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#besides it’s probably just be a way to get yellow dye
Note
I love the colors on your rainbow kippah, who did you order it from?
I got it from this etsy store. I loved that it was crochet (I'm horrible with MCs, I'm a beginner in making clothes), there is a visible seam in the kippah where the rainbow is, which I think is cool honestly, but I know many people are bothered by that sort of thing. It looks like they also have other "themes," too, and if I get another kippah from them, I'm looking at their gold-colored one 👀
Here is the seam in question, but honestly, you can just put the seam where nobody will see it (plus this gives you an idea of the colors themselves because that's one of my favorite parts of it):
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Here is a direct link in case the one above is not working for you:
https://www.etsy.com/shop/GreenethingsBoutique
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akaipepo · 2 years
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Skye Augustus's Profile
'I was expecting you. Let's go.'
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Profile inspo: @oseathepebble [i lub u verv muc mua mua]
Assets: @/alchemivich
More Information Below
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Technical Information
Name: Skye Augustus
Japanese: スカイ オーガスタス
Other Names:
August (Nickname)
Herbivore (Leona)
Shrimp (Floyd)
Trickster (Rook)
Child of Man (Malleus)
Skyyyeeee (Cater)
Voice Claim: Yusuke Kobayashi
Biographical Information
Gender: Male
Pronouns: He/Him
Sexuality: Non-confirming
He doesn't prioritize romantic life at the moment, nor does he care to understand better about his preferences.
Age: 18
He had already entered University before getting unknowingly transported to the world of Twisted Wonderland.
Birthday: December 24
Starsign: Capricorn
Height: 170 cm (5'6)
Eye Color: Golden Yellow
Hair Color: Lavender, Steel Blue
He had hazel colored hair, though it seemed to changed into vibrant unnatural colors after his transportation to Twisted Wonderland. He plans to dye it back to its original color when he can.
Homeland: Edinburgh, Scotland, United Kingdom
Family: Father (Deceased), Mother, Older Sister, Anakin (Pet Kitten)
Professional Status
Dorm: Ramshackle Dorm
School Year: Year 13 (Original World), Year 1 (NRC)
Class: 1-A, Student No. 9
Occupation: Student, Dorm Leader / Prefect
Club: Track & Field
Along with Jack and Deuce, he joined for the purpose of strenghtening his stamina, as his goal is to break past his limit. So when he returns to his original world, he could become a professional boxer just like his father.
Best Subject: Art
Since art was the only subject that doesn't require much mental effort to him, its certain he'd have mastered it. Though most of his paintings appear to be gloomy and void, cloud paintings are his best works. They look exactly as if it was a photograph pasted onto a canvas. Painting was also a way for him to let out his negative feelings and thoughts, which explains the reason why most of his personal artworks are empty spaces and abstract-like.
Chibi
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Fun Fact
Dominant Hand: Left
Favorite Food: Egg Fried Rice
A simple yet delicious dish that got him through his first year during University in his original world. He learned to cook this dish from his asian uncle, a few years before he had to move to Edinburgh to further his studies.
Least Favorite Food: Broccoli
There's no explanation to his hatred for broccolis.
Dislikes: Disturbance
Considering he never got a break from his overthinking mind and the events happening throughout his life, it would be understandable if he despises someone disturbing him while he rests, which by that i mean reading. It's probably worse if someone were to disturb him when he's angry.
Hobby: Reading
Reading helps to distract his mind, especially if he's stressed or not in the right mindset. Besides, he gets to learn more about the world he's currently stuck in.
Talent: Sixth Sense
He was gifted a unique ability the day he was born. Never missing a step on every task given to him and being aware of danger beforehand were all thanks to it. Though just like every person with this strong sensation of being able to see things, his mostly relied on vision and instinct. His sharp instinct also helped him carve a path to his life goal: becoming a professional boxer.
As much as people glorifies having this 'gift', his everyday life only became hell as he grew older. He became pessimistic and insomniac over the years for the sake of preparing for the worst each time the sensation kicks in. Pushing them away almost never works because the more he ignores them, the more he loses his mind, overthinking and imagining worst case scenarios, hence resulting in a panic attack. The only time he managed to ignore his 'gut feeling' was the day before he was mysteriously transported to Twisted Wonderland.
A side effect to this ability is not being able to tell between common anxiety/excitement and sensing danger as they both have similar or if not the same symptoms. Getting distracted by other thoughts will also refrain Skye from being able to use his ability.
Ever since he was transported to the Twisted Wonderland, his ability somewhat 'twisted' and adapted to this unknown place, and hence the visions he saw every night was confusing to him. And being able to see the visions clearer also means having quality sleep so he has no choice but to force a routine to sleep well.
Coffin Icon
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Golden colored eye to represent his unique ability.
Clouds streaming down the eye as to imply his constant dreams where he got most of the predictions from.
Appearance
He may seem average, but thick layers of his school uniform had covered his apparently toned physique, which he built up over the years after learning to wrestle. He has pale skin and a few moles scattered around his face, one being the shape of an upside down heart. He has lavender fading to steel blue, long and slightly wavy hair, with bangs covering half of both eyes. He hasn't cut his hair for a very long time and probably will never cut it.
He wears his NRC uniform neatly. It includes a grey vest with golden lining, specially customized to fit with Ramshackle Dorm's theme. He wore a dormitory armband, the shape of a bow with black and white stripes, though the inspiration was taken from Grim's ribbon. He used the same ribbon for his hairband, which is the shape of a bow as well.
Personality
His facial expression alone says enough what kind of a person he is; a not so bright, quiet guy who just wishes to get out of this place as soon as possible. Though he doesn't mind lending a hand for every task given by Crowley or if his fellow Heartslabyul mates get into trouble for the hundredth time, ignoring an unnecessary request is something he'd often do.
When people say he's ruthless, they meant as in 'being brutally honest'. He won't sugarcoat or refine his words in a more passive-aggressive tone, he just straights up tell you his opinions and thoughts which most of them are usually negative. Its no wonder to why he can't have friends.
He genuinely enjoys company but doesn't show it. It's difficult for him to make friends because of his unfriendly attitude, but i suppose a few competitive lads would take the challenge.
Powers And Abilities
Having a natural unique ability isn't the only thing he has up his sleeves. Considering he's been trained to boxing almost his entire life, self defense is no problem to him if it doesn't include magic.
Background
A depressed boy going to Uni, and living with his older sister in Edinburgh, Scotland. Feeling disconnected from people around him, Anakin, a 5 months old kitten was his only friend. Skye's father passed away from a car accident during his 14th birthday, and his mother still held him accountable for his death. If he had stopped him from going out that day, maybe things would've been different.
Skye used to be a school bully, from both primary school to middle school, though it was mostly just him wanting to fistfight with anyone since the training with father wasn't enough. Even though he broke multiple school rules, he was still pretty caught up with his academics. It was until the age of 14 he stopped picking fights due to the recent loss of his father. You could say he was too depressed to do anything, even moving was a heavy task. After a few months, he came back to school but slightly different. He wasn't as chaotic or energized anymore, but he still would pick fights only if the person starts the argument.
His relationship with his mother is rather rocky, and also distant. She still blamed him for her husband's death, as he was their 'fortune teller'.
His depression and anxiety had led him to have sleepless nights, even if he was tired, he chose not to sleep due to feeling uncomfortable and prefers to overwork himself with uni assignments and nigh shift jobs. But on one particular night after work, his body was weak so he decided to lie down, took a last deep breath and closed his eyes before falling deep into the void of quietness and peace. The first time in years, he was finally able to sleep well.
The peacefulness didn't stay long, as he was disturbed by loud bangs and thuds. That's when he decided to burst out of what it seems to be a coffin, and realizes he'd been brought to another location, or perhaps another universe. Why? And how? We'll find out soon enough.
Notable Relationships
this will eventually change as the story progresses.
Ace Trappola- After the amount of times he's dragged Skye into trouble, they eventually got along. Even close friends, perhaps. He won't hesitate to punch Ace in the face if he annoys him though.
Deuce Spade- I suppose one thing they have in common is that they were both ex-bullies. Still chaotic, but at least he's much more tolerable than the cat and the red-head.
Grim- Still irritated by Grim's recklessness, but sometimes treats him like a baby as much as he treats Anakin like one.
Dire Crowley- Despite his irresponsibility and arrogance, Skye still sees him as a father figure, solely because he reminded him of his deceased father.
Jack Howl- Respects him as his wrestle buddy. Also likes the fact he isn't the only person who feels the need to be direct and not sugarcoat anything. Also woah fluffy tail.
Cater- Pretty-I Mean Bitch boy. Skye finds Cater very annoying because he won't shut up about magicam trends and internet slangs. He does pity him for his desperation for attention though, lad must've been neglected so bad.
Trivia
His eyes are somewhat luminescent, which means they work as personal flashlights. (joke)
He often kept his visions a secret for the sake of wanting to see shit going down, only if its not dangerous that is.
He can sometimes be found doing pen tricks during class.
Asking him to sing is like asking to deafen your ears.
He can't force a smile, only naturally.
Skye wrestled with Jack instead of a magic duel during Book 2 Chapter 19. They had a tie but Jack respected his strength and hence gave them information.
He doesn't like cold colors, and yet his hair was blue to purple which he finds ironic.
Bonus Icon
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its-tiamat · 2 years
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|| CHANGING PLANS 5 ||
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Mina is kind of a little shit in this chapter, and I love her for it. Bakugo is acting nicer than usual???
Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo × fem!reader
Warnings: Swearing (#LetBakugoSayFuck)
CHAPTER 1 ♧ NEXT
materlist
You stayed there staring at the ceiling in Mina's room for a while, even when the boys had been shooed away by the girl.
"This is it," you whined.
"Oh, come on," said Mina. She was slouching on her chair, with both feet on the desk, and you raised an eyebrow when you realized the math book was opened beneath them. At least she was wearing socks, you thought.
She didn't seem to mind it, and went on with her ramble: "At least your new boyfriend doesn't know anything about this little gamble. And I swear, nobody's gonna tell him, we're all way too scared of him."
"Please Mina." You covered your face with your right arm. "Stop calling Bakugo that."
"Yeah, whatever, if you two don't get together by the end of the year I'm gonna-" Mina pouted, pondering her words. "I'm gonna dye my hair yellow."
"You should take that back," you said, "or at least change color. I doubt yellow would suit you."
"How about teal?"
You snorted. "Teal is a bit better. You should already buy the dye."
"Nah, I believe in you two."
It was almost dinnertime, but you didn't feel hungry at all. All your emotions felt like a knot around your stomach, and looking at your classmates' faces knowing they were all playing wingman with you. And of course, looking at your teacher's would have been even worse.
Naturally, Mina noticed your lack of appetite, and guessing the reason behind it was a piece of cake. She put on her shoes and walked towards the door, but then stopped and sat down beside you.
"I get you aren't hungry, just come downstairs and try to eat something ok? You know skipping meals isn't good for your health."
"It's just for today," you tried to argue, "just for a meal. It can't be that unhealthy, right?"
"I wouldn't take the risk if I were you." She said.
"Well, if I were me – which I unfortunately am – I'd stay here" you chuckled "plus, it's probably good for my psychological health to stay here if you think about it."
Mina hit your arm. "You can't hide in my room for the next two years, girl."
"Or can I?" You laughed.
Mina rolled her eyes back in desperation, and groaned your name before laying down beside you. "Do whatever the hell you want, god you are so stubborn I can't believe it."
Silence fell in the room while you both lied on your backs, looking up above you. Mina broke the silence first: "Well, it really is a nice ceiling. I never noticed it before. I could paint something on it for you if you're gonna spend that much time staring at it." she teased.
"Oh Mina you are soooo funny, tell me when you are over with your bullshit so I know when to lau- Ow. Stop punching me." You punched her back.
"Wanna know who found out first?" she asked.
You furrowed your brow. "Found out what?"
"That you liked Bakugo, you dummy!" Just when you thought the embarrassment was over.
"It was Sero," she continued, mindlessly, "he doesn't look like it but he's quite the sensitive type."
"Is he now?" you asked. You had never spoken to Sero that much, he looked like a funny guy but he didn't talk a lot. Maybe he preferred to listen to others. Maybe that's why he had noticed you-
"I swear he is! He didn't want to be involved in Kiri's plan tho, he said it would've been better if we left you two alone. He and Kaminari almost got in a fight over that." Mina laughed.
"Sensitive and sensible, I see," you said, "I like that in a man."
"Girl," said your friend turning to look at you, "you clearly do not."
~
Bakugo was already halfway through his dinner when he realized how fast he was eating. Gulping down food like that? Was it nervous eating? He wasn't even tasting his meal.
You hadn't come downstairs for dinner. Well, what was he supposed to do about that? It was your damn business wether you wanted to eat or not.
"You angry at something bro?" Kirishima had sat down beside him.
"I'm fine." he answered, and tried to chew his food slower. Now that he was thinking about it, he hadn't seen any of those useless extras for the whole afternoon. Was it another prank? They must have felt so stupid after the one they had tried to pull in the morning failed so miserably.
"Where are all the others?"
Kirishima's mouth was full of salad, all managed to utter was: "Huh?"
"The other idiots. Where are they?"
"I have no idea. The girls are staying upstairs tho, Mina told me they weren't feeling too well."
So that's where you were. Bakugo went back to eating his meal, concealing his worries. Were you sick? Maybe you had spent too much time under the sun that morning, you shouldn't have skipped dinner in that case though. And you should have kept hydrated.
Who cared?
He only hoped it wasn't something contagious, he didn't have time for that.
"What about yellow hair?" he asked after a while.
"He said he had to talk to Jirou or something."
"Ears? Really?"
Kirishima laughed. "That's what he said, if you trust his word on it. I'd be surprised if something happened between them, honestly."
"I'd be surprised if something happened between him and any girl, honestly," scorned Bakugo. The redhead shrugged and went back to his salad.
That evening, the class voted for what to watch on tv, and to the boy's dismay the national orchestra concert had won. Literally anything else could have been better, even soap operas or prize games. But all votes had been scattered on different shows, and somehow the orchestra had received four votes. Bakugo sat on the couch only halfway through the introduction, before picking up a bowl and a bottle of water from the kitchen counter and loudly insulting whoever had chosen to vote for that thing.
~
Mina's math book was beside you, opened at a random page on the bed. You had picked it up hoping to have a distraction, but ended up playing with your friend's console instead. Mina was taking a shower, so you could finally enjoy some time by yourself, and maybe reflect. Why were you even acting like that? Your stomach growled, empty. You should have just pretended nothing happened and have eaten something.
Your friends acted childish, but you weren't any better if this was enough to burrow in Mina's room. Though honestly, hadn't it played in your favour in the end? It clearly couldn't be considered a proper date, but it was something right? What of he really had come with you just to be kind?
You heard a knock at the door.
"Come in!" Mina shouted from inside the bathroom. You got up and unlocked the door, almost falling to the ground when Katsuki barged in.
"MINA YOU BETTER TELL ME WHERE THE FUCK-" In the corner of his eye, Bakugo saw you still holding the door. "There you are!" he shouted, "why aren't you in your room huh?"
"Didn't know I needed your permit to go out of it, in the first place," you joked, a hint of nervousness in your voice, while closing the door behind you. "Plus, I was doing math."
He pointed at the book "That's the wrong page, just rest if you are too tired for homework. No need to look cool huh."
"Why are you-"
"I brought you food since you spoiled girls are too tired to go downstairs." The boy handed you a bottle of water and placed a bowl of fruit salad on the desk: "Also, if you really don't feel well you should drink water and try to sleep. Not play video games and hide them when-"
In that moment Mina opened the bathroom door, still I'm her robe, her eyes wide as they kept moving from your Katsuki to you. The boy looked away horrified: "Go put on something for fuck's sake! Come on!"
"Guess what, Bakugo," she answered, "you're the one that got in MY room! What are you even doing here?"
"I just brought food to her- I mean, to you two so stop yelling at me you idiot raccoon eyes." The two stared at each other, and you could feel the temperature in the room skyrocketing with the tension.
"Well," said Mina in the end, "I have to change now, so fuck off both of you." You raised your eyebrows. "Go away guys! And I'm not hungry so take away all that stuff." Mina pointed at the bowl, then at the door. Bakugo could do nothing but follow you, as the bowl was shoved in his hands and both of you got kicked out in the corridor.
"Mina, no," you tried to say, but your friend just winked at you before closing the door on your face.
"Oh well," you said, turning to look at the boy. He was fuming, and you could bet that the only thing keeping him from kicking down the door was the bowl of fruit he still held in his hands. "I'd really eat something, if you're ok with it. My room is that way."
"I know where your room is," he muttered.
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taglist: @ok-what-now-huh - @liberace2
tell me if u want to be added xoxo
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unknownjpegs · 2 months
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touch-up
His hair grows. Benji cuts it for him. 
“Bold fucking thing to say,” Benji snarks at him after a nasty joke at Benji’s expense. He scruffs Maran by the back of his t-shirt, gives him a shake that makes him jostle and laugh dramatically. “Could fuck your shit up right now, if I wanted.” 
The clippers are to the back of Maran’s neck, cold metal warmed by carefully repeated swipes over skin. They’re halfway done, but Benji could finish it right here. Leave him a partial mess: Maran’s criminally, terminally awful at giving himself a trim. Plus, this is part of the ritual. 
“You won’t,” he chirps confidently, stuffing another fistful of crisps into his mouth. “Love me too much. And besides, you’ll have to be seen with me. Too much second-hand embarrassment for you to handle, Benj.” 
He gets a soft, teasing swat to the back of his prickly scalp for that. It knocks a startled laugh out of him, mouth falling open so that a crumb drops into the dye on the table. Benji’s mixed it, but he’s got a shit eye for it so it’s a nasty yellow-green. Probably will clash something awful with his skin — doesn’t matter. It’ll grow out, and they’ll do this all again.
*
His hair grows out.
Not just the slight, gentle beginning of tight curls at his scalp, but proper growth. Starts to touch his ears, which is the absolute final straw. Except he’s shit at trimming it himself, and Benji — Benji…
His hair grows out, and Benji isn’t around to cut it, and Maran tries. He really, really does.
Benji tries as well, even though these days it seems like he doesn’t have to try for much at all. 
Because Benji has always been brutal, but he comes back as something else entirely. brutal. They’d both had a bit of a tough go at life: doing what they do with the knowledge they’ve got from the age they’d started (too young). The safety of humanity at what cost, a lost childhood, crushing responsibility, blah blah. Maran’s gone through that spiral enough in his short time alive to be tired of it. 
So no, the brutality isn’t what gets him. 
It’s how much more often, how much easier, Benji seems to find it. Tap in. Go elsewhere. Be…something. Maran has to work to get there. Has to pause before a punch, wind down the guilt and fear and sickness in his gut to make himself shed blood. Gets easier every time, and that’s what he’s scared of.
The ease is what scares him. Less than the snarl of a sharp fang, the crunch and squish of flesh — the lack of effort. 
And he sees that it scares Benji, too.
*
They give it a try a few times, and each is…not awkward, not really. It’s easy. Always is, with Benji. Always will be. But it’s never been easy like it is with — this new existence. If it can be called that. 
It frightens him. He would never admit that. He can imagine the look on Benji’s face if those words found their way up. If the truth sprung forth.
You scare me, Benji.
Makes him think, makes him consider things, makes him wonder. Mostly it makes him fear. He’s frightened by the tight, thoughtful, shamed pull of Benji’s brow when he twists a head from the body. When he licks blood off his fingers without a second fucking thought. When he puts too much power in a swing, moves too fast, reacts like a predatory thing instead of the prey they’ve always been together. Together.
Maran’s scared. Regardless, Maran tries. In the end, it’s not enough effort.
Or, honestly, maybe in the end it’s that he also finds it easy. That there’s no effort in looking at Benji and flinching.
*
“Got something,” Benji says one evening, gesturing to his temple. They’ve finished clearing an old warehouse that a nasty little trio of ferals has been inhabiting. Maran thinks they’re feral, anyway. Forces himself to think it. Kinda has to blur where that line spreads, because otherwise the look of fear in crimson eyes is recognizable. Relatable. . He knows how sour and encompassing fear feels, when it seems inescapable. It makes him as nauseous as the milky haze corpse-white glaze over one of their victims.
And fear is what he feels now, staring at his best friend.
Benji reaches up, jacket tucked around his fist. Reaches up towards his face, where Maran knows he’s only going for a streak of blood across his cheekbone, splattered over the fuzz on his scalp. It’s Benji. He’ll just brush it away, clean it off. But it’s not Benji, is it? Not really. Not him. Can’t be. Doing this, looking like that, tearing things apart, being a monster — 
Maran flinches. 
And Maran goes back to their flat alone, tears in his eyes as he opens the door. Because Benji’s not trailing loudly behind him. Not kicking his shoes messily at the wall. Not complaining about sore muscles or whinging about needing a smoke.
Maran had flinched. Benji had frozen. And Maran couldn’t look at his face after that. Head turned to the side, eyes pointed at the ground and squeezed shut. Prepared for a blow. Anticipating the pain.
When he’d opened them, Benji was gone.
Maran tried. He really, really had. 
*
His hair grows out. He cuts it himself, and it looks absolutely terrible.
Could fuck your shit up.
In a lot of ways, he stops trying. Benji is still gone. Flat is still half-empty. Maran fully alone. 
Well. Not fully. Just…mostly.
He’s not fully rotting, at least. Not autopilot through jobs he probably shouldn’t be taking alone. Has other hunters to run with now. Has friends, maybe. 
Lark opens the door with a grin, little shrug of his shoulder. Come on in, which is a funny sort of invitation to get from a vampire. And it’s a funny way for Maran to think of one in the first place, right? Because Lark’s friendly, fanged smile is all it takes for Maran to amend it to friends, definitely. Alone, until —
“Been at it?” Maran asks, gesturing to the mess of the living room. The shit coffee table has been upended and the couch cushions have gone flying all over. There’s a spilled Coke can on the ground, puddle of dark amber liquid soaking into the couch. 
“Xavier.” Lark says, rolling his eyes. The single word is a complete essay. “And —”
“Ben.” 
They share an exasperated grin. It feels like more. Like sharing an inside joke. You get it, I get it, we’re understanding this together. Maran’s not watching the loop close. He’s a link in the chain. Hanging around more often.
“Where—” he starts to ask, except Lark’s already sticking his thumb over his shoulder. 
“Just missed him. Went down to the corner for snacks.” He moves further into the flat, and Maran follows slowly as the space is made. A little wariness around Lark, even now — some habits are hard to break. 
He nods, looks haltingly at the couch, feels his cheeks heating when the vampire laughs. 
“Man, what have I told you?” Lark nudges him in the shoulder. No effort, but no strength to it either. Lark holds back, and Maran barely moves because it’s a gentle touch. 
Lark holds back. Because it’s Maran, and he’s human, and Lark doesn’t want to hurt him. Because they’re friends.
Maran blinks. The vampire misreads it, can’t hear the great thundering of an important realization as it bounces around Maran’s skull. He gets another scoffing laugh for his silence.  
“Mar,” he says affectionately, “go chill , ‘kay? I’m going out, but Benny’ll be back any second.” He holds out a fist, which Maran bumps absent-mindedly. “See you.”
“Right, yeah. See ya.” Maran responds, staring down at the grocery sack he’d brought along. Filled with his wallet, a few plastic containers of dye at varying fullness, and a pair of clippers. Benji had bought them for him. Birthday gift, along with a rainbow array of dye and some reusable gloves. 
Bin that disposable razor, mate. He can hear Benji’s airless, throaty laugh in his head. Your mum’ll kill me if she knew I was letting you roam about like some reject Trolls doll. 
He falls asleep like that, fist clenched around the handles of the bag. He doesn’t dream, but he wakes. Intended it to be just a nap that he’d get woken from. But when he wakes up, no afternoon light spills through the curtains. In fact, it’s gone fully dark out — and right hen, as he’s rubbing his temple, is when retro cat clock goes off. He’d bought it as a gift for Xavier, partially because the noise was so fucking grating.
Backfires now, thought. His ears ring.
“Fucking hell.” Maran sighs, tossing the bag to the ground. He drops back against the couch, heels of his hands digging into his eye sockets until color bursts.
“Losing it?”
Maran jumps, sitting upright as his head whips to the side.
Benny’s stood at the end of the couch. Looks like trouble, as always: ready-to-run slouch, a single eyebrow quirked, that signature grin on his face. Maran watches as he shrugs off his jacket and tosses it over the designated coat chair — the one Xavier’s always snipping at them to keep clear.
“Ah — huh?” He blinks up at the other man. 
“Once y-you start talking to yourself, there’s no going b-back.”
Benny drops a handful of chocolates into Maran’s lap — little silver foil wrapped ones. Benji calls it cheap, shit chocolate, but he likes them. Seems to be common knowledge.
He pops one into his mouth. Their knees knocked together as Benny sits next to him, arm slung over the back of the couch. Maran holds another up.
“Thanks. Was I talking in my sleep?”
Benny pauses a moment as he gets comfortable, then shrugs. “N-Not much. Nothing philosophical, don’t worry.”
Maran grins broadly. “Mate, trust me. Was not fuckin’ worried about that.” He deliberates over one of the chocolates before downing another two. “You knew I like these.”
It’s not quite a question, not quite an observation. Even if he isn’t waiting on an answer, Benny gives him one.
“Y-You got habits.”
It makes him grin wider, hearing something like that. He doesn’t think he has habits, but he supposes they might be obvious to someone else, if he’s being watched. He likes the idea of that. Being watched, having things that people pick up on, that they notice. Being watched, being understood. 
Lark isn’t interested when Maran’s introducing Xavier to binges of classic anime, but he does sneak peeks if their choice is some shit reality show. And even though Xavier can’t talk books, he’ll light up mega-watt bright if Maran dumps about his console repair side hustle, and listens when he talks about weapon mods.
Lark likes gossip more than he cares to admit, Xavier’s got a brain for detail and the mechanics,  and Benny — well, Benny’s got a lot of those things. Habits. 
Maran is thinking of several, becomes suddenly aware that he’s drifted, that he’s staring. He blinks several times, shakes his head and offers a sheepish laugh. 
“Sorry.” Hand up at his temple, he whistles.
Benny stares back, eyebrows raised. And Maran means to respond, but he feels thick-tongued suddenly. Even more so the longer Ben holds his gaze, expression flat as he works a toothpick between his teeth. Maran swallows, gestures again, feels stupid and strange.
“M-man, you are out of it today.” Benny notes, that jittery laugh cracking out of him. “Head wound?”
He slumps back against the couch with a heavy sigh. “Feels fuckin’ like it.”
“Should p-probably hold off on all that,” Benny teases, nudging the bag by their feet. “Ch-chemicals’ll seep into your fucking dome. Eat up all the b-brain cells you have left.”
Maran gives him a sneer, lip curled dramatically. Ben laughs, and that dry mouthed feeling comes back. He’s getting sick. Allergies, maybe? 
“Earth to Maran. I said: who was gonna dye it for you?” 
“Huh? Uh…no one.”
A beat.
“I’ll d-do it then. Save you the embarrassment of a shitty mirror-over-the-shoulder job.”
Another beat. Underneath the silence, Maran’s stomach clenches.
“All right. Can we order somethin’, though?” He follows a glance over to the counter, where a few bags of snack food from the convenience store sit. He pouts. “Naw, like. Nachos or something. Ooh. Or that pizza place? S’only a block — c’mon, I’ll call if you drive?”
Benny lasts longer against the eager, poking onslaught fingers that land on his arm, his side. And when he finally sighs — that I give up sort that means Maran’s pleaded his case proper — Maran responds with a whooping, dramatic cheer.
*
“She’s h-how old?”
“When she wins this tournament? Thirteen.” Maran answers around a mouthful of food. He smacks his hand down on his thigh, rubs the nacho cheese off on the napkin Benny had insisted on him taking. 
Maran is sat on the ground, his knees tucked up to push against the coffee table. They act as a table for the aluminum take-out container, which is so heavy it threatens to upend if he eats too much off one side.
Benny’s picking at his own food slow, on account for the trim and gloves on his hands, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s engrossed with the process, now. After the shave had come the deliberation over color, Maran’s toothy grin when he’d insisted on Ben mixing him something custom out of the options. 
(“You choose!” He’d chirped, plopping himself happily — with food and beverage in either hand — on the floor between Benny’s knees.)
He’d snuck a glimpse of the color in the glass bowl: dark, midnight blue. So deep a navy it looked black.
“I wasn’t expecting you to like this so much.” Maran shares, his eyes bouncing between either side of the screen. The soon-to-be-champion, a girl whose big brown eyes bug out from beneath he glasses, lands a nasty combo on her opponent. Maran jerks and cheers, fist pumping the air.
“Jesus — careful.” Ben’s fingers wrap around his shoulder, squeezing. His thumb digs into a spot on Maran’s neck that feels — he freezes in place, back straightening.
“Sorry.” Maran clips out, staring straight ahead. 
He no longer watches the movements of the fighting game characters on the screen. But…looks through it, eyes feeling too wide in his skull. After Benny carefully cleans up his hairline with a rag (fingers on the back of an ear causing his jaw to clench, his stomach to flip, to wonder maybe if the nachos were sitting wrong) they sit there in comfortable silence. He hears the occasional plastic click of the vape he’s trying to cajole out of Benny’s grasp, but not much else. Not the progress of the world’s youngest tournament winner, not even Ben’s own loud cheer when she finally brings home the last round to solidify that title.
Right as the Youtube video ends, a shrill beep makes Maran jump in place, shoulders up to his ears. It’s not Xavier’s shitty fucking clock — it’s the timer on his own phone.
“L-looks good. You g-gonna need help to wash it?“
“ThanksIcandoit!” Maran says. Except…actually, he sort of shouts, doesn’t he? His ears burn as he leaps to his feet, fists clenched at his side as he marches towards the bathroom as quickly as his feet will take him. 
The dye sits for another five minutes because he’s busy staring in the mirror, splashing water on his face, staring at the mirror, splash, stare, breathe, stare.
 And he only remember to wash it out when he drops his head back against the closed door. There’s a blue circle, like a painted sponge had been pressed against it. Later on, he’ll realize he secretly enjoyed leaving it, in a way  — proof that he’d been there, in the home of people he cared about, and someone had known him enough to pick a color they thought was beautiful.
*
Months later, when things have been repaired between them to the point that Benji will let him doze on his (cold, still) chest again, Maran feels fingers touch across his scalp.
“Shit’s busted,” Benji teases softly, plucking at a tight curl and pulling into it springs back into place. There’s no gaming tournament on in the background — instead they watch some punk  documentary that Maran will never admit is absolutely fucking boring. 
“Fuck you.” Maran mumbles, cheek smushed against his shoulder. “Your shit’s busted. Clown.”
“You’re gonna need a touch-up soon here, mate. Like, really, proper busted.” Another pull of his hair, so Maran slaps at his wrist until he yelps. “Be mean n’ I won’t bother.”
“Don’t, then.” Maran snipes back. “Found a new hair guy, anyway.”
Benji pauses. The documentary seems to grow louder, louder, until Maran realizes his heart has kicked up. That the background whoosh is his blood in his ears.”
“Oh did you?” Benji asks in a nasty voice, pushing Maran off his chest as he sits up. “Fuckin’ hell, Mar, s’that so? You got somebody like that? Hm — lemme guess, yeah? Lemme guess who —“
He cuts off into insane laughter, yelping as Maran paws and swipes at him, loose fists thumping against his shoulders, his chest. He’s so strange and solid; not in the human way, anymore, but close enough that it’s still Benji. It’ll always be Benji, he knows. Proof to the fucking point: he gets under Maran’s skin all the same.
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indigostreaking · 1 year
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Tag Game To Better Know You! Send this to people you’d like to know better!
I was tagged by @jake-kiszkas-smirk 🥰
What book are you currently reading?
When I get a chance to read, Heir Of Fire 🤭 thanks to @jake-kiszkas-smirk
What do you usually wear?
Jeans and tie dye, honestly. Sometimes obnoxiously yellow crocs, but usually a pair of chaco flip flops. I’ll throw on a flannel or hoodie if I’m cold 🤷🏼‍♀️
How tall are you?
My license says 5’2, but I’m probably closer to 5-5’1
What is your sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or historical event?
I’m a Capricorn, and I have the same birthday as Lin-Manuel Miranda and Alyssa Edwards.
Do you go by your name or a nickname?
Usually my name, but almost everyone shortens it 🤭🥰 it’s cute because everyone shortens it differently.
Did you grow up to be what you wanted to be as a child?
Um, I grew up to be independent, so kind of? But I really wanted to be a vet and I haven’t managed to make that happen, yet 😂
What is something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at?
I don’t want to sound full of myself because I promise I’m not..but I’m good at most things. I have always been creative and “gifted” 🙄 but I love crochet, tie dye, drawing, painting, coloring, writing, making edits, etc. I’m not great at sports unless they’re played on a console 😂
If you draw/write/create what’s your favorite thing you’ve ever created?
Ahhh that’s not a fair question 😩 I have a couple of tattoo designs that I drew forever ago that I’m really fond of, but I love everything in its own way 😅
Dogs or cats?
I’m gonna say dogs, because my dog is literally my soul mate 😂 but I love my little demon of a cat
What is something you would like to create content for?
Oh gosh, I would love to take up videography/photography in general. It would be cool to be involved in peoples’ important moments like weddings, anniversaries, births, etc. orrrr to be able to shoot music videos or social media content for bands/brands.
What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?
Greta is always my number one, but I’m really enjoying writing…I have adhd so my hobbies change weekly 😂
What’s something you were excited for and turned out to be disappointing?
Greta Van Fleet jk I’m just a little salty over the electric tomb. Probably men in general though 😂 except the one I have now is pretty great
What’s a hidden talent of yours?
Does sass count as talent? 🤷🏼‍♀️ I’m really good at it 😂
What’s something you wish you had this moment?
*sigh* besides Daniel Wagner? Probably a pineapple margarita…ooooh! or an Oreo mint milkshake from cookout 🤤
I’m gonna tag… @lunaindigoraven @gretavanfran & @mywaykiszka
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justalitlecreacher · 3 years
Text
I was neutral on the whole moobloom/glow squid thing but every post I see hating on people for voting for a “useless” retexture of a a squid instead of another retexture of a cow makes my support for glow squid grow
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technowoah · 3 years
Text
Rather Be Devisive Than Indecisive pt. 2
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You weren't planning to help Techno again, but here you are with his horse.
- ANON REQUESTED!
- I really wanted to do second part anyways! So thanks a bunch!
- this story is long 😪 it'll all make sense though!
- part 1 is here!
- masterlist!
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To say everything went south was a understatement. Everything went to hell, and you were currently living in it. You missed watching the sunset standing ontop L'Manburg's walls, you missed the peacefulness before the war. Maybe back then was too good to be true.
After the last encounter with Technoblade you had turned back to help Tommy and Tubbo. You tried to help wherever you could because you can see everyone drift apart, the main reason people came together was gone and dead. You tried to be a bigger sibling to both of them, and you tried to Tubbo and the former citizens repair the crater Wilbur left behind.
It took years, but L'Manburg was new and fresh again, with the help of Tubbo's new cabinet of trusted people L'Manburg was peaceful again. Tubbo had made you apart of his cabinet as well as Quackity, Fundy, Tommy and Karl. It was a new beginning.
There were days where you wondered if Wilbur would get a funeral. Schlatt had gotton a funeral, but you saw first hand how that went it wasnt a somber moment at all. It was for the best, they had mixed feelings about Wilbur and you dont blame them.
You had a new family, but there were things unkown to you, things that are being created out of your knowledge and that scared you. We have new L'manburg, but it isnt the same you dont know how long Tubbo could uphold peace in this new kingdom.
New things were created from the end of a old one.
It was a peaceful day in L'Manburg just as Tubbo promised the new citizens. You had stayed busy the whole day until a certian blonde came around your house frantically urging you to get outside and follow him
"C'mon! Just follow me! I have something to show you!"
"Tommy what are you talking about?!"
"Its VERY important, hurry! I dont want him to leave that spot."
Tommy had dragged you by the arm to the pier that evening and kept chanting that he had to show you something of utmost importance. You were trying to ask questions and keep up with his pace as he weaved through buildings claiming they were a "shortcut". Tommy stopped you at the pier and stood to your side, he was looking back and forth at the end of the pier to the water and back to you again.
You were about to ask why you were there until you saw a familiar man.
"Oh! Hello! Tommy who is this?"
He was pale, no, he was transparent. He looked pale, the sunset's dull rays made it seem like he still had skin. He had a yellow sweater on with brown pants and black shoes. He looked comfortable, he looked free. Next to his side there was a sheep on a leash with blue dye, you noticed it was poorly dyed too the dye was dripping from its wool. It was Wilbur, physically, but it wasn't HIM.
"He's Ghostbur." Tommy whispered to you while he stood between you two.
"Yes, I'm Ghostbur!" The ghost cheerfully said.
"This- this is y/n. Dont you remember?" Tommy cautiously asked Ghostbur.
Ghostbur had a look of confusion and curiosity on his face. He seemed so pure compared to when he was alive.
"No..I can't, but I would love to know." He stuck out his hand in a greeting.
"Hi I'm ghostbur!"
"I'm y/n." You said lowly.
You tried to reach out and grab his hand but it went straight through. You hated it, he's gone and you couldn't bring him back. It isn't him, but Ghostbur maybe better, Wilbur is gone and thats okay. Something came out of nothing, you kept telling yourself that everything was okay, but now seeing Ghostbur so naive and pure and free of the world's weight you believed everything would be fine.
"Im sorry. Im transparent, and I have no flesh." Ghostbur smiled.
"That's fine." You paused looking for the right words. "Do you know what you did? To L'Manburg?"
"Believe me, he dosen't. I tried." Tommy said to you.
"I couldn't belive I would do such a thing." Ghostbur added on.
"He shares no memories of Wilbur. Basically a new person." Tommy continued.
"That's great." You perked up. "It's bittersweet ya know. But Im happy you're here Ghostbur!"
"Im happy I'm here too, and Im happy I met you today." Ghostbur smiled at you while his sheep walked towards you, he unknowingly rubbed up against you putting blue dye on your clothes.
"Oh! This is Friend! I forgot to mention him to you. You can pet him!"
You didnt want to. He was dripping with dye, but you did it to appease Ghostbur. Tommy cringed while you petted the slightly wet, blue sheep. Once you were done your hand was blue, you rubbed it on your clothes that were already blue.
"I think he likes you." Ghostbur cheerfully said.
You were so thankful for Tommy bringing you to that pier. It was the closure you needed to move on and focus on building a new life for all of you. A peaceful life, but it seemed too good to be true. Days went by like normal and that sometimes was too much for you. You worked on new buildings and worked with Tubbo's cabinet too, that was a new normality for you.
The unknown scared you, but you had your family here. You had made amends with them and now and this is what you wanted. But then again it all seemed too good to be true.
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Nobody had told you anything, you weren't in cabinet meetings, nor around Tubbo or Tommy. You felt shut out, you felt sick. The cabinet had decided to do something about Tommy and Dream started to become involved in Tommy's predicament. Soon after Tommy was in court, stripped away of his vice presidency, and had been put on probation.
Tubbo had come to you about Tommy being exiled. There was a huge meeting with the cabient and Dream about that situation and you had stayed silent the whole time. You wanted what was best for L'Manburg, but Tommy was like a brother to you, you couldn't send him away to fend for himself. You could see the confliction on Tubbo's face as he was going through the same dilemma as you were.
In the end Dream gave Tubboo 3 days to chose if to exile Tommy or not.
Tubbo had talked to you about the situation before the second day came. You two were in the same boat when it came to exiling him. You two had came to a conclusion, Tubbo just had to talk with the rest of his cabinent for a final conclusion.
The second day came and the plan switched immediately when Tommy came and introduced it. He wanted to fight back against Dream, of course he did, but he wanted another man to come and help. They wanted Technoblade to join their revolt. Quackity and Fundy agreed with the idea, but Tubbo was more cautious. You hated it.
Technoblade wasn't a subject nor person you wanted to be associated with ever since that night in Pogtopia. After all this time you had forgotten about him, you had forgotten your failed attempt at rekindling your friendship until now.
Tubbo was cautious, but you were 100% against it. Tubbo agreed with the rest of the cabinet and Tommy. They eventually asked you, and of course you said no, but it didn't matter, majority rules in this case.
You all approched Dream intop of the obsidian walls with your final decision.
"We have come to a decision. Look around." Tubbk leaded.
"There's giant, obsidian walls." Dream answered calmly.
"There is, there is Dream. And that's a problem, okay? This is funny actually." Tubbo turned back to Tommy. "Tommy, I am- I am so sorry."
Tubbo continues to talk to Dream. "I have come to the decision, that it'll be better for the nation the most logical thing to do is for Tommy to be exiled from L'Manburg."
"What?"
"Tubbo?!"
"Teaming up with Technoblade is an awful idea! It's an awful idea!"
Oh thank goodness.
"We just had this conversation!" Fundy yelled.
"No! No! Okay?! Nothing! Involving any kind of conflict is not safe for this nation! You've undermined my authority from the get go! Okay! All of you! No one here has respected me. You all jump on these merry little bandwagons of destruction. It's not okay!"
Tubbo was livid. His face was turning red and will keep doing so if he kept yelling. You felt a familiar breeze beside you as you saw Ghostbur standing next to you and behind Tommy. He smiled at you and continued yo listen to Tubbo's angry speech. You wondered why he was here, why he showed up at times and then left. Like he only needed to listen and not give any input.
"You cant go back on the plan now?! What the hell?!" Tommy yelled.
"When I was sworn in I made a promise to do what was best for the nation. And right now, Tommy you, your presence here is not the best for his nation."
Your heart dropped to your stomach and you think ghostbur noticed. You were happy that you didnt need to see Technoblade again, but you were going to lose what you would call a brother. You started to backtrack on your final decision, you belived Tubbo was in thr right. Tubbo wanted what was best for L'Manburg and what was best for L'Manburg was for Tommy to be exiled. You wished there was another way, but you know Tommy was stubborn it wouldn't work that easy.
Your mind kept wandering to if Tubbo decided to team with Technoblade. He was right there would be destruction, a huge war and probably the end of L'Manburg. You didn't want that again, you didn't want to see him again. You couldn't help but wonder if he knew L'Manburg was brand new.
"Dream, please detain and escort Tommy out of my country."
Tommy was gone. Its been weeks, four weeks to be exact. L'Manburg was peaceful, everywhere was peaceful, but you had to admit that you missed him. Fundy and Quackity tried to convince Tubbo to bring Tommy back, but he already made up his mind. He was confident in his decision, you were proud he was ruling L'Manburg confidently, but everyone was weary.
You haven't seen Ghostbur around either, he must've been floating around somewhere. It's none of your business.
The walls have been taken down and L'Manburg was independent again. There were sacrifices to be made. There were a lot of sacrifices to be made to keep L'Manburg up, and you kept asking yourself if everything was worth it. Was the discs worth that much to Tommy? Was L'Manburg even a good choice to begin with?
Was Technoblade right?
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The Butcher Gang. They were calling themselves The Butcher Gang. The cabinet had several meeting and came ti the decisions that the biggest problems in L'Manburg were Technoblade and Dream. The cabinet decided not to kill Dream because of the fact that he was allies with L'Manburg, so they decided to try and kill Technoblade.
Dumbasses. You've mentioned to Tubbo that he was a very, very, very dangerous man. Tubbo has seen him before! You asked Tubbo constantly why did he wants to kill him when he says that he didn't want to team up with him. Tubbo said it was for the better of L'Manburg, but dosent he know that might cause even more trouble?
You didnt want to join them, you couldn't risk your life for something that is impossible to achieve. You separated from the cabinet, you couldn't watch them do this and you tried to stop them, but they insisted on the act.
Lately you've seen more of Ghostbur and that made you happy. It made you happy he wanted to spend time with you and it made you forget the trouble brewing in the cabinet.
"What's wrong?" Ghostbur asked while sitting on the edge of the pier with you, and Friend who was tied to one of the pier's poles.
"It's nothing Ghostbur." You said with a sigh.
"Good!" He cheerfully said.
"Can I actually tel you something?" You asked again, you wanted to get this off of your chest.
"Of course." He smiled.
You sighed and then began to speak as you looked out to the water. "It's the cabinet, its Tubbo, Fundy and Quackity that's the problem."
"But they are wonderful people! What can they do wrong?" Ghostbur suddenly asked.
"They want to kill someone, Ghostbur."
"Maybe it was a misunderstanding."
"I dont- I dont think so." You hung your head looking at your feet.
"Ghostbur, they want to kill Technoblade and I dont-"
"Technoblade?! That's my friend! Why- why would they want to kill him?"
Your heart felt heavy at his words. Another point not to kill Technoblade, you didn't want Ghostbur to hurt, not like Wilbur.
"He was a friend of mine too once. When L'Manburg first got blown up he- we betrayed L'Manburg and then spawned 3 wither skeletons to destroy the rest of the citizens." You explained to Ghostbur's disrught face.
"You wouldn't do that! You're kind!" Ghostbur exclaimed.
"It wasn't my best decision Ghostbur. People can make bad mistakes. A lot of people do. They aren't pure like you." You smiled softly at him.
A long hush fell over the two of you until Ghostbur perked up.
"We need to save Technoblade!" He exclaimed.
"Ghostbur I cant do that."
"Why not?"
"Because me and Techno aren't friends anymore." You said sadly.
"Why not?"
You couldn't answer that. You can, you can give the right answer, but at this moment you couldnt tell the ghost who suddenly stood up next to you.
"If I take you to where Technoblade lives will you feel better?" Ghostbur asked with Friend's leash in his hands.
Tubbo, Fundy and Quackity didnt know where Technoblade lives and desperately wanted to know to kill him. Maybe this was a good idea. You tried to convince yourself that as you walked side by side with Ghostbur. You had followed him through the woods as he weaved in and out of the trees. Friend was following Ghostbur as well, he wouldn't let Friend stay anywhere out of his sight.
You were getting special treatment, you were about to find out where Technoblade lived before The Butcher Gang would. Would you be considered a traitor again? Tubbo wouldn't want you back in the cabinet if you knew where Technoblade lived and you didnt tell him.
The atmosphere got colder as you two ventured on, you didnt know he would retreat all the way out here. It was snowing and you didn't bring any type of warm clothing considering L'Manburg was rather warm. Ghostbur had no problem, neither did Friend. Luckily you saw a light in the dark woods. It was further away, but you could see the light expand as you two treaded over towards it.
"That's the house!" Ghostbur pointed too.
You two reached the end of the woods and before you was an opening. There was blanket of white snow everywhere, there were footprints in the snow, but they were being covered by the falling snow above you. It was a valley and the only thing there was a beautiful wooden house. It was errie, the only civilization here was was Technoblade who lived in the house.
"It's pretty lonely." You said still cautious of the situation.
"Yeah it's sad, but we're here and it's okay!" Ghostbur said.
"Sure." You whispered as Ghostbur continues to lead the way.
You two got closer and closer to the house and you continued to try and back out. It's too late to do so now, you didnt even feel like walking back to L'Manburg after you confront Technoblade again. The two of you were heading up to his door, your heart was beating heavier as you got to his door. You brought your fist up to knock on the door, hopefully he was home because you were freezing cold. You harshly knocked on his door and awaited for his response.
You two waited for a while, but no one was opening the door.
"Ghostbur why don't you go inside?"
"I'll just peak my head in!" He answered and did so. His head phased through the door and then he came back out with a frown on his face. "No one is in there."
"Why did we come here?" You sulked and started to turn away from the door.
"Why the hell are you two here at night?!"
"Oh! Techno! Hi!"
Shit. You were looking into his eyes and you froze when he turned to you. This was the first time you've seen him in years ever since Pogtopia, you hated it. It was embarrassing you tried to become friends long ago, but that failed, and now you were here again. He probably saw you as desperate, coming back to him after betraying him.
"Hello Ghostbur. How are you?" Technoblade walked in between the two of you opening the door to his house. When he walked in he intentionally left the door open for you and Ghostbur. Luckily it was warmer inside and you welcomed it.
"Im good! But we are here for you." Ghostbur cheerfully said.
"Oh really?" Technoblade said while occupying himself with something else, not even bothering to look at the two of you standing awkwardly at his closed door.
"Yeah, Y/N tell him!" Ghostbur urged you on.
You paused for a second before speaking to Technoblade, who wasnt even paying attention. "There's these people called the Butcher Gang."
"Sounds stupid."
"Yeah it is. And they want you."
Techno scoffed. "Want me for what?"
You knew Technoblade was smarter than this. He was bouncing around the room not even sparing a glance towards you. He wasn't paying attention.
"They want to kill you Technoblade."
He stopped all of his movements, stood up to his full height and looked towards you and Ghostbur for the first time you've been in his house.
"You better not be screwing with me."
"Why would I?!" You got offended by his statement.
"I dont know, because you show up to my house out of nowhere and tell me that people are trying to kill me. This could be a setup! I cant trust-"
"Okay! The Butcher Gang is Tubbo, Quackity and Fundy. Thats all I know of who's in the group. They want to kill you because you are a threat to L'Manburg. Trust me!" You cut him off and explained.
"What do you want me to do about it?" Technoblade asked you.
"Dont kill them, but I wanted to warn you. They are being reckless and since you're out here they shouldn't bother you. They're looking for more trouble, Tubbo already has a lot on his plate, this isn't a good idea for you nor L'Manburg."
You finished your statement still weary of this whole situation. You hated being in this situation, Techno's presence didn't make you uncomfortable it was just seeing him and warning him of future danger. You two weren't even considered close, why were you here? You were here for L'Manburg.
"Okay. I'll try. No promises though." Techno smirked and continued doing whatever task he was doing.
You found somewhere to sit for the time being knowing that you two wouldn't talk. Looking around the room you realized that Friend was alone inside the house without Ghostbur. You looked outside and saw him walking from the woods again in a rushed pace. You didn't know he left, he phased back into the house.
"They say they're gonna kill you. Y/n was right." Ghostbur says.
"Were you two leading them to my house?!"
"No."
"No we didn't! We didn't even know they were coming today!" You stood up looking out the window in search of Tubbo and the rest of them.
"Ghostbur who was with them?" You asked as Techno ran around the rooms for weapons and armor.
"Um, Tubbo, Fundy, Quackity..Oh! And Ranboo."
"Ranboo?!" That poor kid. What is he doing?
"Eventhough I hate to say this. I don't trust you. Get out." Technoblade paused infront of you before rushing to the other room. "And tell them I'm not home!"
"And if that dosent work?!" You yelled back.
"Then to hell with them!"
You rushed outside with Ghostbur, hoping that the Butcher Gang dosen't notice you were leaving Technoblade's house. It was too late, they were already lined up outside with full netherite armor and gear.
"Y/n?!"
"Wait what are you doing here?" Tubbo asked as you made your way towards them.
"Im- I wanted to try and rekindle mine and Technoblade's relationship." You used an old lie to get yourself out of this situation. This was an already bad look on you, hopefully your lie would work.
"I thought your friendship ended a long time ago?" Tubbo asked again.
"It did, but I wanted to try again." This was embarrassing, now you really seem desperate.
"I see, then move out of our way." Tubbo asked you harshly.
"Uh- hey." Technoblade came out of his house with full netherite too, you weren't protected, so you will have to stay out of the way.
"Why have you guys come all the way over here to my humble abode?" Technoblade started walking towards his stable where he kelt his horse. He tried to lighten the mood, but it didn't seem to work. As he moved you moved with him trying not to be inbetween the dangerous men with swords and enchanted armor.
"You need to pay for your war crimes." Tubbo said while following Technoblade.
"That was like- that's in the past! Alright, that was a different Technoblade. Im a changed man now! Im in retirement! Im a good person now Tubbo!" Technoblade dragged on as Tubbo just hummed in response.
Quackity spoke up. "Technoblade you exploded L'Manburg with fucking withers."
"You literally spawned Withers everywhere!" Tubbo exclaimed.
"Im sorry, Im sorry Technoblade as much as you changed you have to be brought to justice for that." Quackity interrupted Tubbo.
The Butcher Gang tried to speak to Technoblade at the same time, when Technoblade spoke up over them all.
"Listen guys! I've gone through so much effort over the past month to change my violent ways! I've reformed alright? The voices, they demand blood! And I- I have been denying THEM! Ive been fighting back! Please! Please dont make me kill all of you, please just leave."
You guess he has changed, but you knew somewhere in your mind that he wasn't talking about just the Butcher Gang, he was including you too. You were somewhat confident that you wouldn't be attacked or killed, but you were terribly wrong before.
There was back and forth banter between the two of them. Techno had tried to show the gang his bees and tried to make a run for it.
"Techno!"
"Hey!"
"He's running!"
The gang started running towards him, but instead of continuing he stopped and turned to them. You were trailing behind trying to catch up to them, you kept running after them. You were not equipped for this night, you didn't know Ghostbur was going to bring you out in the open cold. You could hear Ghostbur behind you as you continued to run towards them.
"Y/N you're gonna damage yourself!" Ghostbur's voice became more echoed and further away as you tried to get closer to the gang before they got killed.
"There's no other way."
"Tubbo dont be stupid!" You were right behind the Butcher Gang.
"There's no other way!"
Fuck
"I CHOSE BLOOD!"
A cloud of smoke enveloped the 6 of you and you suddenly could see. You could only see the glint of everyone's armor.
"Y/N get behind us!" Tubbo tried to blocked you off from reaching Technoblade.
"Why didn't you bring any armor?!" Quackity yelled.
"I didn't think i was gonna be fucking out here!"
Technoblade must've set off multiple smoke bombs because the smoke wouldn't stop, the smoke made you woozy, but the others didnt seemed phased by it at all and kept fighting Technoblade. Your lungs felt full, and you felt like passing out, but you wouldn't allow yourself to do so.
"Tubbo stop this!" You yelled out when the smoke cleared a little.
"No! He needs to pay!" He said while fighting with Fundy.
The air was still hazy and you lost sight of people occasionally. Whipping your head around you were met with what felt like the butt of a axe. You quickly saw a split second of a shiny axe and then a pain in your chest spiked up. You double back and tried to recover, but then you've been sliced in the thigh and a deep cut in your side taking you down to the ground. You were bleeding out and desperately trying to heal the wound in your side. You felt your consciousness slowly slip from you as you laid on the snow. The warm contrast of your blood compared to the cold snow was sad. You always get hurt, no matter what you do. It's inevitable, and you finally gotten used to it.
The last thing you heard was yelling, but it slowly faded out.
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You were warm, and not in the middle of nowhere anymore. You opened your eyes to see yourself staring at a polished wood ceiling, the soft pillows and blankets around you made everything feel so much better. Your whole body hurts, you dont want to move nor do you want to remember. Thank goodness that someone had patched you up, you didn't want to die. You tried shifting your body but the pain in your side was denying any movement.
"Oh! You're awake thank God!" A voice called out from your side. You looked over to see the half human hafl enderman sitting in a chair by a window. "I thought you weren't gonna wake up! Tubbo and the rest if the cabinet was worried as well."
"Were you the one who patched me up?" You asked carefully.
"Yeah! Luckily I can see in that fog, so I took you away and patched you up." Ranboo smiled.
"Who- who hit me?" You asked trying to sit up again.
Ranboo paused. "Technoblade." Ranboo said in a somber tone.
"I see." You sighed.
Ranboo helped you sit back on the headboard of the bed and you two continued to talk.
"Are you mad at him?"
"Im just upset. Its okay, he said he'll kill all of us so I knew he would." You kept your gaze at you lap.
"Yeah I get it." Ranboo replied.
"I have a question ranboo!" You perked up.
"Yeah? Shoot."
"Why did you join the Butcher Gang?" You asked the taller man. He stayed silent thinking of a right answer before actually speaking.
"They were nice to me. I trust people who are nice to me, that show me kindness and treat me with respect. I know its lame, my answer isn't fully fleshed out, but that's the reason." Ranboo shrugged and you nodded.
You would love to know Ranboo more, he seems like a great guy, but he's just lost.
"Oh! I forgot! You have a letter!" Ranboo walked around the bed and brought out a folded piece of paper and handed it to you.
You unfolded it and began to read.
𝘔𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦
𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵. 𝘐 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶
- 𝘋
"Execution site?" You looked towards Ranboo.
"Oh yeah! Technoblade's execution is today an-"
"How the hell did you get him?!" You interrupted him. "Im sorry."
Ranboo looked shocked before composing himself. "Dont worry! Well, we took his horse hostage and he immediately wanted to surrender if we didn't let Carl go." Ranboo gathered stuff around the room. "And the execution is today, happening in a few minutes and I need to be there. I'll be back soon to check up on you!"
You nodded and continued to listen to him.
"Are- are you coming?" Ranboo sent one last glance towards you before making his way out.
"You know you dont HAVE to go." You said trying to ease the tension.
"I know. I really do know." He sighed. "Are you sure you dont want to?"
"No, Im okay." You sent him a smile.
You had lied again. Of course you didn't want to see Technoblade get killed, but that note that was left made you go to the cave. You trudged you way up to said cave, even though the pain in your side was unbearable you continued on. Once you had gotton up to the cave, you peaked inside cautiously. You saw a man in a cloak with a familiar mask on with Technoblade's horse. You knew it was Dream.
"Hello."
"Hello Dream."
"I will cut right to the chase. Take Carl and wait here. I have other work to do." He handed you the reigns to Carl and started to leave.
"Excuse me!? What do I do? Why do I wait here?!" You yelled after him and he just waved you off.
You rolled your eyes and found a stone in the cave to rest against with Carl's reigns lazily in your hands.
You didnt know what time it was, but the sun was slowly going down, it wasn't particularly sunset, but you knew it was late. Your eyes began to close until your heard screaming in the distance. You sat up slowly, now fully alert. You held Carl's reigns tighter as you backed into the cave more and more.
Footsteps were heard in the distance coming up to the cave and you thought if Dream had set you up for failure. The footsteps grew louder until a panting Technoblade appeared at the entrance at the cave. He looked horrible, he was thinking the same thing about you.
You two exchanged no words. You didn't want to say anything, what would you even say? He rushed over to Carl and started petting him. "Carl you're okay!"
You hummed as you and Techno shared a glance. He smiled at you. He smiled at you. It's been so long since you've seen him smile. He didn't need words to communicate, his eyes and smile said enough. You matched his smile and gave him a knowing nod and he did the same.
"Feel better eh?" Technoblade started conversation.
"Not really. What about you?"
"Eh- used a totem of undying just now."
"What?! Really?" You exclaimed. "I guess that's why you're here now huh?"
"Yeah I'll tell you about it sometimes." He smiled and climbed atop of his horse and you could see him thinking. "Im sorry too. You almost died cause of me. Thats is unacceptable, I shouldn't- I shouldn't have attacked you. I couldn't-"
"You cant control it. It's gonna take me awhile to recover, but..." You touched your bandaged cut. "It'll take me some time."
Technoblade nodded knowing what you meant. He could always read your mind somehow, thats what made you two work. Knowing eachother. He sent you one last silent goodbye before riding out of the cave. You knew that trust was somewhat restored, and that you two were better than before. This might be a new beginning.
A very angry Quackity came running around the corner of the cave and spotted you leaving. He whipped his head around to you.
"Hey! Where the fuck is Techno?!" He yelled at you.
"I don't know-"
"Dont bullshit me!"
"I. Don't. Know." You said more sternly. He gave you a hard glare before running away.
You went the opposite way trying to make it back to the room you woke up in before Ranboo came back.
Earlier you were desperately trying to befriend Techno, but things come more naturally you learned. You cant rush things, nor control this world. Things will fall into place, your and Technoblade's friendship will blossom again.
You will never find peace, but that's okay. You should be used to it by now. Everything is chaotic, but everything will be okay.
224 notes · View notes
ruvatia · 3 years
Note
Sorry if this is a bit much with everything going on, but could I request a scenario where the Paladins + Matt & Lotor have a black s/o and they’re scared abt everything that’s happening in their country and are sad that racial injustice is happening? I’ve been rlly worried the past few days, but if this is smth too uncomfy I understand ;w; Thank you 💖💖💖
This got really long, I apologize but I turned it into half-headcanons with just the main paladins-- i apologize for not doing all the characters you’ve mentioned, but I don’t think they would fit all in a single post anyways www
On another note I hope you and every other reader take good care of their mental health; it’s important to be aware of what’s going on but it’s also important to be in the right mindspace to be able to tackle everything that’s being shared. It’s pain that’s been boiling for a very long time and there is absolutely no shame in taking some downtime to recover before heading back into current issues.
SHIRO:
If you were saddened, Shiro would suggest that maybe you switch to something else; if there was something that he knows will distract you and temporarily have you be a little more at ease, he’d do that!
But also maybe add a little twist-- extra soft blankets (fresh out of the oven! Screw the bills you’re worth it), extra cheese on your favorite dish, whatever it is that can make your smile a little wider, bigger or brighter just let him know!
Would give you hugs if you asked, but usually Shiro pets your head and brushes your cheek for comfort
He also does this when he wants to ask something of you, but thats another story
Why the TV was still on was a mystery to you, you’d stopped listening a long time ago. Your partner besides you noticed, and you felt the hand around your shoulder tighten his grip a little, bringing you out of your thoughts.
“Hey, maybe we should watch something else?” he asked softly, brushing your cheek with his hand. “I can’t really listen to this anymore.”
“Yeah… Sure.” you replied, though it felt like an automated response more than your actual opinion.
“Okay, I’ll switch to that weird show Pidge recorded the other day, we agreed to watch it, right?” he replied, quickly grabbing the remote to change the program.
The first episode started playing, but the moment that it did, you felt cold as Shiro left your side.
“Where are you going?” you asked, your interlaced fingers the only thing keeping him close.
“Ah, I thought I’d make us something. We both kinda skipped dinner….”
He’d thought about putting something together that you’d like, maybe order dessert to surprise you but seeing the look on your face, leaving your side was the hardest thing to do right now.
So he gave in, and your both fell asleep until the doorbell rang with your delivery.
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KEITH:
I have this headcanon that Keith isn’t very good with physical touch but after the end of voltron and after enough time of humanitarian relief, he learns how important it is for someone that’s in a specific state of mind
So the best he has to offer when his words fail is physical touch
Over your time together he’s learned what you need depending on your mood, and it helped him out lots when you were more vocal about it-- if anything he liked it when you asked for things that he could easily deliver, he’d do anything to see you smile
A hand came over your phone screen, Keith’s fingers lacing into yours and making you drop the device onto the crevices of the sofa.
“Why did you--”
“You’ve been staring at that thing for the past hour, biting at your nails.�� he said in a worried tone. “That’s enough. We’re going to bed.”
“But it’s just--”
“We’re going to bed.” he repeated in a harsher tone, lifting you off your seat.
Keith sat down onto the bed first, pulling you into him. You both fell onto the bed, Keith quickly pulling the covers over your shoulders before his arms came around you.
“My alarm is my phone.”
“That’s nice, but we both know we have nothing to do tomorrow.” he replied right away, making you chuckle.
“Keith…” you called, your hands sneaking up to his face.
You brushed away some of his hair from his face as he gave you a complicated expression, unable to reflect the small smile you wore. He knew things were shit outside, that being apart from your family and other loved ones was a toll on both you and that lately negative thoughts have plagued you more often than not but Keith, despite his good intention was still somewhat of an awkward man.
“Thank you.”
He kissed you in reply and you both left it at that, glad that he had someone like you to meet him halfway.
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LANCE:
Lots of hugs the moment he feels something is off with you
Will be a brat™ for the sole purpose of distracting you, bET
I feel like post-series Lance tries his best to be as observant as Allura and tries to understand others better-- but it didn't take a genius or incredible empath to know why your eyes looked like they were about to overflow at the sight of the news.
I’d like to think that Lance, with a big connected family is one of the paladins that very easily gets what you’re going through, wouldn’t be surprised he’s been called one or two things in his past either
That being said it doesn’t mean that he completely understands your personalized struggles with racial injustices that you encounter everyday; as another minority himself + coming from a culture and upbringing that might be different than yours, its a very different experience.
Memories flooded as the news anchor spoke about “lootings” and as you scrolled down your feed to see feeble attempts at sympathy from local peacekeepers. You sigh and retweet another thread, only to find something equally as shocking right after. You stopped commenting in quote retweets a while ago, you felt like you were constantly repeating that none of this was okay and that a reform was desperately needed. Rather than typing out your thoughts you typed out your name, address and email over and over again, signing one petition after the other.
Hearing sigh after sigh, Lance eventually put an arm around your shoulder. He startled you, but his soft voice made both your shoulders and your guard lower.
“Hey, do you want to make a midnight snack with me? I’m getting kinda hungry.”
“What about that new rule we were talking about? Not eating 4 hours before we went to bed?”
“Every diet has one or two cheat days, don’t they?” he replied, kissing one of your eyelids. “Come on, I’m sure your neck is sore from being like that for so long.”
In the end you both made some soul-food until a food-coma knocked you out until tomorrow. In the morning, you realized that Lance must’ve woken up in the middle of the night because you remember cuddling on the couch, and yet you’re waking up on the bed. Of course, still in his arms.
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HUNK:
Having a sensible heart, I feel like both you and hunk would struggle a little about maintaining a healthy distance with current events.
Though overtime he would understand that keeping in touch with everything that’s going on is important, but not at the sake of burning out
His best bet, to him, to pull you out of a such a dark space is with comfort food
“Ok ppl feel like they want to eat a horse but they actually cant when they’re in that mind space Hunk, let’s make something sweet and small; something direct and straight to the point! Let’s add smiley faces on it!”
Your turned down the volume from the news, let your head fall backwards and brought up your forearm over your closed eyes. It felt warm and made it you realize that you had probably been staring very intensely at the screen as a wave of comfort hit your eyes the moment they were drowned in darkness. Letting out a deep breath, you stilled and let yourself bask in your thoughts until a familiar voice brought you back.
“Maybe a little bit more sugar? No, then it would be disbalanced. The base is already so sweet-- Ah, I have to take the cupcakes out or else they might get burned!”
You felt a smile grow on your lips, making you ignore the horrid news being broadcasted to turn to your partner that as usual, seemed to juggle ten thousand things to create a whole meal.
“What’s going on over here?” you asked, leaning over the counter to note that one of your favorite dishes was made and machines that were mostly used for baking had been brought out.
“Oh you know, just a little pick me up for my most favorite person ever.” he shrugged, but a smile soon came to his face. His hands were full but he leaned over, his lips meeting your cheek. “Things outside are a little dark, so I thought we could both use a little something nice.”
He turned on the machine after dropping a drop of dye to make it your favorite color and within a few minutes the icing was finished. Hunk scooped up a small amount on his finger and brought it to his lips and nod.
“Wanna taste?” he asked you, his finger dipping into the icing.
A mischievous grin spread on your features as you took his wrist and let his finger fall on your tongue, the sweetness quickly spreading through your mouth. The yellow paladin shivered as you let his digit hang in your mouth for longer than necessary, letting out a satisfied hum when you returned it to him.
“Tastes perfect.”
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PIDGE:
She knew what could be fixed, she knew how to fix it but this meant she was also aware of how long such a transition would take
I think Pidge would be similar to Shiro: whatever she remembers that helps you be at ease, she would defect to that in hopes to maybe distract you for a while.
I don’t think Pidge is a very touchy person either, so if she reaches out to you _physically_ in worry, it’s a very clear sign she’s serious/anxious
I feel like she would reach out in other ways and then if she knew you were in a specific state of mind where touch was not useful, or if she just also wanted to try things out lol
As you watched the twisted information that was being shared on screen, another message caught your attention. Rather than a small red icon in the corner, a small window appeared in the middle of your computer screen.
<I found a way to modify notifications sent to another device.>
The video had stopped, every horrible gif about police brutality was paused and there was nothing else but the small window pidge had thrown onto your screen. You chuckled, and felt a pressure behind your working chair.
Another message popped up.
<You’ve been catching up with twitter for the past two hours. Surely you’re done now?>
A soft laugh came from you, making Pidge release a breath she didn’t know she was holding. You typed out an answer:
<Is it possible to be completely caught up with twitter? I follow like 500 accounts.>
<Okay, but half of them are just cat videos and the other half are just retweets of said videos.>
<Oh here I was thinking that this was an intervention to brighten my mood. We’re dragging each other’s follows now?>
<Oh please like you don’t want to be dragged, with that kind of follow list.>
<I can’t believe you’ve done this.>
You both laughed, before Pidge turned around and tapped your shoulder. She let her hand float in the air, yours coming to join it as a soon as your turned her way.
“Wanna take a nap?” she asked, letting her head fall onto your shoulder. “I had Chip make some hot chocolate, Hunk style.”
You squeezed her hand, putting your computer on sleep mode.
“Yeah, that sounds nice.”
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Text
Settling In: Elder Sister
Inspired by @i-cant-sing and their Yandere Todoroki Family series
There isn't a clock in your room. There is a bathroom but no clock. You don’t have a phone, but there is a laptop still on the desk. You could look at the time on there, but your curiosity isn’t worth getting out of this bed. The bed itself is absolutely massive, dwarfing you on all sides. You can stretch out and be nowhere near any of the edges. It’s the most comfortable bed you’ve ever slept upon. Knowing what time it is isn’t as important as the comfort this bed provides.
It’s early morning and the sun is just starting to rise. You know that much. Looking out of the window, you see the golden yellow sun illuminating the sky, pushing out the dark, depressing night sky.
It’s a new day, one filled with potential and hope. You aren’t immediately put off by living here. Sure, nothing will replace your parents, but Rei and Enji aren’t bad. They seem to be strict, but so was your last couple of homes. This is an upgrade, truly.
You can hear your door unlock. You turn to it, seeing Rei in the entrance. For a brief moment, you see a golden object much like the sun you were just staring at. Though, you blame it on a trick of the light. The door wasn’t locked; you didn’t lock the door last night.
“Ah, [Y/N].” A shocked expression quickly melts into the warm smile she gave you all of yesterday, “You’re up already. Don’t tell me you’ve been up all night!”
“Oh no.” You move to sit on the side of the bed. Though you had the ability to, you didn’t put the canopy part of your princess bed down. It’s a little babyish for your taste, though you’d never admit it, “I haven’t been up long. The sunrise was really pretty this morning.”
“I know; I saw.” Rei grabs your hands, helping you up and towards your closet, “Maybe I’ll wake you up earlier and we can watch it together.”
“Alright.” It’s your new favorite response. It’s perfect for situations you agree with, but have no other words to say on the matter.
Rei lets go of your hands and you let them fall to the sides of your pale pink nightgown. You didn’t really like this when Rei bought it, but you never said anything. You’ll try to stay in their good graces as long as possible.
“Now, let’s pick you out something to wear today while we go over house rules.”
She does exactly what she says she’s going to do. You appreciate her honesty, even if the clothes aren’t your style and the rule list is something you’ll probably not remember.  She’s honest, unlike prior caretakers. 
You’re handed a white sweater with bubblegum pink hearts on the elbows. They’re about as big as your fist, with the heart’s point pointing towards your wrists. With how it’s made, you can’t see the hearts. They’re for other people to look at. That’s the epitome of your new wardrobe. You don’t mind it too much.
The matching skirt is pink and pleated, not unlike the cheer skirts the cheerleaders at your old school wore. The white stockings ruin the cheerleader image, but they keep you warm. Every room Rei steps into turns cold. Every room Enji steps into becomes hot. You don’t imagine that Enji is here much, being the number one hero. But Rei is here, possibly all of the time. You’ll need to keep warm around her. Shoes are forgone. You’re probably not leaving the house today.
She leads you towards the vanity. The warm lights are flipped on and you look at yourself in the mirror. Wordlessly, she does your hair. You look yourself in the mirror. This is similar to how your peers used to play with dolls. She does your hair and dresses you up without allowing your input. At least she doesn’t make you stay silent. You’ve already had a home like that.
“Umm… Rei?” You ask tentatively, “What are we going to be doing today?”
“My other daughter is coming around.” Rei replies, smiling at you through the mirror, “She comes around, once a week or so, to check in on me.”
You smile back at her, looking away from yourself and at her reflection, “Alright.” 
Rei helps you up out of the vanity’s stool. She leads you to another room. This one is wall to wall windows, near the center of the complex. Waiting there is a conservatively dressed adult, with mid-length, almost completely white hair. Red splotches break through the strands of snowfall colored hair. You’d think it would be a bad dye job, but the family pictures on the wall show a younger her, with the same red splotched, white hair. You like her hair. It’s interesting.
“Mom.” The adult woman pulls Rei in for a hug. When they untangle, she waves at you, “Y/N, right? Call me Fuyumi. Nice to meet you.”
She’s inherited her mother’s smile and cool air radiates from her. Fuyumi looks very much like her mother, except for the bright blue eyes Enji drilled into your soul yesterday. They’re kinder, softer. She doesn’t make you instantly uneasy, like he does.
“Uhh, hi.” You wave back, “Nice to meet you too.”
Rei grabs your arm. Her icy fingers drag you to another soft seat—this time, being this room’s light grey, almost white couch. You wouldn’t want to stain or ruin this. It’s way too nice. Fuyumi sits in an adjacent chair. It looks almost identical to the couch and contrasts with her dark jeans. Rei wears dresses
“I’ll start breakfast.” Rei comments, “Will you be staying for breakfast, Fuyumi?”
“Do you need help?” Fuyumi stands back up almost immediately, “I thought you all would’ve already had breakfast. We could help! You don’t have to do it by yourself.”
Rei laughs lightly, “Oh Fuyumi, you worry too much. As long as you two stay out of the kitchen, I’ll be fine. And besides, you two should get to know each other. I’m sure you’ll love Y/N. It’s impossible not to.”
“Alright…” Fuyumi responds, “If you say so.”
Wordlessly, Rei leaves and Fuyumi sits back down. The sun’s well in the sky now. You can see it through any of the countless windows. This would look cooler, when the weather wasn’t so nice. Though, the sunlight warms the room slightly.
“So... Y/N. How was your first night?” Fuyumi turns to you, smiling once again. Her worried expression with Rei has all but melted away. You don’t know why she’d be so worried about the adult, she seems extremely capable. Maybe it’s age? Or it’s because of something you don’t know about, yet? Anyways, it’s not your place to add.
“Alright.” You decide on answering the question and not asking your own, “I got to watch the sunrise.”
“I did too, back at my place.” Fuyumi comments, “though, it’s not as nice in the city, as it is out here.”
The Todoroki residence is on a massive plot of land. Nothing else is here for miles. If you squint, you could see bits and pieces of Mustafu off in the distance. But nothing is in walking distance, certainly. They almost have you in the middle of nowhere. It’s scenic, that's for sure.
“I like your outfit. It looks adorable.” You fight to scrunch up your nose at the compliment. Adorable. Images of toddlers fill your head. That’s not what you wanted. Though, it’s out of your control anyways, as Rei picked out your outfit this morning.
“Thanks.” Y/N chooses to reply with acceptance and push the conversation forward, “I like your outfit too.”
“You’re too kind.” Fuyumi asks, “So… tell me about you? What do you do for fun.”
You answer her question, only mentioning things that you’ve been able to do this past year. You don’t talk about things you did with your parents. Those are firmly in the past now. They’re dead and the things you did alongside them are too.
Fuyumi never pushes an issue too long and she tries to keep the conversation interesting. You appreciate it. There is never a moment you feel unsafe or insecure. Other homes haven’t been this pleasant. Sure, Enji unnerves you and being dressed like a doll is weird, but everything else is alright. You’re able to overlook it—especially if the rest of your new siblings are like Fuyumi.
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oikawaplssteponme · 3 years
Text
Kyotani Kentaro Headcanons
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pairing: Kyotani Kentaro x reader
warnings: none (besides my simp commentary oops)
word count: 1,102 words
genre: fluff, hc style
synopsis: includes my personal hc’s on kyotani’s confession to you, your first date, relationship, the first “I love you”, and just some extra thoughts :))
a/n: hii im back after a much needed mini break💕i never write hc’s so this was actually really fun :)) let me just say that we don’t show him enough love and that needs to change 💕
Confession
•i am a firm believer that when he confessed to you he didn’t tell you face to face
•he instead wrote you just a plain sticky note and taped it to either your locker or a belonging of yours
•you instantly knew it was from him by his unique handwriting
•the sticky note probably read “will you go out with me? please.”
•please im so soft for him
•of course you would say yes and went to go find him immediately
•when he realized that you were looking for him, he’d totally freeze in his spot
•he was SO incredibly nervous to give you the little note because he hates being vulnerable
•so when you said yes, he could finally breath again
•he has an adorable smile when he is comfortable enough to show it and no i will not be taking criticism
First Date
•two words
•botanical gardens
•he would take you to go look a pretty flowers and butterflies while the day turns to night
•also since he hasn’t been in too many dates in his life, he over dressed (but in the best way possible)
•Kyotani would take note and try to remember any names of the flowers that you mentioned were pretty
•also when you got to the area where the butterflies were, he got so nervous
•the butterflies soon befriended him and began to land on his head
•he chuckled softly as he stayed almost completely still as to not scare them away
•(you took a picture of him with all the butterflies on him and set it as your wallpaper)
•you would tell him he looked cute and he just would not know how to respond
•his face would get all pink and flustered by your simple words
•you two didn’t do much talking in the beginning, more so you matched each other’s energy
•please he would be so hesitant to take your hand but you’d notice right away and grab his
•his hands were meant to be held PLEASE
•after the gardens he would take you to maybe grab a snack before dropping you off
•he ALWAYS opens the door for you and walks you to your doorstep
•ALWAYS
Relationship
•once he is comfortable enough, he never wants to leave your side
•i personally think that his love language is quality time or physical touch
•he could be curled up on a couch with you and be happy for the entire night
•also because he remembers your first date a lot, he tries to get you flowers whenever he can
•okay this next one is probably my favorite hc
•when he is driving and he spots a field of flowers
•he will pull over to the side of the road to pick you a fresh bouquet
•PLEASE KIND SIR I WOULD DIE FOR YOU
•okay so obviously he dyes his hair
•you always help him make sure that the lines of brown are exactly where he wants them
•kyotani will stand in between your legs as you sit on the bathroom counter painting his hair
•he once let you do a fun design on his hair too
•like i mentioned i think his love language is physical touch so i think he really enjoys head massages
•he isn’t super big on PDA but he will hold your hand in public
•when it’s just the two of you, he likes to rest his head on your lap
•he likes feeling close to you
•he absolutely ADORES you and would honestly be so lost without you
•you bring the best out of him, loving all his rough patches that he dislikes
The first “I love you”
•he knew he loved you far before he even told you
•he knew he wanted to tell you, he just didn’t know how
•he wasn’t sure if he should go the casual route or make a grand gesture
•he planned on doing the grand gesture
•he ended up just blurting it out
•you were at one of his volleyball matches
•front row of course
•he would glance over to you every few seconds to make sure you were enjoying yourself
•you would shout his name, cheer him on
•his teammates thought it was cute
•it was a pretty important match and it was game point
•kyotani was up to serve
•a perfect ace
•you were absolutely over the moon
•you rushed onto the court, not even thinking twice
•kyotani embraced you in a tight hug as the crowd continued to roar
•you whispered how proud you were of him
•he whispered that he loved you
•he looked at you with widened eyes, fearing that he shouldn’t have said that
•the kiss you gave him reassured him that you felt the same
•he says I love you a lot now
•he just can’t believe that someone as wonderful as you would love him too
•you always say it back as well
•also he never says “love you”
•it’s ALWAYS “I love you Y/N”
Extra HC’s
•i'm not sure why but i have a feeling he is lowkey a gamer??
•like not kenma level but enough to be pretty good
•he likes to game while you sit next to him, either just head on his chest or you’re doing your own thing
•he lets you paint his nails (usually just black though or a dark blue)
•you two have a lot of matching hats
•he wears a beanie all winter to keep his head warm
•he once asked you if you liked the idea of him wearing rings and you stopped functioning
•he now wears some nice rings hehe
•kyotani bought the two of you mini cacti
•his has a little yellow flower on top of it
•he isn’t one to use a lot of pet names but when he does it’s usually a “honey” or “sweetheart”
•he enjoys going on different date adventures so you’ve never gone on the same date twice (unless you really want to)
•he has a really deep singing voice and ONLY lets you hear it
•also besides volleyball, in the summer time he is part of a baseball league
•he grew out of the whole “being angry all the time” thing in high school, now he is just a little more reserved
•he’s protective of you but not to the point where it’s annoying
•he just wants to make sure you are safe and happy at all times :))
in conclusion show my mans more love😌💕 hope you enjoyed, reblogs are greatly appreciated :))
[general taglist (form in masterlist) : @lealofsblog @iwaisa @bakugousmymassa @evivn1 @tetsoleil @bokutory @vangoghmusings @moonlightaangel @complimentaryhugsgirl @marajillana @sopesmin @alaina-rose13 @shotoful ]
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solliewriter · 3 years
Text
Archery for Writers
In this post, I'll basically tell you the small stuff: e.g., what your archer will complain about to other archers, how different bows sound, what it's like shooting in the rain or snow, finding the goddamn arrows, etc. I’m also going into technical details and will discuss the legendary Robin Hood shot.
If you want a good basic primer, T.S. Strange on Instagram did a pretty good job https://www.instagram.com/p/COat-W1rQ7o/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
But, if you're ready for beyond the basics, I've got you covered.
To be clear, my knowledge of archery is primarily Western traditional archery. PLEASE research the history of the type of bow you choose as they’re all unique. There’s a reason why Mongolian bows are so different than English longbows.
I have primarily shot in thick, brushy forest (not parks, actual wilderness), so when you read, that I'm talking about that setting unless specified. My favored bow is a reflex/deflex, which is basically a recurve/longbow hybrid. I have also been doing archery for as long as I can remember, so yes I know how to shoot.
SOUNDS
Different bows make different sounds. Recurve bows are loud. They make this twangy sound when you use them, unless you put a silencer on the string. This silencer is usually a fluff-type thing that is woven around and through the string. The silencer doesn't make them perfectly silent. It's more of a muffler than a silencer.
Longbows are quieter, but they still make noise. It's short, grunt-like hum that usually only the archer and their immediate compatriots can hear.
For Your Character (FYC): a recurve archer and a longbow archer will very likely pester each other about noise.
SIGHT, pt1
You can shoot blind. Sorta. No, you can't put on a blindfold and still hit your target, but you can and will extrapolate what you see. As mentioned, I've done almost all of my shooting in the forest, in the mountains. Visibility is  less than perfect. You have to aim through hundreds of branches, and the likelihood of hitting a branch and sending your arrow flying into No Man's Land is very likely as a beginner and amateur. Shooting through the forest isn't like in Lord of the Rings or Hunger Games, unless that forest is a well maintained park with marked trails made by things other than deer and bear. (FYI, bear trails are perfect for humans.) Half the time, if you move an inch the wrong way, your arrow will be way off target. Missing by an inch means missing by several feet, which is really far in archery.
More than once, you see your target at one angle, but can't shoot it at another. I've experienced this frequently because my Viking sized dad will pick targets that I, his 5'2" daughter, am too short to see. I have to stand on tip toes to see his target, then lower myself into almost a crouch to shoot. I still hit the target.
FYC: Besides the obvious banter that comes from discussing height differences, there are a few other things to note. In the forest, it can be hard to find two good angles to shoot something. This can lead to frustration, complaining, attempts to get the other archer out of the way, and etc.
SIGHT, pt 2
I’m talking about recurve/longbows, so there are no actual sights to look through. 
This is where things are controversial. There’s a gap shooting and an instinctive shooting. Gap shooters guess the distance, then aim. Instinctive shooters just sorta ... wing it.
I’m not going to throw shade at either method. But here’s a key reason why one would use one style or another: gap shooting is largely ineffective in mountainous, forested terrain when you can’t really see much. So, if you have an archer from a prairie and an archer from the mountains, it’s likely they use different aiming styles.
Side note: Flu-flu shots are unique and fun shots that use big feathery arrows. You shoot nearly straight up in hopes of getting your arrow on top of the target rather than straight toward it. When doing this, you can either look at the target or look at your arrow angle, but you can't do both at the same time. You have to shoot blind. Flu-flu shots aren't good for killing creatures, but they are pure fun. This is a good example of using instinctive shooting rather than gap shooting. Also, flu-flu shots are prone to being highly effective by the wind, and it’s very easy to get them stuck in a tree for all eternity. There’s a shooting area my roving family calls “The Valley of Lost Flu-Flu’s.” It’s called this for very good reason.
SMELLS
Bows don't smell, unless you've just added beeswax to the string (strings fray, wax stops that). Arrows smell for about a day after you paint them and glue them.
Leather, however, smells and remains smelly forever. I personally like the smell (though I suppose I'm actually smelling the oil, not the leather). It's very hard to describe, partially because I have so many memories involved. Unfortunately, I have to leave this to you. Just note, leather from armguards, quivers, and pouches don't smell the same as couches and your typical urbanite materials. Find your hippie friend and ask them to make you a leather bracelet or something. That'll teach you the smell.
FYC: Your archer will have very strong memories associated with the smell of leather and beeswax. They will be warm fuzzy memories.
TOUCH, aka shooting in the cold weather
All right, it's cold, and your character is wearing a big coat. Big, puffy sleeves to fit all those layers beneath. No biggie, just nock the arrow, draw, and shoot ...
FWAP!
The string hits the character's coat sleeve. The arrow goes about ten feet before falling limp to the ground like a sad puppy.
To fix this, you need to tie a thick band around your character's sleeve. Easy peasy.
Now, your OC tries shooting again. Unfortunately, it’s been raining, so to their dismay, they've noticed that their turkey fletchings (standard in the western US states) have flattened and shrunk. It looks like there is barely any fletching at all. Fear not, the arrow will still fly. It'll just make aiming a bit harder, but not terribly worse. Those fletchings are just stabilizers.
Your OC goes home. When they take off their shooting glove/tab, they notice their fingers are yellow. Oh no! Don't worry, your OC is not sick, the dye has just come off the leather in the rain. It'll wash off, but it'll probably happen every time the leather gets wet for the next few months unless your OC makes a new glove/tab that isn't dyed.
LEFTIE VS RIGHTIE
It is extremely uncommon to find a left-handed archer. This is because even if someone’s right-handed doing their day-to-day things, it doesn’t mean they’re going to be right-handed for archery.
In archery, whether you shoot left or right handed is determined by your eye dominance. Most people are right-eyed dominant, so much so it’s very hard for a left-eye dominant archer (such as myself) to find new bows. And I mean really hard. Go anywhere and there’s a severe shortage of left-dominant archery gear simply because it’s that rare (hah I’m special- jk).
BOWS
There are manufactured bows (lame), and there are good bows. Yes, there’s a huge difference.
I’m not sure of the technical terms, but here’s my experience.
Manufactured bows, i.e., the cheap bows you find at a renaissance fair, are typically made from a type of plastic. Good traditional bows, from almost any country, are custom-made from wood that the bowyer (bow-maker) has shaped, treated, and glued.
Bows are a lot like musical instruments. Essentially, manufactured bows (or guitars, violins, etc.) are poor quality because they’re made of cheap materials which make the shooting quality less than superb (more on that later), and because they aren’t given the attention they need, which makes them of lesser quality because they’re just ... eh. Special treatment makes for a better bow.
Like musical instruments, there are a lot of different types. Most websites say there are only four (recurve, longbow, compound, and crossbow), but that’s not quite true. These acknowledge the four general shapes of a bow, but not the subtypes. For example, Mongolian bows are recurves, but tend to be shorter than Western recurves because Mongolian recurves are meant to be shot on horseback.
SHOOTING QUALITY 
So, what is it like shooting a good bow?
Again, I’m speaking from experience with recurves, longbows, and reflexes.
A good bow has good speed. It moves the arrow faster than slower. This is a relative scale because recurves shoot arrows faster than longbows, and reflex/deflex tend to shoot faster than longbows but slower than recurves.
WEIGHT
Is it possible for people to have pulled 100 pounds of weight in a bow back in the olden days, or are people just confused?
Yes, it’s possible.
My dad, who used to do archery once or twice a week, had a 100 pound bow that he shot fairly regularly. That was before his shoulder injuries and, y’know, age. 
Also note that he’s practically a Viking.
I pulled 50 pounds at 28 inches when I was doing it regularly, although now I probably have to go back to 45 pounds.
BASIC SHOOTING FORM
This is going to be heavily effected by your character’s culture, bow, and upbringing.
There’s the English, upright stance for shooting a longbow. The archer stands very straight, and their pull hand goes to anywhere between the lip and the ear.
There’s the forest stance, which is my own, and that’s slightly bent over to avoid string-slaps, finger to cheekbone. Also, I made up the forest stance, so don’t Google it.
Then there’s Walt Wilhem, who, due to physical disability, had to shoot from the hip and was still one of the best archers in the world. Watch the video of him and his brother:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=np8u69YfSA8
THE ROBIN HOOD SHOT
This is actually very attainable. I’ve done it six times. My dad has done it about 30 times. I have a friend who did it about 25 times.
In order for this situation to realistically happen (if you’re writing something unrealistic, you really shouldn’t bother reading all of this), the character needs to prep a few things.
1. Years of experience. At least six, and that’s assuming your archer shoots at least seven hours a week, without missing an hour.
 2. At six years the archer might get a few Robin Hood shots. Very likely, it’ll be at a shorter distance and the arrow they’re shooting will be cross-wise instead of straight down the shaft.
3. At ten years, it’s quite likely your Robin Hood has shot straight down the shaft a few times.
4. Your Robin Hood must seek to improve every week.
SOME QUICK TIPS
unless you’re Walt Wilhem, you always pull from your back, not your arm
you never fire an arrow
back quivers are quieter and more mobile than hip quivers (suck it hipsters)
it takes practice and long fingers, but it’s quite doable to hold both a bow and an arrow in one hand while shooting
there is a system for very fast nocking 
beginners have no clue what this system is and so take several minutes to nock their arrow.
contrast, it takes a second for an experienced archer.
someone who doesn’t take long to aim is often called a snap shooter, and this isn’t exactly complimentary.
This ought to take you far in your journey of writing an archer. I’ve been sitting on this post for about a year now, but still need to add to it. PLEASE google the following in case I don’t get to sharing the info.
arrow breakage
bow breaking
materials for arrows
types of wood for bows
types of wood for arrows
arrow spine weight
bow tuning
bow shelfs
different forms
holding a bow
stringing a bow
bow at rest
temperatures + bows
fletching types
aerodynamics 
quivers
moving around
how to find the goddamn arrows
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shugojima · 3 years
Text
𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 𝐌𝐢𝐲𝐚 🍋🏃‍♀️🔞
I was on my way to Atsumu, a classmate of mine who wanted to have me over for a movie night.
I agreed althought I wasn't really sure where this is even going. I was new at Inarizaki and didn't know many people.
He seemed like the kind of guy that already did a lot of date nights before and I really wasn't goin to be another one of his slutty ass girls but he was cute so... here I am.
Standing outside the house that had a huge "Miya" sign besides the front door.
"Tsumu!! Get yer ass downstairs that's probably one of those hoes again!" I heard someone screaming.
His dad perhaps? Does he have siblings?
"SHITHEAD!! YA HEAR ME?!!"
No answer.
"FIIIINE...."
I heard loud footsteps a few seconds later the door opened and...
"Atsumu? Did you dye your hair?" I asked and he just stood there laughing now leaning against the door.
"If ya call me that again I'll have to bathe ma ears in bleach." He said and I started to realize....
"He has a twin??" I pointed out mouth wide open.
"Samu. I'm the better version of that stupid pisshead. And you are?"
he asked raising a brow and checking me up.
"I'm Y/n. Nice to meet you but where is he?"
"He's not home. Ya guys fuckin?" he blankely asked and I felt my head turn red.
"Wha-... Nooo.. No we're just friends I guess." I stuttered looking anywhere but at his twin.
He walked up to me, put his fingers under my chin, turning my head so our eyes met.
"Means I don't have to feel bad afterwards?"
he asked smirking.
"I-... What?" I needed to hear that again. Does he...
"Ya know I was just wondering if you'd really prefer ugly ass childish yellow over mature, experienced grey..."
I was pretty sure I knew what he was talking about and I decided to play along. Me and Atsumu aren't something anyways so...
"I don't now... That might depend on what grey actually is experienced in."
I said an innocent smile on my face.
He pulled me inside closing the door shut before slamming me against it holding down my wrists.
"Ya really wanna find out?"
"How should I know what's to prefer if I don't find out myself?" I whispered in his ear and placed my leg on his inner thigh going up and down.
"Well... Ya asked for it, pretty girl."
he said giving me an intense kiss, his tongue fighting with mine making me wet from only feeling him in my mouth.
He kneeled before me hands sliding up my legs under my short skirt.
The way he touched me was immaculate. He knew where. And how.
'Experienced'...
Samu started placing kisses on my thigh and before he could reach my most sensitive part I grabbed his hair forcing him to look up to me.
"You better eat me out real good cause If not, I might just end up fucking your brother." I said and this, you could tell caught him off guard.
"Try me, bitch."
he growled before roughly ripping off my panties throwing them away.
His head disapeared between my legs and a second later I felt his large wet tongue between my lips, sweetly spreading them apart.
I pushed him against my soaking hole where he easily entered making me moan out loud.
"Nghhh fuck... ahh"
I swear I knew he was smiling this exact moment.
His tongue skillfully circled my clit as he started sucking on my most sensitive spot.
"Ngghhhhh for.. fucks sake...."
I'm already close how is this so good??
Going faster he ate me out like he was starving for weeks.
He pulled away looking at me, nose all wet from my dripping pussy.
"It doesn't matter if ya go fuck Tsumu or not. You'll be coming back to me either way." He said continuing to pleasure me.
"How do y.... nghhhh.. I'm gonna cum.. I-..."
"Say ma name while ya cum all over ma face, babe."
He started sucking harder making me go feral on his mouth. He slightly bit into my clit and I exploded all over his sweet lips, covering them in my cum.
"Ahhhggh nghhh... FUCKING HELL.. SAAMUUU!" I've never been so loud but I couldn't care less.
I was shaking so bad and I thought my legs were giving up on me but Samu pulled me up dragging me upstairs to his room.
"Samu? What are you doing?"
"Huh? We cuddle. I'm a gentleman after all."
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plaidbooks · 3 years
Text
Cabin Life - First Time
A/N: Here’s a part three to woodsman!Sonny! I love him so much, okay? Once again, a special shoutout to @berniesilvas who spawned all of this and kept the thought process going! This also loosely covers the Fireplace square in @storiesofsvu fall bingo (I hope haha!)
Tags: smut, p in v sex, very little bit of cum play/eating, but not much
Words: 1980
Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart  @beccabarba  @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy  @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl  @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas​ @reading--mermaid  @averyhotchner  @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31
As the months turned chillier and snowier, you found yourself drawn to Sonny for warmth. He, of course, wouldn’t make you walk to his place in that cold; he had an ATV that he’d ride to pick you up, with an extra helmet for you. Sometimes, you went into town, eating at a local diner together, or watching a movie. Other times, you went to his place. He’d make you dinner, and you’d both talk about life, philosophy, your hopes and dreams, anything really.
You noticed that all of his utensils were made of wood, and you finally asked, “did you make these?”
He glanced at the wooden spoon in his hand that he was currently using to stir some sort of heavenly-smelling gravy. “Oh, uh, yeah, I did. My pa taught me to woodwork as a kid. I love whittlin’ more than anything else.” Besides you…he didn’t say it out loud, but you could still hear the words.
You and Sonny still hadn’t said that little four lettered word yet, but you knew it was true. It was there in the way he smiled at you, the way he draped his jacket over your shoulders when you shivered, the way he kissed your cheek.
“That’s adorable; I love that. Have you tried selling anything you’ve whittled?” you asked.
He shook his head, glancing at you before going back to cooking. “Nah; no one here needs any of these things. Besides, I don’t feel right sellin’ ‘em; they’re somethin’ personal, made as gifts for specific people.”
Your heart fluttered; that was probably the cutest thing you’d ever heard.
************************
Dinner was delicious; Sonny had cooked fish from the stream by his cabin, seasoning it with his own herbs and a sauce he had made from scratch. The side dish was sauteed vegetables from his garden. You wished that you could eat it all again as soon as you finished.
If I marry him, I could eat his meals for the rest of my life…you thought, then felt heat in your cheeks.
“Are ya okay? Too warm?” he asked, moving to pull the blanket from your lap. You were nestled with him on the couch, staying warm by the fireplace and the blanket.
“O-oh! No, I’m fine, sorry—”
“Are ya cold? I have another blanket on my bed that I can go grab—”
“Really, I’m fine. Thank you,” you replied, flustered. Desperate to change the subject, you asked, “wait, do you only have one blanket besides your bedding?”
He blinked at you. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Yes! Sonny, babe, it gets cold here! I know it’s only been light snow, but it’ll get heavier,” you explained.
He grinned. “That’s why I have the fireplace, blanket, and heavy jackets.”
You rolled your eyes in exasperation. “That might not be enough.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
You wanted to argue more, but you already had an idea forming in your mind. So, you let it go, resolving to visit your supply of wool from the last sheep shearing your parents did.
*************************
It was hard keeping your project a secret from Sonny, especially since you were determined to see him before the blizzards started. Your time was spent either at your loom, or with Sonny at his place. But finally, your gift to him was done, and just before the weather took a turn.
A huge storm was said to be coming through, so you spent the last supposedly clear night at his place, intending to hunker down at home throughout the blizzard. You showed up on his doorstep with a huge bundle of wool material in your arms.
“What’s all this?” Sonny asked as you came inside. He had an open-door policy; he didn’t lock his door during the day, inviting people to just come on in. You were sure he wouldn’t lock it at night, either, if it wasn’t for bears.
You dropped the material on the back of his couch. “I thought you may like some of these during the storm,” you explained. You lifted a blue blanket—you had blue like his eyes, green, red, and yellow—to show him, and he took it, running his fingers over the softness.
“I—I don’t want ya family to be without….”
You smiled at him. “Oh no; we have so many blankets. Besides, I made them for you; there’s four total.”
“Wait…ya made these?”
Your grin grew. “I did; my parents are sheep shepherds. I have a loom, and I make my own dyes. I love making blankets, curtains, jackets—”
“I love ya,” Sonny said, awe filling his voice. He placed the blanket back on his couch, turning to face you, your eyes wide at his confession. “I love ya, doll. I really do; I love ya more than anythin’—”
You cut him off with a hug that almost knocked him off his feet. “Do you love me more than whittling?” you teased, leaning back to smirk at him.
“Absolutely, I do—”
He didn’t get much more to say before you were lifting to your tiptoes, kissing him deeply. He leaned forward into you, crushing your lips in a bruising kiss, his arms wrapping around you.
“Thank ya fer the blankets,” he murmured against your lips before kissing you again. You hummed back, your hand trailing from his chest, heading south. When you cupped his growing bulge, he leaned back, searching your face through heavily lidded eyes.
“Bedroom?” he huffed out.
“Here, now,” you replied, kissing him again. He groaned into your mouth as you rubbed him, fingers gripping him gently.
Reluctantly, he pulled away from you. “I can wash these blankets, right?” he asked.
Confused, you nodded. He took one blanket, placing it on the couch cushions. Then he took two more, laying them down on the floor in front of the fireplace. Finally, he shrugged out of his shirt and jacket, and your eyes widened at the corded muscles in his lean body. He had always worn such baggy clothing, you had no idea what he looked like underneath it all…outside of your first date, when he had a tight shirt on.
Sonny caught you staring and smirked, eyes watching you as he undid his belt. You suddenly felt over dressed, and you quickly stripped your clothes as he pulled his pants and underwear down and off. He froze when he saw you, eyes obviously scanning your body, your eyes doing the same to him. You felt your mouth water at the sight of his long cock standing erect.
“Ya look beautiful…absolutely stunning, doll,” he murmured. Your heart fluttered as your cheeks heated. “Lay by the fire,” he ordered softly. You did as he asked, and he took the last blanket, wrapping it around his bare shoulders. You had made sure to make the blankets huge, and you were happy to see it was long enough for his tall body.
Slowly, Sonny came to stand by your feet before lowering his body down over you. He cocooned your body in warmth from him and from the blanket, the wool soft on your skin. He smiled down at you, cupping your cheek, before he kissed you deeply. You wrapped your arms around his back, pulling him closer to you.
You didn’t need to beg for him; it was like he could sense what you needed, and what you needed was him inside you. He angled his hips so that the tip was pushing through your folds, and you spread your legs wider for him. He nipped your lip, then leaned back to watch your face as he pushed inch after inch into you. Your jaw dropped open at the feel of him stretching you, and you gasped his name, your nails leaving little crescent marks in his skin.
He stopped once he was fully inside you, waiting for you to give him the okay. You nodded, breathing out a soft, “I’m ready,” before he pulled out slowly, and gingerly pushed back in.
Your body was like a livewire, jolting with every touch he gave you. And boy, did he not stop touching you. His pace was slow, sensual, like he wanted to make love to you all night long. And his mouth was everywhere, kissing and licking your skin, sucking marks into you, his beard creating a delicious burn everywhere it touched.
He whispered sweet words to you, praising your very existence, and telling you how much he loves you. He gushed about what he wants his future to be, and every moment of it involved you in some way.
“I want ta grow old with ya, doll. I knew from the moment I met ya that I wanted ta be ya husband. I want ta support ya, make all ya dreams come true. I want ya, now and forever,” he murmured into the crook of your neck, and you gasped. “Ya don’t haveta say it back yet—”
“I love you, Sonny. Fuck, I love you so much. And I would be honored to marry s—someone like you,” you choked out, a moan escaping your lips.
He rose himself onto his elbow to look down at you before he kissed you, swallowing your moans as he moved faster. One of his hands wiggled between your bodies, and the rough pad of his thumb found your swollen clit. His lips stayed on yours as he stroked you, your orgasm building quickly.
Sonny leaned back just enough to whisper against your lips, “let go fer me, doll; I’m there, too.” He continued stroking you, kissing your jaw, and you squeezed your eyes shut, gasping and moaning as he coaxed your orgasm from you. You gripped his biceps hard enough to bruise, and just as you started to come down, he huffed out a breath, along with your name. His cock twitched inside you, and he quickly pulled out. He barely wrapped his hand around himself before he was shooting his release onto your belly, his jaw dropping in a silent moan. You panted as his hot seed landed on your skin, and he stroked out every last drop.
“L—let me get a washcloth,” he muttered, but before he could so much as lean back, you ran your finger through his release, then licked it, moaning softly at the taste. His eyes darkened, and you thought he was about to shove you onto the floor and fuck your brains out, but he instead stood, heading for his bathroom.
The fire burning next to you was warm, but even that couldn’t stop the chill that ran through you from the cold, winter air. You suddenly realized why he had put that blanket on the couch cushions, and you reached for it just as he came back.
“Hold on; lemme clean ya before I bundle ya up,” he said, squatting down. He had soaked the washcloth in hot water, and the warmth as he wiped his release from you made goosebumps appear. Once done, he helped you stand.
“Hold,” he ordered, giving you an end of the blanket. You took it, and he walked around you, wrapping you tightly in the material. Sonny gestured for you to sit, and you did, collapsing onto his couch, swaddled, warm, and in love. He wrapped himself in the other blanket before sitting down next to you.
“I love you, Sonny,” you muttered, leaning against him.
He grinned, nuzzling as well as he could against you. “I love ya, too, doll. Let’s just relax for a little bit ‘fore I take ya home fer the night.”
You agreed, then unwrapped yourself. He rose an eyebrow to look at you, and you opened his blanket before scooting against his naked body, then rewrapped the blankets around you. His smile grew, and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his side.
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tealquacks · 4 years
Text
They Share a Kitchen 3: Grocery Gathering
Originally posted here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24317644/chapters/58625389
@alexalexisalexej
I’m sorry this took so long, but I hope y’all enjoy!
It had been a little over a week since Remus made the croissants, and the daily routines still hadn’t quite recovered. At breakfast, Virgil showed up ten minutes later than usual, and stood nervously in the doorway, checking to make sure nobody unexpected would be in the kitchen. Roman never came to visit the kitchen, but Patton brought him meals three times a day— 9:30 am, 1:20 pm, and 5:50 pm. Virgil would occasionally join him. 
Patton and Janus still met for tea every single day, but they never stayed in the kitchen anymore. Patton would ask Janus to take walks with him. They’d stroll through Roman’s side of the imagination, then drink their tea and talk. The only reason Logan knew this was because Patton brought it up at dinner one night. Virgil left shortly after. 
The only people who remained unaffected were Remus and him. They kept to their usual schedules. Except now Logan found himself staying up late to talk to Remus while he cooked. He had yet to make paella— something about wanting to save it for a special occasion.
Every day felt like a special occasion. Logan couldn’t help but stare at the charts he had made, one pre-Remus, and one post-Remus. Color coded and organized. Pristine.
“It’s surprising,” Logan had said at breakfast that morning, eating some waffles Patton had made, “that Remus spending one day in the kitchen threw all of our schedules into chaos.”
Virgil glared at him silently. Patton stared down blankly at his waffles.
“I don’t like him,” Patton murmured.
“You seem to get along with Deceit just fine,” Virgil spat, lip twitching in silent anger. Patton sighed.
“His name is Janus, Virgil. Be polite.”
“Why should I care?”
“Because it’s rude to call him Deceit— Logan, how would you feel if we only called you Logic?”
Logan sat straight. If he said he didn’t care, that would be mostly honest. If he said he did care, that would make it seem he had some sort of emotional attachment to his name. He swallowed.
“I don’t care either way. However, Janus now seems to prefer we address him by his real name. Besides, deceit is not his only function.”
Virgil rolled his eyes, staring angrily down at his plate of waffles. That was the end of the conversation at the breakfast table. Logan ate in silence, slowly sipping water out of a glass with a lemon on the rim. 
Now, he sat at his desk. The clock said it was 2:28 pm. The kitchen would be perfectly empty, since Virgil and Patton no longer had their little talks in the kitchen. Logan didn’t know where they went, and he didn’t care to ask. Of course he worried about them, but he didn’t think where they talked mattered so much. He set down his pen, thinking of when Roman had run from the kitchen in horror, Remus doing nothing but sitting at the table.
Suddenly, someone knocked at his door. Logan stood from his comfortable office chair, and walked to the door. He adjusted his tie and smoothed his hair down before calmly opening it. That calm facade almost broke when he saw Remus on the other side, wearing a painfully bright yellow bucket hat, a fishnet shirt, and a green pair of cargo shorts. He had a bag slung over his shoulder.
“Hello, Remus.”
“You remember how you said I should make paella? Well I thought real long and hard and I thought that you could not only help me with the cooking but you could also help me with gathering the shit that goes in it! Like clams and mussels. One recipe says squid but I’ve honestly never cooked with squid and I’m not interested in fucking with that.”
Logan blinked, slowly trying to take in the information, and the sight of Remus before him. Remus never came to his room. Nobody did. It seemed like there had been an unspoken rule made, that he was never to be interrupted. Now the matter at hand.
“You want me to accompany you in collecting the ingredients?”
Remus nodded violently, causing the bright hat to flop off his head. He picked it up, and put it back on. Logan blinked.
“I’ll take that as a yes. And this involves going under the water?”
“No shit Sherlock! That’s where the mussels are! Unless you count these guns—“ Remus flexed his arms, a stunning smile on his face. Logan looked at the bag he carried, then to the yellow hat on his head.
“I think it would be best if you changed into something more… sensible.”
Remus wagged his brows, leaning up against the doorway.
“Oh don’t worry, I’m wearing a speedo under these shorts.”
“I meant the hat. It will make you very, very visible.”
“It’s okay,” Remus rebutted, “I think fish are colorblind. Maybe. Do you know?”
Logan gnawed on the inside of his lip. He didn’t know. He couldn’t say so, that would be seen as weakness. But Remus was… different, somehow, uncaring about strength and weakness. He took a slow, deep breath.
“I honestly don’t know,” Logan responded, “most fish only see two colors, but I’m unsure how many can see yellow. However, if your plans are to go underwater, it would be wise to forgo the hat.”
Remus shrugged, took off his hat, and tossed it into Logan’s room. It landed on the neat sheets of his bed.
“We won’t be in the water the whole time,” Remus said, “we still have to get other things? Like, erm, I don’t have the recipe on me but we’re almost out of apples, and honey— honey will be a bitch to get but you know what I have?”
Logan furrowed his brows, staring at the bag.
“A beekeeping suit, a smoker, and an apiary of some sort?”
“Nope! Just my morning star and overwhelming hubris!”
Logan didn't know what he’d expected. Of course Remus wouldn’t go about getting honey in any sort of logical way. 
“There are other things we will need.”
“You have a special request?”
Logan shook his head.
“I don’t. But paella requires saffron,” Logan explained. “Saffron is derived from the stigma of Crocus sativus.”
“Huh? What’s uh….” Remus trailed off, snapping his fingers a few times. “What’s the common name of that?”
“They are also known as autumn crocus, or saffron crocus. Do you know where these flowers grow?”
Remus raised his eyebrows, tapping his fingers to one another— thumb to index, thumb to middle, thumb to ring, thumb to pinkie. 
“Lemme think… I have a spice garden in my side, but I didn’t know that saffron came from a fucking flower! But I do have a bit of land I could… flowers. Goddamn! Saffron from flowers! That’s pretty cool! I have to ask— how did people think of putting it on shit?”
Logan suppressed a smile as Remus flapped one of his hands a little. It felt nice, being asked harmless questions, not being interrupted. Even then, he couldn’t help but wait for the other shoe to drop, for Remus to tell him to shut up. He took a deep breath.
“It is commonly believed that saffron originated in Greece, however most of it is grown in Iran, I believe.” He paused, giving Remus ample time to say something. Instead, Remus waved his hand at him.
“Well? Go on.” 
Logan shifted from foot to foot.
“Saffron is incredibly expensive due to the fact that one flower only produces three strands when it blooms, and the flowers only bloom for one week each year. Saffron has been used and cultivated by humans for more than three thousand and five hundred years, and has been used not only as a seasoning, but also as a dye, fragrance, and medicine.”
Remus grinned, eyebrows raised. 
“Cocaine used to be used as a medicine! Freud diagnosed it to some of his patients for depression, I think! Did you know that cocaine, like meth, can cause people to hallucinate vermin crawling under their skin? And they’ll scratch at their skins to get them out!”
“Ah, yes, delusional parasitosis, also called formication.”
“Fornication?”
Logan shook his head.
“I doubt formication and fornication could be mistaken for one another, unless ones idea of fornication is subdermal penetration.”
“Oh, talk dirty to me!” Remus cried, rolling his shoulders. Logan couldn’t stop his lips from twitching up into a small smile, but turned his expression back to a straight face as quickly as he could. 
“So what are you looking to retrieve?” Logan asked. Remus reached into one of the many pockets of his cargo shorts, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He dramatically unfolded it.
“Apples, honey, saffron, I guess, and mussels and clams and whatever else we may find. So is that a yes?”
Logan paused for a moment. He’d been to Roman’s side of the imagination, and the land was bright and beautiful, filled with fantastical creatures and lush landscapes. However, Remus was the opposite of Roman, or at least the bits of creativity that Thomas considered unpleasant enough to purge from his consciousness. So what did that include? The horrifying, the macabre, and the explicit. Dicks, drugs, and the disturbing. None of it could hurt him. And judging by the fact Remus sought him out to come with him, he wouldn’t even be threatened. As long as he was cautious, he would remain unharmed during their journey. That was reasonable enough to assume.
 But what about the others? He would be expected back at dinner, which was at five pm. That would only give him two and a half hours with Remus, and time seemed to go much faster while around him, probably something to do with how Remus’ nature distorted reality around him, that reality including the way one would perceive time passing. Logan looked into his room. If he left the door closed, the others wouldn’t bother him. Patton would leave dinner outside of his door, he’d done it before, many times, but he wouldn’t come in. So he could miss dinner. If they asked questions, he could say he was busy. And they’d believe him.
Logan stared at the yellow bucket hat, garish and blinding on top of his sheets. He swallowed.
“Yes, I will accompany you.”
Remus flapped his hands expressively, smiling like a million and a half suns. He hopped from foot to foot, then did a little spin. 
“Fuck yeah! I’ll let you get changed, meet me in the kitchen as soon as possible! It’ll be so much fun!”
Just as Logan opened his mouth to tell Remus he would be wearing his usual clothing, Remus sprinted away. He let out a deep sigh. He wore his usual outfit— black dress pants, a black polo, indigo tie, dress shoes. Comfortable and professional. If he were to open his closet, there would be exact clones of the exact same outfit. Of course there was always the clothing he wore on Halloween, but a bulky, velveteen coat would be even less practical. The Sherlock costume would be out of the question, and he’d long since gotten rid of his onesie. 
So that left him in his typical outfit. However, the tie around his throat could possibly get caught and damaged. Logan touched his striped indigo tie, and slowly loosened it. Halfway through doing so, he realized he would look like an absolute fool without his tie. Even to Remus. Logan pulled the tie tight, so tight it almost choked him, and walked out of his room, slowly shutting the door behind him.
Logan silently crept through the hallway then down the stairs, making sure to skip the one squeaky step. If Virgil caught him with Remus, willingly spending time with him… well, he didn’t know how he would react. Virgil hated him, saw him as a nuisance, and there certainly was some history between the two of them. He had no clue what, despite the fact Virgil had once been a ‘dark’ side. 
He stepped into the kitchen. Remus sat on the table, kicking his legs back and forth. Somehow, even wearing those ridiculous clothes, he looked like he belonged in the kitchen. Logan pushed his glasses up. Remus smiled at him, hopping off of the table and grabbing his arm in a tight grip. His hands felt burning hot.
“Are you ready to go?”
Was he? If the others—
“—Yes, I am.”
Remus tugged on his arm, and they both sunk down into the white tile of the kitchen floor.
A gust of warm, sweet air hit him in the face. Logan gasped at the sensation, staggering backwards. He tripped on a stone, and landed on his ass in tall grass. All around them grew wildflowers and grass, and the clouds gently danced in the sky. The flowers swayed in the wind, blossoms of all hues growing around them. Truly, a beautiful landscape. Strange.
“Is this your side of the imagination?” Logan asked, ignoring Remus’ offered hand in favor of standing up by himself. 
“Yup! Wild and uncivilized. I had an idea for a monster— it’s an intelligent being that’s made of fungi that connects to the roots of plants, like how a brain makes neuron paths! Earth brain! We’re currently standing upon the brain of the smartest being in the imagination! Well, except for you, now that you’re here.”
Logan nervously looked down at his feet, face flushed. He really didn’t want to ask what the thing looked like, but his curiosity begged him to. His ego, meanwhile, preened at the small praise.
“Does it have a body?” Logan asked, “does it need to feed?”
“Yes to both questions!” Remus proclaimed, “The body is like. Laying down sort of? It’s like a big, smart pancake! And it eats! Don’t worry, it won’t eat us. Or any other side. Or cows since it’s lactose intolerant. But it won’t eat any sentient beings, like us sides! Except for Roman and his creations of course.”
Logan raised an eyebrow.
“Why only him?”
Remus twirled around, then pointed off into the distance. Logan looked to where he was pointing, and there in the horizon he spotted a massive palace, one he immediately recognized as belonging to Roman.. 
Remus opened his mouth, then suddenly shut it, a manic smile splitting his face. 
“Look, here comes a unicorn! Oh, you’ll love this.”
And just as Remus had said, a white stallion with a gleaming horn pranced into the field of flowers. It wandered forward, then bent down and started to graze. As it opened its mouth to take a bite, the plants suddenly burst to life, wrapping around the unicorn. It fought and kicked as the thick grass dragged it to the ground— no, into the ground, as if the prairie earth had turned into quicksand. The unicorn whinnied and thrashed, until it was pulled fully under the ground, horn disappearing in the thick foliage. 
“It absorbs its prey, like a protist.” Logan said breathlessly. If he could feel, he wouldn’t know if he felt shocked or impressed. 
“Yeah! This land, in like a mile wide stripe, is the border between my land and Roman’s. And I don’t want anything to do with his shit. So anything that comes over here gets chomped up by Bartholomew!”
“Bartholomew?” Logan asked.
Remus crouched, patting the ground. He flopped onto his front, pressing a little kiss to the earth.
“It goes by Bart for short. And don’t worry, we had a conversation and it’s fine with it/its pronouns. Anyways what should we get first?”
Logan stared at the earth, shifting from foot to foot. Thousands of questions were bubbling in his head, but Remus had brought him to gather ingredients, not to ask questions. 
“Apples,” he croaked out. Remus leapt to his feet, looking him in the eye.
“I said it won’t absorb you. It only eats Roman and Roman’s shit. And even if you did get eaten, you’d be able to sink out. You’re safe.”
Logan inhaled slowly, then let out a deep breath. He didn’t care if he was safe. He wanted to ask how Bartholomew dissolved its prey, what acid it used to break down prey, he wanted to ask about the ph of the soil—
“Let’s go get the apples,” Logan insisted.
Remus nodded.
“The orchard is like, ten miles away? I don’t know but I can teleport us. Will it make you puke? Since Jannie told me that when he and Patton were in the imagination they saw Roman and Roman teleported them away from him and then Patton puked his guts up!”
“I don’t puke,” Logan explained, “I’m not human, and I can’t pretend to be.”
“You are a part of a human. Anyways, let’s go!”
Remus grabbed his arm, and the world shifted around them, the ground fell out from under his feet— for an instant, he felt like he was flying and falling all at the same time.
Then the ground appeared again. Logan stumbled. The sun was filtered through the branches of tall trees, taller than any apple tree he’d seen. The ground felt hard, and thorny bushes grew between each massive tree. Strangely enough, even though the air felt warm, the branches had no leaves, as if winter was coming. Logan looked down at his feet. The earth was covered in a layer of frost. He crouched down and touched it, and his fingers brushed coarse weeds and warm frost.
“This is fascinating,” Logan said. He scooped a little bit of frost into his hand. It didn’t melt. 
“How so?”
“Where do I start? The trees— they’re far too tall to be apple trees, yet they still bear fruit. And they have no leaves, which raises the question of how they perform photosynthesis. Not only that but the ground is covered in frost, and the frost is warm. The frost is warm, but it also doesn’t melt in my touch. Truly fascinating.”
Remus flicked his wrist, and a red apple the size of a fist fell into his palm.
“I like the way that frost looks, but I fucking hate the cold! So I made this place! And the branches are high so I can climb them and see out above the entirety of the land! But if you take issue with the height of the trees…”
Remus took a bite of the apple. He stomped his foot. Suddenly, one of the trees shrank, smaller and smaller, until it was the size of an actual apple tree. Ripe, beautiful apples hung off the branches.
“There,” Remus said, “that should be low enough for you to reach.”
“I’m not that much shorter than you,” Logan said, “do you have something to keep the apples in?”
Remus reached into the bag, and pulled out a wicker basket. Logan almost asked how he managed to do that, but realized it would be pointless. This was Remus’ land, it ran by his rules.
“I have a question!” Remus proclaimed.
“Go ahead,” Logan said, silently glad Remus had gone back to asking questions.
“Why are you so touchy about shapeshifting? Like. You never do it. I mean when the cameras aren’t rolling. You look exactly like Thomas and you never change it up!”
Logan froze. He pulled an apple from one of the branches and set it carefully in the basket.
“Patton is emotionally unstable. Virgil is a ticking time bomb. Roman tends to prioritize fantastical ideals over reality. Janus is level headed, but Thomas only just accepted him. And I’m unsure if he’ll ever accept you.”
Remus took another big bite of the apple.
“And what does this have to do with you not shapeshifting?”
Logan sighed.
“Thomas needs someone to be steady. Someone for him to rely on and trust no matter what the situation is. I don’t want to lose his trust.”
Remus giggled. Logan picked another apple.
“He trusts Patton even when he’s a fucking puppet. It’s not about trust, is it?”
Logan set the apple down in his basket.
“How many of these do we need?”
“Fuck if I know, fill the basket. But if it’s not about trust, then what is it about?”
Logan picked an apple, staring at the deep red color. He rubbed it against his polo, and he could see his reflection.
“Thomas hasn’t been listening to me as much as he should. I’m hoping that if I maintain the same appearance as him, he’ll be more inclined to listen to what I have to say.”
Logan stared at the apple. He shouldn’t be here. If the others found out he’d spent so much time with Remus, then what would they think of him? Would they consider him a friend anymore? That plus the fact he was picking apples, something they didn’t even need to do because they could be summoned with the snap of a finger. He didn’t need to eat. Logan set the apple in his basket.
Remus hummed. He flicked his wrist again, and apples began to rain from the sky. They struck the ground hard enough to bruise, and the noise they made was thunderous.
“Do you think the apple rain helps or diminishes the experience of apple picking?”
Logan stared up at the sky— cloudy, with a chance of apples.
“I don’t think catching apples in a basket counts as picking.”
“But it does count as fun!” Remus insisted.
“It’s not very effective.”
“Really now? Watch this!”
Remus pulled another wicker basket from the bag, and held it above his head. One, two, three apples hit the basket hard. The fourth made a sickening crunch as it hit the basket, and Logan flinched.
“What was that?”
“Some of the apples have bones!”
Logan furrowed his brows, looking at Remus. Another apple fell into his basket, thankfully lacking the crunching.
“An odd feature for an apple to have. What are the purpose of the bones? Structural stability? Do the bones assist in reproduction?”
“None of that!” Remus responded, “I just like the crunch! And Jannie likes the extra calcium!”
Logan nodded. Somehow, the fact that nothing made sense was logical. This was Remus’ land, it obeyed him. He plucked another apple from the tree.
“You know, Logan,” Remus said after a moment,  basket held over his head, “I think you’re Eve.”
Logan raised his eyebrow.
“And what do you mean by that?”
Remus shrugged. Another apple landed in the basket with a crunch.
“Well, you see, Eve ate the apple from the forbidden tree, because she wanted to know the difference between good and evil, she wanted to see like god. In all honesty, I don’t think she was tricked. She knew what she wanted. She knew what she was getting into. She was just scared to be held liable. She was scared of the judgement.”
Logan plucked another apple from the tree. He had to stand on his toes to reach it. What Remus was saying made no sense. If God had dropped him in the garden and told him to not eat the apple, he would’ve followed the rules. And he certainly feared no judgement. Certainly.
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t? So you would have rather stayed ignorant? Unharmed by what you don’t know?”
Logan froze. Remus continued talking.
“I remember Janus told me you really went off at him when he suggested that ignorance is bliss. So, I think you’re just like Eve. I mean, would you give up peace for knowledge?”
Logan plucked another apple. Of course he would. What he wanted more than anything was a life full of books and reading, knowing everything there was to know. Being an academic.
“That isn’t my choice to make. Thomas has chosen his path in life.”
“But what if it was your choice? Then what would you do?”
Logan picked another apple. The basket was close to full.
“I would choose knowledge. I have told you what I would do as a human, I would pursue knowledge above all. I wouldn’t be able to stop my pursuit. I would never be satisfied.”
Remus snapped his fingers, and the apple rain stopped as suddenly as it started.
“Wisdom cries out in the street; in the squares she raises her voice. Proverbs 1, verse 20.  You’d never be able to stop learning once you started. Which I think is pretty cool!” Remus looked him dead in the eye, lowering his basket from his head. “You’re a passionate guy, Lo. Show it. I liked hearing you talk about saffron. And if they won’t listen? Then—“
“Then make them listen. Yes. You said it before.” Logan sighed. “I must admit, I don’t think I would be able to. Once they see me as a joke, it’s over. I’m only listened to when I’m being used to counter something that inhibits Virgil and Patton. For example, when you and Janus first appeared. I… I think we have enough apples.”
Remus took his basket, full of apples, and shoved it into the bag. Logan gave him his basket, and watched Remus make it disappear.
“If they won’t listen to you just because they see you act improperly, because they see you smile and feel happy, then they’re a bunch of hypocrites that I want to punt into the fucking sun.”
Logan took a deep breath in. A tiny little voice inside of him screamed to lash out, punch a tree in anger and frustration and pain, but that would be illogical. The apples had been picked. That was all. Now saffron, or honey, or whatever Remus would drag him to next. Then he’d be back in his room, asleep in his chair, then in the morning—
“I honestly don’t know why you care so much,” Remus said.
Logan exhaled.
“They’re all I have.”
Remus set a hand on his shoulder.
“Well, you’re have me now, too. Let’s go get the saffron!”
The earth suddenly fell out from under his feet. Logan couldn’t help the surprised yelp that escaped his mouth, hand flying out to grab Remus’ arm. Then as quickly as it disappeared, the earth came back, and his feet hit the ground. He yanked his hand away from Remus, brushing invisible dust off of the front of his shirt. 
They had appeared in a desert. The sun beat down bright and strong, no clouds in the sky to inhibit it. His feet sank into the sand. A harsh wind kicked up the sand, and it flew around in a flurry like a blizzard. Logan gazed at the horizon. Nothing for miles and miles, just sand, low and level.
“Is this where you find saffron?” Logan asked. Remus crossed his arms.
“You should know better than anyone that flowers can’t grow in a desert! And besides, I just found out saffron came from flowers. So I have to grow them!”
Logan raised an eyebrow.
“Why bring us to a desert then?”
Remus smiled.
“Oh, you’ll see.”
Remus turned away from him. He raised his hands out, like he was conducting a band. He slowly breathed in. Logan felt the sand under his feet shift, pull together, and shake. Logan’s eyes went wide.
“What’re you—“
Remus turned back to Logan, eyes filled with fire.
“What is the best condition for crocuses, Logan?”
Logan swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.
“Saffron crocuses bloom in early to mid fall, and prefer sandy loam and lots of sunshine. They prefer soil with good drainage, as well as a pH range of 6.0 to 7.0. Crocus grow best in hardiness zones 5 through 8, not too hot, but not too cold either.”
A cool, fall breeze ruffled Remus’ hair and the fishnet shirt he wore. Logan raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t tell the temperature, but it certainly had gotten cooler.
“What is sandy loam?” Remus asked, knocking Logan’s train of thought off the tracks.
Logan paused for a moment. Remus really wanted to know. But why? The imagination didn’t follow the laws of physics or nature, why would he want to know? He said he liked hearing him talk. But did he?
“Sandy loam is soil that, while containing silt and clay, has primarily sand in it. It is a good soil for gardening because of its draining abilities… Does it matter?”
Remus tilted his head.
“Well, if you were to be making a big ol’ crocus field, you’d care about the soil! Everything about it! So since it matters to you…”
Remus smiled brightly, and grabbed Logan’s arm, tugging him. Logan let himself be pulled, finding himself right in front of Remus, stumbling as the ground shifted under his feet. Bright sand melded together and changed, turning into dark, rich earth. Logan knelt, scooping a little bit into his hand. Sandy loam. 
The soil in his hand moved, like a miniature earthquake. A small, green sprout rose from the dirt, reaching towards the sun. Delicate green leaves grew, and so did a small, purple bud. It opened. Vibrant amethyst petals showed themselves to him, but so did three red stigma. Saffron.
“My god,” Logan said, “that was amazing!”
Remus snorted out a laugh.
“What, you've never seen Roman do something like that?”
Logan shook his head. Roman preferred to run his side of the imagination like an actual human kingdom, planting saplings and waiting patiently for them to grow. Sometimes, he’d see Roman in the wheat fields, harvesting wheat with a large iron scythe, just how a human would do. He let everything take its time, and grow at its own pace. 
“Really?” Remus crowed. “Well then— watch this!”
Remus cackled, and snapped his fingers.
The ground shifted under Logan’s knees, and hundreds of little green sprouts poked out from the dark earth, basking in the gentle sunlight. Glorious purple buds opened to reveal perfect crocuses, each with three sprigs of saffron inside. Logan gazed out to the horizon. The desert had turned to a field of purple, as grand and never ending as a sunset.
Logan’s jaw dropped open in shock. For miles and miles, nothing but crocus…
“Amazing,” Logan whispered, “absolutely amazing.”
With a thud, Remus sat down next to him. He leaned forward, and tore one of the crocuses from the ground, holding it up to Logan. Then, the petals shuddered, as if blown by an invisible wind, merging and shifting until they had formed a purple frog.
“Look,” Remus exclaimed, “it’s a croak-us!”
Logan couldn’t help but snort with laughter, covering his mouth quickly. His eyes went wide. Remus didn’t seem to have any intention of poking fun at him for laughing, but it was better safe than sorry. Though he couldn’t help but think of Remus, sat at the kitchen table in nothing but an apron, saying that he’d beaten him fair and square, and could do so again. Logan lowered his hand from his mouth, chuckling quietly. It was a pretty funny pun.
"Yes," Logan opened his mouth, closed it, then exhaled. "'It's quite ribbit-ing." 
Logan looked up, meeting Remus’ eyes. There was no judgement, no smugness. Remus looked absolutely fucking delighted, a manic glint in his eyes.
"You've toad the line!” Remus cackled. Logan laughed quietly, staring right at the little frog in the flower, trying to think of another frog pun. His brows furrowed in thought. 
"Did you know that in South America, there's a species of big frog with enough poison to kill two thousand men?” Remus said, interrupting Logan’s train of a thought. 
"I don't believe that's true. The golden dart frog grows only up to five millimeters, as opposed to the goliath frog, which can grow up to three-hundred and twenty, and weigh just over four pounds."
“Damn, you know a lot about frogs,” Remus said, “it’s pretty cool!”
“I researched them extensively after Patton turned into one, just in case another problem arose.” 
They stared at each other, much too long to be considered normal. Remus's lips twitched. The silence grated on Logan’s nerves. Had he said something wrong? 
“Would you like to play a word association game?” Logan nervously asked.
"Part two: Electric Boogaloo!" Remus exclaimed, startling the croak-us enough to hop into the fields of its former kin.
He brought his hand down onto Logan's in a low five, purple petals smeared onto his palm. Remus was still grinning, parts of his moustache standing on end, like he'd been shocked. Electric Boogaloo. Remus sat, cross-legged in the new soil so they were face to face. Logan brushed against him, and felt the burn of a spark go out on his leg. Electric Boogaloo, again.
"Vampire,” Remus said.
Logan’s mind jumped to when Virgil had dressed as a vampire for halloween.
"Halloween."
“Black?”
"Orange."
"Bok choy!” Remus chirped.
Logan paused. What led to that connection? Remus shrugged.
"Plant,” Logan said, brushing off his previous confusion.
"Maple.”
"Canada.”
"Pancakes."
"Syrup."
"HONEY!"
Remus snapped, loud as a cracking whip. Logan watched him shake a freshly printed page he clutched in his hand, peering at it intensely. 
“It says on our list that we need honey!”
Logan looked back out at the field of crocuses. Every single one of them had three sprigs of saffron inside, red and beautiful. He could smell it, the aroma beautiful and heavy. 
“We have to harvest the saffron first, for the paella. How much will we need for the recipe, Remus?”
Remus sighed.
“Harvesting saffron ourselves sounds like a big waste of time. Don’t you think?”
Logan brushed his fingers on the warm, rich soil. He imagined Remus and him in the field of saffron, carefully plucking saffron from the flowers, putting the delicate threads in jars to be dried later. Then he could ask all the questions in the world about the soil, the saffron. He could spend hours talking to Remus about everything he wanted to. He wanted to say so much. And yet his mouth wouldn’t obey him. Remus wouldn’t tell him to shut up, so what was stopping him? Nothing was stopping him.
“Yes,” Logan said, “it would take up a good deal of time. But honey won’t take that long, will it?”
“I don’t even need honey,” Remus admitted, “I just wanted an excuse to spend time with you without any of the others popping in or having to wait until like five am. You’re the functional one, you gotta get some sleep.”
Logan’s eyebrows shot up. Oh. Remus’ words slowly went through his head. His heart did a backflip— even though that certainly was anatomically impossible— and his lungs stopped taking in air.
“Yeah,” Logan said, voice quiet, “I do. I mean— uh. Spending time with you is much better than laying unconscious for eight hours.”
“As if you get eight hours of sleep,” Remus said, a bright smile plastered on his face.
“So. We don’t need honey?”
“We still need mussels.”
“Mussels, yeah,” Logan said, breathless, standing up, “lead the way.”
“What about the saffron?” Remus said, raising an eyebrow. He stood.
“...Well. We can always come back for that some other time.”
Remus nodded, a bright smile plastered on his face.
“Yeah, some other time. Well then. Off we go!”
Remus grabbed Logan’s arm, and the world fell away from them. Logan closed his eyes. 
Waves crashed gently. He could hear them, and feel a cold sea breeze blow on his skin, ruffling his hair. He slowly opened his eyes. Apparently, night had fallen while his eyes were shut, and moonlight bathed everything in a pearly pale light. The air smelled like salt. Both of his feet were solidly on a wooden dock. Remus’ hand still felt warm on his arm.
“How long did that take?” Logan asked. The sun had still been up when they left.
“It’s always night here,” Remus explained, shifting his weight from foot to foot, “I like it better that way. Look at the beach and you’ll see why.”
Logan turned his head. The moon shone gently on the black sand beach, but more impressive were the waves— each foaming, rushing wave carried with it an ethereal teal glow, like all the stars in the sky were gently ebbing with every wave. Logan stared at the water, eyes wide. 
“The waves glow like that because of an algal bloom, right? And when the water moves it causes the algae to glow. It is absolutely wonderful, Remus.”
Remus smiled, running his hand through his hair, almost as if he was shy.
“Thanks, this place is one of the first places I’ve ever made, and the first one I felt satisfied with. The rest of this place I like to keep constantly changing, but not here.”
Remus walked to the end of the dock. He calmly set his bag down, then yanked off his fishnet top, holding it in his hand. Logan watched his hands undo the button of his shorts, then watched Remus toss his shorts onto the dock, revealing the bright green speedo he wore, leaving nothing up to the imagination. Remus raised his arms out like Christ on the cross, looking up at the full moon. Then he tilted backwards, gracefully falling off the dock, and landing in the water with a loud splash.
Logan slowly walked to the end of the dock. He knelt, knees pressed against wet wood. Even through the glowing waves and the dark water he could see Remus’ back, his legs, pale skin disappearing quickly underwater. 
Logan’s hands clasped the indigo fabric of his tie. Then they drifted down. He sat down, cross legged, staring down at the water. Slowly, he took one shoe off, setting it carefully behind him. Then the other. He pulled off his socks and placed them in his shoes. Then his pants, leaving him in boxers, his shirt, and his tie. He took off his glasses.
His hands clasped his tie again. He gazed at the water, dark as the night around him except for the beautiful waves and the occasional glimpse of Remus’ skin. Then he raised his head, staring out into the distance. He could see for miles. Empty, dark ocean, with no land in sight. Slowly, he loosened the knot. His hands shook. 
Remus wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t care if he took off his tie. He wouldn’t see him as less. He would see him as Logic, as Logan. Nothing less. 
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of cold, salty air. pulled off his tie, setting it with the rest of his clothing. Before he could lose his nerve he yanked his shirt off, threw it haphazardly in the pile of clothing, and ran to the end of the dock. He jumped. Time seemed to slow as he rushed through the air, flying to the water—
He landed with a loud, graceless splash. The water around him lit up like fireworks. Surprisingly, the water felt warm compared to the bite of the wind. Logan couldn’t tell where Remus was, he just knew he was underwater with him now. Logan kicked and paddled until he reached the surface, gasping for breath. A sharp laugh escaped him. His heart pounded in his chest— he could feel it beating, even though he knew he didn’t need one to function. The waves rushed over him, bright as all the stars. 
Logan treaded water in place, then let himself tilt back, until he floated on his back. Waves gently rocked him, and he let them. What had he been so scared of? He laughed again, much quieter, listening to the waves rush to shore. 
Next to him, he heard Remus surface, taking a deep breath.
“You good?” Remus asked. Logan turned his head a little, looking at Remus. His hair was soaked, plastered to his forehead.
“Perfectly fine,” Logan responded, “and you?”
Remus didn’t answer, just smiled and sunk into the water. The wind blew cold over his skin, sending a shudder up his spine. Remus had to be swimming under him, collecting the mussels he’d use for the paella. Logan couldn’t help but wait for the time they’d be able to spend in the kitchen, knees bumping, or the time they’d spend collecting saffron, the sun shining on violet flowers in a golden gleam. 
Logan breathed out slowly. There was something with Remus that made all his thoughts become portraits. Cohesive, yes, but coated in a loveliness that never used to be there. It might have to do with the imagination. It might not. 
The waves beneath him swelled, then gently ebbed out. Remus surfaced again, treading water as easily as breathing. He’d changed his fishnet top into a net, which was full of mussels and what looked like clams, maybe? Logan couldn’t tell. 
Remus gingerly grabbed Logan’s arm. The waves under them swelled. 
“Let’s go back up onto the dock,” Remus whispered.
Logan nodded. Within the blink of the eye, they both appeared on the dock, both of them soaking wet. Remus shook his head like a dog, water flying everywhere. Logan raised his hand to keep the water from hitting him, even though he was already absolutely soaked. Remus set the bag of shellfish on the dock with a clatter. 
He calmly took one out of the net, and Logan realized they were oysters, not clams. Remus grabbed his bag, unzipping one of the pockets and pulling out a knife. He held the oyster carefully, curved side flat against his palm, and wiggled his knife into the hinge between the shells. Remus’ hands were surprisingly steady, even as the knife slipped between the shells and the oyster popped open. He scraped the knife against the inside of the shell, freeing up the meat, then knocked the oyster back like a shot.
Silently, he offered Logan the knife. Their fingers brushed as Logan took the hilt of the knife, grabbing an oyster from the net. He mimicked Remus’ movements, trying to slip the knife between the two shells. Remus chuckled, and grabbed the hand that held the knife. 
“You have to press harder,” he said, “you can’t finesse your way into the shell, you have to put some oomf behind it. If you don’t, it’ll never ever open up.”
Logan swallowed. He felt oddly lightheaded as Remus guided the knife between the shells of the oyster, helping him push the knife into the space between the shell, easing the hinges apart with the flat of the blade. The shell slipped into the cup of his fingers, just so, supported by the weight of Remus's hands over his, thumb pushing against his, twisting the hinge open with a pop.
"See?" Remus was grinning, that ever-present expression of glee, and Logan tore his eyes from it to the movement of hands again, guiding the knife under the oyster to lift the flat shell off. 
"These would be good for the garden," Logan blurted out. Remus looked up, just as attentive as he'd always been, and the words caught in his throat for a second. "For- for the soil, oyster shells, when ground into powder, have been shown to improve soil pH and nutrient status, strengthening cell walls due to an increase in calcium, overall resulting in healthier produce.”
Remus tilted his head. Logan’s face flushed.
“...I know you employ an extraordinary method of growing and cultivating, and therefore have no need for this knowledge, but tossing them aside or simply letting them disappear seemed.. unnecessary."
"I think you need to stop worrying about what I need to know, and start asking what else I'd want to hear,” Remus said with a grin, “But it is flattering that you think it's extraordinary. Now why don’t you try the oyster?”
Logan stared at the meat of the oyster.
“I just… drink it?”
“Like a shot, yeah.”
Logan slowly brought the oyster to his mouth. Slowly, he tilted his head back, opening his mouth.
The taste made his eyes go wide. The meat of the oyster was plump against his tongue, but it tasted like coppery brine. He swallowed it without chewing, since he hadn’t noticed Remus’ jaw moving. The coppery taste lingered on his tongue. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of fresh, ocean air.
“Why don’t you stay here?” Remus suddenly asked. Logan’s eyes shot wide open. He had another oyster in his hands, wriggling his knife between the shells.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Remus looked down at the oyster, face surprisingly blank and unreadable.
“You spend all day in your room except for when you come out and cook with me. I have a feeling that I almost wasn’t able to get you out of your room today. So why don’t you just stay here? I can make you a castle or a cottage for you to study in, and you won’t have to worry about the others bothering you. And you’ll be able to come here whenever you want. So what do you say. Will you stay?”
Logan stared down at his hands. He could. He could say yes, and watch Remus make him a place to stay, a place that was truly his. No worries of anyone walking in and seeing him disheveled, just himself and Remus.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t say yes. I’m needed with the rest of the sides, and Virgil may see my leaving as betrayal, or a sign of untrustworthiness. I need to keep them on my side. I need them to trust me, to listen to me.”
Remus still was fixated on the oyster. The knife slipped between the two shells, and it popped open. Remus’ brows rose.
“I still think you’d enjoy it here more than you would crammed in your little room all the time. And I don’t know how to tell you in a way that’ll make you listen, but they need you more than you think they do. You are all of Thomas’ cleverness and wit. Where would he be without you? Creativity is nothing without knowledge— whether its working with or against knowledge.”
Logan shook his head. Remus slowly reached for Logan’s hand. Logan let him take it, pull his fingers open, and press something into his palm. It felt like a pebble. Logan felt his hands ball into fists.
“Roman seems to mostly work against me, but at least Thomas heeds his words. I really can’t stay here. I…. I should honestly go. It’s late.”
Logan awkwardly stood, fists still clenched. Remus looked up at him with wide eyes, brows furrowed.
“Are you sure?”
Logan opened his mouth, but no words came out. A part of him still wanted to stay, to sit with Remus at the dock and watch the glowing waves, to eat oysters with him. He closed his mouth and nodded. Remus sighed.
“Alright. I’ll teleport you and your clothes back to your room. Just… you’re welcome back whenever you want. Don’t be a stranger, Logan.”
Logan smiled. He wanted to say something, but the next thing he knew the world vanished around him. Then it reappeared, and he saw the door to his room. There was a bowl of spaghetti in front of it. It had long grown cold, but Logan picked it up anyways, and stepped into his room.
He set the bowl of spaghetti on his desk, and haphazardly tossed his clothes on the floor. He felt soaked to the bone, and started to shiver a little, even though he knew he couldn’t feel cold, couldn’t feel pain, couldn’t feel the cocktail of conflicting emotions inside of him. With a sigh, he sat in his office chair. His hands, still curled into fists, shook slightly. What had Remus given him? Slowly, he relaxed his fingers. 
Resting in his palm was a round, black pearl. 
Logan stared at the black pearl in his palm. A million different thoughts rushed through his head, most of them strange and illogical. He could go back to the pier and watch the luminescent waves, or help Remus grind the oyster shells down into fertilizer. And they would eat oysters together until they had enough pearls to make a necklace, a necklace he’d wear wherever he went.
Then what? 
Then Logan would wear the necklace, and someone would ask where he got it from.
This was for the best for Thomas’ stability. It had to be.
Logan let his head flop against the headrest of his office chair, and shut his eyes, hoping sleep would take him.
He never let go of the pearl.
724 notes · View notes
couchpotatoaniki · 3 years
Text
One Year ❣︎ One: Holidays Aren’t For Drama
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Chapter Summary: San has finally found you after five years of searching, and he wants you for himself--though not knowing how to do it just yet. In the meantime, you’re having fun hanging out with a friend on the plane to Jeju.
Pairing: Mafia!San x Fem!Reader Genre: Mafia AU, fluff, angst, eventual smut, lotta crack and stupid shit ngl Chapter warnings: swearing, stalking Word count: 1.2k+ A 365 Days parody
Previous: Prologue For the rest of the series, click here
Speech in bold means they’re talking in Korean
Speech in italics is whatever the reader wants their native langue to be that’s not Korean or English
Speech without either means they’re talking in English
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You were glad that you were sat next to Yunho on the plane since you needed good vibes that your boyfriend couldn’t really give you. Too sucked up in his own life, which make him the worst person to sit next to Yeosang.
Thankfully, Dominic was terrified of the boy so he was silently scrolling through his phone. That left Mingi to annoy poor Seonghwa the whole trip.
“Oh, you bitch,” Yunho mumbled, picking up four cards from the deck beside him. To pass the time, you and the tall boy decided to play a game of Uno. 
Chuckling, you threw down a yellow 2. effectively ending the round. “You know, for someone of your profession, you’re really shit at cards.”
“Maybe because I’m playing against your devious ass.”
“You love my devious ass, don’t lie.” Scoffing, he gathered the cards and began to shuffle them before you ripped them from his hands. “Oh hell no. I know for a fact you’re gonna rig it.”
“I tried last time, and you still won,” he huffed, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair before using the other to take the deck again.
Yunho wasn’t really your friend to begin with. More so Mingi’s, but that had not stopped the two of you becoming just as close. Seonghwa and Yeosang too; you had meet them through the sweet-hearted boy, and all three had quickly become an addition to your short list of loved ones.
In fact, out of the six of you, Dominic was the odd one out.
He didn’t know the secrets you shared, the things you did without his knowledge. Nothing that would directly harm your relationship, no.
To add to that, the five of you were like a family, looking out for each other, and the boys weren’t very font of the guy you had chosen to date.
Then again, compared to the last one, Dominic was much better.
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Every year, the boys and you had decided to treat this time as a holiday away  from the all the work you do, to treat yourselves for living another year. So you all splurged out and did something big.
How you chose the destination was fairly simple; one of you would throw a dart at a map of the world--blindfolded, obviously--and wherever it landed, you all went there.
It’s what led to the fun cruise in the Pacific the previous trip, and this part of Korea for this current one.
Though, Jeju was one of the places on your bucket list. You were more than excited to go and sight-see. Already, you do plenty of that for your job but never really get the chance to stop and pay attention.
To relax with friends and have fun.
You were going to Jeju for leisure purposes.
San was going to Jeju for you.
Yes, he was originally going there for work, to deal with a bit of business that had gone awry. But then he saw you, quickly crossing the road, from his vehicle.
Decided to follow you, see where you were going and with whom.
At first, he was a little pissed to know that you were travelling with five men, you being the only woman. Most likely scenario, one of them was your boyfriend.
But that information had no longer mattered, because you were going to Jeju. On the same flight as him.
San didn’t like to admit in believing in fate, but if that wasn’t it, he didn’t know what would be.
Hongjoong--who was stood beside him in the middle of the airport by now--was concerned over his strange behaviour. Even the slightest shift that seemed out of the ordinary, he immediately became suspicious.
That’s why San knew it was stupid to try and lie to him.
When he pointed out to you, telling him to look, it only took the older boy a few seconds for him clock on. “You’re shitting me...”
“I’m not, Joong. She’s here. She’s really here.”
“San,” the now-blue-haired boy began, trying not to draw any unnecessary attention, “look at me. You can’t. It was five years ago, and not to mention, you’re already with--”
Shoving his hands off his shoulders, the mafia boss glared at his second-in-command. “You don’t even like Dae anyway!”
No, Hongjoong hated that crazy woman to his very core. She was bad for his friend, but the boy was too caught up in filling the hole you somehow managed to carve to even care.
Had it been any other, the short man would have let San do his thing, but his current girlfriend was one of the heirs to a rather big mafia herself. Being with her involved politics, and being with her for nearly five years brought more trouble than you were worth.
But Hongjoong knew that San wouldn’t listen to him. Not when he’s like this.
The only thing he could do now was damage control.
The two males--San mainly--had stalked the six of you, deducing who meant what to you. Didn’t like how cosy you were with either of them, but specifically disliked the guy who had his hand wrapped around your waist.
Then there was the other guy, one of the really tall ones, with black hair--streaks of green and grey running through it--and a loud voice. Party animal, the two thought. He was particularly close to you too, sending playful hits that were definitely reciprocated. Hopefully, he was just a friend...
The other tall guy--the blonde one, with puppy-like eyes--seemed more reserved yet somehow still as energetic.
Next tallest was s black-haired fella. Clean and lean--smart-looking, with soft (but somehow sharp) eyes.
Finally, the last guy. The one who rarely spoke, with a silvery grey mullet that surprisingly complimented his pale skin. There was something about him that Hongjoong couldn’t pin down. Something familiar...
The most obvious odd thing was how you and your supposed ‘boyfriend’ were of a different ethnicity to the other four. Confirmed when the two men overheard you speaking in a completely different language neither of them were used to.
“Fuckin’ language barrier,” San grunted as he realised there was yet another obstacle in his way.
“Fuckin’ good-lookin’ people,” Hongjoong laughed, scanning the six of you.
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Being in business class was usually a comfortable experience, but right now was the most excruciating thing possible for both of them. San constantly bombarded the elder with questions and worries about you.
Couldn’t even send Hongjoong back there since his newly-dyed electric blue hair would have captured too much attention. “What’s the point of you if I can’t even get you to spy on people,” the younger huffed. “Dye your hair back to black when we get to the villa.”
“Oh, shut up,” Hongjoong spat with gritted teeth, already beyond annoyed with the man’s behaviour. “That’s not even my job. And you come at me with having unusual hair, but you look like Frankenstein’s Bride with that lock of white with the rest being black.”
Groaning, San looked at the entrance of the business area, hoping for some other miracle to occur and you would peer out. Desperation filled him, wanting to see you again. Etch your newer features into his mind once more.
“Who do you think those other guys were? Her boyfriend’s friends? Her friends? Colleagues?”
“Probably her friends, since they all seemed pretty close to her.”
“Ugh.” San buried his face in his hands, still not liking the sound of that.
“It’s the 21st century, dude. Girls can be friends with guys--and that girl is friends with those guys. Get used to it.”
“Don’t wanna,” San mumbled, puffing out his cheeks as Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at his tantrum.
“Listen, dude, you can’t confine and control her. Doing that’s only gonna push her away--if you’re actually serious in pursuing her.”
“Of course I’m serious!”
“Then you need to plan this out carefully. And you need to think of it fast, since I doubt they’ll be in Jeju for long."
The younger male scoffed, running his tongue against the inside of his cheek as his confidence grew and cogs in his brain began moving. “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely come up with something.”
Sighing, Hongjoong looked out of the window, into the peaceful, empty ocean they flew above. What exactly had he done?
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☕︎ Tag list: @little-precious-baby​ , @sparklychangbin​ ,
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hwrryscherry · 3 years
Text
The one with the accidental tiktok part.1 .
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characters: HARRYxMODELY/N
blurb: Harry and Model Y/N always record tons of tiktoks together but Y/N never post it. Then on a date night they record a funny tiktok and she accidentaly posts one.
word count: 1.989K
author's note: I received this request and I just wanna say how much I loved it. The concept it's everything so thank you to whoever sent me this and I hope you like it💗💗
here's how the tiktok was like: click here
    You and Harry have this tradition of cooking together every Friday night. It was a moment where it was just you and him and no one else doing something you love to do. It’s a time to connect and spend quality time together as a couple and actually, most of the time those cooking nights ends up on a very spicy night, if you know what I mean.
    This Friday, you both are currently in Palm Springs. You and Harry decided to rent a house in there, so he didn’t have to drive from LA every morning and this would make things easier. The house itself had a really calming Californian desert vibe, it was really colorful and had a yellow front door that you loved the most. It even made you tell Harry you wanted to dye your front door in LA yellow because it just made the whole place feels happier.
   It was already 7:30 pm now and you were sitting on the living room sofa in your gray sweatpants, turtleneck blouse and your damp hair being just showered. Your day was full, you took some photos for Cosmopolitan magazine so there were people putting a lot of makeup on you and touching your hair all day long and honestly, after all these quarantine months you weren’t pretty used to it. Messy hair, no makeup and sweatpants were your daily routine now. So at that moment, an eye mask, comfortable socks, sweatpants and spending time with your favorite man in the world were all you wanted. 
   You continue to go through the Instagram feed when you hear the sound of keys and then the front door opens. Your eyes met the apparently tired figure of Harry entering through it, you didn't judge him. This man was waking up every day at 5 in the morning and came home around this time, but you knew it was for something good and that he was actually having a great time on set. Your dog, Charlie immediately ran up to Harry, barking a little and basically jumping at the man's feet. Harry smiled tenderly and crouched down to pet the little dog, while you closed your laptop and stood up walking towards your tired boyfriend. He stood up when you approached him trying to smile at you, but you could see in his beautiful green eyes that he was really tired. You smiled at the boy, placing your left hand on his shoulder, approaching to give a peck on his lips and then you ran your hand through his hair, making him sigh with satisfaction at the feeling he loved.
— Hi! — You spoke in a cheerful tone but not so much, it was calm, but he could feel in your voice that you were trying to cheer him up — How was it today? You look tired, my darling. 
   He then sighed as he put his keys and cellphone on the small table by the door. 
— I am!  I had so many scenes today, and to make matters worse, I had to redo the same scene about four times! —  Harry said, sounding frustrated
— Oh, I'm sorry! — You said, propping up the on wall right behind you and crossing your arms trying to think of some way to make his day better. —
Why don't you take a shower, use the bath bubbles and relax? And I’ll order something for us to eat, anything you want. What do you think? Pizza, Chinese food? Anything you want. 
— But today is Friday, we always cook together on Fridays! —  Harry argued, frowning at your suggestion. And you actually did, it was probably one of the few things you both did by the beggining of your relationship that became a tradition to you.
— But you're tired, and it can be cool too either way! — You said, placing your hands on his shoulders starting to massage them calmly, then giving a small kiss on the back of Harry’s neck.
— No, no! It’s alright! — Harry said, shrugging you off and starting to walk straight to the bedroom while you followed him thinking what the hell did he wanted to say with that. It’s the confusion for me. He walked into the master suite bathroom starting to take off his shirt. You were surprised by the lack of tattoos, of course you knew they were covering it up for the film but it was really hard to get used to it, when you were so used to seeing his tattoos for almost three years now — I’ll take a relaxing bath and then I’ll be ready so we can cook together and bing watch a show or a movie, okay? — Harry said entering the shower. You really didn’t matter to skip one cooking night, but it was important to Harry, he loved those nights as much as you did and he didn’t want to make you lose a cooking date because of his tiredness. You just agreed with him even though you were not doing it.
   So, you just went back to the living room where you took your cell phone on the couch and ordered Chinese food, since you both loved it. It didn't take long for Harry to come out of the bathroom in his sweatpants and damp hair. You sure loved Harry anyway, but when he was like that, with the damp hair of someone who just got out of the bath he literally looked like a Greek god. He sat beside her on the couch, lifting his legs and placing them over his lap. Harry propped his head on the back of the couch watching you place your cell phone on the coffee table. 
— Have you decided on today's recipe? —  He asked, stroking his calf.
—  No, I ordered food! — You answered calmly watching the boy's facial expressions change.
— What? Because? I said we could cook! — Harry said settling himself on the sofa so he could face her better.
— You said, but we can't! — You replied approaching your face to him, putting your arms over your shoulders — But it will be cool too. We can eat, watch some movies, some tiktoks, I can even massage you since you have the worst back in the world! — Harry chuckled at hearing his words, not that you could say anything about bad backs, but he will just let it go for the moment.
   Harry leaned in kissing your lips as his right hand was now in your cheek. Deep down, he knew this was exactly the best thing for today. The kiss started to get steamy. It was slow but passionate, Harry slid his hand that was previously on your cheek down your body until it reached your waist where he lifted you and placed you on his clothed lap.
   You brought your right hand to the boy's neck and pulled his hair lightly causing Harry to groan as he squeezed your waist. He slid one of his hands down the sides of your body and brought it back to your cheek where he started to kiss your neck making you roll your eyes. It wasn’t anything higly sexual, it was more about the intimacy, the initmacy of being so closed to his lover.
   And then the doorbell rang alerting that his order had arrived causing you to llet out a frustrated sigh as you separated the kiss looking at the smirk on your boyfriend's lips.
— Chinese food... — You said withdrawing from his lap and getting up starting to walk to the door.
— I said it would be better to have cooked! — Harry said ironically running his hands over his thighs covered in sweatpants.
    You had already paid by credit card over the phone so thank god it was just getting the food. You returned to the living room in a few seconds, placing the packages on the coffee table and sitting on the carpet. Harry then slid from the couch to the carpet on the floor and sat beside you.
— Should we film a tik tok? — You said, opening the bags getting your orders out of it. You ordered Chicken Yakisoba for you and shrimp yakisoba to Harry as he’s a pescatarian — Like, while we eat! We’re never gonna post it, so whatever!
— Sure! — Harry said, handing you your phone and grabbing his order — Oh, which one should we do? Like, the couple challenge, or should we like lip sing to one? — Harry asked.
— Oh, OH! I saw a heard an audio today — You started laughing just about remembering it. Harry thought it was so adorable when you’d do it, so whenever you were trying to tell a story and started laughing because you remember it perfectly and it was so funny to you, he’d just stay there with a cheeky smile admiring your face and laugh — Alright, so it’s like a song and then the girl it’s singing like ‘’my man ain’t shit’’, ‘’my man ain’t shit’’.
— Excuse me?? Why would we do it? I’m like the coolest person! — Harry interrupted you making you look at him with a mocking look.
— ANYWAY, wait for it! — You put a few strands of your hair behind your ear while taking the spring roll with a napkin — Then the girl says like ‘’why you won’t leave him?’’ and she answers ‘’’cause bitch, dick too bomb’’. — You couldn’t help laughing at it, because it was just so funny to you. Harry laughed too, he loved that you could find the funny side in the silliest things, but could also be so mature when it was needed.
— Ok, I like how it turned out, let’s do it! — Harry said taking a bite of his food as making you chuckle. It was true though, this man’s dick? too bomb.
   You then entered the tik tok app and prepared everything and positioned the phone in front of you both.
— Wait, what should I do? — Harry asked as he stand up behind you.
— Nothing, just copy the obscene gesture that I’ll do in the end and you’ll be fine. — You said with a mocking smile at him.
— Why? I wanted to lip sing too! — Harry said, looking at the camera, pouting like a child.
— Because I don’t have a dick, so it would be weird if you sang! — You argued, turning your head to face him.
— Oh, is there any audios about boobs? Because love, yours are spectacular — He said widening his eyes, making you laugh and turn again to face the camera now.
— Ok, focus Harry, focus! — You said as you press the button to film and started lip singing. When the time ended, you both sat down to watch it and it actually turned out really funny, and Harry doing the gesture was totally the best part of it. 
    When you were about to save it privately on the app, Harry accidentally spilled the soy sauce on the carpet. Yes, the white carpet in your rented house. You clicked on any button to save the video and ran to get a floor cloth or anything that could remove that stain. In fact, you knew I wasn't going to leave, the act of trying to clean up was a spur of the moment. Well, you couldn’t clean it and a few minutes later your cell phones started to vibrate a lot due to notifications and when you clicked to see what it was they saw that in the moment of despair, you didn’t press the button that would save the video privately, but yes to post publicly. The video was basically all over the social network and even if you delete it now, you very much doubt that the whole world hasn't seen it yet.
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