#every guy who was on stage i was like ah. yeah. okay

[fangedtracks]

went to an indie rock concert tonight and was brutally reminded what my type is

#i don't know how to explain it beyond ... secret dirtbag with granola vibes #every guy who was on stage i was like ah. yeah. okay

[toomuchracket]

lovers' quarrel (ross x girlband gf!reader angst)

day 5 of valentine's week. schedule clashes are getting to you. enjoy <3

you haven't spoken to your boyfriend in a week.

you're sleeping in the same bed as him, yeah, but ross is always asleep when you let yourself into his house at 11pm, body aching after a 12-hour day of dance rehearsals and video shoots and last-minute touch-ups to the instrumentals and harmonies and mixing on your band's new album. and you're always asleep when he leaves at 8am to drive to the studio to finish recording the new 75 LP (scheduled for release a month after yours), a kiss to your sleep-messy hair the only real bit of physical contact he gets to give you.

even your phone calls during studio breaks keep missing each other; you only hear your boyfriend's voice filtered through crackly phone lines, an obvious reminder that you're apart. in fact, the closest you've felt to ross in about eight days is when you use his body wash, in the freezing shower you take to soothe your screaming leg muscles before you get into bed with him.

you hate this. you miss him, so much.

ross misses you, too - he tells you at the end of every voicemail he leaves, paired with a “love you”, in such a defeated tone it brings tears to your eyes. you call him back, leave a similar message of your own, and go back into the rehearsal room and dance your heart out, as if it isn't breaking more with every passing second. 

is this what life is always going to be like for the two of you, a loving relationship reduced to fleeting moments of getting to spend time with each other in between tours and shows and recording sessions and writing and promo? you're not sure how long you could take it, if it is.

but you love ross. so fucking much. surely you can do something to make it better for both of you.

the question is… what?

you're mulling over that on your lunch break, sat alone outside the studio complex with your tofu bowl and lucozade, thinking about how thursdays have always been the worst day of the week (double maths back in the day, and now the final full day of work left before you can actually maybe talk to your man for once), when the answer appears through the summer drizzle. well, actually, it's gabbriette who appears, dashing over to you from her (matty's) car and screeching as the rain hits her hair.

you laugh, standing and letting her barrel into your arms. “hi, wifey.”

“baby girl!” she kisses your nose. “you look gorgeous.”

“gabs, i've been dancing for three hours straight. i look like shit.”

“but hot shit. like, super sexy shit,” she grins. “how's everything going? do i get a sneak peek of the new video?”

you smirk. “depends. did matty send you down here to spy on us?”

gabbriette laughs. “he's too stressed to even think of suggesting anything that smart. no, actually, i'm just here to see how you're doing,” her beautiful face shifts into a more serious expression. “because when i asked your boyfriend how you were, literally thirty minutes ago, he very cryptically said he didn't know.”

“ah.”

“he did then explain that you guys hadn't broken up, but it scared me,” she squeezes your hand. “you okay? like, i know you're both so busy - george is literally pushing the guys to the limit in the studio right now - but…”

you sigh. “yeah, we’re just so busy that we keep missing each other, that's all - i get home when he's sleeping, he leaves before i wake up, and we're never free to call at the same time. like, i didn't even know that thing you just said about george, because we haven't talked for days,” you slide down the wall to sit, and gabbriette follows. you sniffle. “he sleeps right beside me, but i miss him like he's continents away. and i hate it, gabs, i really hate it.”

“oh, baby,” she puts her arm around you and kisses your head. “it'll get better soon, though, won't it? you finish here tomorrow afternoon, right?”

“yeah, but,” you wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. “then the boys get to this manic stage i'm in now, then i have to do promo, and they have to do promo, and i just don't know when it'll end.”

“i know the feeling,” gabbriette sighs. “it's not easy, us being us, loving the people we do. but that's the way it is, i guess. we just gotta,” she half-heartedly punches the air. “push through it.”

“mmm,” you take a drink of your juice. “what i wouldn't give to just have dinner with him, you know? go somewhere nice for a night, and think about nothing but the two of us.”

your friend turns to face you. “so, why don't you? make a reservation for tomorrow night. surprise him when he gets home. clichè, but,” she winks. “i'm sure ross won't complain about coming home to you all dressed up and gorgeous. i know i wouldn't.”

you burst out laughing. “you're gonna lose your shit when we go inside and you get to see my album cover outfit, babe.”

“oh my god,” she presses her face into your shoulder, then sits up with a smile. “but seriously. i know you're exhausted, and so is he, but plan a date, have fun, make it a regular thing. you guys are perfect together; don’t let that slip away.”

“alright. thank you for the support,” you hug her. “i love you.”

“i love you, angel girl,” gabbriette pulls back and kisses your nose again, before standing and helping you up. “now, i am dying to see what you and the girls have been cooking up. shall we?”

you link your arm through hers. “let's go.”

***

when you hear the key in the lock, you brush down your dress a final time and hurry into the hallway. your heart skips at the sight of ross - clearly exhausted - stepping through the door; you can't keep the smile from your face, and one appears on his after he kicks his shoes off and turns towards you.

he exhales. “god, you're a sight for sore eyes. hi, love,” his arms open, and you run into them and allow yourself to be wrapped up in your boyfriend. “missed you this week.”

“missed you, too,” you nuzzle into his neck. “how are you, darling?”

“perfect, now that i've got you in my arms,” his smile is audible. “not letting you out of them for a second, by the way. need to catch up on holding my girl.”

you giggle. “what about dinner?”

“i can eat pizza with you on my lap on the sofa, can't i?”

oh. your heart feels slightly heavier than it did a second ago. “that's… what you want to do for dinner?”

you do your best to keep your voice light, but ross doesn't miss a trick. he pulls back, frowning slightly. “yeah. something calm, after us both being so busy this week,” he seems to notice your dress for the first time, brow furrowing even further when he takes in your polished appearance. “but that's not what you want, is it?”

“well, baby,” you let go of him, wringing your hands nervously. “i’ve, um, made a reservation at that place you like down the street. for tonight.”

ross pinches the bridge of his nose. “why would you do that, sweetheart?”

your jaw falls open. what? “oh, i just thought it might be nice to go out. save us doing the washing up,” the joke falls flat, but you clear your throat and continue. “and, you know, i’m home now, not coming in exhausted at midnight or whatever, for once, and i-”

“oh, okay,” ross laughs mirthlessly, and your blood runs cold. “just because you're not tired, i should forget my own tiredness and force myself to go out for an overpriced meal i don't even want to eat right now? just because?”

you don't think you've ever felt smaller in your life, and your voice shows it. “no, i just thought-”

“exactly. you just thought, about yourself, not me,” ross hangs up his jacket, shaking his head. “i mean, really, love? you of all people know what it's like, burning yourself out in the studio every day. is it really so surprising that i wanted to come home, to my own house, and just spend the night there?”

something inside you just snaps, and your next words shoot from your lips like bullets. “no, i fucking know the feeling, ross,” you glare at him when he turns to look at you, slight shock on his face at your sudden aggression. “66 hours i've worked, this week, across five days, and at the end of every single one of them i've wanted nothing more than to go straight home to my flat and collapse onto my bed. but d'you know what i've done instead?” you laugh, manic. “i've driven here and stayed with you, because i thought that even if we couldn't spend time together properly, at least we were with each other in some way. and you can't even be nice about the fact i wanted to do something special for us tonight. because, yeah, i was thinking about us when i did it.”

ross looks at you for a second, then shrugs. “well, i didn't ask you to do any of it.”

you nod, biting your trembling lip. “right,” you squeeze past him, picking up your handbag from the console table. tears prick at your eyes as you open the front door. “enjoy your fucking pizza, then.”

a sob escapes your lips as the door slams behind you, tears hitting off the steps as you hurry down them towards your car. with shaking hands, you rifle through your bag to find your keys, unlocking the door and climbing inside so you can cry in peace and figure out where to go. you half-expect ross to follow you, knock on the window, apologise… but nothing. the front door stays closed. even the blinds in the front room don’t move.

you're tempted to wait to see how long it would take him to come after you. but it's not a great look for you to be sitting outside his house in tears, and - to be honest - you don't really want to see him right now, anyway. you need to go somewhere. not your flat, because that's the first place he'd look for you - if he even decides to bother, that is. no. you need to go somewhere else, be with other people, people who love you. but not your bandmates, because that would be ross's next point of call.

and then, it hits you - gabbriette. you scroll through your contacts until you find her number, and hit call; what you don't expect, however, is for her boyfriend to answer. “hi, darling!”

“oh, hi, matty,” you sniffle. “did i dial you? i thought i'd called gabs.”

“no, you did, she just got me to answer because she’s making dinner,” he replies, his girlfriend audibly yelling in greeting in the background. “speaking of dinner… i thought you and ross were meant to be out right now? everything alright?”

you don't say anything in response, just burst into tears down the phone. matty sighs. “oh, fuck. come over, darling. i'll open the wine now.”

“thank you,” you say between sobs. “i'll see you in a bit.”

when you get to his house twenty minutes later, you reckon the two of them must have been standing at the door waiting for you; as soon as you ring the bell, it opens, and you're enveloped into a group hug so tight you can't tell who's who.

matty kisses your head when the hug ends. “just wanna say,” he begins, passing you a ridiculously large glass of red wine. “that while ross is my best friend, he will hear nothing of what's about to be said tonight. so… yeah. rip him to shreds.”

“oh, i intend to,” gabbriette squeezes your hand. “he came home to you looking like that and he didn't wanna go out with you? stupid boy.”

you wince. “gabs…”

“sorry, sorry. but i'm right,” she turns to matty. “don’t you think, baby?”

he nods. “he's an idiot,” something beeps in the kitchen, and gabbriette squeaks and runs towards it. matty puts an arm around you. “come on. we'll have a seat, and you can tell us everything.”

“okay.”

and you do just that, settled next to matty on the kitchen counter so gabs can hear and react while she cooks; you aren't quite sure you'd be able to make it through reliving the argument without the plates of focaccia she keeps laying on your lap, to be honest. anyway - both of them react quite accordingly to your story, dropped jaws and wide eyes and utterances of “he said that?” punctuating your words.

matty shakes his head when you finish talking, putting a hand on top of yours in a brotherly way. “i'm sorry, darling. he can be a moody bastard at times, i know, but that's… that's awful.”

“i get that he's tired and he didn't want to go out,” you sigh, taking a drink of your wine. “but he didn't need to make me feel like a stupid bitch for suggesting it,” you well up again. “and now i don't know where i am with him.”

“oh, baby,” gabbriette runs over to kiss your hair and hug you. “listen, you'll stay here tonight - we'll have a good time, talk shit, have some wine, and then we can figure your love life out tomorrow. cool?”

you look between the two of them, nervous. “i don't want to intrude…”

“oi, none of that,” matty squeezes your hand. “what kind of brother would i be if i didn't take of my little sister?”

“love you, mate,” you hug him, then turn to gabs. “both of you.”

“and we love you,” she kisses your cheek. “me more than him. seriously, i love you so much.”

matty laughs. “she’s right, actually,” he says to you. “came home raving about the sneak peek of the album she got yesterday,” he looks at you pointedly.

you roll your eyes. “fine, i'll tell you about it.”

“fuck yeah!”

you're still telling them all about the album and its processes when ross makes contact, almost two hours after you left his house. matty's phone rings, the contact photo (an old selfie of the two boys) visible to all three of you; the atmosphere changes from buzzy to sombre when you see it.

matty looks at you. “i don't have to answer it if you don't want me to.”

you look at the buzzing phone, the picture of your boyfriend on the screen filling you with a weird mix of emotion. “no, it's ok.”

“you sure?”

you nod. “if he asks where i am, you can tell him,” you murmur, looking at the floor. “i don't want him to worry.”

“right, darling,” matty takes your hand, and picks up his phone with the other. “alright, mate?”

gabbriette hugs you as ross speaks, inaudible to you; you're thankful for her support, because your stomach's in knots waiting for matty to reply. his eyes flick to yours, nervous. “yeah, she’s here,” he says, squeezing your hand. “she’s alright now, but… she really wasn't when she first arrived. surprised she managed to drive here, to be honest - that's how upset she was.”

you chew your bottom lip as ross says something else. matty quirks his eyebrows. “depends if your girlfriend wants to see you or not, mate.”

gabbriette squeezes you tighter. you shrug, and mouth “need to get it over with anyway”; matty grimaces, and relays the message to your boyfriend. “she's not opposed. but,” he shifts in his seat. “don't expect a warm welcome. that includes from me, too - it's none of my business, and i love you, but seeing my friend cry like that was fucking heartbreaking. i can't believe you could be so cruel.”

god, you love your friends.

you smile as matty wraps up the call. “yeah, i can imagine you feel awful about it; i'd be worried if you weren't. and yeah, i'll tell her, alright?” he gives you a thumbs up. “see you soon.”

“he's on his way?” you ask once the call ends.

“he went to yours. freaked out when you weren't there. so, he'll be here in five,” matty looks at you tentatively. “and i've to tell you he's extremely sorry and also that he loves you more than anything and finally that he’s a cunt for what he said.”

“i coulda fuckin told you that last bit,” gabbriette mutters. she smiles at you, though. “but the other bits are, you know, promising.”

“yeah,” you murmur. “shall we go and wait for him, then?”

she kisses your cheek. “if that's what you want, sure.”

true to his word, ross knocks the door five minutes later; you sit on the stairs in the hallway, gabs in front of you protectively (at her insistence), while matty answers. “hi.”

“alright?” ross's face isn’t properly visible from the angle you're at, but you can hear from the scratchiness of his voice that he's been crying. it hurts you to think about that. “can i come in?”

matty nods, stepping back to let him in. ross follows, an awkward dance, and immediately sees you. his face crumples. “hi, love.”

you wave. you're not sure if you can speak.

ross looks at gabs. “can i, um, talk to my girlfriend alone for a second?”

she turns to you. “you cool with that?”

you nod. she kisses your cheek and stands, staring ross down as she walks over to matty and they leave the room. once they've gone, ross flinches. “has she always been so scary?”

“you would be exactly the same way if she hurt matty,” your voice is hoarse, your crying just as obvious as your boyfriend's.

“yeah, s'pose,” ross takes a tentative few steps towards you, gesturing towards the stairs. “can i sit?”

“mhmm.”

“thanks,” he takes a seat on a step a few down from you, turning so he can talk to you properly. “i'm sorry, love, i really am. and i don't really have an excuse for being such a dickhead, other than tiredness, which isn't even an excuse because you've been more exhausted than i am and you still made the effort to do something nice for both of us,” he takes a shaky breath. “you look beautiful, by the way, even now; slightly off-topic, i know, but i just had to say it.”

“thanks,” you say quietly, picking at your cuticles. “thought you'd like this dress.”

“i love it,” ross smiles sadly. “i love you. and the fact that i hurt you… i feel fucking terrible about it,” his lip trembles. “i love you more than anything, or anyone, and i don't want to lose you. the thought of it fucking terrifies me, and,” he begins to cry, and your heart aches. “i worry that i'm not enough for you. i worry that i don't do enough for you, take you out enough. i worry that you'll get bored of me, bored of making all the effort, bored of sitting at home watching football or films, and one day you'll just leave me.”

what?

“oh, ross,” your heart shatters, and you scooch down to sit next to him and hug him.

“m'sorry, i know i'm the one in the wrong, but i have to be honest,” he cries into you. “when you said you wanted to go out instead of stay in, i freaked that i was boring you. and then when you brought up staying at mine instead of yours…”

“you thought it was me saying i was fed up.”

“yeah.”

“oh, baby,” you start to cry, too. “no. it was me just being pissed about you trying to say i didn't know the feeling of wanting to go home when you're tired. i didn't mean it in any other way, honest.”

“no, i know, my love. i was just scared.”

“why, though?” you look him in the eye. “you're the love of my life, ross. you're more than enough for me - everything i need, and more.”

he sniffles. “did you mean to quote beyoncé there, or…?”

“well, no, but it was apt,” you giggle, stroking his dimples when he smiles. “look, i was hurt by the way you reacted to me - an ‘oh, that's nice, love, but could we go out tomorrow night instead?’ wouldn't have gone amiss. but,” you kiss his nose. “i accept your apology, and i love you and our relationship very much, just as they are. just don't ever fucking treat me like that again, alright?”

“i promise you i won't, love,” ross kisses your nose in return. “i love you. and i'm sorry i was a grumpy shit about dinner, because i'm fucking starving now.”

you laugh, kissing his neck. “i reckon gabs has got us covered there. but if not,” you grin. “we can always get a pizza.”

“you're never letting me live that one down, are you?”

“not a fucking chance.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #valentine75 #girlband gf #ross macdonald fanfic #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald angst #ross macdonald x reader #ross x reader

[harrywavycurly]

You’ve always been one of my fave writers, and I just have to know—in the “It was just one night” series we know Eddie keeps getting jealous of Steve—is that because it’s Steve? Or would he feel that way with anyone flirting with us?Especially in the early stages of pregnancy when it’s not too noticeable yet.

Hiiii babes!! Awe you’re so sweet😭 so in this series it doesn’t matter who it is flirting with you especially in the early stages, Eddie doesn’t like it😂 in his mind it’s because he doesn’t want random people around his baby even though it’s not born yet🙈 but I’ll happily give you some examples of how he handles other dudes flirting with you!💖

-find all things One Night Stand Eddie here✨

*Eddie is over seeing guys flirt with you while you’re about ten seconds away from punching him in the face*

“You have really pretty eyes.” “Thank you…so what movie did you need tickets for?” “Whatever movie you want to watch with me sweetheart.” “Dude..word of advice…she snores and chews with her mouth open…she’s like a damn pig at the water trough.” “Uh…you know what? I think I’m good on a movie right uhm…now.” “Eddie what the actual fuck?” “What? I just did you both a favor.” “How the hell was telling him I snore and eat like a pig at a trough doing me a favor?” “Because you’re pregnant and he never stood a chance.” “He stood a chance…he was cute.” “Okay but you’re still pregnant with my child and I don’t want my baby around that douche.” “You’re so annoying…what are you even doing here?” “It’s your lunch break…so I brought you some food.” “Oh…thanks.”

“Hey you know her?” “Huh? Who?” “That girl that’s with that kid at the pac man machine.” “Oh yeah I know her…I heard she just got out of prison.” “Prison? What…for? She looks so….” “Normal? Yeah that’s how she gets you…she lures you in with her looks and normalcy and then next thing you know you’re talking the last nap of your life and all your money is gone.” “Holy shit…” “yeah…wanna meet her? I’ll call her over here if you want?” “No no I’m uhm…I’m good.” “Whatever you say man…have a good night.” “Who was that you were talking to? He was looking at me like I was…crazy.” “Oh him? No clue don’t know him….here’s your water and Dustin you get three more quarters then we are out of here.” “I don’t like water…” “and I don’t care…now drink it.”

“Edward Munson I’m about to kick your fucking ass.” “Uh…why?” “You told Rick I was a high profile escort?” “Did I?…hmm don’t remember telling him that…I thought I told him you were a recovering kleptomaniac.” “What is wrong with you? Why are you running around Hawkins telling every dude in the city limits horrible lies about me?” “Uhm let’s be so fucking real with ourselves sweetheart you have a stealing problem so…that’s not a lie.” “I stole a shot glass from the hideout because I didn’t realize I still had it in my hand when you walked me out to your van…” “ah so you also have a drinking problem?” “I’m going to kill you one day…I just know it.” “Besides you don’t need all these gross dudes hitting on you…while you’re in this..condition.” “This condition? You mean knocked up with your baby?” “Yes…that’s exactly what I mean.” “News flash Edward I am just carrying your baby…we aren’t together so I can flirt and be flirted with by anyone I want okay?” “No…not okay…i don’t want my baby to listen to you flirt or be flirted with by a bunch of assholes.” “Why? It already listens to you talk…might as well add some variety in the voices of assholes it has to listen to.” “You wound me…now go drink some water and have a snack.” “Don’t tell me what to do jackass…” “yup that’s the mother of my child right there…the picture of niceness.”

#one night stand convos #eddie munson series #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson enemies to lovers #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson social media au #eddie munson au #eddie munson x you fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #Eddie Munson #dad to be eddie munson #my little dungeon master baby

[jebewonmorelike]

Don’t Take Him For Granted

wc: 1.3k pronouns: none used; n/a-- reader is a boys planet trainee, but like... it's just pretend, ya know? you can pretend there aren't just boys there or whatever you like! warnings: maybe some swears; fluffy; ft. comedic stylings of kam, yedam, zihao and yujin summary: park hanbin's favorite trainee distracts him from overworking a very grateful LAW team ~bp masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ this was a request and i was so happy to make it! park hanbin was one of my top picks from the very beginning! what a talent. so much willpower in one boy-- it was amazing to watch. he will do incredible things; i have no doubt the star masters offered to take very good care of him!

"Ah-ah-ah-ah, 고개를 들어라," you hear as you crack the door open slightly to the LAW team's practice room. You watch as Yedam makes his way to the front of the formation, fumbling the choreography slightly as a nervous grin spreads across his face.

As the song finishes, you creak the door open a bit more-- Hanbin starting to address Yedam and the rest of his team sternly.

"Yedam, we've practiced this twenty-seven and a half times," the notorious perfectionist scolds. "So we'll practice it twenty-eight more until you get it right."

As the rest of the LAW team groans, you suddenly lose your grip on the door handle and watch in horror as it flies open unceremoniously to reveal you eavesdropping.

The whole team's eyes are on you immediately, including Park Hanbin's. The leader's demeanor completely shifts when he sees you, his lips pressing together in a sheepish smile at your presence.

"Hi, (Y/N)!" Hanbin greets, waving at you cutely. "Everybody take a nice break. You've all earned it!"

"Oh, thank god," Kamden mutters, collapsing to the ground as he attempts to catch his breath. "I love visits from (Y/N)."

"He's gonna kill us," Zihao whines, joining Kamden on the floor as he lays down like a starfish on his back. "I wish I hadn't knocked (Y/N) off our team. Worst mistake of my life."

You laugh awkwardly, stepping into the practice room fully and shutting the door behind you. “Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Yedam picks up his water bottle. “Please interrupt us at literally every hour of the day.”

Hanbin clasps his hands in front of his chin and bouncing up and down happily. “You weren’t interrupting! What’s up? What do you need?”

You walk towards him, his arm wrapping around you affectionately as you hand him the diagrams you’ve made of the formations of your mission song this week. “Can you tell me what you think of these transitions?”

“You want my opinion?” Hanbin asks, eyes wide with pleasant surprise. “Really?”

You laugh, nodding quickly. "Of course! Who else is more qualified than Park Hanbin?"

A grin spreads across his face slowly as he reluctantly turns his attention from your face to your formation papers. He sits down on the floor, tracing your directional arrows carefully with his fingers.

"How does Woongki get from this spot to this one?" He asks suddenly, pointing out the two very different positions on the stage.

"Okay, yeah, this one was one of the ones I was worried about. We had a pretty interesting transition, but it might still be too convoluted," you explain, standing up from where you've crouched beside him and demonstrating the move you'd choreographed.

Hanbin nods, brows furrowed in thought as you finish. "I like it, but I think it's just too far for him to travel-- especially on a bigger stage, you'll naturally be more spread out than you practiced."

You look over at the other members of the team, who are all sprawled out on the floor. You're pretty sure Yujin has fallen asleep. "I'm sorry for taking away from your practice time, guys."

Zihao sits up suddenly, waving his arms back and forth wildly. "PLEASE, KEEP TAKING AWAY FROM OUR PRACTICE TIME!"

"Seriously," Kamden agrees. "I can't feel my right leg."

Hanbin glares at the other boys before waving you back over and patting the floor beside him so you'll sit back down. He untucks the pencil from behind his ear and draws a new diagram underneath yours. Marking a couple directional arrows on the new formations, he taps the pencil lightly on the Woongki placemarker.

"If you have Woongki move up one more place in the previous formation, he'll be able to make his way up in a more stepladder-like fashion," Hanbin explains. "And it'll also look more pleasing to the audience's eye for it to fold out like this."

You nod thoughtfully, playing out the motions in your head before smiling up at him. "I get why people keep calling you a genius now."

Hanbin giggles, hands flying to cover his face in embarrassment.

"Ew," Yujin mutters with disgust, causing the other boys to glare at him in a warning.

"Do you want him to make us keep practicing!?" Yedam exclaims, before lowing his voice slightly. "He only ever lets us lie down like this when his favorite trainee is here. We need to keep (Y/N) in this room for as long as possible."

"We can hear everything you're saying, Yedam," Hanbin hisses before smiling at you, cheeks tinted crimson. "Everything else looks great to me! Thanks for trusting me to help you... Please come ask me for help any time you want."

You smile back shyly. "I will."

"WAIT!" Kamden exclaims desperately. "You're already here, I mean, don't you... don't you want to see what we've got so far?"

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. "Oh, uh--."

"Guys, don't be greedy. (Y/N) probably needs to get back to the Feel Special practice room," Hanbin answers, attempting to give you an out if you need one.

But the thought of returning to the Feel Special practice room makes you a bit sick to your stomach. You'd already told Woongki to go get lunch by himself for an hour so he didn't have a literal conniption.

"Um," you respond, "I can spare a few more minutes."

Hanbin's head tilts to the side, as he raises an eyebrow curiously. You had bonded with him over being very dedicated team leaders, so his concern is not misplaced. "How's it going in there?"

You sigh in defeat. "Don't ask."

He grimaces, reaching his hand out and hesitating momentarily before placing it comfortingly on your knee. "I believe in you."

"You guys are so cute," Zihao coos, nodding encouragingly at the other boys until they also join in the approving murmurings. "Really, just adorable."

"I think, and just hear me out here for a second," Yedam says, hands rubbing together like a cartoon villain, "(Y/N) should just switch to our team!"

"You're right, Yedam!" Hanbin agrees suddenly, grinning at him much too enthusiastically. "I assume you're willing to give up your spot then? Go on. Get your ass over to Feel Special!"

Yedam sighs sadly. "Why do you have to be like that?"

You can't help but laugh as you take note of the absolute exhaustion all over the boys' faces. You're well aware that Hanbin's been working them into their early graves, but they'll be glad he did when they make it to MCountdown. Not to mention, they get to look at Hanbin all day. Maybe you should take Yedam's spot...

You stand up now, dusting yourself off. "I guess I should probably stop running from my problems. If Woongki and I can't fix this as quickly as possible, I don't know what's gonna happen."

Hanbin stands up, too, pulling you into a hug and cradling the back of your head. "It's gonna be okay. If anyone can pull it off, it's you," he reassures. "And Woongki's okay sometimes, too."

You snort at his joke, pulling back and looking at the other boys. "You'll be grateful Hanbin worked you liked dogs at the end of the week. Don't take him for granted."

"Of course the one that's in love with him would say that," Kamden mumbles, rolling his eyes.

Hanbin clears his throat very loudly. "Okay, thanks for visiting!"

You laugh awkwardly, walking towards the door and pulling it open. "You should visit me next time!"

"He would love to!" Yujin calls as you shut the door behind you.

Pressing your ear to the door, you strain to hear the aftermath of your visit to the LAW practice room:

"So..." Kamden starts. "We're in trouble, aren't we?"

"Chorus. Fifty times," you can hear Hanbin order, hitting play on the music as the room is filled with groans of exasperation and exhaustion. "Go."

"He's sooo cool," you gush as you walk back to your practice room, daydreaming about the next time you might see your favorite dance tyrant, Park Hanbin.

#boys planet #boys planet imagines #boys planet drabbles #bp999 #park hanbin #hanbin #park han bin #phanbin #park hanbin imagines #park hanbin fics #park hanbin x reader #park hanbin drabbles #phanbin x reader #phanbin imagines #phanbin drabbles #phanbin fics #boys planet fics #boys planet x reader #mnet boys planet #zb1 #wang zihao #lee yedam #na kamden #evnne #evnne x reader #evnne imagines #evnne hanbin #evnne fics

[anxiefics]

special guest.

: ̗̀➛ ft. scaramouche x reader

: ̗̀➛ cw: none i think

: ̗̀➛ a/n: IDOL SCARAMOUCHE'S BEEN STUCK IN MY HEAD I NEED MOREE

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

kunikuzushi. better known as his stage name, scaramouche. a new solo artist with a rapidly increasing amount of fans.

being the ultimate pretty boy he is, you couldn't help your little celebrity crush on him. those amethyst eyes, and those outfits that showed off his lean muscle, and his indigo hair always tousled to perfection, and—

"y/n! snap out of it!"

you blinked back to reality, a concerned-looking amber greeting you. "you alright there? i called your name three times!"

"yeah, i'm fine. what were you saying?" you smiled sheepishly.

"i said that i got us tickets to 5wirl's concert! gotta support venti and the guys, you know? and apparently, they're having a special guest tomorrow!" amber babbled excitedly.

a special guest? who could it be? you thought. surely not...

"anyways, hu tao and i are going shopping for outfits to the event, wanna come?"

thinking back to your rather bleak wardrobe, you decided on, "sure!"

⋆ ★

"y/n, y/n! try this on!" hu tao giggled, holding up a stylish black and red shirt.

you sighed. "my feet hurt. this better be the last one, okay?" you hadn't realized that they would be dragging you around the entire mall, stopping at every store.

"hm, one more 'fit after this and then we can head out!" amber bargained, eyes shimmering with glee.

"fine, fine. hand it over."

"yay!" the two shouted in delighted unison.

⋆ ★

"huh? where's venti?" amber asked aether, looking for her friend.

"ah, he's uh.." aether stuttered, unsure of how to word it correctly.

"he's... doing something. you should go now, it'll get crowded soon." xiao grimaced, not sounding too fond of what venti was doing.

"alright, bye xiao!" hu tao called out while walking, then whipping her phone out to take a selfie of you three. "aren't you guys glad we got vip tickets? perks of knowing the guys performing, am i right?"

"you mean i got us vip tickets. you practically begged me for them. and don't you have more mora than me? you better pay me back later!" amber huffed, hands on her hips.

"but those are for my coffin advertisement funds!" hu tao whined. "and zhongli keeps making me pay for him. something about childe refusing to be his 'human wallet'?"

"surely he didn't spend that much? after all, it is coming from your own pocket."

"trust me, amber, you do not know how much he can spend."

⋆ ★

“guys! it’s starting!” you held your breath in anticipation.

a wave of cheers rippled through the crowd as the spotlights flickered on, pointing at the middle of the stage. there, in all his glory, was none other than…

“i-is that venti?” amber gasped, shock evident on her face.

“holy shit, i think it is!” hu tao pulled her phone out, snapping a picture.

“um, why is he dressed like ei? don’t tell me he’s our ‘special guest.’” you mumbled the last part, trying not to let your disappointment show.

“yo, is he doing her signature move? but with a wine bottle?” someone said, voice echoing out through the shocked silence.

seconds later, whistles and applause rang through the night, as people laughed at the sight before them.

venti grinned, wielding his empty wine bottle like a mic. “thank you, thank you! but now, for our real guest…” he paused for dramatic effect.

“scaramouche!” the five band members yelled together.

the said man swaggered upstage, backlit with an assortment of purple and red lights, for more dramatic effect (you know, like the drama king he is). the fans went wild— you included.

“no fucking way!” you gaped in astonishment.

he met your wide-eyed gaze with a wink, smirking as if he heard you. head ducked away in embarrassment, you felt warmth crept up your face.

xiao donned his electric guitar, moving to stand next to scaramouche. he grabbed the mic off the stand as the teal-haired man plucked a few notes. the two shared a glance before turning to face the ever-enthusiastic crowd.

heizou rapped the wooden sticks onto the drums, while kazuha strummed the bass. aether and venti harmonized the backing vocals, as scaramouche sang the first few lines.

"指切りげんまん ホラでも吹いたら 針でもなんでも 飲ませていただき monday" (i pinky swear, if i do tell a lie I'm willing to swallow needles, or whatever, on a Monday)

"it doesn't matter if it's sunday!" everyone joined in.

xiao sang the next few lines, leaning into his own mic.

"鏡よ鏡よ この世で1番 変わることのない 愛をくれるのは だれ" (Mirror, mirror on the wall, Who in the world can give me unconditional love?)

"No need to ask cause it's my darling." they sang in synchrony, and you could've sworn scaramouche was staring at you, but perhaps it was your wishful thinking.

⋆ ★

"I'll always stick with ya, my baby."

"oh my~ he's totally looking at you y/n!" hu tao elbowed you, knocking you out of your music-induced trance.

you had no time to answer as the sounds of whoops and cheers drowned your voice— not that you knew how to respond. you clapped as well, thinking that it was the best concert you've been to (because of the song. not your crush. at least that's what you told yourself.)

as people filtered out and the smoke thinned, the three of you went backstage to your other friends.

"xiao! you never told me you knew scaramouche!" you accused, jabbing a finger at him.

he shrugged. "i didn't think you needed to know."

you grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. "you know how much i listen to him! i have his cds, his merch, what do you mean i didn't need to know!?"

hu tao pulled you off of an undisturbed xiao, laughing. "i think you forgot that he's right behind you."

you whirled around, face-to-face with the scaramouche. seeing him gave you butterflies, and better yet, he was smirking at you. is this heaven? you thought. or hell? i mean, i basically told him i was a die-hard fan. so much for playing it cool.

you opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"oh? i assume you want my autograph?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "or a photo, if that's more your style."

"i-uh." you internally berated yourself for not being able to speak properly.

"hm? what was that?" he leaned forward, wearing the most shit-eating grin you've ever seen.

"could you sign my ass?"

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

: ̗̀➛ a/n pt. 2: song is titled "shinunoga e-wa" by fuji kaze! (think of this as a rock cover of it) lyrics are from lyrics-letra and tatatan on yt!

#scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact #idol scaramouche #: ̗̀➛ ro writes

[pardi-real]

Judgment by Fallen Angel - SSR Lato Card Story

Chapter 1 - Lato's Choice

※ A notice before reading the Butler Story This story contains spoilers for the "Judgment by Fallen Angel" event story. It is recommended to read up to Chapter 12 of the event story before proceeding. If you wish to avoid spoilers, please return by pressing the button in the upper left corner.

Several days after the opening night at the theater... The butlers were once again diligently rehearsing for the next performance.

Click

> "How are you doing, guys?"

Fennesz: "Ah, my lord. Did you come to check on us? Fufu… thank you for making the effort."

In the dance practice room, Lato and Miyaji were present, but Berrien was nowhere to be seen.

> "Is Berrien still working?"

Fennesz: "N-No… actually..."

Miyaji: "Berrien strained his throat. Just to be safe, he's resting in his room."

> "What!? Is he okay?"

Miyaji: “Yeah, don't worry. It's probably because he overdid his lines-reading practice. It's not that serious, so he should recover soon if he rests."

> "That's a relief..."

Lato: "Come to think of it, Mr.Berrien… has been practicing every day without fail."

Fennesz: "Yeah... And on stage, he always needs to speak louder than usual."

Miyaji: "True. He's probably just worn out."

> "Will he make it in time for the next performance?"

Miyaji: "No... As a precaution, I'll have him rest for the next performance only. The show must go on. It's better for him to take a break and focus on recovering."

> "But who will play Berrien's role...?"

Miyaji: "Yeah, we were just discussing that. Normally, we'd find a replacement, but... It's too late to have someone memorize the lines now. So, I have a suggestion... How about combining the roles of the two fallen angels who defend humanity into one?"

Fennesz: "But won't that... increase Mr. Miyaji's lines significantly? As for me, I remember everyone's lines in my head, it's better for me to take the role instead…”

Miyaji: "No, Fennesz. I'd like you to rewrite the script for three characters. Since you wrote the script, you're the most suitable for that job."

Fennesz: “I-I see... Understood. Then I'll... do my best to make it easier for Mr. Miyaji."

Miyaji: "Yeah, thank you."

Lato: "Um, Prof. Miyaji."

Miyaji: "Hm? What is it, Lato?"

Lato: "If it's about Mr. Berrien's replacement... I'd like to give it a try too."

> "Huh...?"

Fennesz: "Lato... as Mr. Berrien's replacement?"

Lato: "Because... I feel like I'd get tired of playing the same role all the time. Since it's a rare opportunity, I'd like to try a different role."

Miyaji: "Hmm... I see…"

Fennesz: "B-but Lato... Can you memorize all of Mr. Berrien's lines starting now?"

Lato: "No, I don't memorize lines to begin with. I just say whatever comes to mind at the moment."

Fennesz: “N-now that you mention it..."

> "But it's amazing how he's still doing so well..."

Fennesz: "True, the opening night went smoothly despite that... Um... What do you think, Mr. Miyaji?"

Miyaji: "Well... If Lato wants to do it, I'd like to respect his wishes. I've performed various plays with him before... and I believe in his ability. Lato, you must be suggesting it because you think you can do it, right?"

Lato: "Yes. Since you're coming to watch, my lord... I want to show you a splendid performance."

Fennesz: "I see... I understand. So, please leave the script adjustments to me. I'll rewrite it so it doesn't feel forced with three characters."

Miyaji: “Yeah. If anything happens, I'll do my best to do a follow-up.”

Fennesz: "Thank you. Then, can I leave the role to you, Lato?"

Lato: "Kufufu... Thank you both for entrusting me."

Miyaji: "Of course. I believe in your ability to pull it off, Lato. Besides, It should be a good experience for you… playing a role with different values from your own."

> “Break a leg, Lato"

Lato: "Yes. My lord, please look forward to the next performance."

And so, Lato took on Berrien's role...

Until just before the next performance, the three of them practiced diligently.

~~~

On the day of the performance...

I was in the audience, anxiously waiting for the start time. There weren't any problems during rehearsals, but...

Would it really go well during the actual performance?

> (I hope it all goes well...)

As I prayed for that… The curtains finally rose on the stage.

…………

Fennesz: "………… Sigh..."

Lato: "Oh? What's wrong, Mr. Fennesz? Looking down at the ground with such a sigh…" 

Fennesz: "Lato... Look at that. Humans on the ground are at war again."

Lato: "Yes… It seems so."

Fennesz: "Even at this moment, angels are trying to destroy humans... Why can't they cooperate with each other?"

Lato: "Kufufu, the reason is simple... They're just like ants. You can tell from observing from above."

Fennesz: "Huh... A-ants?"

Lato: "Yes. Ants form colonies and often go to war with other colonies. Humans, ants... Perhaps it's the fate of living beings to fight among their own kind."

Fennesz: "Uh... I see... But even so... It's starting to feel more and more pointless. We've been fighting for so long to protect humans from angels..."

> (That was an improvisation, wasn't it…) > (I wonder if everything will be okay...)

From then on, Lato interjected ad-lib lines here and there… But thanks to Fennesz and Miyaji's follow-ups... there were no interruptions in the performance.

The audience didn't seem to notice anything amiss… There were no jeerings like during the opening night, and the play continued without a hitch… And finally, we reached the climax.

Chapter 2 - Lato's Choice

Miyaji: “I never desired to rule over humanity to begin with. They and I are on the same page when it comes to ‘the survival of humanity’."

Fennesz: "Yes... I agree. I have been given this power... I want to use it not only for myself... But also for those who are more important to me."

Lato: "Yes... It seems like we've reached a conclusion. We will continue to..."

As the play neared its end... I felt somewhat relieved, and while I was watching Lato's performance... Suddenly, our eyes met on stage.

Lato: "............"

> (Lato?)

Audience: "Hm...? What's wrong? Did he forget his lines...?"

Miyaji: "We will continue to protect humanity from now on... Right, Lato?"

Lato: "I'm sorry, Prof. Miyaji. But I really can't lie."

Miyaji: "Lie...?"

Fennesz: "Lie? What do you mean? You're not planning to say something like 'humanity would be better off perishing’ again, are you?"

Lato: "No, that's not my intention. I will protect humanity... But I just don't agree with 'equality'."

Fennesz: "Equality...?"

Lato: "Yes. Because even I want to freely choose whom to protect. For me, the value of life is not equal. Risking my life for people who don't matter to me is foolish. This life of mine... exists to protect those who are important to me."

Lato declared clearly on stage, while looking into my eyes: "I will abandon those who are worthless to me” ...

Even in a performance, those are such heavy words, for a devil butler who's stronger than humans. I could feel the unprecedented tension among the surrounding audience members.

> (W-what do we do...?)

After a few heavy seconds of silence, Miyaji spoke up.

Miyaji: "Yeah... That's fine. Sometimes, we may be forced to make such choices. Just because we have slightly more power than others... It's presumptuous to think we can save all of humanity. Since we can't save everyone... What we can do is... Make an effort to save as many lives as possible. And... Choose the lives that should be saved... It's about saving many 'precious lives'."

The tension among the nearby nobles seemed to ease slightly by Miyaji's words. It seemed like they interpreted the phrase "precious lives" as referring to themselves.

Miyaji: "Well then... Lato's conclusion is no different from ours. We will continue to protect humanity..."

Fennesz: "Well, even if they… hate us."

Lato: "Kufufu... Isn't that fine? Even if we're hated... there are already people who understand us. As long as there are people like that among humanity... We will never betray them...."

Fennesz: "........You're right. I guess that's enough for me, for now."

Miyaji: "Yeah. And one day, others will understand too. We believe that the sacrifices we've made for humanity will someday be worth it..."

Lato: "Yes. Let's pledge to continue protecting humanity from now on."

The curtains closed along with Lato's words on the stage. Applause and praise erupted from the relieved audience. As the play ended... After waiting for everyone in the audience to leave, Lato approached me and spoke.

Lato: "How was it, my lord? Watching from the audience... Did you enjoy it?"

> "There were so many ad-libs, it was nerve-wracking"

Lato: "I see. It seems we managed to not make it boring. Kufufu... It was also refreshing to me to play a different role from last time. And... While portraying Mr. Berrien's character... I felt like I understood his feelings even more now."

> "Berrien's feelings?"

Lato: "Yes. Mr. Berrien was... suffering because of the secret he kept from us, right? When I learned about it... I couldn't understand why he was suffering so much. If you only have the power to save one person... Isn't it natural to choose someone important to you? Sacrificing others for that person is inevitable. There's no need to feel guilty…"

> "But now you understand his feelings?"

Lato: "About that...  …… I was able to think this scenario 'If I were in Mr. Berrien's position' once again. 'Being able to save only one person' might be crueler than 'being unable to save anyone'. 

Because you feel responsible for the deaths of many people in exchange for saving one life. 

Unlike before... I now have... others I care about, besides Alec. And when the time comes to choose only one from among them... I think I would suffer like Mr. Berrien did.

In order to save the life of one important person... It means choosing the life of the other loved ones to die…"

> "Lato..."

Lato: "What would you do, my lord? Between me, Flure, and Prof. Miyaji... If you could only save one... Who would you choose? And... Whom would you let die…"

> "That's..."

I didn't know how to answer Lato's question... I want to cherish the butlers... So even in a hypothetical scenario, I couldn't carelessly give an answer. But Berrien had been forced into such choices multiple times in reality. Thinking about it... I felt uneasy all over again.

Lato: "Kufufu... I'm sorry, my lord."

> "Huh...?"

Lato: "Even though it's hypothetical, I ended up forcing you to make a difficult choice. But just by looking at your face... I feel like I know who you would choose."

> "R-really?"

Lato: "Yes. I feel like I understand you more than anyone else does. Well, even if you chose someone else... I would surely choose you."

> "Why..."

*Close-up* Lato: "Kufufu. That's needless to say, because I've decided that 'I will protect you.' Including Flure and Prof. Miyaji... And all the other butlers. I treasure them, of course... But I think everyone... Probably will choose the same as me."

> "I see..."

Lato: "Your well-being... We, the devil butlers, will protect it at all costs."

Despite Lato's gentle smile... I could sense his unwavering determination in his words. To protect me, even at the cost of his life... Responding to his determination... I'd do anything to save Lato. Once again, that feeling grew stronger.

END

#aknk #akuneko #devil butler with black cat #Card story #Lato Bacca #Judgment by Fallen Angel

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Heart. Sick. (m, cold)

clearly the clicky clacky keyboard helped my writers block because here I am, back to churning out a 5k fic in one day lmao. this is a Greyson-centric one, and tbh it's a lot of exposition, and a lot of character development. but don't worry - Greyson is plenty miserable throughout 😅 I hope you guys like these ones that are a little more plot-driven! I honestly set out to write fluff but it wanted to be a drama fest. classic. enjoy!

Cw: male, cold, some mess, coughing, sick character galavanting about instead of just going to bed, implied contagion

“What is your problem today?”

Greyson’s head snapped up at the sound of his boss’s voice. He raised an eyebrow and put down his knife; this seemed like the kind of conversation that required his full attention. “What?” he asked, brilliantly.

Elijah crossed his arms. He had been leaning against the prep table, but straightened up to his full height when the chef regarded him. “You’ve been here for an hour and you haven’t even stopped in the office to say hi,” he said. Did he hear how lame and codependent he sounded? Yes. But that was their friendship – lame, codependent, and most of all consistent. Greyson always made the office his first stop when he got in; they checked in with one another, mapped out the day, traded stories from the night before if one of them had been off. Not having his morning gossip session with Greyson made Elijah feel like he was living in a weird, wrong, nega-dimension, and he didn’t want that to become a thing.

The chef huffed out a laugh. “Seriously?” he asked, picking his knife back up. “I have a lot of shit to do today, Lij,” he said. “Matt called out.”

“Oh,” Elijah said, immediately feeling stupid. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I am telling you,” Greyson said, looking pointedly up at his boss. “Right now.”

Elijah bit his tongue; this was exactly what he meant. Greyson wasn’t himself today. Matt calling out was obviously stressful, but the chef never let things like that make him angry, or short, or snippy. Something was definitely off – he didn’t know what, but it was definitely something.

“Did he say why?” Elijah asked as Greyson continued to chop. Greyson stopped short again and looked back up.

“Why what?”

“Why he called out.”

“Who?”

“Jesus Christ, Greyson,” Elijah threw his hands in the air. “Did you smoke a bowl the second before you walked in today? Matt. Did Matt say why he was calling out?”

“Oh,” Greyson said, turning once again to his prep work. “Yeah, some sort of flu thing. I said if he has a fever he can’t come in.”

Ah. There it was.

Greyson and Matt were what everyone in the restaurant affectionately called the plague rats – that is to say, they were the ones who brought any illness that was roaming around New York City into the restaurant, ad infinitum. They were the partiers, the club kids (though Greyson, at thirty-one should have reached the end of his club kid stage years ago), the chronic sleepers-around, and the past few months, it had gone from going out a couple times a week, to going out every single night. Hardly a month went by that the two of them weren’t complaining of a sore throat, a cold sore, a stomach bug that they’d been gifted by one of their many nights out.

And, of course, they never went out partying without one another.

“Did he seem okay last night when you guys went out?” Elijah asked, the question so pointed it may as well have been an accusation. Greyson shrugged, covered up the last of the prepped vegetables with plastic wrap, and slid them into the reach-in cooler below the prep station.

“Maybe a little off,” Greyson said. “He didn’t mention anything.”

“What time did you guys leave?” Elijah asked. Greyson gave his boss an incredulous look.

“What are you, a cop? I don’t know, mom, one or two? What difference does it make?”

Elijah recoiled a bit at the chef’s snappiness. “Christ, sorry, just trying to suss out whether he’s actually sick or just hungover.”

“Who gives a fuck?” Greyson asked, pushing his hair back into a small ponytail and tying it with a rubber band Elijah knew came from a package of asparagus. “He’s not coming in, that’s all we really need to know, right? Are we gonna track him down and fire him if he’s hungover?”

“You are on one today,” Elijah said. “No, we’re not going to fucking track him down, Jesus Christ.” This time, Elijah went for an honesty-is-the-best-policy approach. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re in a mood because you have extra work to do, or because you feel like shit.”

Greyson rolled his eyes and breezed past Elijah. He yanked open the walk-in and stepped inside, his boss hot on his trail. The chef grabbed two heads of cauliflower and a few bunches of radishes and nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned to see Elijah practically on top of him. “Stop following me,” he growled, pushing past Elijah again.

“Greyson,” Elijah said to the rapidly-closing walk-in door. He pressed the red button to let himself out, and once again tailed the chef to the prep table. “Greyson, I just want to know if you’re alright,” Elijah said, keeping a healthy distance. Greyson took a deep breath and put down his knife.

“I am fine. Matt will be back tomorrow. Please, let me do my work. Ple – hh...hhNGSTHH-uhh!” Greyson crushed the sudden sneeze into his shoulder, picked up his knife, and continued his work, not acknowledging it at all. Elijah bit his cheek.

“Bless you,” the older man said, accusatory.

“Elijah,” Greyson said, not looking up, “leave me alone.”

Elijah nodded, not that Greyson could see it while he chopped. The GM turned, walked back to the office, and pulled out his phone to text Matt.

Hey, he typed into their chat. Heard you’re sick, hope you’re getting some rest.

Thx boss, Matt typed back almost-instantly. Should be good by tomorrow.

Elijah paused before sending his next text, but then did it before he could question himself too much. Just wanted to ask...was grey acting weird with you last night? He’s totally on one today.

It took a minute or two for Matt to text back – the three bubbles popped up and went away at least three times, as though Matt was trying to figure out what to say but kept second-guessing. Finally, the text came through.

Wait, is chef there today? He told me he was going to call shelly in.

Elijah cocked his head at the phone screen; Shelly, the sous chef Greyson had brought on a month ago, was scheduled off today. Why would he call her in?

No, it’s just greyson today. Why would he call shelly in?

This time, it took Matt no time to respond.

That asshole, he said he was going to take the day off.

I’m lost, Matt. Why would he take the day off…?

Another minute of bubbles popping up and going away ensued. When the text did come through, Elijah felt his face flame. That motherfucker, he thought, slamming his phone down, screen-up on the desk and stalking back to the prep kitchen.

On his open phone, the text from Matt: he gave me this shit. We literally went and had one drink, then he said he had to go bc he felt like trash. Fuckin greyson.

Fuckin’ Greyson. That was for damn sure.

***

He knew he was coming down with something on Monday, but it was one of those excruciatingly slow-to-come-on illnesses that made you wonder if you were actually just crazy, and this whole thing was in your head. A sneeze here, a rogue cough, the sore throat that came and went with several long drinks of water – for three days, Greyson gaslit himself, told himself he was imagining it, took Emergen-C and chalked it up to allergies.

“Morning, boss,” Matt had greeted him.

By the time Thursday – yesterday – had come around, it finally hit him properly. Greyson woke up with a heavy feeling in his chest, his head throbbing, and a lump in his throat to match the one in his stomach. He sighed as he got ready, loaded up on dayquil, and headed into work.

Greyson had returned the greeting with a rough, “HNGSTHH-ue!” and a sharp sniffle. Matt winced as his boss unpacked his knife bag.

“Yikes,” he said, “I guess that girl from the bar last night wasn’t just doing a lot of coke, then?”

“More like the guy I stayed the night with on Saturday didn’t just have a naturally deep and husky voice,” Greyson said, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. “It’s the world’s slowest-to-come-on cold, I swear. I’ve been almost sick since Monday.” He coughed into his sleeve for what felt like a long moment, came up to see a water bottle placed in front of him. “Thanks.”

“No worries,” Matt said. “That makes sense, though,” he continued, “because I can definitely feel it coming on. Thought maybe it was allergies.”

“Sorry, kid,” Greyson said. “We’ll get you outta here early.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “If you’re here, I’m here, boss,” he said. The two of them had prepped in near-silence for awhile, before Greyson seemed to realize something was off.

“Has Elijah come back here yet this morning?” he asked, and Matt shook his head.

“Isn’t he off today? I think Mark said he had some sort of appointment.”

Greyson flashed Matt a little look and the sous chef blushed – Matt and Mark were very recently a thing, a fact that was clear to everyone in the restaurant and that the two of them were attempting to hide, as if any fling that took place within the confines of these walls was anything other than obvious. Greyson figured now wasn’t the time to bully his muse.

“Thank god he’s not here,” he said instead. “Elijah, I mean. I’m so sick of him giving me shit every time I have a stuffy no – NGTSHH-uh! Hh...HTSHH-ue! Fuck.” Greyson slunk away from his prep area to blow his nose, cough again, and wash his hands.

“Bless,” Matt said when Greyson made his way back to his station. “To be fair to Elijah -”

“No,” Greyson stopped Matt by holding up a hand. “We’re not talking about this.”

“I was just going to say, I mean, you have been out a lot since the whole… breakup situation.” The way Matt trailed off made it obvious that he immediately regretted bringing this up. Greyson sniffled, stayed silent for a few moments, and then sighed.

“You're one to talk. And besides, I don’t know how it’s my fault that every club in a five-mile-radius is a cesspool,” Greyson muttered, a lame attempt at a joke. Matt took the bait and huffed out a laugh.

“I don’t think Elijah blames you for the general grossness that is the midtown club scene,” he said. “I think he’s just worried about you.”

Greyson wasn’t so sure. Maybe it had started as worry; worrying was one of Elijah’s greatest passions, after all. But it had been six months since Greyson and Collin had broken up, and in that time worry had turned to annoyance, which had led to what felt like resentment. A month before, Greyson had been laid up with strep throat, thanks to a girl who he swore was trying to steal his tonsils with how deep she shoved her tongue into his mouth, and Elijah didn’t even try to hide his distaste.

“Seriously, Grey?” he had asked when the chef stumbled into the restaurant sweating, shivering, and unable to speak. “Who over the age of twelve gets strep throat? What’s next, mono? Chicken pox? Run the gambit of diseases kids get from putting their hands in too many people’s mouths?”

Greyson knew it was stupid to go out drinking and partying every night; he knew he was too old, knew it was irresponsible, he knew he should be processing the breakup instead of drowning every feeling he had about it in booze and sex. He knew. But he just couldn’t do it. Collin was the first person he’d ever really loved; getting over the coldness with which his first love threw in the towel that was their relationship was easier said than done.

He certainly wasn’t going to tell Elijah of all people that. He loved the man; Elijah was his best friend, his business partner, the guy he called first when something amazing or devastating happened, but this was not his strong suit. Elijah was basically a nun when it came to all things partying; he prided himself on never having more than two drinks when they went out, never sleeping around, and being married to the restaurant. Greyson loved Elijah, but he knew that the GM just wouldn’t get it.

So, the reprieve from being harassed about his near-constant menagerie of illnesses was a welcome one. He and Matt had prepped, passing a box of tissues between them the entire time, they’d gotten through a relatively slow service and, like every night the past few months, they’d ended the evening at a bar a few blocks from Elliot’s.

Greyson wanted to want to be there, truly he did, but he didn’t have it in him. Maybe it was the thought of being the only chef in the next day – Matt was well and truly coming down with the cold Greyson had come in with – or maybe it was just that the constant barrage of illnesses was starting to wear on his body, but the thought of staying awake for another minute, let alone another few hours, made Greyson’s head pound.

“I’m gonna call it,” Greyson said, shooting back his whiskey and placing a twenty on the bar top. “Take the day tomorrow, alright?”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “What about you?” he asked, coughing into the back of his hand. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Greyson said, elbowing Matt playfully. “I’ll call Shelly in, okay? I’ll take the day, too.” It was a lie; Shelly wasn’t ready for the responsibility of running a Friday night, not even a slow one, but if it made Matt take a day off, it was worth it to lie.

“Alright,” Matt said, wary. “Well, have a good night, Chef. Feel better.”

“Same to you,” Greyson said. “Tell Mark I said night-night. Give him a little kiss for me, too.”

Matt’s face turned bright red. By the time he’d collected himself enough to respond, his boss was gone.

***

“Greyson!”

Elijah stomped his way through the kitchen, on the hunt. He reached the back kitchen before Greyson could hear him, and the chef was blowing his nose into a rough paper towel looking caught, like a deer in the headlights.

“You fuckin’ asshole,” Elijah said, “why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“I’m not sick,” Greyson said, sniffling and tossing the paper towel. His eyes, Elijah noticed now, were rimmed red, and his voice was low and gravelly. “It’s allergies.”

“Right,” Elijah rolled his eyes. “Contagious allergies? Allergies you passed along to Matt? For Christ’s sake, Greyson, I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you lately, but you need to get it together. If Matt’s sick, that means Mark is going to get sick, then my entire front of house team gets it. What do you think you are, twenty-three years old? You can’t go out every single night and sleep around with anything that has a hole and also have an eighty-hour-a-week job. You’re not a kid, Greyson. This behavior? It’s childish. And I’m fuckin’ sick of it.”

Greyson stood there and took it, his mouth in a hard line. “Okay,” he said after a beat.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” he repeated. “You’re right. I’ll – hh! HhhIGSTZH-ue! Huh! HuhhESTCHZUE!” The chef sneezed painfully into his elbow, cleared his throat, and righted himself. “I’ll stop. It’s childish. Okay?” his voice was nasal, hoarse, and tight, as though he was on the verge of tears. All the fight Elijah had brought to the back kitchen was rung out of him like a washcloth at the end of a long bath.

“Um,” he said, “okay. Good. Now, go home. I’ll call in Shelly, I’m closing the books, it’ll be an easy night. Go rest so you can be good for the weekend.”

The chef just nodded, not making eye contact. “Heard,” he said, packing up his things. He didn’t beg to stay, didn’t insist that he was fine. He just picked up his bag, nodded at Elijah, and said, “See you tomorrow.”

Elijah was so in shock, he didn’t even respond until Greyson was out the door. “Yeah,” he mumbled, blinking. “See you tomorrow.”

***

The pulse of the music thumped in time with Greyson’s headache; it was oddly soothing, if a little disconcerting how in tune the two were.

“I’ll take andother,” he called to the bartender as loudly as he could muster. The bartender nodded, brought the bottle over, and topped him off, smiling seductively all the while.

“This one’s on the house, love,” he said in a faint British accent that Greyson couldn’t decide was real or fake. “What’s your name?”

“You’re very cute,” Greyson slurred, all levity out the window three drinks ago. “But I’mb sick as a dog, and I’mb ndot trying to pass it around any mbore than I already have.”

The bartender laughed. “This job is worse than a daycare when it comes to germs,” he said over the thrum of the crowd and the bass of the music. “Pretty sure I’m immune to just about everything at this point.”

Greyson let a sloppy smile paint his face. “Mbust be ndice,” he said, taking a swallow of his drink, then turning to his elbow to cough. “I work in a kitchend, it’s just about as bad but I haven’t seemed to gain any immu – immu...huh...hhINGTZHH-ue! HTSHH-ue! HRSHH-ue!” Greyson pulled his white tshirt over his nose and mouth and ducked almost completely under the bar to sneeze. He swore under his breath, sucked in through his nose, and sat himself upright once again. The bartender tutted in sympathy.

“Poor thing,” he said, smiling slyly. “You should be in bed.”

He wasn’t wrong; after Elijah’s blowup, Greyson had certainly thought about doing the right thing, going home, crawling into bed and actually attempting to get better. It had only been noon when he left the restaurant, and if he didn’t have to be in til noon the next day, that was almost a full twenty-four hours that he could spend doing nothing except relaxing, resting… being alone with his thoughts…

Yeah, that wasn’t about to happen.

Instead, Greyson had walked forty blocks to Greenwich and had lunch at one of his favorite spots. He’d moved on to a coffee shop from there, writing in his little black notebook recipes that he wanted to try out at Elliot’s. After that, he’d stopped into a CVS and bought them out of dayquil; three or four swigs later, and he was on his phone rapidly texting anyone he’d slept with in the past two months to see if they wanted to hang out. They did not.

The failed attempts at a hookup sent him into a darker place than he’d like to admit, so Greyson decided four pm was late enough to start drinking, and he took a cab back to midtown to begin his nightly spiral. The bar with the cute bartender was stop number four of the evening; at stop two, the dayquil had worn off. By stop three, he was coughing every time he took too deep of a breath. This was the stop where he’d given up the facade of health and just allowed himself to be the grossest person at the bar – much to everyone but this bartender’s chagrin.

“Yeah,” he said to the bartender, “you’re probably right.”

The bartender winked and turned back to the other bar patrons, leaving Greyson to sit foggy-headed and cold, alone with his whiskey. He looked at the clock on his phone – 11:45PM. The restaurant was probably empty by now. He wondered if Elijah was still there, finishing up paperwork; he thought about texting him, then remembered the blowup again. Greyson put his phone away, pulled a fifty out of his wallet, and ducked out of the bar.

It was cold outside; it was barely September, but Greyson could definitely feel that fall was in the air. He didn’t realize until now that he’d forgotten his jacket at work. Fuck.

Greyson shoved his hands into his pockets, shivering – there was no way he was going to make it back to his apartment without a jacket. The chef looked up at the street signs and realized he was only a block or two from the restaurant. Fuck it, he thought, sneezing into his exposed elbow. I’m getting that jacket.

***

It had been a long shift.

Shelly was great, really – she was just young, and a little bit scared of the enormity of running a restaurant. Elijah had figured that out at about seven pm, when she was nearly in tears with just six tickets on the board. But they had gotten through it, with Elijah taking over expo and Shelly running inside middle. It was fine. Long? Yes. But fine.

At eleven, the restaurant had emptied and with it went the servers, cooks, and junior managers. Elijah finished up his paperwork, locked the front door, set the alarm, and sat down at the empty bar with a glass of whiskey – just him, the thrum of the heater, and the restaurant.

When he was feeling really low, Elijah would spend hours like this; just sitting at his bar, looking out into the dining room, reeling in what he had created. This space was his, a place that he had spent his entire life clawing upwards for, despite the drone of older restaurateurs telling him he was too young, or too poor, or too talentless to own his own place. Elijah hadn’t grown up with money, or support, or any kind of nepotism that would have propelled him into this field, but he’d grown up with something most people hadn’t – drive. Passion. An absolute need to succeed, despite it all. Sometimes he needed to remind himself of that.

He knew that no one could really understand his reasons for being as anal as he was about everything in the restaurant – not even Greyson, though his counterpart came close. Often, Elijah felt like he spent his life explaining himself; explaining why he wasn’t married or even dating at thirty-nine, explaining why things had to be done a certain way so that appliances and tables and chairs and glassware and plates would last as long as humanly possible; explaining why people should care about his restaurant, his vision. Sometimes, Elijah wished he didn’t have this fire inside him. This passion for his work. He knew damn well his life would be easier if he didn’t.

Elijah looked at his phone as midnight approached, thinking about the day, thinking about Greyson. He wished things had gone down differently this morning, but he know Greyson could be like a kid when it came to arguments – quick to forgive, quick to forget. Sometimes that made Elijah feel even worse; he wished the other man would scream back at him, give in to his baser desires like Elijah was so wont to do when it came to arguing. Greyson saved those more carnal instincts for after work, Elijah supposed.

It would be worked out by tomorrow, whether Elijah wanted it to or not. He sighed, drained his glass, and went to turn off the lights behind the bar – when the alarm began blaring.

Elijah froze in his tracks. Who the fuck was breaking into the restaurant?

The GM burst through the doors to the kitchen and ran towards the back, absolutely nothing to defend him in his hands. If he was defending his restaurant, he was doing so with his bare hands; he’d figuratively clawed his way up to this position, he would certainly literally claw someone’s eyes out if they attempted to take it from him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Elijah heard someone at the back door before he saw them. He slowed his pace when he heard the voice. Greyson.

“Grey?” Elijah called, turning the corner and seeing the chef clumsily attempting to turn the alarm off. Greyson was wearing just a tshirt and jeans despite it being near-freezing outside, and the way he was fumbling with the alarm system meant he was almost certainly wasted. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Greyson turned to his boss and smiled, lopsided. He looked like shit; he was as pale as his shirt, his nose was bright red and running so much that he had taken to swiping a hand under it every few seconds, and Elijah could hear the wheeze in every breath he took. “Oh, thangk God,” he said, moving out of the way so Elijah could turn the alarm system off. “I thought if that back was opend, I could just sneak in. To grab mby jacket.” Greyson coughed away from Elijah, an angry, productive sound that made the GM flinch. “Sorry,” Greyson said. “It’s cold outside.”

“I’m well aware,” Elijah said, turning away from the now-silent alarm. “What are you doing out? You’re supposed to be at home. Getting better. Remember, I sent you home twelve hours ago? What have you been doing, out partying? You’re sick, Greyson.”

“I kndow, I kndow,” Greyson said, yanking the rubber band out of his hair and letting it fall wildly around his shoulders. “I just… I… hh… huh! HuhhhIGTSZHH-ue! HTSH! HRSHH-uh! Fuck – HNGSTHHZUE!” The sneezes wrenched themselves from him, rough and painful-sounding. Greyson stood, post-fit, and pushed his hair back with a hand. “Sorry,” he said, his voice wavering.

Elijah sighed; it was too late to fight. “C’mon,” he said, “let’s go sit for a bit. I can’t send you home like this.”

He led them both back to the bar and, despite his better judgment, poured them each a whiskey. Greyson coughed and took a swig of his before Elijah even sat down. “Thangks,” he said.

“Don’t mention it.” Elijah drank his whiskey slowly, trying to decide what to say to the chef. After a moment of silence so tense it could be sliced through with a butcher knife, both Elijah and Greyson attempted to start a conversation at the same time.

“Grey, I -”

“Lij, it’s-”

They both stopped, smiled at the absurdity, and Elijah motioned to the chef as if to say the floor is yours.

“Ndo, you go ahead,” Greyson said, sipping his drink. “Besides, I cand barely talk.”

Elijah couldn’t disagree with him there, so he let out one forced little laugh and then sighed. “Grey, I’m sorry. Really. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“Grey,” Elijah said finally, turning towards his friend, “what’s been going on, really? You’re… something is wrong. You’re not… you.”

Greyson shrugged. “I shouldn’t be bringing every disease kndown to mban into the restaurant, but here we are,” he said, coughing into his fist. Elijah laughed in earnest this time, and the two of them lapsed into silence once again.

Greyson pursed his lips, downed the rest of his drink, and cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re right. I’mb ndot.” The chef sighed and turned his barstool towards Elijah. “It’s… it’s the whole Collin thing. It’s beend… a lot harder than I thought it would be. Getting over himb.” Greyson sniffled; Elijah was unsure if it was illness-related, or if the other man was crying. He was quickly given an answer when Greyson wrenched to the side – “HGTSHH-ue! Hh! HhhNGTSHZ-ue!” The chef wiped his nose on the back of his hand and cringed. “Sorry,” he said.

Elijah shook his head. “Dude,” he said, “you could’ve just told me you were taking it harder than you expected. You know I’m always here if you need to talk. I thought we were friends.”

“Lij, we are friends, but like… I don’t kndow. It’s weird talking to you about this shit because you don’t… I don’t kndow, fuck up. You take everything in stride, like it all rolls off your back. I’mb ndot like that. Plus, you literally ndever date - I’ve ndever kndown you to have a single girlfriend, let alonde break up with someone, and we’ve kndown each other for years.” Greyson pressed his hand into one of his eyes and groaned. “Fuck, I thingk I’mb getting andother fuckigg sindus infection,” he muttered. Elijah gave his friend a pointed look.

“The fact that you know off the top of you head exactly what that feels like definitely says something about these past few months,” he said, prompting a sharp laugh and the middle finger from Greyson. Elijah smiled. “You’re right,” he said, after a beat. “I don’t date. There was a girl, a long time ago – before I bought this place. I thought we were going to get married one day.”

Greyson’s eyebrows shot up, headache clearly forgotten. “Ndo way,” he said. “You’re shitting mbe. You? What was her name? Do I know her?”

Elijah laughed. “You don’t know her,” he said. “She was actually a chef, too, at this vegan brunch place in the Financial District. But she wanted kids, she wanted me to have a job where I could be home in the evenings…” Elijah shrugged, a fingernail digging into a groove in the bar top. “It just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Dude,” Greyson said, placing a hand on Elijah’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, man.”

Elijah shrugged again, and looked back up at Greyson. “It was a long time ago,” he said. “But I mean – I do get it. Heartbreak, that is. You can talk to me about anything, Greyson. And I’m not some let-it-roll-off-your-back, take-it-in-stride monolith, either.” He smiled, attempting to break the tension. “Obviously I get pissed all the time so just… talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. I want to help.”

The two of them sat in silence once again, neither really knowing the right thing to say next. Finally, Greyson’s body broke the tension: “HNGTSHH-ue! God, fuck,” the chef reached across the bar and attempted to blow his nose in a cocktail napkin – to no avail.

“Bless you,” Elijah said, and Greyson nodded.

“Thangks,” he said, slowly lowering his head to the bar top. “Fuck, I feel like such hot garbage. The going out every ndight thigg is definitely ndot for anyone over thirty.”

Elijah couldn’t help but cackle. “And you wonder why I have a two-drink-maximum hard line? I’d be dead on the floor if I drank like you and Matt. Welcome to old age, bud.”

“Yeah, you mbight be on to something there,” Greyson said, closing his eyes. “Definitely ndot gonna be hooking up with anyone under twenty-five anymbore, either. They’re all cesspools. HGTSHH-ue!”

“Bless,” Elijah said again. “Want me to drive you home?”

Greyson opened one red, watering eye. “In a mbinute,” he said. “I just ndeed to...rest mby eyes.”

Elijah pursed his lips to keep from laughing at the spectacle that was Greyson; mouth-breathing, whiskey-smelling, chest-crackling Greyson. Heartbreak didn’t look good on anyone, but on him it was especially rough. Within moments, the chef was snoring.

Elijah shook his head, stripped a table of its clean white cloth, and placed it over Greyson’s shoulders. Rest was rest, he figured. Elijah poured himself a rare third drink and sat next to his ailing friend.

“Sleep well, Chef,” he said, and took a long pull.

#whiskeyswriting #snz #sickfic #snzfic #coldfic #snzblr #snez #male cold #male snz #contagion #another long one gah sorry guys #if you made it this far i hope you liked it!! #& prompts are always open im always looking for inspiration #❤️❤️

[saturnznct]

d-7; they make him a christmas card | ldh

➸ word count; 867 words

➸ dalgun; aged 11, kyungah; aged 6, sunhee; aged 2

nct masterlist | dadmas masterlist (lnks will be added later)

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Donghyuck absolutely loved anything and everything that his children made. With having three children all aged within elementary school and pre-school it was constant. The paintings, drawings, sewing projects, clay models, posters, easter cards, father’s day cards, halloween cards, and pictures made from stuck down seeds, stones or other random materials. Donghyuck cherished every single one of these art pieces, insisting to you that each child was a prodigy and was going to make it big as an artist one day. He kept everything in a box under the bed, treating them as keepsakes for the future and almost like reassurance that his children’s creative minds are alive and blossoming. So when this year, you wanted to have his Christmas presents be a bit more personal, you thought a card was a perfect place to start. 

He was out of on schedules for a lot of the day, leaving you plenty of time to have the kids make three individual cards for Donghyuck. You practically bought all of the craft stores stock, barely any of your dining room table could be seen underneath. 

‘Have you guys thought about what you’re going to draw on daddy’s card?’ you ask, hoping to pick their brains a little.

‘I-I’m going draw daddy, dancing as Santa,’ Sunhee chirps, grabbing a red crayon from the carton.

‘I’m sure he’ll love that,’ you chuckle, ‘what about you, Kyungah?’

‘I think I’ll do a snowman,’ she purses her lips, in thought, ‘I think I’ll use black card and the special pen.’

‘Good choice,’ you nod, ‘Dalgun?’

‘I’m not sure yet, still thinking..’

You do some work of your own while the kids craft, going through bills and finances and other things that needed organised.

’Sunhee!’ Kyungah suddenly exclaims, prompting your head to snap up. 

There’s a patch of silver glitter across the table, from a tall pot. Sunhee looks mortified, quickly turning to look at you and gage your reaction.

‘It’s okay Sunhee, accidents happen,’ you give her shoulder a reassuring pat, ‘it can be cleaned up.’

You grab a dustpan, quickly sweeping up the glitter from the table and throwing it into the dustbin.

‘Do you want some help?’ you ask Sunhee, who’s card is covered in red, green and blue scribbles, and now specks of silver glitter.

‘I think I’m done,’ she examines her work.

‘Would you like mummy/mommy to write the message for you?’

‘Please,’ she nods, before deciding she’s well and truly finished with the task, hopping off her chair and running into the living room, where you can thankfully still see her as she plays. 

You write down a message for Donghyuck, signing Sunhee’s name for her, since she hadn’t learned to write yet. Kyungah and Dalgun finish up their cards and write their own messages.

Donghyuck doesn’t arrive home until late, way past your daughter’s bedtimes, and a little past Dalgun’s.

‘Have the kids been okay today?’ he asks you as he finally gets into bed, sinking into the mattress with a deep sigh.

‘Yeah, we had a fun day,’ you grin, settling into his arms, ‘the kids made a surprise for you.’

‘Oh really?’

‘Yeah, give it to you tomorrow.’

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

‘Dada!’

‘Hello my angel,’ Donghyuck lifts Sunhee into his arms, ‘good morning.’

‘Daddy, we have a surprise for you,’ Kyungah holds out the three envelopes, two with ‘Dad’ and ‘Daddy’ written in Dalgun and Kyungah’s handwriting, the other with ‘Dada’ written in yours.

‘Ah, what’s this?’ Donghyuck coos, ‘you three are so cute! Which one should I open first?’

‘Let’s go youngest to oldest,’ you suggest, preventing a possible argument from breaking out.

Donghyuck opens the envelope with ‘Dada’ written on, face breaking into a huge smile when he sees that Sunhee has made the card herself.

‘What’s this?’

‘Daddy dressed like Santa, on the stage.’

‘Oh, of course,’ Donghyuck smacks himself on the head as if he’s said something completely stupid, ‘I love it, you drew so well, Sunhee!’

‘Me next!’ Kyungah chimes in.

Donghyuck opens the next envelope, pulling out a drawing on black card of a Snowman in the snow, drawn with a special white pen that shows up on the black paper.

’Kyungah, you’re so great at drawing,’ Donghyuck praises, ‘it’s really neat!’

‘Thank you daddy,’ she says shyly.

‘Now,’ Donghyuck opens the card, ‘To Daddy, I hope we can have a fun Christmas together. I miss you. Love from Kyungah.. Ah, come here.’

He pulls his older daughter into a hug, ‘I miss you too, Kyungie. Thank you, I love my card.’

’Time for Dalgun,’ you say, Donghyuck quickly unsealing the envelope, and pulling out a card.

You feel a pull on your heartstrings when you realise Dalgun has drawn a family portrait, the five of you in front of a big Christmas tree.

‘Ah, Dalgun, I love it,’ Donghyuck looks genuinely incredibly moved, full of pride by what his children have made for him.

’To Dad, Merry Christmas, you’re the coolest. From Dalgunie. Ah thank you, son. The three- the four of you are amazing.’

‘Ok, family hug,’ you hold out your arms, the rest of the family joining in.

‘Right, let’s get these straight on the mantelpiece.’ 

#dadmas 2022 #dad!haechan #dad!donghyuck #haechan dad au #dad!nct #nct dad au #haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #haechan scenarios #donghyuck scenarios #haechan imagine #haechan reader insert #haechan au #haechan blurbs #haechan fluff #donghyuck fluff #haechan fic #haechan fanfic #haechan x y/n #nct fluff #haechan timestamp #haechan soft hours #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct dream x reader #haechan #lee haechan #lee dalgun #lee sunhee #nct dream fluff

[kuromiiyuuu]

i have a request :]! genshin men when people flirt ironically (in the mean spirited way) with the reader if it would be okay :)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ “What did you just say?”

diluc, and itto, (f).

genres + warnings. fluff! | slight harassment! |

notes i. im really sorry in advance, i quite didn’t get what you mean by ‘in a mean spirited way’ so i hope this is close enough!

diluc. you were helping alongside your husband for the tavern, lifting heavy boxes that contained new arrival of alcohol and wines. Both of you were having a great time alongside some of the workers from the tavern, you actually didn’t think big about it, until, a drunken man approached you suddenly whilst you were in the midst of lifting one of the boxes.

“What a pretty girl you are huh?” He would suddenly say and you flinch slightly, being flustered and also surprised by the sudden voice and statement that caught you off guard.

You remained silent, feeling like in this situation it was much better than to say any word that will trigger the almost flaming fire.

“Woah, you’re one of those hard to get huh?” He would exclaim once again, now you turned around, trying to find anyone to help you and walk away from the situation but he suddenly stops you by grabbing harshly on your arm and you instantly look back.

“Ah— let me go!” You would pass at him, his gaze now threatening and narrowing.

“She said let her go.” A familiar voice catches both of you and as if on cue, the man removes his grip from you and Diluc appears right behind you.

“Oh master Diluc! I... This is a misunderstanding.” He would exclaim in a flustered state in an instant while your heart still beating fast from the experience, “I was just trying to get to know this pretty lady.

“But she seemed to have a problem with me, girls are picky now days you know.” He says, clearly it tells you he wasn’t aware that you were Diluc’s significant other.

“They should be, to avoid guys like you. You have no rights to lay a single hand on any woman, that includes my woman.”

itto. you were having a great time by sitting alone on one of itto’s show, you were entertained every second, a giggle, a laugh and a chuckle came out from you whenever your boyfriend gets on stage, it was nice seeing him so excited and happy. The ino would once in a while look your way to give you his happiest grin, or a wink, and even a thumbs up. It wraps up your day as a whole, you were grateful to have someone like him in your life.

“You sitting all alone here?” A voice catches you off guard and you almost snapped your head towards the voice and you were met by a man older than you, he eyes the chair beside you, almost instantly you knew what his intentions were.

“Uh... yeah.” You were better off to end the conversation quickly, not wanting to get stuck on such uncomfortable situation.

The man sits willingly beside you, uncomfortably close may I add. You shifted on your seat and on instinct you slightly moved your chair away from him and he takes on your actions.

“Oh, do I make you uncomfortable sweetie?” The mysterious and eerie man asks you with a smug smirk and this time, your guts started to yell at you to stand up and walk away, call this conversation done, “Don’t be, I’m just here to make some friends after all, by the way, you have no boyfriend? No husband to get angry at me?”

“Actually there is.” You reply, you turn over to him, lifting your head up to show him you weren’t afraid.

“Of course there is, a girl with this kind of body i—

Before he can even continue further with his statement, a what looks like a prop from the play was thrown at the guy, and the audience simultaneously gasps at what happened. The guy deservedly flies from his chair and onto the ground with a groan coming out from him.

And before you knew it, a familiar shadow looms over you, you turned your head towards the figure, not caring about the guy who had blood dripping from his nose.

“Itto.” You mumble, he stood there with narrowed eyes and it slightly glows, you can see he was very pissed, his fists clenched on his sides tells you that clearly. It was unusual to see him so serious, and a cursed word leaves his mouth, catching you completely off guard.

“Oh my bad, but what the fuck did you just say? I didn’t hear you.” 

notes ii. It’s just diluc and itto for today cause the scenarios are pretty long, probably gonna make a part ii for other characs:>.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff #diluc #diluc x reader #diluc fluff #itto #itto x reader #itto fluff

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

Satanic panic: 8 Oct. Suptober

"Okay. Okay, here's the thing," Sam said, clearly struggling to keep his volume low and still be heard over the milling police, sounds of a crowd cheering on the other side of the venue's stage, and the weeping wailings of several nearby… 

Castiel wasn't sure what they were. Leather-bound, pentagram-tattooed lizard people? The rest of the band, he was given to understand.

Sam continued, "Satanic panic, 1980s style? Fake news. Never proven. All the pearl clutching and accusations about ritualistic satanic sacrifices and abuses, totally unsubstantiated. At best, you could say, yes, people did panic, but wholly without cause."

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Now, this so-called death metal – Satan metal – band is on its fifth lead singer in five years."

"Right."

"Except they've all been the same guy."

"I thought the first one was different," Castiel interjected.

Both brothers shook their heads. "Same guy," Dean said. "Different, y'know, whatta you call 'em." He snapped his fingers a couple of times. "Vestments." 

"Vestments, names, personas, et cetera," Sam huffed. "Different positions in the larger cult."

"Only it's not really a cult?" Castiel was having a hard time keeping up.

"Right, it's all phony." Dean rolled his eyes; he'd been loudly vocal, earlier, about his distaste for this particular band.

Castiel asked, "Is it important that all of the lead singers were only one man?" 

Sam gave a grin like a grimace emoji. (Castiel liked sending texts with that one.) "It's relevant, possibly, because part of the lore – the storyline – of the band was that every lead singer was 'replaced'." He made finger quotes. "Which is to say, 'murdered'." 

"But it was just the one man changing costumes," Castiel deduced. "That's somewhat clever."

"Some people think so." Dean looked askance at Sam.

"Several of their songs are great, pointedly political commentaries about the corruption of modern life and the downfall of empires," Sam said, in a tone that indicated the debate with Dean was ongoing.

"It's a shame then," Castiel said, squatting to pull the bloody sheet down from the face of the corpse sprawled halfway out of the dressing room doorway, "that the lead singer seems to be literally dead this time."

He didn't have to ask why this case warranted the Winchester's skillset. The singer's eyes were burned clear out of his head.

He looked up at Dean and Dean nodded, grimly.

-

"What are you reading?" Dean manhandled Cas enough to be able to crawl into bed behind him, his thighs bracketing Cas's hips. As it was one of Dean's usual nighttime routines, Cas allowed the interruption without complaint.

"In this story, apparently we're investigating the killing of a famous singer who leads a made-up satanic cult." Cas showed him the screen of the old tablet Sam had given him. 

"Pretty sure most satanic cults are made up," Dean said, hooking his chin over Cas's shoulder. "And I'm sayin' that even though I've met actual Satan."

"Throughout the ages there've been more than a few cults dedicated to Lucifer," Cas admitted. "But most of them didn't really know who they were worshiping, and certainly not in any way that would've been useful to Lucifer."

"I guess that's comforting to hear," Dean muttered. He coughed into Cas's shoulder. "Hey. We get up to anything sexy in that story?"

"Hmm." Cas scrolled back up to the top of the first chapter. "It's rated General Audiences."

"Ah," Dean said, his fingers tickling up Cas's ribs while Cas turned in his arms. "Guess we'll have to write our own fic."

#suptober23 #deancas #destiel #spn #with apologies to the band ghost... #snippetfic #fic #suptober

[mackenzielovee]

parenthood part five: unconditional

a/n: hi ah im so excited and i hope you guys enjoy this, it's a rainy day where i am and i just loved the comfort this gives. let me know what you think! <3

warnings: swearing, pregnancy + labor, slight smut at the end (hehe)

ambivalence masterlist , parenthood masterlist

     “Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”

You laugh and shake your head at Rafe, squeezing his hand to reassure him. About ready to pop, it remains virtually impossible for you to just lean forward and give him a kiss without some assistance from him as well. 

“I’m sure. It’s going to be a boring day, don’t worry,” you promise. 

“Hey, thanks,” Scott cuts in sarcastically. 

You laugh and apologize to him, watching as he holds Connor and tugs on his collared shirt every now and then to get his attention. 

Scott is getting his own apartment and needs help packing up his boxes, and when you volunteered, Rafe read him a list of all the things you’re not allowed to do. In turn, Scott paid Topper twenty bucks to invite Rafe – which turned into Rafe and Connor – out to the Club to hit the driving range and get lunch afterward. 

“Okay,” Rafe sighs, “Connor, say bye.”

Connor gives Scott a hug and bids him goodbye before running over to you, giving you and your belly a kiss goodbye. 

Rafe scoops Connor up, then leans over your stomach to give you a reluctant kiss. 

“I love you so much,” he tells you, “Call me if–”

“I know,” you laugh, “I love you, too. You guys have fun.”

“Later, Mama!” Connor calls as he gets carried out the door by his father, who steals one last, longing look at you.

“Later, Connor,” you smile. 

Call me, Rafe mouths. You nod and blow him a kiss, then watch as he swings the front door closed behind them. You sigh and turn to Scott, who is already holding up a tape gun and a broken down cardboard box.

“Do you know how to put these together?” 

     A few hours later, you’ve taped up all of Scott’s boxes, and then packed most of them while he gets distracted by every little memory he finds in his room. You take several breaks to look at old pictures, but for the most part, you keep him on track. 

“You think you’ll let Connor spend the night at my place if he wants?” Scott asks as he packs a box. 

“Sure,” you reply, “He’s in that separation anxiety stage where he won’t admit it, but it happens. He’ll commit to spending the night, then wake you up at one in the morning demanding you call us. Maybe we’ll wait a bit.”

Scott laughs, “Yeah, especially with a newborn, I’d hate to put you through that.”

You smile gratefully, then hold up one of his old baseball trophies. His eyes go wide and he steps over taking it all in. He hands it back to you after a moment and lets you wrap it up, telling you he’s going to go downstairs and order lunch. 

You continue your packing, wincing at the slight pain in your stomach when you bend over. Once you stand up straight, it goes away. You find it strange, but assume it was just a wrong move, and brush it off. 

When it happens a second time, when you’re standing straight up, you freeze. 

This cannot happen now, you tell yourself. Not now, not like this. Not without him. 

“Scott,” you call, and when he doesn’t respond, you raise your voice, “Scott!”

You exit his room and go to the top of the stairs just as he reaches the bottom, his phone pressed to his ear with a confused look on his face. 

“What?” he asks, “I heard you, no mayo or–”

“I’m in labor,” you blurt.

His phone tumbles out of his hand the second his jaw drops, and you can tell solely based on that, that you’re going to have to take the lead here. Tears sting in your eyes but you shove them down, not understanding why this had to happen when Rafe isn’t here. 

“Shit,” Scott mutters, and when a noise erupts from his phone, he picks it up off the floor, “Fuck, sorry, hi, cancel that. Yeah. My sister’s in labor, so I don’t think she’s hungry.”

He looks to you for confirmation, to which you scoff and stare at him like the idiot he just might be. He just nods, walking halfway up the stairs. 

“Definitely not hungry,” he mutters into the phone, “Thanks.”

He hangs up and rushes the rest of the way up, his eyes wide and panicked as he looks at you. You focus on your breathing, hearing Rafe’s voice internally as he tells you what to do. 

Stay calm. Squeeze my hand when you feel pain. Keep breathing, in and out like we practiced. Everything’s going to be okay. 

You nod to yourself, to this internal version of Rafe, and take Scott’s hand. 

“What do I do?” he asks quickly, “I mean, take you to the hospital, obviously, but like, do you need clothes or something? I have a few tee shirts I haven’t packed–”

“Scott,” you grunt, “Just help me to the car. I need to call Rafe.”

You pull your phone from your back pocket while he nods, unlocking it and pulling up Rafe’s contact. 

“Are you gonna, like, bleed? Would you be offended if I put a towel down in the car?” he asks right as you prepare to dial. 

“What?’”

“Y/N, I just got my car detailed–”

“And I have a baby coming out of me,” you snap, “Your car will be fine. Your sister could use a little help.”

He nods, “Right. Okay. Just breathe and call Rafe.”

As much as you love and adore your brother, he has never been good in crisis. Ever. The fact that the universe stuck you with him for this moment almost makes you laugh, and you just keep talking to your internal Rafe until you can get the real version on the phone. 

Scott leads you out of the house and toward his car, cursing quietly to himself. You let out a small laugh, then press the phone to your ear and listen to it ring. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” Rafe says, “How’s packing going?”

“Rafe,” you breathe, the sound of his voice relaxing you, “It’s happening.”

He goes silent, and you can practically picture him sitting up in his chair at the Club, already plotting the fastest way out of there. 

“Holy shit,” he mutters, “Are you okay?”

You glance at Scott and he gives you an encouraging smile, which makes you nod your head. 

“I’m fine, just–” you stop, swallowing your emotions, “Hurry.”

You listen intently to Rafe’s side of the call; his chair scraping against the deck as he stands, Connor’s protest when he scoops him up without warning or explanation, his mumbled words to Topper to pay the bill and get to the hospital. 

“We’re coming, baby,” Rafe promises, “Put Scott on for me, okay?”

Scott helps you into the passenger seat of his vehicle and then runs around to the driver’s side just as you put the phone on speaker and tell him Rafe wants to talk to him. Scott starts the car and backs out, eventually calling out a response to Rafe. 

“What up, Cam?” 

You can hear Rafe as he puts Connor into his car seat, remaining patient although you’re sure he’s an anxious mess right now. Various I know, buddy’s and We’re going to see Mommy, but I need you to listen’s heard. 

“Scott,” Rafe breathes, and you hear his driver’s side door close, “What route are you taking?”

You have been focusing on your breathing and remaining calm, the pain bearable enough that you can handle it. However, this question makes you laugh, but you keep it silent for Rafe’s sake. 

“Dude, I have it under control,” Scott groans, “Relax. You don’t have to micromanage–”

“The birth of my child?” Rafe argues, “I swear, bro, if anything goes wrong–”

“Would you just–”

“I need you to keep her calm and get her there as fast as–”

“Do you think I don’t know how to handle my sister?”

“Your sister doesn’t need to be handled,” Rafe snaps, “She needs to be taken care of. Now, what route are you taking?”

You bite down on your lip to hide a smile, and when Scott catches sight of you, he rolls his eyes. He tells Rafe the way he’s planning to go, listening to the disapproving silence on the other end. Eventually, Rafe sighs. 

“I’m ten minutes behind you. Can I hand Connor off to you when I get there, or do you have some car show to run off to?”

Rafe’s sarcasm drips through the phone, and Scott rolls his eyes once again. 

“You think I’d miss the birth of my niece?” Scott questions, “Give me the little guy. We’ll hit up the vending machines while you handle your wife.”

“Put her back on the phone before I kick your–”

“Language around the little ears, Cam,” Scott grins. 

You roll your eyes, shoving your brother’s shoulder before taking the phone off speaker and placing it back up to your ear. 

“Hi, Rafe,” you murmur, sucking in a breath afterward. 

“Hi, baby,” he coos, a far cry from his attitude a minute ago, “Tell me how you feel.”

“Hi, Mama!” Connor calls from the backseat. 

You can’t help but grin, unable to contain yourself when it comes to him. 

“Hi, handsome. How was your day with Dad and Uncle Top?”

“Good,” he calls back, “Uncle Top sucks at golf.”

“We don’t say that,” Rafe reminds him. 

“You did,” Connor grunts. 

You laugh again, and it’s almost as if you can feel Rafe relax through the phone. 

“I’m okay, Rafe, I just wish you were here,” you mumble. 

“I know, baby, I’m sorry. I’m on my way.”

You nod your head, inhaling and exhaling a few more times to fill the pain of the contraction. Rafe asks a few questions; how far the contractions are apart, if Scott really is treating you right, if you need absolutely anything before he gets there. He plans to call Topper and make him go home to get the bag Rafe had already packed for you for the hospital, which makes you smile. 

“We’re here,” you tell Rafe quietly.

Scott puts his car in park and hurries out and around, reaching for your hand to help you. 

“I’ll be there soon, sweetheart. I love you so much,” Rafe promises. 

“I love you, too,” you reply. 

Scott kindly takes your phone from your hand and leads you into the hospital, letting you squeeze his hand however hard you need to with no complaints. This is it, you say to yourself, placing a hand on your stomach and rubbing up and down, urging this sweet baby girl to come out and meet the world. 

     Since her birth, Josie Elizabeth Cameron has spent only mere minutes away from her father – who was reluctant to give her up in the first place. Watching Rafe with her immediately becomes one of your favorite things because he’d been the same when Connor was first born. Unwilling to separate, checking on them with every little noise, staring down at their little faces as if his entire world fits right there. You’re sure it does. 

Since her arrival to the house, Rafe has lived and breathed for her. You love him for it; feeling him drag himself out of bed every single time she cries during the night. As he did when Connor was born, he takes a week off to help everyone in the house adjust. Which is how you find yourself walking across the house to the nursery, slightly concerned with how long it’s taken Rafe to come back to bed. Just before you reach the threshold to her room, you hear Rafe’s soft and gentle voice from inside. 

“You believe that, princess?” he asks her, waiting almost an entire minute before he adds, “I can’t believe it either. Your pretty Mama wants to spend the rest of her life with me. And you. And Connor. I never thought I’d love someone as much as I love her. Then, your brother was born, and now you, Jo. My beautiful baby girl. My fussy baby girl. I’ll give you anything you want, baby. You just gotta sleep for me. Can you do that?”

You smile to yourself, willing your eyes not to fill with water as you stand outside Josie’s bedroom, listening as Rafe ever so quietly rises from the rocking chair and places her back into her crib. You step back from the door as he exits, not taking his eyes off of her until he finally turns to walk away. When his eyes meet you, standing one foot back in your pajama shorts and his old Academy tee shirt, his eyes fill with admiration and his grin takes up his whole face. 

“Sweetheart,” he teases, “What are you doing up?”

You don’t respond verbally – you can’t – given that you’re too busy feeling every single emotion in your chest. Even at four in the morning, Rafe looks effortlessly handsome with his hair sticking up every which way, courtesy of your fingers combing through it when the two of you initially got in bed. 

Instead, you stick your bottom lip out in a pout, shoving yourself into his chest and listening to him laugh lightly as you do so. He holds you close, but does so gently, knowing you’re still recovering. 

“You okay?” he asks.

“Mhm,” you hum, “You’re such a good dad, Rafe. I feel so lucky to have you–”

“Baby,” he pulls you back, gripping your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, “Trust me. Between the two of us, I’m most definitely the lucky one. Come on, you need your rest.”

Guiding you down the hall by your hips, Rafe follows you back to your shared bedroom. Right as the two of you pass the stairs, you hear the loud whisper of your favorite three-year old, trying to be as quiet as possible knowing his sister is sleeping. 

“Daddy,” Connor hisses, “Is Josie okay?”

You and Rafe both turn to face him, smiling up at him standing at the top of the stairs in his fire truck pajamas. He’s clutching Blue by the neck, his eyes wide as he waits on an answer. 

“She’s perfect, buddy. What are you doing up?” Rafe asks him. 

Connor starts his descent down the stairs, gripping the poles of the railing like Rafe had told him to do so many times as he takes each step one by one. 

“I wanted Mama,” Connor replies simply. 

You grin and step forward, picking him up off the stairs as soon as he’s close enough. His legs wrap around your waist and he immediately cuddles into you, making you and Rafe smile. 

“I’m here, buddy,” you promise him. 

“Can I sleep in your bed?”

You look up at Rafe, exchanging words silently even though you both know you’re going to let him. Despite his exhaustion and yours, Rafe still smiles, placing his hands on your hips. 

“Come on,” he says quietly, “We all need our rest.”

     Maddie calls you two days later, telling you that she and Kelce are taking Noah for a ride in the car and they’d like to come by to visit and see Josie. Connor practically jumps up when the doorbell rings, desperate to see his other new friend to play with. Rafe and Connor both go to the door, greeting Kelce’s little family and guiding them inside. 

You have Josie nuzzled into your chest, cooing softly. Maddie grins widely when she sees the two of you, hurrying over and gesturing as if to silently ask to hold her. You nod and hand Josie off, watching her settle into Maddie’s grip. 

“Hi, sweet girl,” Maddie whispers, “You’re so precious.”

“She’s beautiful, Cameron,” Kelce agrees, nudging Rafe’s chest. 

“Thanks, man,” Rafe grins, eyeing Josie even as he holds Noah in his arms. 

“Hey, who knows? Family friends falling in love? You might be holding your son-in-law,” Kelce teases. 

You look up at Rafe and grin, but his face falls. His eyes slowly narrow in Kelce’s direction, but he remains steady bouncing Noah up and down. 

“I love this kid,” Rafe starts, “But if he ever puts one finger on my daughter, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kelce waves him off, stepping closer to Maddie, “Noah and Josie are getting married for sure.”

“Baby,” Rafe whines, bringing Noah over to you, “She’s a month old and I’ve already lost her?”

“Of course not, Rafe. She’s always going to need her dad,” you reply sweetly, stealing Noah from him. 

He clenches his jaw and glares at Kelce, earning a chuckle from him. Connor crawls up on Rafe’s lap to see Noah, and when you look over at him, you smile. He’s grinning widely as he observes the sleepy boy, and even though Connor wants to play, he quietly resides to watch the babies. 

When Josie falls asleep in Maddie’s arms, you suggest putting both babies in Josie’s pack ‘n play to sleep. With Maddie’s help, both babies seamlessly transition into the new space without being woken up. Both of them stir as they adjust, and when their hands fall right next to each other, you cover your mouth to keep from exploding with the cuteness. 

“Rafe, come look,” you whisper, gesturing him over.

Rafe stands and walks over to you, placing his hand on your hip as he leans over to look. His eyes melt at the sight of his baby girl cooing softly with her eyes closed, trying her best to go back to sleep. 

“Aw, look at them, Cameron,” Kelce teases over Maddie’s shoulder, “You’re paying for the wedding.”

“One finger, Kelceo,” Rafe warns quietly, “That kid will be–”

“Rafe,” you stop him, “They’re babies.”

Rafe just cuddles himself even closer to you, pressing his lips against your neck. You fall back into him, almost completely relaxed, when Connor comes over to the pack ‘n play and starts trying to lift himself over to get inside. 

“Whoa,” Rafe stops him, scooping him up, ”What’s up?”

“Wanted to hang out with the babies,” Connor pouts, “Everyone’s lookin’ at them.”

You pout and press a loving kiss to his cheek, “Sorry, handsome.”

“Yeah, sorry, buddy,” Kelce chimes in, “You wanna go outside and throw your football around?”

Connor beams in his father’s arms, looking down at him expectantly and asking if he’ll play, too. 

“Do you know where your football is?” Rafe asks. 

Connor nods, “Yes. I’ll go get it.”

He rushes off to grab it and returns quickly, grabbing Kelce by the hand and demanding for his father to follow. Rafe presses his lips to your cheek, then takes one final look at Josie, before escaping into the backyard with the boys. 

You and Maddie decide to both stay inside with the babies; sitting on the couch and chatting about the boys, then the babies, and eventually settling on trying to line up all of your pregnancies with one another so you can do this every time. Maddie cracks up at the idea of saying that to Kelce, claiming that he would say Rafe wants to have too many babies for that to actually happen. 

After a bit, you rise to get both of you something to eat and drink, and when you return, you find Rafe standing over the pac ‘n play, gently removing Josie without disturbing Noah. 

“I thought you were outside,” you say to him. 

He spins and gives you a sheepish smile, then looks back down at Josie, who stirs in his arms. 

“I was, I just–” he stops and shrugs shyly at you, making you shake your head.

“Aw,” Maddie sings from the couch, “He missed his baby girl. That’s so cute, Cameron–”

“Enough,” Rafe grunts, “You’re just like your husband.”

“Thank you.”

You laugh and sit down beside Maddie again, letting Rafe bounce Josie in his arms while the two of you have a snack. When Josie starts to cry, Rafe presses gentle kisses to her cheeks. 

“I’ve got you, princess. No fussing, okay?” he whispers. 

“Wow,” Maddie whispers to you, “I thought he was whipped with you.”

“Shut it,” you laugh, playfully rolling your eyes while she snickers. 

Rafe walks over to the couch and sits down gently beside you, doing his best not to wake Josie. He places her on his chest and rubs her back while she snoozes, then sets his free hand on your thigh. 

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, “We gotta do something about little man. He’s feeling pretty left out right now.”

“Did he say something out there?” you ask.

“Not really,” Rafe shakes his head, “Just a feeling I get with him.”

You place your hand on top of Rafe’s and link your fingers through his, giving him a small, sad smile. 

“We’ll handle it,” you murmur. 

He leans over to kiss your forehead, “We always do.”

     Maddie and Kelce take Noah home when he starts to get fussy, which in turn makes Josie fussy. Rafe, ever so comforting, lays down on the couch with her after she’s been fed and lets her lay on his chest while he browses the TV, leaving you available to talk to Connor. 

He’s just finished eating his dinner and opted to color at the dining room table, and when you wander in, he smiles. 

“Are you doing okay, buddy?” you ask him. 

“Yeah,” he replies simply, keeping his eyes on his paper. 

“Do you mind if I sit?”

He shakes his head in response, so you pull out the chair beside him and sit down. Slowly, he slides his drawing to you; an unfinished picture of the four of you. Rafe is holding Josie, and you’re holding Connor’s hand. He’d also drawn what you assume is the house in the background, complete with the grass and flowers, but he hasn’t finished the sky yet. 

“This is fantastic, Connor,” you grin, “Can I put it on the fridge when you’re done?”

He nods, “Sure. I’ll sign it.”

“Good idea,” you smile, sliding the paper back to him, “So, I was thinking. What if me, you, and Daddy spent the whole day together tomorrow?”

His eyes flicker up to you immediately, but he keeps his face straight. His crayon pauses over the sheet as he stares, trying to figure things out in his head. 

“What about Josie?”

“She’s gonna stay with grandma and grandpa while we’re out. I feel like we haven’t spent a lot of time with just you since Josie came around, and I’m sorry,” you say, reaching up and brushing your hand through his hair before you can help yourself. 

He smiles softly, “It’s okay, Mama.”

You bite down on your lip, hesitant to ask him, but the thought of him keeping those feelings in only encourages you to continue. 

“Is it really?”

Slowly, Connor sets down his crayon, and when he looks up at you, you know your instincts were right. His eyes are saucers; beading into yours with every emotion he’s held in for the last month. 

“I just miss you and Daddy,” he confesses, “Josie takes up a lot of time.”

You nod to affirm his feelings, and when he holds his hand out, you waste no time pulling him into your lap. 

“I know she does, bub. I’m sorry for that. But you know you can come talk to me and Daddy about anything, right? We’re never too busy when it comes to you.”

He nods, “I know. Could we go get ice cream tomorrow?”

You laugh and adjust him on your lap, then reach up and brush some of his hair away from his eyes. Between his looks and his enormous heart, he reminds you more and more of Rafe every day. 

“We can do anything you want tomorrow,” you promise. 

“Hmm,” he hums, a smile making its way across his face, “I’ll have to think about it.”

“You do that,” you laugh, “Can I have a hug?”

“Yes,” he replies – approximately one second before he slams himself into your chest. 

You laugh and steady him, squeezing him tight to show him how much you love him. When he pulls back, he gives you a kiss, giggling as he does so. 

“What’s going on in here?” Rafe asks from the doorway, Josie wrapped up in his arms. 

“Can I say goodnight to Josie?” Connor asks from your lap.

Rafe nods and walks in, placing himself gently in the chair beside the two of you. He holds Josie out to Connor when he gets close enough, and both of you watch as he leans over. 

“Goodnight, Josie,” he whispers, “Can’t wait ‘til you can play with me.”

“That’s sweet, bub,” Rafe encourages, “Do you want to help me put her to bed?”

Connor nods and slides down off your lap as Rafe stands up, ready to follow his dad to Josie’s room. Rafe kisses your forehead and then leads Connor out, giving you time to breathe. 

     Connor’s bedtime is not long after, and you and Rafe both decide to tuck him in. He giggles like crazy when Rafe jumps into Connor’s little bed with him and steals his blanket, pretending as if he’s going to sleep there, too. 

“Have you thought about what you want to do tomorrow?” you ask Connor, combing his hair out of his face as he lays. 

“Yes,” Connor replies, “I want to go to the beach.”

“Oh yeah?” Rafe raises a brow, to which Connor nods. 

“The beach it is,” you declare. 

Connor smiles and then sits up for goodnight kisses. Once he’s satisfied, he lays back down and lets Rafe tuck him back under his blanket, both of you standing up. Rafe’s arm wraps around your waist as you both move to the door, reminding Connor that you love him.

Rafe closes his door softly and then leans down, wasting no time and pressing his lips into your neck. 

“Baby,” he mumbles against your skin, “Can I fuck you?”

You laugh, your hands tangling in his as you lead him down the stairs and to your room. Once you reach the floor, he grabs ahold of your hips and sets your back against the wall, pinning you in. 

“Such a gentleman,” you tease. 

He snickers and kisses up your throat, across your jaw, your cheek, and then takes his time once he reaches your mouth. 

“What if I say please?” 

He nips at your neck, causing you to gasp. You arch into him before you can help it, feeling him smirk against your skin. 

“That helps,” you reply, breathless. 

“Please let me fuck you,” he pulls back, grin forming across his mouth. 

“Well if you’re gonna beg–”

He stops you with a kiss and picks you up, guiding your legs around his waist. He keeps his lips on yours as he walks both of you into your shared bedroom, dropping you on the bed without a second thought. 

He climbs on top of you, reaching between the two of you to rid you of your shorts and panties. You giggle against his lips, letting him climb down your body – the one he’s become an expert on – kissing down your stomach and stopping right where you want him most.

The timing of Josie’s cries through the baby monitor could not be worse, and Rafe audibly swears when he hears it. You just laugh, feeling him press a kiss to the inside of your thigh before standing up.

He walks over and leans down, kissing your lips once, twice, three times, before pulling back. 

“Don’t move one fucking muscle, all right?” he demands, “Ten minutes.”

You nod and signal for another kiss, which he gives you before turning and hurrying out of your bedroom. As frustrating as the moment is for both of you, you’re well aware that neither of you would change any of this for the world, no matter what.

Tags: @witchwyfe @lurkymurker @ghostselena @goldenjo @storytellingwitht @scenesofobx @itsalexwin @onmykneesforrafe @valeriiecameron @lovedetlost @mardema @girlsneedloovee @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @malums-trash-can @emotionalbruv @parkerreidnorth @rafecameronswhore @wanniiieeee @sarahwasfound @lilgoddesshines @abrunettefangirlnerd @absolute-fcking-chaos @jordynsharum @premixed-margarita @anonymousobxfan @samcaniglia @thisisthewayrose @iammirrorball @r0und3bitch @thesimpletype @notdisneychannel @gillybear17 @solllaris @i-is-for-inspiring @sksliz @luversgirl @maybankxw @mattyskies @booktalks @elizabethrosecresswell @zdrewrrys

#rafe obx #rafe cameron #rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe x y/n #rafe outer banks #rafe x oc #rafe x you #rafe x reader #ambivalence #outerbanks netflix #outerbanks #outer banks #outer banks netflix #rafe cameron x you #outerbanks rafe

[minaramen]

Idol Star 2023 - Prince Stage: Touma Inumaru

[Disclaimer: I’m NOT a professional translator. I’m using my knowledge from 4 years of university. Please, feel free to let me know if you notice  mistranslation/typo/error of any kind]      

***

Touma: Hey!

Touma: So we're gonna meet at 12 today, right?

Minami: 

Minami: Aren't you confusing me with somebody else?

Touma: Mh?

Touma: Did I message the wrong person?

Minami: Who knows. I'm me.

Touma: I double checked the icon AND the home screen! I'm not wrong!

Touma: You’re my fellow ŹOOĻ member Natsume Minami, aren't you!?

Minami: Yes. I'm the versatile Natsume Minami: both your friend from ŹOOĻ and composer 

Touma: That’s enough, thank you, I didn't need so many details!

Touma: Being hacked on SNS is possible, y'know, and I was panicking that I had messaged the wrong person!

Minami: You were just in too much of a hurry, I think

Touma: 

Touma: We were supposed to go out for a meal today, right? 

Minami: Actually, no

Minami: I don’t know whether you’re mistaking me for somebody else, but I suppose things work differently for those who keep many people around 

Touma: Wait, I’ve never had many people around, actually! We decided to go to the diner together, didn’t we? The one where they make delicious stamina rice bowls! 

Minami: Are you possibly referring to the plans we had for tomorrow? 

Touma: Uh

Touma: Are you for real 

Touma: I'm sure it was today..

Minami: I thought we were supposed to go tomorrow after you finish filming for Idol Star 

Touma: Ah, yes, yes... you're right. I totally blew it 

Touma: Today they give you an extra fried chicken portion for free, I thought you'd be happy to go...

Minami: In other words since you knew I'd been happy to go you got over excited and made the mistake 

Touma: Uh?

Minami: What happened, then?

Touma: No, I mean, that's probably how it went 

Touma: I'm sorry Mina. I'll ask somebody else!

Minami: Wait. Don't give me the "that's probably how it went" speech. Explain to me exactly what happened 

Touma: Uh? Well...

Touma: I was like "Oh, cool, today they give an extra fried chicken portion for free! Mina will be over the moon with joy!"; I got over excited and somehow made a mess with the day

Minami: I see. I understand now 

Minami: Who are you going to invite?

Touma: Ah, it's a guy you don't know, Mina! A friend from my hometown 

Minami: But I'm your friend as well, right?

Touma: 

Touma: It’s pretty embarrassing to talk about that directly, but yeah, you definitely are! What about it? 

Minami: Nothing

Minami: Where are you now?

Touma: I've just finished the recordings, so I'm still at the studio!

Minami: It’s perfect, then. I happened to work close to there today, so let’s meet somewhere and go 

Touma: Really?? Is it okay with you??

Touma: Let’s go together!! Fried chicken is delicious, so I wanted you to eat lots of it!

Touma: Wow, I feel so happy! Thank you, Mina! It was sudden but you're still coming!

Minami: 

Minami: By the way, is it okay with you if I ask Isumi san as well? Apparently, he's nearby as well 

Minami: 

Touma: Ooh! Great! I'm gonna ask Tora, then! Apparently he got into restaurants' daily specials, lately

Minami: I'll go and meet Isumi san first, then 

Touma: Mina!

Touma: We're still having the meal together tomorrow, right?

Minami: That’s the plan, yes. Are you busy?

Touma: No, I was just wondering if it was fine with you to go eat with me for two days in a row 

Minami: If you don't mind...

Touma: Thank you!! Of course I don’t mind, I'm super happy! Watching you eat is quite a thing, Mina, I have so much fun every time 😄

Minami: I’m glad to hear that. What do you think about a change of plans tomorrow? I'd like to take you to a restaurant I really like

Minami: You can eat delicious meat for one coin

Touma: Meat? Amazing! If you're a regular customer, Mina, it must be delicious 🤤

Touma: Since we're all working at the same location tomorrow, let's ask Haru and Tora as well

Minami: Yes

Touma: Okay, once Tora answers back I'll let you know the meeting place 

Touma: 

Minami: 

The end

#touma inumaru #zool #Idolish7 #idolish7translation

[finallydelight]

Hoax | Ming Chapter

January 18, 2023

''Yeah, I just got back from schedules.'' Seungkwan sighed over the phone to Jungwoo, content to be at the dorm again after a hectic day.

The NCT member chuckled, his day only starting. ''Well, my rehearsals are starting in like a few minutes, so wish me luck.'' All the members and staff were already spread on the stage, getting everything ready to start their small run through of the show.

''Timezones are weird, man.'' Seungkwan noted, taking a sip from his water bottle.

Jungwoo groaned. ''I know,'' he glanced around before remembering something, ''hey, there is this new restaurant not far from Han River that I would like to go to, it opened not too long ago.''

''The one with like food from all kinds of different cultures?''

''Yeah, that one!''

''Yerimie went to that one on the opening night, her friend knows someone there,'' The SVT member realized his younger member was saying something about this new place, ''let me ask her about it.''

Seungkwan looked over at Chan who just entered the kitchen. ''Dino-ya, do you know where Yerim is?'' He asked, still holding his phone up to his ear.

The maknae pointed his head towards the hallway. ''She's on a date with Yeonjun.'' He answered in an uninterested tone as he grabbed something from the fridge.

''Oooh~ my little sister has a boyfriend.'' Seungkwan sang, to no one in particular. ''Hey, Jungwoo-ah, I'll get Ming's friend, Soomin, to get us a nice table.'' He went back to his original conversation.

''That's nice, uh, my rehearsals are starting, so I gotta go.'' Jungwoo told him, the words coming out in stutters.

The man on the other line was confused by the sudden voice change. ''Alright- you okay, Woo?''

''Yes, just tired from the traveling, I'll talk to you later.''

''Great, bye!''

The call ended, and Jungwoo's eyes automatically went to his younger friend who was in a deep conversation with Johnny while stretching his legs. Mark must have noticed as he confusingly stared back at him. The 98-liner called him over with a wave of his hand.

The Canadian slowly made his way over to him. ''Hey, what's up?''

Jungwoo took a deep breath before speaking. ''Are you still talking with Ming? Like are you two still seeing each other?'' He asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

''Yeah, I mean with the tour and different time zones and everything, the responses are quite slow, but yeah, we're still talking.'' Mark answered, frowning. ''Why, hyung?''

Mark's reply saddened him, he had kinda hoped for a different one. ''I just got off the phone with Seungkwan, and I asked after this certain restaurant, and he told me Ming had been there before- this is not relevant.'' He shook his head, realizing he was rambling on.

''Long story short, he asked, uh, Dino? I think it was Dino, if he knew where Yerim was and he said that she was on a date with Yeonjun? The guy from TXT, the Inkigayo MC.'' The look on Mark's face broke his heart, but he continued. ''And Seungkwan said something about him being her boyfriend.''

The younger man just stared at the ground, deep in thought about what he was just told. He didn't understand it, she had never said anything about having a boyfriend or anything about Yeonjun for that matter. Had he been gone that long that she started seeing someone else?

''You okay, Mark?'' Doyoung had joined them upon seeing Mark's troubled expression. He looked at his older member, but no words came out of his mouth.

Jungwoo answered instead. ''Yerim has a boyfriend.''

His words had caught the attention of the other members close by, who gathered around the youngest one. ''Wait, what?'' ''Are you serious?'' Yuta immediately put his arms around Mark, wanting to provide some sort of comfort.

''Her members said it themselves on the phone.'' Jungwoo confirmed to them, wiggling his phone in the air.

The rest of the guys were shocked and disappointed. They had seen how happy Mark got every time he would come back from one of their dates or any time he just talked about her.

''That's such a bitch move!''

''Yuta, don't.'' Taeyong scolded him, cursing people out wasn't the right thing to do at that moment and especially not in front of Mark.

Johnny patted his shoulder. ''Do you know what you're gonna do?''

Mark shook his head. ''No, but let's get on with rehearsals- we don't want to waste time.'' He turned around and walked to the center of the stage where the stage director was waiting for them. The members all glanced at each other, but swiftly followed him.

''Should I call Soonyoung?'' Doyoung asked Jungwoo, who seemed firmly against it. ''No, I don't think we should be meddling too much, let Mark handle it.''

During the run-through, their focus was simply on doing all the songs and making sure the stage, lights, mics, etc. were fine. Mark was handling it like a professional, putting the situation in the back of his mind and not letting it affect his rehearsal time. Yet, it was him who sat down next to Taeyong, asking for some advice.

''I don't really know what I should do, hyung.'' He admitted, his eyes darting between the leader and the ground.

Taeyong sighed, also not too sure on what the best step was. ''Maybe just send her a text saying you two shouldn't talk for a while or something, because if she does have boyfriend, I don't think he would appreciate you trying to pursue his girlfriend.'' He answered, while still monitoring the other members.

''Yeah, maybe- yeah, I'll send something later.'' Mark's mind immediately thought of all the things he could possibly say to her. Does he apologize? Does he get angry? He doesn't know.

The leader next to him caressed his hair. ''It's gonna be okay, Mark. Just put all your frustrations and thoughts in the performances.''

A few hours later when the run-through was done, Mark grabbed his phone and went to a more secluded area, so no one could see or hear him. He had been pondering on what he was going to send her and he had finally found the right words.

He decided to send her a voice message. It was already deep in the night in Seoul, so calling didn't seem like the right choice.

''Hey, uh, I just wanted to let you know that I don't think we should talk to each other anymore. There's just a lot going on right now and I think it's for the best. I do want to apologize if I said or did something that made you believe you couldn't tell me you already had someone else. It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable. I don't blame you for anything, if you're happy with him, that- that's all I care about. Uh, anyway, I wish you and your members all the best, and, uh, yeah, I'm just- I'm sorry, Yer- uh, Yerim. Goodbye.''

Taglist: @seolboba @cosmicwintr @mythicalamphitrite @billboard-singer @stopeatread @still-astray @sakuurra @multiplums @giverosespls @seongwhaffels @kimhyejin3108 @smoooore @smh-anon @cixrosie @allthings-fandoms

#ming.svt #kpop oc #kpop au #kpop addition #14th member of seventeen #seventeen 14th member #seventeen female member #seventeen female addition #seventeen addition #mark lee x oc #seventeen added member #seventeen x oc #seventeen oc #seventeen female added member #seventeen female oc

[justhere4kpop]

Dude, I Love Fishing

A few days off between comeback stages and your boyfriend wants to go fishing, he's pretty lucky you love him.

pair: Yunho x Reader

w/c: 1.3k

a/n: Just another fluffy Yunho one-shot, also the number of times I accidentally deleted this post while editing is embarrassing, anyways I hope you guys enjoy it!!! Any feedback is appreciated, and any interactions are welcomed and loved! Also ironically the use of a Seventeen song has no correlation with my recent dive into them. Also I definitely did not take or make any of the photos just used them for the header....that I did make....Okay enjoy!!!

tags: @yunbug, @starillusion13

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Comeback season was rough, between recording, rehearsals, outfits and fittings, photoshoots, stage testing, and shooting music videos, promos, teasers, and doing interviews…you could say it’s a full time job. Yeah, comeback season was rough, Comeback season for Ateez? Never stops, with the boys getting bigger and better every comeback it was hard to get them to sit still for even a moment, not that they would, it’s like babysitting hyperactive 3 year olds who just got told it was nap time but they “don’t need a nap they can stay up forever.” but probably less spit and more “you’re not the boss of me.”

“Wooyoung in this moment I very much AM the boss of you.” I groaned trying to get him to stop so I could hear the directions the GPS was taking us. “Do you want to get lost?!”

“We’re in Seoul! We can’t possibly get lost!” he threw his hands up in the air.

“And you know Seoul well enough that if I turn off this GPS you can get us there On Time?” I raised my eyebrow and he looked out the window. “That’s what I thought.”

“I can-!” he started

“Wooyoung-ah, please don’t torture my poor girl, I do that enough at home.” Yunho spoke up from the middle row.

“EWWWW!” came a chorus of voices.

“Not like that!!!!” he waved his hands in front of his face.

“Even I knew that one was coming Yu.” I sighed now on the receiving end of questions of my personal life.

His torture by the way is the sweaty hugs after dance practice before he showers because he just can’t wait that long to hug me, the way he lays on top of me while watching tv or a movie and I mean FULL BODY WEIGHT almost like that scene from Disney’s Lilo and Stitch where Nani goes “Oh no gravity is increasing on me!” only he does it because it’s “much more comfortable”, the endless times he’s had me read the Spider Man comics to him because he likes the character voices I make, not to mention we’ve seen every version a few times. He’s decided to cook dinner a few times only he’s wanted to experiment and try things without a recipe, which is fine, but it’s always stuff he’s never tried making before, last time he mixed up sugar and salt….again….Yeah, I would say he puts me through a few trials at home….I wouldn’t change them, in fact I kind of miss it when he’s away on tour and I’m stuck back home. 

“y/n!?” Yunho called out from the kitchen. Here comes the soup popsicles again…

“Yeah?” I sighed and put down my book.

“We should take a trip!” he announced coming into the room. “Why are you closing your eyes with your hand out?”

“Huh? Oh uh….nothing. A trip? What kind?”

“Let’s go to the lake! We can go fishing! Bring the guys along and everything!”

“Fishing? Yunho you know I don’t like fishing, it’s…hard (weird)”

“Oh come on Jagiya, pleaseeeee, it’ll be like a beach trip or something, water, swimsuits, picnic!”

I sighed. “Fine.”

It was in fact, NOT like the beach, I’m covered head to toe in waterproof clothing, the most shapeless pair of waterproof overalls or waders, wellingtons, a vest with way too mant pockets, a floppy hat, and a waterproof shirt…oh and a life vest.

“You look beautiful” he smiled, I took a photo as he put on his life vest.

“You look ridiculous.” I chuckled at his outfit, it was normal…save for the Spider-man life jacket that was too small…

~~~~

“Yunho that’s for kids…” I said as we browsed our local Department Store.

“Nuh uh!!” he shook his head and smiled. “It says 5 plus y/n! I’m plus! I’m over 5!”

“I’m starting to doubt that.” I mumbled as I put it in the cart.

“Aw no way!!! Jagiya!” he called from behind me.

I turned and nearly fell over laughing, he found a pair of wayyyy too small goggles as well, he looked like one of those watermelons with rubber bands stretched around it until they burst.

“Yu, you’re gonna hurt yourself if you get those.” I snorted…never did that in my last relationship. 

~~~~~

“Well good thing I don’t have to impress anyone then hmm?” he gave me that face. “Come on I’ll catch the best fish for us to eat tonight.”

“We could’ve just gone to the store.”

“But this way it’s a date.”

“Grocery shopping is a date.”

“Okay fine you got me there.” he smiled. “But it’s nice to get some fresh air during comeback season!”

“Yu….it smells like mud…”

“Earth! I love it!” he smiled. “Come on I figure we can try the boat first.”

How did I let him talk me into this?

“Yunho?”

“Hmm?” he turned towards me.

“How much longer are we going to be out here?” I looked at him. “We’ve been out here for hours already.”

“Until you catch one too.”

“I’m fine not catching one.” I chuckled. He’s caught 5…who knew he was so good at it.

“Maybe if you don’t catch one in an hour.”

“Okay, fair enough.”

We waited…he started humming….it sounds kind of familiar.

“생각처럼 쉬운 게 없네요

매일 생각해요 난 어떻게 해야 할지

도착했다 싶을 때, 다시 시작이네요

앞이 깜깜할 때도” Yunho hummed softly.

“Whatcha singing?” I looked at him.

“Just something stuck in my head.” he smiled. 

“소용돌이치는 하루 속에

사소한 행복을 나에게 줘서

비어 있는 내 두 손에

세상의 모든 미소를 쥐여줘서”

“Seventeen?” I raised an eyebrow as he got louder.

He started swaying a little.

“Yunho be careful, you’re rocking the boat.” I looked at him….it was too late.

“소용돌이치는 하루 속에

사소한 행복을 나에게 줘서

비어 있는 내 두 손에

세상의 모든 미소를 쥐여줘서

가파른 길에 숨이 찰 때도

추운 날 길 잃은 때도

따듯한 온기와 함께 손을 내밀어주는!!!” he exclaimed standing up and what do you know the boat tipped over. “YUNHO!”

I broke the surface of the water.

“You owe me a new phone.” I looked at him after we swam back to the shore with the boat.

“Gladly.” he smiled and wrapped a towel around me still humming.

“You’re lucky I love you.” I huffed.

“I’m very lucky indeed.” he kissed my cheek but grimaced at the taste left on his lips.

“Yeah let me guess I taste how the lake smells?”

“No no just a piece of algae in my mouth…”

“I don’t believe you.” I sighed and we made our way to go get cleaned up and the boathouse.

“You know what they say, shower together and save water.”

“Are you seriously horny after tipping the boat over into a fish pond…and there’s mud in my hair?”

“What can I say…the mud really adds texture.” he chuckled.

“New phone and a new boyfriend.” I nudged him.

“Awwwwww come on.”

After I took my shower…alone. We sat on the deck to eat the lunch/dinner we brought along. I didn’t catch a single fish, I got knocked out of the boat and I lost my phone….

“You didn’t catch a fish but you caught one thing?”

“....yeah?” I looked at him knowing it was going to be bad.

“This boot!” he held up the waterlogged boot I got before he knocked us over dancing.

“I totally thought you were going to say ‘My Heart’” I laughed a little.

“Nah, you caught that a long time ago.” he smiled and pushed my wet hair behind my ear.

“You’re so annoying Jeong Yunho.”

“And you are the light of my life l/n f/n……D.I.L.F” he spelled out.

I spit. “What!?”

“Dude I Love Fishing!” he smiled and looked at me.

“Yunho! That’s not what that means!!!!” I laughed and hit his arm.

As we walked back to the car Yunho held up the boot again.

“Should we-”

“No we are not keeping the boot.” I chuckled. “We can get matching phone cases this time.”

“Well I am keeping you, so I guess I win.” he smiled. “Can I pick out the phone case?”

“Fine…you win.”

I am never going fishing again.

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #my writing #yunho x reader #ateez fic #dude i love fishing #my writings #my blog #me #yunho #this took me an embarrassingly long time to post because I deleted it 3 times #also Yunho posting as I tried also posting #it was a sign.....probably a sign I need to go to bed.

[obriengf]

“not okay” thoughts??????

SPOILER FILLED omg please do not proceed unless you have watched this brilliant film thanks x

mia isaac - the STANDOUT for me for the entire runtime

like ya’ll i’m a dylan girl thru and thru, and gorgeous zoey is the main star of this movie

but mia

ya’ll don’t sleep on mia isaac

i know the proper reviews have agreed with me, she is absolutely brilliant and powerful and and empowering, every scene was so strong and she deserves all the praise, all the awards, hands down

her character’s story where it related to real life events.. her trauma was so heartbreaking, and the ptsd scene on the stage really truly got to me and i honestly started tearing up. that was a full panic attack... i’ve lived through many, and it was captured so upsettingly well. mia conveys emotion so so well and i hope you love her as much as i did. 

AND DUDE ----- THE LAST SCENE OF THE MOVIE WITH MIA WAS AHHHHHHHHHHHH MY FAVE PART OF THE WHOLE THIINNG

now...  zoey, wow, her characterisation was SPOT ON

she just gulped up that fame, actual fame whore 

like i hated her but i loved her and but at the same time i was holding my breath for her white lie to be unfolded 

and PHEW it was nuts

“shit gon be nuts” - dylan o’brien, 2022, twitter.

zoey is a phenomenal actress, she can play all sorts of dimensions, but danni was just something else, in a very good way 

she was a crafty lil bitch and i give her kudos, to an extent, and then yes she deserved to be #cancelled over and over again, never coming back from that one 

i was shaking my head at her the whole time like..... honey you’re making it so obvi that you are not traumatised. you just want those likes, you just want that @WEEDBOIIICOLIN so bad.

also SHOUT OUT to the nightmares she was having, and her own personal haunting trauma with the green coat guy. i loved that continuity and how it built her guilt over and over again.

especially with the reveal.. i saw it coming at the last second, but was still surprised when you saw who it really was that was haunting her.

her hampster tho being the soul reason for her lie, giving her the idea, that was iconic. you go hamster. they also had similar hair??? 

her style was wild, very tik tok, very ‘on trend’ thank you quinn for crafting this crazy girl 

zoey you need to be given like 150 gold stars right now, girl. 

now................

dylan.

fuck me.

from the GET GO, from his first words, i was like............. here we go.

“lick the tit” yeah bro, straight off the bat

the little pet name ‘honey’ also got to me

ah DUDE THE WARDROBE DEPARTMENT FOR COLIN WAS HILARIOUS, his last outfit that you see him in, when he walks out of the elevator, i loved it so much i took a photo because i giggled

the was dylan put on that shit talker voice was also so well done, the vernacular he sattired was perfect

everything he said was legit comic relief 

he made it funny with her stupid he was, honestly 

and you could 100% tell that he was doing it to make fun

he better have enjoyed this role because i bloody well did

ANYWAY

DYLAN O’BRIEN’S FUCKING MOANING WILL LIVE IN MY HEAD RENT FREE FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE AND I NEED IT ON ACTUAL FUCKIGN REPLAY RIGHT NOW THIS IS NOT A DRILL

his ****** game is also STRONG 

seriously, THAT scene, you’ll know it, in the bathroom

it doesn’t last long but it was literally the set up for every dylan smut scene in fan fic okay 

HIS WORDING WOOWWOWOWOWEVNBKJGE]

I AM STILL DEEEAASDDDDDDDD

ask @ slutobrien because i was messaging her the whole time and i was going craazzyyyyy

my fave is “youre so tight” 

fuck thats dylan fan fic

in a good way.. a very, very, good way 

he also says that he’ll protect her in a very sensual way and yes i believed it i still do i also need it RIGHT NOW.

but yes okay, thank you quinn once again for choosing this god of a man to portray this idiot of a man 

other things i super loved: - the running jokes with kendall jenner loooool - quinn’s cameo!!!!!!!!!!! i squealed, like a lil piggy - the cinematography?!!?!!??! so good  - the support group hanging out together was too cute for words  - special shout out to NADIA for her portrayal of harper!!!!! the villain (?) that we really needed ((((( but like was danni really the villain the whole time and was harper the hero??? hmmmm????)))))) - still love mia isaac - MY 2ND FAVE PART THOOO ,....... OMGG... was when colin said some weird shit and harper was like “you’re from maine” and dylan puts his real voice on for a short moment since colin gets called out for his fakeness HAHAHA too good

Overall, NOT OKAY was a very good, eye-opening, funny film. It really makes you look at the craziness and toxicity that social media carries. It shows you how it can change people, literally, and the lengths they will go to to get those extra followers or those extra likes. Social media can be so dangerous. Watching Mia’s character get absolutely shit over for having a ptsd panic attack, saying she was being a fake victim.. that’s real, unfortunately. It happens so often. Dylan and Zoey have only recently done interviews where they explain that the truth is sometimes never believed, that the lies circulating gets the better of them and puts out negative untrue vibes. 

This movie HAD to be made. And I am so glad that Quinn did it in such a captivating way. 

But I think that there is also another important point made from this movie......

What I have learnt is that it is indeed.. okay... to not be okay. Don’t hide if you’re in pain, because it’s very most likely that the person next to you is also not okay. 

OKAY THAT’S MY REVIEW BYE

#not okay #not okay movie #dylan o'brien #zoey deutch #mia isaac #not okay 2022 #colin not okay #DON'T HATE ME ON WHAT I SAID thanks

[tofueggnoodles]

Extreme Bath Log Disk 1 – Track 2: Genjo Family’s Morning

Click here to listen to the track on youtube.

Click here for translation of the previous track.

Summary: A (typical?) breakfast at the Genjo residence. After Goku went off to school with his friend Tokito, Hakkai assigns the day’s tasks to Gojyo, who happened to have some time off from his part-time job. Gojyo’s complaint about being made to work for free spiraled into a heated argument. He and Sanzo had different ideas on the best way to run the bathhouse business.

--------

(Sound of chopsticks clinking against bowls.)

Goku: Pass me the soy sauce from over there.

Gojyo (mumbles): Okay.

Hakkai: Gojyo! You shouldn’t hold your chopsticks in your mouth!

Gojyo: Are you my mother?

Hakkai: I’m not your mother, but I’m at least your uncle.

Goku: Come to think of it, Hakkai, where’s Ten-chan?

Hakkai: He apparently pulled an all-nighter until this morning, so it’s better not to wake him up yet.

Gojyo: I don’t really care about it, but how long are you going to keep stirring the natto, gramps? [natto: a traditional Japanese food made from soybeans fermented with Bacillus subtilis. It is popular especially as a breakfast food.]

Sanzo: If you don’t really care, then leave me be. (continues stirring the natto with his chopsticks)

Hakkai: Your breakfast is getting cold, Father.

Sanzo: The more you stir the natto, the more delicious it’ll get.

Goku: Grandma said that was a third-hand saying from the old man who lived at the North Main Street. **

Sanzo: That was an uncalled-for remark, Goku.

Hakkai: Speaking of Mother, it’ll soon be the thirteenth anniversary of her passing, isn’t it? What should we do, Father?

Sanzo: I leave it in your hands.

Hakkai: Then, I’ll make the arrangements with the monks at the temple. As for the rest... I hope I’ll be able to get in touch with my brothers-in-law.

Gojyo: Brothers-in-law... don’t tell me you’re inviting Nobu-nii as well?

Hakkai: It’s a matter of course, isn’t it? He’s the son of the deceased, after all.

Goku: Why do you seem reluctant to have him back, Gojyo? You’ve always been on good terms with Nobu-nii from back in the day.

Gojyo: That’s true, but whenever that guy comes home, he’ll make me join him in mahjong and drinking sessions and procure all sorts of risky side jobs for me every day and every night. I’ll be in for a pretty wretched time.

Sanzo: Hmmph. A case of one delinquent disliking another.

Hakkai: The delinquents in question happen to be your son and your grandson, Father. As for your other son – if I’m not mistaken, he’s in the middle of a trip.

Goku: If it’s dad, even if you don’t get in touch with him, he’ll still worry about returning on time.

Sanzo: He’s a man who’s conscientious to the point of uselessness.

Hakkai: Indeed. He and Gojyo are as alike as two peas in a pod, but only if you consider their faces. I guess his sort of conscientiousness is not something that can be passed down genetically.

Gojyo: Hmm? Eh? Why are you all staring at me?

(The doorbell chimes.)

Tokito: Sorry for the intrusion!

Hakkai: Oh? Looks like Tokito-kun’s calling for you.

Goku (pushes his chair back and washes down his breakfast with a hurried gulp of tea): Coming!

Sanzo: Goku.

Goku: Oh, that’s right. (puts his hands together and claps once) Thank you for the meal.

Sanzo: Mm-hm.

Hakkai (as Goku starts to run off): Ah, Goku, the box lunch!

Goku: Yeah, that’s right – the box lunch which is more important than the textbooks!

Gojyo: Don’t ride your bike too fast and knock down a car.

Goku: How on earth am I supposed to do that? Well, I’m off!

Hakkai: See you later. Take care!

--------

Goku (slides the door open): Sorry for the wait, Tokito.

(A dog pants and whines.)

Tokito: Your family dog is as friendly as ever.

(The dog barks happily on seeing Goku.)

Goku: Morning to you too, Jeep. I’ll take you for your walk after school’s over, okay?

Tokito: It’s a moot question at this stage, but why did you guys name him Jeep?

Goku: Dad said: “Since he moves about on four [legs → wheels], he’s like a jeep, don’t you think?” By the way, there’s some dog hair on your uniform.

Tokito: I don’t mind if it’s just this much. We happen to run a laundry business anyway.

Goku: Ah, same here. When I was small, grandpa often said: “No matter how much mud you’re covered all over with, don’t worry. We happen to operate a bathhouse anyway.”

--------

(Sound of running water and dishes being washed.)

Announcer on the TV: Right, at the bottom of their luck today are those of you born in November. Sorry, but it seems you won’t have any good encounter today. Moving on to a more pleasant prediction – today’s luckiest are those born in–

Gojyo (grumbles and turns off the TV): Did you hear that? Today’s horoscope is pretty disappointing for those born in November, gramps.

Sanzo: You’re born in November too. Say, you seem to be awfully free today, NEET grandson.

Gojyo: As I said before, I’m not a NEET! I have a late-night shift for my part-time job today.

Sanzo: Hmmph. In any case, there's no way on earth it’s a decent part-time job too this time around. (turns a page of the newspaper he is reading) I’m already providing for your living expenses as much as I can, so mind your manners when you speak to me. **

Gojyo: Hey, I wish I could hold as many part-time jobs as I like at the same time, too!

Hakkai: Ah, Gojyo, so you’re on a night-shift today? If so, that’s just great–

Gojyo (shudders): Here it comes.

Hakkai: Then, I shall entrust you with the following: walk Jeep by noon, tidy up the bathhouse during the midday-break and perform a brief inspection of the boiler. Also, once the bathhouse reopens for business after the mid-day break, please man the attendant's booth until dinnertime. Ah, during your time off your part-time job, I get to run errands outside the house and catch up with the housework. That’s really a great help!

Gojyo: My time off today has already vanished.

Hakkai: It’s not as if you’ll be doing those things for nothing in return, is it? In exchange for performing the routine tasks or duties around the bathhouse, you’re exempted from contributing to your portion of the living expenses, such as utility bills and grocery.

Sanzo: That’s how it is.

Gojyo: Isn’t making the relatives work without pay the most typical feature of exploitative family businesses?

Hakkai: Even you should know that we can’t afford to hire part-timers from outside.

Gojyo: Nowadays, there’s no way to attract new customers with an outdated bathhouse like ours. With its tiled roof and a picture of Mount Fuji on its wall, it’s like a fossil. I say, take a momentous step and renovate it as a modern spa complex! We have enough land–

(He is interrupted by a resounding hit, probably to his head.)

Gojyo: Ouch!

Sanzo: We’ve been catering to the locals’ bathing needs since the days of your great-grandfather. This bathhouse has its share of history and social status in this town. I won’t allow it to be thoughtlessly changed into a tawdry amusement facility while I'm alive.

Gojyo: This is precisely why old people are causing problems to society. They stubbornly cling to the their ways in their nostalgia for the bygone days.

Sanzo: Hah? What did you just say?

Hakkai: But Gojyo, there is a niche market for traditional bathhouses like ours, with their undulating and pointed gables [https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sent%C5%8D]. We get visits from enthusiasts who prefer such bathhouses, you know. Moreover, Tokito-kun has made a homepage for our bathhouse and the traffic to it is steadily increasing too.

Gojyo: So the only thing competitive and up-to-date about this traditional bathhouse is its homepage. It will just end up as a topic on some internet forums.

Sanzo: If you have the time to say such useless things, get up and do some work right way. (returns to his newspaper) Even if you’re my grandson, I have no obligation to feed you for free.

Gojyo: Yeah, yeah.

Hakkai: Now, could you please move from your spot there, Father? I’d like to vacuum the floor.

Sanzo: All right. (gets up and moves away)

Hakkai: Ah, if you wish to tinker with the bonsai, please do it downwind. The laundry will get dirty otherwise.

Sanzo: All right.

--------

Tenpou (groans he stretches): I feel as if I can sleep forever – I must be getting old.

(He lights a cigarette and takes a long drag on it. Cicadas buzz in the background.)

Tenpou: It’s muggy in here! (flings off his blanket and slides the window open)

(A vehicles passes by as he sighs.)

Tenpou: It’s hot outside too. We’re already well into summer, I guess.

Gojyo (from outside): Hey, Mister Writer!

Tenpou: Why, if it isn't Gojyo-kun! Good morning. Are you sweeping the garden this early in the morning?

Gojyo: It’s already 2 pm though.

Tenpou: Didn’t you have the same sleep–wake cycle as me until a while ago?

Gojyo: Yeah, I did. Ever since that guy came to our place, everything’s become healthful.

Tenpou (laughs): Isn’t that a good thing? Well, here’s some candies from this freeloader old man to the young man who’s working hard and healthfully at his labor. (throws down something)

Gojyo: Are you an Osakan granny? [Tenpou used a term from Kansai dialect, ‘amechan,’ for candy.] (catches the candy) That’s quite a lot of candies**. Thanks!

Tenpou: By the way– (pauses to blow out cigarette smoke)

Gojyo: Yeah?

Tenpou: I feel like eating chicken nuggets from McDonald's.

Gojyo: Just go and buy them yourself, geezer writer!

--------

(Round brackets): actions and sound effects. [Square brackets]: translator’s notes or clarifications. Double asterisks **: Stuff I am not sure with. Suggestions for improvements and corrections are more than welcome.

#最湯記 #最遊記 #wild adapter #saiyuki drama cd #translation