Tumgik
#for some reason people really like it though
Text
Sleep Calls (Mouse series) - Max Verstappen
Summary: Max and y/n are the last people to arrive in Australia for the race weekend and y/n is absolutely obliterated by jet lag.
We haven't seen Mouse for a while. Idek if people still want this series. But we'll see if anyone likes this one and go from there.
Tumblr media
Y/n had been a little worried about how last minute Max decided to head off from Monaco to Australia. But Max insisted they'd be just fine.
"Mouse." Max whispers trying to ease her from the depth of sleep since they've landed.
"No..."
"I'm sorry." Max laughs as she grunts and looks at him with a heavy sigh. "Come on, mouse. We'll get you straight to the hotel."
Y/n yawns standing up, her hands digging into her eyes still she sees stars and feels Max's hands on her sides to stabilise her unintentionally swaying.
"Are you ok?" Max asks softly earning a nod as she drops her hands squinting for a moment before she lets Max begin got guide her forward.
He already knows that y/n is going to be quieter than usual because she's tired. Despite it being summer in Australia. Max does coax her into getting her Red Bull jacket on before they step out. He also manages to get sunglasses on her.
"Alright, mouse." Max soothes as they step out the jet and he guides her down the steps and to the airport. She latches onto his hand as they walk through the airport.
He really lets her just remain silent in the journey to the hotel, she's sits drawing some shapes on the back of his hand while she leans her head on his shoulder.
When they get to the hotel, Max decides to pull a move that forces y/n to find her voice, though only to squeal when Max suddenly picks her up and throws her onto the bed.
"Max!" Y/n giggles while he smiles at her before beginning to look around at the luggage that has already been brought up.
"Get comfortable, I already know you want to go back to sleep again." Max states while she hums and sighs softly to herself.
"Setting up your sim stuff?" Y/n yawns before she looks at him for a moment.
"Yeah, I'll set it up then I'm going to call the reception to make sure I can get the best connection." Max hums moving over to her with a smile and kissing her. "Get some more sleep. I'll wake you up when you want to eat."
"Thank you." Y/n murmurs making him smile at her as she shuffles to the top of the bed and shoving her face in a pillow.
-
Usually y/n is pretty on it for the WAG camera shots and since she's dating Max and is a fan favourite. She has been shown so much in the practices.
So far none of the shots have made her look very appealing. She keeps yawning. One shot she didn't even witness till after the practice because it was reposted online as she was caught on camera curled up on a seat just hiding in the corner with her head leaning against the wall while she napped.
"Mouse, you are beautiful." Max teases as she whines a little showing him her phone with a video that is of all the clips of her across FP1 and FP2. "Don't worry, you'll get used to the timezone soon."
"Doesn't feel like it." Y/n mumbles while yawning again then following it up with a quiet groan.
She has never travelled well with huge timezone differences. It's one of the reasons she loves the European races so much. Though Australia is the best of the rest to her. Not that she feels like she's getting to even enjoy it like she'd like to.
"Awww Mouse. Don't get sad about it." Max laughs raising her hand and kissing the back of it. "We're going to grab something to eat, you haven't been eating much since we got here."
Y/n hums since that is true, she's been sleeping so much most of what she's eaten is nothing more than snack sized bites of stuff.
"Did a fan make this video?" Max asks suddenly as he rewatches the video making her tsk and take the phone with with a small frown while he laughs.
Max gets caught by some kid fans stopping to interact with them and sign a few things for a few different fans. He'd usually try to make a quick exit but actually he needs to try and get y/n to stay awake for longer anyway so keeping her from getting back in close proximity to the bed so soon.
"Alright, come on mouse." Max smiles finally deciding it's time to go. She immediately moves quickly to latch onto his hand holding onto his bicep tightly with her other hand as she does so. "You can come on the sim with me."
Now, it's a either something she really is going to get excited over or she's going to just shrug too tired to even entertain the idea.
"After we eat?" She mumbles since now she's been thinking about it, food in full meal form doesn't sound too bad.
"Of course we can." Max smiles as they get to the car and he opens the door for her to climb in first.
So they get back to the hotel and Max orders y/n multiple courses from pasta, pizza and burgers to the more refined taste of scallops and artichokes.
Y/n ends up picking at it all like a buffet but he does sort of make sure she eats enough for him to deem it that she's at least eaten the equivalent of a full meal.
He eats some too then moves to adjust the sim set up for her.
"I wanna go on with you." Y/n mumbles quickly when she notices him moving the seat to fit her height rather than his own.
"Are you sure? Usually you get annoyed when I try to help?" Max laughs since going on the sim with her is the only time they bicker, he tries to literally backseat drive while she actually tries to focus on it for a moment. "I don't want to upset you while you're hungry."
"Then don't try to help." Y/n states simply making him laugh before he moves over, his hands cupping her face as he kisses her a couple times. "But I want you to sit with me."
"Ok, mouse. Don't pout." Max chuckles moving back to the seat and adjusting it to where he thinks they both fit.
Eventually he gets her sat on his lap. Max actually loves seeing her focus on the sim, and he's proud to say she's not too bad for someone who doesn't even really like driving and will actively do anything to dodge it. Thankfully on the one occasion Max has been a passenger to his girlfriend. It was a short journey and he assured her he'd never ask it of her again.
"Brake, mouse-mouse, you can't just cut-no."
"Max!" Y/n huffs, his constant instructions making her frown. "I can't focus."
"I'm just making sure you aren't making mistakes."
Y/n grumbles making him smile watching her, not that she can see it. It's definitely something he finds amusing, though he really does struggle to bite his tongue and there's a couple times he grabs the wheel not to help because he promised not to. No he's just "aiding" or "guiding" her.
At some point she decides to give up when she manages to land herself in the wall. Tiredness is getting too much and not even sim racing is going to keep her awake. Clearly it's much more effective for Max.
"Why don't I run us a bath? Just it's still a little early and that way you can relax, I'll keep you awake and stop you from sort of...drowning in the bath." Max smiles while she yawns a little, droopy eyes suggesting just the thought of a bath is tiring her out.
He decides to try y/n with a Red Bull to give her a short lived buzz of energy. After all she doesn't drink much Red Bull despite the brand and Max's choice of drink actually being that of a Red Bull.
"Alright, mouse. Drink that. I'll run the bath." Max smiles making her look tiredly down at the Red Bull like she didn't even realise it was in her hand.
Max definitely knows he's going to have to perform a miracle to keep her awake and not return to find her falling asleep just standing up.
Y/n seems to sense him being worried to leave her so she follows quietly taking the biggest mouthful of Red Bull she ever thinks she's taken then swallowing it back with a bit of a grimace. The sweetness hitting her tastebuds unexpectedly hard. She even shudders at the sweetness.
"Alright, drink the rest. I'm not risking your dropping it in the bath. I love Red Bull but not enough to bathe in it." Max smiles picking up the can from her hand and shaking it to test how much she's managed to neck in the time it's taken to fill the bath.
Max manages to wiggle her jeans down while she gulps the rest down. Then putting it down on the sink and smiling as Max pulls her top off up over her head.
"You need to get naked too." Y/n mumbles, clearly the Red Bull is thankfully waking her up a little.
"Of course." Max chuckles then smiling as she moves to kiss him on her toes. He's undressed not a minute later and they're both climbing in the warm bath. Y/n at the opposite end to him. "You're too far away, mouse."
"Am I?" Y/n giggles earning a hum and nod before she feels his hands reach under her knees beneath the water and before she knows it she's pulled over to straddle him.
"You were." Max confirms before smiling at her softly.
"Sorry."
"It's ok, I fixed it." Max shrugs then tucking a few strands of her hair back. She'd thrown her hair up to avoid it getting wet, though some stray strands has dipped into the water.
"I'm still so tired, Maxie." Y/n pouts making him smile at her lightly and lean forward kissing her.
"You can sleep soon, I promise mouse." Max smiles sadly since he and everyone who has to travel for the sport dislikes the matter of timezones most.
Adjusting to them just extra effort that no one really wants to devote time to.
Y/n does seem to crash from the short-lived energy boost from the Red Bull and Max's attempts to keep her from crashing too hard work only just.
When they get out the bath she's just about blinking and managing to keep herself awake as she basically lets Max dry her off then much more lovingly and gently put her on the bed. Rather than throw her like he did when they arrived.
"Alright, mouse. You can go to sleep."
Not that she needs to be told twice, he only just gets to steal a kiss before she closes her eyes and is out for the count. Her body heavy and not even properly under the sheets before her heavy breaths are evened out and she's gone from the realm of consciousness.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03 @harrysdimple05 @mellowarcadefun @cixrosie @scopeiguess @racingheartsposts @c-losur3
764 notes · View notes
flamingpudding · 3 days
Note
I'm back with a part 4 if you want to do it it's kind of more of a crack write I just need Klarion trying to explain the family tree
But not explaining how he was made at all So Young Justice and the Justice League are now convinced that a the Ghost King was a teenage parent who is now 27 years old and just passed college with a degree in astronomy and machinery
Klarion's other parent is a a crazy fruit loop 64 year old millionaire who went to college with Klarion's Mom parents who had an emotionally unhealthy obsession with his mom's mother and then it passed on to his mom.
And he has an older sister who is technicality a clone of his mom but also has the bastards DNA so fundamentally making Ellie Vlad Master and Mom's first born kid but there's six other siblings that Klarion had that died back a while back but Mom got granddad who's apparently the time lord AKA Cronos which is a whole another long story to go back in time and save those kids get them fixed up and now Klarion technicality has seven older siblings which all do their own things
And then he starts mentioning his uncle who is a 9 ft yeti his technicality auntie who is a medieval ghost princess who can turn into a dragon his auntie Pandora and his his grandfather cronos
My names for the six other clone children are Donald (he/him), Cecelia (they/she), Bartholomew(Them/They), Kyle AKA Bite(He/It), Brutus(He/They), and then there's Danna (She/Her) who actually really like the name Dan and asked Klarion if could have it when Klarion changed his name
Sorry if this is a little bit too much I've just really been thinking about au for this after the last part you made I hope this helps you with your writing or at least makes you laugh but I really love the idea of Danny's AKA somewhat clone children and finding their own personalities and and fighting themselves out of just being failed clone of their mom also I love the idea of Danny going back in time to save the rest of the clone kids cuz now he's a mature adult who wants to save their lives and wants them to grow into their own people.
(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)
I probably did way to much research into all the fandoms I am in to see what I could tie into this... And yet this feels shorter than it should but I also currently lack the time to add more. But for now I hope this will be satisfactorily.
Also this family tree idea especially the part of saving the melted clones. LOVE IT!
So even though it took me a while! here is Part 4 you inspired! Thanks so much for the ask!
------------------
"Dude, you are making us only curious!" Impulse spoke up as he sat down next to Klarion who had his head in his hands. "Like you and your mom can't just drop your family lore like that!"
The witch boy on the other hand looked up with narrowed eyes at the speedster. "What lore?"
"Let's see, the part that apparently a Vlad tried to kill your Grandpa to make friends several time. That your mom is 'ghost' adopted by the lord of time Cronos and Pandora, which makes us family too by the way, and that you have a sister that apparently is even crazier than what we got to know of your family so far." Wonder Girl counted off her fingers next to him grinning as she mentioned the part of probably being a part of his 'crazy' family too. Which hell yea, that sounded like a lot of fun to be explored she would have to talk with Wonder Woman about that as soon as possible.
"Also..." Red Robin added as he flipped through the photo album that apparently no one remembered he had. He was turning it around and pointed at a particular photo with a wild bunch of people in it that varied between more human and well... less humanoid people. One of them definitely was a Yeti and there was also what looked like living armor as well as Teekly (they knew that demon cat at least), a giant green dog and for some reasons there was a green aggressive looking Octopus in the background too. "...how are you related to a Yeti?"
"Hey that man there and those other teens in the picture actually have some resembles with you! Do you have older brothers too?" Superboy additionally asked as he moved around Red Robin to see the photo better pointing at a man that appeared to be in this late twenties, blue eyed, black haired and a little on the buffer side. If he didn't know any better and the fact that he should keep his mouth shut about their actual identities he would have jokingly asked Red Robin if his family would like to add more kids considering Klarions family apparently had a bunch of black haired blue eyed members too, judging by the photo at least.
"What are you talking about. That man is my mom and yes the others are actually my older brothers and that Yeti is uncle Frostbite who also happens to be the best medic in the Infinite Realms" The four teen heroes looked stunned at the picture and then back at the Ghost King that was smiling at them, still seated by the dinner table with their mentors. Who by the way were now perking up at the change of topic and the information they could gain with it, well Wonder Woman was more interested in the apparently extended family she had.
"Oh I remember we took this photo last year, it was such a hassle to get everyone into one place with them all being busy doing their own things." Danny mused for a moment, remembering fondly how he had to literally drag some of the kids home through a portal.
"It was more annoying than anything too since I was declared to be the youngest...." Klarion muttered also remembering that day not as fondly as his mother.
"Wait, wait, wait! That is a picture of your family? I need an explanation buddy!" Impulse cut in without shame, quickly removing the picture from the photo album to get a better look at it before holding it out to Klarion so he could explain all the individuals. "Plus why does your mom look soooo.... human?"
The witch boy on the other hand stared at him for a couple of seconds before looking over towards his mother as if waiting for something. After a moment the teen heroes as well as their mentors saw Danny nod with a little smile. "This dimension doesn't have the GIW so its fine, the Justice League Dark won't be a problem either, right?." Constantine flinched at the smile the Ghost King was giving him, muttering something under his breath as he had hoped his presence had been forgotten.
"Since mom is giving his okay...." Klarion mutter sitting crosslegged on the ground as he snatched the photo album from Red Robin and flipped through it. "Lets start with the easiest stuff to explain."
Danny chuckled noticing that not only the teen heroes but their mentors as well showed an interest. He choose to stay quiet letting the adults listen in on the kids, and if things went bad he would just ask Clockwork if they could revert time back to this moment and he would change his nod of permission to a shake of denial.
"Okay first of, this is my mom and his sister Jasmine, this is Danielle my older sister and that hulk with flaming white hair and blueish skin is me. That was before I got deaged because of destabilising." Klarion explained flipping to a photo of him, Danny, Jazz and Danielle. "Mom was around fifteen, Aunt Jazz about seventeen and Ellie should have been about a year old but she was aged up to twelve. They look human in this one because well they are. Mom was originally human and became what you call in this dimension a Meta through an accident."
"Wait... that would mean your mom... How could he have two kids at that age of fourteen? You look like an adult and your sister was aged up?" Wonder Girl couldn't help but ask as she looked from the photo and back to Danny at the dinner table again.
"That's cause Vlad was a fu-"
"Language Klarion!"
"Vlad was a fruitloop. That photo was taken shortly after Vlad and I sort of redeemed our selfs. Plus, mom didn't really have my sister and me willingly.... we were kind of forced upon him in a way." Klarion explained shrugging. "Old Man Vlad had an obsession with his mom that then turned on mom, which resulted in my oldest sister Danielle first. Actually, a lot of my elder siblings resulted from that, but they didn't survive it the first time, Mom got Old Man Clocks help to save them once he got used to being the Ghost King. I got added to the mix shortly after my sister, but... i wasn't in the best state of mind at first, kind of went through a redemption phase in which mom had to fix the timeline of our original home dimension, too."
Danny chuckled again at the disturbed looks the teens were giving his son as well as the looks their mentors sent him. He probably should correct Klarion's wording... but being one of the gremlins of his family he just smiled on, not commenting. He really understands now why Pops Clockwork liked watching the chaos he used to cause as teen, and still sometimes causes as adult.
"Klarion... how old is this Old Man Vlad?" Red Robin asked grimacing as his eyes under the mask flicked up to the Ghost King and then back to the witch boy both seemingly unbothered by the disturbing information they were sharing.
"In human years... probably around 67? You stop counting age at some point if your a halfa." Klarion shrugged, not noticing the grimaces of the teens around him. "Anyway, Ellie is sort of the first born. I came in after that, with my core being a mix of Mom and Vlad. Not DNA wise though since I came to be because of their ghost cores. That's why I look like that in this photo. Though human DNA wise I am probably now mostly Moms, we never bothered to ask the old man."
Danny muffled another chuckle, coughing as Superman sent him an incredulous look of shook while he felt Batmans burning gaze on him.
"You... mentioned more siblings?" Red Robin asked carefully sharing a look with his team, feeling like there was a whole lot of trauma in Klarions family he wasn't sure they should address or not. So asking after his siblings was probably, hopefully the safest option. They didn't know that while there was trauma in the witch boy's family it was not the kind they were imagining.
"Yea I got a bunch more brothers, Vlad was a evil crazy fuitloop, before he redeemed himself. They all kind of melted in one timeline but mom and Grandpa Clock found a way to save them." Klarion nodded flipping to another photo containing him, as he looked now, and all his siblings.
"So, Ellie you know about already. The one with the sunglasses and died hair is Bartholomew, second oldest. They made themselves a home in other dimension, barely at home cause he has to much fun messing with something called a 'Starstream' by being a 'Constellation' and throwing gold coins at 'Incarnations'. Don't ask me what that means, I barely pay attention when he gushes about his favorit 'Incarnation'. They spent like all their money and pocket money there. Aunt Jazz thinks he might develop a gambling addiction if we don't stop his spendings." The teen heroes eyed the teen that looked like a young adult grinning in the photo as the witch boy pointed at the one next to them. "The one with the vile is my elder brother Bite, most responsible one of this bunch. Mom even allowed him to take care of a couple of dimensions by taking the role of being their God of Death. I think he messed them up more than helped but he is doing a somewhat good job, even if he is sort of obsessed with making some red head his saint or something..."
"One of your sibs is a God?" Impulse gabbed and Klarion just blinked at him with a shrug. "My Grandfather is the ruler of Time, your point is? Wonder Girl is also related to a God of your dimension."
"Never mind him, moving on." A yelp resounded as Superboy pushed Impulse head down leaning in more to see the photo better. "You got one emo looking brother there!"
"Oh that's Yamikumo, he is like a year or two older than me right now, in human years. He barely got any of mom's powers so he choose to try to life a somewhat normal life but weirdly enough he choose a dimension that is ruled by people who have powers and abilities, you know like the Meta Humans of this dimension. Now that I think about it, he is also the only one who actually is studying on how to be a Hero."
"Do you end up fighting with him if he studies to be a hero?" Wonder Girl whisper asked him with a quick glance towards their mentors, to which Klarion shook his head. "As long as we leave the dimensions one of us choose to live in alone we usually don't fight about stuff like that, aside from the usual sibling fights that is. Then again I do have some siblings that like to make bets like who is better at ruling as demon lord, or who can safe a dying timeline quicker."
Danny chuckled again as he watched the kids, Klarion had definitely caused some misunderstandings with his wording. Then again it wasn't like Klarion said anything that wasn't true, but then again his son loved chaos. So there was a suspicion that Klarion intentionally choose the way he worded the explanation about how he and Ellie came to be as well as the rest of siblings.
"So....." Superman slowly started wondering how he should bring up the topic. "...you became a mom at 14?"
"Say Danny is there a way for me to meet this Vlad? You know since we are family." Wonder Woman also asked smiling in a certain way that reminded Danny of Valerie when she was mad but didn't want to show right away how mad she was, to which the Ghost King on reflex could do nothing but gulp for a moment. Not noticing that a green post it note appeared on the table before him.
335 notes · View notes
hothammies · 23 hours
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
the party leader, mike wheeler - apoc au character details + poll under the cut!
---
mike's role in the party:
a scouter - essentially plans runs, checks areas first to ensure safety, and directs the runners during supply runs
assigns basic survival chores at the beginning of each day (laundry, boiling water, patrol, hunting, etc.)
is the "face" of the party -> always the one to negotiate with people of other groups
even though the party likes to give him shit for being kind of rude and bossy about how he talks to them in "leader" mode - they always hang onto his every word! they love and respect him deeply
kind of like a tired dad whenever he's not fighting with someone else -> basically watches over everyone to make sure they're okay
would never hesitate to do something deplorable to protect the party: family first
skills + hobbies:
considered the designated driver (along with max): nancy taught him when he was younger. he was scared about being useless due to his inability to shoot and aim guns so nancy helped him find something useful. max teaches him how to drive manual so that he can drive her muscle car (its how they get over their distaste for each other)
writes an entry in a journal that he stole every day! he lets will doodle in the margins of the paper :)
loves to read whatever's around - particularly interested in history, sci-fi, and old journals from people before the apocalypse (reads them with dustin and el -> they are nosy as hell and live for the drama)
great at using machetes and hatchets -> do NOT let this boy shoot a gun. he will accidentally hurt you and himself
good at fixing up guns and navigating - lucas (guns) and dustin (navigating) taught him :D
quirks / fun facts:
he likes to switch around the pins on his jacket a lot! the party find pins around to give to him (range from terrible to wearable)
since he's the only boy that likes to tie up his hair, max and el like to doll up and play around with his hair during their downtime
is very annoying and particular when it comes to doing survival chores (out of love) -> makes sure that the chores are divided equally among all of them and that no one gets the same chores twice in a row
--- other notes: mike was the first character i had in mind when thinking about this au (no surprise there) and the drawing of him sitting cross legged with a machete in his hand was the first ever "official" drawing i made for this :D i tried to make apoc mike similar to canon mike in terms of his temperament, his hero complex, his self-sacrificial tendencies, his inability to appropriately process his romantic feelings, his natural leadership and his personality. about mike's inability to use guns -> looking at mike's character dnd sheet, his dexterity is low and s1 mike wheeler cannot aim for shit either (see his rock throw). the reason he's most comfortable with machetes (and hatchets) is because of their versatility as both weapons and tools! just wanted to share because i think mike needed a nerf and him not being able to shoot guns is both in character and funny as hell to me i've had mike and will's char sheets done for a while and i really love the way they look :) i'm excited to post will's next! i'm working on the character sheets in batches of two, so which duo are yall most interested to see next? i'll work on them based on the poll results and post them next week at the earliest :) i'll prob also try out some concept designs for the demogorgon-like zombies sometime soon as well!
336 notes · View notes
Text
Another
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader
Requested by anonymous
Synopsis: You go with your brothers to a bar, but things turn sideways when a stranger won’t leave you alone.
Warnings: creepy guy, scared reader, protective Sam and Dean
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Another hunt. Another town. Another bar.
After you guys had moved into the bunker, some stupid, stupid part of you thought that maybe some things would change. But some things would always be the same.
You didn’t mind the hunting, you really didn’t. You didn’t want to do it, and you wished your brothers had a safer life, but you understood at least. They helped people, and that was everything.
But you hated this; being in a town full of strangers in a bar full of people much older than you, huddling in a corner waiting for your big brothers. There was nothing like not belonging while being surrounded by drunk, adult strangers.
Usually, the adults would stare at you like you were an alien for a moment or two, then ignore you. Young teens weren’t common in bars, but it wasn’t interesting enough to keep them from their good times.
This time, something was different. A man near the bar had been staring at you ever since you walked in the door. You had even gone to the other side of the bar to avoid him, but he followed. He hadn’t approached you, but he wouldn’t stop staring. Since he’d yet to go near you, you didn’t see a reason to bother Sam and Dean about it.
But he was starting to freak you out, so you found yourself trying to locate Sam or Dean in the crowded bar.
“Hey.”
You were so distracted looking for your brothers that you hadn’t seen the man approaching.
“Name’s Greg,” he greeted.
“Hi,” you muttered, still glancing around for Sam and Dean.
“What’s a sweetheart like you doing here alone?” Greg asked in a sickeningly sweet voice.
“‘M not—“ You were squirming in your seat now, and Sam and Dean were nowhere to be seen. “—not alone.”
“Now don’t be nervous.” Greg took the seat next to you and scooted it closer so that his knee was touching yours. You tried to scoot back, but you chair was already against the wall. You couldn’t go back, and Greg was angled in such a way that if you got up, he was blocking any easy exit.
“I have to find my brothers,” you said, deciding to risk it and stand up, attempting to squirm past the man.
Your whole body stiffened as though someone had dropped an ice cube down your back. Greg, still sitting in his own chair, and grabbed your leg right above your knee when you stood. His fingers were curled, gripping you much too tightly.
“Hey now,” he said, trying to keep up the sweet tone but sounding annoyed. “No need to rush off.” His fingers slackened their grip, but once he let go he stood, towering over you much too closely. And then the hand that was on your knee was on your shoulder, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin near your neck.
“I-I have to—“ your voice caught in your throat when his grip tightened painfully.
“No you don’t,” he all but commanded. “Just stay right here with me, nobody’s gonna miss you.” He shifted forward until all you could see was him. Your back was up against the wall; you had nowhere to go.
“Please don’t—“
“Hey!”
As soon as Greg had appeared, he was gone, and in his place stood the men you’d been so desperate to find.
Dean was shoving Greg toward the exit, and Sam was right there with him until you called out for him.
Sam turned hesitantly, leaving Dean to deal with the creep as he rushed to you and began to examine you.
“Did he hurt you?” Sam demanded.
You shook your head even as you rubbed your sore shoulder. This didn’t go unnoticed by Sam, who pulled aside your sleeve just enough to see the bruises already forming near your neck. His jaw ticked, and he turned to go after Greg, but you grabbed onto his sleeve to keep him near you.
“Don’t go,” you pleaded, and he relented immediately. The moment his arms wrapped around your shoulders, you all but melted into him. The adrenaline that had been pumping through your veins since the moment the man laid his hands on you now felt like a foreign substance pulsing in you, clogging your lungs and burning your eyes and making your knees weak. Your big brother held your weight up effortlessly, rubbing your back and breathing with exaggerated slowness as an example for you to slow your own ragged, racing breaths.
“You’re ok, you’re ok,” he breathed over and over again. “You’re safe now, I’ve got you.”
“Hey.” Dean’s voice had you peaking out from the safety of Sam’s arms. He was standing next to you now, his knuckles suspiciously bruised and bloodied. “Hey, you ok sweetheart?”
You nodded weakly, still resting against Sam. Dean pulled his jacket off and draped it against your shaking shoulders, and the familiar weight and scent washed over you and seemed to abate the adrenaline in your system, at least a little. You took a slow, deep breath that matched Sam’s.
“Let’s get you to the Impala, ok?” Sam suggested gently. You nodded, and Sam kept his arm around your shoulder as the brothers ushered you out. There wasn’t a moment when you weren’t completely surrounded by their protective presence.
Sam guided you into the back of the Impala before joining Dean in the front seats.
Dean glanced back at you every few seconds in the rearview mirror.
“How’s it going back there?”
“‘M ok,” you mumbled, and Dean’s eyebrows curved downward as his mouth retreated into a thin line.
“Ok,” he sighed, and you knew he didn’t believe you.
It didn’t take long to reach the motel, and once the three of you were settled inside Sam spoke again.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
You shook your head quickly, bringing your legs up to your chest and hugging your knees.
“I’m fine,” you said shakily. “He just—he got a little pushy…and grabby.”
“Grabby?” Dean gritted his teeth. “I knew I should’ve hit him harder.”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” you sighed.
“Ok, ok.” Dean rubbed his face. “I’m sorry.”
“This isn’t your fault,” you said quickly. “It’s not—it’s not that big of a deal.”
“Yes it is,” Dean insisted. “And it’s not going to happen again. Either me or Sam is gonna be with you next time, we’re not gonna leave you alone again, ok?”
You nodded. “Ok, that…that sounds good. In case there’s another time.”
“There’s not gonna be another time,” Sam said, pulling you into his arms. “We’re gonna be there. Always.”
Taglist:
@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale
213 notes · View notes
janeyseymour · 3 days
Text
Just Sex
Summary: Melissa is hooking up with the chief at the firehouse, so you decide that you can have your own fun.
WC: ~2.1k
Tumblr media
After the failed relationship and proposal with Gary, Melissa has been going out to bars and staying out late at night. She finds herself in bed with quite a few men and women, and while she’s not thrilled that she’s back to this lifestyle, she’s impressed that she still has what it takes. Getting older did not make it any easier to attract people.
But then one night she sees the fire chief out at the bar, one thing leads to the other, and they’re in a friends with benefits sort of situationship.
Of course, all of this comes out when you’re renewing your CPR training certificate with the Abbott clan, and Barbara has made it quite clear that she’s upset Melissa didn’t tell her of this relationship before.
You had been busy trying to pass your test, but now it’s your partner’s turn to go, and you tune back into the world around you.
“But if I were gonna label it, I would say it’s just sex,” you hear Melissa tell her work wife in a low voice.
You don’t really know what she’s talking about, but you shrug it off. That is, until Janine comes back into the room and asks for the gossip. Barbara of course goes off, claiming that her friend of over fifteen years trusts her no more than a common street stranger. It becomes apparent to you that whatever hookup situation they’re talking about has been going on for a bit of time now. You feel a nasty pit settle in your stomach at that.
That pit only grows when you go out with the crew after the CPR course to celebrate the fact that you all passed. Of course, conversation leads back to Melissa and Jacob both having sexual relations with people from the firehouse.
“Well, I think I blew that one,” Jacob groans as he finishes off his aperol spritz. “But let’s talk about you, Mel Mel.”
“There ain’t nothin’ to talk about,” the redhead waves him off. “It’s just casual sex.”
“Casual sex that’s been going on for how long?” Barbara asks with a raised brow.
Melissa purses her lips as she thinks. “Couple weeks now?”
“A month,” Jacob cuts in. “C’mon, Melissa. When are you just going to admit that you like him?”
“I do not,” she states very clearly. “I just need something to take the edge off for me, and… he does that.”
“How kinky is it?” Ava asks, a smirk on her face.
Jacob opens his mouth, and Melissa very quickly shoves her hand over his mouth. “You say a word, and you’re out on the curb faster than you were out with Zach.”
The man’s eyes widen, and he nods quickly. She pulls her hand away from his mouth, and he breathes a deep sigh in relief. 
“I’m not looking for a relationship or nothing… not unless the right person comes along,” the second grade teacher says as she finishes off her beer.
Barb turns to look at her work wife with a curious face. She knows of the little crush that her best friend has on you. Melissa just nods at the kindergarten teacher’s silent question.
But you don’t take it that way, because you have no idea that Melissa has had her eye on you since before she broke it off with Gary. You see it that you have no chance with your favorite coworker at all.
Feeling as though you could burst into tears at any given moment, you quietly excuse yourself from the rest of the outing and head for your apartment.
“What was that?” Melissa furrows a brow and purses her lips as she gazes in the direction that you left.
“I’m sure it was just a long day for her is all,” Janine tries to come up with some sort of logistical reason as to why you would leave early. “I did have a meeting with her before school even started today, so she’s been up for quite some time.”
Everybody seems to accept that reasoning, and they continue on with their night.
The next day, you march yourself into Ava’s office bright and early.
“Girl, what are you doin? I’m tryna get this knot out of my back,” your principal groans as she shuts off her personal back massager.
“I need your help,” you tell her, not even bothering to acknowledge that she isn’t doing her job at all.
“With?” She leans forward just slightly in her chair.
You smile at her. “I know you know a bunch of people… set me up with someone?”
“Oh, girl,” she laughs. “What’s gotten into you? Every other time I’ve asked if you want someone, you decline!”
“Just… thinking I should get myself out there,” you shrug. “You know? If Melissa can do it, so can I.”
Ava’s jaw drops. “So this is about Melissa.”
“What?”
“I knew you had the hots for her!” the principal grins. 
“What? Not! I- I just figured, if everyone else can have at it, so can I?”
“Oh, girl,” she laughs in your face. “This ain’t you at all, but I am in full support of it. Give me til the end of the day, and I’ll have someone for you.”
You end up going out with a woman that night that Ava set you with, and you do end up actually liking her… and she’s pretty damn good in bed.
The next morning, you’re practically glowing while you drink your morning coffee in the break room. Julie, the woman that you ended up in bed with last night, is texting you about maybe meeting up again later this week.
And if you weren’t still in love with the redhead that comes in a few seconds later, you would say yes. Instead, you send her a text that says, Maybe. Kinda busy the next couple weeks.
She texts you back a picture… a rather scandalous picture. And you blush when you see it.
“What’s got you all giddy today?” the redhead asks as she leans over. She sees the picture before you can close out of it, and her eyebrows creep up her head.
“Who’s that?”
You shrug. “Just someone Ava set me up with.”
“Ava?” Melissa asks in disbelief. “How long have you been seeing her?”
“Not long,” you tell her. “It’s just sex, really.”
The redhead folds her arms over her chest. “I didn’t think you were like that.”
“I’m not, but I figured I might as well give it a shot,” you say. “Now, I have to head to my room to finish up some of my grading, but I’ll see you later.”
You don’t have any intention to see her later. And you don’t. You pull back from her and her group- although most of them still find their ways to you. It’s mostly just the redheaded second grade teacher that you avoid. And it happens that way for a few more days.
You’re in the break room heating up your lunch when Ava comes in. “Girl! Are you gonna text Julie back or not?”
Melissa makes her way in, and you sigh. “It’s just sex. I’m not looking for a relationship or nothing… not unless the right person comes along,” you unintentionally repeat what the second grade teacher had said out at the bar. The microwave indicates that your food is finished, and you pull it out before heading back down to your classroom for lunch.
You miss the scowl on Melissa’s face, but Ava sure as hell doesn’t.
“Girl, you jealous or something?” the principal leans in with a smirk.
“What would I be jealous of?”
“That someone else is hitting that hot piece of ass,” Ava says like it’s obvious. The second grade teacher rolls her eyes, but Ava continues. “I see the way you look at her. Practically undressing her with your eyes every time she walks into the room.”
Melissa crosses her arms again. “I can’t believe you set her up with someone if you knew I like her.”
“I was hoping it would give you a swift kick in the ass that she was gonna start hoeing it up,” Ava shrugs. “Now admit that you’re jealous before everyone else comes in here.”
“Okay, I’m jealous,” the redhead relents. “But it don’t matter anyway. She isn’t lookin’ for anyone- she just said that.”
“She said, and I quote, ‘I’m not looking for a relationship or nothing… not unless the right person comes along. And girl, you’re that person for her!”
Everyone else starts filing in, and Ava makes it so that she looks impossibly bored, although she is actually quite the opposite. “Okay, I’m leaving this snooze fest.” She heads out, but not before giving Melissa a subtle wink and tap on the wrist. “Get it, girl.”
That day, Melissa sits thoughtfully during her lunch period about what Ava said… maybe she’s right? But she can’t be sure, so after dismissal duty, the fiery second grade teacher heads down to the front office and bursts into the principal’s office.
“Schemmenti,” Ava grins. “You do it yet?”
“I ain’t doin’ nothin’ until I’m positive Y/N has a thing for me too,” Melissa sits down across from the woman. “So tell me what you know.”
Ava spends a long time telling the redhead about the various times she’s caught you checking Melissa and only Melissa out, how you always seem to linger around her during events, how the two of you are almost always partners for things now and how you being around always makes her soft and you absolutely bask in her warmth. She even confesses that you went down to her office to ask her to set you up because of Melissa.
“You convinced yet?” the principal asks after ten minutes.
Melissa bites her lip. “Yeah. Okay.”
“I’d make a move quick though. She said something about potentially seeing Julie today.”
“Isn’t that going to piss off your friend that Y/N might leave her for me?”
“She ain’t my friend,” Ava says as she files her nails. “I made a dating profile for Y/N and picked the first mildly attractive woman I saw.”
“You’re unbelievable sometimes,” the redhead pinches the bridge of her nose.
“Maybe, but ain’t you gonna go get your girl?”
Melissa stands from her chair and thanks the principal before rushing out and down your hallway. She hopes to catch you before you head out for the night. And of course, because you’re a dedicated teacher, you’re still there prepping for tomorrow. She knocks on your doorframe and leans against it.
“Just a sec!” you reply cheerily, not turning around yet. You’re hands deep in soil for the gardening project that your students will be participating in tomorrow.
“I don’t got a second,” Melissa says. You whip around at her voice.
“Hey,” you sigh, all joy in your voice gone.
“Don’t go out with Julie tonight,” the redhead tells you.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because I want you to go out with me instead,” she tells you seriously.
“You’re dating the fire chief,” you deadpan.
“I ain’t dating nobody because the only person I want to date is you,” the redhead admits.
That gets you to drop the dirt that is currently in your hands. “What?”
“I told everyone I was just having casual sex and wasn’t looking for a relationship unless the right person came around because… because the only person I would want to be in a relationship is you, and I didn’t think I had a chance.”
“Melissa, are you an idiot?” You ask her. “I’ve shamelessly flirted with you since you broke it off with Gary and practically thrown myself at you in hopes that you would pick me instead of some random hookup.”
She crosses the room, and she’s kissing you before you even know what’s happening. You instinctively kiss her back, and… wow. When you pull away, you quickly wipe the dirt off of your hands before pulling her in close again.
“Don’t go out with Julie tonight,” she pleads again.
“Don’t go out with the fire chief anymore,” you mumble against her lips.
She nods and mutters, “I already called it off. You cancel on Julie, and meet me at my place?”
You end up at Melissa’s house within the hour, and she wines and dines you. And then you end up in her bed seeing stars. Your legs tremble for what feels like forever before she makes her way back up to you.
“And just so you know,” she husks into your ear. “There ain’t nothin’ casual about this. This ain’t just sex.”
Tags: (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22
266 notes · View notes
bizbat · 17 hours
Note
can you PLEASE write jason coming to you instead of anyone else. like i need that sooo bad please :)))
p.s i love your writing soo much. youre so talented, i am constantly giggling as i read
Always You . . .
🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️
🐼JJK Masterlist🐼
~ You can find more of my works here.
~ This took forever omg, but yesterday I got food poisoning so I finally got some time to write this. Not my proudest work but wtv.
Above all else, he'll always come to you.
Tumblr media
Contrary to popular belief, Jason Todd can be gentle. You've seen it, in the way he slowly flips through whatever book he's reading so you can read it over his shoulder, or how his fingers softly caress your thigh when you're seated beside him as if you're made of glass, or in the warm way he smiles whenever Damian says something the reminds him he's a child.
He's gentle now too, his head resting in your lap, his shirt torn and soaked in what's now dried blood. You can barely keep your eyes open, but you promised you'd watch over him while he slept, just in case something went wrong and he choked on his own blood or vomit.
You had that same nausea when he first came to your apartment at five in the morning, the bile rising in your throat at the smell of metal and the sight of blood gushing out of his gaping-
Just remembering is enough to keep you awake.
It . . . hurts, for many reasons, knowing that he puts his own life in danger for people he doesn't even know. You don't know why he does it, all you know is that for the next week and a half, he'll take a break to let his stitches heal at least a little bit. It's never enough, though. He'll crawl back to you in a few weeks, a sheepish smile on his face and his stitches popped open.
You'll roll your eyes but you always fix them for him. It's become a routine. Not one you're exactly fond of, but a routine nonetheless. It gives you something to look forward to. Sometimes it doesn't feel fair. The fact that he's always on the brink of death when you see him, that he's always covered in scars and wounds and gashes, and above all that, the fact that he only seems to come to you to sew a bullet hole shut or wrap a broken arm.
It does get exhausting, but who are you to complain. At least he trusts you, that's what you tell yourself. He comes to you because you're the only person he lets get that close to him these days, because you're the only person who won't chew his ear off. All things you've told yourself. He comes to you because maybe, possibly, potentially, somewhere deep deep inside, he loves you. That's your favorite excuse.
"You're really pretty, have I ever told you that?" You're so deep in thought you don't even realize those deep cerulean blue eyes are now studying your contemplative expression. When you calm your beating heart you turn your gaze back to his. "I thought you were sleeping?" "I was," He wraps his arm back around your waist, holding himself closer to you. "But you were tuggin' on my hair."
You hadn't even realized you'd been running your fingers through his hair until he pointed it out, though at some point in your thoughts it seems your hands had begun twisting around the raven locs. Upon said realization you immediately pull your hand away, only for him to reach out and pull it right back. "I didn't mind it that much doll." His smirk is enough to clear your mind.
He slowly rises from his position, moving to sit beside you, resting most of his weight on your shoulder with a groan. His hand reaches to his side, where a particularly nasty gash resided, thankfully sewn shut by you. Once the pain subsides he moves his hand to check your handy work. "Not bad, not bad at all." He turns that stupid smile back to you and it fries your brain. "Getting better and better every time."
It does make you smile. You weren't always so good at fixing him up. He'd come in almost every night needing you to patch him back up. It took awhile for you to be able to get him back in shape so fast. "Jay," A long while, actually. "I . . . I've been wondering?" You slowly proposition him. "Yeah? About what?" He is genuinely curious, and he knows that look on your face. He sits up, taking his weight off of you and resting against the arm of the couch.
"Just-nevermind, actually. It's stupid." You hold your hands in your lap. "It's not." He hates when you do that. When you shut yourself down before he even gets a chance to answer. "Ask me, I won't be mad." He leans in closer, his hand on your knee, and he strokes it how he always does. It takes a second to gain back your confidence. "Why-why do you always come to me when you're hurt? I just mean wouldn't it be better to go to Bruce, or Alfred, or I don't know, a doctor?"
The only thing worse than his smile is his laugh. Like an icy breeze on a hot summer's day, or a dark cold wave crashing down on a yellow beach. It warms your heart and makes you feel stupid for asking in the first place, all at the same time. "Why would I go to any of them? I like you." He likes you!!! You were right!!! "Because I'm not a professional. I can barely give you stitches, I don't know what I'd do if you were-if you," The quiver in your voice breaks his heart.
He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. "You don't need to worry about that. It's never gonna happen," He grabs your chin between his forefinger and his thumb and brings your gaze to his. "You take care of me, too much for me to be risky about that." You think you believe him, especially when he presses a kiss to your lips. Though you've tasted it a thousand times, you still wince at the taste of blood still clinging to his chapped lips.
He laughs when you grimace. "Sorry," He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He's quiet for a bit after that, silent as he holds you. Before too long he speaks again, breaking the, admittedly, uncomfortable silence. "I . . . I dunno why I always come to you. I guess I just . . . like it here. I like you." He's not looking at you when he says it, but you know he's being honest, and knowing him, he's understating.
It's enough for you, at least until next time. You relax into his body, satisfied. "I like you too Jaybird. I like you a lot."
175 notes · View notes
starillusion13 · 2 days
Text
Stay with me
Tumblr media
request: "can you do a yungi x y/n one where they're in college together kinda like a childhood bsf to lovers but poly?"
Pairing: Yunho x reader x Mingi
Genre: Fluff, Friends to lovers, College Au
Warnings: they are caring bestfriends to you, mention of insult/body shaming in public by your family, reader feeling insecure, isolation, hints of skipping meals, childhood love and mention school bully and violence (just few words). Just a cute friendship to love.
W.C: 4.5k
Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate. My first Yungi fic😁.
Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity
Now let's take a moment to appreciate my dear friend @dreamsoffanfics Thanks for helping me out and being my proofreader. A dear friend indeed <3.
Tumblr media
"She isn't coming again today..." Yunho said and sat beside his friend. The other glanced at him and looked over at your place beside him where you usually sit.
It's been weeks that you were skipping university classes without any proper reason, just texting them that you are not feeling well or you have some important stuff to do. But not clearly explaining anything — that even you are texting them the next day. They are sick and worried for you as it's normal for your childhood best-friends to be like this.
Whenever they ask you to go to your place, you quickly respond with a negative message that you have somewhere to go or someone to meet.
Nobody knows what's the actual matter with you.
"Do you think we should go over to her place and check on her?" Mingi asked while tapping the pen on the desk.
Yunho nodded before pulling out his phone to check for your message but nothing was there to his disappointment. "I am really worried about her. She has never been like this. I don't know why but after returning from her hometown, she is acting weird."
"Did her parents tell her anything again?" Mingi rested his elbow on the table and leaned to his side.
Yunho made an unsure expression to his question and dropped his shoulders. He shook his head when he remembered the last interaction with you when he met you at the convenience store.
…..
"Y/n, why don't you say no to your parents directly? I'm sure that they won't be denying it."
You sighed and turned towards him before picking up the nearest packet of chips in the basket,"And you think that? You are so wrong, Yuyu. They don't care about my opinions."
"But you can try explaining them. I'm sure they will understand." Yunho placed a milk package in the basket to which you glared at him and he sent you his puppy eyes, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"That's a baby milk product."
"But you are still a baby." He said and held back his laugh.
This was his common teasing with you in every place and anytime you are having any serious conversation with him and whatever, however and whenever you are with him. You would feel relying on him the most. The bestest friend indeed. There’s a continuous warmth radiating from him for which you feel loved and secured. His big frame whenever he engulfs you in a hug, there’s a silent promise to you — that no matter what he would be there for you.
…..
He sighed when he imagined your face – irritated but laughing with him for the last time that day. After that day, you went to your hometown as it was the end of exam season and you didn’t meet your family for a long time. Last break, you were sick and had so many pending projects for several events that you opted for staying back on campus and completing them before it was too late.
It was late afternoon when they both finally had their last class and packed up their bags to leave the university. Anyways, they were not actually planning to stay there though. Mingi texted you a lot of times during the classes but some you ignored and to some, you replied with one word or just some common usual replies.
They both checked the timing and went towards the parking lot. Yunho took out the keys from his jacket’s pocket and Mingi was quick to enter the passenger seat. Both of them were in a hurry. They were eager to meet you. Before starting the engine, Yunho sighed deeply. A look of worry was visible on his face.
“I hope she is fine.”
Mingi nodded and patted his shoulder, “I’m sure, she is.”
…….
“Yah! Min…did you just eat my snacks yesterday?” stomping your feet, you reached the living room and stood in front of said man and glared at him.
He was so into the video game that he didn’t see your anger but just waved his hand and tried to push you aside. You hit his hand and the controller fell from his hold and sulkily he looked at your face.
“I was about to win the game.” He whined and leaned back into the couch.
“And I am about to eat you if you don't give me my snacks back.”
“Which one?” He furrowed his brows and crunched up his nose. “I’m gonna tell Yunho to buy them for you on his way back home.”
“No. Why’ll he buy it? You ate them and it’s your responsibility to buy them. And you know very well which snacks I’m talking about.” You pulled him up and dragged him towards the door, he was whining on his way but you ignored him and gestured to him to hurry up. “Don’t give me faces.” You folded your hands.
“But that store is far away.”
“And you know how to drive.”
……
While driving to your place, they stopped by some places to buy flowers, chocolates, ice cream and your favorite foods. When Yunho took a box of chocolates, he smiled at the thought of your smiling and excited face after receiving it. He puffed his cheeks and grabbed some other things as well.
Similarly, Mingi was smiling all the way when he bought your favorite ice-cream. He knew how you would jump on your feet after seeing it. He couldn't content his own happiness while buying it.
Apart from all these, they still called you to check on you. Yeah, after ignoring a few calls, you finally decided to pick up. The line was silent at first but then they heard shuffle sounds from the other side, Yunho was quick to speak into the call.
“What are you doing, y/n?” His voice was soft yet demanding.
They heard your deep sigh before your voice, “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean by you don’t know?”
“If I was really doing something then I could have told you. I was just laying on my bed and …..thinking.”
Actually, that was the main thing, they wanted to know whether you were at your apartment or not. If they would have asked you directly, then you could have got the hint of them wanting to come over to your place and you would have quickly made up a reason to avoid them.
Why actually were you avoiding them in the first place?
“Okay, then keep laying down and think.”
Yunho glared at Mingi at his weird reply but the latter just blinked at the phone in his hold and at him. They heard your chuckle and a little smile appeared on their faces. Atleast, you laughed— maybe a little.
“Why did you call me? Where are you both?”
“We are–”
Yunho cut Mingi’s answer, “hanging out.”
“Oh…okay. Have fun!” you tried to sound more enthusiastic but they could feel the sadness.
They didn’t drag the conversation because they knew that in a few minutes, they would be at your place and then you couldn’t ignore them or their questions. And this time, they would be surely erasing all your worries and sadness.
.
.
.
Almost after fifteen minutes, you heard your doorbell ring. You groaned at the thought of someone coming to your place at this time and you glared at your bedroom door. You got up from the bed and yawned before stepping in front of the mirror. You made a disgusted face at your reflection and combed your hair with just your fingers.
The bell rang again and you scoffed before mumbling under your breath while making your way towards the main door.
“Let me see whether I look like a human or not or it won't be my fault if you get scared.”
You peeked through the peephole and you were surprised to see your bestfriends standing at your doorstep on the other side. You quickly opened the door and your round eyes were staring at them.
“You both? Here…now?” you asked but slowly moved aside to welcome them inside. Mingi gave you the flowers they bought for you and smiling, you took them. You noticed paper bags in their hand and after closing the door, you followed them to the kitchen when they placed the bags on the kitchen counter. You stood beside Mingi who gave you a bright smile and started taking out the items from the bag. Your eyes were recognizing each little thing was your favorite as if they bought things for a child who was whining for all their favorites.
He grabbed the ice-cream bucket and turned towards you, “This was the last box and I quickly bought it for you. I hope you won't be angry with me again if I ever eat your snacks.” he took the flowers from your hand and tugged them in the vase on the counter top.
“Mingi..” You groaned but quickly took the tub from his hand. You wasted no time and opened the lid. You watched Yunho place some things inside your refrigerator but he approached you with a red box in his hand. You furrowed your brows when he placed it in your free hand.
“Chocolates for my cutie.”
When you noticed the ribbon on top of the box, your eyes went wide, “Don't tell me you went to that store to buy this. This is so expensive.”
“But you are more expensive.” He said and raised a brow at you, challenging.
You laughed at his antics and shook your head, “You both are spoiling me too much.”
“Of course. We love to spoil you.” Mingi said with a smug look.
Your couch had a lot of clothes and books so you asked them to follow you to your bedroom. They both were quick to trail behind like lost puppies but they exchanged looks because they both were hesitant to ask you about the time after returning from your hometown.
Entering your bedroom, they found out that it looked like as if some disaster happened over there. You were never that messy and disorganized. You rolled your eyes at the mess but offered them the free space around the bed.
You scooted towards the headboard and they placed themselves close to you. You offered some chocolates to both of them and you scooped a spoon full of ice cream and put it in your mouth.
“This will always be my favorite.” You offered two separate spoons to them and extended your hand so that they could eat the ice cream. They took small bites.
“So why are you here suddenly? You didn’t even inform me before coming.”
“Because you wouldn’t have allowed us to come here like other days.” Mingi muttered and kept staring at you. Hearing those words from him, you avoided his eyes at any cost and looked down at your lap. You were guilty but also the reasons for which you were avoiding them were running across your mind.
You bit your lip and wanted to disappear from their gazes. But Yunho scooted closer to you. You felt his knees touching yours and his warm hands grabbed your chin to make you look at him.
“Look at me, Y/n. What’s the matter?”
You avoided his gaze but only to make eye contact with Mingi. You closed your eyes and cursed yourself for behaving like this. But no matter how you feel like running away from them, you still want to stay close. You want to hear their soothing voices talking to you. Spend time with them.
“Y/n…” Mingi pronounced your name softly.
You took a deep breath before looking at him and then to Yunho. Your eyes wandered around his face. A perfect, sweet, soft and confident person in front of you. Excellent in every aspect. Good looking, handsome and tall just like Mingi but who is more intimidating than him.
Yunho’s eyes wandered around your face, he was searching for your discomfort, your sadness and what was the reason you were ignoring him and his friend.
“Am I really not good?” You asked him in a hushed voice. Your shaky pupils and lips between your teeth was making him hesitant.
Why was he feeling that? Is he worried or angry? Angry with you? Because you ignored him all these last days?
“Who said that? You are the best.” Mingi rubbed your back and your body shivered under his touch. Yunho cupped your face in his palms and stared at you, urging you to speak more, “Tell us please. Why were you avoiding us?”
“I didn’t avoid you. I was thinking…”
“You think a lot. What were you even thinking?” His thumbs caressed your cheeks, slightly brushing your lips. Your tears were lining your eyes. You didn’t mind crying in front of them, you have cried before since middle school until now, you have cried to both of them but they never judged you.
But his heart was aching to see you like that, so vulnerable in his hold. You held his wrists tightly when he gave you a small smile.
“I’m feeling insecure lately. Don’t feel like doing anything.”
“Why?”
“This break, I went to a family function with my parents and all my other cousins were present there too.”
Both of them nodded and let you continue. You bit your lower lip and stuck it between your lips.
“They pointed out to me how I have gained weight and also I’m just an average student in my university unlike others there. They were all too pretty and all had boyfriends so they called me the ugly one. Maybe, I am really how they see me.”
“No Y/n, you are not. Don’t take those words to heart. Ignore them.”
“But I can’t, Mingi. Those words are hitting me as if I can still hear them telling me those things repeatedly. You know what's worse about this. My mom laughed with them, she was supporting their accusations.”
“I never liked your mom.”
You turned to Yunho when he said that and you raised your brows, “She didn’t like you either. She always thought that you were a bad influence on me. But she just let me be friends with you only because you are rich.” Then again you turned towards Mingi, “About you, she thought you were some sort of rebellious kid like a gangster because she always saw teachers complaining to your parents regarding your fights.”
“It’s your fault. You are the one who threatened me not to tell your mom that those students were disturbing you so when they didn't stop. I knew I had to beat them.” Mingi smiled after recalling those beautiful memories.
He added, “And that’s how we became friends. Remember?” You nodded while remembering those happy days. Yunho was holding your hands in his and Mingi patted your head, “We missed you these days. You were not talking with us.”
“I was searching for a boyfriend.”
“Really?” He asked you and hesitantly looked between Mingi and you, you felt him squeezing your hands. You nodded but sighed again, “Kidding. I was…isolating myself.”
“Why am I like this?” You asked with a whisper.
“But who would ever love to have an ugly girl like me as their girlfriend?”
“Like what sweetie?” Yunho questioned. ”And don’t even question yourself. You are perfect.”
You took a few seconds, collecting your thoughts. Yunho and Mingi wait patiently, Yunho running a soft hand through your hair and with his other one entangling his fingers with you. You inhaled softly and lifted your head up to make eye contact with both of them. Your mind was hazy with lots of thoughts.
“I feel so pathetic. I feel like I can’t ever do anything correctly. Why do I feel like this? I get overwhelmed by little work and this college stuff. I can’t handle the gossip about me and I feel like I fail at everything. It’s just… too much.” A tear slid down your cheeks and Yunho looked at you with eyes that held so many emotions.
He would do absolutely anything for you, if only it meant it would guarantee your happiness. Mingi was the same, he would again beat anyone for you. He would go to any extreme end just to ensure your well being and that you are smiling.
After all, Mingi first fell for you on the day when he first beat a boy who was making fun of you in front of the whole class. You were crying and he had enough, so he punched the guy across his cheek but the way you stared at him after that, even when he was getting scolded from the teacher, that's when he couldn’t help but smile at you and you gave your bright and wide smile.
That smile did something to him.
He fell in love with you. But you both were just kids.
So, you both became best friends.
Yunho was a transfer student who was a shy and quiet one in the beginning. And somehow they both were placed at the same bench, they quickly became friends. He joined the dance club after exactly one year of friendship with Mingi. Yunho was quick to become a social butterfly. He knew everyone around the school, mostly because of his dance club membership.
But there was this one thing. Even though he got compliments from others, he always wanted to hear your comments on his dance moves and if you ever said just a word like ‘good’, he would smile foolishly as if he achieved something. After every performance, he would search for you in the audience and could find you clapping excitedly at him with Mingi beside you.
You didn't know but whenever you were not around both of them their main topic was about you. They used to talk about you with admiration and love towards you. This was the main reason for them to become friends. And they followed you to the same university.
And they still think about you like that everyday.
“Oh Y/n, you’re not pathetic. Not at all. Everyone has different capabilities, and that’s completely fine. You have so many talents, so many amazing people around you who appreciate you. And you are so beautiful. You’re our girl aren’t you? The only one for us.” Yunho looked at you expectantly with an adoration in his eyes.
There was a look of worry on their faces similar to whenever you felt sick and he would rush to your place to take care of you and soon after Mingi comes with medicines and food.
You looked away, not meeting his eyes but Mingi caught your eyes and raised a brow. You quickly replied, “Yes, yes I am.”
His breath hitched when you said those words while staring at him. Both of their hearts felt warm but there was something more, they wanted to say. Something that they think of now is the right time. Maybe…there's also uncertainty in the air.
He beamed with delight. “That’s right baby, you’re our girl, and always will be.” Mingi added to his friend's words, ”We’re here to take care of you. I know things are hard, but I will do whatever I can to make it easier for you.” Your heart aches from the care you’re being shown. You love your bestfriends so much.
You hold so much love and respect for them that you’re not sure how to even contain it. You just feel like exploding with affection. When you again felt like crying on the thought, Mingi pushed a spoon full of ice cream in your mouth, “The ice cream is melting like you.”
“Mingi…” you whined with teary eyes. They both laughed at you when you snatched the tub from him and placed it on your lap.
“Y/n, can I ask you something? Please don’t hate me or him after this. But I really want to tell you this. Can I?” He asked.
“Of course, Yuyu. you can tell me anything.” Mingi wiped your tears and you smiled towards him before turning your whole attention on Yunho. Your eyes eagerly waited for him to say whatever he wanted and he glanced at Mingi who nodded and looked back at you. Yunho again held your hands, squeezed them a little and brought them to his lips. These sweet gestures were common to you from him but you felt so nervous this time. Your heart beat increased with every second.
Is he going to end your friendship after this? Are they tired of your dramatic breakdowns?
“Will you be our girl, Y/n?”
You blinked at him and looked at them confused, “Am I not already?”
Mingi chuckled, “Not that silly. Will you be our girl? Our girlfriend?......Please.” he whispered the last part.
For a moment, you thought that they were joking but when you found them staring at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.
“Are you joking?”
“No…”
You quickly turned around and hugged Mingi, “Please tell me. This is not a joke.”
“It’s not.”
“Then, am I dreaming?”
“No silly, you are not.”
You raised your head from his shoulder, he was still moving his hands up and down your back, “Yunho calls me sweetie and you call me silly. This is not fair.”
And here you go.
Mingi cupped your face in his hand and pressed a soft kiss in the middle of your forehead and smiled dearly at you, “You are my silly girl. My silly…only mine.”
Yunho rolled his eyes, “Don't gatekeeper her to yourself. We agreed to mutual this between us. I said ‘our’ specifically but you are saying only yours.”
You looked between both of them and licked your lips before muttering slowly, “Are you pitying me?”
“Y/n…” Yunho called your name with love and held your hands before shaking his head, “we all are different in our own ways. And you are perfect for us. We have seen the imperfect you…the real you. We have seen the ugly versions of you and also the pretty versions of you. But we loved the unfiltered version. The version which felt like you were mine. You are mine.”
“Why do I feel like you are calling me ugly but in a sweet way?”
“Maybe I am.”
“Yuyu…” You hit his arm and continued, “I will ask Mingi to beat you.”
He scoffed, “He can't because he is too weak.”
The latter laughed when you stuck out a tongue at his friend.
“But……isn’t it wrong for both of you to love me? What will others think?”
“I don’t care about others. Are you uncomfortable with this? Say it, Y/n. Are you?”
You shook your head when Mingi turned your face to him, “We want to hear you. Say it please.”
“No. I’m not. I’m happy……I like both of you.” You muttered under your breath.
“What? I can’t hear you. Did you hear something, Yunho?” Mingi creased his forehead and asked his friend who pulled you on his lap and leaned your back on his chest and held both of your hands in front and rocked you in his hold. “No, Mingi I didn’t hear anything.”
“Yeah. because I didn't say anything.”
They both started laughing loudly when they saw you shyly looking down and Yunho rested his chin on top of your head, “But I love my sweet girl the most.” he placed a kiss and softly confessed, “I love you, Y/n.”
You held his hand and played with his fingers. You felt him nuzzling into your hair when you closed your eyes and smiled, “I love you too, Yunho.”
Mingi scooted closer, sitting in front of you he cupped your face and you quickly looked at his face expectantly when he confessed, “I love my silly girl. I love you so much, Y/n.”
“And I hate my snacks thief. I love you toooooo, Mingi.”
He chuckled and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and nose, filled with overwhelming love and care.
“Now come on, Y/n. I know you aren’t eating properly these days. So let’s eat the food we bought for you earlier.”
“ I don’t want to eat. I’m not hungry.” You smiled brightly and looked at them with a fake pout.“But thank you for all the love and care. I’m so full with it.”
“Uh uh, don’t give me that look. You’re eating, and that’s the end of this conversation.” He said in a stern voice before standing up. You crawled away from him when Mingi caught you in his arms and stood up holding you bridal style and heading to the kitchen, trailing behind Yunho who was singing your favorite song.
Mingi placed you at the table, letting you watch the other one prepare plates. You were swinging your legs back and forth, already feeling so much better and humming the song with him. Mingi went back into the bedroom and came back with the ice cream tub to put into the fridge and sat next to you. He joked and sometimes said some nonsense to make you laugh and you giggled uncontrollably.
He could see the little you laughing with him in the classroom.
“You are finally mine, Y/n. The girl I adored and loved for all these years. The girl whose smile I love the most is smiling at me and sitting with me not as a friend but as my girlfriend.” He held your hand and kissed your knuckles.
“I’m so happy that my bestfriend is my boyfriend and you are the one who can only annoy me and steal my snacks. Oh wait! You have to buy me more snacks now or I am breaking up with you.” You faked a shocked expression.
“Not sorry to disturb you but she is our girlfriend. My best supporter. Here comes the food.” Yunho swirled on his feet and placed the food dramatically on the table, having the silliest look on his face.
You screeched with laughter. “Yunho, my jealous baby.” He sat across from you and pushed the plates towards you both.
“Oh? Now I’m your baby. Last time I checked it was you who bought baby milk products. ” He grabbed his fork and pointed at you with squinted eyes as if he’s in deep thought. You let out a scoff at his antics and he raises an eyebrow at you, “I didn't. You were annoying me.”
“Oh…okay..now let’s talk less and eat more..”
You excitedly nodded and dug into the food. Their eyes followed your actions and they shared looks between them with little smiles appearing on their faces. They nodded towards each other and started eating the food with you.
And they promised to themselves that no matter what the situation is, they will always stay by your side. They still kept the friendship letter from you which you gave them for the first time during Christmas and they would always fulfill your wish.
‘Stay with me……always.’
Tumblr media
Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg
[open!]
205 notes · View notes
erwinsvow · 14 hours
Text
Tumblr media
“yeah, you want that one?” rafe asks you, while you browse through the dresses on the rack. the one you’ve picked out to show him is yellow gingham, with skinny straps and a bow on the neckline. you hold the dress to your chest, looking down to see where it’ll end on you. “i’ll get it for you.”
“hm…” you consider the idea for a moment, holding the dress out again to get a better look. “i don’t know. it’s pretty short.”
“since when is that a bad thing?” rafe moves his arm against the rack, manhandling the hanger from your hand and holding it against you himself. “think it’s perfect.” you laugh at your boyfriend’s antics.
“there has to be a reason to wear it, rafe. i don’t have any right now.”
“we’ll go to dinner. there’s your reason.”
“i have other dresses,” you decide finally, putting it back between the others.
“c’mon, just let me get it for you.” he follows you while you walk away and wander towards the jewelry section of the store. you look down at sparkling silver and shimmery gold, while rafe joins you and leans against the glass counter. “you want jewelry instead? that’s fine.”
“no, i’m just looking,” you insist again. “it’s called window shopping. ever heard of it? 
there’s pretty things in the case, a silver bracelet with little blue stones that particularly catches your eye since blue is your new favorite color, but you don’t really want anything, and you really don’t want rafe to buy it for you.
“no. just pick somethin’ out. my treat.” you glance up at rafe.
“for what? i haven’t done anything.” he laughs to himself, not necessarily at you, more because of you.
“i don’t need a reason.” he makes you flush, so you walk away again, this time to the shoes. you hold a pair of brown sandals in your hand, flipping them over to see the size.
“you already treated me, remember? you paid for lunch.” rafe grabs the shoes out of your hands too.
“that’s a meal, not a treat. want these?” he looks down at you, not even sparing a glance to the price tag. “c’mon.” you grab his wrist as fast as you can.
“no! no. i have some just like these. it’ll be a waste, i’ll never wear them.”
“are you bein’ serious or are you just sayin’ that?” damn it. you are just saying it, since you don’t want rafe spending his money on you. you lie to cover your tracks.
“serious. i’d never lie to you.”
you wrestle the shoes out of his hand, settling them back on the shelf. 
“fine. c’mon, we can go somewhere else.” you finally let him buy you an ice cream cone just so he’ll stop offering.
you try to explain to rafe that the reason you want to walk around is to look around and spend time with him, not to really buy things, but he’s hard to convince. 
rafe thinks you need to stop being so worried about what everyone will think. you’re still bad at it, trying to ignore that part of you that murmurs in your ear that people will judge you for all these nice, new things rafe wants to buy you. you think people will say you’re dating him for the money, but worse than that, you think people will say bad things about rafe, about his choice in dating you, if you ever make him buy you more than dinner or ice cream.
your hesitancy gets the best of you, and even though you’ve always had some nice things, being pampered by rafe feels inherently wrong, like you should at least make sure he knows he doesn’t need to buy you anything. lost in your own thoughts, you’ve rejected his offers countless times, and the only new, expensive thing he’s gotten you since you started dating is the R necklace you wear everyday. 
you think you’re good at hiding it, but you’re not. rafe sees right through you, and he knows what he’s going to do about it. 
later that week, rafe drops you off at home in the morning after you slept over. you still think he hates driving in the cut—as much as he denies it—but he refuses to let you bike back and forth to tannyhill. 
“i’ll pick you up for dinner.” he says, leaning across you to open the passenger side door. you flush like you always do, partly because he’s not asking, he’s telling.
you nod, and then wave bye from the window. he waits until you get inside to drive away, which makes you want to go scream into your pillow. you head into your room to do just that, but you’re greeted instead by bags and boxes littered across your bed.
you know what they are, even before you walk over on your wobbly knees and set aside the tissue paper, looking down with watery eyes all the things you had been admiring in the store the other day with rafe. you sit down next to them—the yellow dress, the pretty sandals, the glittery bracelet—and dial rafe’s number on your phone. you exhale shaky breaths while the line rings, but can’t hold back tears any longer when he answers.
“you didn’t have to do this,” you say quietly into the phone, biting your cheek. you try to blink away the new tears.
“do what?” you laugh, so rafe laughs too. 
“i…i feel bad when you buy me things.”
“i know. y’should stop that.”
“or you can stop first.”
“i’m never gonna stop.” you suck in a breath, heart thudding and feeling deliriously in love. “gonna come get you later. wear the new stuff, okay?”
“okay. i will.”
“that’s my girl.” you fall back and let your head hit the pillow.
Tumblr media
159 notes · View notes
chaoticace2005 · 1 day
Text
Spiders, their senses, and Angel Dust implications
I already screamed to @xxqueenofdragonsxx about this but figured I’d put it out there because I was doing research and I can’t stop thinking about it.
While we don’t know how canon it is to the show, this does have some implications for fanfics and is fun to consider.
Spiders don’t have ears. Or noses. Or tongues.
People have already made jokes about Angel’s lack of a nose, but it tracks with that fact. We also don’t see his ears, although we have seen his tongue (which, given he isn’t an actual spider there can be some allowances made.) Yes, he doesn’t have pedipalps to act as a substitution for his nose/tongue, but that isn’t the only place they can smell/taste things.
It’s their legs/feet(?). Their legs and bodies have sensory hair cells that allows them to detect vibrations in the air, as well as changes in electrical fields (which… Vox and Alastor implications? Can Angel sense them.) Humans hear via sensory hair cells too, but those are concentrated in the cochlea of the inner ear and surrounded by the outer/middle ear system (eardrum, etc.) Spiders don’t have that. They also have chemoreceptors that can smell and taste things.
Now, as someone who didn’t know much about spiders it’s cool to think about in terms of a character with some spider-like characteristics. But then I thought about this other aspect of Angel
His clothing
Tumblr media
More specifically his constant usage of gloves/long sleeves/boots. We know he hates his spider feet, and yeah, the usage of gloves and his blazer can be to fit his style, but it’s also fun to think that maybe him wearing them is an active attempt to reduce sensory input? He’d still get some vibration input because the fabric won’t block everything, but it won’t be as direct. But since spider sensory organs aren’t localized like humans are, this could essentially be the equivalent of wearing a headphones. (Also do you really want to taste every single thing you touch?)
Tumblr media
Which brings me to the second order of business: when he DOESNT wear his gloves. We do see him have to be bare for the camera, and if you consider him wearing clothes as a way of sensory modulation, he could essentially be forced to get all that input. Sensory overload would already be so ways in a place with so many sounds, lights, smells, etc. but imagine if you also have to do that when not used to such a level of exposure?
In humans there’s a condition called hyperacusis, which is basically a reduced pain and discomfort threshold to sounds. Some everyday ones can cause pain. Some neurodivergent people also have sensory sensitivities like that, in both cases sometimes headphones can help to reduce input.
The thing is though, if you constantly wear them you’re reducing your own threshold. It’s not recommended for people with hyperacusis to wear earplugs all the time because it makes them even more sensitive when not wearing them.
So, if you apply the same principle here, there is even more reason to consider the idea Angel would have some level of overstimulation just from not having his clothes on, combine that with the work environment, what he has to do, and the emotional turmoil of it all and that just makes it worse.
Which… with me anyways I’ve found when I’m too overloaded my brain tends to nope out and dissociate. So that could be what happens to Angel as well.
Then, there is one time outside of the studio we see him with uncovered arms and that’s the battle at the hotel.
Tumblr media
Here, he’s wearing gloves but his arms are exposed. So it could be said that he’s allowing himself access to more input while also not overwhelming himself. He still has a buffer with the gloves on, but he also has heightened awareness for things around him.
Again, the amount of this actually being applicable in canon is hard to say. Sense we don’t know how spidery Angel really is (since again, he does have a tongue) and what level of research went into that aspect of their character designs. But I think it’s a fun thing to consider.
So uhhh… yeah. Totally normal about this all as someone who totally isn’t interested in audiology, hyperfixating on hazbin hotel, and neurodivergent myself.
163 notes · View notes
aroplatonic · 2 days
Text
one of the main reasons I sought out a romantic relationship when I didn't actually have an interest in one myself, years ago, was because there's a sort of link in the queer community between being in a relationship and maturity, it seems. if you're gay/bi/etc and you want to be a real gay, you'd better be dating someone, otherwise you're seen as a loser virgin who doesn't actually know what the community is like. regardless if you have had relationships in the past, mature, grown-up gays are in relationships. mature gays get married. et cetera.
here's the thing, though. if you're gay and aspec in some way, or if you otherwise just don't want a relationship for your own reasons, that... doesn't actually make you any less gay. it doesn't mean you're waiting to find out what being gay is really like. it sounds silly to say but people need to be reminded of this. you're not less mature, you're not waiting to graduate to being a real gay. you're gay, dude.
156 notes · View notes
akutasoda · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
do you think you'd kill for me?
Tumblr media
synopsis - it was every basic troupe in a story for an officer to fall in love with the criminal but now gallagher knew why
includes - gallagher
warnings - gn!reader, reader is a criminal/stowaway, reader is cocky + flirtatious, slight mentions of hurting others + alcohol, written before gallagher comes out so maybe ooc, wc - 1.6k
a/n: had to write this for the best bloodhound, he's just being consuming my thoughts lately and i can't wait to pull for him
Tumblr media
a long drawn out sigh sounded throughout the empty office, overshadowed by the visitors steps as they turned heel and left. a faint squeak and drag of a chair soon accompanied as the remaining man stood up from his chair, he tousled and pulled at the magenta tie before his scarred hands hovered over the new report. the file lifted as he opened it unceremoniously and his eyes glossed over the details - another stowaway would be nothing new but this was the third report about the same stowaway in penacony.
gallagher really couldn't believe the nerve of some people, first they slip into the dream world unnoticed and now they dared mess with the dream world - if he wasn't so dedicated to his job he'd probably quit and become a full time bartender. low footsteps as he crossed the room after he reasoned with himself that it'd be better for everyone if he solved the issue sooner rather than later. the only outstanding issue was that nobody had ever seen the stowaway so he didn't exactly know who he was looking for but maybe that was the reason he was assigned the case.
~~~
the streets were bustling as always, it was always golden hour afterall. the skyline was rather beautiful and the chimes of the clock on the grand hotel held absolute power over the noise of the streets. pepeshi's, couples, workers, singers, and all other kinds of people walked past you completely unaware of who you were - you were even cocky enough to smile at the young bloodhounds that looked you're way.
to you breaking into penacony's oh so famous dreamscape was a challenge you set yourself. they said all you dreams could come true here and maybe you twisted that a little to see truly how much you could get away with, surely you weren't the only person wanting to act on some intrusive thoughts and test the limits of what dreams could come true. it was petty crimes to begin with really, you meant no harm. originally you just wanted to steal from a few places but unfortunately bystanders sometimes got in the way - they weren't hurt too badly, you didn't want that.
eventually you started realising how dark this dream could be, especially when you first accidentally slipped into a deeper level of the dream after trying to run from the bloodhounds. quickly, you realised that this could happen to any unsuspecting guest of penacony. a part of you thought that naybe you could put your skills to use and redeem the harm you did to someone by saving unsuspecting penacony visitors, but for the most part you kept to yourself and your slightly warped ideas.
throughout you're entire time as a stowaway you'd become quite acquainted with various bloodhounds, even though they had no clue who you were. cockiness had also developed inside you when you realised that they genuinely held no leads towards yourself and your biggest risk was when you joined some bloodhounds in a small bar and talked to them like you'd known them for years. although at that bar you're attention was dragged towards the older bloodhound behind the counter, you could tell by the little broach on his grey suit - you turned to your new 'friends' and asked them who he was, they had no idea apparently.
gallagher could catch your keen gaze staring at him for most of the night, especially because you were sat right at the bar with two bloodhounds. he'd never seen you before and maybe it was the alcohol, from his own personal flask, talking but he felt more inclined to amuse your curiosity. he served the newer customers before walking back over to you and started witha gruff 'you fetching for a new drink? or you got a question for me?' you simply smiled at his question before the corners of your lips quirked up slightly as you responded along the lines of 'can a paying patron not appreciate the bartender in his glory?'
if the bloodhound was being honest, your curiousty and outright flirtatious remarks only spurred him to entertain you more. 'how about i mix you up a new drink there, running a bit low aren't we?' he looked you straught in the eyes when you glanced back up from your drink and watched as you slid the empty, ornate glass toward him with a simple 'surprise me'. you watched attentively while he turned to grab a few bottles before grabbing the silver cocktail shaker and pouring in a mix, perfectly measured without needing to even measure numerically. gallagher had mixed drinks for patrons plenty of times but with your inquisitive gaze fixed upon his every moment made him gulp a couple more times as he became very conscious about each move he made.
eventually he finished his show by spinning the shaker in his hand before graciously pouring it out into your glass. placing a small decorative cocktail stick inside and sliding it back with a weary smirk 'a special drink for a special patron then'. you took the glass in your hands and raised it in a toasting motion before taking a swig.
gallagher would tend to the rest of the bar's patrons for the rest of the night but could always feel your gaze on him and perhaps he put on more of a show because of this, but who knows? his eyes trailed you when you finally left and he looked back over to where you had been sat to notice a small pile. a very generous tip layed neatly on rhe bar but what caught his attention the most was the note left on top:
'a tip befitting the handsome bartender who served me tonight'
beneath was signed your initials. he quickly pocketed the note before picking up the tip but not before doubling a look at the money itself.
~~~
they probably assigned him this case because they knew he knew something the rest of the bloodhound's didn't. he knew exactly who the stowaway was and where to find them. you seemed to always know when gallagher had a shift at the local bar because he knew you only showed up on those nights. each time went the same, he'd entertain your antics, you'd both pass equally flirtatious remarks, he'd make you a new drink and then you'd leave - always leaving a generous tip.
the first time you left a tip he stared at it for too long not to notice the serial number. it had become all too convenient for his encounters with you to be after a robbery in penacony and it was even more convenient that you'd left a tip each time with that places serial number on the money. admittedly, it took him a while to piece it together but maybe that was because he didn't want to believe it. the final nail in the coffin, so to speak, was when you left a note at your most recent encounter reading -
'i think you and me both know this cat and mouse game will end eventually right?'
to anyone, they might of assumed it was a weird way of asking the other out but he knew what it meant and that's why he went to the location you detailed on the other side. you knew exactly what you were doing from day one, both of you knew that. he stayed stationed at the spot you named akd he waited on guard for any signs of you, while doing so he felt a weird sense of excitement bubble inside of him. the area was rather secluded so if you showed up he'd know right whe-
'my my, the handsome bloodhound has taken up my offer. i feel rather flattered', your smug voice rang through his ears and he immediately turned around. he was greeted by the sight of you sat upon the roof of the building with that all too familiar smug face. 'are we finally cutting to the chase?' your face tilted slightly to the side before you continued 'or do you not have the confidence to be able to catch me bartender?'
oh how he hated that smug grin of yours, but oh how he loved it all the same. a small, deep chuckle left his lips before retorting 'i only gave you a headstart stowaway, don't go wasting it' he watched you stand up as you added 'don't lie to yourself gal, we both know you wouldn't catch me, because i've already made a special place for myself in your heart and you couldn't dream of putting me behind bars'
you were right. it was against the law and so so corny for the law to fall in love with the criminal. but here he was, and you both knew all too well.
Tumblr media
116 notes · View notes
schemmentis · 2 days
Text
Like I Can - Pt. 3
Pt. 1 / Pt. 2
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1.7k
Tumblr media
You see more of Melissa in the weeks after your one night stand. Not quite as much as the beginning of your friendship, when you saw her without fail every weeknd. Still, more than the near nothing you’d been growing reluctantly used to.
You still spend more time with Barbara than your favorite redhead, but you’re pleasantly surprised on the evenings that she joins both of you. It’s one of those surprise evenings where she surprises you further.
You’re already at a table at one of your favorite restaurants across from Barb when Melissa strides to the table, apologizing for being late. Like every other time she’s suddenly joined you, you only smile and say you’re glad she’s there. You are. It’s been much nicer to see her and know what’s going on from her than through Barbara.
Occasionally, you feel the knife stab you a little deeper beneath your chest. When she’s laughing. When she’s loose and carefree in a way you know she only really is with you and Barb. Still, you’re never upset to see her and you aren’t disappointed by her appearance tonight.
You’re all nearly through your meals when Melissa snaps her fingers like she’s forgotten something. “Barb, the kids mentioned game night next weekend. You think Gerald will forgive you for missing one Saturday night?”
Good-naturedly, Barbara’s eyes are rolling. “It is a Saturday night tonight.” She points out with a look your way that is meant to convey exasperation. Except you know Barb is very rarely actually so fed up with Melissa. You’re the same way. “I assume you’re hosting?”
“Well, I ain’t goin’ to Janine’s, that’s for sure.”
“Oh, the other teachers.” You laugh slightly. “You said kids. I thought you were going to have all your little students running around for a second.”
“Oh god, no. You know I love my little eagles but they ain’t comin’ to my house that’s for sure. Janine is lucky she gets to.”
“Melissa!” Barbara chastises. Or, she tries to. Except you’re laughing and Melissa is smiling at you. It doesn’t really land. 
“Hey, you should come, Y/N.”
“Me?” You scoff, waving Melissa’s invitation off. “Come on, I’m not going to get in the way of your teacher bonding time.”
“You wouldn’t be in the way. ‘Sides they’d like you.”
“You just want me there so you can have me on your team and guarantee you win.”
“Maybe! It ain’t my fault Barb has us on a losing streak!”
“I do not!” Barbara protests from across the table. 
You sigh, pretending to think it over. You are tempted. More time with Melissa is hardly anything you’d say no to. Still, you’re hesitant. These are the people she sees every day. You’ve heard a little when Melissa tells you about her days and what’s gone on but that’s hardly the same as meeting these people. And then spending an evening in Melissa’s living room with them. In competitive mode over games on top.
“Alright, I’ll come but Barb has to be on our team, too. She’s better at trivia than you, Mel.”
Melissa pretends to be offended, a hand to her chest at your trivia comment. “I won trivial pursuit the last game night we had, thank you very much.”
“Did you sneak in extra sports questions?”
“No! I did win on one though…”
“Of course you did, Mel. Just text me when to be there.”
By the time Melissa texts you about game night and what time; you’d nearly forgotten you agreed to go. You don’t panic though. For some reason, knowing both Melissa and Barbara will be there, you aren’t nervous to meet the others. It might help that you know Melissa doesn’t just let people into her house. Not easily at any rate.
Once you’re stepping into Melissa’s living room, Barb has already beaten you there. Not the others. You would guess having those she’s most comfortable around here first makes inviting the others a touch easier. You barely say hello before she’s handing you a cold beer from the fridge.
The others trickle in over the next half hour. You understand now all the little comments Melissa has made about them as you meet them and the small chit chat that ensues as each of them arrive. Janine is sweet but definitely too peppy for Melissa. You suddenly understand each time Melissa said she would keep coffee as far away from the younger teacher as possible.
“Traitor!” Melissa teases when you pair up with Barb one game. You merely roll your eyes at her, it’s a two person team rule and she’d been claimed by Jacob for that game. Otherwise you probably would have picked her yourself.
You find yourself sprawled across Melissa’s couch. Barb had been the first to leave that night, as you expected. She wasn’t one for late nights in the entire time you’d known her. The others had stuck around a bit longer. Now, it’s just you and Melissa.
The two of you had mostly cleaned up her living room, ignoring some of the empty bottles and other drinks. Now, her television is on. It’s playing one of the reality shows Melissa loves that you don’t pay much attention to. Though you’re learning them and the drama in them through osmosis. 
You’re next to Melissa, your legs stretched over her lap. Your thighs rest in her lap more than your legs or feet. One of her hands is idly messing with your hair as she watches the screen. You don’t remember how this is how you two ended up but you aren’t complaining at all. It’s perhaps the most content and safe you’ve felt in a long time. You struggle to remember when you last did.
“Hon?”
Melissa’s soft voice calling to you has you blinking. You’re almost worried you fell asleep. You may be on your way but as your eyes refocus on the television screen you realize it’s still the scene you last remember so you couldn’t have fallen asleep just yet. You likely won’t be awake much longer though.
“Hm?” You wordlessly answer her. Her fingers are gently rubbing a mindless pattern at your temple.
“You gonna see that woman again? The one from a couple weeks ago?”
You blink at the television set, your half awake brain slowly turning over her question. “No.” You finally answer. You’re too tired to be worried about what the right thing to say is. Too tired to be worried about how you sound, or accidentally saying something will tip the redhead off to your feelings.
“You didn’t like her?”
“She was fine.”
Melissa laughs, just a little. “Fine. Yeah, that’s how you said she was in bed, too.”
“Mel…” You groan. You trail off, letting your tone and the following silence convey your plead for her to not get started on that again.
“You just…deserve better is all.” Melissa finally says softly.
“Yeah, and you deserve better than Gary.” You grumble in response.
Her fingers stop their movement against your temple. You feel her freeze beneath your thighs still draped over her lap. You go to sit up but her hand presses lightly to your shoulder to keep you in place.
“What’d you say?”
“Melissa…”
“No, no. Say it again. What you said.” Melissa urges. Her hand is still lightly pressing into your shoulder still. 
“I said you deserve better than Gary.” You repeat quietly.
“You never liked him.” She says. Definitively. Just like she did after you first met him. She knew then. She knows now.
“He’s fine.”
Melissa laughs. Enough that her head throws back against the back of the couch. She tips her head forward again. Her smile touches her eyes when they refocus on you. “Fine is what you say when you’re tryin’ to be polite, ain’t it? Gary is fine. Your girl from a few weeks ago is fine. You really wanna say they kind of suck, don’t you?”
“No! She really was fine. I told you I’m not really interested in the one night stands and all.”
“And Gary?”
“Gary is…you like him.”
“He’s fine.” Melissa says with a small smirk down at you. “How do you feel ‘bout him though? Don’t worry about sparing my feelings, Hon. I wanna know.”
“He’s nice enough. I might like him if he weren’t dating you.”
“What’s him dating me got to do with it?”
You sigh. “Melissa. You could do better than Gary. You could have any guy you wanted, in a heartbeat. I know Joe, bein’ Joe, made you think differently. I watched him hurt you plenty of times while you tried to work things out, and then through the divorce process. You don’t have to settle for just a….nice enough guy.”
“Any guy I wanted, huh?”
“In a heartbeat.” You repeat.
“What if I didn’t want a guy?”
You blink up at Melissa. In the time you’d known her she’d ever spoken about men, gone out with men. You hadn’t even considered her with a woman. Even though that little bit of hope in your heart for it still lived on with your feelings for her. Still, you’d never even entertained it being possible with how much you’d seen her with men. 
“I…wouldn’t have expected you to be into women, I guess.” You finally stammer out. 
“Why not?”
“You never talk about women. I’ve seen you pick up plenty of guys at the bar. Then of course Joe and Gary.”
“I experimented in college. Like a lot of people do.” Melissa shrugs. “I lean toward men, usually heavily, but I wouldn’t call myself straight.”
“You did once tell me if Barb wasn’t with Gerald you’d make her a Schemmenti.”
She laughs again, nodding. “In another life, absolutely.” Melissa doesn’t hesitate in backing up that drunken comment she made to you forever ago. “So, you think I could get a woman?”
“In a heartbeat.” You breathe out the repetition. You know for certain Melissa could land a woman just as easily as she could a man; or anyone for that matter.
“And if I had a specific woman in mind?”
“Do you? Have a specific woman in mind?”
Melissa only looks at you for a long, drawn out moment. You have half a mind she’s memorizing your face for some reason you don’t know. “I think it would take a specific one, for me, personally, y’know? Like you said…no secret I like men but if a certain woman got to my heart and all…”
“What are you saying, Melissa?”
“I’m saying…I’m saying we both deserve better, Y/N. We both deserve better and I…I wanna be the better you deserve.” Her fingers brush at the small hair near your temple tenderly. “You’re the woman I want.”
111 notes · View notes
thepixelelf · 2 days
Text
and the universe said,
Tumblr media
07 - "bro, chill"
genres/tags: soulmate au, idol au, comedy, romance, dumbassery relationship(s): ot13 x reader chapter warnings: coarse language. kithing. a liiitle svt on svt violence note: ik it's been a long time please be nice to me <3 (this isn't edited... I'll take a look at it when I have the time)
When soulmates are suddenly thrust upon the world, you are one in a million who wishes they weren’t – and that’s before you meet the person (people?!) making your life much harder than it needs to be. And before someone asks you to sign an NDA.
series masterlist
prev ⭒ chapter seven (4.0k) ⭒ next
Tumblr media
“Where are they?” Myungjun asks as soon as Jihoon and Junhui enter the room they agreed upon.
Junhui braces both of his arms on the back of a chair. “What do you mean?”
“Your soulmate—” Cutting himself off with a sigh, Myungjun pinches the bridge of his nose and answers his own question. “You didn’t bring them.”
Yejung, who was sitting at a table with her laptop, shuts it with a frown. “Why not?”
Junhui shrugs. “I’m just here because Jihoon dragged me out.” He shifts between looking at the three other people in the room. “You guys know I just met my soulmate, right? I don’t like not having them here with me, either.”
“Well then why didn’t you—”
“They don’t know.” Jihoon cuts off Myungjun’s words, then pulls out a chair and drops himself in it. He stares at a random spot on the table. When he doesn’t elaborate any further, Yejung sends a furtive glance Myungjun’s way.
“Don’t know…” She leans her forearms on the table and scoots her chair closer. “...what? That you’re their soulmate? That there’s more than one of you? That you’re famous?”
Junhui snorts. “All of the above?”
At Junhui's quip and Jihoon's continued silence, Myungjun raises a cynical brow.
"You didn't tell them?" Yejung asks, softly shocked. "Why?"
Junhui's eyes skirt to Jihoon; he's unwilling to share his own reasons, though he doesn't quite understand this about himself, either.
Jihoon sighs. "I don't know. It's complicated. Things happened too fast the first time we—"
"The first time?" Myungjun echoes. "So you've been with them multiple times."
“Don’t say it like that.” Jihoon almost pouts, but the facial expression just makes him look angry. “Look. I ran into them when the vocal team was on the way to that radio show. We’d stopped by a cafe and there wasn’t much time and I was so out of my mind that I—” He cuts himself off. “It doesn’t matter. I got their number, and then they left. I asked to meet today and we did. Jun was already there for…” With his arms crossed, Jihoon looks over at Junhui, remembering that he still doesn’t really know what Junhui was doing at the same cafe you apparently frequent. Is this the same cat cafe Junhui is always talking about? “…some reason. Then someone started singing, and they told us their soulmate is stupid and annoying because their mark…”
“It’s not like ours,” Junhui finishes for Jihoon, though this only deepens the confusion written on Yejung and Myungjun’s faces.
“If it's not like yours, then how do you know they're your—”
“It's them, Hyung.” Jihoon can't help noticing the hopelessness in his own voice. It's you. He knows it's you.
But you don't know it's them— him.
And he's not sure you want to know.
“Their mark, like, grows,” Junhui explains. “Ours just stay on our hands, but when one of us sings, the notes go all over their arms and neck. Maybe other places — I don’t know — but they obviously don’t think it’s either of us since we weren’t singing when their mark did its thing.”
“So…” Myungjun crosses his arms and taps his finger on his bicep. “They don't like their mark.”
Junhui doesn't nod right away, but he does eventually.
Myungjun turns to Jihoon. “And you think that means they don't like you.”
Groaning and rubbing his hands over his face, Jihoon doesn't dignify that with a response. “Even if they did like their mark, it’s an insane situation. Thirteen soulmates? They’re gonna run for the hills when they find out.”
“That’s not necessarily true,” Yejung says, to which Jihoon gives her a dry look and Junhui’s eyes light up. She clears her throat. “We just need to find a way to calmly inform them of the situation — preferably in a safe, comfortable environment.”
Myungjun recognizes a Yejung Game Plan brewing when he sees it. “Basically, what she’s saying is…”
“Let me talk to them.” Yejung opens her laptop again and begins typing away. “We just need to go about this in a calm, logical manner.” She gives a little nonchalant wave of her hand. “This’ll be easier than a design meeting.”
You’re sitting on the floor of your apartment, arms crossed, legs too, as you stare down at the shiny black credit card lying there between you and Heejun. His position mirrors yours, head tilted while he studies the card.
“It could be fake,” you say. Your knee bounces up and down, up and down.
Heejun lifts his head to give you a look. “Why would it be fake?”
“He said he doesn’t believe in banks.”
“It doesn’t look fake.” Heejun reaches out and takes the card, flipping it over in his fingers to read the back. “Looks like any other credit card. We should test it.”
You frown. “How?”
“Uh,” Heejun speaks like the answer is obvious. “Buy something?”
Okay, it is obvious, but the idea doesn’t sit too well with you. “Isn’t that stealing?”
“He gave you the card.”
“Yeah, but the police don’t know that,” you argue. “If I got charged for fraud, it would be his word against mine— no one would believe coffee guy just handed me his black card.”
Without moving his head, Heejun glances up from the card to look at you. "Why would he lie?"
"Um, because he already has? Who knows— maybe this card is connected to illicit activities and he planted it on me to implicate me."
“Which he would do because…?”
You throw your hands up in the air, then let them drop emphatically at your side. “I don’t know! Why did he do any of what he did?”
He raises a brow. “Because he’s a weirdo who likes you?”
“Okay but have you ever given your credit card to a person you’ve only met twice?”
Heejun’s shoulders rise in a shrug. “I’ve wanted to.”
“Seriously?” You can’t imagine your friend going that gaga over a crush, but then again, there was that girl in fourth grade whom he gave all his choco pies to. Heejun loves choco pies.
“Mine would decline though. It wouldn’t exactly impress.”
You lightly shove his shoulder. “Oh come on, it wouldn’t decline.”
“It would if they went over the limit. People only give people their credit cards for expensive stuff. You know that, right?”
The black card gleams up at you, almost tauntingly.
“Expensive stuff like what?”
He shrugs again. “Like a car?”
“You’ve been watching too many CEO dramas.” You exhale and place both hands on the floor with a pointed slam. Standing, you pick the credit card up and brush imaginary dirt off your pants.
“You won’t be so sarcastic when Park Seojoon tells you to keep that thing.”
You roll your eyes as you toss the card into the same trinket dish you keep your keys and other miscellaneous things in. “Isn’t that guy like six foot?”
“So was Huijun,” he counters.
“So are you. Is that all it takes to be a CEO nowadays?” you joke, pulling out your phone. “Height?”
Heejun scoffs, then frames his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “That and my devilish good looks.”
“Please.” You tap on a notification from an unknown number. “If that were true, you’d be the one handing out black…cards…”
At the way you trail off, Heejun furrows his brow and walks over to you. “What’s up? Did you fall for another online scam?”
Not this again. “Okay, first of all, that was not a scam, and I did not fall for it—”
“You didn’t fall for a not scam?”
“Shut up. What do you think this means?” You turn your phone towards him, and he takes it from your unsteady hand.
He reads aloud. “‘Hello, this is Shin Yejung of Pledis Entertainment.’ Did you apply there?”
“No,” you say, then shake your head and wave your hand. “I mean. I don’t know. Maybe. I applied to like five hundred places. But this isn’t that. Keep reading.”
Heejun takes a breath and starts reading like he’s holding a new edict. “‘It has come to my attention that you are in possession of one of my coworker’s bank cards.’ Oooooh, you’re in trouble.” He drags out the last syllable. “‘Please meet me at…’ whatever building, numbers numbers numbers… ‘so I can retrieve it. Please reply to this number for more information, and thank you for your time.’ Hm.”
“What do you think… am I getting arrested?”
Lowering your phone, Heejun gives you a seriously? look over it. “The cops are texting criminals now?”
“So you agree I’m a criminal.”
“You get annoying when you’re nervous, you know that?” When you roll your eyes, Heejun mirrors the expression and pokes your forehead long enough that he pushes you backward. “Look bub, you wanted to give the stupid thing back without using it, and now the opportunity has been handed right to you.” He waves your phone in the air like evidence. “The only question is why coffee guy didn’t just text you himself.”
You cross your arms. “Maybe he doesn’t like me as much as you thought.”
“One more self-deprecating comment out of you and I’m posting those pictures from your twentieth birthday.”
A gasp wrenches from your throat. “You wouldn’t!”
Joshua Hong doesn’t think he has that many unread messages on his phone.
He looks down.
Oof. 682.
Well, it’s not his worst.
Notifications fly by at the top of his screen.
[vernon] where is this guy
[chan] hyung this is important!!
[wonwoo] when have we known that guy to answer anything
[soonyoung] someone text yejung!!
It’s probably not that important, whoever they’re talking about. His members are likely just freaking out over this whole soulmate thing again.
Joshua lifts his hand and stares at his weird, natural — supernatural — tattoo. He still can’t bring himself to believe it.
Soulmates? Really? In this economy? This isn’t Tumblr.
At least… Joshua looks around the dance practice room… He’s pretty sure this isn’t Tumblr.
His phone rings, which is weird since he always has it on silent. Sliding the answer button, he brings the phone up to his ear. “Yejung?”
“Where are you?”
“The practice room,” Joshua answers plainly. “Isn’t this where we’re supposed to be today?”
Yejung sighs on the other end of the line. “I said in the group chat that we were dealing with soulmate stuff. Upstairs.”
Ah, so that’s what has everyone in a tizzy. “Alright, okay. Where am I going?”
“Room eight-thirteen—” He hangs up and starts to pack his things before Yejung can say, “Wait, no, nine-thirteen. We'll start when you arrive. Joshua? Hello?”
You check your phone for what must be upwards of the fifth time.
Yup, Shin Yejung of Pledis Entertainment definitely told you to meet her in room 813, and yet here you are. In room 813. Alone.
You shift on the leather couch. It’s a lounge-like room you’re in. You don’t really understand the purpose of such a room in an entertainment company, but whatever. You’re only here to return something you never should’ve had in the first place.
Although…
You turn the card over in your hand, watching the way the fancy lighting bounces off of it.
Why would Jihoon give it to you if he was just going to get it back like this?
Also, now that you really think about it, Jihoon did say something weird when he left yesterday with Huijun. Something about not letting “the rest” scare you off. Whatever that means.
The rest of what?
Or… whom?
You know Jihoon must work for the company in some capacity. The fact that both he and Huijun were wearing masks makes you think they could be artists…
Oh. Duh. Why didn’t you think of this earlier?
Switching apps, you tap the search bar and start typing. Just as you’re done with the last character of Jihoon HYBE, the door you entered through opens. You hastily slip your phone into your back pocket as you stand to greet the person coming in.
“Hello, you must be…” Your eyes scan over his face. He’s… delicate looking, until you move your gaze downwards a little, and his broad shoulders and thick arms are decidedly not delicate looking. “…Shin Yejung?”
You tilt your head. With no mask on the lower half of his face, he seems familiar. Now this guy must be an idol — you probably saw him on the walls when you were making your way through this maze of a building. 
He just raises a brow. “Who are you?”
“Oh, uh…” You stay standing in front of the couch as he approaches you, his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m just here to return this.” Lifting the black card up, you hold it out between you and the man. “It’s Jihoon’s.”
“Jihoon’s?” he echoes, then moves to take the card from you, pinched between his thumb and forefinger. 
You both see it at the same time.
His mark, five black lines, clear as day.
Yours, peeking out from where your sleeve is pulled halfway up your hand.
You look up from your not-really-joined hands, then look down again.
No fucking way. 
“Twinkle twinkle, little—” The notes, whatever they are, dance across his mark.
No fucking way. 
You meet his eyes. “...Songbird?”
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. A few too many seconds.
Then, “So it’s you.”
“Holy—!”
At the same time as you try to jerk away, he attempts to turn your hand over and get a better look. Neither plan really works out. You stumble backwards, and with your hand in his, he gets pulled down with you onto the couch. His free hand shoots out to keep himself from slamming into you, but, persistent as the universe is, your faces end up very freaking close to each other anyway. Warmth from his knee on the couch cushion next to your thigh seeps through your clothing.
He doesn’t move. You don’t either.
For some reason, you feel stuck in place. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but… you just feel like you should be exactly where you are.
You’re almost too close to make real eye contact, so you just watch the way his eyes study yours.
“Songbird?” you whisper, though you have no idea what you’re trying to ask.
He stops analyzing you and finally looks at you. “Yeah?”
“…Are you leaning towards me on purpose?”
His lips (since when were you looking at those?) curl down at the corners. “Are you?”
Slowly, like your mind is trying to catch up to your body, you shake your head. “No…”
He drifts closer. Or you do. Or you both do.
Or something.
Your lips brush over his, and your feel just as much as you hear him whisper. “Then neither am I.”
In the span of a second, his free hand moves from the back of the couch to cradle your jaw, his thumb grazing gently just under your ear. He kisses you, lips moving over yours in a way you’ve felt before, but also in a way you’ve never felt before.
It’s strange.
Not bad strange, but strange in the way that it feels like you’ve just put the last of the groceries in the fridge. It’s like folding that final piece of laundry. Like coming home to the bed you made when you left in the morning.
It’s… satisfactory?
But that’s not the word people normally use when they think of putting their tongue in someone else’s mouth, right?
You’re running out of breath, but Songbird is insistent, and so are his lips, which you find yourself unable to get enough of. He pulls back for half a breath, registers your kiss me again or so help me facial expression, and dives right back in. He’s kissing you and you’re kissing him and you’re soulmates and…
Wait.
Soulmates?
“Wait,” you say, though it comes out more like, “Mmaem” Climbing both your hands up his — whoa — strong arms, you cup his cheeks in preparation to push him away, but he seems to like your touch. He covers the back of one of your hands with his warm palm, and he hums in a way that is not PG-13.
The sound has you melting, unfortunately.
Not for long though.
He’s ripped from you just as quickly as he fell onto you, pulled back by some guy with fluffy black hair, cozy attire head to toe, and… shit, a you’re in trouble glare the likes of which you’ve never seen before. He’s not even looking at you, yet you feel scolded.
“Yah!” he yells at your soulmate, who’s now on the floor. Then, after glancing at you for half a second and apparently finding zero more words to say, he shouts at him again. “Yah!”
Your soulmate opens his mouth, but then he turns to look at the now-open door, which leads you to do the same. A mob of prettyboys stands just outside, some with their jaws dropped and some looking like murder just got legalized and they’re on the prowl.
Someone’s despondent voice shouts, “Hyung!”
You feel like hiding under a blanket. Before your flight instinct kicks in, though, you recognize two familiar faces. “Jihoon?” His eyes meet yours when you say his name. “Huijun?”
One of the many boys among those you don't recognize echoes, “Huijun?” while sending him a weird look.
Someone pushes through the crowd — more like slinks through, occasionally nudging one of the other guys out of the way. His eyes stay firmly on you as he approaches, but you find no fear rising despite that. For some unknown reason, even as this completely unfamiliar man strides over to you with a frankly alarming amount of eye contact, you feel… safe.
Or at least, something close to it.
He kneels in front of where you're still seated on the leather couch, hand resting mere centimetres from leg. “Are you okay?” he asks, voice slightly nasal, but so, so gentle. 
“Uhh…” Self conscious, you wipe at the corner of your mouth with your sleeve. You spot your soulmate catch you doing so, and a look of hurt crosses his face. His own reaction, though, seems to startle him, and his hand rises to gently prod his shiny bottom lip with one of his fingers. He looks confused.
Well, that makes two of you.
Taking in the man right in front of you — pretty, lithe, concerned for you despite his unfamiliarity — you fail to answer his question. “Are… you Shin Yejung?”
He lets out a laugh, relieved, maybe, that you're not not okay. “Jeonghan,” he says simply.
You nod. “Jeonghan.”
At your voice echoing his name, the man’s eyes light up. “Yes?”
“Oh, uh…” You weren’t trying to call on him for anything, but as you study his gaze, you find yourself lost in his confident ease. Something in his eyes says that he knew this would happen.
Maybe not this, exactly — your soulmate has found a spot on the floor and has not stopped staring at it, while the rest of the strangers are still watching you — but taking up the same space as you, facing you, smiling at you with a soft quirk at the corners of his lips.
“Ugh!” A woman’s exasperated voice makes you look up at the crowd by the door. “Get— out of the way, you… ugh—” She breaks through, pushing aside a tall guy who looks like he’s about to cry. “—you men!”
Stumbling to her feet, she rights herself and brushes her bangs out of her face with a huff. “Now, what is—” She spots your soulmate still on his ass and mutters something you’re pretty sure can’t be aired on any broadcasting network. “...my life.”
Your eyes meet hers as she takes another breath. “Please tell me you’re Shin Yejung.”
“Yes, we spoke over the phone.”
“Thank god.” Shaking off all the weird feelings you’d accumulated in the last — what? Two minutes? — you stand from the couch and sidestep Jeonghan. The black card fell at some point during that lapse of judgement (aka kiss), so you swipe it up off the floor and hold it out to her with no preamble. “I swear I’m not a stalker fan or anything. And I didn’t use it, so…”
You glance over at Jihoon, whose expression gives off an oncoming panic. Is he scared to see you? Why? Huijun looks just fine, happy even, with you here. You can practically hear the ‘hello’ he wants to say out loud.
You clear your throat. “Anyway, um. I didn’t mean to, uh…” As you nervously cross your arms, you nod towards your soulmate. “I’m his— I mean, we are… sorry. This is… I wasn’t exactly expecting to find the person who’s…”
Maybe you shouldn’t say you’ve been annoyed by your soulmate since you got your stupid mark. At least not while he’s in the room.
“That’s actually what I brought you here to talk about,” Shin Yejung tells you, a bit like a doctor who’s about to deliver the bad news first. She doesn’t even take the card from you. “Would you like to take a seat?”
You scrunch your eyes shut for a second with a little shake of your head, trying to manual reset your brain because clearly it’s still muddled. “Sorry, what? You want to talk about…?”
The mob of men in the room get hidden from your vision as Yejung strategically places herself between them and you. “Soulmates,” she says.
You look down at the black card, then back up at her again. “Soulmates.”
“Yes. Your soulmates. I was hoping to talk to you alone first.” She sends a pointed look at the men behind her. “But it’s not exactly easy to get these guys to lis—”
“Sorry.” You wave a hand in the air to get her to stop, unable to comprehend any of her words after— “Did you say my soulmates? As in… mates, multiple? Mates with an S at the end? I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
Remaining calm while your mind spins, Yejung nods. “I know this is a lot to take in.”
“Know what is a lot to take in?”
Yejung opens her mouth to answer, but a voice blurts out behind her, “We’re your soulmates!”
Maybe you haven’t known him long enough or talked to him that many times, but you recognize Jihoon’s voice, and something in your gut suddenly grows sharp. Not painful, but begging for you to feel it. Yejung shifts so your field of view is once again filled by men too pretty to be all in the same room. Jihoon’s standing there, fists clenched at his sides, out of breath for no discernable reason other than…
We’re your soulmates.
Seeing your hesitation, Jihoon huffs and tears a bandaid you never really noticed off the back of his right hand. Even before he completes the motion, you know what must be under the bandage. He holds his hand up, though, and the evidence is very near damning.
Next to him, Huijun smiles and lifts his arm, pointing to his own five lines with his opposite hand. 
Most of the guys behind them show you the same thing. Five lines on the smooth backs of their hands, near the base of the thumb. Dear lord, you don’t even know how many of them there are.
The angry one who pulled the man off of you earlier, at least, just looks lost, like he once had control and now has none. Relatable.
You stumble back a bit. Instinctively, you say, “Songbird?”
Though quite a few of the men seem to perk up at the nickname, only the one you already gave the moniker to truly reacts. Your soulmate — god, one of your soulmates? — looks up at you from the floor and answers, “Yeah?” before realizing he’s even doing it.
“Never mind,” you dismiss with a wave of your hand. “Ms Shin?”
“Yes?” She steps closer, a worried look on her face.
Jeonghan, too, moves toward you with a similar look on his face.
You try to take a steady breath and fail. “I think I’ll take that seat now.”
Swaying backward, your body falls onto the leather couch. 
You hear approximately ten panicked shouts as you go down.
Tumblr media
prev ⭒ chapter seven (4.0k) ⭒ next
new chapters for atus are not on a schedule nor guaranteed. there is no taglist. thank you for reading!
130 notes · View notes
genericpuff · 2 days
Note
So this is random, sorry, but someone I know is reading a touch of darkness (I think you've mentioned it here before) and oh my gods your right?? It's literally just LO in book format instead of a Webtoon. Persephone and Hades in a "modern" setting except this time he's a gambling den owner instead of running a corporation that stands in for the underworld. Persephone is a student at university etc etc until she happens to run into Hades (and is already weirdly fascinated with him for some odd reason). Enemies to lovers tropes out the wazoo, badly written smut etc. Like wow I know there's bound to be some overlap but this feels almost copy pasted. It's like a weird vicious cycle of the modern era where we keep getting the same tired Hades and Persephone story of "their in love really and they hurt people but it's hot and Demeter is a helicopter mom" that follow the same formula. Why is it such a thing? LO, a touch of darkness, losing beauty etc. There's so many of them.
OMG SO I HAVE A FUNNY STORY ABOUT THAT ACTUALLY LOL
a pal sent me this a couple weeks back and uh. I'm like 95% sure this person is talking about A Touch of Darkness:
Tumblr media
That said, I think it's really ironic that people are trying to 'report' whatever book this could be considering the characters in LO are not really Rachel's 'characters', but A Touch of Darkness is SUPER egregious with how much it ripped off LO. It came out in May 2019, and LO started in the Originals section in March 2018, though it was on Tumblr before that so I don't think it's far-fetched to think that Scarlett St. Claire read LO and was 'inspired' to write a novel that was exactly the same.
The reader here though says that LO came out 3-4 years before this unnamed series, which does make me think it could be something else, but it's also "series of novels" which A Touch of Darkness definitely is at this point.
So yeah, this could either go nowhere due to Rachel not owning anything when it comes to the Greek myth characters in her 'retelling', or it could lead to the smackdown of the century LOL
94 notes · View notes
sp0o0kylights · 19 hours
Text
There were a lot of things Mike hated in life.
The demogorgon, and how it had essentially destroyed his life.
 Brenner, and the madhouse laboratory El had survived. 
How each and every one of his friends now did something weird--were weird, because flashing lights or fireworks or some stupid tune a toy horse played dragged up memories that made their eyes flat and faces hollow. 
Most of all though, Mike hated how much they relied on Steve.
There was no reason he should be the person to call when it started pouring and no one wanted to bike home from AV. 
Steve wasn’t Nancy, or Jonathan, or a parent--he wasn’t even dating anyone related to any of the Party anymore so what excuse did he have to keep hanging around? 
(Even if Jonathan was always working, and Nancy was always busy with some club or homework, and everyone’s parents all seemed to be in a race of who could get back to normal the fastest…) 
They should at least try to get a hold of other people, instead of constantly going to Steve first.
“Why?” Dusitn had scoffed at him the last time this had happened, feeding quarters into a phone and staring at Mike like he was the one being unreasonable. “I’m not gonna waste money just to hear your sister tell us no again when we all know Steve will do it.” 
Which was perhaps the most infuriating part of it all.
That Steve would do it. 
Show up and help them, even if he bitched the whole time. 
Hell, Steve Harrington knew more about Mike’s life offhand than Nancy did, and that made him want to punch a wall more days than it didn’t. Why the hell was Steve so involved? 
It was stupid. 
Weird, even! They weren’t friends, (even if Dustin and Max and El of all people said the opposite) he wasn’t being paid to babysit, (Mike had double checked; going round to ask Ma Henderson and Mrs. Sinclair, only to get an earful of how wonderful Steve was from both.) he had no reason to hang around! 
It didn’t make sense that Steve could be harassed into picking them up from school. 
Would take them to get ice cream, or hand over extra quarters for the arcade. He even gave out advice like some kind of--brother that Mike had never wanted. 
Above all?
Mike hated that when he needed someone, the number he punched in on automatic was Steve’s.
“I need you to come get me.” He said into the receiver, mad at himself and the world, but mostly mad that beyond the normal amount of squawking Steve did, he shut up and came. 
Drove up in his rich boy car, stepping out and herding Mike into it like the rain hadn’t already seeped into his bones. 
“You wanna tell me why you snuck into a bar two towns over?” Steve asked, long after Mike had slung himself into the passenger seat, arms crossed defensively over his chest.
“No.” 
One of Steve’s hands went right to his hair, running through it before adjusting the mess he’d just made. 
It was a nervous habit, and Mike hated that he knew that too. 
“Okay, well.” Steve’s hand fell back to the steering wheel, clenching tight around it. “Next time you want to do something dumb could you at least come talk to me about it beforehand?”
“What the hell would that do?” Mike bitched, staring firmly out of the window. 
“Not waste my gas for starters.” Steve bitched right back. “But I dunno man, we could have taken some bats and gone and wailed on cars in the junkyard and talked or some shit, not--whatever this all was.”
‘This all’ was accompanied by a wave of his hand, indicating not just the bar Mike had been standing in front of, but his general sopping wet state. 
“You’d actually go to the junkyard with me?” Mike challenged, doubtful. 
Steve made a face. “Did you lose your hearing in there? I just said--.” 
“Why?” Mike interrupted. “Why the fuck would you come out with me?”
Matching his entire aggressive tone, Steve said; “Because it’s better than trying to sneak into the one local gay bar when you’re barely fourteen, Michael.” 
And that? 
Steve being oddly aware of shit he really shouldn’t have?
Mike hated that too. 
“You knew what the bar was?” He asked, his voice coming out much smaller than he intended. 
“Everyone knows what that bar is, except it’s more of a biker bar than a gay bar.” Steve shot back--which did actually explain about ten different questions Mike had about the place. “Also, language you little shit.” 
Under his breath, Steve continued in a muttered; “I swear I’m going to start carrying around soap.”
“You cuss more than we do.” Mike responded, and if his own voice was a little strangled as he fought back the sudden swell of tears, then that was between him and God. 
He was not crying in front of Steve Harrington, he outright refused. 
“The point I’m making is that there are way better bars to sneak into. That one’s not nearly as welcoming as people make it out to be, probably because they’re sick of all the rumors.” 
Steve seemed to realize what he was implying because he quickly added; “Not that you should be sneaking into any bars at all!” 
“You’re not my mom.” Mike’s voice turned wet as he lost his battle with his throat, voice cracking as he failed to choke the tears back.  
“No shit Wheeler.”  Steve said, and at least he was good enough not to call attention to Mike’s crying. 
If he had, Mike was pretty sure he’d just up and die of embarrassment, right there. 
“I don’t get why you care.” He muttered, angrily swiping at his eyes. 
“I didn’t keep you alive this long just so you could die of something stupid.” Steve countered easily.
Which was kinda fair, if you thought about it.
Mike very much did not want to think about it. 
Any of it.
Ever. 
“Are you gonna tell my parents?” He asked after a painfully long moment. 
Long enough that Steve had begun fiddling with the radio, trying to find a station as they drove back that wasn’t wailing country or gospel music. 
“I’m not a narc, so no.”  
“Not about the bar.”  
Now Steve just looked confused. 
Probably because he was, because he was without a doubt the stupidest almost adult Mike knew. 
(Not that he could say that out loud--last time he had, Max had made one of her pissy faces and then El got mad because Max was, which led to a break up, which led to Mike having to beg his way back into his girlfriend’s good graces while explaining that he hadn’t meant it like that.
“How did you mean it then?” Max demanded, and Mike wasn’t sure how he managed to dodge that entire conversation but he had, on grounds that untangling his own emotions regarding stupid Steve made him want to pull his hair out and scream.) 
“What about then?” 
 “You know. Don’t make me say it.” Mike absolutely didn’t plead, even if it did sort of, kind of, sound like pleading. 
Steve flicked his eyes away from the road to give one long, weird look at Mike. The same one he gave Dustin when he went off on a rant about Cerebro or Lucas when he started discussing the stats of different D&D weapons. 
Unlike those times, Steve’s face cleared. 
“Oh.” He said, blinking, and Mike could practically see the light bulb flash above his head.
Then; 
“Nah.” 
Mike waited.
And waited.
And kept waiting as Steve went back to searching through radio channels, as if that was the end of the conversation.
It couldn't be the end of this conversation.
Not when this was the part that was eating Mike alive.
He didn’t know if this was Steve repressing it on purpose or if this was what he had to look forward to for the rest of his life if he kept trying to figure his own head out, but either way, he knew he had a choice to make. 
To let the unspoken part of today die quietly. Go unsaid, and remain unsaid, for all eternity--or he could let it out. 
Shove the “gay” part of “gay bar” in Steve’s stupid, jock face. 
Make him acknowledge it, even if it got Mike kicked out of the car, and who cared if it did? 
Steve wasn’t the person who should have picked him up anyway. 
The anger climbed higher and higher in his chest, tears and rage combining until Mike spat it all out, furious. 
“You’re not going to ask if I’m gay?”  
Steve didn’t turn to face him, but Mike saw his eyebrow cocking anyway, given how he was currently glaring a hole in the side of the older teen’s head. 
“Do you want me to?” 
“No.” Mike bit out automatically. “Yes. I don’t know!” 
Steve’s hand found its way back into his hair. 
“Okay then.” Steve paused, clearly fishing for something to say. 
Gleefully, Mike watched him struggle. 
“Do you like guys?” He managed finally, looking like he was navigating a minefield more than just talking.
“I don’t know.” Mike stressed, sinking lower in his seat. “Why do you think I was at the bar? I was trying to figure it out!” 
“Honestly I assumed this was some sort of stupid dare--but!” Steve held up a finger, before Mike could interrupt, “But let’s--shit, hold on, I had a speech for this but I kinda wasn’t expecting to use it this soon. Um.”
“You have a speech for me being gay?”
“Not for you.” Steve rolled his eyes. “For--in general! It was an in general, just in case speech!” 
He rounded on Mike, for longer than the younger was comfortable with given Steve took his eyes off the road to do it. “Okay--you can like boobies, you can like, uh--not boobies, and that’s fine! It’s all totally fine!” 
“You are not making it sound like it’s fine.” Mike said, feeling like he’d been taken out by hearing Steve say the word “boobies.” 
Gross, gross, gross. 
“Well it is.” Steve said, in a tone that felt like he was two seconds from adding in a smarmy ‘so there!’ at the end. 
“But I’m dating El.” Mike whined, which really, was both the heart of the matter and the eye of the storm that had been growing in his head for months now. “I can’t be gay if I like her.” 
“Don’t you guys break up and get together like four times a week?”
“No, that's Max and Lucas, El and I are stable.” Mike scoffed. “Or we--we were stable.” 
Before he started to have thoughts about people that weren't his girlfriend. 
Or women.
“Stable for being in middle school, sure.” Steve snorted. “You don’t just have to like one or the other you know. You can like dudes and chicks at the same time.”
Which Mike did not know, on account of being fourteen. 
He did his absolute damndest not to show that realization, instead adding that to the list of reasons why he hated Steve Harrington too.
Steve shouldn't be the one teaching him about who you could like!
“The point is that who you end up loving isn’t a problem.” Steve finally looked back to the road. “Other people might be an issue, and those people we can punch in the face so long as the cops aren’t looking, which isn’t part of the speech so let’s not tell people I said that part, but whatever you do choose, there’s nothing wrong with you.” 
Steve’s voice went firm, as he apparently recalled his speech or something close enough to it because his next words sounded a little rehearsed. “You have people who are here for you, no matter what. Okay?” 
Oh God, Mike was crying again. 
He wanted to punch Steve in his stupid face.
Wanted to hold onto the fury he'd built inside himself. Thrash around, throw himself out of the car, get away from the emotions that felt too big for his chest to contain. 
Instead he felt it all break on Steve's acceptance. On word's he didn't know he needed to hear until they'd been spoken, and sniffed out a quiet; “Okay.” 
Steve of course had to take it too far by reaching over and patting his knee, which they both regretted judging by how quickly Steve took his hand back and the face Mike made at his hand--but it…
It was appreciated, even amongst all Mike's rage.
Steve was appreciated. 
Not that Mike would ever, on pain of death, tell him that. 
Neither said a word for a while, Steve finally landing on a radio that was playing some Top 40 hit, Tears for Fears singing about ruling the world while Mike found himself trying to rebuild his own once again, tired of it having shattered so many times over. 
At least he finally felt better, even if he refused to admit Steve was the reason for it. 
He wasn’t quite done though.
 There was a piece Steve had skipped over, that Mike felt was critically important, if only because it was partly the reason he was having thoughts about being gay in the first place. 
He had to know if Steve saw it too. 
That it wasn’t just him and his stupid head, making up things that weren’t there. 
“Hey Steve?” 
“Yeah?”
“Who was the speech for?” 
Steve sighed. 
“Rule one of the whole queer thing Wheeler, you don’t out other people.” 
Like there were written rules or something.
(Maybe there were, it wasn't like Mike knew.)
“Was it Will?” Mike asked, and pretended like he didn’t desperately want the answer to be yes. 
 Steve didn’t say a thing, but the fact he nearly took the car off the road was a pretty solid answer in itself. 
“We’re not playing guessing games about other people’s sexualites!” He yelped, hands gripping the steering wheel as Mike felt a wave of relief crash through him. 
Will was--maybe, possibly, also--queer too. 
Which didn’t make this any better but it--wasn’t the not preferred outcome, either. 
(It wasn’t just Mike struggling alone, trying to figure out if his best friend wanted to be more than that, if El was breaking up with him and more and more because she wanted to be less than a girlfriend, if things were changing and he would have no one--) 
“I’m not out here picking Will up from a gay bar dipshit, I’m picking you up, and this is your reminder that next time, you should just come talk to me!” Steve ranted. 
Mike snorted.
He absolutely hated Steve Harrington, but--
“Fine.” He said, talking so low he could barely be heard. “I will.”
--maybe Mike did have someone in his corner after all. 
Even if it was just Steve. 
xXx
Bonus: 
“Between you and me, that kid is gayer than a two dollar bill.” 
“Wow Robin,” Steve teased, “Isn’t that like, a slur or whatever?” 
He snickered when she rolled her eyes and threw a roll of stickers his way. 
“I’m just saying. Did you see the way he was looking at you when you were showing off your stupid biceps?” Robin said, nudging her shoulder into Steve’s. “Will’s gonna have a rude awakening later if he hasn’t already.” 
Steve nudged her back, but kept his gaze on the Party as they trooped their way from Family Video to the arcade next door, the realization that they now had connections for free rentals making them downright gleeful. 
Will was the last one in, and Steve watched him hurry so as to not be left behind. 
He didn’t like to worry about the dipshits, but Robin was just putting voice to a thought Steve knew he wasn’t the first person to have.
And if he noticed it, then it didn't exactly bode well as being kept a secret. 
“Should we like…talk to him about that?” He asked after a long moment, turning to face Robin.
“Us?” She pointed at herself, before turning her finger on Steve. “Why us?” 
“Well you’re into girls.” He gave her a pointed look, glad that the store was empty of everyone but them so he could actually voice all this. “And I’m fine with it.”
“Yeah I’m sure he wants to know you’re fine with it.” Robin taunted, but she had her thinking face on, eyes out to the middle distance. “I barely know him. You barely know him--he’s the quietest out of all your kids.”
“They’re not my kids.” Steve argued automatically. “They're like a weird cross between shitty siblings and that kid in your class who never leaves you alone.” 
A fact Steve no longer took for granted, even if he made it sound like the worst thing ever.
“I just think it’d be nice if he knew that he had people in his corner, you know? Who supported him and shit.” 
“Steve, you compared my crush to a muppet, that wasn’t supportive.” Robin countered, but it too was on automatic. 
Softer she admitted; “You’re right though. If I had known other queer people, if I had known people would accept me...it would have made things a lot easier.”
A very long pause, in which both of them stewed for a moment, before Robin abruptly slapped her hand down on the table.
“Okay, you got me. We're doing it, and I'm making us a speech.”
“A speech?” 
“Yes dingus, a speech. I know you, you’re terrible when you’re put on the spot with this kinda thing, and trust me with things like this the moment will be spontaneous.”
“It’s Will, how spontaneous can it be?” Steve challenged back. “Getting a dinner order out of him is a chore.” 
“Stop whining and hand me that notepad. Im telling you its gonna happen when you least expect it and then you're gonna thank me later.”
“It better not happen without you.”  Steve sighed, but passed the notepad over.
God the things he did for those stupid kids. 
Bonus x2
Steve would later go on to use the speech on himself, in a gas station bathroom mirror, eyes wide and freaked out after Eddie Munson called him Big Boy in a van they stole, while Robin snickered behind him. 
He would turn on her, snapping that she; “Help me with this dammit!” 
In return she’d remind him that Tammy might sing like a muppet but Eddie  was the guy who stepped on lunches while giving speeches at lunch and sticking his tongue out, and “Really Steve, I think I won best gay awakening, here.” 
Which would promptly start an argument regarding how it wasn’t a competition, which would continue for another fifteen or so odd years before finding its way as a reference into both of their speeches as each other’s best man. 
Nancy and Eddie wouldn’t get it at either wedding, but Mike would.
120 notes · View notes
tanoraqui · 2 days
Text
In Which Space Orcs are Men
[AO3] A "what if humans are space orcs" take on Dagor Dagorath. (Aka the prophecied apocalypse of Middle Earth. Scifi story accessible to non-LotR nerds!)
Elves weren't really supposed to leave Earth. That's what they told us—the Elves, that is, told people thousands of years ago, when Elves could still be found here and there. When I was born, elves were nearly as much a fairy tale as they’d been on Ancient Earth.
Elves weren't supposed to leave Earth, the Elves said in the fairy tales, and in a few old scraps of records scattered around known space. They literally weren't made for it. They could only do it if they brought Earth with them—Arda they called it, leaves or dirt, water or a rare bubble of air, perfectly preserved in a white crystal. There are tons of tales about Elves losing their lifeline jewels—their hearts, their silimirs—and roping people into epic quests to get them back before they—the Elf—faded to nothingness. 
Even the jewels weren't enough, though. That's why there are also stories about Elves who fell in love with a person or a place and stayed there until they faded, or Elves who charmed someone into following them back to Fairyland on Earth...because whatever they said, Elves didn't really live on Earth. Humans have maintained their home planet as a monitored nature reserve since like the 40th century, open only to vetted research teams and serious Human religious pilgrimages. The most confirmed accounts of Elves that exist are of their ships appearing out of nowhere, with no trace of any tech that would enable it, at random, always-changing points within 100 miles or so of Earth.
Nobody ever came back from trying to follow Elves home. Mostly Elves tried to dissuade people from trying. But there are always crazy and curious people—and Elves usually attracted those, because any Elf who left the home they were "made" for was usually crazy and curious themselves. 
Those were the stories I grew up with. There was a cave near the orphans' creche which was supposed to be haunted by a faded Elf. I didn't really believe it—like I said, the last confirmed Elf was last seen like 5,000 years ago, and not even on my planet. People have met two dozen new sentient races since then. We've discovered that reincarnation is probably real (just functionally untrackable), prompting the Pan-Religious Reform Wars. The last person to see a live Elf was still traveling via natural wormholes—they literally didn't know that you could loop pi.
.
When the Human natal sun started to turn really red, it wasn’t that big a deal at first. It’s a very important, very sad event for any species, but it happens to everyone eventually. It happened to the Hectort just after we invented interstellar flight. There were some unusual gravatic waves around Earth’s Sol, but nothing worth noting to anyone who didn’t already care for personal reasons.
Then the Elves sent us a message.
The local Parks Service picked it up, of course. I bet the Humans meant to hush it up at first—though the Centaurian government still won’t admit anything—but someone leaked it immediately on the intergalactic net. It should’ve only been famous as a joke of a hoax, but…
It was basically just a metal box with rudimentary fire-thrusters soldered on the sides. It contained two things. The first was a recording/replaying device so antiquated that the only way they got it working is that it was already playing on loop, and didn’t stop until someone disconnected it from its power source.
The message was in Ancient Bouban, which some folklorist soon announced is the latest language an Elf could know, since the last known Elf went back to “Arda.” The voice somehow sounded melodic to every species with a concept of music, from the screeching Vesarians to the deep-sea sub-sonic Thinkers, even when translated through cheap, staticky speakers. And to most species, the speaker was audibly distraught.
They said,
This is the final message from the Firstborn of Eru to the Secondborn, and everyone else. The Battle of Battles has come, and we…are losing. If there are any who remember the ancient love and loyalty which bound our peoples, if there are any heirs remaining of Thargalax the Magnificent, of Nine-Fingered Frodo, of the noble Houses of Haleth, Hador and Beor—
The speaker drew a sharp breath, there.
—by great oaths and greater friendship I bid you now to raise your swords and ride to our aid. Ride as swiftly as you can!
We will hold for another year. We will, they said determinedly. After that, it is unlikely that…
Another, shakier breath. A smile forced into a voice which would rather weep.
Fëanáro and Nienna believe there is a way to destroy the Straight Road. If we must, if it comes to it, we will do so, and trap the First Enemy here in this dying world with us. Though I don’t know about—
Hair-aristocrat! a more distant, slightly less perfectly melodious voice called, in a language so dead that they needed computers to decode it. The walls are falling, we need to go!
If you never hear from us again, and no sudden discord arises among you, you will know we succeeded, the first speaker said quickly. If otherwise…I am sorry. Either way, I bid you all only, remember us! Oh beautiful flames, remember us, as we have ever remembered y— 
There was a sudden screech of tearing metal, a defiant, musical battle-cry, and a jarring silence. Then the message restarted.
And that wasn’t even the strangest thing in the box. The strangest thing was the recorder’s power source, which was powering the whole tiny rocket mechanism as well. It was an Elf-jewel right out of a fairy tale, a fist-sized, translucent not-quite-diamond—but instead of rock or water or a much-loved scrap of plant, the only thing it held was light.
...Kind of. It isn’t normal light. It arguably isn’t light at all, as we know it—scientists now think it’s technically some sort of plasmoid aether, except it only acts like a plasmoid aether about half the time. 
It has no detectable source within the jewel. It fully illuminates whatever space it’s in, no matter how big. Its visible radiation is a frequency, the scientists say, that matches a hyper-accelerated version of what the universe must’ve sounded like in the split second after the Big Bang.
It makes people remember things, when they see it in person or sometimes even across a holo. Some remember a similar light in a strange traveler’s eyes. Others, dreamily enchanted valleys where spring never faded, or tall castles, bright swords, and stern and glorious lords and ladies. And some of us got hit with a whole lifetime of memories in one go: an identical gem on the brow of a sober forest king, friends who slipped through trees like shadows save for their merry laughter, an impossibly beautiful gold-haired maiden dancing in a glittering cavern...
(And all the pain and loss that came with them.)
And some people just remember the sight of a distant star—in another world, in another lifetime.
Reincarnation was provable but untraceable…until now. 
The Thinker ambassador on Astrolax Station 5 was the first to kick up a fuss. Most Thinkers never leave their home planet, they're too huge and aquatic. But like I said, there's always crazy and curious people. The ambassador started bellowing the second che heard the message, without even seeing the light, because, "I know him! My Wisdom! We must send aid!" That made some news, and random other people shared their own, less dramatic revelations, and soon a compilation swept the net with timestamps showing that most of them were organically independent, not just jumping on the bandwagon….
Even that might've gotten written off intergalactically. The Thinkers are big in reincarnationist circles, on account of how they claim that deep in their planetary ocean they can hear echoes of their past lives. But being mostly planet-bound means they're not really influential on a big political level. Or it would've sparked another surge of the Reform Wars, and everybody would've remembered the rock, but not the recording. Or there would’ve been a fight over this potentially infinite energy source (though that is so last giga-annum)….
But first it was shown in person to the current Director of the Admiralty of the Astral Alliance, President of the X-ee Empire and Matron of the House of S,sh, Ch’ees/i’i S,sh. I was actually there—I was Captain of her ceremonial Alliance guards, in a last-ditch attempt to salvage my career after Zanzibus. Very ceremonial, considering the X-eee have laser-proof shells and pincers and I have, what, opposable thumbs? Vestigial tusks?
I wasn’t paying attention at first, too busy being suddenly assaulted by all my own memories. So I missed the President freezing mid-step and gasping (in X-eee), “Mother.” I also missed her rising alarm call of an attempt to speak Ancient Elvish without an Elvish tongue or lips.
I sure didn’t miss her snap back to X-eee for a sharp call to attention, and everything that followed: the call to arms! The rousing of the Alliance! A tour of the galaxy, to find anyone and everyone else in whom the Light could awaken ancient memories! And for the love of X'eeh, why had nobody figured out how to get back to Fairyland with this thing yet, and every warship in the quadrant?!
If I believed in the One Behind, or in any other creator god or gods—I'm not saying I do, but if I did, if there really is something out there all-powerful and all-kind—then it'd be because out of every soul in the entire universe, the probably one in the best position to act on the Elves' message turned out to have, from a past life, two parents and a much-loved twin still in Fairyland. Like, that's insane, right?
I stayed with the Director's ceremonial guards for the whole tour, actually more than ceremonial for once—it was the weirdest mission of my life, and I've been on a lot of weird missions. Or supposedly routine missions that got weird (and usually disastrous). My friends joke that I'm cursed. S,sh requisitioned an Inquiry-class ship, so the science boffins could study the Light and jewel along the way, and we started wormholing at weft speed, hitting a new planet every week. Sometimes every day. In each major spaceport and ground-city, S,sh stood with the jewel on the highest available point and gave a recruitment speech for going to save the Elves and fight the oldest enemy of all reality. 
Honestly, it seemed a little redundant? The Astral Alliance was made for this sort of rescue mission (and for escorting trade convoys). But I was...if not happy, then sure as hell more self-certain with my ancient memories restored, and most people who joined up seemed to agree. It was mostly people who remembered, when exposed to the Light, who joined—so before long, we had a whole tag-along trail of mostly civilian ships, trying to get up to Alliance Fleet standard on the road in less than a year.
Three different religious sects tried to kill S,sh for "profaning the mysteries." Five others tried to steal the jewel because we were apparently appropriating a holy object. The boffins announced that, bar the can't-prove-a-negative possibility, the evidently sourceless Light should be counted as an infinite energy source, and at least seven different groups, ruthless financiers and sustainability idealists, immediately tried to steal it for that. And I still don't know what the rival thief-queens of Likkiliani were about, except that I got tied up upside-down from a palmdar tree for two hours trying to stop one, the other paid me 700 cron then threw me off a cliff, and in the end they recognized each other from past lives and just made out on worldwide live-holo before joining our growing fleet. 
It turned out they were the Director's past life's great-grandparents, and a Canid pop princess was her niece. The Thinker ambassador was some sort of ancestor, too. Crazy extended family. 
Most people who remember just remember the sight of a star in the sky. A buddy of mine from Fleet Academy remembered looking up at it as a Human sailor. The historians—and you’d better bet we picked up some Earther historians on this mission as well!—say this jewel or one like it was probably astrologically conflated with the planet Venus by early Humans.
(The more time I spent around the jewel, the Silmaril, the more I remembered, of my first life and more. Lifetime after lifetime with bad luck dogging my steps, killing loved ones in my arms, destroying cities I was supposed to save… One restless, haunted night, I met a Rigilic in the cafeteria who’d been awake with some of the same nightmares, who’d been my dead older sister once.)
The tour was cut short when word came from the Earth system that there was a black hole growing in the center of their reddening sun. 
No, the sun wasn’t compressing into a black hole millennia ahead of schedule—one had just spontaneously manifested within it, like it’d teleported in. No, not literally—that was impossible. We were pretty sure. No, the sun wasn’t falling into it…somehow. Yet. The black hole was only 17 quectometers wide, but it was growing at an erratic but unceasing rate. If their best estimation of the pattern held, it would consume the sun 2 months before the Elves’ deadline, and the Earth 4 to 950 minutes later.
We pulled back to Earth—well, to the dwarf planet Eros, on the edges of Earth’s star system. That’s where the nearest shipyard of any note was, and we were gathering the whole Astral Alliance. This is exactly the sort of thing the Alliance is for. 
I was released back to ship duty. Zanzibus was still a black mark on my record, as was Jorab, and really everything on the AAS Endeavor…and that thing in third year of Fleet Academy… But no matter how bad my curse, I was an experienced captain and one of the best pilots in the Alliance. For this, we needed all the best.
The boffins had pretty quickly mastered limited manipulation of the Light, using modified aetheric resonators, and every day they came up with something new for us to test. They focused the Light into a laser cannon like no one has seen before. They laced it through plasma shields until a fully shielded ship glowed like a distant star. They managed to nearly replicate the Silmaril’s crystalline structure, so they could make “copies” that shone like the original for first a few hours; then, with refinement, a full week…
The one thing they couldn’t pin down with any real confidence was how to get to Fairyland. The frequency of the Light resonated with large bodies of Earther saltwater in a particular way, and models suggested that if the Light source moved horizontally along the water within a certain range of distance and velocity, the resonance would create a wormhole-like ripple in space—but wormhole-like, was the key word, and models suggested. The closest anyone had seen to that spatial distortion was in a logbook of dubious veracity from the Delta Quadrant, four hundred years ago. Alteia, my Academy buddy who’d been a Human sailor, took the Silmaril in an M-wing on a series of highly monitored test flights above the Atlantic Ocean, and space did repeatedly start to hollow in front of bom—so bo had to stop every time, rather than risk vanishing with our single, maybe-one-way ticket.
Then Earth’s moon stopped shining in the sky. Its albedo just dropped nearly to zero, from one night to the next. There was nothing wrong that anyone could figure out—nothing with the orbit, nothing with the surface rock, nothing with the artificial atmosphere. Inhabitants reported feeling colder by several degrees, but no measuring equipment recorded anything.
The black hole slightly off-center in the middle of Sol was now 844.9 zeptometers, and growing more steadily.
We didn’t have time to keep testing. We needed to raise our swords and make our ride, even if we only got one shot at it.
I was given command, for seniority, skill, and because I was the one who managed to talk S,sh out of leading the fleet herself. (If my lives had taught me anything, it was the importance of having someone, anyone, ready to be emergency backup.) Ironically, I was back on the Endeavor, with most of my old crew—though we got permission to rename the ship, in honor of the mission. A lot of people did. Alteia was now commanding the AAS Elendil on my right flank, star-friend in Ancient Elvish. That Canid pop princess had taken over a hospital ship and renamed it Rivendell. An Earth Park Ranger, of all things, remembered being my dad—briefly—and he was leading the Rangers plus my Rigilic drinking buddy on the EPSS Elfsheen. 
We weren’t sure if any ship but the one with the Silmaril would get through. The fleet numbered in the hundreds in battleships alone, not counting scouts and scuttlers. Twelve races had sent ships on top of their typical Alliance Fleet tithe, and S,sh had brought about half the full force of the X-ee Empire. We all just locked tractor beams and hoped. 
I was piloting as well as captaining, with the Silmaril between my forehorns. It was held in place by about a dozen wires and other connectors to the ship, like an old-timey pilot’s headset. We took off in orbit around Earth, as close as possible to the surface—not very close, in warships of Class S and higher, but within range of the oceanic resonance. A Likkilianian thief-queen stood at my shoulder, ready to advise if anything “Musical” started to happen.
Think about what you’re trying to get to, and why, the boffins had advised, so I did—bright-eyed kings and dancing maidens; lost friends, families, cities, planets and all. The jewel got warmer against my skin and shone brighter with every pulse of the engine, brighter than we should’ve been able to see through.
The silver-gold Light twisted and diffused as space did around us. But there was no familiar rippling wormhole boundary—instead, spacetime thinned to a curtain like driving rain, like Vesarian silver-glass.
A ghost appeared next to me. She looked like the oldest, grumpiest writing teacher at the crèche, though I knew that was only in my head.
“There you are,” she said, impatient and relieved like I’d been hiding in the sandbox again, rather than coming to class on time. Her sewing scissors went snip snip snip as she darted them around my body—and a chain on my soul faded into guiding threads.
Before she’d even disappeared again, I punched the engine and blasted through the silver-glass curtain.
Fairy tales said there’d be a peerlessly beautiful land on the other side, green with eternal spring, full of endless light and laughter. They said there’d be sunlit shores and shimmering waves, with welcoming docks for sea-ships, sky-ships and space-ships all…
We flew into the worst battlefield I’d ever seen, in any lifetime. It was more desperately vicious than Jerusalem V at the height of the Reform Wars, more ruined than Glaurung’s wake, more desolate than Zanzibus after the nuclears fell.
Either a massive supercontinent or a small moon had been shattered, leaving nothing but a roiling debris field. The brand-new meteoroids ranged from pebbles to rocks the size of a small space station, and included space-frozen corpses, forests, and what might have once been city blocks.
I gave the helm back to my Pilot Officer—zer had, I can admit, slightly better reflexes for dodging debris—and focused on captaining.
Most of the life signs were clinging to the larger rocks. There shouldn’t have been atmosphere for them, but walls of thunderstorm wrapped around every shard with even a single life sign—wind and water desperately hand in hand to safeguard the last of the Elves. The only thing visible through the impossible storms was the Light of a second Silmaril, on a meteoroid shaped like half a broken eggshell.
A corpse lay at the epicenter of the explosion—what might’ve been a corpse, if it wasn’t also shattered. The broken pieces of a massive stone humanoid, taller than my ship if it’d stood beside her, still bleeding lava so hot that it burned even in frozen space. Another titan knelt at the shards of its head, a figure of towering bark and leaves, wailing with grief even worse than the end of the world. 
A slimmer tree-woman stood with one hand on her shoulder, comforting, and the other wielding a skyscraper-sized club spiked with incandescent wildflowers. Guarding her sister’s heartbreak, she fended off a swarm of bat-sized monsters with wings of darkness and whips of flame. 
Bat-sized relative to the gods of Elves and ancient Humans. About the size of an M-wing, in flight.
Countless more of the bat-things flung themselves at the storm-bubbles, like carnivores chasing the prey hidden inside. They were fended off by an equal army of creatures with wings of light and swords of lightning, led by a towering figure who seemed to dance from one bloody battle to the next.
The biggest battle by far was the farthest away, over where the sun had been. In this dimension of stories over science, Sol was another woman-shape, smaller than the others but burning just as brightly as her star. Also just as blood-red. The light was centered on a fist she kept clenched at her chest, and instead of containing the black hole, the unseeable thing that it was here surrounded her, striking at her with a thousand hungry jaws and grasping legs, and she had only a one-handed whip of a solar flare to fend it off—
But she didn’t fight alone. A warrior tore at the Darkness’s spidery limbs with his fists, image on the cameras flickering impossibly between every hero I’d ever heard of. A snarling figure bit at it with jagged teeth, gored it with horns, shredded it with claws and talons, and generally made every ancient prey-instinct in me scream. And a queen with a crown of stars, a shield like the night sky and a sword like a streaking comet, stood dauntlessly at the sun-holder’s side. 
With all that, and with the speed of even her most exhausted strikes, I thought the sun-holder could probably have gotten away if she’d tried. But I knew how a person fought when they weren’t willing to leave a friend, and a smaller, silver figure lay at her feet, unmoving and drained of light.
But even the battle for the sun wasn’t what grabbed my eye. No—all my attention, all my guiding threads of fate and the quick temper that always used to get me in trouble, before (and sometimes after) I learned to leash it in an Alliance uniform— All of that took me straight to the fight happening orthogonal to the stone giant’s corpse.
It was another one-versus-many. Morgoth, the First Enemy of Elves and Men— Master of Lies, Maker of Chains, Sonofabitch Curser of Bloodlines—towered over even his fellow gods. His shape changed constantly, sickeningly, but it was always black-armored with eyes like dying stars that hated you personally. His maul dripped with lava and every other kind of blood.
He fought against three great gray figures who moved as one. The tallest wielded a star-studded scythe with swift, efficient strokes, and wore the dark gray of corpse-shrouds. The shortest shimmered with more colors than even a Stamotapadon could dream of, and his weapon shifted likewise. The third was the clear, clean gray of skies after rain or tears run dry, and fought with only a shield—and hit harder with it than either of her brothers.
Around their heads darted the only Elves on the battlefield, in small fliers more like sea-ships than aircraft. But they moved fluidly, pestering the Dark Lord like flies, pricking his skin and threatening his burning eyes.
Until Morgoth swung his maul with a roar of fury that traveled even though soundless space. My ship and heart both shuddered. The gray gods all staggered back, and the Elves fell from the no-longer-sky—all but their leader, more fire than flesh, who wore the third Silmaril. Morgoth caught him in one massive black hand and with sharp claws plucked the jewel away, as easily as a ripe berry from a tree—
“All power to fore-cannon and fire,” I ordered—and the jewel on my brow shone bright again as several stored months’ worth of infinite Silmaril-Light slammed into Morgoth’s chest with all the force that the best scientists in the Astral Alliance could engineer. 
He stumbled. He dropped both the jewel and the elf-king (who’d been trying to bite him). The Lady of Mercy tossed her shield to catch them, staying low and out of sight—though she needn’t have bothered. The so-called “Lord of All” had already found his next enemy.
“All ships, move forward and join shields,” I ordered, and met his burning stare though the viewscreen. “Then broadcast me on all external frequencies.”
The wires on my forehead shimmered as we shifted Light-flow to the shields—and to my right, so did the Elendil, and to my left, the Cosmian Blade, and all around us the Minas Tirith, the Elfsheen, the Muse, the Rivendell, the Heart of Zanzi, the Longbottom Leaf… They were still soaring out of the silvery distortion behind me, tractor- and Silmaril-towed: sleek Rigilic eels-of-prey and Centaurian cruisers full of Humans eager to fight for their homeworld, Betan mine-ships and Canid X-M-wings and my own Hectoan starlighters, a full third of the X-ee navy with their X-eee–shaped six-engine dreadnoughts, and hundreds more. 
“This is Captain Pel Cinia, once Túrin Turambar, of the Astral Alliance ship Gurthang,” I said. My words were broadcast from every ship on every frequency in every language that the people of Arda might know, as the Fleet assembled from forty-plus different worlds flew into position. Our Light-infused shields blazed and locked together, until we formed a seamless wall right in the Enemy’s face, with the Elves and their other allies safely behind us.
I’ve never felt more proud to recite the most cliché line in the Fleet:
“We got your distress call. We’re here to help.”
132 notes · View notes