

I’m sorry if this wasn’t written as nicely as the other one I did. This is a link to the previous one if anyone is interested, it explains everything R.R. to the point, like it’s a must read:

https://ask-art-student-prussia.tumblr.com/post/162708791482/the-case-of-rr-an-analysis-by-leon-rekjavik

I’m not doing this in any form of promotion or attention. If you look at my Tumblr, I literally have nothing in my posts. It’s because I just like looking for cool blogs like Mun's here, and don’t feel like posting anything I do personally.

I just want R.R. to be understood a bit better, that’s it. Also, I have a little too much spare time on my hands… (at the moment. Just wait for college to start).

I hoped you liked it.

Bye.

-Leon Rekjavik (it’s still not my real name, try finding me, stalker!)

P.S

Mun, please accept my humble submission! Don’t throw it in the reject pile!

how the fuck did you write all this what the hell oh m y hofdod?

#submission

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nctwayvangels · 7 years

Text

I'll be always by your side (Yongguk scenario)

Pairing: Bang Yongguk / You Genre: Slight angst/ fluff / mental ilnesses Word count: 1455 Rating: I would say at least 13+ as there are mentions of depression and mental ilnesses that can be triggering for some people. If you feel triggered by these things please don’t read.

“Gguk, can you please come home now love? You’ve been here in the studio for so long.”-You pleaded, feeling your voice crack as soon as you spotted your boyfriend, sat in front of a desk with multiple crumpled paper sheets around him. “Just give me some more hours babe, I’m almost done with this new song.”-Yongguk explained, not taking his eyes of the desk, bitting the top of his pen as he came up with new lyrics to finish another one of his masterpieces. This was Yongguk, and no matter how hard it was for you to see him sacrificing his health, his well being, for the good of the majority, you also knew that there was no point in arguing with him, not when he was so concentrated in something and not after being diagnosed with his mental illness. “I’ll give you some more hours Bang Yongguk, only a few and no more okay?”-You stated convinced, feeling your lips turn into a smile when you saw him turning around to face you, offering you a smile. Something so simple but at the same time so meaningful after spending weeks straight without seeing him smile honestly, without having to force it a single bit. Yongguk nodded, agreeing with your request.-”I’m still gonna buy something for you to eat. It’s already past midnight and knowing you like I do, you probably haven’t eaten anything all day. More like you haven’t eaten anything considerably healthy for the past days, considering the amount of ramyun bowls I’m seeing.”-Looking around his studio, you lost count of them, some being hidden by the countless paper sheets. Yongguk had never been the messy type of guy, sure he wasn’t the tidiest person you knew, but the state of his studio surely wasn’t what you were used to. However, you wouldn’t say neither ask anything, he was slowly getting better, slowly going back to the previous smiling, happy Yongguk, and you as his girlfriend could only stand by his side supporting him, being his pillar in every moment either it was good or bad. “I don’t really feel that hungry..”-He started, coming up with an excuse to why he didn’t felt like eating. You rolled your eyes, ignoring the sentence that came out of your mind. “What was that that you said? Please bring enough food fod the two of us babe. Thank you for waiting for me so we could have dinner together, I love you so much baby you have no idea of it. Was that it? I think so!!”Totally sounded like it. You’re welcome Gguk!”-You exclaimed cheerfully, pecking his cheek.-”I’ll be back in a while!” “(Y/N) take my jacket with you at least. Not only is cold outside but people might as well recognise you.”-Yongguk pointed out, lowering his head embarrassed-”I don’t want you to get in trouble only because of me babe.”-He confessed, glancing up so he could meet your eyes. You sighed deeply, not knowing what you should do to assure him that he would never be a problem in your life. You kneeled next to his seating figure, laying your head in top of his lap. “Yongguk, hear me out love okay?”-You asked, waiting for his answer that was given as a simple nod. You relaxed, feeling his breathing as well as one of his hands playing with a few strands of your hair.-”Both our companies and our fans know about our relationship. They’re really happy for us, and are only wishing us the best of the best. Besides that, my group’s promotions already ended so there’s nothing to worry about.”-You looked up, and caressed his cheek with the back of your right hand.-”You’ll never be a problem, a bother, call it whatever you want,in my life Yongguk. I love you, I want to be by your side in every moment either good or bad. So please don’t push me away.”-You got up, cleaning the thin layer of dust that your jeans collected from being kneeled on the floor.-”Me and the rest of the boys will support you in everything that you do. We won’t rush you to get better faster, we just want our happy leader back.”-You said, smiling at the end.-”Now if you excuse me love, I’ll buy food so that we can finally eat. See you in a bit!”-You kissed his cheek, picking up one of his jackets from the top of the small bed he had bought to have in the studio, leaving your boyfriend behind in the middle of his thoughts. The cold breeze hit your face, reminding you of the cold times that were about to come. Winter, just as you expected, was being extremely cold and severe right from the beggining. How bad you wished for Spring to come quickly. You ran to the nearest convenience store, picking up a few food items as well as cleaning ones. If you were going to wait for Yoongguk to finish his song all night you might as well do something useful and clean his studio. Paying for everything, you took your time to reach Yongguk’s studio, wanting to leave him alone a bit longer so he could process all of your previous words. You hoped that at least a few of the things you said, had sunken by now. You opened the door with the spar key your boyfriend had gifted you with, finding him still concentrated in the same worn out paper sheet. “I’ve brought food and cleaning supplies.”-You chanted, lifting the two white plastic bags. You dropped them on top of the table, positioned next to one of the walls, and started taking out the food.-”They’re not exactly the healthiest food choices but I mean, you can’t expect much from a convinience store. I promise that tomorrow I’ll cook some amazing home made dishes. I’m pretty sure you’re missing that type of food after all this time.”-You continued, offering him a bento box, as well as a pair of chopsticks. Yongguk smiled at you, pronouncing a low thank you as his way to demonstrate how your little action meant so much to him. He put his food on top of his desk, and he got up, walking towards you. “Babe, I never really got to thank you for everything that you’re doing for me. I know that these past few months haven’t been easy, and I’m really sorry for that.”-Yongguk spoke, staring right at your eyes. He caressed your cheek, making you immediately smile by feeling his touch once again.-”You have been so caring, so loving, putting up with every single one of my problems. I just don’t know how to thank you enough.”-He confessed, now putting his other hand on top of your other cheek. Not wanting to rush anything, he slowly leaned in, taking your lips with his, and starting a slow but passionate and sweet kiss.-“Have I already told you that you’re the woman of my life?”-He asked, putting one strand of your hair behind your ear and gaining an happy chuckle from you. “Only a few couple of times if I correctly recall.”-You answered light heartedly, not being able fully believe that Yongguk had finally made a joke, recalling his past self. “Let me live for once please.”-He pleaded, rolling his eyes due to how unforgivable you tried to be and sound like.-“I seriously love you more than anything (Y/N). You may not realise this but, I’m really thankful for having you in my life. And if it depends from me, you’ll always me in it.”- Yongguk confessed, stealing one more kiss from you, followed by a romantic one on your forehead. “Hmm.”-You looked up, so you could look into his eyes. Okay, more like try, the height difference between the two of you being a considerate number.-“I’m still waiting for the day I’ll become Mrs. Bang.”-You suggested cheekily, winking at him. Yongguk gave you one of his radiant, gummy smiles before kissing you once again. “Just wait a bit for it baby, when the time comes and I finally gather enough courage to ask you in marriage, I’ll make you the happiest girl in the world.”-He assured you, having such a certain look in his eyes that you couldn’t help but nod. After all, this was Bang Yongguk. Yongguk was loving, he das more than what you could ever ask. And having him by your side for the rest of your life? Suddenly life didn’t appear to be that bad. Sure it wasn’t easy, it would never be. But with Yongguk by your side you were sure of one thing. Together, every problem would be surpassed because in the end what really mattered was love. The love you two felt for each other.

#b.a.p #b.a.p daehyun #b.a.p zelo #b.a.p yongguk #b.a.p youngjae #b.a.p himchan #b.a.p jongup #b.a.p.#b.a.p imagines #b.a.p fanfic #bang yongguk #bang yongguk scenario #bang yongguk imagine #bang yongguk fluff

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hale-of-stiles-heart · 7 years

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"i’m scared of the dentist so i brought my best friend along for support but they’ve been flirting with the dentist for the past fifteen minutes and now i’m third wheeling at my own dentist appointment’ au" Please? :)

May I present hot dentist Derek and shameless flirter Stiles! (also on ao3!)

“Dude, c’mon. Stop being such a freakin’ baby,” Stiles instructed loftily as he plopped down into one of the waiting room’s uncomfortable plastic chairs, crossing his legs to rest his ankle on his opposite knee, trying to get as comfy as he could on the hard blue plastic seat. He plucked a magazine at random from off the veritable mountain of tabloid spreads and old newspapers on the long coffee table in the center of the room, thumbing through it until he found some interesting pictures along with an article about lions.

Scott groaned low in his throat and begrudgingly took a seat beside him, pouting like a petulant little child as he folded his arms over his chest and stared down at the black and white tiled floor that looked like it had come right out of a 1980’s kitchen. Stiles nudged Scott’s arm with his elbow, flashing his friend a bolstering smile as he told him, “It’s just the dentist, relax. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Scott didn’t seem to appreciate the advice, sending Stiles a pathetic attempt at a glare that was supposed to be scathing but in reality just made him look more constipated than a Chihuahua. Apparently, Scott took his dental hygiene very seriously and while he had been going to Hale Dentistry ever since he was a little kid, same as Stiles, he had been anxious for his appointment since he was informed that his usual dentist would not be in and another doctor would be covering the checkup.

So, being the amazing, wonderful, out of this world best friend slash pretty much brother, that Stiles was, when he found out that Scott was worried about his appointment, he volunteered to go along with him. For moral support, of course.

It certainly wasn’t because his dad was trying some new diet that was beyond disgusting and was invented solely to torment Stiles’ taste buds, the Sheriff insisting that his only son stick to said hellish diet to show solidarity. Yup, it had nothing to do with the fact that he was hoping to stop by McDonald’s and Taco Bell on his way home. Nada.

Stiles had at first just thought that Scott was a little cagey because of the disruption to his routine, never a huge fan of change, thinking that his buddy was just a little nervous about meeting the new doctor that would have their fingers all up in his mouth. But that wasn’t the case. Scott was genuinely anxious, jumping from one worst case scenario to the next, one minute talking about how the new doctor might accidentally chip his tooth and the next talking about how he hoped the new doctor didn’t smell bad.

Stiles had a feeling that he was experiencing what it was like for other people when he inevitably wound up rambling on and on about something or another. He would have to bake his dad an appreciation cake. A low-fat, dairy-free appreciation cake, of course.

With his usual comforting tactics not working, namely self-deprecating humor and poor attempts at levity, Stiles decided to go the way of quiet comfort, gently patting Scott’s arm and giving him lots of thumbs up and encouraging smiles until the receptionist called them back to the exam room. Stiles hopped up out of his seat, feeling a bit fidgety and restless and extremely unfocused since he had forgotten his Adderall that morning. Scott much more reluctant to get back to his feet.

They followed the pretty nurse, who wore a nametag pinned to her orange fox patterned scrubs that identified her as Kira, into the exam room, Stiles thanking her while Scott continued to sulk like a kid who had just let go of his balloon. While Scott got situated in the exam seat, Stiles sunk down into a nice cushiony chair by the door, tugging his phone out of his pocket to check Pokemon Go, having been addicted since they added Gen Two.

He managed to catch two Jigglypuffs and a Cyndiquil before the doctor came in the room, making Stiles' jaw nearly drop. Because doctors, especially not dentists, should be allowed to be that hot. Once someone achieved that level of hotness they should be promoted to Calvin Klein models or porn stars, preferably gay porn stars.

He was tall, with broad shoulders and an athletic build clearly visible even through his staid royal blue scrubs, looking like he could probably bench press a car without breaking a sweat. His pitch black hair was combed and styled, though it did not look obnoxiously glossy with gel, Stiles wanting to shake him and demand how he was able to accomplish such a feat, always winding up looking like a hedgehog when he used any sort of product in his hair.

Complementing his thick black hair was a generous dusting of dark stubble along his chiseled jawline, highlighting his high cheekbones and his flawless, swarthy skin. Beneath a pair of thick eyebrows were the most beautiful eyes Stiles had ever seen, hazel-green and glittering in the fluorescent lights of the exam room.

A gorgeous smile lit up his godly gorgeous face as he stretched out his hand to introduce himself to Scott, greeting, "Hi, I'm Doctor Derek Hale. I'll be covering for Laura today. Nice to meet you."

Scott shook the Greek god's hand, still looking a bit queasy, bravely managing a halfhearted smile up at the dentist. With a brilliant grin of his own, Doctor Derek Hale turned to Stiles, hand out as he tried to greet him.

But instead of acting like a normal human being, Stiles blurted out, "Uh, are you an eye doctor, too? I think I need to make an appointment because I'm pretty sure I just saw an angel."

The dark red blush that stole to the dentist's cheeks was hands down the most gratifying thing in the whole world, Stiles staring in fixation and awe at the deep flush as the dentist shyly ducked his chin, looking down at his shoes with a clearly flattered smile. Stiles only realized that he was puffing his chest out when he crossed his arms over his chest to get more comfortable, not even caring, feeling inordinately proud of himself.

He spent the rest of the appointment shamelessly flirting with the dentist, figuring that he would never see him again after that day, not seeing the harm in a bit of fun, especially when the hot doctor seemed to appreciate it. But Scott didn't seem to appreciate the flirting half as much.

He confronted Stiles about it when Doctor Hale excused himself to grab an instrument that he forgot, apologizing as he stood and crossed the room to the door. Stiles had smirked and called after him, "Well, I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave!"

"Dude," Scott grumbled emphatically, raising his brows at Stiles who just shrugged and tilted his head to the side in silent question. He didn't understand why Scott was getting so wound up from a bit of harmless flirting. Rolling his eyes, Scott complained, "Dude, we're at the dentist. Keep it in your pants."

"It's not like I'm actually gonna get to sleep with him," Stiles snorted, rolling his own eyes as he fiddled with the buttons on his flannel, shaking his head at his naive best friend. Looking back over at him, Stiles continued on, inquiring, "I mean, have you seen him? He's more than out of my league. He's out of my stratosphere. Way out of my stratosphere."

"It's just weird," Scott commented, squinting up at the popcorn ceiling with a weak shrug of his shoulders. "I feel like I'm third wheeling at my own appointment."

"Get used to it, bub. How do you think I feel whenever I hang out with you and Allison?" Stiles quipped, nodding firmly just as Doctor Hale returned, smiling a bit and brandishing the missing instrument. He apologized again as he took a seat and resumed his examination of Scott's teeth, occasionally humming.

After filling one of Scott's cavities, he started a cleaning, Stiles waiting patiently as he continued his leisurely flirting, challenging himself to see how many punny pickup lines he could think of before the appointment ended. When it did he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, chewing his lower lip as Scott stood from the exam seat, Doctor Hale writing something on the back of an appointment reminder.

"Remember to brush after every meal and always floss," Doctor Hale informed Scott with a stern nod and a friendly grin, shaking his hand again while opening the exam room door for him. Turning to Stiles, he handed him a slip of paper with a phone number written on it, smiling radiantly as he explained, "I'm not an eye doctor, but I'd really like to see you again. Call me sometime?"

Stiles could only nod, all out of witty comments.

#Sterek #sterek fic #fic #dentist!derek #flirt!stiles #getting together #first meeting #alternate universe #stileswithderek

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kpopscenariosforu · 7 years

Text

Title: Celebrity (B)romance

Word count: 1,600

Group: Got7 x BTS

Pairing: Namjoon x Jackson

Genre: Soft smut, drama

Trigger warnings: crying, a little self hate

Description: Namjoon wants to have a different type of relationship with fellow idol Jackson Wang

Note: Heyya! I hope you enjoy this! I love gotbangtan so I was so excited to write this!

I’ll try not to lie.

It may be hard but I promise I’ll try.

Jackson wang. That bastard. That’s who I want to talk about, I need to get this off my chest.

When we first met it had been but a simple greeting, for him at least. For me I was excited by the possibility of a new friendship, new opportunities. I had been so starved of friendship because of training and writing my songs that I had even gotten to the point where I was ready to go on those stupid dating apps looking for friends to hang out with. Even if I wanted to have more than that it wouldn’t be allowed any ways…

“Namjoon my man!” Jackson had greeted me in english, skipping past the formalities. That didn’t matter to Jackson, it still doesn’t to this day really, but that’s part of his charm. I had bowed politely, hands shaking and heart thumping.

Do screw this up namjoon. I reminded myself, being careful with every move as to not trip Jackson and break his arm or drop something on his foot shattering not only my chances of friendship but also his foot. Watch where you’re stepping namjoon. I reminded myself again.

“Why are you so nervous man?” Jackson asked switching randomly between english and korean. Explaining to Jackson that I hadn’t had many friends was quite awkward but he understood, not once interrupting me as I explained how I had been a trainee for so long and how it had been tough. Jackson was the perfect friend, listened well and able to turn every situation into a positive one. Even when I spilt coffee all over him and myself he pointed out how the stain looked like a giraffe and chased me calling me a tree and saying he wanted to eat me. It sounded strange now but back then I had been so thankful of him.

We had ended up at some little park, far away from the hustle of the city but close enough that they could walk back to our dorms.

“I want to become famous.” Jackson had said suddenly looking over to me and then back up at the sky. “I want to become famous with you and go on that bromance show together…” I followed Jackson's gaze and saw he was looking at the brightest star, the guide star. The north star. “I want to promote each other's groups, and start major drama by hanging out in public and calling out sasaeng fans… just do everything together”

At the time it had all been so amazing to think of but it never happened. Well they both got famous and Jackson was invited onto celebrity romance but he didn’t invite Namjoon. He invited Jooheon. And when all those dating rumours came up and Jackson started being shipped with his members he didn’t deny it, in fact he embraced it and even made himself seem to like Mark and others.

I wasn’t jealous… I understood idol like and how Jackson's personality was just one to flirt with everyone I just wished he would remember I existed.

...

“Hyung I’m heading to go hang out with Yugyeom do you want to come and pick Jackson up or something?” I glared at Jungkook, who had entered my room without knocking eating chips and wiping the dust onto his white shirt.

“First change then go.” I said simply not wanting to admit that I really wanted to go but didn’t want to be sent back to the dorm because Jackson didn’t want to hang out with me or something along those lines.

“Come on hyung! It’ll be our bonding time!” Jungkook stated reaching over to touch me with his chip dust covered fingers. I glared at them and he reverted his hand back, staining his white shirt again as he wiped the dust off onto it.

“Kook go alone?” I was tired at this point and really just wanted my chip dust covered dongsaeng to leave. The boy pouted and started walking out of the room before stopping and whispering just loud enough for me to hear;

“Should I ask jooheon instead?”

Quicker than you could say ‘betrayal’ I had stood up and pushed past the cheese covered boy grabbing my jacket and squeezing my feet into my shoes. Looking back at a slightly shocked Jungkook I gave him a dark look. “You better hurry up because I’m leaving in two minutes.”

…

“Hyung do you think Yugyeom will be okay with bowling again? We always go bowling and I’m afraid he’ll find it boring” Jungkook's rambling was starting to get on my nerves a bit since I was trying to think of an explanation for jackson as to why I was even there when I hated bowling and I usually was locked up writing lyrics, and I wasn’t so sure ‘Jungkook said he would invite jooheon, you know the guy you took to celebrity bromance instead of me, to come meet you and I got very jealous’ would be a very good excuse.

“Jungkook, you’re both children; of course he’s not going to get bored of you.” I comforted absentmindedly, still thinking about what I could say to Jackson. As the blue neon lights spelling out ‘JYP’ started coming into sight I felt my stomach churning with nervousness. ‘What if jackson doesn’t want to see me? What if he doesn’t want to hang out? What if he’s not even there and I have to walk away? What if Jackson is recording or writing and can’t hang out? What if I act like a fool and Jackson doesn’t want to be seen with me?’

I sucked in a deep breath of air, suddenly realising me and Jungkook were right outside the glass doors. I had been so stuck in my own daydream, my legs had taken over and brought me to the door. I placed my hand on the cold handle of the door and started pulling the door open when I saw jackson out of the corner of my eye, he was with someone. My hand froze as they both came into sight.

“Jooheon…” I breathed again, tears prickling at my eyes as jackson leaned over wiping something off Jooheons lips then laughed probably making a comment about how they were like a couple. Jungkook sighed behind me and pulled open the other glass door which slammed into the one I had been holding open and bringing attention to us. Bringing Jackson's attention to me. Our eyes met and I couldn’t peel my eyes away from his when he squinted almost as if he wasn’t sure if it was me. Jungkook laughed, slapping me on my shoulder and saying something to me but I couldn’t hear as Jackson's eyes widened and he realised what was happening.

Jacksons mouth opened as if he were going to say something but it was too late. I was able to tear my eyes from his just as I felt tears fall down my face. Ignoring jungkook I ran away, towards my dorm. My safe place. I needed to be alone, I needed to do something to distract myself. Something to get the image of jooheon and jackson together out of my mind.

My feet slammed against the pavement but the pain registered in my head, pounding and pounding as if it were my head slamming against the ground and not my feet.

“Namjoon! Namjoon!” Someone was screaming but it seemed so far away and with each call of my name my head pounded harder and harder. The only thing I didn’t realise was that the voice wasn’t far away at all, infact it was right behind me.

The hand that grabbed my shoulder had that warmth that I only felt with one person. That one person that made me feel special even when I knew I wasn’t the only one, the one person who was always on my mind no matter where I was and what I was doing.

“Namjoon why did you run?” Jackson asked pulling my shoulder to turn me around and once I did he gripped my reddened cheeks, holding them in his warm hands. “Why Do you always run?”

Tears flowed down my cheeks as if my eyes were an electric waterfall, cycling the water into never ending tears. But despite my tears, despite my mind being full of sadness, my body moved on it’s own. My face moved closer to Jackson's and just before our lips touched I felt his breath tickle my bottom lip as he whispered;

“I want to kiss you.” And before my mind registered it I had answered

“Please do”

Our lips touched and my world suddenly became paradise. Everything around me disappeared and in that moment all that mattered was Jackson, his lips, his body, his hands holding my cold blushing cheeks. All that mattered was how Jackson tasted as he deepened the kiss, the feeling of his hands drawing soft lines on my face as his thumb stroked my cold skin. When he broke the kiss my eyes opened only to see his were still closed, his eyes were closed and his lips parted slightly as his chest rose and fell at a steady pace.

“Namjoon…” He whispered eyes still closed in ecstasy. “Namjoon I knew it was you. I knew it was always you.

I stuttered, my mind trying to process everything. “M-me? What am I?”

Jacksons eyes opened and he stared right into mine, his eyes holding happiness but no laughter as he whispered;

“My true love.”

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop scenarios #kpop story #kpop #bts scenarios #bts stories #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts #got7 scenarios #got7 stories #got7 fanfic #got7 #gotbangtan

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