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#bc you know if he could still perform he would’ve been on that stage like he was at the latest la show
releaseholiday · 1 year
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Some people are just
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lovelyhan · 7 months
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— daylight ⟢
when hoshi first opened his eyes, the singular impulse hard-wired into his circuitry is to dance. a performer in every sense of the word, he simply finds another stage to set foot on in the planet of salax after the escape. people never overstay their welcome here, but he unexpectedly meets you—a mechanic born and raised in a place where no one deigns to linger for too long.
★ FEATURING; soonyoung x reader
★ WORD COUNT; 9k words
★ TAGS; automaton!hoshi, mechanic!reader, a bunch of stray kids members make appearances bc HA!, mentions of sex work, mutual pining? angst, smut (MINORS DNI)
★ WARNINGS; implied dubious consent (with hoshi and a character that isn't the mc), mentions of terminal illnesses and surgeries
★ NOTES; fun fact! this collab was 9 months in the making and i am cramming this on the very last day of my extension :D very unprofessional of me, but here it is! p.s. little side note that the chan that's constantly mentioned in the fic is bang chan, not lee chan!
this is part of @idyllic-ghost's svt sci-fi collab!
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★ SMUT TAGS; robot sex, unprotected sex, first time together, they're just so desperate for each other yk
★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti--red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzzz - @lissiesykes - @dearjeonwonwoo - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt - @flwrshwa - @lilylikesthat - @aurorahongg - @whippedforjihoon - @todorokiskitten - @immabecreepin - @98-0603 - @peachhiz - @dkswife
★ SOONYOUNG TAGLIST; @ak6ko - @nikkell - @yoonzinoooo
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100 years ago it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn’t. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven’t agreed upon what it exactly was, none of the planets in our former solar system were ever destroyed.
The Earth, along with the other planets, were pushed away from each other, and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight.
However, the aliens were welcoming of our planet. Those of us who didn’t die from ‘The Great Journey’ or from trying to fight the aliens, were welcomed into the new solar system.
Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister-planets in exchange for human labor. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automatons, and they served as workers when humans couldn’t.
Eventually, there was no need for human labor at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be.
At the present time, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities—
“That’s enough telly for one day, don’tcha think?”
A frown tugs at your lips when you hear the familiar voice of your next-door neighbor who also makes a living out of trading tech junk in exchange for money. Han Jisung is a bit of an oddball—even by your planet’s standards, and everyone knows how strange the dwellers of Salax could be. If he was on Earth, he would’ve been ostracized as a complete loon, but unfortunately the stack of television monitors right outside his shop is your only source of entertainment these days. 
(Which might sound preposterous to some, since Salax is often dubbed as the planet of entertainment. Just not the kind you’re looking for.)
“Why are you even watching a documentary that’s nearly a decade old?” you huff, clutching a bag of tools you bought from the other side of town closer to your chest. “I thought you didn’t give a shit about Automaton celebrities—that Chan’s dancer trinity could outperform any machine?” 
“Now, Giz, no need to be so stingy,” Jisung chuckles and your eye twitches at the condescending nickname. “You know that's not why I’m watching this old thing.”
As if on cue, the only working screen in the sea of television static before you flickers from a scene of breathtaking idol performances to a closeup on a familiar Automaton who’s been burning up the stage since he first opened his eyes.
“Hoshi looked so sparkly when he debuted,” Jisung comments as the documentary continues to play. “Actually, they all did. Makes me wonder why those idols thought it’d be a good idea to break out of their facilities. Weren’t they treated like royalty back on Earth? What’s he doing in a dump like this?”
“Jisung,” you sigh. “Why’d you ask me to come here again?” 
“Oh. Right. I'll bring him into your lab, Giz.”
He calls you Giz because you’re known around these parts as someone who can fix any gadget and gizmo; every robot and Automaton that’s dropped into your care. It just so happens that, with the nature of his business, Jisung is the one who typically directs potential customers your way.
Which is what he’s doing right now. 
“Didn’t he already come in here last week? And the week before that?” Your neighbor grumbles as he helps your mutual friend Minho heft a powered down Automaton on the table in your lab. “It was Hyunjin who brought him the first time. Then Felix. Now you?”
“He’s a bot, what’d you expect?” Minho huffs. “They break down every now and again.”
“You break down every now and again too, but you don’t visit the doctor every week, no?” Jisung quips. “Idol bots really have no business wanderin’ into the galaxy’s red light district when they can’t handle the heat.”
“Jisung, shut up,” you apprehend him sharply, all while getting to work on the Automaton lying on your work table. “I can’t fix anything when you’re running your mouth too close to my ear.”
Your neighbor simply chuckles before patting Minho on the back. “Oh, yeah. You’ve gotta be in your handywoman element and everything. Well, Minho and I are gonna pop open some cold ones from your fridge—”
“No.
“—from my fridge while you work on that dying star over there,” Jisung makes it a point to cast the same robot he’d just been watching a documentary of a pitiful glance. “Seriously though, won’t Chan-hyung just consider selling him to me? Bet this guy’s parts would make a great fortune in the black market.”
“And how are you going to explain that you managed to turn up Hoshi of 53V3NT33N’s body parts without getting arrested?” Minho barks before yanking Jisung by the ear to the entrance of your lab. “Sorry about him, Y/N. He must be a pain in the ass to have as a neighbor.”
"You're a pain in the ass for constantly getting me to fix this guy, too,” you mumble as you start to unbutton Hoshi’s shirt to access the panel concealing the circuitry panel underneath his chest. “I’m all for saving what can still be saved, but maybe Jisung is onto something. Why aren’t you guys just chopping up his parts if he breaks down this often?” 
Jisung nods with a huff. “Can’t be good for business even if he used to be a famous idol, that’s for sure.”
The lab is silent apart from the whir of the machines mounted on your walls, and it’s this sullen atmosphere that makes Minho’s reply have all the more weight to it.
“You guys aren’t dancers. You wouldn’t be able to understand.”
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The first time you met rogue idol Automaton Hoshi in his titanium-clad glory was during a rare night when Jisung coaxed you out of your lab to "have real fun for once". Your neighbor is easily one of the most overbearing people you know, so you simply tagged along for the sake of getting him to shut up more than anything else.
But when he droned on and on about this new recruit Minho managed to scour off the streets, you never expected that Jisung would be talking about a bot and not some fledgling dancer with little to his name.
Well, in retrospect, Hoshi is a dancer—a performer, even. Despite his group's intergalactic status as outlaws because of the simultaneous escape stunt they pulled several months ago, not a single soul in Salax wished to report his whereabouts to the concerned authorities.
Where the other bots from 53V3NT33N are, you haven't the slightest clue, but if your planet's natives have widely accepted Hoshi's presence even if he's been here for a month at most, who are you to dictate otherwise?
Passionate. That's the best word you can use to describe the way he dances. All the movements that his body makes are calculated, purposeful. Each roll of his hips, each snap of his limbs, every memorable expression that colors his face—the intensity of Hoshi's performance all bleeds into his passion for the art of dance.
In your many years of tending and tinkering with machines, this is probably the first time you wondered if a bot's creator infused part of his soul into the code. You know of a few Automatons that are being used as entertainers and even escorts for the lecherous visitors of Salax, yet none of them come as close to being human as Hoshi is in your book.
But on that same night, you managed to witness the polar end of the spectrum. The one where Hoshi's fiery passion crumbled into crippling anxiety. 
Automaton malfunctions aren't an uncommon occurrence here. The reason why not many Level 1 bots ever set foot on Salax is because the planet's electromagnetic fields mess with their delicate circuitry and sometimes even tamper with their code.
These Automatons are celebrities—meaning their parts are made out of sleek material to allow ease of movement and rid them of the rigid and bulky framework of infernal bots. But because of the flimsy hardware coupled with the harsh environment, you're not surprised to see an Automaton as intricately crafted as Hoshi break down in the middle of a performance.
He's a mess. The practiced choreography was seemingly wiped out of his programming as he convulsed on-stage, sparks flitting from the seams of his joints. The bar’s manager, Chan, was quick to bark out orders to bring Hoshi off the platform and just let the other dancers cover the rest of the routine. 
You thought the immediate recall of an obviously defected Automaton would mean he was done for. But then again, Salax is a place with little resources to burn. As long as a bot can still do its job, the owner will have it fixed time and time again until its artificial nervous system shuts down for good. 
That’s how Hoshi ended up in your lab the first time. 
There’s a childlike curiosity in his gaze when he wakes up after you check if all his wires are in place and if his code remains uncorrupted. It almost feels like seeing a baby open its eyes for the first time, but you know better than to associate human traits with something that’s anything but. 
“Horanghae,” Hoshi says without any real context as he bares his fingers at you, while Hyunjin, the dancer who brought him here alongside Jisung, groans in contempt.
“That’s the first thing he said when Chan-hyung booted him up too,” he sighs. “Is it like some starting screen sound effect or something? What does that even mean?”
As things stand, you don’t know either. But seeing that Hoshi isn’t glitching anymore makes a wave of relief wash over you in a rather unexpected way. While it isn’t the first time you’ve had to fix a humanoid robot, you don’t work much on machines that grin at you so wide, their eyes disappear.
Then again, there’s always room for firsts.
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“Why’d you choose to go here after you escaped?”
You chose to ask Hoshi the question that’s been weighing on your mind despite having little to no reassurance of the ingenuity of his answer. You’re aware that though Automatons—especially Level 1’s—are sentient, you have zero background on their psychological makeup, the thought process behind their decisions, everything but the baseline components of their hardware. 
Hoshi hums for a moment, wincing when you accidentally nick one of the wires directly connected to the nerves on his thigh. “I dunno. I just wanted to dance.”
“Hm. And you thought you’d be able to do that here?” 
He nods as if it was a practiced response. Maybe it is. “Yeah. My old mechanic told me Salax is a place where all sorts of dancers flock together. I kinda wanted to go with Wonwoo when we all escaped, but…I wanted to dance even more.”
Whoever that mechanic was, they must’ve left out the part where your home planet is quite literally a den for one’s deepest, darkest desires. Dancers at clubs are just merely scratching the tip of the iceberg. The depravity of Salax’s denizens and visitors alike goes even further than that, but you suppose it’s not the right time to disillusion such an innocent bot so early in his new career.
After all, Chan’s club might be like any other salacious establishment out there, but from what you know about him through Minho and Jisung, he isn’t the type to just throw a clueless Automaton into becoming a nightly escort. You’ll let Hoshi live out his dream to keep dancing on whatever stage he sets his eyes on—even if that means he’ll start frequenting your lab for regular maintenance checkups.
“Where’s Jisung?” 
The question surprises you a little when Hoshi articulates it while you’re in the middle of tidying up your work table. Normally, he’d be out of the lab once you were done and whichever human dancer is chaperoning him for the day would pay for the services you rendered and they’d be on their merry way back to the main district. 
It’s completely out of character for him to ask questions. You weren’t even aware that he knew Jisung’s name, which makes you wonder…
Does he know yours? You’ve never really introduced yourself to the machines you end up tinkering with on your work table. 
Choosing not to dwell on it, you instead respond with, “Jisung is…at the hospital. He goes there every weekend.”
“Hospital,” Hoshi repeats the word as if it was something he’s only hearing about the first time. “My mechanic had to go to the hospital because she was sick one time. I didn’t see her for a while. Will Jisung be okay? Why is he in the hospital?”
You didn’t think sentient robots would have such a complex sense of self that they’re actually capable of empathy. It makes you stare at Hoshi, who’s staring back at you with a look asking for confirmation, and the unreadable expression on your face melts into soft laughter. 
Your reaction, however, confuses the Automaton a little. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. It’s just amusing for me that you care that much about someone who’s constantly threatening to disassemble your parts and sell them in the intergalactic black market.”
“Well, if he needs them, I don’t mind.”
“If you let Jisung do that, you wouldn’t be able to dance anymore,” you point out before locking your toolbox, casting him a pointed look. “Will you really be alright with that? Not being able to do the thing that brought you here in the first place?”
Hoshi’s face scrunches up for a moment—as if he’s taking his time to actually think about his answer. Another speck of amusement prickles your chest. He has such human mannerisms that if you didn’t constantly see what’s underneath the clothes the bar provides him with, you never would’ve thought he was a bot.
“It would suck, but… Automatons were made to serve the humans around us, weren’t we?” he wonders out loud. “If my purpose is to get chopped up for parts, then I don’t really have any qualms with that.”
“Your purpose was to entertain millions of people across the galaxy as an idol group,” you deadpan. “But here you are in Salax, light years away from the rest of your members. You can cut the moral bullshit, Hoshi. We’re all selfish degenerates here anyway.”
For the first time, his expression twists into a frown. “I’m afraid I don’t understand…?”
“You don’t have to. It’s not that much of a big deal.” You shake your head and at the same time, you hear the sound of someone rapping their knuckles on the door to your lab. “Oh, Felix is already here. Good luck with tonight’s show.” 
“You didn’t answer me.”
You can almost hear the pout in Hoshi’s voice, prompting you to cast him a sidelong glance. “Answer what?”
“Why is Jisung in the hospital?”
You let out your umpteenth sigh of the evening, opening the door to your lab to reveal a dressed-to-kill Felix that smiles and waves at the two of you.
“His older brother is sick and Jisung always goes to the hospital to take care of him on weekends,” you explain as simply as you could. “Does that finally sate your curiosity?” 
It takes him a few moments to process the information he’d just been told, but Hoshi eventually breaks into that familiar, eye-crinkling grin—clearly satisfied with your answer.
“It did. Thank you, Giz.”
Well, that’s not quite your name, but you suppose it’ll do.
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For Hoshi’s next checkup, you immediately sense that something’s amiss.
Typically, the Automaton waltzes into your lab and hefts himself on your work table before you can even get a chance to say hello to both him and his assigned chaperone. Today, it’s Minho but unlike last week’s visit, Jisung is here to lighten up the atmosphere in his usual Jisung fashion. 
Though it’s not enough to conceal the obvious discombobulation your patient is currently experiencing.
“You two,” you call out, referring to the only other humans inside the lab. “Can you step out for a while? I’m gonna talk to Hoshi.”
Jisung, of course, is quick to initiate his rapid-fire questions. “What? Why would you need some alone time with a sexy bot, Giz? You’re not becoming one of those deranged mechanics who gets off with their Automatons, right?” 
“Quit yapping and just let her do her job,” Minho scolds before dragging Jisung out of the lab by the wrist. But he doesn’t leave before yelling over his shoulder. “Just call us when you’re done!”
When Minho pulls the door shut and the automatic locks come into place, you turn to Hoshi with an inquisitive look.
“What happened?” 
The question is met with a wince—as if you took out a cigarette and burned his silicone skin with the smoldering edge. Hoshi makes it a point to avoid your eyes, which only further confirms your theory that something is most definitely up.
“I…had my first client the other day.”
Ah.
While you haven’t personally dabbled in the services being offered by the red light district, you’ve been friends with Minho long enough to pick up on the basics. With how much attention Hoshi has been garnering for himself, it was only a matter of time before Chan would let him entertain their club’s regulars in a way that he was probably never taught as an idol.
After all, Level 1s are considered the purest of all the Automaton classes. You’ve always wondered what would happen if they were exposed to activities of the sexual kind, but from the uneasy look on Hoshi’s face, you’re afraid it might not have been a great first time.
“Do you…want to talk about it?” 
It feels a little silly, playing therapist for a literal machine. But the longer you serve as Hoshi’s regular mechanic here on Salax, the more you realize that things would be less stressful if you treated him just like you would treat any other human being out there.
He’s an Automaton—a robot—but because of the groundbreaking discovery of their ability to become sentient several decades ago,  you’re more than inclined to hear him out.
“The other dancers helped me prepare. Chan told me time and time again that I didn’t have to do it if I didn’t want to but…” He starts, voice coming out softer than you’re used to—more reserved. “I wanted to. I wanted to be of use to them. I knew that lots of our customers wished for me to become their escort, so I just repaid Chan’s kindness by doing my job.”
Your lips tug into a grimace. “You don’t look very pleased with the outcome though.”
Hoshi purses his lips and that alone is already an answer.
You don’t pester him any further than that. Instead, you quietly instruct him to take off his shirt and lie on the table like he always does. Hoshi complies surprisingly quickly—following your orders with clockwork precision. He’s in position merely ten seconds after you gave the word.
When you perform your regular examination beneath his chest plate, nothing seems out of turn. Part of you wants to check the circuitry inside his head just to make sure he’s doing alright up there. It’s been a while since Hoshi has been brought here because of a breakdown, so you haven’t bothered inspecting the wires beneath his artificial skull. You wonder if he even wants to—
“It felt good,” your patient tells you all of a sudden, nearly making you drop the tools you’re using to poke around inside his chest cavity. “I didn’t think it was possible for me to even feel that way, but I did.”
Composing yourself, you manage a small nod. “Okay. Did you enjoy it at least?”
“Yeah.”
“Would you want to do it again?”
“...With her? Not really.”
Hoshi falls silent for the next few minutes once more, which affords you all the silence you need to concentrate on what you’re doing. After closing his chest panel and lubricating the screws on his external joints, he was more or less in the clear. But from the way his uncharacteristic silence still persists, you know that he still has a couple more things on his mind.
“I didn’t like the way she said my name.” 
You glance at Hoshi with a quizzical look, implicitly asking him to elaborate, which he thankfully does in a heartbeat.
“When I was still with the rest of 53V3NT33N, the fans would call out my name and it always felt good. It felt euphoric, even,” he reminisces as he sits up on the table, dark eyes trained on the tiled floor. “But with my client…it was the first time I felt unnerved hearing it come from another person’s mouth. It’s like—like she only saw me as a thing to enjoy. Not someone she loves, like our fans love me.” 
The honesty in his words makes your heart sink. 
Turns out, ridding an Automaton of its figurative innocence isn’t so different from that of a real person. The glittering curiosity that’s always been present in Hoshi’s eyes is nowhere to be found and you feel a deep-seated anger pooling in the pit of your stomach at the knowledge.
“Can you give me a new one?”
Blinking the irritation out of your eyes, you stare at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“A new name,” Hoshi says softly. “I never really liked the name Hoshi. Our management just thought it would make for good business to base my image around tigers. What’s more is that this city has already tainted it for me.” 
The bitter laugh that follows his words has your chest aching with an emotion you can’t name. When was the last time you became this sad on a machine’s behalf, you wonder…
“Are you sure?” you murmur. “I’m not your boss or anything. If there’s anyone who has the right to give you a name, wouldn’t it be Chan?”
Hoshi shakes his head. “No. I want it to be you.”
Humans are already hard to figure out, but with each session you share with Hoshi, you learn that Automatons are even more so. He stares at you with such intense desperation in his eyes that you find it difficult to deny him. So, with a deep breath, you say the first name that pops into your head.
“How about...Soonyoung,” you breathe. “You are powerful because of your innocence and glory combined. It’s obvious in how you haven’t tapped out because of that less-than-stellar time with your first client.”
“Soonyoung…” he whispers under his breath, as if testing how the syllables would taste in his mouth. When the corners of his lips twitch into a smile, you know you’ve struck gold. “Did you just invent what the name means or…?”
“That’s for me to keep and for you to find out.” You shrug. “Well? Do you like your new name?” 
“It’s not just my name. It’s yours, too.”
“...That doesn’t really make a lot of sense.”
Soonyoung laughs. “You’re the one who gave it to me. So it belongs to you, too.”
I belong to you too, you can almost hear him say, but erase the idea from your brain before you can get any more silly thoughts. 
“Well, I think we should go. My sensors tell me that someone is very pissed off on the other side and I’m guessing that Jisung must’ve said something that annoyed Minho again.”
“For a robot, you’re pretty adept at picking up on human emotions,” you point out teasingly.
“Of course I am. I always want to appeal to the emotions of those around me, Y/N. Why do you think I dance my heart out every time I’m in the club?”
Oh. 
He does know your name after all.
That evening, you decided to tag along with the boys to the club—grabbing a table for Jisung and yourself as you watched tonight’s lineup of performers. Soonyoung, with his newfound confidence thanks to the name you bestowed upon him, looks just as breathtaking as he was in the prime of his idol years. You wouldn’t have thought he’d just had an unsavory encounter with a client with how brightly he grins at the audience.
He reminds you a little of daylight breaking through the horizon minutes after dawn—almost blinding in his brilliance, but too precious for you to miss out on.
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“What’re you doing?” 
Soonyoung sounds a little annoyed when he glances over his shoulder. Your most loyal patient came in alone for the first time in months for his weekly maintenance check-up, but for some reason, his trusted mechanic is much more interested in something else.
You’re still tinkering with a portable hologram projector that wandered into Jisung’s weekly junk stash—one that your neighbor gave to you as a little plaything that’s been taking up most of your morning trying to figure out. 
“Give me a second,” you grumble as you attempt to salvage the inner workings of the worn out thing with a soldering iron. “I’ve only read about these things in books, and my old mentor said they usually contain the final messages of a ship captain whose spacecraft is about to get destroyed.” 
“That’s weirdly specific of you, don’t you think?” Soonyoung huffs. “Come on. I’ve got a client to meet in two hours and Hyunjin’s being really annoying with this new routine he came up with. I need to go back and practice as soon as I’m done here.” 
You let out a quiet laugh before giving up on the hologram projector. “Oh? Time sure flies, doesn’t it? I could’ve sworn you hated taking up clients just yesterday.” 
He whines. “It’s been half a year since I started doing that!”
“Like I said—time flies!”
Your sessions have grown shorter and shorter with each passing week. Every time you fine-tune Soonyoung’s circuitry, you observe that he’s become less prone to internal malfunctions. You didn’t think it was possible for a Level 1 Automaton to fully adapt to the frequency of the electromagnetic waves in Salax, but Soonyoung has surprised you time and time again. 
Now, he can go on for weeks without powering down to regain his energy. He’s as good as any dancer—both human and robot—can be, and you honestly consider telling him that he doesn’t really have to come in for his weekly check-ups anymore.
Soonyoung, however, doesn’t seem thrilled with the news. 
“What do you mean I don’t have to come here anymore?” He pouts.
“There’s nothing left for me to check, big guy,” you sigh as you seal his chest panel back up. “You’ve been stable for months now. I don’t even charge Chan for your check-ups anymore since everything is relatively normal.”
“But if I don’t get any check-ups, can I still come here?”
You make a face at him. “What for?”
“To hang out! Minho and Jisung do it all the time. Although Jisung always barges into the club uninvited and we have to stop Minho from beating him up…”
His invite perplexes you more than it flatters you because… You’ve never encountered any cases where an Automaton would willingly go out of its way to spend time with a human that doesn’t hold any sort of authority over it. 
They’re sentient, yes, but at the end of the day, those emotions that others trick themselves into believing that bots can feel are just a clever arrangement of ones and zeros. It’s easy to lose oneself into one’s own delusions when in need of a little company, but you know that you aren’t that desperate for companionship. 
It’s always just been you and the bots and other machines you fix for a living. Well, maybe Minho and Jisung when they’re not busy trying to piss each other off. You don’t need to hang out with Soonyoung. 
And yet…
“Fine,” you relent with little resistance, feigning nonchalance by fluttering back to the projector you’ve been trying to salvage. “Just don’t make too much of a racket or I’ll kick you out.”
Soonyoung beams at your agreement, tugging his shirt back on before shuffling towards you and embracing you from behind. The suddenness of the gesture obviously catches you by surprise. You nearly drop the portable holo projector, but Soonyoung’s reaction time is quite phenomenal. 
“Hey, don’t drop it. It’s already been through a lot.” 
Still unnerved by the feel of his beefy, synthetic arms wrapped around your frame, you glance at him warily. “You talk like it’s some sentient creature.”
“It is! Well, by some degree, I guess,” Soonyoung chuckles before flipping the thing over in his hand. “Machines are just like people too. If you listen close enough, you can hear what they want to tell you.”
“Uh-huh,” you drawl before disentangling yourself from his embrace before you could implode from embarrassment. If he notices just how flustered you are, he doesn’t show it. “What’s this thing trying to tell you then?”
“Its creator hid the switch inside the motherboard, but you’re damaging it with a soldering iron. You just need to look for it harder.” Soonyoung hands the gadget back to you with a warm smile. “Well, I’ve gotta go now. Hopefully, when I go hang out with you, that thing will already be fixed.” 
Soonyoung prances out of the lab with a skip to his step before you can even give your own input. When you hear the front door of your house click shut, you grab your toolbox with a withering sigh before trying a different approach to your current predicament.
To your chagrin, it’s just as Soonyoung said—the switch was hidden somewhere beneath the motherboard and you were able to witness a space cadet’s last five minutes of life. 
He talked about how much he missed home, how he wished he just died on Earth instead of being launched into space after the implosion of the sun of the first solar system. Then, he left a message for a woman that used to be his childhood sweetheart—saying that it was only a matter of time before they were reunited. Before you can glean any more information about the cadet, the feed was cut off and hologram flickered out. 
The entire experience leaves you dumbfounded for about five minutes. A hologram from over a hundred years ago just wound up in Jisung’s junk stash. What are the odds?
“Giz? Are you in here?”
Speaking of Jisung, the devil himself weasels his way into your lab just when you’re done tidying up your little experiment for today. You’re just about to tell him what you saw in the holo projector, but the look on his face makes you pause.
The cheerful, pain-in-the-ass neighbor of yours seems a little…exhausted. There are dark circles beneath his eyes, and his cheeks look a bit thinner than you remember. Jisung is the kind of person that rarely lets the things that bother him show on his face, so you’re a little concerned to see him in such a state right now.
“Jisung, what’s wrong?” 
He doesn’t even hesitate. “It’s Jieun… He’s—He needs a heart transplant. If he doesn’t get a replacement in eight weeks, he’ll die. I can’t handle that, Y/N. I can’t lose him. He’s the only family I’ve got left…”
You panic internally somewhat when Jisung starts rambling in front of you, tears streaking his face as the man who you thought was always a step ahead of everybody starts to crumble before you. You’re not expert in consoling people who direly need it, but you’re at least rational enough to lead him out of your stuffy lab and back to the comfort of your living room.
There, you give Jisung a glass of water and several minutes to catch his breath.
Once he calms down, he speaks.
“I’ve already outsourced a compatible donor,” he murmurs. “It should all be in the clear now, but the problem right now is money. The shitty healthcare system on this planet won’t greenlight any transplants unless everything is paid in full. I-I can’t come up with the money they want from me in less than two months.”
Fuck. He’s in a tight spot then. “Oh, Jisung…”
“But I’ve thought of a way that might work if you help me.”
You flash him a confused look. “What do you mean?”
Jisung’s throat bobs before letting out a shuddering breath. You only notice how bloodshot his eyes are when he leans closer to tell you about his so-called plan.
“Some intergalactic guards have been spotted around the main district lately. Word from the street is that they’re still searching for the other members of that idol group that escaped Earth and that a generous reward would be given to everyone who’ll cooperate,” he whispers conspiratorially, and from those few sentences alone, you’re already dreading what he’s planning. “If I lead them to Hoshi, I should be able to raise enough money for Jieun’s surgery. Enough that I can even split the reward between the two of us!”
“No,” you tell him sharply. “You’re not going to sell out Soo—Hoshi like that. He practically lives here already.”
“He’s just a fucking bot, Giz,” Jisung snaps. “The worst they’ll do if they catch him is give him time out for a few days until he’s back to being the idol that everyone knows and loves. If I don’t get the money I need for my brother’s transplant, he’s going to die.”
You hold Jisung’s intense stare despite not having a good enough comeback. He’s right. Soonyoung isn’t even supposed to be here at all. And if surrendering him to the cops meant Jisung would have the means to help his brother survive, the only logical thing to do is give him a hand.
But then you remember the way Soonyoung’s eyes disappear behind the widest of grins whenever he’s enjoying himself. How he trusted you enough to confide in his troubles during his first client booking, the way his eyes sparkled when you first called him Soonyoung—
It’s not just my name. It’s yours, too.
“I can’t help you, Jisung,” you murmur. “If you’re going to go about the situation like this, I can’t help you. I’m sorry.”
Your neighbor and long-time friend nods once, twice before getting up from your couch. Guilt bites into your chest as Jisung leads himself to the front door, and you could’ve sworn your heart sank into your stomach when he closes it behind him.
In the ear-splitting silence, you wonder if there’s any way to save someone without sacrificing anybody else.
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While it’s true that you’ve never taken up the type of entertainment that Salax is famous for, that doesn’t mean you’re completely unaware of what goes on during those sorts of transactions.
Despite himself, Minho can be a bit of a chatterbox especially when he’s had one drink too many. There was a time when he told you about how he was booked for the night by a married couple and they edged him until he was in tears on the mattress. Then, he proceeded to share that he was quite literally incapacitated for days because the wife had exceptional skill with her strap-ons. 
You don’t really hear these kinds of stories from Soonyoung. The possible reasons are 1.) Automatons don’t have a sense of gossip and see no benefit in sharing the gritty details of their sex lives, and 2.) He just doesn’t see you as someone worth telling said gritty details about.
The second possibility gnaws at you more than it should. You don’t really care about Soonyoung’s nightly escapades. You’re just his mechanic. As long as he doesn’t fuck himself up like he used to when he first started working at the club, you’ll have no complaints.
But after a late-night grocery store run, you unknowingly run into Soonyoung and someone who you presume to be one of his clients. They’re right outside the building of Chan’s club, and Soonyoung is obviously romancing the woman who paid for his company that night by caging her against the wall, whispering something in her ear with a sordid smirk.
You’ve never seen him like this. Whenever he’s with you, Soonyoung’s all too-wide smiles and unprovoked hugs. The more he hangs out with you during his free time, the more difficult it is for you to picture him as that seductive dancer that has charmed everyone who’s anyone on Salax.
Part of you—an irrational part of you—wants to hide him away from the rest of the world. But then you remember you’re just his mechanic and that it would be weird to be feeling this way about an Automaton, of all things.
You manage to brush off the scene you witnessed for a few weeks. Soonyoung still shows up at your house to watch a few movies or help you fix some other bots that come into the shop. He’s excellent company because his robot-to-robot communication skills make your job easier than it used to be.
Until one night, he snuggles up to you on the couch a little too closely—your heart beating a little too fast at the close proximity.
“I don’t get why she has to give up her tail for a man,” he murmurs from where his chin is propped on top of your shoulder, pulling you closer to him whether he knows it or not. “Aren’t there any other mermen that Ariel could just get with?”
“That’s what makes the story interesting, Soonie,” you chuckle, trying not to melt in his embrace despite knowing that the heat of his body is all artificial. “She’s sacrificing everything for love. It’s all part of the human experience.”
Soonyoung scoffs at that. “But Ariel’s a mermaid.” 
“Just shut up and watch the movie.”
Ever the obedient bot, your current company does as he’s told until the credits start rolling and you have to get up to rid yourself of a crick in your neck. You’ve been in the same position for over two hours, having forgotten that Automatons don’t need to move around to get comfortable in their seats. Oversight on your part, really.
But before you can even attempt to crawl out of Soonyoung’s secure embrace, he tugs you back down—forcing you to face him with a puzzled expression.
“I’m gonna get some water,” you tell him. “Let me go, clingy robot.”
He doesn’t budge. Soonyoung simply pins you in place with his firm grip and the heat of his stare, and it takes you a few moments to realize that he’s looking at you the same way he looked at that woman outside of Chan’s club a few nights ago.
“You saw me while I was working, didn’t you?” he murmurs. “I’m sorry.”
You swallow thickly. “W-Why are you apologizing?”
“Because I accidentally introduced myself with the name you gave me,” Soonyoung sighs, lower lip swelling into a pout. “I always go by Hoshi at work, but we’d just finished watching Pocahontas together before I timed in that night.”
“Soonyoung,” you address him warily, unsure of where you should place yourself in this situation. “What are you going on about? That name is yours.”
“And I told you that it’s yours as well, didn’t I?” His laughter is a soft noise that tickles the back of your neck, making gooseflesh prickle the skin of your arms. 
“I’m yours.”
His words make a steady buzz resound in your head, making you second guess if any of this is even real. Did you drink too many pints of beer and are currently hallucinating a Soonyoung that might feel the same way you do about him? That’s not right. Jisung already emptied your fridge of alcoholic beverages months ago and you haven’t bought any new packs since.
But if you’re not intoxicated, why in the world is an Automaton speaking to you as if he’s confessing feelings he doesn’t even have?
“You’re just hung up on the movie, you bucket of bolts,” you grumble, trying to push him off of you to no avail. Fuck. This is all very much real then. “Soonyoung, I’m not playing around.”
“Neither am I,” he whispers. When he leans closer, you don’t feel his breath on your face, don’t hear his heart thundering in his chest because he isn’t human. 
He isn’t human, yet why doesn’t that stop you from wanting him anyway?
“Tell me to get up and leave if you want me to stop,” Soonyoung proposes with a dangerous look in his eyes. “Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll leave you alone for good.”
You want him—you want him so fucking bad, it feels like a disease.
“Why’re you only coming for me with this now?” you whisper. “What prompted it?”
The handsome Automaton laughs quietly, caressing your face so delicately, you wonder if he learned to practice it from the countless clients he’s entertained. “I think I’ve always been a little attached to you since I first woke up after breaking down. You’re the one who cured my anxiety, Y/N. It’s only natural for me to feel drawn to you.”
“You’re avoiding the question.” 
“Heh. Fine. Maybe it’s because Ariel inspired me to be a little more like her—to sacrifice everything love.”
…Love? 
Soonyoung loves you? 
It doesn’t make sense. He isn’t supposed to love. Automatons are sentient, but they aren’t capable of a full spectrum of emotions. The mere prospect of it goes against everything you’ve been taught ever since you decided that you wanted to become a mechanic.
But from the way Soonyoung is looking at you alone, you remind yourself that every now and again, there are outliers to all the facts printed on every Automaton textbook you’ve buried your nose in. 
Rationality is your enemy at this point, and you toss all of it to the wind when you yank the front of Soonyoung’s shirt—mending your lips into a kiss that shouldn’t feel as good as it does. His mouth is soft on top of yours, and he moves to the cadence you’ve set so languidly, it almost feels fluid. You gasp into his mouth when Soonyoung curls an arm around your waist, pressing you as close to him as humanly possible.
“Soonyoung,” you whisper. “Want you.” 
He pulls away for a second—not even looking a fraction of how disheveled you are from a single kiss. “Are you sure?” 
The concern in his tone sends a rush straight through your skull. What kind of algorithm allows for an Automaton to express that kind of emotion on its own accord? Are the other idols that escaped with him the same way? You find out that you don’t really know the answers to these questions right now—nor do you want to know.
What you want is for him to be so deep inside you, you’ll feel him for days.
You yank him down for another kiss all while you desperately rid yourself of your once-comfortable and now-stifling clothes. They come off one by one until they’re but a heap on the floor and Soonyoung has the gall to chuckle at your impatience.
“If you wanted me this much, you should’ve just told me sooner,” he whispers, peppering your face with featherlight kisses. “I think I’ve had enough practice to be a good enough lover for you.”
“Mention that so-called practice again and I’ll deactivate your nervous system,” you growl and Soonyoung responds by trailing his mouth across your neck—suckling at the skin above your pulse with a conniving grin. 
Just like any other humanoid Level 1, Soonyoung is soft in all places humans should be. His lips, his skin—everything. While the physics that surrounded an Automaton’s male genitalia are out of your scope of expertise, it’s infinitesimally interesting to know that their cocks work the exact same way as a human’s. Even if there’s no blood coursing through his non-existent veins, Soonyoung still gets hard with just the right stimulus. 
That stimulus being the swell of your breasts because he hasn’t parted from them since he started suckling on the sensitive flesh five minutes ago.
“Soonie,” you whimper, grinding your sopping core against his thigh. “More. Give me more.”
He laughs—a breathless little sound before his gaze flickers up to you so lovingly, it almost hurts. “I thought I was the impatient one between the two of us.”
“Just shut up and fuck me, please.” 
The raw desire in your plea makes the smile disappear from his face. When Soonyoung presses his forehead against yours, his gaze sears into your own so intensely, you’ll still be able to see him with your eyes closed.
“I never thought I’d ever get to hear you beg for me,” he admits, adjusting himself on the couch for your comfort. “I want to hear it again.”
Your Automaton lover doesn’t give you any forewarning that he’ll be pushing the head of his cock inside you. You’re simply greeted by the welcome intrusion of him parting your slick walls—little to no preparation needed because of how much you’re dripping onto the cushions. Soonyoung hisses between his teeth, a ravenous look that you’ve never seen sitting on his face, which has you clamping down deliciously against his length.
“Do you feel it?” he murmurs, sinking inch by fucking inch into you. “Do you feel me inside you?”
You feel him everywhere. All of your senses are overloaded with him, him, him. Right now, he isn’t Hoshi from 53V3NT33N or Hoshi, the rising star of the red light district.
He’s Soonyoung. Your precious, irreplaceable Soonyoung.
“Yes,” you moan out loud, fucking your hips back onto his to generate the friction you so direly needed. “Deeper, Soonyoung. Want you deeper.”
And he gives you just that. 
Soonyoung pistons his hips with practiced ease, not a single pant to be heard from him as his cock plunges in and out of your wet heat. You pull him into your embrace like you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you don’t hold onto him tightly enough and your lover quickly picks up on the message—wrapping his strong arms around you as he mercilessly pounds you into the sofa.
Every word you know eludes you as the mind-numbing pleasure frazzles your brain. You can’t even articulate how good it feels to have him ram into you like he wants to leave his mark inside your body forever. You’ve never had sex this toe-curling, and it’s a little pitiful to make that discovery when the one who’s fucking you to an inch of your life isn’t even human.
But that’s what makes it feel right in the midst of its wrongness. 
When you come apart on his cock the first time, it makes you wonder if that’s what it feels like to fall from grace. The creeping high leading up to your release as you free-fall into oblivion should’ve been daunting, but all that sings in your veins is pure ecstasy as Soonyoung fucks you through your orgasm. 
He leans down to capture your lips, devouring your mouth in a way that only means he’s staking his claim. It’s a kiss that bruises—a kiss that persists. And you barely hear yourself scream his name into his mouth when you finally come down from bliss.
Just when you thought you could finally let yourself breathe, Soonyoung gently turns you around on the couch—forcing your back into an arch as he props you up by the knees. Still disoriented from your last orgasm, you don’t immediately process what he’s trying to do until you feel the hardness of his cock nudging against the ridge of your ass.
That’s when you remember that Automatons do not get tired. 
Fuck.
“You better be ready for me,” Soonyoung chuckles into your ear before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. 
“If you want me, you’re getting all of me.”
In the aftermath, you let yourself look at Soonyoung even with your eyes streaked with tears. He’s smiling at you like you’re the most precious thing in all the galaxies combined and you’re too fucked out to not melt into his embrace when he engulfs you in the heat of his arms.
You love him, you think. 
Loving a machine that shouldn’t be capable of love is contradictory in every sense of the word. He’s a complete softie whenever he hangs out with you, but would pass as a predator when he’s with his clients. He’s a bot that loves to dance, but would give that up in a heartbeat if others needed him for another purpose. 
Then again the lines have started to blur considerably since Soonyoung started fucking you into incoherence. Pain and pleasure, human and not human, love and lust—
“I love you,” you murmur, only half conscious as Soonyoung carries you to your bed. “Soonyoung, I love you…”
A soft laugh rumbles deep in his chest as he tucks you in—replacing the warmth of his body with the comfort of your blanket. You frown at the sudden change, but he’s tired you out too much for you to hold up any sort of protest. 
As he stands before the doorway, you manage to wrench your eyes open just a tad—enough to see the ray of sunshine standing before you with a loving look on his face. He even does that little pose with his fingers clenched like a tiger’s claws—the one he did when he opened his eyes after you managed to fix him the first time.
Horanghae… That’s what he called it, right?
You’re too exhausted to notice the pained undertones that lurk beneath Soonyoung’s smile, but perhaps it’s something that you can deal with once morning comes. 
If he’s still there at all.
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“That took you a while.”
Jisung’s voice is clipped when Soonyoung emerges from your house with an indifferent look on his face. Standing right behind him are a bunch of familiar faces—namely 53V3NT33N’s main manager along with a handful of guards that used to keep them tightly locked up back in their main facility on Earth.
He never thought he’d have to see them again.
“If I’m leaving this place for good, I’m not going to go without giving her something to remember me by,” Soonyoung grumbles, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweats as he rejoins his former colleagues. “Is it true? You’ll give Jisung enough money for his brother’s transplant if I come back?”
His manager nods once. “Positive. The reward money will be doubled since you returned without resistance. But I cannot guarantee the degree of the punishment you’ll be facing because of your escape.” 
Right. Of course there’ll be consequences for his own actions. But Soonyoung is just glad that he got to have you at least once in his robotic life before he has to turn himself back in.
“Jisung,” Soonyoung—no, Hoshi calls out. “Can you promise to take care of her? If you don’t, I’ll personally fly back here to kill you with my own two hands.”
“Hoshi,” one of the guards grunts behind him, shoving his back with a warning glare. “No violence. Even minor threats like that will make your sentence even heavier.”
He doesn’t care. Not really.
“Just give the man his money and let’s go,” he grumbles, forcing himself to turn away from the direction of your house before his code malfunctions and he ends up bolting back inside. 
His manager nods before one of the assistants presents Jisung with a suitcase full of enough wads of cash to fund his brother’s surgery and more. There’s a look on your neighbor’s face that Hoshi can only identify as regret, but there’s really no use for that now.
Even if Jisung didn’t need the money from turning over a rogue Automaton, Hoshi still would’ve surrendered eventually. When word got around that his hunters had finally tracked him down to Salax, he already knew his days were numbered. 
But despite knowing all that, it doesn't stop him from wishing he had more time.
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When daylight comes and the sun lights up the darkness of your room, you squint at how bright it shines even through the curtains. You’re sore all over and it only takes a single glance at your body to realize that maybe having multiple rounds of sex with a tireless Automaton wasn’t one of the best choices you’ve made in your life. 
That, and you’re going to have to give Soonyoung a very long lecture about the physiological differences between his body and yours. And that leaving without waking you up is a major foul when it comes to sleeping with someone you care about.
Right after freshening up and soothing every bit of tender flesh, you go about your day like usual—doing chores, checking if Jisung is home (he’s not), and holing yourself up in your lab to work on a few projects you’ve been procrastinating long enough. 
But just when you’re about to bust open your toolbox, you notice a familiar gadget sitting on top of your work table. The same work table that you could’ve sworn you made sure to clear out the previous evening.
It’s another portable hologram projector—one that looks exactly like the old artifact you managed to revive thanks to Soonyoung’s intervention. This one looks less shabby than the one Jisung gave you back then, and you realize that there’s a note stuck to the bottom.
The switch is right beneath the motherboard. Don’t forget! - S
Huh. That guy had the time to put together a hologram for you, but he couldn’t be bothered to wake you up before he left? The nerve of some Automatons, really…
None the wiser about your newfound lover’s actual whereabouts, you followed the instructions Soonyoung whispered into your ear several months ago before letting it play.
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⟢ end notes: yay you're at the end of it! thank you so much for reading <3 thank you so so much to bee for being big-brained enough to put this collab together. i've always wanted to 1.) write a sci-fi fic and 2.) write more for soonyoung so this opportunity was a good avenue for both <3 i'm just bummed bc i procrastinated this for too long and kind of ended up with a subpar fic, but !! i still kinda enjoyed building the world around soonyoung and yn and their friends :') in another life, i would've fleshed this out properly, but for now, i'll leave you all with this! do check out the other fics in the collab bc it will definitely expand on this massive universe that we all worked hard to put together <3
this is part of @idyllic-ghost's svt sci-fi collab!
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eteisvalssi · 3 months
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finally got back home ik this joke is getting old but thankfully sara didn’t also want to stop the buses today because i would’ve been stuck in tampere otherwise and i finally have time to watch umk so i decided to write down some thoughts from the whole experience
- tampere as a host city was perfect. we didn’t have time to do anything before the event but the whole city looked so beautiful in purple light
- we arrived there at 7pm i think and there was almost no line to the floor seats, but the third floor was jam-packed with ppl bc all the activities and restaurants were there
- when we went to check our seats, they didn’t exist 🤠 we asked a staff member about it and they were like yeah we had to move your seats due to safety reasons, but you can pick a seat from this row that’s multiple rows back from your original seat. i’m now in the process of figuring out if our new seats were from a section with lower-priced tickets because if they were, i don’t really think sitting on the same row as some important people really made for the value lost
- the pre-show was great! the dance performance was good and we had so much fun singing along to all the songs they were playing while waiting for the actual show to start
- ylivoimainen/hoida mut mashup was indeed very kuumaa 🔥ylivoimainen was my most played song ever on spotify until a certain slovenian band took over and i love that they brought them back
- kuori mua. the song itself is fun and it really grew on me before umk, but sini was not the strongest singer that night and the staging was not my taste. wig snatched though
- dancing with demons. i liked this song, but idk why it feels so dated to me. susanna is a great vocalist though!
- glow. we were instructed to put our flashlights on for this song. this is a song that would’ve done better at melodifestivalen. it’s a bop and the most danceable out of all the songs and could become a huge hit this summer
- vox populi. i had mixed feelings about this one. i like it as a song, it’s catchy and i love nublu’s voice, but something in it feels a bit off. also the staging just wasn’t working.
- paskana. this reminded me too much of tattoo. she did give a great performance and she’s a very good singer, though pitchy at some points. deserved the jury points though.
- mania. the one that surprised me the most! the staging looked good live and even though he’s not the strongest singer of this year’s artists, his live vocals still surprised me in a good way.
- no rules. when they brought in the jegg and hung up the jorts, i didn’t know what to expect, but this was definitely not it. i didn’t like the song when it first came out, but the performance itself made it the best song that night and it deserved the win.
- the yle app didn’t even let me in when i wanted to vote :(
- pilvi’s performance. i’m not even exaggerating when i say that we just stood there with our mouths open for like half the song because we couldn’t believe we were witnessing such a bop. i’d heard pilvi sing before because she actually starred in a musical in my hometown before she became well known but i didn’t remember she was that good
- katri helena is a legend ❤️ ngl hittiputki has ruined me because i was just waiting for someone to sing señorita por favor after that 💀
- when they started announcing the international jury votes there was suddenly a huge camera right in front of us and at that point we realized that the people who sat next to us were the ones announcing the spanish and swedish votes (btw thobias seems so sweet! he was so excited when they announced the winner!). i was also worried that the camera would block my view from seeing joker out giving the points but luckily they went away for that 😂
- ruoska!!! it’s a banger and worked well on stage. at the end of this häärijä walked right in front of us wrapped in something dark and i didn’t even notice it before my friend was like omg was that häärijä 😂
- cha cha cha! loved seeing all of the dancers and it looked amazing on stage with the pyros and the lights and it actually got me kinda emotional
- the results were kinda surprising, but not really. i didn’t even think of windows95man as a contender for the win before that day, but hearing how much the audience cheered for him just when he was entering the green room before the show was kinda telling
- the afterparty was nice, imo there were too many people but what can you do when suddenly all of finland loves eurovision. there was music and some of the artists came to sing for us, we saw the winners and keira from last year!
- there were so many youtubers and influencers and other celebs i feel like everywhere i looked there was someone whose face i recognized
- at one point we went to the bathroom and just when i closed the door i heard the words mi bomo celo noč plesali and immediately ran back to the dancefloor by myself 😂
all in all it was a great event! me and my friend had so much fun and there was lots to do and see. hope to be there next year too :)
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when i had the chance - j.m.k
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author’s note: still not really present on here and for that i’m sorry, but here is some josh angst bc i feel like hurting some people. it’s only short, but i hope you guys enjoy it.
the past few months had been hellish for josh.
his days were empty, meaningless. they passed by without him, time slipping through his fingers while he stood motionless. he made no effort to keep up with the life he was missing out on, nor did he try to pretend he cared about it.
since she left, he didn’t see much point in, well, anything. it seemed that with her she took everything he considered dear; every tiny detail of his life was tainted with the very essence of her being. she had woven herself through the fabric of his world, and now the tapestry of life he called his was falling apart, disintegrating into mere threads.
guilt, anger and pure, unadulterated misery was all he truly knew now. of course, there were times when he was distracted from it all- being on stage, performing for a crowd who adored him and he, in turn, adored back was all he could fixate on, so he threw himself into all aspects of his unexpected career and convinced himself this was what people called recovery.
despite the distraction his work provided, when the day was over he would crumble. late at night, all he could bare to do was think of her and everything he had lost. a tiny voice gnawing away at his conscience reminded him that it was all his fault. he was to blame for this suffering, and now he had to deal with it.
if only he had been better to her. if only he had appreciated what he had when he had it. hindsight is a funny thing, he’d muse- a person never truly understands how important something is until it is no longer theirs to have.
he was a fool.
he had been stupid, callous and irresponsible with the seemingly unconditional love she gave him, he treated her as a secondary thought and never once considered that this beautiful, stable thing in his life would one day pick up and leave. he didn’t think about the consequences of his actions and now that they had revealed themselves to him, he didn’t want to believe it true.
“please, please, josh. i just want to-”
“-listen, i can’t. you know this. i’m too busy to go out fucking dancing, okay?”
“okay. i’m sorry for asking.”
how could he have been so harsh? so dismissive to someone he was supposed to love? he was disgusted with himself for how he had acted.
he should’ve given her everything she could possibly ever want and more. she deserved more than he could’ve given her, but he knew that his effort, his attention and his love would’ve been enough for her. she was endlessly forgiving and at the time, her forgiveness was something he had snatched from her and handled without care. now he wished he had never given her a reason to forgive him in the first place.
josh laid in the bed they once shared, reaching his hand out to brush over her empty side. her pillow still smelled like her, and while he would never openly admit it to anyone- not even jake- he often found his arms wrapped around the pillow, his face buried into the cotton as he woke up from a restless night. he would usually throw it across the room with blinding anger, unable to look at the small subconscious reminder that his body still craved her comfort. the pillow would always be gently placed in its rightful spot by the end of the day.
this night in particular was rough. he didn’t know why, nor did he really want to know why. he knew that he needed her. he needed to hear her voice, even if her words were bitter and cruel.
his finger hovered over his screen, before gingerly pressing her number.
the line rang for some time, until he was sure he was being ignored. a deep sigh left his chest, resting the phone on his chest as he waited for the line to disconnect, but it never came.
“hello?”
her voice was muffled and quiet, but it was hers. josh scrambled to pick the phone up again, pressing it to his ear with panicked speed.
it suddenly dawned on him that he had absolutely nothing to say to her. there wasn’t a single word in the english language that could express the vast multitude of feelings sitting heavy against his mind, and so his mouth gaped open.
“josh, are you there?” she whispered.
he still couldn’t find it in himself to speak, squeezing his eyes shut with frustration.
“josh, if you’re there, and i think you are, please don’t call me again. i can’t- i can’t cope with you and i don’t need to be reminded of anything to do with you, okay? i’ve moved on, and i think you should do the same. it isn’t fair for you to call me in the middle of the night, because you know i’ll always answer. it’s fucked up for you to do this to me and- god, would you just fucking speak, please?”
his heart hammered against his ribcage, causing every breath he took in to feel strained and uncomfortable. he could feel her waiting for an answer, and could almost envision her face. she was almost definitely pursing her lips, eyes wide with the tiniest hint of a pink flushing over her cheeks, angrily huffing out every breath, while her arms crossed over her chest. it was a face he had become very familiar with towards the end of their relationship.
“i’m sorry for calling.” he uttered, his voice catching in his throat.
“yeah, i’m sorry you called, too.” she shot back.
“i just-”
“-you just what, josh?”
“i miss you.” he croaked out after a long pause, his words feeling foreign against his tongue.
“you don’t get to miss me.” she whispered, her voice holding a higher, tighter quality that told him she was holding back tears.
“do you miss me, too?”
a silence ensued. he anxiously anticipated her harsh answer with his breath baited. she sighed, and he could hear the sobs in her chest shaking her breath.
“i-maybe. but that isn’t the point. you can’t call me, josh.”
“i know, and i’m sorry. i just..needed to hear your voice again.”
“well, you heard it.” she says with a quiet, bitter laugh.
“you moved on?” he asks softly, dreading the answer he already knew.
“yeah, i did. he’s a good man. he makes time for me, he tells me how much he loves every night before we sleep, he takes me dancing. he’s good to me.”
her final sentence was filled with venom, a direct and purposeful attack on him. he felt the blow in his gut, painfully squeezing before crawling up his oesophagus to sit at the back of his throat, stomach acid harshly burning his skin. he swallowed thickly, but the pain never subsided.
“…that’s good. you deserve someone good.” he whispers, letting his eyes fall shut.
“i do. i always did. it’s just a shame you weren’t that guy.”
he nodded. there was no way he could disagree with her, and not even his bruised ego could motivate him to feel anger towards her or her sentiments.
“there’s no way you will ever forgive me, i know this- but please know how fucking sorry i am. i’m so, so sorry that i treated you like shit. i was so fucking dumb, and so awful. you have every right to hate me, darling.”
“i don’t hate you.”
she spoke so softly he almost didn’t hear it. something clutched at his irregular heart, and it was then that he realised just how badly he had fucked up.
she was so good to him. she was the most wonderful woman he had ever met, and he threw her away as if she was nothing. the mere fact that despite it all, she couldn’t hate him spoke volumes for the type of person she was and said nothing to the man he was.
“i know i’m far too late to try to apologise for all of this. it was stupid of me to call. nothing i can say will make up for any of it.” he sighed.
“you’re right, it is too late. but i understand why you did it.”
“you aren’t a bad person, josh.” she says quietly when he doesn’t answer.
“you don’t have to lie, darling. i am. this is just a mistake i have to learn from.”
“just please promise me, josh, that you treat whoever you fall in love with next a lot better than you did me.”
he breathed a quiet laugh, because the very thought of loving another woman after her made him feel sick.
“don’t laugh. i know it feels like you’ll never love someone again, but you will. one day you’ll find someone who makes you feel more than you ever felt with me, and she’ll be the right one for you. just- don’t let her slip away, too. you deserve a second chance.”
“i should’ve proved to you how much i loved you, darling. when i had the chance.”
she seemed unable to find an appropriate response, and so they both fell silent, sitting in the weight of their words and letting all of the repressed feelings dance in their chests.
“i should go.” she was the first to break their silence, and he felt inclined to agree despite his heart screaming to never let her go.
“yeah. i’m sorry for calling.”
“stop apologising, josh. what’s done is done. all you can do now is move on from this.”
“i just want you to be happy.”
that was the most truthful thing he had said all night, in all honesty. it was all he wanted, even if she was happy without him.
“i am happy. but that doesn’t mean- i should go.” she cuts herself off, sighing loudly.
“goodbye, darling. i love you.” josh whispers, expecting the line to disconnect.
“i love you too.”
this quiet admission from her was all he needed, and he was the one to end the call.
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tutuandscoot · 1 year
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Interesting to see you go all the way back to the Sochi Olympic season for their best performances. I could guess your answers, but can you explain why? And why it’s not certain other performances like 2010 or 2018 Olys?
Idk if I could exactly tell you why either..
I guess on one hand I want to give credit to not just their comeback/ final performances. OBVIOUSLY their final performances are.. like the one of the most incredible things I’ve ever seen.. but also they worked incredibly hard and peaked for those performances and they deserved to have skates that were that good.
But what I like to highlight when I talk about them is their professionalism throughout their career. They didn’t love those 2013/2014 programs (they admit the SD they came to like a lot but never the FD in the way they needed to) but none the less you were never able to tell watching them those weren’t pieces that lit their hearts on fire (esp at the olys). If you didn’t know then you wouldn’t suspect it- Because they are just born performers. Tessa is a born dancer and Scott is blessed with a love of acting, ability to create characters and with a dedication and love for his partner- the way he partners her putting him up there with the best leading men of stage and screen. Then together as a team they created magic. A side note on this as well is they never blamed the style on a poor performance like others have. They never said, ‘oh this isn’t our style so it wasn’t that good’, they embraced every challenge and were amazing at everything they did.
They are so versatile not only in dance style but in their ability to dance anything like it’s the last time they are going to dance. For T I go back to those performances because she shone so bright like the star she is. I love her in that leading lady role.. being shown off by her partner bc she is so amazing she makes his job so easy - her face, her twinkling eyes, her expression, musicality, precision, her port de bras, her presence reaching out the arena and across that massive damn country, her joy of dancing, competing, doing what she loves with her best friend. No amount of heartbreaking BS they had been put through that season was enough to disturb her star quality and professionalism, and learning later on she was very close to broken emotionally following the 12/13 season, every time she stepped on the ice shining as bright as she did is a testament to her will power and professionalism. I can take those performances as they are ignoring everything else I know and I still think they are incredible. It’s not a case of ‘they did the best with what they were given’, it’s ‘they are so incredible and mesmerising they make what they are given the best thing you have ever seen’. I can also view it knowing everything and think how incredible it is that they performed the way they did despite everything being against them and being almost completely on their own, and how they made those two skates performances they will be proud of forever.
No doubt in their comeback programs you can feel a deeper intimacy that didn’t seem possible for them to have because it was already a love that seems too pure to actually exist, and I’m so proud they got to that place and there are performances that mean more to me and I think more to them on a level deeper than a great competitive skate- more to them as humans and people who went through hell and back together. Then going back to all three of their YVR 2010 skates.. I mean really I probably should’ve said those performances because like with 2013/14 you never would’ve guessed they nearly didn’t make it.. both athletically and personally.. but I went with 2013/14 I think because their growth and maturity from 2010-14, they were just bbys in 2010, not able to fathom their own brilliance, still strength to gain and life experience lived to enhance their artistry. In 2014 they were brilliant and they had to find the courage to believe they were brilliant despite those closest (cough Marina) not believing in them.. then when they came back.. they had people who truly loved and believed in them facilitating, backing them up with confidence.. but the approach they took into the comeback.. I just view a lot of that phase on a different level.. I’ll talk about that more another time.
The ones I picked are the ones I didn’t have to think about too much… just programs/performances I can watch and think, yeh that was incredible. The professionalism, the artistry, maturity.. they weren’t simply figure skaters, they were artists.. so much more then their sport asked of them.
Also I’m gonna say Umbrellas at 2008 worlds for T because.. omg like I actually believe she thought she was in an old movie the way she was so lost in it- confirmed by her reaction afterwards- the first laugh/cry.. she was just so happy..
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lunaastoir · 3 years
Note
Hi! I really enjoy your writing so is it alright if i request xiao, diluc, childe with an idol s/o where one of their old stalkers come back or they just recently had a stalker in general but with how busy they were since they’re an idol they don’t even notice? And something bad happens (i cant think of anything</3) Thank you very much !!
hi anon!! a million apologies since this is so late but i hope you like the fic <3
there also aren’t any explicit details for anything bad happening - i briefly touched on subjects that you may not have control over, i hope that’s ok! 
warning (?): struggled a bit on this prompt so i apologize in advance if this isn’t my best work LMAOO
gn! reader
tw: hints of assault, slight angst, very light abuse if you squint
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xiao
now xiao is a very observant man but he's also extremely busy keeping liyue safe
he makes it a point to always come to your shows even if you don't actively see him bc he cares a lot abt you and he enjoys listening to your music ‼️
it's normal for him to sometimes get lost between his own world of demonslaying and the world he shares w you
so one night, he's hanging on the rafters of a house with the perfect view of your singing
everything goes smoothly, he sets his spear down while lightly swaying his head to the music
the concert ends and fans disperse after you say your farewells
a night like this is rare since for once, xiao can walk home w you back to the inn sweet boy really cleared out his schedule for you huh
you're unsurprised when you see him materialize next to you, opting to flash him a smile and a hello
his cheeks are lightly flushed as he crosses his arms before talking quietly about how well you did
he relishes in the wide smile you give him as a result of his praise and he lets the corners of his lips curve upwards slightly
the quiet bustle of the harbor seemed to slow down as the night grew longer
since this was a fairly large concert, you had boxes among boxes of equipment so xiao decided to make your life easier by quickly flying them to their appropriate locations
when he got back however, he was surprised to see you talking animatedly with someone
he didn't think anything was wrong until he saw the person trap you between the stage and words filtered into his ears
your back was painfully pressed against the stage wall as you defiantly met their gaze. after xiao had left, they had immediately come over to you: first introducing themselves as a fan and making amiable conversation, before divulging in personal details of your life that made your skin crawl. you weren’t helpless, you always had your weapon on hand regardless of whether you were performing or not. the way they pushed you against the wall however, made it near impossible to summon your sword should you need it. 
they leered down at you while balancing an arm against the wall next to your head. you had dealt with things like this before so you weren’t overly worried; you could defend yourself. you almost felt pity for the person in front of you as they asked for your number with a sadistic grin, disgusting words tumbling off of their lips. however, that was before you felt their cold fingers idly make their way to your stomach and you felt your breath hitch. oh no
the telltale sound of whooshing alerted you of xiao’s presence, and the press of the tip of his spear against their jugular brought you relief. 
“back away” he tightly growled while his golden eyes narrowed into slits. they stared at him in shock before holding their hands up and moving to step a foot away from you. 
“farther” he motioned with his spear before stepping in front of you as you attempted to collect yourself. 
“ok ok, i’m far away can you put your spear down now?” 
“no.” 
you mentally cursed as you watched the two of them glare at each other. this was supposed to be a carefree night but this unfortunate twist made the air thick with tension. you could feel the anger radiate off of xiao in waves and in an effort to deescalate the situation, you spoke. 
“i’m glad to meet such an...avid fan but i’m sorry the two of us must get going now” you hastily said before attempting to grab xiao’s hand and walk off past them. 
the next words had you halt your steps as they divulged their secret. 
words painted in careless arrogance with hints of violet overconfidence flew out of the person’s mouth - “judging from the weeks i’ve been following you, it didn’t seem like you had a boyfriend”
at the mere mention of prolonged stalking, xiao immediately lunged to pull you behind him. god, he didn’t kill mortals but he swore if he plunged his spear into this human being right here, no one would even blink twice considering how low of a person they were. 
“if i ever see you near them again, i will not hesitate to kill you. i won’t blink twice, i already have blood on my hands.” he ground out.
at the threat, the person grudgingly turned their back to you before leaving the two of you alone in the quiet harbor. 
you carefully reached a hand out to touch your boyfriend’s shoulder, but stopped after you saw the expression on his face. the mix of rage, sadness, and anguish imprinted his features as you watched his chest rapidly rise and fall - a result of his emotional battle. 
“i’m sorry i didn’t notice them before. i should’ve been paying more attention to you” he whispered before silently striding away from your grasp 
you knew that no matter how many reassurances you gave him about how, “it’s not your fault xiao, i didn’t notice them either” he would still blame himself. 
he was supposed to protect you right? so why couldn’t he sense the danger beforehand? what would’ve happened if he wasn’t there?
it’s still a learning process for him to realize that things happen, and he inevitably couldn’t be there to save you from everything. he needs time to understand and adjust. you’re willing to wait, patiently helping him through it. why? because love is worth it. 
god im sorry this ended up kinda sad whoops
diluc 
i swear everytime i say i’m a childe simp diluc kinda wrecks me
ahem anyways onto the hc!
he’s kinda never around but similar to xiao he will overwork himself to clear out an hour or two just to watch your concerts 
he’ll always stand off to the side too so if you tilt your head while you’re singing you can spy his red hair 
you always flash him the sweetest smile and this man blushes like CRAZY before quickly lifting his hand up to give you a thumbs up 
everyone watching the both of you like 😍😦
people think it’s the cutest thing i swear like c’mon the elusive “bachelor of mondstadt” being seen in public supporting you??? wow pls can we share him
he walks with you back to the winery, the entire time linking his hands with yours while gushing about your performance 
1939248/10 it’s literally the sweetest thing 
the next day however, adelinde brings you a pink letter addressed to you 
he doesn’t pry because it’s addressed to you and it’s your business but as the letters start coming by everyday, he starts to grow curious 
one day he straight up just asks you about it
“hey, you know those pink letters you keep getting? who are they from?”
you laugh slightly at his bashfulness and respond with a “just some overexcited fan” and he smiles before kissing your forehead 
he loves that people are noticing your talent 
loves it! until you get stalked by the same person who wrote you those letters while you were shopping!
diluc knows something’s wrong when you rush into angel’s share panicked after not returning his usual smile. 
“darling? are you ok?” he asks worriedly before quickly setting down the glass he was cleaning to move towards you. 
the widening of your eyes as you looked behind you at the sounds of someone else entering was all he needed to swiftly step in front of you, blocking their gaze of your face. 
the slightly panicked look in your eyes before you hurriedly whispered, “they’re following me” made diluc glance at them subtly out of the corner of his eye. he watched as they walked over to find a seat next to the bar, seemingly ready to order a drink. he quietly asked if you would like to sit in the room reserved for the employees, away from their prying eyes. your hasty nod was all the confirmation he needed for him to let you access the door behind him. 
the night went by fairly smoothly with kaeya’s usual teasing and venti’s usual begging for alcohol. diluc’s eyes narrowed however, when the person seemed to ask him questions regarding you. things like, “i heard you’re dating y/n... they’re amazing, how long have you been together?” and “do they live with you at dawn winery?” diluc answered these questions as short as he could, trying to convey with his body language that he truly did not want to talk to them. 
everything was going well until he made the mistake of leaving the bar unattended. he had briefly forgotten about your residence in the room behind him as his mind immediately gravitated to breaking up a brawl. when he returned, the half drunk glass of liquor combined with the person’s absence from their seat, caused sparks of worry to light up inside his chest. 
turning to the door, he knocked once. 
“is everything alright in there love?”
the sounds of things rustling about and the occasional muffled voice had him opening the door quickly. he saw you with your arm being held tightly in their grasp, your mouth muffled with their hand, while you strained against them by pulling at your arm. 
diluc immediately made his way over to you, quickly pulling your arm away before letting you enter into his embrace. 
“get out.” the venomous words clawed their way out of his throat as he looked at them with eyes that screamed hatred. his blood was boiling as his mind replayed the scene; your scared expression and their greedy eyes. 
diluc didn’t need to repeat himself twice as they ran out, trying not to trip over crates of wine. he made a mental note to find out who they were in order to make sure they never came near you ever again. 
he quickly looked down at your form, relaxing slightly at the sight of your tentative smile. “my knight in shining armor” you joked before softly nuzzling your head into his shoulder. the anger had yet to dissipate from his veins, and although he knew you were still shaken up, he was sure you would be fine. 
a pink letter placed on the table next to you caught his eye, and he made sure to quickly pocket it as he led you out, gently jesting with you about the “unnecessary amount of wine barrels in here, diluc this is a safety hazard!” 
he would deal with this person later. 
childe
ayo AYO ITS THE TOY SALESMAN
ok tbh he’s very rarely around so he unfortunately cannot make it to all of your shows 
dw tho, he will try his hardest to be there for the ones he’s in town for bc what is he if not your number one hype king??? 
ok kinda creepy! alert 
he’s tasked two of his subordinates to keep watch over you whenever he’s out of the harbor
it’s not anything creepy,,, he just gets extremely worried abt you and wants to make sure you’re safe 
sO when he gets a ransom note??? he’s understandably confused but also very much freaked out 
bc did they not know who he was??? the fact that they thought they could get away with holding you captive was quite honestly kind of funny to him 
very stressed and angry tho - hides it behind a facade of smiles but he’s raging 
takes him only a few hours to track you down bc he had everyone and i mean EVERYONE looking for you 
the note crunched in his hand as the harbinger made his way towards windrise. his pace was erratic, long legs rushing towards the small cave his agents had found. they were bordering the perimeter of the enclosure, careful to not alert you or your captor of their presence. childe’s subordinate head had calmly stated that childe need not come out to rescue you, the situation was under control and they could do it for him. however, childe’s sharp gaze along with his sickly sweet words of “thanks but no. i’m coming out to see this sorry asshole for myself” had the agent backing away apologizing. he wanted to see the look on this person’s face before he shoved their sorry ass into the abyss himself. 
as he reached the opening of the cave, he glanced over his shoulder at his head agent; a silent warning to keep the area sealed. his blue eyes glinted with a thirst for blood before making his way into the cave, sealing off the exit with his body. 
“well well, playing games with the love of my life are we?” 
his teasing words reached your ears as your eyes immediately found the face of your boyfriend. you weren’t horribly scared, just a little shaken up and sore from the bindings on your wrists. relief coursed through your body at the sight of him. you needn’t put in your plan of getting out of these bindings to fight your captor yourself anymore. 
childe’s eyes quickly scanned over your frame, making sure you weren’t hurt. at the state of you completely unharmed, the harbinger let his heart calm down slightly. you were completely ok. 
“wait a little longer, love? i promise this will be over soon”
the wink he sent you had you lightly rolling your eyes at his antics before he directed his attention back to your kidnapper. if your captor wasn’t scared before, they were certainly shaking in their boots now at the sight of childe’s twin hydro blades rotating playfully in his hands. 
“listen, all i want is the money-”
“and all i want is your head” 
your boyfriend smiled after cutting them off. the severity of the situation truly seemed to sink in at that moment before pleas of mercy fell from your captor’s lips, desperate to escape the bloodthirsty gaze of the harbinger. childe’s eyes flickered over to yours where you sat there, with your head ferociously shaking. a silent “no.” he sighed before swiftly bringing his arm up to hit your captor on the head, effectively knocking them out cold. 
his hands worked at the ropes holding you and he gingerly rubbed at your bruised wrists. you silently thanked the archons he could never say no to you. archons forbid what would've happened if you hadn’t said anything. while you were explaining what happened, the young man quickly scooped you up in his arms before walking out of the cave. 
you playfully hit his shoulder while muttering “drama queen” but you stopped when you saw his face morph into an expression of seriousness. you had informed him on the situation about your captor revealing themselves to be a recent stalker of yours, completely oblivious to the look of frustration on his face as he freed you from your bondages. 
“i was scared you know.” he quietly divulged. “i knew that it wasn’t anything extremely serious but i... i was still scared”
you swore as you looked at him in that moment, he had turned ten again. the youth of his face betraying his vulnerability. 
you quietly hummed before tangling your fingers in his hair. “i hope you know it wasn’t your fault. it wasn’t anyone’s fault. not even the two fatui agents who you sent to stalk me while you were away.”
he quietly laughed at that before mentally filing away a reminder for a lecture to those two agents in the near future. 
“i’m just glad you’re safe. i know you can save yourself but i’ll always be here. i still wish you would let me take care of your asshole kidnapper myself though.” he pouted jokingly. 
“i’m sure the millelith will lock them up for a long time.” you laughed sweetly. 
his usual smile reappeared at your antics. maybe he didn’t get to beat your captor up and do...much worse. however at the end of the day, your smile was still intact regardless of what happened. that’s all he wanted. 
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stopeatingwhales · 3 years
Text
the 1995 brits (pt. 2) x damon albarn & liam gallagher
ok this has nothing to do with the brits bc now its about glastonbury 1995 i just didn't know whether i should rename it lmaoo okay enjoy x
Pairing: 1995 damon albarn & liam gallagher x reader
Warnings: none at all
Word count: 2.495
part one
༉‧₊˚✧
The Glastonbury festival was always one of the best gatherings for music every year. All the best acts in the music would all be invited to perform, and it was amazing. It formed a unity, a connection between the fans and the artists, the creators and the consumers, morphing an atmosphere which only gentrified the solidarity and wholeness the nation felt when they all held adoration to the same album, same songs, singing the choruses from their hearts, with their whole being. It was a spiritual connection with the audience; you weren’t singing to them, you were singing with them. Nothing got as good as Glastonbury - a concert size any larger you would begin to feel detached with the audience - and boy was it a good feeling to be invited this year. Our band had blown up massively, and to be able to perform on the main stage, celebrating the summer and the true joys that music is able to provide and attain, is more than just doing your part. It’s a humbling experience; the lyrics that may have seemingly been written down as a daft thought on the back of a napkin whilst you were sitting having a coffee, relaxing in the tedious cycle that is life, being chanted back to you, shows the true connection those can have with simple melodies and lyrics. Once it’s released in any format, the music, the lyrics, the melodies, they aren’t yours; just as a book, once released, is not the authors’ anymore. It possesses the ownership of the public, that who purchases it, wears it out, listens to the songs back to back to memorise every single lyric and adlib. The songs become the nation's songs, they become the mere link to a dozen memories of each and every person, which they would take to their grave, remembering the good times, and potentially the bad. The true power of music is that it forms a connection - not just with the artist, but with yourself. You can relate to whatever has been said, you can understand yourself just that bit more which allows you to grow as a person, and mature and better into the person that you were set out to be.
I was standing backstage, currently watching the performance lead by Blur, trying to hide from any form of authority who would know that I wasn’t supposed to be back here yet. My band was on in a few hours, so I wasn’t permitted backstage, the only people allowed being the group that was on next. As I admired the performance being put on by Damon and the rest of the band, mumbling lyrics every now and again of songs that I had known from their albums, I felt an arm snake its way around my waist, the grip of the person’s palm squeezing my hip slightly. “Now how come I haven’t seen your pretty face in a while?” said Liam, who was grinning at me widely.
Since the Brit awards, I forced myself to stop partying as much as I used to, due to the addiction that had been stemming from my consistent use of drugs and alcohol. It began to take its toll on me entirely, and I hated the lifestyle that I had started to inhabit. Sex, booze, drugs... they all seem so wonderful, and seem to be fundamental elements that could provide an enjoyable time, don't they? But with repetitive use of such recreational activities, it would not only initiate the worst hangovers, but would also form a pit of longing in the body, endured with your attempt to fill it up with all the illegal pharmaceuticals to make you feel whole again, but of course, the happiness only lasts for a short while before you’re passed out on a couch, waking up at 5 in the afternoon with a raging headache and the only access to pain medication being a five minute walk to the nearest corner shop because you had finished it all. And to your surprise, the pit only got more deep and paining. It was ironic; the drugs designed for jubilation, euphoria, fulfillment, started to make me feel worse than I had already done previously. “I’ve just been caught up with working on the new album, so I’ve been too focused on that to be going out like I used to,” I replied, a grin masked over my lips. It was far from a lie; my band were currently working on our third album, and it had been quite an interesting experience as we were reinventing our sound, though wasn’t the main reason I had avoided all clubs in sight. “You miss me?”
“Course I do, you’re the only girl I know that’ll go as hard as the rest of the lads,” a frown painted over his face as he looked down on me. “It’s hot, y’know.”
I scoffed, my smile still evident on my face. “Oh Liam, you’re going to make me blush!” I joked, placing my arm around his waist. We both carried on watching the performance being led by Damon, who currently had the crowd screaming over the top of their heads at Girls and Boys. Oasis were on after - even these concerts were chipping in on the mess of their feud. “You nervous?”
“Me? Nervous? Never.” Liam replied, snarling at my question.
“Really?” I asked, diverting my stare to look up at Liam, my eyebrows raised in a sarcastic manner. Even though it wasn’t evident from his facial expression, everybody would be nervous. Especially if you were performing on the main stage in a few minutes.
“Okay, maybe a little bit.” He mumbled, staring at Damon with a look of disgust on his face.
“Knew it,” I grinned, allowing my hand to run up and down his back as a form of comfort to soothe his nerves. The tight grip he kept consistent on my waist proved that he felt tense. “You’ll be amazing, you always are.”
“You hitting on me?” he quickly fired back, cocking his head to the side as he admired me, his gaze flicking to my lips every now and again.
“Of course I am.” I sarcastically replied, rolling my eyes at Liam’s child-like characteristics. By now Blur had finished their set, leaving the crowd screaming and waving things in the air as a form of goodbye. Me and Liam stayed put in our place as the four boys waltzed off the stage, me congratulating them as they walked off one by one. Damon was the last to walk off, and as he began strolling off the stage proudly, our eyes connected, causing me to dart my stare away from his robust glare that had reflected off of his orbs. Knowing of his distaste in Liam, I brushed it off immediately, remembering the pettiness of their argument the last time we had all been together at the Brits. I heard Liam utter some profanity under his breath after Damon walked past us, but I chose not to question him on it, full-well knowing it was either wanker or cunt.
When the rest of the band turned up and Oasis were on cue to go on, Liam quickly detached himself from our embrace, pressing his lips to my cheek, grinning at me widely. “Don’t miss me too much!” he shouted as he walked onto the stage, causing the crowd to erupt into a fit from the mere sight of the band getting themselves ready - Liam just standing there cooly, picking up the tambourine left on the floor for him. I marvelled at the band as they began their set, instantly grinning as soon as Liam began singing the lyrics to Rock n Roll star. Let’s hope he’s not walking off stage this time.
I continued to concentrate on their performance, oftentimes laughing as the crowd progressively got more and more rowdy, screaming the lyrics as Liam sang them, as if Noel’s backing vocals weren’t enough to keep the song going to its full potential. “I wonder when you’re going to realise that you like me.” I heard a voice mutter from behind, causing me to abruptly turn my head, even though I knew exactly who it was. My eyes were greeted with the sight of Damon, a small smirk illustrated on his lips as he glued his eyes on mine - just like he had done before when he walked past me and Liam.
“I’m sorry?” I scoffed, raising my eyebrows at his clearly egotistical assumption, though I couldn’t help but resist a smile to contract on my cheeks as I gazed at him. Much like me and Liam, we also hadn’t spoken since the Brit awards, and it would’ve been a lie if I hadn’t wanted to talk to him again. Despite the fact that there was a certain tension between us that, from each meeting, seemed to intensify, and was something we were both clearly aware of, I ignored it entirely - even if my bandmates had teased me religiously every time they saw me have an encounter with him. Go out with him already! You two are constantly flirting!
Moving away from where I was standing, I made my way over to him to be able to talk over the loud music seeping out of the speakers, instead of shouting at one another. We then exited the backstage area together, welcoming us to the view of a plain grassland where a couple trailers had been parked, both of our bands included. Eventually, we walked to one of the random trailers, assuming it was his one, and stood against the shiny metal impediment as we shared a cigarette.
“Don’t act like it’s not true,” he replied casually, him reciprocating my grin as we began to walk further into the backstage space. “I saw the way you were eyeing me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I replied, attempting to act oblivious towards his statement. I could feel him gawking, focused on me as I admired the blooming sunlight that casted out towards us, the light so bright that it caused my eyes to tear up slightly. The music was still very much audible, and the screams of the many thousands jammed together in the mosh pit were still extremely loud.
“Oh, but you do.” he mumbled, causing me to shift my view to look at him. He had now fixated his stare onto the sun, the cigarette softly placed between his lips as he inhaled quickly before taking it out and allowing the built-up smoke from his lungs to escape into the atmosphere. Dropping the tobacco roll onto the ground, he placed his foot over it in order to burn it out, then turning his head to fixate his gaze onto mine. A brief moment of silence passed as we admired one another, the atmosphere carrying an element of apprehension as to what was about to occur between us. Through my peripheral I saw moving his body slightly to come closer to mine as he lifted his back off the metal surface and stood in front of me, my gaze not daring to leave him. Our eyes maintained strong eye contact as I felt my cheeks began to heat up furiously, followed by my attempt on telling myself that it was simply due to the sun’s radiance that my face held such warmth, almost as if to doubt the feelings, the tensions that had constantly piled up every time we had seen one another.
Our noses touched as our faces then became inches apart, my eyes focused on Damon, who kept darting his eyes to my lips every few seconds. Tilting his head slightly, he leaned his body forward, softly pressing his lips onto mine. We stood there for a few seconds, to allow the moment to truly sink in. His hands were gently placed on my waist as I placed them on his arms, like a form of support to allow myself to stay upright. After a while, I snaked my hands around his neck in order to deepen the kiss, the warmth of his lips colliding against mine sending shocks all around my body - the moment didn’t feel real at all. It was as if this entire time of me knowing of him, interacting with him, being in his presence, I had attempted to avoid myself catching feelings, not getting myself engraved in a situation with another musician, but due to my mind forcing such a hindrance, it became an inevitability - I caught feelings for Damon Albarn.
As we pulled away to catch our breaths, Damon leaned back, sneaking his arms around my waist as he looked down on me. “You liked that.”
“Shut up.”
“Can’t wait for Liam to find out about this.” he grinned, playing with strands of my hair as I glared at him. I knew he was aware of the glare I was giving him, because he seemingly began to grin even wider.
“He won’t, because you’re not going to tell him.” I replied bluntly, placing my hands on his chest as I began to draw little circles over his shirt. It felt so surreal, yet so normal - there was a certain amenity shared between us proving that what was felt in the past was indeed real, and indeed reciprocated.
“Always knew you’d give in one day.” he mumbled, a devilish grin painted on his lips.
“Really?” I scoffed. “Even when the tabloids were convinced me and Gallagher were an item?” I asked, staring straight into his eyes. I noticed him frown slightly after the question left my mouth, my lips attempting to form into a smile as I broke off his smug persona.
“Well it looks like you’ve left Liam to be with me.” he grinned, our eyes connecting once again. I took his hand away from my hair to interlace it with mine, holding it close to my chest for Damon to be able to feel my heartbeat. Even though anybody could have opened their trailer door and witnessed us in such an affectionate state, none of that seemingly mattered to either one of us. Everything that had occurred between me and Damon felt so perfect, to the point that I would want somebody to come and witness the true beauty of this moment. There was a strong feeling in my chest that I wanted him to feel, to understand, that what was occurring between us truly meant something, and wasn’t just a silly little play to mess with my feelings.
“Liam’s not that bad you know.”
“I’m just joking, love, don’t worry.” he mumbled, bringing our interlaced hands to his face to allow him to kiss the back of my hand. “You wanna go get something to eat before you head on?”
“Sure, I’d love to.” I said, forcing us to detach our bodies from our embrace and walk over to one of the food stalls, hand in hand.
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Chapter One.
a/n: welcome to the first chapter of wtsgd! i’m so excited for you all to read this story and for what’s to come. please please please support content creators bc we’re doing this for free and it takes up a lot of energy to put out stories. so reblog, leave feedback, and send a message to motivate and support them. happy reading everyone <3
SERIES MASTERLIST | word count: 6.4k
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March 4, 2017
The trunk was filled with heavy boxes that were labeled with thick black sharpie, which didn’t seem to leave Luciana’s senses; and one too many suitcases filled with her many articles of clothing that she couldn’t get rid of—no matter how hard she tried—since she was too much of a hoarder and every piece of clothing seemed to have a lost memory in them that she tried very hard to think of, which only meant that it was worth keeping. 
A droplet of sweat leaked down the side of her face due to  her nonstop packing and heavy-lifting from her childhood room upstairs to her dad’s car in the driveway. It didn’t help that the sun was beaming down at her with every move like she was on center stage, in front of the spotlight, but it made much more sense for the sun to do that because that’s where she belonged: on stage. 
Moving to Brooklyn, New York from Cambridge, Massachusetts during, what felt like, the coldest but the sunniest day of March wasn’t the smartest move—to be fair, Luciana was never one to make a smart move, anyways—but it was one that needed to be done. Plus, all the lifting seemed to have warmed her up. 
Her destination, or now, home, in New York was one that she’d been anticipating for a while now. She had auditioned for the role as Kim in Miss Saigon on Broadway in November, and she’d gotten a callback in January for the role as the second Kim, meaning she would be on rotation to perform every week or two weeks, so the main Kim could rest. But she would still have to go to rehearsals and be on the side of the stage watching the show just in case she needed to jump in at the last minute. 
It wasn’t her ideal way of playing the main lead, but nonetheless, she was grateful for the opportunity, and she would take any chance that was thrown at her to not only take another step towards her dream, but also another learning opportunity to make her a better actress. 
Little Luci would’ve been so proud of the present Luci because it’d been her dream ever since she was younger, to be on stage and eventually, be on the big screen. Although she was far from completing her dream of being a face in Hollywood, this was a step that would take her to where she wanted to be in the future, and for that, she was proud of herself. 
As a child, Luci had been in various commercials; from being the kid that played with slime and had no lines but to just put on a big smile while the sticky substance ran through her small hands, to being the daughter in a car commercial with one line that said “Are we there yet?” with a groan and a face of exhaustion as if she were the one driving the car. She hoped that these commercials would have someone recognize her talent, to cast her as a Disney star, but that would require moving to California, which her parents were wary of. 
The commercials stopped when she reached middle school. Her early adolescent years consisted of an abundance of attitude and mood swings; Luci was a very tough and determined kid. Her love for acting had grown into a big balloon that was let go and on its way into the galaxy where no one could reach it—where no one could mess with her achieving her dream. 
She would always stand in front of her white wooden framed mirror—with delicately painted colorful flowers around the border—reciting lines that she heard from a television series or the films that she watched, and she would write them down in her blue notebook. Sometimes, her parents would let her search the script up if it was available online. But oftentimes, she would test and challenge her memorization, and listen to it by ear; testing her mind, and eventually, her memorization skills were immaculate by the age of eleven. 
It was perfect timing because by the time she was in middle school, she was able to snatch the roles she wanted when her school’s drama department held school plays. Her family thought that she would start to hate being on stage since school plays always ran until late evening, but being part of the productions had only enhanced her love for her talent, and it only prepared her for a quarter of what her future may look like. 
All in all, from a very young age, she always knew that she wanted to become an actress. The spotlight or the center of the camera was where she always craved to be. 
And she was finally making that dream come true. 
A black Toyota Camry pulled into the space behind the car that was filled with her belongings. Ren and Beatrice, Luci’s lovely parents, both get out of the car with a pink box of donuts—a snack for the road and for when she gets to her new apartment. 
“Ready, Lucky?” Beatrice asked, rubbing her daughter’s back. She was quite bummed to see Luci leave her childhood home, but she’s proud to see Lucky Luci chase her dreams. She was, after all, twenty-five and was bound to move out at some point, but to see it actually happen made Beatrice quite emotional. 
“Ma, please, don’t cry…” Luci frowned as Beatrice pressed her fingertips to the corners of her eyes. She wrapped her arm around her mother’s shoulder, comforting her. “You’re all coming to New York in a month, right? To watch me on stage?” Luci asked, reassuring herself that she would see her family in a different state to rescue her from her loneliness. 
Luci was an independent woman. She could do tasks by herself, go places alone, and she wouldn’t have a problem with it; she enjoyed the company of herself. But to know that at some point she might be alone—that everyone had left her behind or forgotten about her—was what scared her. She needed to know that the people who loved her unconditionally wouldn’t forget about her. 
“Of course we’re going!” Ren exclaimed with a smile that Luci was going to miss seeing everyday. “We can’t miss our baby on the Broadway stage. If we could, we’d go to every damn show that you’re in, but that would be a lot of gas, no?” 
She chuckled, nodding her head. She felt tears pricking her eyes at how supportive her parents were—they’ve always been. If she could, she would take them with her to New York, but her one bedroom apartment and their work said otherwise. 
“Now, Lucky, don’t cry.” It was Beatrice’s turn to comfort her daughter. Like any parent, when they see their child cry, it breaks their heart and they cry too. “We’re gonna see you real soon. You can always come back anytime you want. We’re just a phone call away and we’ll pick you up,” Beatrice said between sniffles. The mother and daughter were embracing so tenderly and comfortingly—enjoying every last moment together until they got to see each other again. 
“Jeez, you’re both the same—always crying!” Ren interrupted, making the two women laugh; and he was glad they found what he said amusing because he couldn’t handle the sad moment. “C’mon here, my Lulu.” Luci settled into her father’s arms, hugging him tightly. She’s always been her dad’s girl, despite having a close relationship with her mother, her relationship with her father was something that felt like home; he always knew what to say and when to say it. It helped that she was the female version of him. “You’re gonna be the best star out there, I’m sure of it. Now, I want you to have fun, alright? The fame, the fortune, the big city…it doesn’t amount to anything if you’re not having the time of your life” He comfortingly rubbed Luci’s back, holding her in a warm and tight squeeze. 
Luci smiled at her father’s words. She was always a bit hard on herself when she would mess up or forget a line or a movement that correlates to a specific line in her script. When she was younger, she would beat herself up for a sliver of a moment; she would cry into her pillow—sobs loud enough that they were heard from downstairs. Luci would think that she wouldn’t become a well-known actress just because of the minor forgetfulness her mind had presented. But Ren would gently tap on her ocean blue door, letting himself in because he knew his daughter didn’t have the energy to get up and let him in, and he would sit beside her, gently urging her to sit up with him. Once she complied, after many groans of refusals, she would be glad she did because her father looked deeply into her eyes—and it was like looking into the reflection of clear and clean water—and told her she was a star. It was only three words, but those three words reminded her to never give up and get up when she would hit the pavement of what she felt like were her fallen hopes and dreams. 
Ren would then end it with a statement of advice that had always lingered in her mind, resonating to the silent and harshful words that she tells herself. ‘Nothing will amount to anything if you’re not having the time of your life.’
A rush of gratitude settled upon her as her eyes became glossier by the seconds she was in Ren’s arms. Beatrice looked at her greatest treasures fondly, a smile appeared on her face only for it to be replaced by a look of confusion. 
“Where is that damn brother of yours? He said he was going to be here at ten!” Beatrice interrupted the sweet moment she was having with her father, making them disconnect from the hug—just as Ren did with Luci and Beatrice.  
Speaking of the devil, her dear brother was making his way towards home on the side of the street, wearing a grey sweatshirt that was stained with his sweat as his earphones were nestled in his ears, loudly playing music. He loudly sang along to some rap song, breath staggered as he rapped along with his hands. 
Nathan smiled once he stepped foot onto the driveway as he took out his earphones, seeing his family look at him vigilantly. Luci laughed, shaking her head. 
“Hey, there’s our superstar, little Ana!” Nathan opened his arms, ready to hug you but she quickly stopped him, curving her spine backwards to deny his hug. Ana had been one of the many nicknames her family had called her when she was growing up from the second half of her name, but Ana seemed to have stuck with Nathan as no one else really called her that, so it was his own personal nickname for her. 
“Ew, please, do not hug me.” Her face wrinkled in disgust from the spell of her brother’s sweat from his run. Nathan chuckled, playfully rolling his eyes before turning towards his parents. 
“Ooh, donuts-”
Beatrice slapped the back of his hand before he even got a chance to open the pink donut box. “Not until you shower and change. Lulu needs to be in Brooklyn by three!” 
“Ow, mother!” Nathan whipped his hand away from Beatrice’s burning slap, although he was just playing around and being dramatic. “But fine, alright. The star always gets what she wants, am I right?” He dropped his head towards Luci, sighing before he hurried inside the house to take a quick shower and change. 
Luci giggled, telling her parents that she would be right back to go up to her room to check if she’d gotten everything, even though she knew that she had everything, she just needed to reminisce alone for a moment. 
Her feet took her up the wooden stairs, where she, for some unknown reason, always spent her time sitting on as she leaned her back against the wall and read or drew. Nathan always found it weird of her when they were doing homework when they were younger, but it was just one of the many fun anecdotes he could tell reporters if he’s asked about their childhood. 
Pushing open her ocean blue door that she never changed because she loved the color, she was met with the emptiness of what was once her sanctuary. Despite the paint on the wall changing, the replacement of furniture, and rearrangement of her childhood room, Luci could still see the baby pink walls where she hung up various posters of her celebrity crushes when she was eight. She could still see herself walking over to her Cinderella white wooden dresser as she pulled out an inflatable microphone from her drawer before she walked over to her bed to sing her heart out with her cousin. In the corner of her room was her mirror that she painted colorful flowers along the border when she was younger, and she definitely did not want to change or get rid of it; it wasn’t difficult to stir up a memory when she was in front of that mirror because up until now, she was always reciting her lines to her own reflection until the late night. 
All of these memories that Luci held within her heart would help her ground herself—remind her where she came from. No matter where her career took her, she would always be the girl that was firstly known in her room, crying, laughing, and acting within the four baby pink walls until she was sixteen, and then it changed to an ecru white. The feeling of nostalgia clutched her chest, and for the second time today—not even noon, yet—she found herself crying. 
She silently sobbed in her sanctuary. Her chest felt tight, like her heart was grasping onto the memories, begging her to not leave, to not move on. But moving on would mean being stuck, and she didn’t want to feel stuck—she just never wanted to be in one place where the walls would slowly feel like they were closing in on her. She didn’t want to be in one place and eventually hated it, so for that, she had to move on. 
A soft knock was heard from the outside of her bedroom, making Luci turn around hastily. She found Beatrice standing in the doorway, warmly smiling at her daughter, and keeping the tears at bay because she needed the comfort of her mother more than her mother’s tears. 
“My Lucky Star…” Beatrice walked into the room, welcoming Luci into her arms. “You okay?” 
Luci deeply inhaled and exhaled as she calmed herself down from her cries. “I’m alright. It’s just hard saying goodbye to this place—to my room.”’
“Oh, Lulu. You don’t need to say goodbye. I know you’ll be coming back here soon, anyways. I know you love home too much to completely stay away.” Beatrice was subtly trying to remind Luci about her love for her hometown, for her home, but her words also were trying to remind her about that certain love for her home and to never forget that love so she doesn’t stray away because Beatrice was simply afraid Luci would never want to come back once she discovered the luxury of her career. And even though she knew her Lulu wasn’t one to forget about her family, Beatrice would never admit her fear. 
Luci sniffled, wiping her tears away as she pulled away from her mother’s embrace. “Yeah, I know. Just…doesn’t feel real that I’m leaving.” 
“Sure, you’re leaving, but you’re going off to do bigger and better things. You were never one to stay in one place, physically and mentally—you were always moving, always loved learning more. And I’ve always been so intrigued and interested in how your mind works.” 
“Ma…” The waterworks seemed to be the highlight of the move. 
“I’m serious! I’m so genuinely proud of you. You’ve been keeping your talent—and I don’t mean ‘high school plays’ talent. I mean your Broadway, Hollywood, Academy winning talent. Now, you get to showcase your light in front of thousands of people.” Beatrice always had a way of boosting Luci’s self-esteem, making her ego a tad bit more bigger than it already was. She didn’t mind if her self-esteem had skyrocketed into the galaxy of her dreams, but she always reminded Luci that being humble and kind always outweighed being obnoxious and arrogant. “Now, enough with these tears. You’ve got a road trip to New York. C’mon, now.” 
They made their way downstairs and out the door where Ren and Nathan were talking about the latest basketball game of the Celtics. The trunk was closed, and the only thing waiting was Luci herself. 
“There she is! Ready?” 
Luci took a deep breath, turning her head to look back at the pastel yellow house that had kept her safe for the past twenty-five years. From here, she knew everything was going to change. Whether it’d be for the good or if things would go downhill from here? She didn’t know; all she knew was that she was going to be doing what she loved and she was going to have the time of her life doing it. 
“Yeah, I’m ready.” 
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The state of Connecticut seemed to pass by quickly from the car as Nathan drove at a decent seventy miles per hour; the state vanished just as quickly as when they entered. 
Luci mindlessly looked out the window, thinking about everything and nothing at once as she drowned out the music playing through the speakers of the car and Nathan’s voice singing along. 
The cars passing by, the bystanders, and the locals filled the streets and highways, making her wonder what all of these people’s stories were—wondering if they lived in this city or if they were just stopping by to visit, or if they’re just going through the state to get to the one next door just as she was. Maybe she’s had an encounter or simply passed by them on the street in a world that seemed too large but small at the same time. She always pondered on whether everyone else thought the way she thought—if they wondered what her story was or the people around them. 
The world is an interesting place and there were so many intriguing people out there, making her more excited by the minute as she takes on this new adventure in her life that would be completely life changing. Luci’s going to be meeting so many new people that, she would hope, have an impact on her personal life or career. 
“Nervous?” Nathan broke the comfortable silence between them. 
Luci raised her brows and curled her lips into her mouth. “A bit.” 
He nodded, thinking for a moment. Nathan was always one to think before he spoke, and it was a quality that some people needed to learn how to do. He quickly learned that lesson when he was in high school; one of his friends, Johnny, and him were going back and forth joking around with one another. And for some odd reason, teenage boys liked to joke around about fucking everything, so Nathan had said “Yeah, I fucked your mom, what about it?” without thinking. Johnny stayed silent, the rest of their friends were waiting for his comeback, but they only received tears that glossed over his eyes before he ran off to a different part of campus, away from the lunch tables. Nathan found him behind the orchestra building with his face pressed on his kneecaps, crying. Later, he found out that Johnny’s mother had passed away before their sophomore year started and he hadn’t told anyone, which left Nathan quite speechless, but it was a lesson that he learned: to think before anything comes out of his mouth. 
“I know you’ll do great. You were born to do this, born to be on stage. Everything you do is to greater your experience and opportunities. All the mistakes you’re gonna make, which we both know you’re gonna make, they’re gonna be learning lessons for you to continue doing what you’re good at doing; the mistakes are there so you can better yourself,” he reassured, occasionally glancing at you briefly before averting his eyes back onto the highway. 
Luci smiled, never taking her eyes off her older brother. She leaned closer to the middle console, where his right arm was resting on the padded console. Hugging his arm tightly and resting her cheek on his shoulder, she accepted and appreciated his advice, his words. They made her heart fill up with so much gratitude and love, insanely grateful and happy that she had such an amazing and supportive family who always knew the right things to say when they could sense her nerves and anxieties powering through the roof. 
“You’re gonna kill it out there. This is just a step towards where you wanna go, where you actually wanna be.” 
She nodded, looking to her right as they quickly passed the ‘Welcome to New York’ sign from the state line of Connecticut and New York, and it was the sign indicating her new home. 
Nathan pulled into the apartment’s parking garage, entering in with the code that the complex gave Luci on the silver keypad as the two watched the automatic gate arm swing up to the side, and Nathan entered the parking structure, parking in one of the many spaces available. 
Luci excitedly got out of the car, rushing to the trunk where Nathan had opened it from inside the car. Unfortunately, she had forgotten to bring the hand dolly to help carry the boxes, which meant that the siblings were going to have to carry the many boxes she packed by her own hand and strength. But luckily, some of them weren’t that heavy; most of the items in the brown boxes were kitchenware and she figured she could just drag those. 
One by one, they took one box each and headed for the elevator, where it took them to her apartment floor—floor four. Luci grabbed the keys from her purse that contained two copper keys hanging on one single silver loop and a small keyless sensor, and she unlocked her navy blue door, revealing her new apartment. 
When she entered, she was met with a door across the entrance that she would use for her coats and shoes, things that she would need when she’s rushing out the door. Going through the small hallway in from the entrance, it led her to another small hallway to her left where her bedroom and guest bathroom was; and to her right, it would take her to the kitchen and living space. With four big windows with black window frames, the natural light really came in, making her place brighter for saving electricity. 
Walking in and putting the boxes against the black cabinets in the kitchen, she immediately fell in love with the space, her space. Despite already taking a tour of the apartment a few months prior to her official move in day, it felt different being there for the second time because she now knew that this place was hers. She saw it in a different light, and she was already anticipating the memories she was going to make in her new home. The place was empty; and with every step and every noise from her mouth, the room would echo, and she loved it. There was something satisfying about the echo in an empty space that was hers, like she wanted to furnish the hell out of it, but at the same time, she didn’t mind the echo. 
“This is your new home.” Nathan put an arm around Luci’s shoulder. He got a bit emotional seeing his baby sister grow up and move away from home, but he was excited for all of the experiences and memories she was going to make. Luci looked up at him, not saying anything but smiling as she was speechless. Nathan could practically feel the excitement run through her and all he did was chuckle at her speechlessness. “C’mon, let’s go get the rest of the boxes.” 
For the next fifteen minutes, Luci and Nathan hauled the boxes from the car, to the elevator, and down the hallway to her apartment. There were about four more boxes left in the trunk, and they would’ve been finished by now if they hadn’t been taking breaks. 
Nathan’s phone rang as he was sitting on the floor, leaning against the cabinets of the kitchen across from Luci who was sitting in the corner where her dining table would be. 
“Hello?” Answered Nathan. “What? Tonight? I’m in New York. I’m helping my little sister move here. Uh, okay. Sure. Bye.” He groaned, standing up. 
“Who was that?” Luci asked, nosy as she was. 
“That was one of the board members at Mass General Hospital.” Luci’s eyes widened. “They just asked me if I could come in tonight to teach and supervise the new residents.” Nathan was a general doctor working in the Emergency Room as Mass General back in Boston. He’s always wanted to teach with all the knowledge he’s stored in his brain—always wanting someone to learn a thing or two when they spoke to him, and this was his chance. 
“Holy shit, that’s amazing, Nate!” Luci stood up, excited for him.
He started to breathe a bit heavily and Luci immediately took notice; she could practically feel the nerves coming out of him, the same nerves she felt while going in for an audition. “Yeah, I actually have to leave, like, right now.” 
“Hey, hey.” She quickly stopped him from running out of the building and out of his mind. “Come here—breathe with me for a second.” She held onto his wrists gently. 
“Luci, I have to-”
He pulled away, but she tugged him back. “You’re going to drive yourself through the highway, and who knows what will happen, you might get pulled over and you won’t make it to the hospital. So, just take sixty seconds to breathe with me.” 
For the remainder of the time that they had together, they took some deep breaths. She spoke encouraging and uplifting words to him to calm down his nerves and anxieties that he seemed to drive himself over a cliff for, and it seemed to work as Nathan’s shoulder’s weren’t so tense and the grip on her hands had loosened. 
The two of them walked down to the parking garage where Nathan took down the last four boxes and placed them by the entrance of the complex. He was adamant on helping her get the last few boxes up to her apartment, but she shrugged it off, telling him that she was able to carry them and that he needed to leave because he’s most likely going to hit traffic during rush hour. 
“Call me if you need anything, okay? I mean it. I will drive here in a heartbeat.” 
“I will, I will-”
“Just not tonight,” he joked. “This is the highlight of my career.” His smile was so bright that it was like he was a little kid on Christmas again who just received a Hot Speed set from Santa. 
Luci laughed, hugging him goodbye. “And call me if you need anything too. I’ll miss seeing you everyday,” she admitted, a slight frown on her face. She thought she’d have the entire day with Nathan, but it was cut short due to his work but she wasn’t mad about that at all because she knew there'd be plenty of times when he would drive down to walk along the New York streets and see her perform. 
“I’m gonna miss you too, Ana. But I love you and I’ll see you next month!” He hurried into his car, and Luci watched him as he pulled out of the driveway, waving at the rear view mirror to say one last ‘see you later’ to his little sister. 
Walking back to the curb where all of the boxes were set, Luci picked one up to test how heavy it was and she barely made it upright without almost hurting her back, so she put the box down to take a proper breather. She decided to drag the box closer to the door of the complex—which saved her a few steps without completely dropping the box that was labeled ‘glass plates’—and pulled the handle of the door, only to find it completely locked. There was a slight panic that flew through her until she realized that she needed her keyless tag that she had to press against the pad on the wall to get inside the complex, so she blew out a sigh of relief before reaching down to her pocket for her key, and with just her luck, her keys weren’t in her pocket or with her at all. Then she started to panic again. 
Luci quickly walked out of the parking garage and to the front of the building where the leasing office was to find them closed, which was odd because it was Saturday, but apparently their servers were down so they just decided to take the entire day off. She rolled her eyes annoyingly, walking back to the garage in a fast manner because she didn’t want anyone to take her boxes, and so she figured that she could just wait until someone left the complex or arrived. She even left her phone at her place, so it wasn’t like she could call anyone to help her, but some sort of entertainment would help the time go by quicker. 
Sitting on the curb in the garage, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, and humming the melody from the Miss Saigon soundtrack, an hour goes by until she sees someone walk past the automatic gate barrier, heading towards the entrance where he opened the door with his tag. Luci sprinted towards the door, calling out for help. 
“Wait, wait!” The man turned around confusingly, taking his AirPod out of one ear. She caught up, taking deep breaths as she waved at the man. “Sorry, I’ve been out here for an hour and I completely forgot my key.” He didn’t say anything but stared at her, wondering why he’s never seen this woman before. The apartment complex really only had four floors, and he’s sure that he’s seen everyone who’s lived here. She noticed that he looked down at the boxes and back at her. “Oh, I just moved in.” He nodded more understandingly. “Do you mind holding the door for me?” 
“Sure.” Was the first thing he told her before stepping aside to hold the door. She took another deep breath, getting into the correct form so she doesn’t throw her back out, and began to lift the heavy box. He noticed her struggling, and he felt foolish for not offering his help in the first place when he noticed the four boxes on the cement. “Here, sorry, let me help with that. Get the door, yeah?” Luci’s heart flipped once she heard his deep, accented voice before she gratefully thanked him and he grabbed the box from her, replacing her hands with his and the slightest brush of their fingers made her flustered; he held the box tightly to his chest without much struggle. 
“Yeah, let me just get this one.” Luci grabbed a much lighter box that had all of her shoes, and held the door for him with her foot as he made his way inside of the building and to the elevator. He pressed the button with the arrow pointing up, and luckily, they didn’t have to wait for more than five seconds before the bell at the top chimed and the stainless steel doors opened. 
With the heavy box in his hands, he still let Luci walk in first, which made her smile and he followed in as she pressed with the bold ‘4’ printed on it. He held the box in between his chest and the other end of the bar on the wall as they waited in silence as the elevator lifted them up to her apartment floor, and she brushed past him when he lifted his arm, gesturing her to go first. 
Her front door was closed but it was unlocked, which only made sense, so she opened her door, putting the box next to the entrance and politely asking the man to put it next to the one you put down. 
“Thank you so much, really. You have no idea how much I appreciate your help.” 
“It’s no problem. I was the same when I moved here too—forgot my keys and was locked out.” He related to make her feel lighter about the situation since it was an honest mishap. 
“Did you go to the leasing office?” She asked curiously. 
“Yeah, but they were closed.” 
“They’re closed today too! It’s like they do that on purpose whenever someone new moves in.” The man chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. 
She hadn’t gotten a proper look at him since she was too distracted by trying to get into her building, but just by one real look at him, he was very attractive—probably too attractive to where she couldn’t think straight. He was wearing a pastel yellow and white striped button down that was a bit flowy and open, showing his white tank underneath that was tucked into his black skinny jeans. His tank top was low enough, exposing a patch of chest hair and his necklace that rested against his skin, in between his swallow tattoos just below his collarbones. Rings hugged his long fingers on both hands as he held two brown paper bags from Trader Joes. He was handsome, that’s for sure, and she felt like she was going to compare his beauty to all the other men that she was going to encounter in the future. 
“They’re not very good at going into work, but if you give them a call then it’s like they’re a 24/7 help center.” 
Luci nodded, chuckling. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.” 
“I’ll help you with the last boxes.” Before she was about to protest and tell him that he didn’t have to help her anymore because she was sure the last ones were light, he made his way towards the elevator and she quickly followed. 
To her surprise, one of the boxes was heavier than the other and she was glad that the man was able to carry it for her. They took the boxes up to her apartment, stacking it on top of the ones that were set down before she thanked him gratefully again. 
“I really appreciate all your help.” She smiled, leaning against the doorframe. 
“Not that I’m doubting your strength or anything, but how were you supposed to get those boxes up to your apartment?” He asked softly, not wanting to offend her by his words. 
“Oh, my brother was supposed to help me, but he had to go back home for an emergency at work.” The man nodded, seeming that was the most acceptable answer, not like he was searching if she was lying. “But thank you for your help. You’re a true lifesaver,” she said with a soft smile on her face. Her tone was a bit flirty than she wanted it to be, but it naturally came out. 
“It’s not a problem. I’ll see you around.” Luci hadn’t closed her door yet, but she found out that he was literally her neighbor on the opposite side of the wall. He didn’t even have to take two steps to get to his place—all he had to do was turn around and he was home. She smiled at the thought of that, glad that her neighbor was already so kind to her. 
As he was fumbling with his keys, he eventually got his door unlocked, and Luci was itching to ask what his name was—maybe make her first friend during her first day living in the big city. The man felt his neighbor's eyes on him, burning through the back of his head, so he turned around at the same time she spoke. 
“Uh, hey,” Luci called out. He was looking over his shoulder, pursing his lips as he raised his brows. “I was wondering if…you’d like to have dinner with me tonight? Y’know, to thank you for all your help and practically saving me while I was stranded.” She chuckled, playing with the tips of her fingers as she looked at him with hope. 
He thought the invitation was nice, but…“It’s okay, really. I, uh, have plans already tonight,” he admitted honestly because he doesn’t make a habit of being dishonest. 
Luci had some thick skin—she grew it throughout the years, and she had always been pretty confident. So many people would think that she could handle rejection well because she’s auditioned for many roles in her lifetime, and had been rejected for most of those roles. But the rejection that her neighbor handed to her so respectfully and politely was one that hit her the most, and she didn't know why. 
Curling her lips into her mouth as she felt the pang of her heart sinking into her chest, she nodded and placed a small smile onto her face. 
“Have fun tonight, then. I’ll see you around.” She grinned, hiding the slight bit of pain that she felt. He nodded, walking inside his apartment as she was in her doorway as well. “Oh, I’m Luci, by the way.” She introduced herself, feeling like she should have done that ten minutes ago, but it had slipped her mind. 
The corner of the man’s mouth turned up into a sly smirk, and she nearly felt herself fall as she gripped the door handle tightly. It was enough to make the pain in her chest disappear, and all thoughts of the rejection that she would think about for the rest of the night vanished. 
“Nice to meet you, Luci. I’m Harry.” 
With that, Harry closed his door, putting a barrier between him and Luci, who was still standing in her doorway. She let out the longest sigh of her life, feeling like she’d been constricting herself from breathing properly for the last ten minutes. 
Luci closed her door and leaned against it, looking down at the boxes that were resting by her feet. She softly smiled, her cheeks were starting to get warm, and she was fully aware that Harry was the cause of it.
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come talk to me about your thoughts and feelings! hope you all enjoyed the first chapter, thank you for reading <3 
ty to @sunflowers-styles​ for beta reading!
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enthusiasticharry · 4 years
Text
The Secrets You Keep
summary: you're a stripper, and you meet Harry off shift. what happens when he finds out?
request: hiiii would you be able to do something like stripper y/n? not where they meet at the club or anything but something natural like at a cafe or something but she keeps it from him bc she thinks he’ll leave her? then he has a guys night at the strip club and sees her perform? but he loves it and she’s a bit embarrassed? idk but that kinda vibe if ur up for it! X
word count: 8.3k words of fluff, smut and angst if you squint (and i really mean squint) also not proofread, sorry! 
masterlist    |    asks
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It never occurred to you that once you left full time education you’d end up becoming a stripper. It wasn’t the occupation you had envisioned for yourself, but it was the one that paid the best money and even though it shouldn’t be — money was the thing that you needed the most. You lived in a small, one bedroom flat that you shared with your Grandma who had no income and little pension meaning that you was the only source of income for the two of you. Obviously it was hard upon you, but your Grandma had done so much for you when you were younger that you wanted to help her as much as you possibly could. Granted, finding a job as an eighteen year old that was enough to help pay the bills and for the treatment your Grandmother needed wasn’t the easiest, and that was how you stumbled across the club and the jobs there. Your Grandma didn’t know how you received your income, and you planned to keep it that way for as long as you physically could. 
“Have you got any private dances today?” Jocelyn, also known as Sapphire amongst the people in the club, asked as she started fixing her makeup in the mirror next to yours. 
“I don’t know.” You sighed, spraying a small amount of hairspray upon your curls, “I haven’t spoken to Elliot yet.” 
“Apparently some big shot businessmen are coming in tomorrow.” Ruby adds from the other side of you, applying a lipstick that matched her name to her lips. 
“Ugh.” Sapphire groaned, “That means old men with small dicks wanking to us instead of being with their probably very lovely, loving wives at home.” 
“They lust after the taboo.” You add, applying a small amount of lipgloss to your lips, “They want what they can’t have, and brag when they get it.” 
“They have money though.” Ruby shrugged, “Haven’t had many tips this week. I’d probably do anything for a couple hundred quid tomorrow.” 
“Not anything Ruby.” You turn to look at her, shaking your head at the younger girl, “Stand your ground. Don’t let them take advantage of you.” 
“I won’t.” She smiled, “I learnt from the best.” 
“And don’t you forget it.” 
As a fresh eighteen year old, just as Ruby was now, you could’ve only hoped for someone to help you and guide you through the trails and tribulations you endured at the club. That’s why you sort of took the younger girl under your wing and helped her as much as possible. 
It wasn’t a lot. Granted, with what they did the majority of it was on their own upon the stage or in a private dance but you wanted to make sure she had small tips to help her handle herself in any situation that could occur and that she someone to talk to if she ever needed it. 
“Are you working tomorrow, Emerald?” Emerald was your stage name. 
“No.” You sigh happily, “It’s my day off.” 
“Enjoy yourself, you deserve it.” Ruby smiled. 
You certainly did. 
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The next morning, after helping your Grandma get ready and to the hospital, you make your way towards the small café you usually went to during your Grandmother’s chemo sessions. They usually lasted around three hours, and whilst you offered to stay with her, she usually forced you to leave and spend some time on your own, claiming she didn’t want you to see her at her worst.
The spring days had just started to warm up, so you dressed yourself in a summer dress you had picked up for cheap at a charity shop. You carried your tote bag with your book in over your shoulder as you pushed past the people on the street.
It wasn’t usually this busy, and looking around you saw no free tables but a few free chairs dotted around. Your favourite table, tucked away in the far right corner by the window had been taken by a man sat reading, just as you would’ve been. You toy back and forth with the idea of going to sit over there as you walk over to the counter. 
You order your usual, a peach iced tea, and wait for the kind barista to make it. Your free days, usually, landed sporadically. They normally occurred when your grandmother either had chemo or a hospital appointment and that’s only because she can sometimes be really ill after them and needed you to look after her. Even though Elliot was not a good person by any means, he understood your situation and did help as little as he could. 
“Excuse me.” The man looked up from this book at you, “Is this seat taken?” 
“Uh. . .” 
“It’s fine if it’s not!” Your quick to add, “There’s just no other seats.” 
“No.” Your smile falters, “No! I mean that the seats not taken. It’s yours.” 
“Thank you.” You drop your tote bag down on the floor, holding your hand out to the man, “I’m YN.” 
“Harry.” He shakes your outstretched hand. 
There was something oddly familiar about him, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on why. He dressed quite casually, a punny t-shirt that said something about health on it and you didn’t want to seem too weird and bend down to look at what he had on his bottom half but you suspected it was something just as interesting. 
You take your book out of your bag and place it on the table in front of you, flicking through the pages until you found the page you had left off at. 
As a child you loved to read. Your grandmother always read you a bedtime story before bed and it lead to English being your best subject at school. Whether it be the creative writing aspect, or the analytic — you were just good at it. It was your highest grade at GCSE, an A, and your highest grade at A Level, a B.
You didn’t exchange any more words with Harry the entire time you were there. Periodically you looked up at him, and somewhere deep down you hoped that he did the same for you but you couldn’t be too sure. The book that he was reading seemed interesting enough, something about watermelon, you had noticed. You had a slight suspicion that it wasn’t about watermelon but you could never be too sure you supposed. 
A whine almost escaped your lips when you realised that you had to go pick up your Grandmother and your book had just gotten interesting. That was the problem when you read, you could sit and do it for hours and not even look up. It was something so interesting to you that you could immerse yourself in a world different to the one you lived in and slip out of reality for however long and return back to normal as though nothing had happened. 
“Thank you for letting me sit here.” You smile as you pack your bag up, “Goodbye.” 
“Bye.” 
You left feeling sort of fuzzy inside. You hadn’t spoken to the man at all really, but he was kind and certainly handsome with his tousled brown hair and gentle smile. That was probably going to be the last time that you saw him, and you probably should’ve asked for his number at least but you didn’t and that was why you walked away with him laying heavy upon your mind.
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The next day, you wanted nothing more than to leave in the middle of your shift and curl up on the sofa. Instead, you were stood in a private room in the back of the club swirling your hips for a man sat upon a chair in the middle. 
“You’re fucking fit.” He moans, and you almost throw up in your mouth. 
“Thank you.” 
You move yourself so you’re hovered over his lap, twisting your hips to beat of the sultry song spilling out of the speakers. If you didn’t need the money, or have a bills to pay you certainly wouldn’t be doing this. 
“Fucking sort.” That’s when his hand drops down upon your behind, squeezing the flesh harshly. 
You stand up, flipping around so that you’re looking at him, “Hands off.” 
“Babe.” He throws his head back, “C’mon I’ve paid bags for this dance.” 
“And you pay for a dance, and the rules state no touching.” 
He holds his hands up in surrender, “I’m sorry. Won’t happen again, babe.” 
“Better not.” 
It does, and that’s when you get up and leave. He still has to pay, which is a plus but it just isn’t the best feeling. The job you do isn’t one that people necessarily respect you for, but there are rules in place to help with that. You and the other dancers within the club were human beings and deserved the rights that any other person has. 
“You okay?” Ruby presses her hand to your shoulder as you powder your under-eyes, “I heard he was touching.” 
“Yeah.” You smile at her through the mirror, “Started behind and they he just full on groped me.” 
“Men are pigs.” 
“I second that statement.” You laugh, “But you know what they’ll say.” 
“That we teased and antagonised them to do it.”
Throwing her a deadpan look, you nod. It was something that you had dealt with for the past six years of your life and even though you did hate it and wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up every time it happened — you had gotten used to it. 
“Did you have a nice day off yesterday?” 
“I did thank you.” You smile, “Read a bit. Spent some time with my Grandma.” 
“Sounds lovely.” Her face then twists into one that you can’t quite pinpoint, “You didn’t miss much here.” 
“The businessmen not up too much?” 
“No they paid well.” She nodded, “We just had to watch them wank their micropenises at us.” 
You curl your nose up at the thought, “That sounds pleasant.” 
“Totally.” She snorts. 
“Emerald. Ruby.” Elliot sticks his head into the room, “Get your asses back out there.” 
Ruby rolls her eyes and you laugh. Your job certainly wasn’t your favourite but some of the people around you made it more pleasant.
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Two weeks later you find yourself sat in the corner of the café down the road from the hospital, your book open in front of you and a peppermint tea sat upon the table in a pot. Your Grandmother’s second round of chemo was slowly coming to the end of its stint and even though you wanted nothing more than for her to be back to the epitome of health, you would miss spending time at this small café. 
“Hi.” You lift your head up to see Harry stood there, slightly breathless, “Is this seat taken?” 
“It’s yours.” You smile, watching him drop his book on the table.
This time you could see his entire outfit. A white t-shirt with some writing on that you missed, a floral shirt over the top paired with red corduroy flares. You were right the last time that you met him —he did have an amazing sense of style. You, however, bought whatever was the cheapest or on sale that seemed acceptable to wear in public. 
“How have you been?” 
“I’ve been okay.” You smile, “You?” 
“Good, thanks.” He scratches the base of his neck, “I haven’t seen you in a while.” 
“Oh.” You have to stop yourself from smiling too much, “I only come when my Grandma has an appointment and they’re usually two weeks apart.” 
“Ah.” He nods before his face curls, “I’m sorry if that seemed creepy.” 
“It didn’t.” You can’t help the butterflies that erupt within your stomach, “I just thought I wouldn’t see you again.” 
“Couldn’t let that happen.” Heat rises up your neck as he beams.
“No complaints about that from me.” 
“That’s good.” He rests his hand upon his chest, letting out a deep breath, “Thought I was punching a little over my weight.” 
“You’re not.” You cheeks hurt from smiling, “It’s cute.” 
He looks down at his book. He seemed so shy, as though he had a confidence to talk to people but once they complimented him or something to do with him it completely changed. It was intriguing. He was already nicer to you than most people you’ve met of the opposite sex in your life and you’re let to learn anything about him apart from the fact that he reads Bukowski and likes black coffee — it certainly wasn’t much to go on. 
“How long do we have until you have to go back to your Grandma?” 
“Not long.” You sigh sadly, “I’m sorry.” 
“No, I understand, it’s okay.” He flashes you a small smile, “Can I walk you back to the hospital?” 
You ponder his offer for a second, “Yeah. I’d like that.”
You walk back to the hospital brushing arms with one of the nicest people you’d ever met, and you couldn’t be happier. 
“Has your Grandma been having treatment for long?” 
“It’s her second round.” You explained, “They originally removed the tumour and it went away but it came back. They caught it quickly and she’s back in bay 11 for three hours every two weeks.” 
“I’m sorry.” He sighs, “That must’ve been tough.” 
You shrug, “She’s a fighter, I know she is.” 
“I don’t doubt she is.” He smiles, “She’s got an amazing granddaughter to stay alive for.” 
The walk to the hospital isn’t long enough in your opinion. You speak about a few things, and you learn he does music and that’s when you put two and two together and realise that he’s actually Harry Styles from One Direction. Harry wished he could’ve recorded your reaction when you realised. 
Harry had never met someone like you, and he had met a lot of people in his life. You were sweet, and kind and so gentle but also confident and held yourself in such a strong way that he couldn’t help but want to know you, the real you. 
“This is it.” You stop in front of the entrance closest to the chemo ward, “Thank you for walking me.” 
“It’s no problem.” He smiles, “I hope this doesn’t sound too weird, but can I get your number?” 
“Uh. . . yeah.” 
“Great.” He beams, “At least now I won’t have to hope you show up at the café.” 
You swear you felt your heart burst. 
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During your shift a couple of weeks later, you don’t notice your phone light up a message. You actually don’t notice at all until you arrived home that night. You had already checked on your Grandma, who was sound asleep in bed, and that’s when you allowed yourself to drop down upon the sofa with a sigh. 
Seeing an unknown number pop up on your screen at first had confused you, but once you had looked further into it, your palms started sweating. 
Hi YN. It’s Harry. I know it’s been a while but I’ve been trying to figure out what to say. I hope you and your Grandma are well. 
Your heart starts to beat faster. The message you had awaited for weeks was here and you had no idea how to act, never mind what too reply back with. The only thing that spiralled around within your mind was that he had been thinking about you. 
In your head, you imagined him pacing around in his large house trying to figure out what to send you, just like they do in the movies. You at least hoped that was what he had been doing over the past couple of weeks. 
Hi Harry! It’s lovely to hear from you, sorry it’s late. I’m okay, Grandma’s getting there. How are you? 
You throw your phone down on the sofa next to you, trying not to giggle like you did as a schoolgirl whenever you were messaging boys. You nearly cried whenever you phone ran out of credit and you’d end up having to run to the store to get a top up in the morning with your spending money and explaining to them what had happened. You were thankful that your upgrade didn’t need that. 
I’m okay. Glad to hear about your Grandma. I know this is probably really weird and totally out of the blue, but are you free this weekend? I’m leaving next week for a little while and I really want to see you before I do. 
In your head, you ignore the end of the message about him leaving and focus on the fact that he wants to see you. Harry Styles wants to see you. You hoped it was a date, everything pointed it to be a date but you didn’t want get too ahead of yourself. 
You haven’t had a boyfriend since your first year of Sixth Form, and the first date you were going on since then was going to be with Harry Styles of all people. 
If you pull some strings, work an extra long shift on Saturday and please some of Elliot’s special clients — you may be able to get Friday night off. It was a maybe, but over the next two days you could make it a yes. You hoped that you could make it a yes. 
You’ve never, in your six years of working at the club, missed any of your shifts for anything other than your Grandma suddenly falling ill, and those were on rare occasions. You certainly deserved this day off.
I’ll have to check with my boss but I think I could do Friday night? If that’s not a problem for you. 
You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from internally freaking out. 
Sounds perfect. How about I pick you up at 8? 
You wince. It wasn’t as though your were embarrassed of where you lived because you weren’t. You’ve worked hard to be able to pay for the flat and everything in it but there was something about showing it to someone who you’ve only just met and had no intention of explaining your situation to wasn’t on the top of your priority list. 
Is there any chance I could meet you somewhere? 
Of course. Where do you fancy eating? Italian? Thai? 
Italian sounds good. 
Great. I’ll send you details over. 
Thank you :) 
See you then, YN. Sweet dreams. 
Night, Harry. 
You slept well that night. 
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“I just don’t think I can spare you Friday.” Elliot sighs, “I’m sorry YN.” 
You have to stop yourself from wanting to cry. You don’t use up all your holiday days, and you work way more than you should or that you’re paid for but you don’t complain and you just get on with it. The one time you ask for a shift off, his stubborn ass says that he cant do it. 
“Please, Elliot.” You sign, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, “I just need this day off.” 
“And I need my best girl on the floor. Need the best of the best.” 
“There are plenty of other better girls than me working here.” 
He shakes his head, “You’re the favourite, YN. Need you to be there.” 
“Elliot.” You sigh, leaning forward in the uncomfortable seat you were sat in, “I’ve worked for you for six years and I’ve never asked for a day off like this before.” 
“Yeah but—”
“—and! I’ve never asked for a day off apart from going to the hospital and you know that.” 
“I couldn’t exactly say no to you—”
“I’ve worked every shift you’ve ever asked me to, covered for people when you need it.” 
“Stop it!” He holds his hand up to silence you, “Just shut up for a second.” 
You clamp your lips shut. If you didn’t need to stay on his good side to get Friday off you probably would’ve said something about how rude he was being. He’d always been rude, but he paid you and the rest of the girls so you all chose to ignore it. 
He ponders, and you know the cogs are turning within his brain as he scrolls through his laptop, typing a few things. He takes his glasses off his face and drops them dramatically down on the table in front of him. 
“Ruby will cover your shift.” 
You let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you!” 
“Don’t be thanking me too quickly.” He points his finger, “I need a favour from you.” 
“Anything. Well not anything.” 
“In a few weeks times there’s a big birthday party coming in.” He explains, “I need you to be the star of the show, do private dances and all the good things like that.” 
“Just that?” You ask, knowing that it could be a trap knowing Elliot’s track record. 
He nods, “Just that.” 
You look at him sceptically, “What’s the catch?” 
“No catch.” He holds his hands up, “A few big names are coming, that’s all. A list celebs that have asked to use the back exit.”
“That’s it?” 
“That’s it.” 
“Let me know the date and I’ll do it.” 
You stand up, happy that you’ve managed to get your shift tomorrow off and that you can go on the date you have been excited for since you met Harry and was introduced to the world with him in it. 
“Have fun at your thing Friday.” 
“Thank you. . .?” 
You don’t think you like Elliot being nice to you. 
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Friday night rolled around quickly and you were thankful for that. After helping your Grandma with her own dinner and into bed, you start getting ready. You curl your hair, brushing it out until its in what looks like effortless waves but are actually quite hard waves to achieve. You do natural makeup, something completely different to makeup you usually wear in one of your shifts. You try to keep all of your features soft, different to how you usually look on a day to day basis. You dress in a long white polka-dotted maxi skirt, paired with a thin long-sleeved jumper that would keep you warm due to the ever changing British weather. 
You had done a little bit of research on the restaurant Harry had sent you the address for and learnt that it wasn’t the most expensive restaurant ever, but one that was way out of your price range. It meant that you had to dip into the fund that you keep for occasions where you need a little extra money or you will use in the future when you eventually move out and busy your own place. 
The tube was crammed, seeing as though it was a Friday night and the majority of people were either coming home from work and stating to go out for end of the week drinks. You knew that the club would start to become heaving as the night grew and a part of you was thankful that you didn’t have to work today, and you were given a small break from the hell that is working at a strip club. 
The restaurant, when you arrived, definitely looked fancier than it had online. The bar stood against the corner wall, the right hand side of the restaurant had booths covering the walls whilst stand alone tables scattered around the rest of the room.
You were surprised when you saw Harry, already sat at the booth in the far right corner. He lifted his hand up in an awkward sort of wave and you couldn’t help but beam at him. He had a shirt, an expensive looking white shirt with a yellow and blue jumper over the top. You hand felt so excited to see someone since when your Grandma went into hospital for her tumour being removed and you couldn’t see her for a few days. 
“YN.” He sighs, “Hi.” 
“Hi.” You smile, slipping into the booth across from him. 
“Was starting to think you wasn’t going to show up.” 
“I’m sorry.” You tuck your hair behind your ear, “I underestimated how bust the tube was going to be.” 
You can tell he wants to pry but instead he says, “It’s okay.” 
His nails were painted yellow, a few of them painted lilac as well. There was something so simple about his nails that you just loved, and if it wasn’t weird you probably would’ve stared at them for way too long for it to be acceptable. You knew he had tattoos, and you could see the cross on his hand and the the anchor peaking out from underneath his shirt and you wanted to see more. 
“I like your nails.” You smile, running your own fingers over your own nails underneath the table. 
“Thanks.” A blush creeps up his neck, “I did them last night. Sort of calmed me down, I was quite nervous.” 
“Nervous for what?” 
“This.” He nods, “I haven’t been as nervous for a date in a long time.” 
“You don’t have to be nervous.” 
In your twenty four years of living, you’ve never had someone say that they were nervous to see you. You’ve been nervous to see and do many things in your life and you hoped that somewhere along the line it would’ve been the same for somebody else and yourself but you had the slight suspicion that wasn’t the case. Hearing those words out loud, coming from someone who you’d never expect it too was special, and you were going to keep that for as long as you physically could. 
“I did.” He looks down at the table briefly, “I’ve never liked a girl as much as I like you before.” 
“You don’t really know me.” 
“I’d like to get to know you.” 
That’s what you do. For the rest of the date you don’t stop talking. Even though you’re starving and could eat your fist, it takes you the longest you’ve ever taken to eat your food because of how much you spend it talking. 
You’re just about to dig in to your desert when your body physically halts, “Why didn’t you want me to pick you up?” 
“I, uh, I—”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t what to! I know I can be pretty invasive sometimes.” 
“No, it’s fine!” You take a sip of your drink to swallow down the dryness within your throat, “I don’t live in the nicest building, or in the nicest area and I guess I was embarrassed.” 
“You don’t have to be embarrassed.” 
“But I was.” You drop your eyes to the plate in front of you, “I know I shouldn’t have been and that it was stupid but I just didn’t want you judge me before you truly knew me because of where I live.” 
“I hope you know now that I wouldn’t have done that.” 
“I do.” 
You let Harry drive you home. Even though you would never admit it to his face just yet, you really liked him. He was kind, sweet and funny and everything you could ever want in your person. You haven’t said this in a long time but you love the person you are around him and you wouldn’t change it for the world if you didn’t have to. 
He stops in the car park outside the building of flats you live in and you can tell he’s thinking deeply about something but you try to not concentrate on that too much. 
“I would invite you up.” You laugh, “But I don’t think the sofa in the middle of my Grandma’s flat whilst she snores in the next room is the most romantic.” 
He scrunches up his nose, “I can’t say that it is.” 
“I’m sorry.” You drop your head to look at your hands that are tested on your knees, “I really wish I could offer you something. Anything.”
“It’s okay, YN.” He uses his finger to move your head up so that you’re looking at him, “I don’t expect anything from you. I hope you know that.” 
“I know.” 
He hesitates for a moment, and you can feel the finger that was rested upon your chin move upwards so that its upon your cheek. You flicker your eyes closed and just mask in the feeling of his touch against your cheek. 
“Can I kiss you?” He asks. 
You eyes open as you nod your head, letting out a shaky breath at the sheer surprise you feel at his words.
“Want your words, darling.” 
“Please kiss me.”  
You close your eyes again and you feel his lips touch yours. It's light at first, but you can’t contain yourself and you end up pushing closer to him, relishing in the feeling of his lips upon yours. Your fingertips grip the collar of his shirt, trying to pull him closer without hurting himself too much on the centre console. Even though you both don’t want to, you pull away as you start to loose breath. 
“You okay?” Your chest heaves up and down as he speaks. 
“Never been better.” You sigh, resting your forehead against his. 
“Good.” 
You kiss again, this time its more passionate and you can’t help but let out a small whine as he pulls away. The smug look on his face after hearing that sound was enough to send your stomach doing flips. 
You really didn’t want to do this, but you had too: “I have to go.” 
“It’s okay.” He smiles, “I understand.” 
“Okay.” You reach for the door handle. 
“I have to go away for a bit.” He sighs, “I’m writing some music over in America but when I get back, do you want to maybe go on another date?” 
“I’d love to.” 
He presses one last kiss to your lips and you leave the car, muttering a small, “Bye.” 
You feel giddy. As though you’re sixteen again and just come back from your first date with your first boyfriend. It was something you hadn’t felt in a long time and in all honesty, you had no idea how to handle those feelings. You certainly wouldn’t admit that you screamed quietly into your pillow in excitement that night. 
You couldn’t wait for him to return home. 
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Two weeks. Harry was away for two weeks and even though you had only kissed him once, twice if you actually count how many kisses there were, you missed him more than words could explain. You weren’t one to usually message first, so you did end up waiting until Harry had a spare moment to message you which wasn’t as often as you would’ve liked but you couldn’t complain. 
You almost felt as though you had been drip fed this new life with Harry in, only to have it taken away quicker than you could blink. It wasn’t forever, and that was probably the thing keeping you sane. This had all happened in such a short amount of time but you wouldn’t change it for the world. 
The only thing that limited how far you could take this was your job. 
Harry had obviously been curious and during a text conversation in the first week of his week being away — he asked what you did. After having a small freak out you decided to say that you worked in a bar. It was a small, white lie and you hated yourself for it but telling him that you were a stripper just didn’t feel like the best thing to do at that time. 
You just weren’t ready to tell him, and that was totally okay. 
Speaking of your work, tonight was the night of the big party that Elliot made sure you could come to. The club had held celebrity parties before, so you weren’t entirely nervous but every time someone mentioned it you could feel your heart speeding up slightly. 
“Emerald.” You turn to look at Elliot who’s trudging towards you, a bag in hand, “Here’s your new outfit for tonight.” 
“New? I thought I’d just wear the one for special occasions.” 
“This is a special, special occasion Emerald.” He dropped the bag down in front of you, “Wear this.” 
Taking the material out of the bag, your mouth dropped open at the sight of the emerald green lingerie in your hands. It was delicate lace that you feared you’d rip if you weren’t too careful. Putting it on, your breasts slightly spilled over the lace, and whilst your front was covered, the thong back of the lingerie left your ass on full display. It was beautiful, you couldn’t dismiss that but you just hadn’t ever worn something so skimpy before. You pulled your black silk robe over your shoulders, fastened your black heels onto your feet and made your way towards the side of the stage. 
The skimpiness of the new lingerie did send more butterflies to the pit of your stomach than you were originally hoping for but it was only another hurdle for you to get over which you knew you’d be able to do. 
You heard the music start to play, you slipped your hand through the gap in the curtain and opened it, revealing yourself to the room. 
Here goes nothing, you mumble to yourself. 
Harry’s jaw dropped at the sight of you on the stage. It certainly wasn’t his usual scene, a strip club, but it was a friend of a friends birthday and he had kindly been invited and he wasn’t about to turn it down. He wasn’t in the band anymore, and certainly didn’t have to hide that he went to places like this anymore, even though they weren’t his favourite. 
He couldn’t bare his eyes off of you. The way your body moved to the rhythm of the song, your darkly manicured nails pushed the robe of your shoulders, exposing the delicate lingerie you were wearing. Harry would be lying if he said that his cock didn’t start to stir at the sight. 
You. The girl who he thought spent her days reading, and looking after Grandma had a secret persona that he only wanted to explore more. 
“My word.” One of the men in the group spoke, loudly so that everyone could hear him, “She’s fit as fuck.” 
“To get my hands on her.” 
Harry clenches his jaw, and his fist that rested on the arm of his chair. If he wasn’t in a very public place where people could record him, he’d give that man a piece of his mind. He probably would but he’d do it when nobody was around so the man could truly understand what he was saying to him. 
“Do you think I could get a dance with her?” The birthday boy asked. 
“It’s your birthday.” The dickhead with no morals spoke, “She might give you something special as a present.” 
“The rules say no touching.” The words slip out of Harry’s mouth before he can stop them, “So I highly doubt that.” 
“I’m sure you’d be saying something different if you were in his position, Styles.” 
Harry rolled his eyes and focused his attention back on the stage, watching as you seductively bent down to pick up some of the tips that had been thrown on the bottom of the stage. The song was slowly finishing and Harry couldn’t help but feel a little bit of disappointment bubbling within him.
Harry watched your lean legs as you strutted towards the side of the stage, flicking the long wig on your head over your shoulder, seductively running your tongue over your bottom lip as you pulled the material of the lingerie down from your breasts. 
Harry bit his lip, his leg bounced, he ran his hand up and down his thigh. He tried to do everything in his power to distract himself from the rousing within his trousers but he just couldn’t do it. The flimsy material dropped to the floor, your red painted lips curled up into a smirk and you made your way behind the curtain, not showing any of your truly bare skin. 
If you hadn’t been imprinted on his brain before, you certainly were now.
You could hear the grunts and groans of happiness, and a few cheers whilst on stage but the lights were so bright that you couldn’t see anything past the first row or so. The tips you had received were good, and you were pleased about that. 
You received your robe and bra back from the stage and pulled them back onto your body. Your solo dance was always a hit for Elliot, and you supposed that was why he’s kept you on for so long and if you were honest, they were the easiest to do. Private dances always made you too uncomfortable, and in the six years you’ve worked there there had only been a handful of people that made you feel comfortable when it came to private dances. 
“Emerald.” Elliot walks in smiling and you assume everything is swell on the floor, “They fucking love you.” 
You nod your head, muttering a small and awkward, “Thank you.” 
He hums, “You’ve been requested for a private dance, and he’s promised to pay you accordingly.” 
“Really?” 
Another hum, “Room Two. I think he’s already there.” 
“Thanks.” 
He leaves the room, a bounce in his step. You suppose that this is a good thing and he’ll finally get off your back for the time you took off for the date with Harry. You at least hoped. 
You checked yourself. You made sure your makeup still looked flawless, your breasts sat perfectly within the material and your arse looked good. You brush through the wig once and make your way towards room two, the smaller of the three private dance rooms which helped it be more intimate. 
You smiled at the bouncer at the door, Gerry, a man who looked as though he could kill someone with a single punch but was actually a massive teddy bear. He was good at his job of keeping everyone safe and making sure that the bad eggs that came in left just as quickly. 
Watching the door slowly open, Harry felt his heart stop. He had been pacing up and down the room ever since he had walked in, and only just stopped when he heard the creek of the door. He couldn’t believe that you were in front of him, and you certainly couldn’t believe that he was in front of you either. 
“YN. . .” He sounded breathless. 
“Harry?” He could see your chest rising and falling at a quick pace, “What? How? I thought you were in America.” 
He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “I got back last night.” 
“Why are you here?” He can hear the lump in your throat as you speak, your eyes glossing over. 
“A Birthday party.” 
“Yours?” 
“No!” He’s quick to interrupt, “A friend of a friend. It’s not mine. Mine’s in February, and I certainly don’t think I’ll be having my party here. Not that there’s anything wrong with here! It’s lovely! You’re lovely! I’m rambling.” 
He was so gosh darn cute and if you weren’t in the middle of a break down, you probably would’ve laughed or at least reacted to his little word vomit. It was probably the quickest you’d ever heard him talk, not that it was hard. 
After a few minutes of contemplating what to say, you sigh, “I’m sorry.” 
His voice is soft, his features falling, “What are you sorry for?” 
“Lying to you.” You drop your gaze to the floor, trying to suppress the tears, “I didn’t want to.” 
“Hey, hey.” He walks over to you, placing his finger underneath your chin just like he had done in the car weeks ago, “No need to get upset, I’m not.” 
“You should be.” You bottom lip quivers, “I lied to you and I had no intention to retract that just yet.” 
“YN.” He rests his palms on your cheeks, “I’m not angry. I’m not upset. I just want to know why.”
“I was scared.” You admit, trying to do anything but look up at him, “I didn’t know what you’d think or if you’d change your mind.” 
“Change my mind about what?” 
“Wanting too, you know. . .?” 
He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t. There’s no reason for me to.” 
“I’m a stripper Harry, it gives you full reason to not want to be associated with me.” You lift your hand to wipe your under-eye. 
“I’m not judging you, YN, I said I wouldn’t.” 
“I wouldn’t be upset if you did.” 
“YN.” His voice is stern, more so than it had been, “I don’t care that you’re a stripper.” 
“You don’t.” 
“No.” He smiles, “I don’t.” 
“Fuck.” You let out a breath of relief, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” 
“I don’t mind.” He shrugs, “If you didn’t want to, you didn’t have to.” 
You had never met someone like him, and no matter how many times he surprised you that was just fact. Granted, you hadn’t had time to date anyone with looking after your Grandma but another reason you didn’t was because of what they would think of you. 
You knew that not everyone would be was understanding and lovely as Harry had been, and that was just because of the lovely person he was inside and out. That was the reason you didn’t tell him, because even though you had an inclination that he was accepting but you didn’t know whether that was just a façade or he was like that in real life. You loved that he was like that in real life. 
“Can I be honest?” You nod, “I enjoyed it.” 
You bite your lip to suppress the smile that threatened to cross your lips, “You did?” 
He hums, beaming a smile at you. 
“If you wouldn’t mind.” The corner of his lips tugs upwards, “I’d still love to get that private dance.”
You roll your eyes and thwack his shoulder playfully, “If you must.” 
“I’ll wait for you.” He nods, “Until your shift is over, if you want.” 
“Please.” 
“I’ll see you then.” 
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You hadn’t even made it completely into Harry’s house before his lips were on yours. He pushed you up against his front door before he’d even shut it properly, his lips falling upon yours with a hunger you hadn’t felt since you last kissed him. 
Maybe it was his hands rested upon the small of your back, your fingers threading through the curls at the nape of his neck. 
“Can I offer you a drink?” He smirks against your lips. 
“Not the priority.” You reply, not bringing your lips away from his. 
“Noted.” He places a kiss to your jaw, “Upstairs?” 
“Upstairs.” 
You follow him up the stairs, your hand rested firmly in his. You’re too distracted by the man in front of you to take any notice of the house or where you were going. 
Harry had kept true to his word and waited for you. You secretly wished that you could have recorded the group’s reaction as you walked towards him, a small smile on your face. After bidding them goodbye, the two of you jumped in a taxi that Harry had ordered and made your way to his house, or what you expected to be his house and you weren’t disappointed. 
The second you step into the plushly decorated room, you’re kissing again. His hands slide down to rest upon curve of your ass, his ring-clad fingers immediately squeezing the flesh. You groan lightly into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip through her parted lips. You grip his bicep as he leads your backwards into the room, your calves hitting the bed as he does so. 
Your lips part, you fall back onto the bed. You look up at him through your eyelashes, your fingertips reaching to pull the shirt he was wearing over his head. You almost swoon there and then at the sight of the tattoos littering his skin. You lean forward and place a kiss on his lower stomach, just before his happy trail that slips into the band of his trousers. 
You bite your lip, grinning up at him. 
“What are you planning?” 
“I don’t know.” You shrug, “What do you want me to be planning?” 
He groans, “Anything at this point.”
You reach forward, taking the button of his trousers in your fingers. You look up, “Is this okay?” 
“More than okay, baby.” 
You unbutton his trousers, wrapping your finger in the waistband and pulling them down. You can already see the tent in his boxers. You wondered how long he had been like this, you wondered if it had been since your dances. 
You blush slightly as you hook your fingers now into the waistband of his boxers, looking up at him. You can’t handle the look on his face, the slight blush but the boyish grin mixed with his curls that had fallen forward upon his forehead. You pull the fabric down, exposing his hard cock. You watch as it hits his stomach briefly, the tip swollen. You lift your hand up, wrapping it around him before giving him a few pumps. His stomach quivers as you do so, a groan escaping him as you wrap your lips around his tip. His eyes flutter closed as you start to bob your head, his fingers reaching forward to grab your hair into a ponytail. 
“Fuck baby.” His hips involuntarily buck forward. You sink further down, going as far as you could. 
Harry couldn’t believe how good he felt. It had been a while since he had been with someone, and it was worth the wait. You pulled away too soon in his opinion, but the sight of you, all teary eyed and sloppy sent his mind spiralling. 
“God.” He bent down and wrapped his arms around your thighs, lifting you up so he could move you further up the bed, “You’re fucking killing me here.” 
“Good.” You giggle. 
He’s quick to remove your shirt, allowing you to pull your jeans down at the same time. He didn’t expect you to still be in the lingerie from earlier, and if it was physically possible, he swore his cock hardened even more. 
“Fuck me.” 
He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours again as his fingers fumble with the latch of your bra. You bite your bottom lip as he wraps his around your nipple, flicking it with his tongue. He uses his hand to knead the other one. You can’t help but grind your hips forwards, a feeling bubbling deep in the pit of your stomach that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 
“Harry.” You moan, withering under his touch. 
He kisses down from your lips, to your jaw, down your neck until he’s littering them all the way to the band of your underwear. 
“Is this okay?” 
“More than okay.” You whine as he lets out a breath upon the thin material. 
He pulls your underwear down, teasing you by placing kisses across your thighs and pubic bone. He’s so close, yet so far from the place that you need him the most. He licks a stripe across your centre, until he wraps his lips around your clit. You can’t help the moans that escape your parted lips as he nibbles and flicks your sensitive nub, her thighs starting to shake as he coaxes her closer and closer to her orgasm. 
“Don’t stop.” You thread your fingers through his hair, “God! Harry.” 
He pulls away, and you let out a shaky breath as he does so. 
“No fair.” You whine. 
“Life isn’t.” 
“Just shut up and get a condom.” He does as you request, placing a small peck to your lips as he reached over to grab a condom from the drawer beside the bed. 
You watch as he rips the packet open with his teeth, pulling the rubber down his length. He presses another kiss to your lips, catching her eyesight once more.
“Are you sure?” 
“More than okay.” 
He hovers over you, rubbing his tip up and down your wet folds to coax a moan out of your lips. He groans into your shoulder as he pushes in, biting down briefly to suppress the sound. 
“Don’t.” You moan, scratching your nails down his back as he starts to thrust in and out of you, “Let me hear you.” 
“Fuck.” You squeeze him slightly, “Do that again.” 
He speeds up, catching your lips as your hips meeting quicker, the only sound in the room being your skin slapping each others. You slip one of your hands between the two of you, your nimble fingers rubbing your clit. 
“Where have you been all my life?” You can’t help the pleasurable giggle that escapes your lips. 
“Feel so good, H.” 
After a few more thrusts, a couple more circles of her clit and she’s comes around his cock, squeezing him tightly as she did so. 
“Fuck, shit, oh god.” 
He continues to thrust in and out of you, coaxing you through your orgasm and towards his. He seems to go deeper and deeper until he’s spilling inside the condom, his moans louder than any you had heard before. 
“God.” He collapses on top of you, taking a few seconds to collect himself and let you collect yourself, “Haven’t felt like that in a long time.” 
“Glad I could be of some assistance.” You push the hair that had matted to your face off. 
“You should keep secrets from me more often.’ 
“I’m never doing that again.” 
“Good.” He pecks your lips. 
904 notes · View notes
scandeniall · 3 years
Text
falling in love
Pairing: sakusa x reader
Warnings: none for once ??? Usual college/aged up
A/n: Yeah it’s almost 3am and I just soewed this out. Idk if it even makes sense but I wanna be in luv with him lol. Also; the references to no limit to you (bc even months later it’s still top 3 one of my fav things I’ve ever written)
Falling in love with sakusa is slow and steady. Its weeks of being an acquaintance and friend of a friend. You were friendly enough, considerate of his space and that he wasn’t the most outgoing guy in the world. Paying attention when he made his way into the conversation as you all sat at a group dinner. It’s the not shoving your social media in his face unlike other people trying to get a highly sought after athlete to follow them.
It’s months of getting to know one another as friends ignoring the tiniest spark whenever you two would meet up for lunch. So tiny, it could’ve been a hallucination. Getting his number one night as the two of you found yourselves outside of a party (one he’d been forced to go to and wanted nothing more than to leave), the rest of your friends having the time of their lives on the dance floor. At that point he’d watched you and got aquatinted enough to know that you were relatively genuine. He’d detected no ulterior motive. Late night texts were his thing. After a busy day of classes and practice, where he’d remembered you’d texted a joke the day before. He’d shoot a quick apology for his poor conversation and offer his own meme as consolidation.
It was just over a year of knowing one another that it’s the first time as friends he felt nervous to hang out with you and couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. It wasn’t a date by any means, just a mutual friend’s birthday dinner. He’d offered to pick you up as an apology for his horrible texting one week in particular citing that it was on the way. It was the first time you’d ridden in a car just the two of you and the way you offered a breathless greeting and apology for taking so long to come out (thus putting you two behind schedule, something that had garnered the tiniest bit of annoyance) had his own breath caught in his throat. He’s not even sure he uttered any real words when you’d complimented him.
It was at the end of the night, seeing you delirious with exhaustion yet as happy as ever, finally having a break from the reality of classes that his crush might’ve started. Your insistence that he texted you when he made it back home safe and the fact that you even stayed up to make sure he did stirred something inside of him.
It was something he’d pushed down. ‘It was only because of the atmosphere’ is what he tried telling himself. Yet he couldn’t shake the way he actually enjoyed hanging out with you in a way that was different from hanging out with Komori or his teammates out of obligation. At some point the two of you began studying together and that unveiled a new layer of yourselves to one another.
You learned that he needed nearly complete silence to study and he had to force himself to not focus on the tiniest muffle coming from your earbuds. He learned that when you began to stress to got extremely fidgety and would have to shoot you a look whenever you clicked your pen one too many times. Sometimes you’d have to break from the libraries harsh fluorescent lighting because he worked best there on the quiet floor. The compromises you made as friends in even school were because there was something oddly comforting about the presence of one another when studying. For you, it was how studying with him actually forced you to be productive and not get distracted like you’d do with your own friends. For him, it was the sheer comfort of having someone there, someone who didn’t try and talk with him and ultimately let him be.
It was early into your third year of college when he finally asked you out. At this point you’d been friends for nearly two years and sitting on feelings for at least a year. It was a simple date, takeout from a place the two of you mutually agreed on and a movie at his place. A clean spot for his first date with you. The date had been nothing special but you’d gotten to truly witness first hand just how meticulous his cleaning habits were in his own personal space.
Of course in the time you’d known him, you’d seen his cleanly nature in action. It’d manifested itself in the the mask he frequently wore and the hand sanitizer he carried often. You’d always noticed the way he glanced at public tables and admired the fact that he was never too shy to ask for a different one at a restaurant when it was obvious that it had hardly been cleaned in between guests.
His desire to immediately wash his dishes, and wipe down the table post dinner caused him to offer you an apology yet you didn’t care. The way you just wordlessly helped him confirmed that his crush was indeed real. When it got chilly, you didn’t feel obligated to cuddle up for warmth and even gratefully accepted the blanket he offered you, separate from his own.
In the nearly two years you’d known Sakusa, neither of you had ever initiated any sort of physical contact. Yes there was the occasional glance of one another’s shoulders to show the other something, but it’d always been platonic. That first date ended with the first of many hugs and a cautious look asking for permission to kiss his cheek.
That first date quickly turned into a second and third and fourth and fifth, the two of you sharing your first kiss sometime between the third and fourth. Itd been after one of his games, one your school had won. You’d waited up for him, the promise of boba on you if he won. Not that he really wanted it, but more so felt drawn to hang out with you. “We’re gonna win”
The kiss was quick and what others would have attributed to being “a moment.” It wasn’t unusual for silence to envelop the two of you. You’d been privy to many comfortable ones after learning to gauge when sakusa needed a moment to cool off from conversation. As the two of you just walked from the shop, drinks in hand and back toward campus he’d paused and asked to try something. Neither of you knew it, but inside both of your nerves were going crazy. The slightest shaking lasted the remainder of your time together unsure if the kiss really happened or if you’d just imagined it.
It’d been two months of dating exclusively before you two became an official couple. The kisses from there became more frequent but for some reason there was the hesitation to jump into anything official. So instead, the two of you spent that time getting to know one another in purely a romantic context.
At some point you’d joked asking when he was going to officially become your boyfriend.
“Do you really want me to?” Itd been a thought that had been at the front of his mind lately. He’d been trying to find the right time to ask as well, getting annoyed at the questions his teammates would ask about you in the locker room. He watched you intently analyzing your reaction to his words as your amused look turned serious than softened before you indicated that you really did. And so he asked and it became official.
It was the way that even after the honeymoon stage had ended that he still felt drawn to you. Even when you bickered about your room not being clean [enough] when he came over or about your annoying own clicking habit, neither of you wanted to bicker with anyone else. Even during your first serious argument that resulted in you admitting that you loved him his heart both dropped and swelled. He’d been the one to fuck up that time, the argument being quite heavy. That night he left with a kiss on your temple and a promise of seeing you soon.
It was the way that the days the two of you didn’t speak felt like hell to him. He was more irritable towards others and found himself stress cleaning whenever he could (something his teammates witnessed as he wiped down his locker for the 50th time in a span of 5 minutes). The usually cautious player may not have performed differently to outsiders, but when he didn’t see you in the crowd during the home game he was off.
Making up felt like a weight had lifted off his heart. He’d swallowed his pride and reached out first. Returning those 3 words for the first time had him feeling like he was on cloud nine.
From then the love between you and Kiyoomi continued to grow. It was never perfect, with the two of you always having something something to work on. But, it was you.
The day he’d revealed to you that he’d signed to MSBY post college was one of his favorite moments. The two of you had been at his hanging out when he’d given you the unmarked envelope. He’d watched your face go from confused to realization to excitement as you read aloud “we welcome your commitment to MSBY Black Jackals-.” It was one of those times he didn’t mind the camera you’d shoved in his face insisting that you were filming a once in a lifetime moment. He’d found himself smiling at the kisses your scattered over his face, ignoring what usually would’ve made him grimace in disgust for the love that overpowered it.
He’d considered the next step in your relationship for a while the question of asking you to move in with him ultimately flowing out of him at graduation. It was the start of a new journey and he wanted you by his side.
Moving in was no easy feat. Learning to live with another person and their habits got to the two of you at times but you were determined to stick it out. Once the initial struggles faded, and you’d gotten into the swing of things he was met with a different kind of love. The love of a domestic life with you. Love was never easy, and potentially being harder when you were young. Yet you’d waited it through. Slowly built a friendship and the foundation of something great. Sakusa has no intentions in proposing anytime soon, yet knew for a fact that he wanted you and you want him.
a/n: i honestly coulve kept going but uh i gotta go to bed and this shit is long nough
165 notes · View notes
pinkanonwrites · 3 years
Note
Headcanons for aizawa, hizashi and toshinori (separate pls) all going out one night after work for drinks and they beforehand invited their coworker/crush to join but she declines bc she ends up coincidentally having a music gig (that she doesn't tell anyone about) at the same pub that they head to so when she steps up on stage singing and playing bass (think mitski's 'Francis forever) the guys freak a bit. Thanks in advance
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I combined these two because they’re so similar, but this is such a cute idea! I hope I can do it justice!
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‘I don’t know what to do without you.’
You couldn’t lie, it didn’t feel great having to turn him down. Were you imagining the disappointment in his face when you told him you were busy, or was it really there?
‘I don’t know where to put my hands.’
But gigs didn’t come around often, especially in your new line of work. And, well... School may be your career, but music was your passion. And when you got the call back for a Friday night at the bar when their usual artist cancelled? You had to take it. It was like divine intervention.
‘I’ve been trying just to lay my head down
But I’m writing this at 3am.’
But with the stage lights shining in your eyes and all your attention on keeping your voice steady and your hands moving, you didn’t see him curled up with your coworkers at a table near the back...
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Aizawa Shouta
Wow. Wow.
Aizawa could only hope his amazement wasn’t as obviously written on his face as it felt like it was burning in his chest.
He never knew you could sing. Had you even mentioned it before? Not to mention playing the bass. He understood the desire to keep parts of your personal life separate from your work life, but god did he wish he got to see this side of you long ago.
When the tip jar rattled around to their table he didn’t hesitate to tip a little more generously than he would have for another performer. It wasn’t like you’d know that extra twenty was from him, anyway.
Though he scowled very obviously at the more than one hastily-scribbled phone numbers on folded napkins that other patrons had slipped into the jar before him. How crass. As if they could ever garner your attention that way.
I don’t think he’d approach you that night though. He’s already a little tipsy and too amazed and his guard was down a little further than he would’ve liked before you stepped out on stage and completely turned his world on its ear again, as you so often seem to do.
No, he would save that for Monday. Tonight he was going to sip his beer and sway almost unnoticeably to the sound of your voice, and pretend for just a minute that your words were directed at him.
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Hizashi Yamada
You’d know Hizashi was there after your first song was done, because he’d be cheering and screaming your name so loud you couldn’t help but notice.
He’s equal parts impressed and playfully offended. Why didn’t you tell him before? The two of you could’ve been jamming out together since the day you met if only you’d mentioned it!
When you mention that you’re going to take a quick break, Hizashi is already making a beeline for the edge of the stage, waiting to bombard you with a wave of compliments.
He’ll definitely appoint himself as your new song test subject. Worried if a new song you’re learning fits your voice? Having trouble putting together a setlist? Just run it by Hizashi and he’ll gladly help you out and hype you up at the same time.
Be ready for him to become a staple at your gigs, because he’s gonna hit every one he can. Maybe he’ll even flex his heroic influence a bit to help get you into some pretty swanky clubs. Anything for his favorite rockstar.~
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Toshinori Yagi
Keeping a low profile is usually Toshinori’s preference, but even still he has to resist the urge to go right up and compliment you in person when he hears you playing for the first time.
He doesn’t want your performance to be overshadowed by the fact that “Former Number One Hero All Might!” is here in the audience, after all. You’ve probably worked very hard to be as good a performer as you are now, and he doesn’t want to take the limelight you rightfully deserve.
Later in the evening, when your set has wound down and you’re packing up your instrument, however, then he’ll step in. Once the crowd has mostly dispersed, of course.
“I never would have expected this to be why you couldn’t join us tonight. You never fail to impress.”
Insists on helping you pack up, even carrying your amp out to your car for you. He’ll make idle chatter about how you started playing the bass, and he’ll be very generous with his compliments.
“I’d be delighted to hear you perform again, if you’d have me. Give me a call the next time you’re playing and I’ll be there.”
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takara-kaneko · 4 years
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I know I request a lot now so take your time. It could you do a part 2 to the mc leaving one? Good or bad doesnt matter, just some closure about if they’re capable of changing and get mc back? Maybe building up mcs confidence again bc now they’re hesitant to start planning parties again.
Surprisingly, I’m still here! Pandemic life has been really getting to me, haha, but I am still here! I’ve been working on this fic for a while, and it has become much larger than I had first anticipated, but I hope that you enjoy it nonetheless!  If you haven’t read the first story, then click Here!! 
Let Me Go Part 2 (Good End) 
Zen 🎭
He was in his dressing room, changing out of the costume of his most recent character. The performance was a success, and he had been receiving so many compliments by the audience and the cast alike. But he didn’t really feel happy. Hell, he hadn’t been happy for a long time now. Not since MC left. 
Without thinking, he pulled out his phone and unlocked it. Staring at back him was her contact photo, with an empty text bar below. Zen had written up so many drafts, each giving a different apology, and each begging for forgiveness. But he never sent them to her. Not until everything within the RFA was fixed; not until he had fixed everything. 
It has taken some hard work, but he was finally believing that things were the way they should be. The RFA was making strides coping with their loss of Rika. Many, himself included, were really starting to move on. Maybe it was time for him to message. 
With bated breath, he began typing. “I don’t know if this is too late, but I’m sorry. For everything. I don’t expect your forgiveness, nor do I deserve it… I’m just… trying to repair what I’ve done. I’m trying to fix me. MC, I love you, more than I can express in a text. I hope you know that.”
His finger hovered over the ‘send’ button. It had been months, did she really want to get something from him now? Would she even care, or has she already gotten over him? Zen shook his head, trying to ignore his thoughts. With nothing to lose, he sent it. As it was delivered, he heard a chime from outside his door, followed by a soft curse.
Curious, Zen approached the door and opened it. There was no one in front of him, but as he looked out, he saw a figure walking away from him. A figure that had haunted his thoughts and riddled his dreams. Zen stepped forward a few steps and reached out to her, a painful expression painting his face. 
“MC! MC, wait...” 
She stopped but doesn’t turn back to him. “I watched the show…” He strained to hear her, she was almost whispering, “You were really good, Zen.” 
Zen had to restrain himself from approaching her. From wrapping her in his arms and refuse to let her go ever again. But he couldn’t do that to her, she had every right to leave him and never return.
“I didn’t know you were going to watch it. I could’ve gotten you tickets.” He didn’t really know what to say. He was being awkward, Zen knew he was, but so long as she continued to talk to him, he couldn’t ask for anything more. 
MC still didn’t move, almost frozen where she stood. “I didn’t know I was either. A friend of mine got tickets and she didn’t tell me where we were going until I saw you on stage. And I…” Turning her head towards him, he could see the tears falling from her eyes. “...I realized how much I’ve really missed you, Hyun.” 
There wasn’t even a moment to think before Zen was in front of her, wiping away the tears on MC’s face. “Jagi, please don’t cry, I don’t deserve your tears. I’m the one who caused you to leave.” 
He wrapped his arms around her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. If she was really going to be out of his life, he wanted one last memory of her. Her scent, the feeling of her on his skin. Anything he could, he wanted to remember. 
“I’m so sorry, MC… I’m so sorry.” A sob escaped Zen as he stood there, gripping the love of his life. 
“Did you mean it?” She whispered into his chest, “Your text, do you really mean what you wrote?” 
Zen stopped a moment. Did she really not think that he would change everything if it would give him a chance to get her back? “Baby, of course, I do. I would do anything, anything, if it meant that you would still be here.” 
MC sniffled a bit before taking a few steps back. More than anything, Zen wanted to hold on, wanted to have her stay and be with him. But it was her choice, and he refused to take that away from her. As he released her, Zen clenched his jaw to restrain his want to grab her hand. 
She looked up at him, her lip quivering. “I can’t… I can’t just come back like nothing ever happened.” 
 Zen nodded. Yes, he knew that this would be the answer. After all, he didn’t deserve her, even for the time he actually had her. To get MC back was just- 
“We have to start over.”  She declared, pulling Zen out from his own thoughts in a flash, “From the beginning. I need to know that this is real, not something you’ll say to get me back and it goes back to the way it was before. I can’t do that again and I-”
MC’s words are cut short by the feeling of Zen’s hand caressing her face. He looked at her, with nothing but pure euphoria. “For you to be in my life, even if it’s just as friends, I’ll do whatever you need me to. If you want to restart, I’ll just...” 
 Taking a few steps back, he reached out his hand for a handshake, “Hi, my name is Hyun Ryu, stage name Zen. And I am hopelessly in love with you.”
Trying to fight back the tears, she reached up and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m MC. And I have missed you every second you have been out of my life.” 
Yoosung ⭐️
These past few months had been a really rough time for Yoosung. Not only having to deal with the regular stresses of his life, but he also had no idea how to do it without depending on someone as capable as MC. 
He had decided to focus entirely on school, even considered dropping out of the RFA, but at their refusal, he explained what happened. The weight of their actions dawned on them. The whole group pledged to work on this mistake, without much pushing from Yoosung. They all seemed to miss MC, even if it isn’t as much as Yoosung did. 
But with the RFA making steady progress, Yoosung decided to get a hold on his life, passing all of his courses this year with flying colors. 
Part of him wanted to call MC, tell her all the good things he accomplished in his strides to become better, but with only time he’s heard from her was the reply to the text he sent the night she left; he didn’t feel he deserved to talk to MC. He didn’t want to bother her. She likely never wanted to see him again, and he couldn’t blame her. 
 But with finals finally done, Yoosung felt like it was time to reward himself for his success. There was a limited time expansion for LOLOL and Yoosung had just saved enough to get it. He went into the game store, excited to finally get to play it. 
Getting in line, he couldn’t help but stare at the hair of the woman in front of him. If he didn’t know better, he probably would’ve thought that it was MC-
Wait. Was that MC? She had the same beautiful locks, the same frame, but it was hard to tell from the baggy sweatshirt she had on. He stood, awkwardly staring at the girl in front of him, trying to build up the nerve to just poke, maybe brush into her so she’d turn around?   
No, no that was stupid… What if it was her, what then?  ‘Oh hey MC, nice to see you again? I haven’t been a happy a single moment since you left; I need you in my life.’ Yeah, Yoosung tells himself, that’s a horrible plan. If it was her, she probably wouldn’t want to see him, anyway. 
He pulls out his phone to look at her last text, “And my heart to you, Star.” Sure, she said that, but did he actually deserve that? Wasn’t what he put her through enough?  But even so… he wanted to see her, even just once. He glanced back down at his phone, at her ring that has become his keychain and made up his mind. 
“Hey, sunshine.” He said, enough for the girl in front him, but not loud enough that it was directed toward her. He watched as she flinched, dropping her phone in the process. 
Yoosung went for it, apologizing as he did. Picking up the phone, he freezes. On the lock screen was of him, happily hugging the love of his life. He remembered that photo, it was the first time MC told him that she loved him. It was one of the happiest moments in Yoosung's life. 
A pair of hands met his, taking the phone. Yoosung almost tried to keep the phone to keep looking at the photo, but it’s not his phone, so he let the other hands take it. Standing back up, he was face to face with MC. 
Status: Frozen
Yoosung had no idea what he was supposed to do. Should he talk? Wave? Maybe just ignore her…? What? no! Swallowing thickly, Yoosung stuck his hand out to wave at her. 
‘I’m such an idiot’ Flashed through his head, but he had to push past it. 
“Hey, Sunshine. You… you look really good.” 
She looked down at her sweatshirt and baggy pants and laughed softly, “I haven’t taken a shower in two days, I needed to get to a high enough level to be able to play the DLC. I don’t have you to carry me through those high-level missions anymore…” MC trails off, looking away from him.
“Are you kidding?” Yoosung said, surprised, "You were much better than me when I started. You’ll be one of the top members on the server in no time! You’re already at ranking 137, that’s incredible to only have been playing for a few months!”
At his words, MC’s eyes widened. Yoosung realized how weird his statement must’ve been. Who keeps track of their ex-girlfriend’s gaming status? Him, definitely. There were times Yoosung wanted to offer her the legendary gear he had collected, but could never build up enough courage. 
Clutching a strand of her hair, MC sucked in a breath, “Well… How have you been? Classes going well?” 
Yoosung nodded shyly, now embarrassed and not sure what to say with her finally in front of him, “Yeah, Finally passed with some of the top grades in my class! Your study guides really helped me out, though I missed working with you on them.” 
“Well, you seem to be getting along fine, so you can’t be missing much.” 
With furrowed brows, Yoosung caught MC's hand as she was about to turn away, “MC… I have been doing these things for you. For how much you pushed me and supported me. For me to fail when you left, would be the ultimate proof that I never should have had you in the first place.” 
MC opened her mouth to speak, but Yoosung persisted, not allowing her to say something that couldn’t be more wrong, “You think I’ve just moved on, but I still haven’t, I swear that to you. Instead, I’m trying to be someone you’d be proud of. Improving my grades, becoming more independent. Even the RFA is trying to change to make it more welcoming to you, if you’d ever think about coming back to me-  us. Come back to us.” 
There was so much more he wanted to say, needed to say. But just as he opened his mouth to speak- 
“Miss, you’re next.” The cashier said, gesturing to MC. Hesitantly, MC released her hand from his grasp and left him alone. He watched as she conversed lightly with the attendant checking out her game. With a smile, he returned her change and a bag with the game inside. Yoosung reached out to talk to her again, but the man calling him caught him off guard. He glanced over towards the man, then back to MC, only to see she was gone. 
With a heavy heart, he reached the man and bought his game, not even reciprocating the attendant’s excited comments about the DLC. Exiting the store, Yoosung was trying not to cry. (He needed to get back home before that happened) So as he went through the door, he didn’t see the figure standing beside it until they had grabbed the back of his shirt. But he was sad, he was angry, he was ready to throw down. Imagine his surprise when he turned, fists formed, only to be face-to-face with MC once again. 
“Sorry to scare you!”  She squeaked, putting her hands up in surrender. 
The sadness in his heart immediately changed to relief as he looked into her serene eyes. Everything was right with the world once again. 
 MC stood there, mustering up the courage to ask the one thing has had been wanting to say since the beginning of their conversation. “I was uh, just wondering if you would like to… You don’t have to say yes, but I’d like you to.”
Even though nothing was actually explained, Yoosung still had a slight idea of what she was trying to say, “I’d love to work together to beat the next few levels with you, MC. Superman Yoosung is always here for Eternal Sunshine MC.” 
She nodded at him, tears beginning to prick the corners of her eyes “I think I’d really like that.” 
Jumin 🍷
“Just reporting: Has the famous CEO bachelor finally found his date to the upcoming charity ball?” 
With a sigh, Jumin turned off his smartphone. Despite their engagement was never announced publicly, reporters everywhere were trying to pin down who was the 'next woman' to be Jumin’s girl now that he was seemingly single. What they never accounted for was that he had no other plans. MC was the only woman he believed could ever understand him. And in these few months, that point became even more airtight. Not even his father truly understood the pain he was going through. He found himself wanting nothing more than to just work and stay home, avoiding everyone. 
But he did have to go to this charity ball. He had made a large donation, albeit in the company’s name, to the organization. After all, it was one that MC supported the most. It meant the world to her, so he’d give it as much support as he could. 
Jumin exited the limo and easily ignored the flashing lights of the cameras around him. Ignored the passing questions and remarks from the reporters. All but one. 
“Have you finally found a replacement for your ex-girlfriend?” 
It took all he had not to turn back to the reporter. MC could never just be replaced. There was no one in the world like her. So with gritted teeth, he entered into the building. 
For Jumin, entering the room immediately calmed his nerves. Looking around the scenery was like a breath of fresh air when such a feeling was so foreign to him recently. He couldn’t spot anything in particular that could make him feel that way, but the whole place just felt so comfortable. 
Glancing at the people, however, there was someone that stuck out among the rest. A woman in a sleek, black dress, carrying a glass of champagne as she laughed with the man across from her. Anger flared in the back of his mind as he watched the smile that graced her slender face. As the man touched the soft skin on her hand. No one should touch his MC- 
But she wasn’t his anymore, was she? And he no longer had a say on who she talked to, not that she would have completely listened to him anyways. 
Even as he was thinking this, Jumin found himself nearing them. Seems his subconscious was wanting to see her once more. Wanting to get that man’s hand off of her. But would she even want to see him? 
Not stepping any further, he began watching her again, trying to commit every feature to memory. But she caught his eyes for a moment before turning back to the target of her conversation. With a small handshake, she turned and headed towards him. 
Unprepared for this conversation, he picked up a glass of champagne from a tray passing him by and drank at least half of the liquid in one gulp. He noted the smile on her face as he did it, which he found interesting. But there was no time to think about it as MC was already on him before he knew it. “Jumin, it’s a pleasure to see you could make it out here. I take you were the one behind C&R’s large monetary donation?” 
Jumin was still frozen, unsure of what to say. She seemed happy. And she was the one to come to him, not the other way around. Surely she actually wanted to speak to him or she wouldn’t have come to him, right? He coughed lightly and looked into her eyes, “Yes, I remember you speaking so highly about this charity, so when the opportunity arose, I made sure to contribute. The RFA’s funding should be coming here too from the most recent party, as well.” 
“Yes, I’m aware,” MC nodded, gesturing vaguely behind her, “I spoke to V a moment ago, he came to represent the RFA.” Puzzled, he looked at her with a curious expression. MC understood and smiled, “I’m now one of the leading positions within the organization. I’m their event coordinator, so I get the list of attendants, as well as how much they donated. Both C&R and the RFA’s were very generous, I must thank you.” 
While it was unexpected, Jumin wasn't surprised. MC was very talented and capable of greatness. He smiled at her, and nodded slowly, “I’m glad to see you’re still making a name for yourself, MC. You’re a talented woman, they are very lucky to have you here.” 
A blush spread across her face at his words. She looked down at the ground for a moment before gazing back at Jumin. There was so much he wanted to say, but here and now wasn’t the right time. He leaned in closer to her, his breath brushing past her ear, “May I speak with you a moment?”   
She nodded slowly and followed him to the corner of the room, away from the crowd. Not that he truly noticed them in the beginning, as everything else seemed to fade away when he is with her. But in their isolation, he could feel his heart swell. Jumin wanted to hold her hand, kiss her, tell her how much he missed her, and loved her. How much he prayed she would come back. But none of that actually came out, all he could do was close the distance between them and wrap his arms around her affectionately. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes as he held her against him. 
Jumin shakily sighed as her hands gripped the fabric of his suit, “Oh, how I’ve missed you…” 
In a quick motion, she pulled away from him, but only enough to look at him with a scrutinizing gaze, “You actually missed me?” 
“Without a doubt, I have longed for you every moment you were away. Did you think otherwise?” He looked at her, feeling a mix of curiosity and worry. 
MC shook her head, her smile falling as confusion began to cover her expression, “If you missed me, why haven’t you tried to bring me back? A message, a call… anything? You’ve been silent this whole time… Even V talks to me more than you do and we both know how hard he is to get in touch with.” 
Sliding his hands down to hold her hand, Jumin tried to put his thoughts into words. “Because I don’t deserve you. You were perfect and I was… flawed. All of us were. I didn’t want you to be brought down because of us. You had left for a good reason." 
“Jumin,” She said softly, “I am far from perfect. I left you instead of trying to work with you on it. And when you never called... I thought you hated me-“ 
Without wasting a moment, Jumin leaned in to connect his lips with hers, cutting off her next words. Hate her? He never once held the smallest amount of anger towards her, the thought of it was revolting. Separating their lips just enough for him to speak, he leaned against her forehead,  “I could never hate the woman I’m hopelessly in love with.” 
She closed the distance between them, sealing the two in another kiss. They embraced in the corner of the room and began to dance before the music even began to play. 
Saeyoung 🚧
Every day was just like the last. Get up, work, finish the job, sleep. The only variation was when Vanderwood would show up in the day. Ever since MC left, he had been coming over more often, complaining that he had to clean up after him more now that MC wasn’t there anymore. 
Though it was really to make sure that he was okay and to force him to eat.
And he was right. Once she left, Seayoung fell right back into his bad habits. Not eating, barely ever sleeping. He was nothing more than a slave with survival as his only goal. To live long enough to see those he loved living a happy life without him. 
But it was odd, he wasn’t able to track MC here recently. She was on the CCTV still, trying to talk to him through it ignoring the strange looks she got for shouting and gesturing at a surveillance camera. But in the world of binary numbers, it was almost like she turned into a ghost. 
With a sigh, Saeyoung turned on his system to continue working on his newest assignment. Maybe it was a good thing, to never be able to see her. Then he’d never be reminded of all the reasons he should never have made her leave.
 `ALERT: VIRUS DETECTED` 
The words covered the page. Not knowing what had happened, he knew one thing. He had been hacked.
Saeyoung froze.  How did… it wasn’t possible. With crossed brows, he began trying to get around the evident hacking that had infiltrated his servers. All the information he had on this comp- 
“Oh, no... God, please... No.” He muttered, remembering all of the photos he had of his brother and of MC. If his ineptitude put either of them at risk, he could never forgive himself. 
But as he broke deeper and deeper through the firewalls that were placed, he noticed that the hacker had a lock on everything but the photos of them. It didn’t make sense, but it was almost completely untouched.
As he clicked the folder, their photos appeared on screen, untouched, perfect. Except, there was one addition, a video with a black screen. 
 Holding his breath, Saeyoung opens the video. It shows a blank screen for the longest time until a simple 6 words appeared. 
 “CAN’T AVOID ME FOREVER! LOVE, 606” 
As his mind began processing the words on the screen, Vanderwood entered the room. For a moment, Saeyoung was worried he’d yell at him for the state of his computer, but his partner only looked at him with a knowing grin. 
“MC said that you can either spend two hours unlocking your computer or come into the living room to talk with her for ten minutes.” He stated, trying not to look as amused as he really was. 
 With a sigh, he looked away from Vanderwood, "There really is no way around this, is there?” His friend didn’t reply, only shook his head. Saeyoung stood up, sticking his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and walked out of his room.
There she was. 
Just a few feet away. 
His heart broke just seeing her beautiful face and wanted nothing more than to go to her and apologize for all that he’s done. But he didn’t. Instead, Saeyoung walked passed her and sits across the room, as far as possible. Without a word. “You’ll release my computer?” He asked coldly, staring at the ground beneath her seat. 
MC nodded, before realizing he wasn’t looking at her. Chuckling lightly, she couldn’t help nodding again, “Yes, I will. You know me, I stick to my word. Other than the hour statement I told Vanderwood, it would’ve taken longer. But if you had chosen the hard route, you would’ve realized how much harder it really was after two hours went by and come out anyway.” 
Withholding the want to look at her, Saeyoung ran his hand through his hair. “How did you manage to get into so much of my software without my noticing?”
“When I left, I had wondered if you really didn’t know what you were doing, or if you were just pushing me away again.” She sighed, taking a moment before continuing, “So I hacked in far enough to see your code, and then set up a virus to the video input of your computer. Then I spoke to the CCTV and waited. 15 seconds. That was all it took until you opened it to see me speaking. And as long as that was up, my virus got through. I really didn’t think it would actually work, so it was really helpful you would only focus on me when the videos were up. I suppose I should thank you for that.” 
He could hear Vanderwood laughing from the kitchen, but decided to ignore it. “Why? Why interfere in my work?” 
His sharp tone cut into MC, but she only smiled at his harshness. “Because I wanted to see you, Sae.” 
She.. what? He had outcasted her, tore her down, and made her feel worthless. And she wanted to see him? Saeyoung was at a loss for words. It took a moment for him to speak again. 
“There’s no reason for you to see me again. I don’t have closure or anything for you. You’re better off-“ 
“That’s not what I want.” She interrupted. Taking the moment of silence between then, she stood up and approached Saeyoung, sitting next to him. 
He wouldn’t look at her. He couldn’t. One glance and he knew all of his walls would break. 
“Then what do you want?” 
She placed her hand on top of his, trying not to lose her composure as he moved his hand away from hers. “I want to be with you again.” 
Saeyoung couldn’t help the scoff that came out of his mouth. “I thought you made it pretty clear you didn’t. Isn’t that why you left?” 
While every word he spoke felt like a dagger in his heart, his face remains stoic. “I needed time. And I got that. This was never a permanent deal unless *you* make it one. 
“Then consider this our official breakup. Clean my computer and leave.” 
MC turned her head away from him for a moment, no doubt to wipe away her tears again. “I don’t believe it.” 
“Well, it’s true!” He shouted. “I don’t care about you, now leave me alone!” 
As she goes to refute his words, nothing but a small whimper came out. She placed her hand on his once again, not allowing it to get out of her grasp. With tears in her eyes and a reforged determination, she stared at the man she loves. “Then look me in the eyes and tell me that. Tell me you don’t feel an ounce of feelings for me, and I’ll leave.” 
The quivering of her voice ripped through him in ways that bullets never could. But if he didn’t do it, she would be dragged down with him. Gripping his hoodie tightly, he lifted his eyes to reach hers. To tell her one last time to leave him and go live the life she was meant to live. 
But as he stared at her tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes, the words he wanted to say disappeared, and Saeyoung began to do the one thing he didn’t want to do- speak from the heart. 
“I never want you to cry, MC. Don’t you see that… That you’ll be hurt by staying with me, and you’ll cry. And I can't take seeing you like that. I can’t tell you I don’t care, but I will ask you to leave, one last time.” 
Unable to look anymore, he dropped his eyes, staring at their conjoined hands until something lightly touched his forehead. Feeling her lips on his skin sent shudders down his body as tears formed in his eyes. 
“I have cried more time since I left this house than I would have in a lifetime by your side. My love, nothing hurts worse than being apart from you.” She could only whisper, the sounds getting stuck in her throat. “Please, Sae, please let me back in.” 
 Saeyoung looked back up, into MC's red-rimmed eyes. How could he ever refuse her? With a simple nod of his head, Saeyoung reached for her, clutching her tightly in a breathtaking hug. And MC’s hold was just as strong. 
Maybe he was wrong. Could this time be the good route, the one where he can actually be happy? Saeyoung didn’t know, but with the feeling of MC in his arms, he doesn’t see how life could get any better. 
.  .  . 
After hearing the conversation, Vanderwood stood awkwardly in the kitchen, wondering when it’s would be okay for him to come back out.
I really hope that you guys enjoyed it! It was a pleasure to write your requests. If you have any ideas, feel free to drop a free request! 
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175 notes · View notes
m0e-ru · 3 years
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eight months in somebody actually asked me abt visualive instead of me immediately annoying ppl about it without former notice. I might actually write properly for once 😳😳😳
OK OK!!!!! In this essay I will.... I will.... Visualive Adachi.... Visu/BURSTS INTO TEARS/
OKAY OKAY for real I just care Visualive so much (as someone who can’t fully understand Japanese AHAHA)
First I’ll add some foundation about what Visualive really is, then I talk abt Adachi in the latter parts of it because this is technically the first time I’m properly talking about this hehe 🐿
T....table of contents???
Visualive
Visualive the Evolution
Masami Itou
Visualive Adachi
Visualive the Evolution Adachi
Terms and Legend
VL - Visualive
VLE - Visualive the Evolution
stage - shortened for “stageplay”
面白い - omoshiroi (it’s just that specific)
Yuuya - VL Hero name
Hayato - VLE Hero name
Baba - Hero
Masami - Adachi
Taniguchi - Dojima
Saotome - Daisuke
Mamiya - Izanami
I add honorifics but sometimes I forget the hyphen intentionally or unintentionally I’m sorry if it makes it hard to read lol
all links have automatic timestamps for easy viewing. i mean. i hope the timestamps work
VISUALIVE “Persona 4.” A stage adaptation of SMT: Persona 4 by Atlus. It adapts the first part of the story, from the hero’s arrival to after recovering Mitsuo Kubo from the TV world. It also ends on a cliff hanger, showing a teaser of Shadow Naoto being projected on the screen.
It takes up a speedy recapitulation of the hero’s spring life, before slowing down and showing in depth his school life in summer. A day before Morooka-sensei’s death, there is a little skit with Kou, Daisuke and Adachi. The hero walks into the conversation before the two other boys leaving, and Morooka-sensei walking in on the student and detective. The next day follow’s the teacher’s death and the Investigation Team (IT) begin investigating their new lead.
From the words “visual” and “alive,” the niche of this stage was meant to be the fusion of live acting and visual digital projections. All seen from the stageplay with the colorful cast of actors and CG animations being projected on the screen. This offers an opportunity for characters to summon their personas, perform cool visual effects, change the backdrop, or even confront their own Shadows.
Performed in Sunshine Theater from the 15th to the 20th of March 2012. The screenplay was written and directed by Shintaro Asanuma from the theatrical group “bpm.” The video production produced by Shutaro Oku, a film director and visual planner. He later takes over as director for VISUALIVE THE EVOLUTION, the sequel stage. The stage music was produced by Shunsuke Wada, with a special show exclusive vocal track sung by Shihoko Hirata.
On this note, I haven’t seen any sort of original soundtrack released for any of the stages and I’m SO SAD. The last song in Mitsuo’s boss fight was such a BANGER and literally EVERYTHING ELSE Marvelous, Wadasan please take my MONEY
Regarding the cast, there were some special accommodations for Teddie, Rise, and Nanako, all of which did not have live actors at the time. During the casting, actors for the three characters could not be found or simply left the directors unsatisfied they couldn’t cast anybody. An exception for Rise, who was able to have a live actor in the sequel stage. It has been stated that there weren’t any “pretty boy” actors that fit the “Teddie Criteria.” While there weren’t any child actors that were believed to portray Nanako well.
Teddie was only ever seen in his bear costume while Rise was busy talking through a call, all voiced by their video game cast. Nanako has never appeared on stage, only being scarcely mentioned in the script. Again, this is different in the sequel stage where her role was extremely important and was shown as a screen projection.
VISUALIVE “Persona 4” THE EVOLUTION. A sequel stage. Beginning abruptly in the middle of Shadow Naoto’s boss fight, the story continues from there until the “true end” of the game’s original story. *Certain characters are introduced while others have been reintroduced. And on a personal note, when it’s all comedic in the beginning, it’s all for what’s coming right after.
I don’t know if I’m salty or just find it really funny AHAHA I might go talk abt it some other day with more context ehehe
Performed in The Galaxy Theater from the 3rd to the 9th of October 2012, only a few months after the PSVITA Persona 4 Golden release, which is July 2012. The screenplay was now written by Jun Kumagi while directed by Shutaro Oku. And music production finally taken over by Shoji Meguro himself.
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HAHAHA this is starting to look like a wiki page. moving on. I might start rambling rn
(warning LONG !!!! aaa,,)
My thoughts on the stage adaptations. For the first Visualive (VL) I believe it’s pretty close to canon! I enjoy the characterization and how much love and care was present when handling the entire production.
Actors were busy playing the game itself, wherein a PS2 was present in the practice room. Along with magazines and game guides explaining the game’s story and the characters itself. Actors performing together and even improv acting together to get a grasp of their characters. All of them knowing well of Persona 4 as a well loved game, delicately handling their characters and hopefully performing them right while making the audience happy.
The staff taking care of each other while the director and video producer, Asanuma-san and Oku-san, working together well to make their vision into a reality.
The same thing happened with VL the Evolution (VLE) and literally every other good stage. Except... I feel the script kinda got out of hand with too much liberty where it feels a bit more disconnected from canon. But! It makes up for it in its content, whether comedic or (INCREDIBLY) dramatic! It’s great as its own story at that point. So in this case, I like to take the first VL and get to connect it canon, while I don’t know what the hell happened in VLE to the point I’ll just enjoy it as its own content.
These opinions deserve its own essay, post whatever bc I have SO much to say abt this. ANYWAY. VL ADACHI
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Tohru Adachi is portrayed by Masami Itou (伊藤マサミ), a screenplay writer, director and an stage actor himself. He does have a single character voice role along with a fellow troupe member in the same franchise, but mostly works as the former three. He is part of Asanuma-san’s entertainment group “bpm.” On a similar note, Masashi Taniguchi, Dojima’s actor, was also part of their group from 2011 to 2016, which may explain their good synergy as the boss and the bumbling fool dynamic. I mean, somebody’s gotta get hit in the head every few skits.
With Masami-san being an important part of the cast, he doesn’t appear as often as Taniguchi-san in backstage content like the VL bonus disk or the official blog. Mentioned in his own personal blog, he had been busy with his roles as assistant director (I am assuming also for VL).
Also fun to note, because his role is mainly comic relief, he has been using his liberty to change up the material almost everyday making each performance exciting. This also leaves some other actors jealous of his freedom in his role, such as Saotome-san, Daisuke’s actor.
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VL Adachi really has a... how do I say this? an adorable speech pattern (THE SAME SPEECH PATTERN THAT DROVE ME MAD TRYING TO DECIPHER I THOUGHT YOU WERE A CITY BOY OSSU OSSU MY ASS /shakes you violently/). Overall, he really fits the loose lipped bumbling fool, and his accent really makes him seem more casual and invested. What I’m saying is... VL Adachi either actually has genuine empathy or he actually has more energy to fake it (compared to some other edgelord. i mean you saw my p4ga analysis. I’m sick of him lol ahaha).
One of my favorite ways to explain this (OTHER THAN CHAIR CAR ADVENTURE MY BELOVED WE’LL GET TO THAT LATER) is the rice field scene with him and Dojima. It’s overanalyzation time 🎉
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(43:04)
While investigating, Adachi whines about being tired while Dojima smacks him in the head. In this case, it’s established that Adachi doesn’t want to be there, yes? It’s the country, it’s hot and it smells like green.
"Ah... Dojima-san..! Why don't we take a break? (...) There really is nothing out here... Is the criminal still even here at all? (...) I wonder if I've passed being a rookie yet. Haha, but this city doesn't even have convenient transportation. I can't go to leisure lands (recreation, amusement parks, arcades, ect.) and head home at all."
Adachi then tries to tell Dojima a story. “when I got to this city after being newly assigned, I met an interesting guy (...) Yeah, I remember that the cherry blossoms haven't bloomed yet. So, I was driving my car and got near the station and--” Dojima gets a phone call.
Adachi politely puts his hands down waiting for his boss to finish so he can finish the story. Again and again, Adachi attempts to talk to Dojima about a story he’s so persistent trying to tell someone about. It was so 面白い that he would find someone to talk to about it. Even being polite and patient enough to wait for a chance to speak. He even gets fed up with it and blows up in front of his boss, clearly irritated he’s not given a chance to talk.
Sure, it could be Adachi feeling fed up like a normal person where someone agreed he to listen to him, before being constantly ignored. Or Adachi trying to be a more annoying whiny brat, depending on where you look at it.
If the story wasn’t too “interesting” to Adachi, he would’ve just brushed it off and stopped talking to Dojima entirely, or start up new small talk, or even complain some more. But no, he had a story he wanted to voice out so bad that he got irritated that the one person in the vicinity couldn’t listen to him.
Only after Dojima told him to continue their investigation elsewhere did Adachi finally stop and focus on something else. Maybe that story was for another day, or maybe it was never meant to be told.
What if it was just original (game) Adachi? He’d find a way to squirrel out of the investigation as usual, or push Dojima to “investigate” elsewhere. “Hey boss, don’t you think it’s hot? Why don’t we go elsewhere? We’ve seen this place too many times to count and I doubt anything new’ll turn up. How about we take a break at Junes, y’know? Where it’s cool? C’mon boss,” something like that.
og Adachi is just really annoying and silly to me. Some grown man thinking he can freeload because he never gets anything out of putting in more energy and effort? I don’t care how tall he is, I will smack him in the head.
Yeah VL Adachi whines, too, but at least it doesn’t look like he’s going to escape and waste his time somewhere else. He just sucks it up stops trying to leave the situation.
Or maybe I’m getting this all wrong and VL is exactly the same and my rage just gets dampened because of Masamisan’s execution of character hmm...
SO. What was his story about anyway? The one he really wanted to share to Dojima?
I mean... it’s obvious enough
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First day in town? Spring? Actually mentioned driving a car when literally out of every single persona 4 media at the time was there not a SINGLE mention of Adachi having a car OTHER THAN the same stageplay it’s being mentioned in?
A story, from somewhere around uhh four? five months ago? was something that he remembered so dearly and was willing to share despite it obviously embarrassing him even if he puts the blame on a certain somebody in the same story?
Or maybe it’s because he really had nothing to talk about ever since he realized all his stories from the city weren’t actually that funny or interesting in the first place.
BUT then that would mean out of all the things he could talk about—more whining, complaining, complimenting, small talk—he insisted about talking about this story in particular.
Okay, look. I’m just. Just. As someone who talks too much, of course I have things I actually want people to hear out of all the bullshit that comes out of my mouth. And if the thing I actually want people to listen to doesn’t even get heard, I’d go mad.
Sure, Adachi’d be fine when his complaints or intentionally unfunny jokes get brushed off. But a story of a guy that he thought was so funny, interesting, 面白い gets ignored, he really blew up, even just for a split second, maybe.
And ALL the things that happened in that story—on his first day in Inaba! His car got dented, he had to deal with a weirdo dumbass employee that knew zero personal space, yelled in his ear, who didn’t know how to do their job, got his station reputation messed up on the first day, got his ass grabbed, got (unintentionally?) mocked for his lame stories, and got his car dented for the SECOND time. Probably MORE
And he STILL wanted to talk about it /punches through concrete wall/
yes I’m overthinking about this of course i am
This little tidbit of VL Adachi kinda makes me go insane sometimes—his entire characterization in VL in particular. It was really refreshing to see and how they included both of his characters in it, his facade and how irritated he is of a lot of things underneath. And how flexible his character is immediately working with other characters when there’s sudden improv to balance the situation. Like him and Dojima, Morooka, the attendant, or even Yuuya (hero) himself.
I’ll take Taniguchi-san’s messing around in the VL bonus backstage disc in place of Masami-san being so busy he couldn’t appear in it as often as other characters.
For stagetime that lasted for fifteen minutes or less, my appreciation for VL Adachi, even if he was just comic relief, really rocketed. I say VL, bc Adachi the edgelord he’s supposed to be in literally every other media is something I analyze separately.
I haven’t even gotten to VLE oh my GODDDDD
Like I said, I don’t really regard VLE close to canon but as something to be appreciated for what it is by itself. But the way Adachi was characterized there, in or out of character, still struck me.
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Yes, there was his strange fan-agreed-canon which is,,, now canon obsession with cabbages (not that that’s a bad thing lmao). There was also him being a lot more jumpy and intimate in a clowny way, patting people on the shoulder or even downright hugging them just to mess around. Even FORGETTING who the same goddam loser who grabbed his ass almost a year ago is. But like, can’t blame him they literally changed their actor (and screenplay writer) AHAHAHA
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ha... no more comedy, only dorky sword fights now
(speaking of sword fights I think it’s a fun thought how Mamiya-san [Izanami, also one of the youngest in the cast] admitted it was his first time doing sword fight choreography and even thanked Masami-san and other staff members for guiding him)
One thing unintentionally in character was Adachi accidentally nabbing the sushi overdosed in wasabi. Masami-san didn’t actually account for a joke sushi and didn’t immediately eat it—until Taniguchi-san (who also made Dojima go off his shits compared to VL) jokingly yelled at him and even riled up the audience for him to eat it. He even went off stage to get water just for him to eat the goddam sushi.
And Masami-san did! (kinda choked, but he’s fine).
Continuing from the same scene, while being overly giddy about sushi dinner (and I mean overly--he was singing about it while hopping to the Dojima residence), he tried to remind the two, Dojima and Hayato (hero), that Nanako was sleeping. Probably where she was sick if the scene was translated from the game.
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(30:07)
And... the dramatic parts of VLE
Adachi was the one who reported to the IT that Dojima was chasing Namatame in the rain. While Naoto was discussing Namatame’s journal entries, Adachi, as giddy as he is, took it from Naoto’s hands and reveled in the discovery of evidence so childishly(?). He even ran to Dojima when he began regaining consciousness and immediately called the nurses to help him wheel Dojima to the ER.
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Then, The Hospital Scene™️, right after Nanako flatlines.
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(1:02:02)
Adachi, who recently walked into the scene, immediately worries about Dojima and IT who were ALL crying. He looks down, devastated—before yelling how Dojima’s heading to Namatame’s room.
He yells in terror and the same grief at his injured boss, all while running past and even jumping over children, who fell to the ground sobbing, to get to him. He continues yelling in a pained fashion while immediately reprimanding Dojima to stop. He gets carried by the collar before being tossed to the ground at Hayato’s feet, all while being pat by the same boy.
Dojima makes his speech about how unfair it is for the ‘killer’ to be alive when his daughter isn’t. When he finally falls to his knees, Adachi rises from the ground, humbly saying he’ll do his best to take care of Dojima (or something like that I’m in tears I literally can’t do VLE’s hospital scene i h8 this). He finally starts crying along with everyone else, being pushed away again but still tries again, trying to usher his boss away from the door.
With the help of the guard in front of the door, they all disappear off stage
please... I know this scene doesn’t need that much translation because of how important this scene is in the entire story. and I know my narratives aren’t enough so just,,,, just watch it please it’s so much more than this. everyone’s acting was just spectacular
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(1:08:47)
So, after the IT (YOSUKE. JUST YOSUKE. good job Mae-chan) stop themselves from k wording Namatame, it was ADACHI who reported Nanako’s miracle recovery. He ran to the same corridor where they all cried in, even panting and falling to the ground in relief trying to report the good news. Then he pats Hayato on the shoulder and says he’s going to Dojima.
With this... /slaps roof of half of VLE/ ALL of this....adachi.... adachisan.... he Cares™️..... holy shit.....
now. comparing to the game. do you even remember what og Adachi did? did he.. even do anything?????
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(56:39)
NO!!! he just stood there!!!! being a bumbling fool but.... inappropriately!!! man. he didn’t act concerned enough.
adachi: /walks into a bunch of kids crying outside a hospital room/ “lmao why tf are y’all crying? did uhhh what’s her face uhhh nanako. did she d word or something? rip, I guess lol” LIKE????? CAN YOU IMPLY FASTER
and then he’s like “wgat hmm Where’s Dojima-san Heading Because That’s Not The Way To His Room 🤔” and only when he’s asked he actually mentions he’s heading to Namatame’s room and still needs to get choked by a first year for the room number like..... zero consideration
and his boss??? where his daughter he loves so much just??? di*s???? and he’s so devastated he’s doing what he can that very moment while he’s so numbed of thinking of the consequences???? And adachi goes “uhh boss that’s illegal” LIKE. BITCH. /punches through a concrete wall but harder/
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And??? His confrontation scene??? Like, I know they mashed it up w his tv confession scene to save stagetime for other scenes BUT IT WAS SO MMBMBMBMMGN /gestures in a good way/
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(1:15:56)
UM?? guy behind everything??? in a vulnerable area where he could easily get physically assaulted bc hes not in the tv world w his persona?? Trash talks women like he absolute misogynist he is??? getting yelled at by a bunch of kids and YELLING BACK IN THE SAME AGITATED MANNER even TAUNTING THEM then and there to GET HIS ASS?????
og Adachi was such a pussy he got caught and just scurried off into the TV world where he ended up having powers like...ok....scared of getting beat down by a bunch of highschoolers unless you have powers...ok....
he only taunted them to get him when he was in the tv world too.....he rlly couldn’t say shit in the real world huh... lol
(yeah yeah this shows how VLE Adachi knew abt his TV world powers which would make you think if he ever went into the tv world and came back out alive. Or he’s really just a badass who doesnt give a shit abt anyone’s opinions and CAN beat anyone’s ass. i have a separate thing abt this but bc i like to laught at vle rather than overthink its own lore i might. not. idk lol)
and ??? VLE Adachi can??? He can swordfight??? he doesn’t even NEED a gun—he even reflects bullets w his blade (but apparently he can still get slapped by a flying fan more often than any other attack). His fight choreo was just...so poggers. He’s like short villains done good—like??? he’s short compared to everyone else!!! but he makes up for it for stuffing all the energy inside him while is bursts out making him him the over energetic gremlin he is!!! go VL adachi!!!!
(am I low key making fun of Madono-san in the TUUSH stageplay I’ve seen four minutes of? maybe)
OK!!! Yes I was gushing abt Masami-san again back to Adachi.
It’s portrayed that while not being afraid to admit his crimes, he also goes out of his way to be a bastard and have the gall to get a bunch of kids to fight him, one on eight. He can use a katana, probably a narrative dark reflection of the hero, Hayato which I thought was nice—and he can fight!!! It also shows his persona, yes, but...it doesn’t make it clear if he’s overwhelmed by his Shadow like in the game, where his eyes were yellow and he was emitting a dark aura.
But it gets interesting how he sees he’s getting overwhelmed and starting to lose his edge towards a bunch of kids. He falls to the ground even banging the floor like a whiny brat while literally the IT tries to tell him to turn himself in. Again, like a brat he tells everyone to shut up—before getting incapacitated. While some of the IT rejoice, he bolts up unaccepting of his defeat—before getting hit in the stomach.
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And his words from when he drops his katana, “Why..?” He grabs the foldable chair against his stomach, and with a remorseful look in his eyes, he says “I’m sorry..!”
THEN HE BACKFLIPS—then Hayato slashes him.
In a tone of disbelief, he goes “no way...” and collapses to the ground, being possessed by Ame-no-Sagiri.
Blah blah blah then Teddie rockets himself into the eyeball spy cam and then they both explode aaaaa
Teddie survives but I really don’t know where Adachi went. Not even a mention by Dojima if he turned himself in or was ever found—or I need to review VLE for the 48274827482nd time hehe
WHOO then the whole cast appears for the dance number at the end of show YAHOO
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lonelyreputation · 4 years
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A/N:  Hello hello! Here’s some (more) fluff!! Who am I? But anyway, I wrote this from this sensory request and it was actually the first request I GOT ON THIS BLOG (!!!) so I'm so sorry that it’s coming so late!! But I’ll always remember this request bc it was the first🥺 
Anywaayyyy thank you all so much for reading, sending me the nicest messages, reblog-ing, and requesting prompts!! I get so much motivation from you all it’s insane!! Thank you!! I appreciate every single one of you!!
PROMPT: Licking your fingers while eating Cheetos
Chat Chat Chat | MASTERLIST
Warnings: One (1) swear word & a bit of a heated make out session😶
Word Count: 3.9K
Being a twenty-year-old and playing sold out shows in stadiums around the world was abnormal.  But what was more abnormal was that the twenty-year-old who spent most of his time on a tour bus than in his own apartment was your boyfriend.  Not many people could say that their boyfriend was in Amsterdam one day and then Paris the next.  
Shawn had spent spring in Europe on a tourbus and hotel rooms, and his summer wasn’t much different, except for the fact that he was on his North American leg of the tour.  He had convinced you to come traveling across America; it was more in your budget and convenient with your university schedule.
Every now and then, Shawn would have some down time, but it wasn’t very often.  He kept apologizing whenever he was pulled away and promised to spend time with you more.  But you didn’t mind.  Shawn had given you a front seat to his career and everything it entails.  And it was fascinating.  You would be in one city and everyone would already be advancing for a show that was two weeks away.  The precision and detail of obscure jobs that some crew had gone over your head in the past, but seeing all the mechanics of everything that goes on for the show to happen…it made you appreciate Shawn’s performances even more.
You had gotten fairly close with Shawn’s head of tour merchandiser, Dane, and often found yourself helping him set up the merchandise stands when Shawn was off at a meet and greet, sound check, or wherever Andrew had pulled him away to.  
“Are you playing in the little soccer match they have going on later today?” You asked Dane as you carried over a large brown cardboard box. 
He held up a finger to you as he finished up his count in of tour posters and typed it on a tour merchandise app on his phone, “Yeah, you?”
You shook your head as you used a key to tear through the sealed box.  Once the tape that held the box together was ripped, you opened the four flaps and saw that you were counting in some sweatshirts.  Silently, you counted ten sweatshirts, put them in a pile on the side with a sticky note on top with a number ten circled and then counted out another ten sweatshirts. 
“I’ve never been good with hand eye coordination,” you didn’t look up at him as you continued to count ten sweatshirts, “I’ve always been better at cheering people on from the sides.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed.”
You had just finished circling a ten on a neon green sticky note as you capped the sharpie and looked at Dane, “You’ve noticed?”
Dane nodded with a smile on his face as he hung up a piece of paper with a blown up image of a keychain; he stuck a large sticker with the price of the keychain on the corner of the paper.  He hung it up on the black tapestry so that way fans would be able to see it before they got up to the front of the merchandise line.
“You’re always there for Shawn when he walks on and off stage.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go to the bathroom when he’s performing.”
You blushed as you finished counting the last of the sweatshirts in the box you carried in, “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“He loves it,” Dane took a t-shirt and clipped the sleeves of it to the top of the tapestry, “The week before you came he literally wouldn’t shut up––Y/n’s coming next week, did you know?  I just love her so much!  I miss her so much!”
You bunched up a t-shirt and threw it at Dane as he miserably failed at impersonating Shawn’s voice, “He didn’t say that.”
“Ask him yourself.”
“Oh, I––“
“Ask who yourself?”
You spun your head around and came face to face with your boyfriend.  You smiled at him and threw another balled up shirt at Dane.
“Hey!  That’s merchandise we’re selling tonight!”
You waved Dane off and rested your hands on your hips, “Before I came on tour were you non-stop going around telling people I was coming and saying how much you love me and saying how much you missed me?”
Shawn still had a slight smile on his face as he gazed at you.  His facial expression hadn’t changed since he walked up behind you, so you thought you had proved Dane wrong, but that wasn’t the case when Shawn spoke up.
He shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah, why?” He spoke as if it that information was public knowledge.
Before you had the chance to say anything, you felt a soft material collide with the back of your head.  Your head slightly jerked forward from the contact of the t-shirt that was just thrown at you.  You quickly picked the shirt off the dusty ground and glared at Dane, “This is merchandise that you’re selling tonight.”
Dane barked out a laugh as he finished setting up the merchandise display.  He stood back and admired his work for a few seconds before informing Shawn he was going to check on the other stands and make sure everyone else on the merchandise team had completed their count in.  They did some sort of bro handshake, before telling one another that they’d see each other shortly for the soccer game.
Shawn walked up to your side and threw an arm over your shoulder.  You leaned your head back on his shoulder and looked up at him, “Excited for the match?”
“Yeah, just wish you were playing.”  
Your eyes closed as Shawn lightly traced circles on your upper arm with the tips of his fingers.  Shivers ran down your spine as you closed your eyes, “You’ve seen me play.”
Shawn let out a laugh as he started walking, guiding you around the main floor of the arena, “Even though it is probably a good idea that you’re not playing, it still would’ve been fun to be on the same team.”
You let out a snort as you snaked a hand around his back to pinch his hip.  Shawn lightly jerked away from you before he tickled your shoulder in retaliation, “I’d make sure we’d be on separate teams.”
“Is that so?”
You hummed in response and let the conversation die down.  Whenever a crew member passed, you offered a smile and Shawn greeted them by name.  Seeing the dynamic he had with his crew was heartwarming because you had read of horror stories of main acts being absolute divas to their crew members.
Shawn led you backstage as the two of you wandered into his dressing room.  You sat on the couch as he went over to a little duffle bag he packed just for the soccer game.  Carefully, you watched him as he bent over, staring at how his shoulder blades could be seen through his white t-shirt as he rummaged through the bag.  
Swiftly, he tore his white shirt off and you were graced with a second of seeing your boyfriend’s muscles.  The sight didn’t last long because Shawn threw his t-shirt at your face.  You scrunched your nose up at the slightly sweaty smell mixed in with his signature scent. 
“Hey!”
It only took you a second to throw the shirt off your face, but it was a second too long because Shawn was already in a vintage t-shirt and sliding on a pair of athletic shorts up past his thighs.
“That’s not fair,” you whined.
Shawn threw his head back in laughter as he picked up his sneakers.  He walked over to where you sat on the couch, picked up your legs without any hesitation, and as he sat down on the couch, he rested your calves on his thighs.
He hunched over your legs as you watched him slide his sneakers on and tie them up. The position couldn’t have been comfortable, but he managed to get his sneakers on without complaining for you to move your legs.  And you weren’t complaining about the physical contact your legs had with his thighs.
Once he was done tying his shoes, he sat up and stretched his back, a few pops emitted from his body and you flinched, not liking the sounds of bones cracking together.
Shawn rested his hands on your knees as he leaned his head on top of the couch cushion, eyes closed he said, “I don’t wanna play.”
A small chuckle left your lips, “That’s a lie.”
He turned his head slightly towards you and opened one eye, “Yeah, I do wanna play,” he let out a sigh, “but sitting here with you is so nice.”
A loud laugh escaped your lips as you looked over at him, both of his eyes now opened and intently staring at you with adoration.
“We’re literally doing nothing.”
“As long as I’m with you,” he lifted his shoulders up in a shrug, “I don’t care what we’re doing.”
Your heart skipped a beat and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.  Truth is, you loved doing nothing with him.  You savored the days when all Shawn wanted to do was spend all day tangled in your bedsheets.  You adored the days when you would sit on your couch reading a book––in a similar position to how you were sitting now––and Shawn would be hunched over scribbling lyrics down in a journal, using your legs as a writing surface.
You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Too sweet.”
“Uh huh,” Shawn grumbled as he pointed to his lips with his index finger, “I want a real kiss.”
You pretended to think about it for a moment before swinging a leg over his lap, adjusting your knees on either side as you straddled him.  Shawn’s hands instantly moved with your body as they landed on your waist.  Unlike your hands that were pressed flat on his chest, Shawn’s hands slowly rubbed your lower back and come back around to your waist.
The only thing more heavenly than his touch was the feeling of his kiss.
Shawn craned his neck up to reach your teasing smile and captured your lips in a sweet kiss.  Your smile was slow to disappear; being in Shawn’s presence was a reason for you to  smile in itself, but once he pinched your hips silently telling you to focus on kissing him, you thought that was a good enough reason to stop smiling.
Your hands trailed up Shawn’s chest until they rounded his neck.  He hummed as he pulled you closer to his chest and your fingers began to play with the small curls on the nape of his neck.  He tilted his head to deepen the kiss at the same time his hands tightly balled up the bottom of your shirt.  He lifted your shirt at a painstakingly slow pace to the point where you wanted to rip it off yourself.
Shawn had the shirt bunched up right under your bra.  Breaking the kiss, you leaned back, untangled your arms from around his neck and raised them over your head to aid Shawn in taking your shirt off.  Once the shirt was off, he carelessly threw it somewhere behind you, and without any hesitation, Shawn reattached his lips to yours as you felt a magnetic pull bring you closer to him.
His calloused fingertips were hot on your bare skin as they danced around.  
Just as you lowered your body to grind against his, a loud single knock, followed by a Shawn, caused both of your heads to snap toward the door.  Shawn practically threw you off him as he looked for your shirt––for anything––to cover up your exposed chest.  
You were leaning back against the arm rest of the couch, trying to calm down your erratic breathing, as you watched Shawn’s eyes widened as the door handle rattled.  It looked as if Shawn threw every ounce of common sense out the window as he threw a pillow that hit you in the face.
You clutched the pillow in your hands as you briefly looked down at it, and then back to Shawn, realizing what he wanted you to do with it, “I’m not––“
“Use it, Y/n––“
“Shawn!”
Your harsh whispers were cut off when Dane walked carelessly into the room.  The pillow was still limp in your hands; in shock that Dane came into the room with little announcement.  Shawn took notice of your chest still out for Dane to see––if he hadn’t seen it already––and with panicked eyes, he flung himself from the other end of the couch to lay on top of you.
You let out an oof as you felt Shawn’s full body weight collapsed on you; the pillow nestled between your stomachs.  You had never complained about Shawn being on top of you, but with this position, the arm of the couch was digging into your back and you and causing you to cramp up.  
“Shawn,” Dane said his name again as he continued to walk further into the dressing room, “Are you gonna come and warm up? The game starts in–––Oh.”
You tried to peak over Shawn’s shoulder to gauge Dane’s facial expression, but with the way Shawn was pressed up against you, you couldn’t see him.  But from the suggestive tone of his voice, you knew that teasing would be soon to follow.
“Am I interrupting something?”
You squeaked out a not at all as Shawn let out a frustrated of fucking course.
You smacked Shawn’s back with his hand at his crude response.
Dane let out a bellowing laugh, “How ya feeling down there, y/n?”  You heard his footsteps come closer and your hands clutched the fabric of Shawn’s shirt out of nervousness, “This is pure gold.  Andrew has said that he’s never caught you two in the middle of doing something––I, of course, called total bull on that––and I’m so happy to have caught you two.”
“Dane,” You said as you drug out the vowels in his name.
His laughter rumbled through the room.  Even though Dane was the person you were closest to on Shawn’s crew, it was still embarrassing to have been caught in a compromising position with your boyfriend.  It felt like you were fifteen.
“I’ll be out in ten,” Shawn answered.
Dane’s laughter died down as you heard his footsteps carry themselves back over towards the door, “I’ll put a timer on, Oh, and Y/n––“ you could hear the smirk on his lips, “––I hope to see you on the sidelines, preferably with a shirt on.”
You dug your head into the crook of Shawn’s neck as you felt all of the blood rush to your face.  Your hands were still tightly hanging onto the back of Shawn’s shirt for the next few minutes as he stayed in his position on top of you.
“At least it was Dane?”
At his weak attempt of lightening up the mood, you pushed him off and sat up on the couch, “At least?! He saw me without a shirt!”
“I covered you up!”
You shot a glare toward his direction as you got up from the couch and searched for your shirt.  It was crumpled up in a ball on the coffee table.  You let out a deep sigh, of course your shirt was thrown somewhere that was obvious.  Lifting the shirt up by the sleeves, you frowned as you examined all of the wrinkles.
“Here,” Shawn was already walking over to his duffle bag, “You can wear my shirt––“
“I’m––No,” you answered him as you tugged on your shirt, “I’d rather wear a wrinkled shirt than have Dane point out that I’m in one of your shirts.”
“But––“
“Let’s go,” you were a few steps away from the door as you held your hand out for him to take, “I want to pick a snack from the vending machine before the game.”
Shawn let out a sigh and grumbled something about how he loved seeing you in his shirts, but he still took ahold of your hand. The two of you walked out the dressing room as you pressed a kiss to his cheek.  A small smile overtook his face.
The two of you walked toward the backstage part of the arena where the vending machines were held.  You brought up a finger to your chin, debating on what snack to pick, as the vending machine lights illuminated your face.  Once you decided what snack you wanted, you pressed a knuckle to the letter L and then to the number 3.
You watched with excitement as the circular black rings slowly pushed your snack forward.  And then as it was finally tipping over the edge, you smiled as the bag fell with a soft fmmp as it reached the bottom of the machine.  You let go of Shawn’s hand to retrieve your snack from under the plastic black flap.
“Cheetos?” Shawn questioned just as you stood up and opened up the bag with a loud crinkle, “If I’d known you’d want Cheetos, I could’ve like added it to my rider and it would’ve been in the dressing room for you.”
You shrugged your shoulders as you held out the bag, offering your Cheetos to Shawn.  He dug his hand into the bag and took one out.  He popped it into his mouth with a loud crunch as he closed his eyes, “God, it’s been forever since I’ve had these.”
Shawn led you out of the vending machine room as you continued to share your Cheetos with him, “I remember having them as a snack after soccer games,” you shared, “You know how parents would sign up to bring snacks after games? I feel like every parent would buy that big value size pack of like twenty-four different chips, and I––“ you licked your fingers that were covered in Cheeto dust, “––Always picked Cheetos.”
Shawn tilted his head back in laughter as he pushed open a back exit door and held it open for you to walk through, “I was always more of a Fritos guy.”
You scrunched your nose up, “Fritos?”
“They’re good!” Shawn defended himself as the people from the tour crew, who were playing in the soccer match, came into view, “Don’t knock ‘em ’til you try ‘em.”
You scoffed, “There are literally dozens of other chips you could chose from,” you stopped walking when you and Shawn came up to the sideline his ‘team’ was on, “Doritos, Lays, Chex Mix––“
“Hey, Y/n!” Your eyes widened as you heard Dane yell out your name.  His feet hit the pavement hard as he ran over, “Glad you could make it––fully clothed.”  While he was talking in a calm soft voice, not raising it to cause suspicion, it still made Andrew’s head perk up.
“You caught them?” Andrew looked up from tying his shoes at Dane.
You blushed as Shawn’s manager looked between the two of you and then back at Dane as you tried to defend yourself, “He didn’t really see anything––“
“See any of what?” Brian had jogged over and started to stretch, lunging on his left leg as he reached down to touch the toes on his right foot.
“It was nothing––“
“Just Shawn and Y/n going at it in the dressing room,” Dane shrugged as he gave you a wink, “Boyfriend, girlfriend stuff.”
Andrew’s shoulders slumped as he reached over to his bag and pulled out a ten dollar bill and handed it to Dane, “I’m his day-to-day,” Andrew grumbled, “Can’t believe it was the merchandise manager who caught you two first.”
You stood there dumfounded, hand frozen in your bag of Cheetos.  You and Shawn kept your relationship as private as possible––private from the media, your social medias, and made sure to keep your PDA to a minimum when you visited him on tour.  So it was a bit comical to see how intrigued Andrew and Dane were in catching the two of you.
Brian straightened up from his stretching and held a fist out toward Shawn, “Sweet, man––Just like Denver last tour?”
Your bag of Cheetos dropped to the ground, the little you had left of your snack spilled, covering the pavement with an artificial orange color.  You felt the heat of your oncoming blush rise up to your cheeks.  With Brian being Shawn’s best friend, you had an inclination that he knew some––if not most––of your sexual relationship with Shawn.  Which you were fine with because you told your best friend almost everything.
But it was always a topic you never discussed between the two of you.  It was mutually understood that while you talked to your best friend’s about each other, you would never talk about it directly to each other.  Shawn talked to Brian about you; You talked to your best friend about Shawn.  But never would your best friend bring it up in front of Shawn.  And never––did you think––Brian would bring it up in front of you.
The same thought seemed to be stirring within Shawn’s head as his eyes widened for a second.  He was only shocked for a split second more before he let out a chuckle and returned the fist bump to Brian and chose to ignore his comment about what happened Denver, “Thanks, man.” 
“Thanks man?!” You turned to face Shawn who had an amused smirk on his face.  
You weren’t mad at the display of masculinity in front of you, in fact, you saw the humor in it, but it was still embarrassing having your boyfriend be congratulated in front of you for hooking up.
The sound of a high pitch whistle echoed off the pavement.  With the sound of the start whistle, and players heading toward the makeshift field, it took away any chance you had of laying into Shawn more.  
Brian ran away laughing, escaping the choice words you had for him, which just left you with Shawn.  You crossed your arms over your chest stubbornly and tore your head away from Shawn as he lifted a finger under your chin to try and get you to look at him.
“Good luck kiss?”
With a playful sigh, you leaned up on your tip toes to press a peck to Shawn’s smile.  His eyes were still closed when you pulled away and his smile grew wider, “You love me.”
“Unfortunately,” you said as you couldn’t fight Shawn’s contagious smile, “I love you a lot.”
Shawn let out a laugh as a few people hollered at him to come over, “How unfortunate for me,” he pressed another quick kiss to your lips before he started to walk backwards toward the game that had started without him, “Are you free tonight?”
You leaned your weight on your left leg as you tapped a finger on your cheek, “Hm…I’m watching my boyfriend sing at a little show,” Shawn stopped walking backwards, his full attention on you, and showed all his teeth in a grin, “But I’m free after.”
“It’s a date,” Shawn said before he spun around and ran toward the soccer ball.
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marveloussupernerd · 3 years
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Could I pretty please request Zen and MC ~platonically~ getting hammered together and just getting into shenanigans? I’m a ✨lesbian✨ and still reslly would love to have these characters as best friends, especially zen because he seems like such a ride or die. If I could have one wish it would be getting plastered with Zen and him making sure I don’t die. Thank you in advance and feel free to reject this one lol
Yes !!! Ofc I can do that :) also I have literally never rejected a request LMAO I’m here for your enjoyment. I’m rlly excited to write this bc everyone is SLEEPING on zen and also ?? The Zen friendship content in Jumin’s route? I’ll never shut up about how much I love it. Also I threw Yoosung in here too pls don’t hate me
Clubbing - Platonic! Zen
Warnings: alcohol (duh lmao)
Summary: you’ve had a rough day at work. Zen’s been meaning to show you around to some of his favorite bars. Zen’s responsible but also wouldn’t hesitate to punch a bitch if need be. Yoosung has to clean up after your messes
Oh! Also. PSA, I’m 19. So have I ever gone out and gotten drunk... no LMAO. I do drink (it’s legal where I’m at as long as you’re with your parents, still wouldn’t be able to drink in a bar though) but only enough to get buzzed usually. Anyway if this is inaccurate that’s why I am so sorry LMAO
You honestly had had the worst day today. It was a pretty bad week, truth be told, and you were so grateful it was the weekend. You texted Zen a lot throughout this week; the two of you had become close friends since the RFA party and hung out almost every weekend. Hearing all about your bad days, he suggested taking you to a bar to let off some steam and give you something to look forward to. You’d never turn down a drink.
You took an Uber to the bar, as did Zen. You expressed your desire to get plastered and Zen agreed wholeheartedly. You had never been to this bar before, but Zen swore by it, so you trusted him.
“Hey!” Zen exclaimed as he saw you get out of the car. He was leaning against the wall of the bar coolly, dressed in the leather jacket he must have pulled out of his closet from the time he was in a motorcycle gang.
“This better be worth the commute,” you teased, not letting him live down the fact that it took almost an hour to get here (primarily due to traffic honestly).
“Oh it will,” he had a giant grin on his face. “I’ve been so busy I haven’t been here in a while, but i doubt it’s changed.” He pushed himself off the wall and made his way inside alongside you. “It’s right outside of a college so you get all the fun college students here.”
“Sounds messy,” you commented, glancing at some girls in skimpy crop tops and high-waisted shorts getting drunk already.
“Much better than bars for real adults. You’ve always got some guy moping over a glass of whiskey in those. Here, it’s all singing and dancing and getting drunk. Of course, I only come when I want to get completely hammered, but it’s always fun. The kids are nice too.”
It was at this point that you reminded yourself that Zen was only 23. He seemed so much older because he’s been on his own for so long, but nope, he was 23. The same age as a lot of the grad students here. So partying with them was not weird or creepy in any sort of way. In fact, the students probably were over the moon to party with someone so famous and, if they weren’t aware of who he was, handsome.
“So what do you typically start with here?” You asked, wanting to get the full experience.
“Shots. Classic move, especially for the med school students. You’ll see them soon enough. They start off with fireball but then make their way down to the cheapest vodka they have as they get more drunk and can’t actually taste it.”
“Let’s follow their influence,” you suggested. Zen went up to the bar and ordered some shots, bringing four glasses back with him. “Do they normally do two at once?” You asked.
“Nah, they’re way too broke for that. But I thought it’d be fun.” He handed you your shot glass and clinked his against it. You gulped down the shot, feeling the familiar fire burn in your throat. (I love fireball LMAO) You shook your head vigorously to counteract the burn, as though that would help, then looked back at Zen. “Good?” He asked.
“Perfect. Round 2?”
“Already?”
You laughed. “Well, it’s here isn’t it? The faster we can get drunk the better.”
You got drunk pretty fast. Zen was constantly handing you drinks, which of course you didn’t turn down. Maybe it was because the two of you hadn’t gotten drunk in a while, but this one hit you hard.
“Will you sing karaoke with me?” Zen chuckled, his cheeks flushed from all the alcohol in his system.
You laughed out loud. “Sure. I’ll even let you pick the song.”
You did not expect him to pick “Before He Cheats” but honestly? A banger of a song. Who doesn’t know all the words to this song?? “Hey, I’m Zen, and this is my best friend,” he slurred out, introducing you before the song started.
You sang in unison, the first instrumental break coming out. “This is for my asshole ex!” You cheered. The college students cheered with you.
“And all my old managers who told me I’d never make it!” Zen added. Everyone cheered again. You walked over to him, tripping on the microphone cord. He caught you a few inches off the ground.
“That would’ve hurt like a bitch,” you commented, bursting into laughter again. He helped you up and held your hand as you crossed over the wires this time, ensuring you wouldn’t get caught again.
Was your performance good? Probably not. Even Zen, who usually sang pretty well, was some sort of hot mess since he was so drunk. But the drunk students seemed to enjoy it, so you padded off the ‘stage’, proud of yourself.
Some dude called your name. Ew. Maybe Zen shouldn’t have introduced you.
Zen whipped around to face him. “If you so much as look at her right now I swear to God I’ll knock you into- Yoosung?”
“Hi!” You turned around to see the origin of the voice; it was indeed Yoosung. “You guys are kinda drunk.”
The two of you simply laughed, brushing him off. “What are you doing here?” Zen asked.
“Oh, well I live right down the street.”
“Oh my goodness you are a college student!” You observed keenly. You were connecting so many dots.
“Yup. Uh, I had an LOLOL event tonight but was super tired, so I thought I’d come and take a shot and it’d help wake me up. Never expected to see you two belting out Carrie Underwood.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Oh! I have a great idea,” Zen exclaimed, focusing his attention on you.
“I’d love to hear it.”
“Why don’t we just crash at Yoosung’s place tonight? We won’t have to pay for an Uber at high time and get stuck in traffic!”
Yoosung’s eyes widened. “But-“
“That’s pretty smart,” you agreed, nodding. “What do you think Yoosung?”
“I-“ he sighed. “I guess it’s okay. As long as I can play LOLOL.”
“Yay!” You cheered. “We can go now. Lead the way.”
Yoosung hesitantly led you out to the street, walking ahead of the two of you, glancing back every few seconds to ensure you hadn’t died. Zen wrapped an arm around you and you one around him, and you stumbled down the street together, only slightly more stable than you would have been if it were just you on your own.
Luckily Yoosung lived on the first floor. You weren’t sure you’d be able to do steps right now. He unlocked the door to his apartment. “I only have like... a bed and a couch,” he muttered awkwardly. “But we can figure something out.”
You stepped into his apartment, looking around. “Wow Yoosung! This is cute as hell.”
“Uh, thanks, I think.”
You made your way to his couch and collapsed down on it. Zen did so on the other end of the couch at the same time, your legs bumping into each other. You both shifted so that your legs were on top of his so that it was more comfortable.
“Is that really comfortable? You can take my bed,” Yoosung offered.
“Nah, this is great. Will you get us a blankie though?” You asked. Yoosung left to go find something. Zen shrugged off his leather jacket. You were very happy you wore something comfy enough to crash in.
Yoosung draped a blanket over the two of you, his face bright red. “Is this okay?”
“Perfect! Thanks Dad,” Zen joked. Yoosung’s face got even more red, his ears heating up now too.
“Night Yoosungie. Don’t stay up all night,” you commented, shutting your eyes.
You heard something set down on the coffee table. Cups of water and Advil. He was too sweet. “I have class in the morning, so feel free to see yourself out whenever you’re up and ready tomorrow,” Yoosung said. “Goodnight you two.” He chuckled to himself. You and Zen probably looked like absolute idiots, but not that you cared. You had a great night out. Good thing Dad Yoosung was there too.
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knightmathias · 4 years
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task 01: spring play audition ( macbeth ) !
notes: don’t give him macbeth thank u i want him to go batshit LMAO im kidding but rlly dont give him macbeth
i also couldn’t figure out how to put this in organically but mathias def knows that a LOT of the others are gunning for macbeth too!!! but he’s never been worried bc he knows for sure he’s always going to get the lead roles so he never really thinks about anyone else, i think it’ll be great for him to not only NOT get macbeth but not even a really big role full stop ? i don’t think it makes sense for heidi to give him a SMALL role maybe bc he IS technically really fuckin good but i also dont think heidi think it’s Best to give him a huge role anyway like she can see the Laziness in him and “acting for the wrong reasons” / not improving as an actor bc he’s never been in the spot to need to!!!!!!
Calling it a problem sounded so serious, you think derisively. Your hands are brushing over the small packet of coke you’ve placed on the desk, eyebrows furrowed. You’ve got ten minutes until your audition, and whilst Heidi doesn’t seem to be the type of person to appreciate tardiness, you’re not used to bending yourself to follow the rules. So you’ll be late. Big deal.
Calling it a problem, you continue thinking, getting your thoughts back on track. Calling it a problem was silly. An addiction would come in the form of your sister Ana, who could never stop herself. And even then, she’s fine. High every time you see her these days, maybe, but she’s fine -- Bad things don’t happen to the Knights. Only good things. Only good things.
Still, you sweep the bag into your desk drawer instead, out of sight. You don’t need it right now, the temptation was just a little too much when you have the bag in front of you; you’re certainly not nervous about this audition at all. Sure, you haven’t really worked on practising much -- but you never do, right? And sure, you’ve been more distracted as of late -- falling in and out of [the statue’s] bed, preoccupied by Orson’s death. But you either have the star quality or you don’t, it’s what your parents have always taught you. Working hard is good, but it’s for the ones that don’t have it, who want what you have. You’ve run through your lines a few times, you know it’s going to be good.
( And sure, you’ve taken to drinking more and smoking more and done a few more lines lately than would be considered smart. But you don’t talk about that. You don’t even think about that. What’s too much? What’s too far? When is enough enough when you’ve been like this, been around this, your whole life? It’s the glamourous life of theatre, baby, it’s just show biz. )
You take your phone out of your pocket to check the time. 4 minutes. Plenty of time then.
There’s a glass filled halfway of vodka and Coke on your bed stand, not quite finished from the night before. You pick it up and down it, even though it’s gone flat by now. The alcohol to take the edge off, but you won’t admit there’s an edge to you anyway. Liquid luck instead, maybe, but when have you ever needed luck? For the enjoyment, then, is what you reason. Why waste perfectly good alcohol?
By the time you arrive, Heidi’s voice cuts to you, unimpressed. “You’re twelve minutes late.”
“Had to make sure my hair was pretty,” you say charmingly, the cheek usually endearing to others. Orson would’ve loved your response, would’ve grinned and joked back, would’ve said something about the importance of appearance on stage. Orson would’ve ---
But it’s not Orson. It’s Heidi, and she doesn’t seem to think you’re being funny at all. 
“I think it’s best if you just start, since you’re running late.”
But you’ve already made your way onto the stage.
"Mathias Knight,” you say, stage voice on. Your teeth glint white in the light as you flash a professional smile, but Heidi doesn’t seem to return it. “I’m auditioning for the role of Macbeth. I’ve chosen to do Macbeth’s speech from Act 2 Scene 1 -- Enjoy.”
There’s no surprise on Heidi’s face at your announcement of choice, but you don’t let it deter you. Of course it’s predictable, to go for Macbeth and to do this scene, but does it matter what you audition with, when your talent will showcase either way? You want Macbeth and you’re going to get it, you always do. There was no point putting in more work than its worth, when performing Macbeth’s most famous soliloquy did the same job.
Heidi nods, so you take a deep breath and settle into your role effortlessly. You’ve heard the others talk about needing to have an emotional connection to the role they’re playing, and you’ve never quite understood it -- you’ve played characters you could hardly even fathom being similar to, but you’ve played them excellently nonetheless. Acting, for you, is not about the emotion, or the personal, or the leaving of your body behind. It’s about the skill and the technique and the way you perform it -- because that’s what it is, isn’t it? It’s a performance. It’s a performance and you’re conscious of that fact every moment you are on that stage, your own kingdom. You connect with the characters because you need to, but it’s always been on that surface level, knowing you are playing them. You are not Macbeth. That much is clear. But you’re a damn good actor.
“Is this a dagger which I see before me, / The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee...”
You’ve never known fear, or delusion, like Macbeth in this scene -- but that’s never been why you’re so good. You can push passion and emotion out of your voice so well that no one could ever see the difference, you can bend and contort your face in the same anguish and people will believe it. What is a tragedy to someone who’s never experienced the bad? It’s just: tragedy. It’s a word. It means nothing.
( Tragedy: a play dealing with tragic events and having an unhappy ending, especially one concerning the downfall of the main character. )
( Of course you’re the main character, you’re always the main character. There’s nothing forgettable about the way you hold yourself, the way you speak, the way you move. The downfall of the main character. But you’ve not done anything wrong, have you? You didn’t murder Orson. What’s the worse crime you’ve committed? A few stolen grams of coke? Petty thievery, small crime -- who is hurting from your lack of consequences? No one. You were born indestructible. You’re pretty sure you’re going to die that way too. )
( An unhappy ending. Darling, your story is hardly far from over yet. )
When you finish the soliloquy, that powerful feeling that settles in your bones every time you perform, you half-expect an applause. You were objectively good and there’s no other way that that could be twisted. Instead, you look out and only meet Heidi’s eyes, facial expression unreadable. For a moment, you’d forgotten, waiting for Orson to tell you how brilliant you were. 
But Orson wasn’t here. Isn’t it funny it only hits you in the gut every time you want something from him? His approval felt like an applause from an adoring crowd. His approval confirmed everything you’ve ever known about yourself, and you didn’t realise you craved it so badly until you were faced with the absence of it.
Several beats of silence. You’re waiting for her to say something, but when she doesn’t, you say, “So?”
Finally, Heidi shrugs. “It was an impressive performance. Truthfully, one of the best I’ve seen today.”
At that, you square your shoulders, basking in the compliment. What’s the best part of acting for you? You’ve heard others say things like slipping out of their own body and mind, into someone else’s. No, for you, you bleed yourself out on stage for this: the roaring approval.
But Heidi isn’t done talking. She adds, “I just don’t know if it’s enough.”
You blink. “Pardon me, but what?”
“What do you think about when you’re acting on stage, Mathias?”
The question takes you by surprise. “I think -- I think about the role I’m playing.”
Heidi shakes her head. “The thing is -- I just don’t think you do. I think you’re thinking about the praise you’ll get.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” You don’t have a bad temper, you’ve never been forced to. But irritation ignites within you, an uncomfortable and unfamiliar feeling. 
She considers you for a moment, and you’ve never felt self-conscious in your life, least of all on a stage. She considers you for a moment, and you feel suddenly very naked, like she’s looking at something deep within you and she’s not liking what she sees.
“Thank you for your time, Mathias,” she says abruptly.
“No,” falls out of your mouth first, because you’re not used to being dismissed, not used to failing. She said it was one of the best performances she’s seen today, but suddenly it doesn’t feel enough. 
Her eyebrows raise.
“You said it yourself that I’m good,” you say hurriedly. “I’m the best, and you know it. You can dislike me all you like --”
“Mathias, I don’t dislike you --”
“But I know I’m good,” you continue, as if uninterrupted. “When I’m on that stage, it doesn’t matter who likes me as Mathias and who doesn’t; all that matters is that the audience does. I’ve been playing the lead my whole life for a reason, and they’ll all call it arrogance, but there’s nothing wrong in knowing that I’m good. That I’m the best. Who cares if I’m connecting emotionally to the characters? I’m one of the best actors on this program and it’s for a reason, and I’m sorry it’s not the reason you want it to be, but talent is a reason in itself. That’s what Orson told me. Orson said I have what it takes. Orson said I was going to do big things. Orson said --”
“Mathias,” Heidi cuts off neatly, and there’s something in her voice that you can’t place. Pity, maybe? But you’ve never been pitied before. What is there to pity in you? You’re the star. You’re always the fucking star. “I’m not Orson.”
The sentence guts you in a way it shouldn’t, and you blink at the aftermath of your outburst. 
“Thank you for your time, Mathias,” she says again, firmer. 
This time, you move off the stage, towards the door. The only thing you can think about is how badly you need a drink.
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